Honesty Sucks

It's tough to know where I'm at in my game right now; I still love tournament poker, but it sure is hard.  And since I've been tracking my results accurately, for really the first time ever in my 5+ years of seriously playing this game, I find myself with way more questions than answers.


I've played in 13 events in January and the first part of February 2012.  I have cashed once.  Once.


Somehow it doesn't feel that unusual or bad, but when I look at the raw numbers - I'm stuck just over 700 bucks, it is a bit unsettling.


Now, to be fair, four of the events were $40 satellites at the LAPC, and these truly are super-turbos.  We start with 1000 in chips and blinds double every 15 minutes.  Ridiculous really, and the only reason I played them was because I busted out of other bigger events early and was still itching to play.


So I take those four events out, and it's 9 events and cashing once, stuck just over 500.


I can certainly live with that, and attribute a good part of it to variance.


But, and this is a good thing - there is also the nagging feeling that a few costly mistakes on either crucial or tournament ending hands, have put me in this negative.


I can distinctly remember an event at HPC where I had a decent amount of chips and I was second in (not first) with QJ suited.  I wound up in a three way pot with the third best hand, double dominated (my QJ vs. AJ and KQ - yuck!)   I can definitely say that I was a bit tilted from being so card dead, and even rationalized it at the time as I walked out to my car.


Thinking back, it was pretty much a horseshit move.  Not knowing how to fold broadway cards, especially suited ones, in early to mid position, even when the M is dwindling, is a leak that I can see that I have that needs plugging.


I did the same thing, calling off a shove by shoving, the other night in a fairly soft home game with KJ suited - ran into AQ and a small pair which held.  I didn't need to do that.  I had around 15 bigs, and in a tournament with no antes there was absolutely no excuse for it.  Additionally there was a station monster stack in front of me, yes he called - who would've probably looked me up with A2, let alone a shitty pocket pair.


There have been a couple of bust out hands where I was first in, and I'm a lot more comfy with those moves, that just didn't work out.


And then there was my last satellite at Commerce (wait, wasn't I not including those?) where I shoved over an UTG raiser and a limper with pocket tens.  Not that good, but really in a super turbo with 6 bigs I don't know that I'm ever folding tens.   Funny result, the original UTG raiser let it go (stupid) and the limper called off most of his chips with J10, which of course hit a three outer on the river.  I'm okay with this, results notwithstanding.


Other funny story, in the previous satellite on the same evening.   Psycho Asian guy to my right (I've played with him before and he truly is emotionally unhinged, he kicked a chair over at HPC when he busted one time, but anyway...) lost his shit when I called his SB shove blind.  The big blind was a third of my stack, so I thought nothing of calling - it was correct regardless of my holdings.   I had J2 he had A9.  The river brought a runner runner wheel and he really lost his shit, swearing at me up and down in Mandarin.   My only response was a raised eyebrow and an "Oookay..." as I scooped up the chips.   Later I did ask him if this was the first time he'd ever played poker, to which he swore again and again in his native tongue.  Good times.


Then there was a disastrous end on Saturday - I was sitting on about 25 bigs, with the blinds ratcheting up.  I knew it was time to start stealing when I could.  I had a good tight image, and had truly been playing ABC for over 2 hours.


Blinds 200/400.   Two limpers behind me, I raised it up to 2500 with K7os.  This is not really an overbet here, it's a 3x plus the two limpers and a little bit more.   The talky HPC regular who was a nice enough guy in the SB looked me up with what he called a "spite" call.  I laughed as the other limpers and BB folded.


Flop was Q58 rainbow, he led out with a third of the pot sized bet.


I hate donking, it puts me on tilt.  I need to learn to do it myself effectively, because it can be a great weapon against the right opponent (like me for instance).   But anyways, this player I knew was decent and could be tricky against another player he recognized as decent too (that would be me).


So I flatted to reevaluate on the turn, which was a 6 to complete the rainbow.  I was now open ended, plus I was guessing that any kings that hit would be good.  11 outs.


He led out again, this time a substantial bet that would commit me to the hand.  It was jam or fold time.


I don't hate my jam here, because he tanked forever and complimented me on a good play before calling off over half of his stack to my shove.  He had top pair, 10 kicker and it held.


At the time I hated his call, but on reflection I really blame myself every which way for this hand.


For starters, until I'm Daniel Negraneau, I really have zero business fucking around with K7os.  I can see trying to steal pre-flop if I've been super dead and it's open folded to me, but I shouldn't be dicking around with it if I have to raise higher than 2.5x to get rid of limpers.  Way too much money into a pot with a garbage hand.


And then, as Annie Duke likes to say, what if the king hits?  Am I happy?  Fuuuuck.  Now I've got too much of my stack involved to ever really consider folding.   And when I blank, as the hand shows, I can still get into trouble - even (or perhaps especially) if I'm reading my opponent right and put the right pressure on him.  He could and did still read me for a bullshitter and make a hero call.  


All of this could have been avoided - simply by being a bit more patient and waiting for better starting cards and a better situation.


As I drove home I couldn't help thinking to myself "Damn.  I could be still playing poker, sitting on 16 bigs if I had just folded to that big turn bet.  I knew he had top pair. Was he really a good enough player to lay it down?  In my heart I knew the answer was hells no."


I'm excited for the future of my game, despite my lumps - if I can truly look at myself objectively.  Tracking my bankroll to the last cent accurately is a phenomenal way  of doing this.  I had no idea that it would sharpen the picture of my game so drastically.   I'm happy that it has, because I feel that with this more detailed view of my results, I'll be able to adjust quicker and more productively.


********


Quick update - Sven and I are Vegas bound on the third weekend of July for the WSOP.  VERY excited.  Haven't decided if I'm going to save up for a bracelet event, but I'm leaning heavily towards a few satellite entries instead.

The Pumpkin

One of my favorite scenes in one of my favorite movies goes like this -


Frodo and his hobbit friends have returned to the Shire after a 13 month long harrowing adventure battling evil in the land of Mordor.  They return mostly physically unscathed, but mentally they have been battered and bruised, some of them (Frodo) beyond repair.   They have been to Mordor and seen the face of true evil and they will never be the same.


So they gather together in the Green Dragon pub, and as they sit down a rowdy bunch of hobbits enter with an enormous pumpkin.  The pumpkin's presumptive owner is very proud and polishes it lustily, glaring at Frodo who gets in his way.  


In the scene you can read the farmers mind - "Can't they see that this is important?  This is a prize winning pumpkin after all!"


The hobbits just give a reflective smile to each other and toast their friendship.   They, unlike most of the hobbits in the shire, can see the big picture.  The world is a vast place, full of danger and wonder, and until you step out into it, you really have no idea.


Until you have been to the mountain top, a giant pumpkin seems really important.


It's all about perspective, and even though I have very little in the world of poker - I am a thoughtful enough person to recognize that I and most of the  players in card rooms I sit down with, have no idea what it is to be a true professional in the sport.


So when, at Hollywood Park Casino, I look across at a loud mouthed grinder, who seems intent on letting the whole poker floor know that he is the table captain by God - all I actually see is a giant pumpkin.


Most of the arrogant players I've encountered are as self-important and delusional as that hobbit farmer, and have no idea how much more they have to learn about the game.


At my table in the World Series of Poker there was a bit of a chatterbox, who was maybe a four out of ten on the douche scale - who berated a player a bit who slow played his aces and got out flopped and lost his stack.


At this the chatterbox, who wasn't even in the hand, couldn't help himself and made a snide comment that actually contained the world "donk" in it.   The berated player simply smiled and wished everyone else luck as he left.   He then reappeared a few minutes later at the first break, up on the stage accepting his WSOP bracelet for the previous day's 10K H.O.R.S.E. event.


Fabrice Soulier, the "donkey" in question knows a pumpkin when he sees it, and he doesn't even bat an eye when it pops up at the table.  I would like very much to follow his lead on this, since I see a fair amount of pumpkins at most larger events I play in.


One was the other night in the LAPC, he was seated on my left.


In small chit chat I had ascertained that he was a recreational cash game player.  As a douche he was strictly minor league, maybe a 2 or 3 out of 10 - but I have to admit, his arrogance did tilt me a fair amount and probably led to my implosion on the last hand before the break.


But let's back up.


Earlier I had nearly tripled up in a three way pot, that believe it or not rattled me quite a bit.


Blinds were at 50/75 (an odd level to be sure, it gave the SB irresistable odds on every limped pot).


I was steaming from a long run of rag cards coupled with the fact that the table entire, douche included, seemed to be very passive and very soft.  I knew if I got some ammo I could take control, and with only 3K chips to start with that I had already spewed off a bit, I was itching to get my 2300 stack in.


I was in middle position, utg limped, as did utg+1 to my right.  I looked down at K5cc, which as we all know is a trash hand - but I rationalized a chunky three bet (from the limped 75 up to 300) because there had been very few of them so far and zero from me.  Also, the players who had re-raised had taken down their pots pre-flop.  That was really my plan here, though in hindsight I recognize that I didn't really have much of a plan if I got flatted.


And that's just what happened with the button, a weak female player that I had tangled with and won a pot with a bluff earlier.   There are more than a few problems with my questionable re-raise, but the biggest one is that there were so many players in front of me yet to act.  I'm lucky that it was only the button who stuck around.


But also, though the blinds and the utg player folded, the utg+1 called.   Utg+1 was probably the biggest fish at the table, I had him pegged as a classic super passive home gamer.   He was a level 1 station who had won a couple of big pots just by being stubborn and either hitting or calling off light with the best hand.  He had me well covered.  I covered the button by just a bit.


The flop came KK6 rainbow.   Yahtzee.


I had already made up my mind, and I think I was correct, that I was never folding with this board, not in most tournaments, but certainly not in a 1000 player event for $65 with a shot at 30K in first place money.  Most of all, I only have 1400 behind with roughly 1200 in the pot.


Utg+1 checked, I c-bet about 600, which of course commits me.   The button, who was likely very tilted by my earlier aggression, reluctantly stuck her remaining chips in.  It's what I figured she would do with a pocket pair. I wasn't worried.


Utg+1 tanked intently.  Uh-oh.  He has a king and for sure has me out kicked.  Well that sucks, mostly because I'm never ever folding here, and only a station with no concept of pot odds would bother to Hollywood to get the rest of my chips when any decent player knows they're going in anyway.


He abruptly announced all-in, and I called fully expecting to be out kicked and hoping for a lucky run of cards to chop.


He had AK and I was all but out the door.   I stood up, which I never do, and was putting on my jacket, which I also never do, when a five hit the river.


I didn't even notice that I had hit my 3 outer.   He was 94% after a blank on the turn.  I wasn't supposed to spike it - that would be (gasp!) like Mercier!   The pot got pushed to me and I blinked in disbelief.  An experienced player across from me picked right up on my bewilderment - "You won bro!"


"Oh shit." was my only response.  I was now at 8500+ and well above average.  I was also thoroughly rattled.


I had misplayed that hand dreadfully pre-flop, done okay afterwards, even calling off my tournament life because the numbers demanded it, but there really was no excuse for my pre-flop monkey business.   And yet here I was, being hugely rewarded for bad behavior.


That's poker.   I took a walk to cool off - because I was pretty mad at myself for playing so shitty and emotionally.  I returned to the table, still shaking a bit, but ready to use my new found ammo to it's fullest.


So anyway - my implosion.  


Instead of small balling smartly and grinding upwards, I managed to spew away much of my chips with sub-premium holdings.  I even tilt-3-bet with 63os at one point, lol.   I was down to 5500 and after the break we would be at 100/200 with a 25 ante.  Not the worst place to be, but I was very aggravated at having bled so many chips.   I had not been playing well at all.


On the last hand before the break - I defended my big blind from the minor league pumpkin on my left who raised UTG.  I had KJcc.  I have no problem with my call, which was for 200 more, I will defend my big blind with suited broadway cards most of the time - since with rags I relinquish it fairly frequently, I know people observe this and try to make me a target.  If I have cards with decent equity I try to defend at least 1 in 4 times if I can so I don't become a magnet for bigger stacks.


Flop came low with a single club ace and another club.   I checked to UTG who c-bet about a quarter of the pot.


This is another thing that had me pretty tilted on the day - an "expert" pumpkin who wanted to talk strategy with me and fancied himself God's gift to NLHE, didn't know how to bet size properly.


I called, which was a HUGE mistake.  It's ship it or fold here.


He's likely got an ace or an over pair.  If I shove now, he's likely to call with an ace and I'll have 9 outs, which puts me at the 40% end of a 60/40 "flip".  Not great, but I could live with it.  If I had  been thinking clearly, I could easily rationalize a shove here.  


Unfortunately I wasn't thinking very clearly; after the hand was over I erroneously concluded at the time that that my K or J or both might be good overs.  If this was the case then I for sure should have shoved as he would be likely to relinquish and even if he didn't I would then be the favorite with two cards to come.   This is bad reasoning - he was very likely to have an ace, and it was fairly likely, even with ginned outs, to be AK or AJ.


Anyway, I called which was terrible, and then I check raise shoved the blank turn which was also dreadful (got my money in as the 20 in an 80/20) and he snap called with a baby ace for most of his stack.   A pretty bad call, but not too terrible considering my table image at that time which was that of a LAGtard on crack.


The river blanked and I was gone, he got all my chips with a naked off suit baby ace that he had raised with UTG.


He was fairly terrible - but I had let my own emotions, my own sense of importance, guide me.  I had become a pumpkin on that hand.


Poker is a humbling sport for sure, but I find that lessons like these only make me better.  The good news is that I am properly bankrolled these days for a $65 tournament, and I can truly look at it as a cheap price for a good learning experience.


I'm anxious to play another event that's similar in scope -  you can't really do better than a 100K shot for $65.   I'll have to look long and hard at the LAPC schedule, most of the remaining buy-ins are significantly higher, but if I can satellite into one of them, I think it would be well worth it.

More Run Bad but looking forward to 2012

Random recap of the year since the last post.


Played quite a bit of live poker in the last months of 2011 - cashed a handful of times, but mostly failed to fade 2 outers and inevitably made moves when I was crushed.


Finished out the Flatline season without cashing, save for a money-back chop that I negotiated at 1:30 in the morning on a bat-shit insane 8-game mix of my own design.   Anxious to start again in mid-January.


I will also be running and participating in "Worldline" our annual World Series of Poker satellite series.  This year it's 20 tournaments, scored as usual, with all of them counting towards a 1K seat.


Found a new home game this year, Eric T. hosts it.   Lots of fun, a 20K stack tournament SNG single table with no antes and soft players.  Have cashed 3 out of 6 times, and they are getting wise to me, but it still seems like it will be profitable.


HPC has been fairly cruel - either super card dead, or again (as I alluded above) I have been unable to dodge the requisite cards from hell.    Haven't cashed there in ages - probably close to 10 tournaments.


Also dabbled the other night at the Bike, found it soft and a good structure for $60, but the inmates are running the asylum over there.  Far worse than HPC in terms of dealer abuse and out of control regulars.   The Bike makes HPC look positively civilized.  Much cleaner card room, but much nastier people.


Had my aces cracked by A10 AIPF at PSP the other night.  Delightful, but typical.


I'm ready to start running like Mercier any day now.  All set and prepared.


Of course, as a good player Matthew S. pointed out to me in a recent e-mail, when we run bad we tend to play bad in tandem, because we get tilted and our decisions are poor.   This is largely true, but of course I'm not playing THAT bad - not nearly as bad as my results in the last six months have shown.


I was up over 1K in winnings from Flatline over 3 years - now I'm just under 800.   Stuck 200 for the season.  Ready to step back, readjust, and get more patient there.  Sven gave me the best advice ever for that league, and this reminds me - I've had dry stretches there before - his advice was, "Good cards will come".  This is super true now, with so many new fishy stations swimming about.


Two resolutions:


1
Must must MUST finally get an accurate spread sheet (now that I know how to do them) and keep track of my bank roll in all forms of poker.   Hopefully by the end of 2012 I will be able to add back online play (besides Flatline) as there are rumblings of sanity returning to our government.


2
Am going to take the plunge more often into cash game play in card rooms.


Busted in a sick manner one Sunday at HPC and had the afternoon to kill before the 430 second chance - took the opportunity to play $100 NL.   HPC's version of small stakes cash game No Limit Hold-Em, blinds at $2 and $3, 100 maximum buy in with $150 max reload.   I was shocked, shocked, SHOCKED at how timid the table was and at how SOFT it was.  There was one maniac who had no idea what he was doing, I managed to get all his chips and mine in the middle after the turn and he was dead to 3 cards, which of course he hit.   Unfazed, I reloaded and promptly stacked him once, twice, three times to finish up over $200 in profit.   That, was amazing and a wake up call to me.  The word about Vegas cash games is that they are WAY softer than SoCal.   Oh really?  Looks like I'll have to find out.


For a $100 max buy in table, I figure to budget 3 buy-ins.  If I'm felted 3 times, just like a tourney, I walk and wait for the next tournament to begin.  It simply appears to be way too profitable to pass up.


********


Very excited about 2012 actually - I can't run any worse, and hopefully with a fresh slate I'll be centered enough to make half decent decisions, so when the good cards do finally come, I can make them profitable.

Spontaneous Vegas

So it turns out one of the major regulars, who's also a great guy, in my Pepper Street Poker home game had a 50th birthday celebration planned for the first weekend in October and extended an invitation to me and a few others to join him with his rather large family and a few other friends.

Bet he didn't think I'd take him up on it!

For Mike (the birthday boy) it wasn't really about cards, but he did join me for one tournament. (More on that in a minute).

For me, it turned out to be mostly about teh pokerz, but I also made a really good faith effort to share in the celebration and be around for the major birthday events.

The first such good time after my arrival was on Friday night; the entire group, including all but 2 of Mike's 6 siblings (wow) and his folks and his lady companion (who is as groovy as he is) joined a smattering of friends (including me) for sausage and schnitzel at the massive Hofbrauhaus restaurant across from the Hard Rock.

The food was decent (you really can't go wrong with comfort cuisine) but the music and atmosphere was off the chain and a spanking good time was had by all. No, literally, it was spanking good - as the waitresses brought around giant wooden paddles and shots. The birthday boy knocked one back and then assumed the position to have his ass smacked hella hard. Those wacky Germans.

Afterwards I played blackjack for the FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE.  I was a bit scared, but thanks to Mike's expert advice, which apparently you can give freely without penalty in black jack (a good indication that the house can't be beat), I cashed out with $50 in profit.  Nice.

The following night it was Nikki Lee's Sports Bar where all of us, including another sister who just arrived (the 5th of Mike's 6 sibs) had an absolute blast (at least for the first quarter and a bit beyond) cheering on the Nebraska Cornhuskers as they faced off against the hated Wisconsin Badgers.

Now I know as much about College Football as a fish knows about a bicycle, but I quickly learned the Nebraska chants and got into the spirit very easily. It got a little tougher later on when Wisconsin decided to beat up on the big red (the nickname for Nebraska) like a proverbial red-headed step-child. Even the die hard fans didn't stick around for the entire slaughter, but it was still a heck of a lot of fun.

Sunday evening Mike and his brood were planning to see the "Love" Cirque show, I explained to him that my wife would have me tracked down and killed were I to see it without her; but we still had the morning and early afternoon for poker. I was very pleased to buy-in for the birthday boy (I figured he had a good chance of turning it into more anyway) and we both settled in to the same table (he in the 3, me in the 8, just about right) for a $50 splash-a-ment at Treasure Island.

This thing played out as many of these events do. I'm proud to say that Mike and I both were basically the only open raisers in the first phases of the 3 table tournament, and clearly also the best players. Not bragging really, no judgement - that's just how it was.

I did manage to tangle with him on a couple of hands. Nothing serious - but early on I did bluff him off a blind defense with a c-bet even though I blanked on a favorable board. Later when I tried to steal again he 3 bet me off my marginal starting cards on my follow up bet on the flop.

The most memorable hand between us is rapidly fading from my memory, it was in the middle of the tournament, we were still at our first table. I do believe he was drawing to a big hand and I fired a second barrel to get him off of it. I don't think I connected with the flop at all, but I honestly can't remember too much beyond that.

The good news was, we both made it to the final four. Less good for him was that he was on a teeny stack and they only paid 3. Luckily he was able to double up and I pounced on the opportunity to suggest that we all agree to take some $ off of 1st and 2nd to get the bubble (whoever it may be) his buy in back.

The other guys agreed, so when Mike unfortunately did get knocked out, he at least got a 50 spot for his efforts.

But backing up, before we were 4 we were 6. A home game hero to my right was the big stack but I wasn't too far behind. To my left was a familiar villain (not personal, just a poker geek term) - a passive station who had no concept of chip stack sizes or commitment thresholds.

To preface this silliness - we all had less than 20 bigs, the station had about 8.

I had been raising a fair amount and looked down at AK on the button after it was folded to me. After a 2.5x raise station defended his small blind, Mike in the big let his cards go.

Flop came Ax10 - and station check shoved my C-bet. Committed to the hand with about 40% of my stack, I knew I was dead, but had to call. He had A10.

Unremarkable hand really, but it was a noteworthy companion to a very similar hand a bit later after Station had been eliminated.

Home Game Hero still had a monster stacken - I had managed to accumulate back up, after a few well timed shoves and then a few chunky raises to get laydowns pre-flop. But I was still under 15 big blinds, ready to pull the trigger if the timing was right.

5 handed, HGH flat called UTG. He had been doing this all day with QJ, 77, K10, etc. I looked down at A10 and I shipped it, he called with AK.

I have no problem with how I played the hand really. Blinds were ridonkulous and there was no reason to play for 3rd or 2nd as the big jump was for 1st only. I'm either folding or shoving in that spot, and it's just not in my nature to let go of a big ace if I've been card dead for awhile, and I'm facing a passive player with an undeserved mountain in front of him.

The sick part of this hand was the results - and HGH's reaction.

I felt really good that I had managed to stay relatively placid in the face of a 3 outer deflating my own AK on the flop; Mike had to be amazed. I am much more demonstrative in the garage, no doubt because I am among friends and am not going to war the way I do in a card club. There it's all about having fun, and part of the fun is venting a bit.

No, I was completely zen about it, and proud that the Station who sucked out on me was far more emotive than me, even in trying to be a gracious winner.

So when a ten came on the turn after a blank flop on this AK vs. A10 round two, HGH pretty much lost his shit (not mad at me but exasperated) and once again - I was as flat as a mill pond.

Tommy Angelo would have been proud.

To finish up on the results - Mike did indeed "bubble" but got $50 of birthday money so he could get a Beatles T-shirt. I myself did finish third, I just couldn't accumulate enough to overcome my dearth of cards at end game. I don't think I misplayed my exit hand, I probably would remember if I did. But I do know I was silky chill with handshakes all around when the chip leader (who in the end was NOT the home game hero, he was eliminated shortly after his AK got sucked out on) knocked both of us remaining players out on the final hand.

As long as we're still talking about my tilt, which by the way to me was the highlight of my trip (birthday festivities excepted of course), let me tell you about the only real tournament of the three days.

The Wynn $125 nooner. Tough four table tournament, with 30 minute levels and deep blinds. I lasted over 3 hours.

Allen R. stopped in for a quick howdy, another PSP regular who coincidentally was in town for some debauchery with his youngster buddies.

He barely missed my exit, he was off playing 1/3.

My image was slightly loose / aggressive. Earlier I had been seated right next to an older fellow who was a bit of a character, but in a good way. He was a very good conversationalist and I enjoyed chatting it up with him, about movies and the business and in turn, my work.

He watched a hand go down with me and the table "pro" in the 1 seat early on.

This "pro" was the whole nine yards - hoody, sunglasses, i-pod, stone-cold killer (lol).

He had been pretty aggro early on, he seemed to have only one gear and that was pedal to the medal "I don't give a fuck, this is a re-entry event" aggressiveness.

But I have now played with these guys before quite a bit, and I know their game - it's all about image, and crafting it so that you think "Wow, this asshole is crazy. I'm never folding top pair to him!" And then they wake up with aces or kings and you pay them off with AJ all in pre-flop.

I am very grateful that I play tournament poker in Southern California, I really do feel comfortable against any kind of opponent, and I wasn't too worried about this guy. Not that I wasn't avoiding him, I pretty much was.

Anyway, blinds are low, we're all fairly deep at 80 blinds or so.

He raises in EP (again) and two people behind me call. I do as well on the button with Ac 5c sooooted. (I know, I know, but pot odds right?)

Flop comes middling cards with 2 clubs. He fires about a third of the rather bloated pot. The two stations release and I'm faced with better than 4 to 1. Insta-float.

The turn bricks with a face card unrelated to the texture so far. This time he stops his rhythm and tanks on the bet size.

He either hit his queen or blanked, because all the time he is taking, he is crafting how to best achieve his goal. He fires over half the pot, a HUGE c-bet for him (based on his bet sizing on previous hands) and a bet that just screams GO AWAY.

I really tanked a bit myself on this (something that I'm finally starting to do more, rather than just snap-decide) and did decipher what his bet size meant. It was the wrong price, no doubt, but I still had plenty of chips behind, and if I hit I stood to stack him because he was likely to fire a third barrel regardless - if he had indeed hit. If he had hit his queen, I'm guessing he would have done what he did earlier when his AK hit the turn, he bet for value on a fairly wet board against an ABC player (which is no doubt how he perceived me).

Annie Duke, my mentor these days with her incredible new book "Decide to Play Great Poker" would have had me either fold or 3 bet here (that is, shove) rather than call. His second barrel is so large here, that if I'm planning to bet the river I might as well put the chips to use now. He is likely to fold TPGK or even TPTK based on my image at the table thus far.

But I fucked up and called, planning to fold a giant third barrel if I blanked.

The river was a red Ace.

Hmmmmm..... was it good?

He bet. Another big bet, but not as big as it should have been mathematically. Probably under 1/3 of the pot.

Was it for value?

Not necessarily. On the river earlier with the goods, he had just stuck it in, and got looked up by an inferior bottom two pair to his set. Hugely profitable line if he's convinced he has the best hand against a station.

This time, he bet just enough to leave his remaining stack viable.

This is what convinced me to call. He shook his head and looked pissed. I fast rolled my A5, as is my custom, and this steamed him even more.

Big ass pot, ship it.

Old Friendly went on and on about "How could you make that call? You turned it over like you knew it was the best hand!" Actually, that's just a by-product of my fast-rolling technique. I can't stand reluctant show downs, it's infected my home game pretty badly, it just rubs me the wrong way. I never show if I don't have to, but if there is any delay on the dude I'm calling, I flip em quick as a courtesy to other players, on whose time we are wasting by sitting there staring at each other.

Anyway, it was the best decision I made all trip by far, based on a bunch of factors, and it was a shining moment for me. The turn, not so much, it's a ship it or fold situation (leaning towards fold) but I'm glad I didn't lose my nerve, heart or brains when the "pro" stuck in the maximum he could without seriously hurting his remaining bullets.

Flash forward 2 hours.

Old friendly had long since busted (in a nice manner btw) and I assumed he had departed. But when our table broke, there he was at my new home two seats to my left, and he gave me a friendly nod. He had re-entered.

Since his departure I had played the role of classic TAG, c-betting my raises after the flop nearly 100% of the time, only shutting down with multiple opponents in front, and as a result my chips were around average.

Time wore on and then I dipped into what I consider the danger zone (under 15 bigs) as the antes started to take their toll.

Over the next 3 orbits I shoved in position once, twice, three, times. Win, win, win, no showdowns. And with all those dead chippies adding no small amount to my stack. I was now at 16K with blinds at 400/800 and 100 antes. 20 bigs was well above average at this point as we had only been given 7500 to start.

I finally had just enough for a standard 2.5x raise. I did it twice, the second time I had to c-bet a single opponent with nothing (scary) but I knew he was a super nit and thankfully he released.

Still at around 16K a little later (the antes really were relentless) I looked down at KQos in the hijack. Standard raise.

Old Friendly on the button called. Blinds released.

Flop came Q79 rainbow. I c-bet and he wasn't going anywhere, calling quickly.

Turn was a beautiful K completing the rainbow. I checked, as is the line Ms. Duke approves of.

Old Friendly rapidly bet out a random hunk of chips that was nearly but not quite all I had behind.

I immediately said "All-In" figuring there was a fairly decent chance I had run into a set, but not really caring based on the math.

Old Friendly was flummoxed and asked for a count. When he realized it was just under 3K more (into a bloated 30k pot) he sheepishly called, practically before I had already turned up my top top.

"I need a miracle card on the river..." he muttered as he revealed his pocket sixes.

We all know the end to this story.

********

"Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright. The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light, And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout. But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has FAILED TO FADE A FUCKING TWO OUTER!!!!"

I can make light here, because I was expressionless when the card from hell hit. I was a little more demonstrative after I had graciously said goodbye, when Allen R. came over and consoled me.

"I don't play this game often enough for it not to sting..." I confessed. To him. And it did hurt, only because a double up in that spot would have put me right back in it with 40 bigs.

Anyway, I am proud of my demeanor in falling to the short end of a 96% equation.

I'm less proud of my tilt that manifested at the 9am Monte Carlo on the same day, where I had basically run over 2 tables worth of home game dopes for a good 90 minutes, only to get coolered twice and bubble.

I was nice enough on the outside, but inward I was rattled (especially by the way players insisted on still limping after I had quite effectively punished them for it over and over again) and I know this tilt was responsible for my last bit of spew that I probably could have prevented with a moment of reflection.

I said cursory goodbyes, and even gave a "See ya! Good luck!" (of the sarcastic eye-rolling variety) over my shoulder on my way out.

Not my finest moment.

But I was good for the remainder, until that grotesque poker exercise known as H.O.R.S.E. on my final night at the Orleans.

I said it pretty well at the table shortly before my demise...

"Razz is not a very difficult game, but it sure is sadistic."

Needless to say, in the midst of my tilt after a particularly massive draw at O8 that failed to materialize, and therefore did great damage to my already middling stack, I was faced with having to fast play my Razz starting cards.

We all know what fun that is.

With the king and ten showing big stack reraised me all in, it was inevitable that I would pair and brick off, my J6 losing to her 109 in typical razz fashion.

I was pretty nice on my exit, but by the time I reached my car (I went out to fill the tank with gas) I was fuming.

I think I'm done staying at the Orleans for awhile. It is a truly great room, and by great I literally mean one of the best poker rooms in the world, no exaggeration. The only place on the planet that regularly spreads 7+ table HORSE and Omaha/8 tournaments. The best value for structure NLHE daily I've ever played in; and a potentially huge cash game jackpot (six figure plus) that has seen me playing 2/4 for hours simply to possibly hit a big payday.

But the room is SoCal tough - nitty and savvy regulars. In over half a decade of making the Orleans my home base, I have never cashed in a tournament there.

Much as it pains me, it is time to move on and stick with NLHE in softer pastures.

I think my new room of choice is going to be Harrah's.

Harrah's room is quiet, closed off, and unlike Orleans which is one of the worst offenders in Vegas, entirely smoke free. Best of all the clientele is very soft, and they run 5 tournaments every day! True, they are turbos, but how can I beat 8am, 10am, 3pm, 8pm and 1am? The PERFECT times for filling up in between the more typical Vegas tourney times of noon and 7pm.

My hotel room is booked for early February. I am NOT going to rent a car for once, all the poker goodness at Harrah's is super close.

I plan to get in four full days, I will definitely hit at least 3 majors - for sure the Wynn, probably the V and/or A, and maybe, just maybe my first ever event at the B.

Very much looking forward to it!

Now where did I put that Zen?

For several years now, I've worked very hard on becoming "tilt-less", the Tommy Angelo mantra on keeping your cool and emotional neutrality at the table.

With a recent run of less than great results, a handful of min-cashes in my home game, a long string of early exits on Flatline and 6 straight HPC evening tournaments without a cash - I've found myself slipping back into my old ways.

Mixer, a good friend and poker confidante, has bested me at least a half dozen times live at showdown, as well as online in two memorable and crippling hands over the last couple of weeks. Most of these instances, and for sure the online hands, were him getting there on the river, despite my correct betting with the better hand.

Not that he played the hands wrong, he typically has had a gang of outs and gotten the right price to speculate when you consider implied odds. In most of these instances, I was leading the betting, he was calling down and then value bet heftily on fifth street, but not so hefty as to deny me irresistible pot odds. So I would pay him off and he would turn over the stone cold nuts again and again.

Especially frustrating because typically I would be well ahead and stood to drag a nice pot until the card from hell would hit and I would be stuck and forced to call when I knew I was beat.

So of late, from Mixer and also from others, notably d12, a spewy station (though a groovy person) and M00NWA1KER (a youngster who has some chops) had been getting the best of me at the river as well, seemingly with unlikely outs hitting. Most fun was getting it all in on a Jack high board with me having AA and he having AJ, one guess as to which card from hell hit on the river.

So I've been cracking under this run of bad variance.

Last Monday I was really genuinely pissed off at the poker table for the first time in a long time - I wasn't angry at other players whatsoever (there wasn't really any bad play from them to speak of, and even if there had been, I'm always in favor of players donking it up, results not withstanding) - I was mad at my seeming inability to fade the aforementioned hell cards.

Especially maddening, because I'm very happy with my game these days - I make very good reads, my lines of play are very well thought out and should (SHOULD) be working. To get bitch slapped over and over again as a reward for playing so well, is so fucking tiresome at times.

But I need to remember where I put that zen... I know it's around here somewhere.

There is a truism in poker, expressed by many professionals and wise amateurs, but probably most beautifully stated by Annie Duke in her bootcamps and now in her new book.

An inelegant paraphrase of this truism is that the main goal of poker is not to win money or pots, but to make the best decisions you can. The winning of money and pots only comes about as a result of pursuing this goal.

Greg Raymer has also echoed this - saying that as long as you are making correct decisions throughout your poker game, you cannot let results color your emotions, no matter how gut wrenching those results may be.

I get it, it's logical - but it sure can be hard to live by this credo.

So last night I was invited to a home game hosted by a regular in my game - it was a mix of his guys and mine; ten players, deepstack tournament, top three were to get paid.

So early on, with so many chips to play with, I was playing good and running good. C-betting my way to accumulation as well as floating and bluffing a bit against the right targets.

I was up, and then Mixer raised from the small blind against my big.

I had K8, which I knew was probably at or ahead of his range.

I flat called, the board came QxK. He c-bet less than half the pot and I flatted.

The turn was an 8. He checked, I bet half the pot. He called.

The turn was an Ace. Perfect, this was what I put him on.

He bet less than 1/3 of the pot, and I instantly knew what that meant from all those other river from hell showdowns.

He was strong. My middle two pair was probably no good.

I was getting almost 5 to 1. But what could he have to beat me? J10? Really?

That's all I was really worried about, but that was silly.

The flush draw didn't get there on the board - he had shut it down after the flop - Logic screamed that I was good, barring the gutterball from hell or some wonky higher two pair I suppose. A set was out, because he likes to fast play and would have kept leading on the turn with the flush draw out there.

I called fairly quickly, he insta rolled the nuts; broadway.

It was painful and I showed it; moaning and groaning a bit. Jack fucking 10.

I wasn't very mad at him, he did have a shitty flush draw to go with his open ended straight (yes, I consider the fourth best flush a shitty flush, wierd I know) and of course the 2 other aces and 4 nines for 15 outs total.

My turn bet gave him 3 to 1 to try and hit a roughly 3 to 1 draw, and he understandably took it. That's life.

Thankfully he didn't value bet me higher; I would hope I could have let my less than fantastic 2 pair go in the face of a potential truly crippling bet, but honestly I was so tilted when he dropped those chips in on the river (because I knew in my gut I was toast) that I very well may have stacked off.

Anyway, as I was saying, I pissed and moaned like a little bitch, with a few raised eyebrows firing off around the table as a result. I assured Mixer that I was only steamed at my bad luck, which was basically true - and went on to say that my frustration mostly stemmed from my aforementioned bad results over the last 2 months.

I gave examples, I grunted, I rolled my eyes, I sighed heavily.

What I needed to do was shut the fuck up.

Poker is a truly humbling game. Last night was a text book example of this.

I settled down and tightened up; I was slowly whittled down as the evening stretched on.

Then I was all in; I tripled up in a multi-way main pot with Jack high. Crazy.

I doubled up again when my AQ hit against a low pocket pair push.

I doubled up yet again in another race. Then again.

I was near the top in chips as the bubble approached, and I cranked up the aggression - getting better hands to fold in the face of not making the money after over 4 hours of play.

I didn't care too much - I was just incredibly lucky to be still around. I used this lack of fear to start running over the table.

Best of all, I finally faded a three outer against Mixer when my KQ held up against his QJ - AI PF.

In the end, the blinds were monstro, so I pushed for and got an even chop heads up when we had exchanged big swings of chips a few times.

$200 in my pocket, plus another $25 in bounties.

As I said, poker is a humbling game.

Though I was elated to have run and played so well, I also felt like a huge, world-class douche nozzle for my earlier grousing.

Mixer, God bless him, smiled and understood in the face of my heart felt shame.

I found my Zen.

It was just out of sight there, underneath my ego, which was also covering my once growing but now stunted and deprived humility.

I think the ego needs to be pushed aside and I need to let the sun and water have access to the humility and zen.

I'm better than a temper tantrum throwing Hellmuth, I know that.

I just need to remember last night from now on, and resolve to do better.

WSOP 2011

I posted this awhile back on my home game blog. I thought I would also post it here, along with some discussion of poker strategy. You can spot the new text from the old because the new stuff is italicized.

Yes, that dork in the sunglasses is me. No, I didn't actually wear them when I was playing, but I did have Allen take a shot of me looking "cool" for posterity. The official photographer came around and snapped one similar to the shot below.

Yes, as you probably all know and recognize - this is my actual poker face. Tres' dork.

In any case, a grand time was had by all - including my home game regulars Dog and Jason H., as well as Noah P. (can't seem to find a picture of him) who didn't play in a WSOP event, and yet somehow still managed to enjoy themselves.

My day of playing in WSOP Event #43, a $1500 NLHE event, went pretty quickly - but there were long stretches of folding, punctuated by occasional moments of terror.

The first such moment went like this - I was in the 2 seat, across the table in the 8 seat was a young "pro" from New Zealand. Probably 15 years younger than me, in artsy reading specs, tousled hair and a Full Tilt hoody. An odd wardrobe choice, considering the events of black Friday and Full Tilt's refusal to pay players back. The entire room probably had less than a dozen of these patches, and the room had over 3000 people in it. Somebody did eventually call him on it, and he just shrugged and claimed because he didn't live in the US it meant that it was all good. Whatever.

Anyway, the hand; With blinds only at 75/150 or thereabouts and me sitting on just a bit under my starting stack of 4500, I raised 3x UTG with Aces, it was the first hand I'd played in awhile. With hour long levels, this was by far the deepest and best structured tournament I'd ever played in. It was folded to Specs on the button, he flat called, the blinds released.

The flop came Qx10, I c-bet half the pot, Specs floated. The turn I can't remember, but it was a low blank. I checked the turn, intending to call. If I had the best hand on the flop, I figured it still was. Specs fired a 2/3 pot bet, it was a big bet. A hand committing bet for me - or I could fold. Without thinking enough, I shoved.

He tanked, forever and ever - counting out his chips to see how much he would have left.

I was nervous, I tried not to show it but I'm sure it bled through. I still thought I might have the best hand, but I could see that he would have enough left over that he wasn't committed to the hand.

In hindsight, I really like my line against him, because he did eventually lay it down. And, he showed! Q 10. Yikes.

He gave me credit for fast playing a set or some larger hand, which, I'm not sure. He said "Good hand" and tapped the table - a sure sign of respect, or really - he just didn't know me and wasn't ready to go for it this early.

Although, as I said in hindsight, I'm happy with my approach to the hand - at the time I felt not so great. The good news was, even though he was an aggressive pro, he wasn't comfortable going to the mat with top 2 against a "rock" like me who had barely played a hand. Still, I didn't think long enough about my move - though I really know deep down, it was a give up or shove moment. If I had called I had zero plan for the river. If a scare card had come, another broadway card or even an ace (which would have likely completed his draw if he had one) - I would have been up shit creek, with too many chips committed to get away from my rockets. Looking back, the better decision probably would have been to release, knowing he wasn't fooling around this early with such a large bet on the turn. He was protecting against my draw getting there, he wasn't bluffing - though his line was a classic 2 part float that I've used many a time.

That was by far the most memorable hand of my WSOP experience. The hand I went out on too was a biggy, and kind of sick in a bullshit home-game kinda way.

I had been in fold/shove mode for about a level and a half. I made it past the dinner break, and now the end of the day (10 levels) was approaching, and also, as it would turn out, was the money.

I pulled the trigger twice I believe, and didn't get looked up, but collected large enough pots with the blinds and antes, to give me pretty substantial breathing room to wait for premiums.

I could count on one hand, the number of limped pots in the 8 hours and 43 minutes of poker time that I played. Nobody limped at my table without getting raised; nobody. It just, didn't, happen.

Each and every player, to a man (and a woman or two) knew what they were doing. I wouldn't say I was greatly outclassed, but there weren't any dolts to be seen. After reading story after story on poker forums about how soft the fields were at the Rio, I was mildly disappointed at how solid everyone was.

There was one hippy dippy guy, just to the right of Specs, who had a lot of fun and luck early on fooling around with speculative hands out of position. He defended his small blind to the death I noticed - but he hit often enough and bet time after time so that he got paid handsomely. But I knew he was not long for the table unless his heater continued. It was rather gratifying to have my prediction of his fate come true, as he started to spew and spew as his luckboxing cooled off.

Anyhow - my last hand. As I said, I had pulled the trigger a few times and found success. Even managed to release pocket jacks again when I knew there was an over pair behind me (and there were actually two, kings vs. queens!)

But each time I pulled the trigger, there was one mouthy douche who had showed up only a couple of hours before - who would hem and haw and hem and haw and finally release.

Then I looked down at kings. Douche raised it up, I shoved, it came back around, he tanked FOREVER again, and finally folded with much griping and grousing.

Less than 20 minutes later, I was getting a bit more desperate. Douche raised it up for the umpteenth time from middle position. He didn't have a big stack, but he was getting involved a lot and always seemed to scrape by or luck out.

Fromt he cutoff I looked down at AQ suited - I really believed in my heart of hearts that I was ahead of his range. I shoved.

To my horror the small blind re-shoved. He was a rockish home gamer who I knew had me crushed.

The douche yammered on and on once again, but finally called and turned over...

wait for it...

...yep, aces.

Slow rolled in the WSOP! Nice!

Small blind had both of us covered, I had douche covered by just a little bit. Small blind had AK.

The board ran out and the aces held, but a queen spiked on the river so I got a small side pot to ease the pain a little. Otherwise I would have been bust - now I was sitting on less than 3K with the blinds at 150/300 and soon to be 200/400.

Two or three hands later I got it first in with A10. Rocky small blind from the previous hand with my AQ shoved again; this time he had kings and that was that.

I admit, I was a bit pissed at the slow roll and I berated the douche a bit. He wasn't worth it.

About 15 minutes after my bust out I cooled quite a bit and felt over all pretty happy with my experience. It was by far the longest session of poker I'd ever played - and I did pretty well. I won more than a handful of pots, sometimes with the goods, a couple of other times with c-bets and even two or three times by raising a weak lead with nothing.

I had played poker. Really, hung in there exceptionally well, with a bunch of dudes who all were at my level or above. In the end, the only original players from our table left were Specs and I. He would go on to make the money and play well into day 2. It turned out that I was 110 from the money, but they finished the night with only 35 non-paying spots left.

In the end, my call with AQ wasn't the best in the world, but I had to go with my read. I supposed I could have been more patient and lasted a few more orbits. One thing I never got a chance to do was limp with AA or KK and then shove the 3 bet, I know that would have worked.

Ah well. I CAN'T WAIT until the next one. I WILL be playing in it.

There were a couple of dudes in our group that didn't indulge, but they seemed to be having fun..

No, I didn't know they were doing this. But how can anyone not be giddy in the face of this...

A veritable ocean of poker players and an overwhelming din of shuffling chips. My table was right up against the stage - so I got to see tournament director Jack Effel up close and personal for his announcements. And I got a very good look as well at congressmen Joe Barton from Texas, who had the honor of yelling out "Shuffle Up and Deal!" at my event.

I must say, and some of you know this about me, as a facist rightwing nutball (not really, but on some stuff yeah, I'm evil) it did my heart good to finally, finally, FINALLY see someone from the right side of the aisle stand up for poker.

Rep. Barton has co-authored a bipartisan bill to legalize money transactions between banks/credit card companies and online poker sites. Here's hoping it goes through Joe! All of you should write your congress people and tell them to make it so! If you haven't already, click on the banner on this site to the right and join the Poker Players Alliance today!

Yes, I digress, but this stuff is important for poker players, especially us recreational ones. Numbers don't lie, attendance for the WSOP is up over 20% overall this year, it is crazy that our government wants to stand in the way of our right to be degenerate gamblers! (Or to put it another way, keep us from the beautiful game of skill that is poker).

Speaking of skill, my home game - Pepper St. Poker had two other players besides me (who wasn't even playing for the league after all) representing the humble garage out back - and both of them lasted longer than my mere 8 hours and 43 minutes.

Allen Q. almost made day 2, almost. After nearly ten hours of playing poker (plus a 90 minute dinner break and several other breaks, making for a 14 hour day) he got his money in way ahead, only to have trash call him down pre-flop and hit on the flop. Cest' le' pokerz.

Allan is a dear friend and confidante - he excels at reading people at the poker table and usually has superb timing at getting his chips in. That said, he is one of the most passive poker players I've ever sat down with (though he will dance if his stack is deep and/or the blinds are large). As I've noted before on this blog, it all stems from the hundreds of hours he played online for free. He seems convinced, that "making correct decisions" is all that matters irrespective of his opponents.

I know better; that if your opponent doesn't care about the money (or in his case, doesn't care because there IS NO MONEY to begin with) if fundamentally changes the game itself. The day that Allen recognizes the fundamental fallacy behind his reasoning and rationalizing play money poker, is the day that he becomes an incredibly dangerous poker player.

The other PSP rep, Eric T., did all of us more than one better, getting to day 2 with 10 big blinds, and then incredibly accumulating and making it into the money! Of all the years I've been doing this, in my home game, online with friends, and elsewhere - I've sent 9 people to the big show, including myself. This is the very first time someone has cashed. We are not worthy Eric!

Every PSP player who participated in the satellite that Eric won will be pocketing $165, and Eric himself will be taking home around $2000. Hopefully this will give some incentive next year for those of you who have been a bit unsure. The great thing about poker and this event, is it is truly a game where anyone on any given day can sit down with the best and beat them, at least in the short term.

I haven't played with Eric that much in my home game - until he cashed here in Vegas I would have pegged him as a typical TAG with an emphisis on the T. He routinely does not C-Bet, and will check fold if he's out of position when he blanks the flop. Still, I have to give him credit as a player based on his short term results. After returning from his World Series cash, he promptly took down a PSP tournament. He must be doing something that I'm not reading.

I am especially excited to play in the WSOP next year. While I still plan to take a shot in a satellite or two, I am also going to just flat out save up and buy my own way in so I can be the only one who collects if I cash. Eric has proved to me that it can be done, even playing ABC poker, and this fills me with confidence that I might not be dead money after all.

Most of all - I want to cash, and get all the monies - at least several thousand dollars that I can put entirely into a real poker bankroll. If I cash for crazy money, I would even set some aside for the Main Event, no doubt.

After the WSOP, there was still plenty of poker and other activities. Dog took it upon himself to take two food challenges. First, there was the firecracker burger at Aria's SkyBox, which featured Ghost Chili, a substance three times hotter than jabenero peppers. He had to first sign a waiver before he could indulge, just in case he passed out or something. The waitress was super paranoid about touching Dog's dishes and then accidentally wiping her face. Dog himself also wore rubber gloves and had pepto at hand.

In the end he couldn't quite finish it off. With 3 bites left he smartly called it quits - as there was only bragging rights and a free beer at stake. He was in severe pain, his bald head glistening in sweat and bright red. I was in awe. The next day he confided to me that he paid an even steeper price at 4am in the form of a spectacular gastro-intestinal detonation. Had he known that such a horrific cost was going to be endured, he would have simply had those last three bites. Ah well.

A far bigger pay day than a free beer was at hand for his next challenge - this.

Yes, that is a 9 pound bowl of the Vietnamese classic - Pho. With a progressive jackpot of around $900 to be paid to anyone who could consume this monstrosity in 87 minutes or less (the name of the offending restaurant being "Pho 87") this was just too juicy a proposition for the good Dog to pass up. Unfortunately, the noodles were also too juicy, despite Dog's rapid drinking of the broth and consumption of the meat, he couldn't quite stomach the fierce expansion of the pasta, and so too this challenge had to go un-beaten.

But for all of us on this trip, the destination (or the cash you might say) was secondary to the journey. We all played additional deep stack tournaments, and Allen and I even tried our hand at a $200 Pot Limit Omaha 8 or better event at the world famous Binion's gambling hall.

I played nearly as long as I did in the WSOP and busted out in heart breaking fashion with AA28 double suited against a garbage hand that had a mountain of chips behind it to call me down and flop a monster draw which hit on the turn.

This really was a true heart-breaker. I felt invigorated at the poker table after 8 hours, because I knew I was better (or at least AS good) than most of the other guys, and at least in the same league as the 2 "pros" that sat across from me.

I will definitely seek out more Omaha/8 tournaments of the Pot Limit variety - if the crowd at Binion's was any indication, I'm definitely not at the shallow end of the ability pool in this game.

It was a very memorable time for many reasons - most of all that I surprised myself at how well I played in an event that I just assumed I was dead money in. My years upon years of home cash game play in fixed limit O8, combined with a half decade of NLHE study and dedication, paid off big time as I held my own against these PLO8 specialists. For me, this was just as memorable as the WSOP in it's own way; the best time I've had from a pure playing standpoint in any event ever.

In fact, and I know I say this with every Vegas trip report, but this really was the best time ever. 5 days was probably too much, I was dead tired at the end, but I wouldn't change it for anything. The memories and these photos, courtesy of Allen and his kick ass low light camera, are truly priceless.

Look very carefully above and below. Where's Waldo?

Above - The money approaches. (My favorite shot of the trip.)

Jason finally breaks his stoic and intimidating table demeanor. And the next shot reveals why, Allen and Jason are at the same table in a 1000 player deep stack event. Hmmm.

Later, Allen reaches the money and min-cashes. The rest of the table is just as excited as he is.

Later, he takes it down at Binion's. Okay, he actually just poses in front of their famous pile of a million bucks. Benny Binion started this back in the early 70's and you can still do it today.

Someday...