V: Super Hot, or Killing the Goldfish

Starting balance: $231.80

Take notice, bitches: the goldfish is dead (confession: sometimes I look at the mirror so I can see just how truly unmenacing I am when I trash talk, and the effect is far, far more laughable than even I had feared. Tragically, however, that knowledge slows me down not a whit).

But of this goldfish: what goldfish, you might reasonably ask? Why, the animated gif of a goldfish gaily leaping out its little gif bowl that sharkscope saw fit to add to my name by way of editorial comment on my play. In fact, when Douchebag first searched me on there, he was nearly giddy with delight as he reported back that I was, in fact, the very first person he knew who had such a goldfish (meaning something like I was in the bottom 25% of players).

Well fuck. that. fish. The last 24 hours have seen a roll, a rush, a tear, a veritable cyclone of poker thrills, after a long and unblogged period of much boredom and little variance (though sadly with a decided downward creep). Actually, things started picking up a few days ago when I at least I started to place in the money every few tourneys or so, but most often in the very unsatisfying third-place spot. This barely-holding-on business was doing nothing good for either my balance of my confidence (and how did those fucking cat posters get so popular in the first place?).

And then, my good friends, I hit the zone: Since yesterday and as of this writing, I have played 11 SNGs to finish first in six, and second in three for a win:loss ratio that not only sank the minnow but now has me -- quite rightly -- rated on sharkscope as "Super-Hot." And one of those losses was my pre-flop all-in KK against A6os: even I, boomswitched Superman that I apparently am, remain vulnerable to the kryptonite that are donkeys and the river.

But Herr V, you are thinking, we love you, we do, but we've been on this ride with you before. What's to say you won't go eat noodles with your beloved, come back, and, well, we can't even bring ourselves to say it. And you are right, but this time -- and this is where hubris will no doubt bite me in the ass soon enough -- I feel like a lot of the factors that had been holding me down all came together.

My biggie, of course: patience. As I've done before, I waited for choice hands, though critically I've loosened up my starting hand standards when I am in position and the blinds are low enough to permit a gamble or two. And while still aggressively protecting hands when I hit the board hard, I let go a lot of hands that would have otherwise gotten me into trouble; for example, I released KTos on the button when the board hit AKJ rainbow with two fellow limpers still in the pot; for once I figured the A had to be out there despite the lack of a preflop raise, and sure enough I watched as A5 took most of the chips from J8.

Too, I am listening more to what the other players are telling me, clocking their betting habits more closely, getting a sense of who to look up and who to respect: in short, finally playing poker like a poker player ought to. For example, in that last hand, I had a sense of who had what -- J8 was first to bet, and I would have raised but for the intervening call by A5. Similarly, in another game, down to three, I got doubled up while busting out an incessant preflop raiser when the 7 in my K7 paired on the flop for middle pair (Q73): he had raised preflop to 2xBB, and now raised me when I bet the pot amount after the flop. What to do? Well, he'd been loose in previous showdowns, we were the two small stacks, and his bet was less than all-in, which is how he'd bet before when he'd made his hand: in short, his raise reeked of position, desperation and his usual overplay. Ordinarily I won't play middle pair that hard (and ordinarily I am long gone with K7) but it was time for a move and I knew this was it. I reraise all-in, he pauses and then -- astonishingly, as it turns out -- calls! He turn over K8?? (and not the AQ that I suddenly feared). Out he goes in short order when his 8 unsurprisingly fails to pair, and my refreshed chip stack eventually lets me take first.

Finally too, I stopped pressing premium hands so hard pre-flop (in part because of my KK v A6 fiasco). This not only increased the value of those hands as I would get a few more callers, but more critically I was protecting my own tourney life; there are, as noted, too many donkeys keen to call any raise with any Ax, and so why go all-in with KK or QQ, even if you are dominating? Even more so with AK and AQ, when there are those who think it the very height of clever poker to call 4xBB bets with a suited 43. This more cautious approach -- a willingness to settle for a decent pot while hedging against disaster instead of the double-or-bust approach -- stood me in good stead.

Oh, a second "finally:" I took Douchebag's advice and haven't left my rush, or my couch, all day, though I am growing a bit faint from hunger and my fiancee is um less than exuberant about this pasttime of ours.

Was I still doing awful, stupid things? You betcha! Dripping minimum bets down to the river in hopes of catching my flush or straight ranks right up there. Walking into trips, can't seem to stop doing that. And, when shorthanded, I lose too many pots by folding when my opponent bets at a board of rags (though, in fairness, I've been doing something right by paying this bitch tax if my strategy of waiting for playable if not premium cards has been panning out). And was I getting lucky? Sure, and at some key times: my AK setting TT all in pre-flop, the flop comes KKT...and then runner-runner Jacks to send him packing. But all in all, I am very pleased, and will, if I can eat some food and avoid domestic problems, be back to see what this evening brings. I'm no Douchebag, but I'm trying.

Ending balance: $368.30 ...but wait...

Add a first place win in a 27-seat $5 SNG.

Ending balance: $ 412.80