Well, it only took 11.2 months, but the Badger finally broke $200!
At this rate I will easily make my $10,000 target by...oh, say, 2089!
It has been a real up-and-down battle (more on what I have been doing right--and what I am probably continuing to do wrong) soon.
In any event, as pathetically modest as this milestone is, it still feels good...
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
LATEsummer’s Night Dream (4 of 4): Mediocrity in the Online World.
So, how goes the Badger’s online game—you know, the $100 into $10,000 challenge; the real point of this whole thing?
Well,there are three ways to look at it:
1. I have squandered several hundred hours of my life, playing something like 800 Sit & Goes, with a measly $72 profit to show (to put it another way, I have made an average of less than 10 cents/game profit; PokerStars has made a profit of 40 cents—and that’s just off of me—not to mention the other 8 or 9 players in each SnG!)
2. I have received a vast amount of entertainment (if not, at times, supremely frustrating entertainment!) and have actually made a teeny tiny bit of a profit to boot.
3. I have logged hours and hours and hours in the online laboratory. That study has started to seriously pay off: knowledge of proper strategy relative to the stage of the tourney, coupled with a very marked improvement in “hand-reading” and bluffing skills have resulted in a highly profitable tear in bricks & motar play (in cash games to some degree; in tourneys to a great degree).
So, on balance, it is hard to quibble too much with my performance. I am a superior player to the one that set out on this journey in January. Yet, in the vast poker eco system, I have probably evolved from a single-celled amoeba into perhaps a newt. But there are plenty of T-Rexes and Great Whites in the poker world. I am just a newt (not even properly a badger yet)!
My father suggested that $100 into $10,000 was so unrealistic as to be insane. He was right—and that is precisely why I wanted to take a stab at it.
Sadly, I don’t think I will have an immense amount of time to play over the next couple months (at least not as much as I’ve had over the summer). And, truth be told, even if I had 10 hours/day to play, $172 (my current balance) into $10,000 in 3 ½ months would be a virtual impossibility. I just ain’t there skill-wise. At least not yet.
Also, there seems to be a gap between my online and offline results that I cannot quite get my arms around. I would like to say that it’s poor luck in the online world, but I know that’s not fair. I suspect it is rather two other factors: given their frequency of play, many online players—even at low buy-ins—are stonger than casual B&M players. Also, I think I am far better at focusing on strategy and reading my opponents in the “real” world. But these are just theories, not excuses. Bottom line: I need to be performing better online.
Perhaps as Autumn rusts into Winter, my blood will turn warm and I will grow some hair. Then maybe this newt will become a badger. And even a badger will probably never get to $10,000. But he will happily part with his meager $172 balance in an effort to get there!
I suspect that as the year closes, I will take a few stabs at higher buy-in MTTs in an attempt at significantly growing my balance. But I further suspect that I will end the year somewhere in the triple digits (unless I go on either a massive tilt or a massive rush).
If I am masochistic I will probably roll over that year-end balance into some form of 2010 challenge. If so, I should be starting 2010 with a much stronger skill set—and maybe, just maybe, a shot at that $10,000 number!
Evolve or die!
Well,there are three ways to look at it:
1. I have squandered several hundred hours of my life, playing something like 800 Sit & Goes, with a measly $72 profit to show (to put it another way, I have made an average of less than 10 cents/game profit; PokerStars has made a profit of 40 cents—and that’s just off of me—not to mention the other 8 or 9 players in each SnG!)
2. I have received a vast amount of entertainment (if not, at times, supremely frustrating entertainment!) and have actually made a teeny tiny bit of a profit to boot.
3. I have logged hours and hours and hours in the online laboratory. That study has started to seriously pay off: knowledge of proper strategy relative to the stage of the tourney, coupled with a very marked improvement in “hand-reading” and bluffing skills have resulted in a highly profitable tear in bricks & motar play (in cash games to some degree; in tourneys to a great degree).
So, on balance, it is hard to quibble too much with my performance. I am a superior player to the one that set out on this journey in January. Yet, in the vast poker eco system, I have probably evolved from a single-celled amoeba into perhaps a newt. But there are plenty of T-Rexes and Great Whites in the poker world. I am just a newt (not even properly a badger yet)!
My father suggested that $100 into $10,000 was so unrealistic as to be insane. He was right—and that is precisely why I wanted to take a stab at it.
Sadly, I don’t think I will have an immense amount of time to play over the next couple months (at least not as much as I’ve had over the summer). And, truth be told, even if I had 10 hours/day to play, $172 (my current balance) into $10,000 in 3 ½ months would be a virtual impossibility. I just ain’t there skill-wise. At least not yet.
Also, there seems to be a gap between my online and offline results that I cannot quite get my arms around. I would like to say that it’s poor luck in the online world, but I know that’s not fair. I suspect it is rather two other factors: given their frequency of play, many online players—even at low buy-ins—are stonger than casual B&M players. Also, I think I am far better at focusing on strategy and reading my opponents in the “real” world. But these are just theories, not excuses. Bottom line: I need to be performing better online.
Perhaps as Autumn rusts into Winter, my blood will turn warm and I will grow some hair. Then maybe this newt will become a badger. And even a badger will probably never get to $10,000. But he will happily part with his meager $172 balance in an effort to get there!
I suspect that as the year closes, I will take a few stabs at higher buy-in MTTs in an attempt at significantly growing my balance. But I further suspect that I will end the year somewhere in the triple digits (unless I go on either a massive tilt or a massive rush).
If I am masochistic I will probably roll over that year-end balance into some form of 2010 challenge. If so, I should be starting 2010 with a much stronger skill set—and maybe, just maybe, a shot at that $10,000 number!
Evolve or die!
Monday, September 14, 2009
LATEsummer’s Night Dream (3 of 4): Runnin’ Good in the Real World.
As the days grow shockingly shorter, and I find myself as likely to be wearing a hoodie as a T-shirt, it is time to reflect back on my summer of poker. This posting will deal with my “live” play performance (i.e., bricks & mortar); the fourth in this series will discuss my online performance.
While I harbor no delusions of greatness, I think it is safe to say that my game has taken a sizable step forward over the June-August time frame. In cash games I have gone from a losing-to-breakeven player to a generally profitable player. As recently as this spring, I would sit in a cash game and wait for big pocket pairs or big aces to make big moves.
Now, I am much more inclined to play drawing hands aggressively in multi-way pots, hunting for the big payoff when I hit my straight or flush. Additionally, I have begun making sizable, timely bluffs (it certainly makes the game a lot more fun!) Frequently, I am now the one cracking other players’ big pairs—instead of vice versa (witness my earlier blogs describing my repeated experiences of having my Kings or Queens cracked).
My tournament results have been even stronger. Kicking off with a first place finish in a 50-odd person tourney several weeks ago when my buddy Troy was visiting from Bangkok, I have come 1st or 2nd in three of my past seven tourneys. I will be the first to admit that there is more than a little luck involved, especially in tournaments, but there has definitely been an improvement in my tourney play.
There is no doubt that the sheer volume of online play has immensely elevated my live tourney play: I play every stage of the tournament in a completely different fashion—I now look back at my all-in pushes with Q,Q in the early stages of a tourney at the Wynn a year ago and laugh. What was I doing?! Of COURSE I would only get called by KK, AA!
The other key component has been a LOT of reading. I joke that I have been earning my second Master’s degree—but in poker instead of finance. This summer alone, I have read swaths of Super/System II, Sklanky on Hold’em, Sklansky on Advanced Tournaments, FullTilt Tourney Guide, Phil Gordon’s Little Blue Book and Read ‘Em and Reap…not to mention multiple issues of CardPlayer (stellar), PokerPro (mediocre) and Bluff (pants).
While the magazines are of varying quality, the books have been uniformly outstanding—lots of intense reading, but worth both the investment (in both time and money) several times over. Playing is much more fun than studying, but studying seems to improve my play much more quickly—perhaps by a factor of 10x.
(The truly scary thing for me to consider is how much work it has been to become merely competent in NL Hold’em; I can’t fathom the amount of work it would take to become good at Omaha, Razz, Deuce-Seven, etc. The thought of trying to attain competence in those other games makes my head spin. Frankly, it even depresses me a little bit: learning to be a good poker player is like swallowing a porcupine—it is really, really hard to stop part way through!)
The end result of the good (but not great) results in cash play and great (not good) results in tourneys is that I have parlayed a July ATM withdrawl of $300 into a bankroll of well over $2,000. (If I attempt a similar blog in 2010, I will definitely have two bankroll targets: one offline {perhaps $2,000 into $20,000?} and one online {if I am masochistic I might again attempt $100 into $10,000}).
In closing, I would like to reiterate that for all the hard study and pleasant results, I am the first to admit that a large portion of the outcome hinges on none other than Lady Luck. The real test of character and ability will occur when Lady Luck leaves my side, and I go through a brutal losing spell.
If—and only if—I can pull through that, then I will know that I have become a real player.
While I harbor no delusions of greatness, I think it is safe to say that my game has taken a sizable step forward over the June-August time frame. In cash games I have gone from a losing-to-breakeven player to a generally profitable player. As recently as this spring, I would sit in a cash game and wait for big pocket pairs or big aces to make big moves.
Now, I am much more inclined to play drawing hands aggressively in multi-way pots, hunting for the big payoff when I hit my straight or flush. Additionally, I have begun making sizable, timely bluffs (it certainly makes the game a lot more fun!) Frequently, I am now the one cracking other players’ big pairs—instead of vice versa (witness my earlier blogs describing my repeated experiences of having my Kings or Queens cracked).
My tournament results have been even stronger. Kicking off with a first place finish in a 50-odd person tourney several weeks ago when my buddy Troy was visiting from Bangkok, I have come 1st or 2nd in three of my past seven tourneys. I will be the first to admit that there is more than a little luck involved, especially in tournaments, but there has definitely been an improvement in my tourney play.
There is no doubt that the sheer volume of online play has immensely elevated my live tourney play: I play every stage of the tournament in a completely different fashion—I now look back at my all-in pushes with Q,Q in the early stages of a tourney at the Wynn a year ago and laugh. What was I doing?! Of COURSE I would only get called by KK, AA!
The other key component has been a LOT of reading. I joke that I have been earning my second Master’s degree—but in poker instead of finance. This summer alone, I have read swaths of Super/System II, Sklanky on Hold’em, Sklansky on Advanced Tournaments, FullTilt Tourney Guide, Phil Gordon’s Little Blue Book and Read ‘Em and Reap…not to mention multiple issues of CardPlayer (stellar), PokerPro (mediocre) and Bluff (pants).
While the magazines are of varying quality, the books have been uniformly outstanding—lots of intense reading, but worth both the investment (in both time and money) several times over. Playing is much more fun than studying, but studying seems to improve my play much more quickly—perhaps by a factor of 10x.
(The truly scary thing for me to consider is how much work it has been to become merely competent in NL Hold’em; I can’t fathom the amount of work it would take to become good at Omaha, Razz, Deuce-Seven, etc. The thought of trying to attain competence in those other games makes my head spin. Frankly, it even depresses me a little bit: learning to be a good poker player is like swallowing a porcupine—it is really, really hard to stop part way through!)
The end result of the good (but not great) results in cash play and great (not good) results in tourneys is that I have parlayed a July ATM withdrawl of $300 into a bankroll of well over $2,000. (If I attempt a similar blog in 2010, I will definitely have two bankroll targets: one offline {perhaps $2,000 into $20,000?} and one online {if I am masochistic I might again attempt $100 into $10,000}).
In closing, I would like to reiterate that for all the hard study and pleasant results, I am the first to admit that a large portion of the outcome hinges on none other than Lady Luck. The real test of character and ability will occur when Lady Luck leaves my side, and I go through a brutal losing spell.
If—and only if—I can pull through that, then I will know that I have become a real player.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
LATEsummer’s Night Dream (2 of 4)
As you may recall, the purpose of PokerScars was for the three of us (yes—do recall that at one point not so many months back, I had two partners in crime {or, at least, if you follow the statues, crime in some states}) to elevate our skills and to some day participate in the World Series of Poker (“WSOP”). Alas, my amigos have shuffled off, but here remains the stubborn Badger.
And as it so happens, the Badger was slated to be in Sin City over the 4th of July weekend, for a buddy’s 40th Birthday party—wives, believe it or not, in tow.
The Badger considers himself a beginner-intermediate player (confirmed by reading accounts in CardPlayer of pros three-raising from the Button with hands like 5,6s—I just ain’t quite making that play yet!)
That said, per my prior posting, I was runnin’ pretty good in Vegas, and had some extra cash on hand—what better to do than squander it on a WSOP super-satellite?
My buddy Geoff and I headed over to the Rio, arriving at 2:55 p.m. for the 3 p.m. super-satellite to the big dance. I was promptly told that as I am not a US citizen, I would need a passport to participate. Badger was perplexed, frustrated, and distraught: in a word, on tilt. Luckily, a Harrah’s manager took pity upon the poor (in every sense of the word) Badger. I was registered—my card, which I still have, reads “3:29 p.m.”
By the time I waddled to the Amazon room and checked in to one table, and waited for a seat assignment, it was 3:55 p.m. Needless to say, I had already been blinded down significantly (this was a turbo format tournament).
I was infinitely naïve to think that this would be like my local tourneys in Palm Springs or the Okanagan, where I could waltz in two minutes before cards hit the air, and play.
I sat down with my already-compromised stack and watched the action: there were two aggressive players that seemed to know what they were doing. They did indeed. Within about 10 hands, three of the others at the table had been unceremoniously dispatched. I continued to garner only rags, but was continuing to blind down, so I made a few desperate late-position bluffs. Pfew, no callers.
Perhaps an hour into the tourney, the first break occurred. As I was being helped to my next table, I was informed that half the field had already perished—and I had yet to win a sizable pot.
After the break, the blinds were wrenched higher yet again (these Harrah’s folks really did seem in a rush to end the satellite).
I sat tight, waiting for something, anything I could make a play with. Finally, in the BB, I looked down and saw an Ace-Deuce—my first ace in an hour. I had no illusion about its strength—serious kicker trouble, to be certain!—but, with only about 6 big blinds, I was desperate. A player in middle-position raised to about 4x the big blind. The rest of the players folded around to me.
It was unlikely that a player in middle position would bluff. So he presumably had one of two hands: a pocket pair or a big ace. If it was the former, I would have a chance to catch an ace and double-up. If it was the later, the Badger would be a big, big dog. I held my nose (figuratively) and pushed. He snap-called and turned over A-Jo. While an Ace did hit the board, his Jack kicker held up. Badger was bounced somewhere around the 40th percentile: nothing to be proud of, but not a complete disaster.
Take-aways?
1. (Especially in turbo format tourneys): Get even more aggressive, even earlier—even when card-dead.
2. Next time around: attempt to win a seat by 1-table satellite. I think I am better at that type of format. But I’ll let you know in about 10 months!
3. Arrive on time for poker tourneys--despite what the Poker Brat says, the Poker Gods frown upon dilatory players!!
And as it so happens, the Badger was slated to be in Sin City over the 4th of July weekend, for a buddy’s 40th Birthday party—wives, believe it or not, in tow.
The Badger considers himself a beginner-intermediate player (confirmed by reading accounts in CardPlayer of pros three-raising from the Button with hands like 5,6s—I just ain’t quite making that play yet!)
That said, per my prior posting, I was runnin’ pretty good in Vegas, and had some extra cash on hand—what better to do than squander it on a WSOP super-satellite?
My buddy Geoff and I headed over to the Rio, arriving at 2:55 p.m. for the 3 p.m. super-satellite to the big dance. I was promptly told that as I am not a US citizen, I would need a passport to participate. Badger was perplexed, frustrated, and distraught: in a word, on tilt. Luckily, a Harrah’s manager took pity upon the poor (in every sense of the word) Badger. I was registered—my card, which I still have, reads “3:29 p.m.”
By the time I waddled to the Amazon room and checked in to one table, and waited for a seat assignment, it was 3:55 p.m. Needless to say, I had already been blinded down significantly (this was a turbo format tournament).
I was infinitely naïve to think that this would be like my local tourneys in Palm Springs or the Okanagan, where I could waltz in two minutes before cards hit the air, and play.
I sat down with my already-compromised stack and watched the action: there were two aggressive players that seemed to know what they were doing. They did indeed. Within about 10 hands, three of the others at the table had been unceremoniously dispatched. I continued to garner only rags, but was continuing to blind down, so I made a few desperate late-position bluffs. Pfew, no callers.
Perhaps an hour into the tourney, the first break occurred. As I was being helped to my next table, I was informed that half the field had already perished—and I had yet to win a sizable pot.
After the break, the blinds were wrenched higher yet again (these Harrah’s folks really did seem in a rush to end the satellite).
I sat tight, waiting for something, anything I could make a play with. Finally, in the BB, I looked down and saw an Ace-Deuce—my first ace in an hour. I had no illusion about its strength—serious kicker trouble, to be certain!—but, with only about 6 big blinds, I was desperate. A player in middle-position raised to about 4x the big blind. The rest of the players folded around to me.
It was unlikely that a player in middle position would bluff. So he presumably had one of two hands: a pocket pair or a big ace. If it was the former, I would have a chance to catch an ace and double-up. If it was the later, the Badger would be a big, big dog. I held my nose (figuratively) and pushed. He snap-called and turned over A-Jo. While an Ace did hit the board, his Jack kicker held up. Badger was bounced somewhere around the 40th percentile: nothing to be proud of, but not a complete disaster.
Take-aways?
1. (Especially in turbo format tourneys): Get even more aggressive, even earlier—even when card-dead.
2. Next time around: attempt to win a seat by 1-table satellite. I think I am better at that type of format. But I’ll let you know in about 10 months!
3. Arrive on time for poker tourneys--despite what the Poker Brat says, the Poker Gods frown upon dilatory players!!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Badger's Midsummer Night's Dream (1 of 4--Vegas cash games)
I shall begin by chastising myself for the absence--it's not as if I haven't been playing poker (but just than I have been too lazy to blog!)
I headed back to Vegas for 10 days at the end of June. The reason for the trip was my buddy's 40th birthday. We had a lot of great meals and some big nights out, but I still managed to log a lot of hours at the tables.
This was my first materially lucrative trip to Vegas--I ended up $600 to the good. While that is a nice sum, it of course pales in comparison to my spending away from the table.
A very interesting (and in retrospect, painfully obvious) revelation ensued: my play is getting to the stage that it is quite profitable when sober--and quite unprofitable when I'm in party-mode ("any two cards, let's see a flop baby!").
My swings in Vegas were massive, and revealed near-perfect correlation: over my first few days, before the bulk of the gang showed up, I was making great money--anywhere from $20-100 an hour (and this was at $1/$3 tables!!!)
All Hell broke loose (as did my play) over the weekend. I pissed away my profits from the previous days--and more! One night I played until 2:30 pm the next afternoon. Don't even ask.
In the final trimester of my trip, after the gang had left and I was left entirely to my own devices, I had another massive, sober run. Tight-aggressive. Pot-odds-oriented. Very positional. In short, very by-the-(Sklansky/Harrington)-book.
I was able to end erase the weekend's stupidity and end up +$600, thanks to a $1,000+ run in those past 48-hours, for an insane hourly rate (clearly, I wasn't playing the full 48 hours). Now, I will be the first to admit that there is a big component of luck in the magnitude of the results but not, I feel, in the direction.
In fact, the session that I am most proud of (and, quite possibly a real turning point in my evolution as a player) was proving to be insanely, unapologetically brutal. I was felted twice (a fairly rare occurrence, as I am quite a tight player, and rarely get all-in as the dog), and in rapid succession.
The first occurred when I was dealt pocket kings. I got all-in on a benign flop (no Ace, no made straights or flushes). Perusing these back (electronic) pages, I am starting to fear that I have misplayed cowboys more frequently than any other player in the history of the game. Anyway, when we get all-in on the flop, we show our cards. He has bullets. Needless to say, they hold up.
"That's fine," I say. "Great hand. Heck, I'm just surprised we didn't get all-in before the flop."
I re-buy and a dozen hands later am dealt 10,10. I put in a healthy raise and get 2 pre-flop callers. The board comes 10,6,6--two hearts. I hear Doyle whispering to me "you have the deck crippled--you have to give them a chance to catch up." I check the flop. So do the others. I am praying for a heart or an Ace so that someone possibly chasing gets hit. The turn is a blank. I throw a couple bucks into the pot--simply to build it, not to scare anyone away. Finally, the heart comes on the river. The gent to my right makes a pot-sized bet. My only decision is whether to min-raise or push. I min-raise, figuring that he will have to call--and that the pair on the board will dissuade him from calling an all-in bet (he is a tightish, competent player).
And then I salivate as the gent to my left pushes. The poor sap on my right folds. I snap-call, and am treated to the spirit-crushing sight of my opponent's 6,6. Not even a Badger can sniff out quads! He'd flopped a behemoth to my monster, a King Kong to my sasquatch. And all the while I was slow-playing him, he was slow-playing me.
But this is not a bad-beat story. This is a story of redemption. I sat out two or three hands, and then got right back in there. I won a lot of small pots and a few big ones. And two hours later I finished the session. In the black. I thought (and still do) that it was the most amazing session of poker I've experienced. A few months earlier, I would have gone either full-bore tilt and emptied my pockets or (more likely) stormed away from that table. But I felt it was a table I could beat. And I felt that I had suffered two improbable beats in succession, and that it wasn't poor play.
I felt it was a massive victory to turn around what was one of the harshest sessions in my experience of the game. It has helped me suffer through subsequent bad beats. And it was good for the wallet!
More on Vegas--and my game up here in Canada--to follow soon!
I headed back to Vegas for 10 days at the end of June. The reason for the trip was my buddy's 40th birthday. We had a lot of great meals and some big nights out, but I still managed to log a lot of hours at the tables.
This was my first materially lucrative trip to Vegas--I ended up $600 to the good. While that is a nice sum, it of course pales in comparison to my spending away from the table.
A very interesting (and in retrospect, painfully obvious) revelation ensued: my play is getting to the stage that it is quite profitable when sober--and quite unprofitable when I'm in party-mode ("any two cards, let's see a flop baby!").
My swings in Vegas were massive, and revealed near-perfect correlation: over my first few days, before the bulk of the gang showed up, I was making great money--anywhere from $20-100 an hour (and this was at $1/$3 tables!!!)
All Hell broke loose (as did my play) over the weekend. I pissed away my profits from the previous days--and more! One night I played until 2:30 pm the next afternoon. Don't even ask.
In the final trimester of my trip, after the gang had left and I was left entirely to my own devices, I had another massive, sober run. Tight-aggressive. Pot-odds-oriented. Very positional. In short, very by-the-(Sklansky/Harrington)-book.
I was able to end erase the weekend's stupidity and end up +$600, thanks to a $1,000+ run in those past 48-hours, for an insane hourly rate (clearly, I wasn't playing the full 48 hours). Now, I will be the first to admit that there is a big component of luck in the magnitude of the results but not, I feel, in the direction.
In fact, the session that I am most proud of (and, quite possibly a real turning point in my evolution as a player) was proving to be insanely, unapologetically brutal. I was felted twice (a fairly rare occurrence, as I am quite a tight player, and rarely get all-in as the dog), and in rapid succession.
The first occurred when I was dealt pocket kings. I got all-in on a benign flop (no Ace, no made straights or flushes). Perusing these back (electronic) pages, I am starting to fear that I have misplayed cowboys more frequently than any other player in the history of the game. Anyway, when we get all-in on the flop, we show our cards. He has bullets. Needless to say, they hold up.
"That's fine," I say. "Great hand. Heck, I'm just surprised we didn't get all-in before the flop."
I re-buy and a dozen hands later am dealt 10,10. I put in a healthy raise and get 2 pre-flop callers. The board comes 10,6,6--two hearts. I hear Doyle whispering to me "you have the deck crippled--you have to give them a chance to catch up." I check the flop. So do the others. I am praying for a heart or an Ace so that someone possibly chasing gets hit. The turn is a blank. I throw a couple bucks into the pot--simply to build it, not to scare anyone away. Finally, the heart comes on the river. The gent to my right makes a pot-sized bet. My only decision is whether to min-raise or push. I min-raise, figuring that he will have to call--and that the pair on the board will dissuade him from calling an all-in bet (he is a tightish, competent player).
And then I salivate as the gent to my left pushes. The poor sap on my right folds. I snap-call, and am treated to the spirit-crushing sight of my opponent's 6,6. Not even a Badger can sniff out quads! He'd flopped a behemoth to my monster, a King Kong to my sasquatch. And all the while I was slow-playing him, he was slow-playing me.
But this is not a bad-beat story. This is a story of redemption. I sat out two or three hands, and then got right back in there. I won a lot of small pots and a few big ones. And two hours later I finished the session. In the black. I thought (and still do) that it was the most amazing session of poker I've experienced. A few months earlier, I would have gone either full-bore tilt and emptied my pockets or (more likely) stormed away from that table. But I felt it was a table I could beat. And I felt that I had suffered two improbable beats in succession, and that it wasn't poor play.
I felt it was a massive victory to turn around what was one of the harshest sessions in my experience of the game. It has helped me suffer through subsequent bad beats. And it was good for the wallet!
More on Vegas--and my game up here in Canada--to follow soon!
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Cowboys Cracked
I'm currently in Vancouver. Last night my buddy dropped me off at the casino for two hours while he caught drinks with some folks.
I wanted to play some leisurely live poker and didn't really expect to accomplish much in two-hour session. The $1/2 NL tables were full; I grudgingly accepted a $2/5 game.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that the $2/5 table to which I was assigned was very soft: I was able to draw outdraw a few folks and bluff a few others, grabbing a couple of nice pots, after which the table was gunshy of the Badger. I turned my $200 into $400 inside of an hour.
The staff then moved me to the main table. My $400 dwindled to $300 when I raised to $20 from middle position with AQ. The table folded around to the big blind who min-raised me. Now, a min-raise is always suspicious: it seemed he wanted a call. Given the 3:1 odds, I most certainly did. When the flop came A 10 5 (two spades), I looked to be in good shape: if he had raised with a pair (say J,J), I was good. The only thing I was really scared of was an A,A or A,K.
The aggressor checked to me. I had a very good hand and certainly wasn't about to let any flush draws get there. I bet $60. The big blind re-raised me to $150. It was a tough one, but I laid down the A,Q: it was clear that a call was going to end up in an all-in situation, and I wasn't quite prepared to do that against an opponent who's shown so much strength pre-flop.
Fifteen minutes later, I was coasting along at $300 and my buddy was on his way to meet me. I was in 4th seat and Seat #1 had decided to straddle ("because it's my last hand," was his logic.) Seat 2 folded, seat 3 called the $10. I looked down. Cowboys: pocket Kings.
I knew I was getting close to my last hand as well. I was confident that I had the best starting hand at the table (with 95% certainty, probabilistically speaking). Now, how to play it? Raise now and take the measly $27 on the table? Or wait for one of the maniacs in the later seats to raise so that I could then re-raise. I opted for the latter, a Badger trap: I wanted to finish the night with a nice profit.
Seat #6, who was playing a little tiltish, went all-in for $163. Truly bizarre play, but music to my ears. Everyone folded to the straddler. He realized seat 6 was tiltish and, after some deliberation, called the all-in. There was now nearly $400 in the pot. The badger trap was playing out even better than I'd hoped (although I would rather face one than two opponents).
Pocket aces being improbable, I was concerned about one of the two holding A-K or something of that ilk. I knew that it would be tough to bet into the flop if an ace came. But I also knew it would be damn tough to lay down the KK if an A came and the straddler bet--especially with all that lucre on the felt. Finally, as I figured I had the best hand currently, I abided by the textbook: get your chips in when you are the favorite. "All in for another," gulp, "$170."
The straddler was by now quite concerned. "You've got me beat," he said. But still, he was getting tremendous odds to call (3:1). And call he did.
By now the entire table was abuzz: there was about $750 in the center of the table. And, very unusually, 3 players had ended up all-in, pre-flop!
I wanted to make it a little more exciting for the table (or perhaps I just wanted to gloat), so I flipped over my cowboys. There were a few gasps. After some goading on my part, seat 6 showed his cards: A-Q off-suit (what was he thinking?!?) I was about a 70% favorite versus that hand--pretty much anything but an ace on any of the five streets and I'd win.
The straddler, presumably embarrassed by his hand, kept it concealed.
The dealer strangely, yet prophetically intoned, "flop's coming low." Indeed it did: 4, 5, 7--three different suits. I had no idea what the straddler had, but I knew I was looking good. Trying to cheer up the A-Q, I said: "you could hit a low straight."
Turn: Jack. I was still good, unless the straddler's concealed cards were "fishhooks."
I was dying. I spied my buddy entering the casino. The entire table was standing and kibitzing, studying our stressed faces and the bizarre board.
River: 6 of hearts.
"Oh, my god!" the straddler cries out, turning over pocket-8s. "I can't believe I hit the straight on the river. Sorry man!"
And I do believe he was: KK vs. 88 is about an 80% favorite. Even if the crazy dude with the A-Q caught his ace and won the main pot, THE SIDE POT WAS MINE. Until it wasn't, which was the river of course.
I can try and take solace in Sklansky's maxim, that in the aggregate I did win that hand: in the grand scheme of my poker life, that that exact sequence of events will turn out to the good for me. That in the very long term, I will be ahead.
But for all the math, logic and "should have's" in the world all I can say is this: It would have been damn nice for my wallet to be $750 heavier today. Almost as nice as the Canucks winning game 5 of the division finals tonight. The Lords of Probability owe me that, at the very least. Don't they?
-Badger
I wanted to play some leisurely live poker and didn't really expect to accomplish much in two-hour session. The $1/2 NL tables were full; I grudgingly accepted a $2/5 game.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that the $2/5 table to which I was assigned was very soft: I was able to draw outdraw a few folks and bluff a few others, grabbing a couple of nice pots, after which the table was gunshy of the Badger. I turned my $200 into $400 inside of an hour.
The staff then moved me to the main table. My $400 dwindled to $300 when I raised to $20 from middle position with AQ. The table folded around to the big blind who min-raised me. Now, a min-raise is always suspicious: it seemed he wanted a call. Given the 3:1 odds, I most certainly did. When the flop came A 10 5 (two spades), I looked to be in good shape: if he had raised with a pair (say J,J), I was good. The only thing I was really scared of was an A,A or A,K.
The aggressor checked to me. I had a very good hand and certainly wasn't about to let any flush draws get there. I bet $60. The big blind re-raised me to $150. It was a tough one, but I laid down the A,Q: it was clear that a call was going to end up in an all-in situation, and I wasn't quite prepared to do that against an opponent who's shown so much strength pre-flop.
Fifteen minutes later, I was coasting along at $300 and my buddy was on his way to meet me. I was in 4th seat and Seat #1 had decided to straddle ("because it's my last hand," was his logic.) Seat 2 folded, seat 3 called the $10. I looked down. Cowboys: pocket Kings.
I knew I was getting close to my last hand as well. I was confident that I had the best starting hand at the table (with 95% certainty, probabilistically speaking). Now, how to play it? Raise now and take the measly $27 on the table? Or wait for one of the maniacs in the later seats to raise so that I could then re-raise. I opted for the latter, a Badger trap: I wanted to finish the night with a nice profit.
Seat #6, who was playing a little tiltish, went all-in for $163. Truly bizarre play, but music to my ears. Everyone folded to the straddler. He realized seat 6 was tiltish and, after some deliberation, called the all-in. There was now nearly $400 in the pot. The badger trap was playing out even better than I'd hoped (although I would rather face one than two opponents).
Pocket aces being improbable, I was concerned about one of the two holding A-K or something of that ilk. I knew that it would be tough to bet into the flop if an ace came. But I also knew it would be damn tough to lay down the KK if an A came and the straddler bet--especially with all that lucre on the felt. Finally, as I figured I had the best hand currently, I abided by the textbook: get your chips in when you are the favorite. "All in for another," gulp, "$170."
The straddler was by now quite concerned. "You've got me beat," he said. But still, he was getting tremendous odds to call (3:1). And call he did.
By now the entire table was abuzz: there was about $750 in the center of the table. And, very unusually, 3 players had ended up all-in, pre-flop!
I wanted to make it a little more exciting for the table (or perhaps I just wanted to gloat), so I flipped over my cowboys. There were a few gasps. After some goading on my part, seat 6 showed his cards: A-Q off-suit (what was he thinking?!?) I was about a 70% favorite versus that hand--pretty much anything but an ace on any of the five streets and I'd win.
The straddler, presumably embarrassed by his hand, kept it concealed.
The dealer strangely, yet prophetically intoned, "flop's coming low." Indeed it did: 4, 5, 7--three different suits. I had no idea what the straddler had, but I knew I was looking good. Trying to cheer up the A-Q, I said: "you could hit a low straight."
Turn: Jack. I was still good, unless the straddler's concealed cards were "fishhooks."
I was dying. I spied my buddy entering the casino. The entire table was standing and kibitzing, studying our stressed faces and the bizarre board.
River: 6 of hearts.
"Oh, my god!" the straddler cries out, turning over pocket-8s. "I can't believe I hit the straight on the river. Sorry man!"
And I do believe he was: KK vs. 88 is about an 80% favorite. Even if the crazy dude with the A-Q caught his ace and won the main pot, THE SIDE POT WAS MINE. Until it wasn't, which was the river of course.
I can try and take solace in Sklansky's maxim, that in the aggregate I did win that hand: in the grand scheme of my poker life, that that exact sequence of events will turn out to the good for me. That in the very long term, I will be ahead.
But for all the math, logic and "should have's" in the world all I can say is this: It would have been damn nice for my wallet to be $750 heavier today. Almost as nice as the Canucks winning game 5 of the division finals tonight. The Lords of Probability owe me that, at the very least. Don't they?
-Badger
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Brunson & The Badger (Well, sort of...)
Now that I am "home" (not really certain what that means to a vagabond Badger, but at least I will be staying put for a few weeks), I wanted to share an episode from my trip to Vegas a few weeks back.
It was my first night playing at the Bellagio, and I was waiting for a spot at a table. I took a look around the massive room and there, towards the back, was a separate room. It held only one table and, as I glanced in it's direction, I recognized a couple famous faces: John Juanda and....even more impressively, the man himself: Doyle Brunson.
I was promptly seated by the uber-friendly staff, and my attention turned from the man who wrote the book (quite literally), who was quite possibly playing $400/$800 no-limit to my paltry $1/$3 game.
A couple of nights later, I was back at the Bellagio. I'd stepped it up to a whoppin' $2/$5 game. And when I was seated I was shocked to find myself at the closest seat facing the open door of Bobby's Room. And directly in front of me (perhaps 10-15 yards away), Texas Dolly himself was playing. I was almost close enough to count his chips--although I assure you, they were of a very different color than my own!
As I settled into my game, I focused on my own cards and all but forgot about the big dogs in the next room. That is, until I was dealt a suited 10-2 (Doyle won the WSOP twice with the old ten-deuce; the hand is in fact named in his honor).
It was a full table and I was in early position. An easy fold. But on the other hand...I had the Brunson, and there was the man himself in front of me! I looked at my cards again, and finally mucked. I would like to think that Doyle would have understood.
Back to my online game: I finished March at a paltry $128.15; showing a whopping profit of about $30 for the quarter. If I keep this up, I should be able to reach $10,000...by the end of the year 2109! The good news is that I am not losing money. The bad news is that I am way, way off the game I need to be playing to even have a hope of hitting the $10,000 mark. But that won't stop me from trying! Anyway, back to the tables...
It was my first night playing at the Bellagio, and I was waiting for a spot at a table. I took a look around the massive room and there, towards the back, was a separate room. It held only one table and, as I glanced in it's direction, I recognized a couple famous faces: John Juanda and....even more impressively, the man himself: Doyle Brunson.
I was promptly seated by the uber-friendly staff, and my attention turned from the man who wrote the book (quite literally), who was quite possibly playing $400/$800 no-limit to my paltry $1/$3 game.
A couple of nights later, I was back at the Bellagio. I'd stepped it up to a whoppin' $2/$5 game. And when I was seated I was shocked to find myself at the closest seat facing the open door of Bobby's Room. And directly in front of me (perhaps 10-15 yards away), Texas Dolly himself was playing. I was almost close enough to count his chips--although I assure you, they were of a very different color than my own!
As I settled into my game, I focused on my own cards and all but forgot about the big dogs in the next room. That is, until I was dealt a suited 10-2 (Doyle won the WSOP twice with the old ten-deuce; the hand is in fact named in his honor).
It was a full table and I was in early position. An easy fold. But on the other hand...I had the Brunson, and there was the man himself in front of me! I looked at my cards again, and finally mucked. I would like to think that Doyle would have understood.
Back to my online game: I finished March at a paltry $128.15; showing a whopping profit of about $30 for the quarter. If I keep this up, I should be able to reach $10,000...by the end of the year 2109! The good news is that I am not losing money. The bad news is that I am way, way off the game I need to be playing to even have a hope of hitting the $10,000 mark. But that won't stop me from trying! Anyway, back to the tables...
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Badger at the Bellagio
I spent the bulk of last week in Vegas; we stayed at the Bellagio, which is definitely up there with the Wynn for my favorite casino.
I ended up playing between 3-6 hours for the 4 days we were there. I started off quite well, consistently winning (albeit modest amounts) at $1/$3 and $2/$5 no-limit tables, at the Bellagio and Madalay Bay.
I suffered a serious setback, however in a game at the Wynn. It was a good, tough table with a lot of all-in action--surprisingly strong for a $1/$3 table.
There was a (not famous) pro from L.A. at the far end of the table who won a nearly-$1,000 pot when he pushed the kid beside me all-in. The kid turned over KK. The pro had an open-ended straight: 8 outs, two times. And he'd pushed the kid all-in! Well you can guess what happened next: the pro rivered the straight, and the kid went ballistic, splashing his chips all over the table. The floor manager had to be called over, and it took a good 10 minutes until we were playing again.
Once we got going, it was my turn for a whole lotta' fun. I had about $180 and was in middle position. I looked down and saw pocket QQ--my nemisis--queens always seem to be a disaster for me! There was a straddle on, so it was $6 to call. But I wasn't going to call: I bet the pot, making it $20 to go. To my surprise, I had two callers in late position--including the pro.
The flop came 7,8,10--a rainbow. A straight was possible, but would be fairly unusual for someone to call a big raise with a 6,9 or a 9,J. That said, I wasn't going to sit around and let my two opponents draw out on me. The pot was now about $80, and I was first to act. I bet $60. The first opponent folded. So far, so good. The pro looks at me. "How much you got back there?" I tell him I have $100 remaining, figuring he is trying to intimidate me. But Badger will most certainly not be knocked off his overpair.
"I put you all-in," he declares.
I ponder his push: I had seen him make a semi-bluff all-in before. If he was drawing to the straight, I was a definitive favorite. Then I looked at the odds: I was having to put $100 into a $240 pot: nearly 2:7 odds.
I call. Since I am all-in, I turn over the queens. And he, you guessed, it turns over the nuts: 9,J!
That was the start of a mini-Vegas slump for me. I had a poor session later that evening, but then the next--and final--night I had a good, late $2/$5 session at the Bellagio, which put me back in black for the trip.
Overall, it was a great experience. I "graduated" to the $2/$5 game, which I find a lot more fun: the $1/$3's tend to have a couple players at each table who really don't know what they are doing--it doesn't feel great winning money from them. And there are so many small pots. But at a $2/$5, even the modest pots have my full attention!
Looking back, I am not certain whether to look at the experience as very cheap entertainment (with free drinks!)...or as sweat-shop wages (about $2/hour). I suppose I'll have to tell you next time I get back from Vegas!
I ended up playing between 3-6 hours for the 4 days we were there. I started off quite well, consistently winning (albeit modest amounts) at $1/$3 and $2/$5 no-limit tables, at the Bellagio and Madalay Bay.
I suffered a serious setback, however in a game at the Wynn. It was a good, tough table with a lot of all-in action--surprisingly strong for a $1/$3 table.
There was a (not famous) pro from L.A. at the far end of the table who won a nearly-$1,000 pot when he pushed the kid beside me all-in. The kid turned over KK. The pro had an open-ended straight: 8 outs, two times. And he'd pushed the kid all-in! Well you can guess what happened next: the pro rivered the straight, and the kid went ballistic, splashing his chips all over the table. The floor manager had to be called over, and it took a good 10 minutes until we were playing again.
Once we got going, it was my turn for a whole lotta' fun. I had about $180 and was in middle position. I looked down and saw pocket QQ--my nemisis--queens always seem to be a disaster for me! There was a straddle on, so it was $6 to call. But I wasn't going to call: I bet the pot, making it $20 to go. To my surprise, I had two callers in late position--including the pro.
The flop came 7,8,10--a rainbow. A straight was possible, but would be fairly unusual for someone to call a big raise with a 6,9 or a 9,J. That said, I wasn't going to sit around and let my two opponents draw out on me. The pot was now about $80, and I was first to act. I bet $60. The first opponent folded. So far, so good. The pro looks at me. "How much you got back there?" I tell him I have $100 remaining, figuring he is trying to intimidate me. But Badger will most certainly not be knocked off his overpair.
"I put you all-in," he declares.
I ponder his push: I had seen him make a semi-bluff all-in before. If he was drawing to the straight, I was a definitive favorite. Then I looked at the odds: I was having to put $100 into a $240 pot: nearly 2:7 odds.
I call. Since I am all-in, I turn over the queens. And he, you guessed, it turns over the nuts: 9,J!
That was the start of a mini-Vegas slump for me. I had a poor session later that evening, but then the next--and final--night I had a good, late $2/$5 session at the Bellagio, which put me back in black for the trip.
Overall, it was a great experience. I "graduated" to the $2/$5 game, which I find a lot more fun: the $1/$3's tend to have a couple players at each table who really don't know what they are doing--it doesn't feel great winning money from them. And there are so many small pots. But at a $2/$5, even the modest pots have my full attention!
Looking back, I am not certain whether to look at the experience as very cheap entertainment (with free drinks!)...or as sweat-shop wages (about $2/hour). I suppose I'll have to tell you next time I get back from Vegas!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Badger: March Meekness
Well, I've been back in North America for a couple weeks, and have been playing online more frequently--to sadly very mixed results.
My low-stakes cash games are going well, but my tourneys (generally 1-table sit-n-gos) have been far less successful. In terms of making $, I should be sticking to the cash games, but I am a stubborn badger who genuinely loves the competitive elements of tourneys. Tourneys seem to be where my heart lies. But, alas (not yet) my talent.
In an effort to improve my tourney play, I have been spending some time with the FullTilt tourney guide. It is far better than I expected--on par with Harrington (and them's some big boots to fill). In a nutshell, gents like "Jesus" Ferguson and Howard Lederer focus a lot more on NOT limping into pots and disguising your play. This echoes advice that both Herr and D'bag have given me (especially about not limping into pots). I now realize that even in cash games, I have done a poor job at disguising the strength of my hands--both my starting hand and the extent to which the flop hit/missed me.
I have been playing this way for the last couple days--basically not allowing myself to limp in, unless someone has before me, as well as disguising my hands. I don't know if I fully agree with the no-limp rule (what if you have, say, A-4? J-10? I am not inclined to raise with these types of hands...but on the other hand, I am not thrilled about throwing them away).
Bottom line, I am learning to raise more--and to limp far less. Another leak in my (especially tourney) game is that I probably have not been aggressive enough with my mid-pocket pairs (say 6,6 through 10,10). Heads-up, these are great hands; and if I let too many callers in against them, I am doomed to defeat--except in the unlikely event (1:7.5) that I hit a set on the flop. So I am pushing these (pocket pairs) harder now. Deep down, I know that a 5-5 is favored against A-K...I just seem to have had trouble playing on that basis!
In the two weeks that I've been back, I have cycled between the low-$100s and the mid-$100s. A pretty meek range, but at least I am holding my own. The strange thing is that I have made a total (profit) of about $350 in my two brief appearances at the local casino. Granted, I had some cards. But this just gives me more cause to think I am a better cash player than tourney player.
Anyhoo, I am disappointed to report a meek balance of $113.03 (I should really go back to cash game and build it up).
On a brighter note, I am off to Vegas tomorrow. I anticipate playing a fair amount of low-stakes cash games (few, if any tourneys 'til I get my game in gear). Wish me luck--I probably need it!
My low-stakes cash games are going well, but my tourneys (generally 1-table sit-n-gos) have been far less successful. In terms of making $, I should be sticking to the cash games, but I am a stubborn badger who genuinely loves the competitive elements of tourneys. Tourneys seem to be where my heart lies. But, alas (not yet) my talent.
In an effort to improve my tourney play, I have been spending some time with the FullTilt tourney guide. It is far better than I expected--on par with Harrington (and them's some big boots to fill). In a nutshell, gents like "Jesus" Ferguson and Howard Lederer focus a lot more on NOT limping into pots and disguising your play. This echoes advice that both Herr and D'bag have given me (especially about not limping into pots). I now realize that even in cash games, I have done a poor job at disguising the strength of my hands--both my starting hand and the extent to which the flop hit/missed me.
I have been playing this way for the last couple days--basically not allowing myself to limp in, unless someone has before me, as well as disguising my hands. I don't know if I fully agree with the no-limp rule (what if you have, say, A-4? J-10? I am not inclined to raise with these types of hands...but on the other hand, I am not thrilled about throwing them away).
Bottom line, I am learning to raise more--and to limp far less. Another leak in my (especially tourney) game is that I probably have not been aggressive enough with my mid-pocket pairs (say 6,6 through 10,10). Heads-up, these are great hands; and if I let too many callers in against them, I am doomed to defeat--except in the unlikely event (1:7.5) that I hit a set on the flop. So I am pushing these (pocket pairs) harder now. Deep down, I know that a 5-5 is favored against A-K...I just seem to have had trouble playing on that basis!
In the two weeks that I've been back, I have cycled between the low-$100s and the mid-$100s. A pretty meek range, but at least I am holding my own. The strange thing is that I have made a total (profit) of about $350 in my two brief appearances at the local casino. Granted, I had some cards. But this just gives me more cause to think I am a better cash player than tourney player.
Anyhoo, I am disappointed to report a meek balance of $113.03 (I should really go back to cash game and build it up).
On a brighter note, I am off to Vegas tomorrow. I anticipate playing a fair amount of low-stakes cash games (few, if any tourneys 'til I get my game in gear). Wish me luck--I probably need it!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
The weekend amateurs
Armed with a new 23'' widescreen monitor hooked up to my laptop, I set out to take advantage of all the weekend players. I now have plenty of room for 8 tables or more, though I seem to struggle with more than 5 sit-n-gos at a time when we get shorthanded and the action intense. Pokerstars normally see about 160,000 players at peaktimes during the weekdays, but on weekends they push 250,000. Most of these extra players are losing players.
I managed about 60 $20 SNGs over Saturday and Sunday, and mainly because I went 12-3 in headsup matches I saw my balance grow from $737.37 to $989.37 though I did peak at $1063 before I have to admit fatigue set in. I also had a significant number of 4th places but I think they are the price of going for the win. Overall it seems like I have gotten nowhere really since I was originally boomswitched a few weeks ago though I hope I have learned several lessons that will prevent me from going on as brutal a downswing again. Wishful thinking probably.
Apart from having by far the most online players and making some serious coin that way, PokerStars probably have the worst deals for their players - mainly because they don't offer rakeback. Rakeback might sound like a small thing, but it really adds up. Looking at my spreadsheet for this challenge, in the span I have gone from $100 to $1000 I have paid $1073 in buy-in fees for SNGs. Essentially, while I have done well to grow my roll 900%, PokerStars still made more off me than I did off them! These numbers would be ugly with equally busy but losing player. With a standard 30% rakeback deal my balance would be $300 higher. Instead I have gathered a silly amount of PokerStars points that I can trade in for mainly crap.
So far I can get 4 cookie baskets, a DVD player, 18 Pokerstars T-shirts or 4 'Harrington on Hold'em' in either Italian or German. However if I get 2,988,000 more points I get a Porsche Cayman S. Combined with one of the worst bonus offers going, they really are taking the piss. I guess you can when you have 250,000 players though...
I managed about 60 $20 SNGs over Saturday and Sunday, and mainly because I went 12-3 in headsup matches I saw my balance grow from $737.37 to $989.37 though I did peak at $1063 before I have to admit fatigue set in. I also had a significant number of 4th places but I think they are the price of going for the win. Overall it seems like I have gotten nowhere really since I was originally boomswitched a few weeks ago though I hope I have learned several lessons that will prevent me from going on as brutal a downswing again. Wishful thinking probably.
Apart from having by far the most online players and making some serious coin that way, PokerStars probably have the worst deals for their players - mainly because they don't offer rakeback. Rakeback might sound like a small thing, but it really adds up. Looking at my spreadsheet for this challenge, in the span I have gone from $100 to $1000 I have paid $1073 in buy-in fees for SNGs. Essentially, while I have done well to grow my roll 900%, PokerStars still made more off me than I did off them! These numbers would be ugly with equally busy but losing player. With a standard 30% rakeback deal my balance would be $300 higher. Instead I have gathered a silly amount of PokerStars points that I can trade in for mainly crap.
So far I can get 4 cookie baskets, a DVD player, 18 Pokerstars T-shirts or 4 'Harrington on Hold'em' in either Italian or German. However if I get 2,988,000 more points I get a Porsche Cayman S. Combined with one of the worst bonus offers going, they really are taking the piss. I guess you can when you have 250,000 players though...
Friday, February 13, 2009
V: Sign of the devil...or is it?
Gentlemen, this much we can agree on: Despite the mark of the Beast everywhere, Jesus loves me the best.
While tweaking my smallball strategy in the micro-games, the devil pays a most unwelcome visit as I manage to run headlong into 666 not once but twice. Twice! Granted, I could have believed either or both of them when they refused to bend to my hammering the pots on the strength of top pair, but still, truly, we are a cursed people.
The first appearance of the Devil leaves me with about 2200 chips, or 1/2 my stack, and blinds at 25/50. Not great, clearly, but ok. His second appearance, though, is beyond crippling: Blinds are 100/200, and that's me in the big blind all-in with my remaining 125 chips. On the bubble no less, which makes it even more humiliating.
So...all-in with my 125 chips ... sadly they are riding on 54os ... which, when my 5 pairs, is good enough to beat the AJ and A4 callers. I am tripled up to 375.
Oh, but I think we all know where this is going.
Next hand: KQos. All in, of course. Mr. Second 666, the guy with all my chips, calls with pure rags - - either as an act of arrogance or charity, hard to say - and I doubled up again when my K pairs.
Two hands later: 44. All in, of course. Now determined to take me out, Mr. Second 666 calls me with Q6s. This time his 6 cannot summon any brethren at all, my pair holds up, and I am back in the blinds-stealing business with about 2000 chips.
A few more legitimate hands in which I am not only the favorite but my cards stand up, and I'm in the money.
Three handed - me against both Devils. While I should feel beleagured, I am actually quite smug. I am the goddamn chip leader and am having great fun cherry picking the blinds. I have more than a bit of trouble when my 22 runs into First Devil's 77, but I stay the aggressor despite losing chip lead: it's steal, steal, steal until I have the enormous satisfaction of taking out Mr. Second 666 when he himself tries a steal with an unfortunate 96os, and me sitting on JJ. Get thee behind me, Satan, and onto the rail, muthafucka.
HU bodes ill, as First Devil, as the 2:1 chip leader, is putting the pressure on me with heavy raises each time I call from the SB. I figure I have long exhausted any borrowed time anyway, so make good on my promise to him to start gambling. All in with A7, he calls with AQ ... Jesus, of course, sends a 7 my way, and the worm, as they say, has turned. On the next hand, my pimpslap of a reraise his attempted blind steal takes the wind and about 1600 more chips out of him out him, and two hands later I put paid to First Devil when I call his T6 all-in with J9 and the board misses us both.
From 125 to first place. Take a moment to savor it. The 13 bucks didn't do wonders for my bankroll, but we play this game for other reasons as well.
A chip, chair, and a tiny bit of intervention by Haysoo Christos himself: all a boy needs.
While tweaking my smallball strategy in the micro-games, the devil pays a most unwelcome visit as I manage to run headlong into 666 not once but twice. Twice! Granted, I could have believed either or both of them when they refused to bend to my hammering the pots on the strength of top pair, but still, truly, we are a cursed people.
The first appearance of the Devil leaves me with about 2200 chips, or 1/2 my stack, and blinds at 25/50. Not great, clearly, but ok. His second appearance, though, is beyond crippling: Blinds are 100/200, and that's me in the big blind all-in with my remaining 125 chips. On the bubble no less, which makes it even more humiliating.
So...all-in with my 125 chips ... sadly they are riding on 54os ... which, when my 5 pairs, is good enough to beat the AJ and A4 callers. I am tripled up to 375.
Oh, but I think we all know where this is going.
Next hand: KQos. All in, of course. Mr. Second 666, the guy with all my chips, calls with pure rags - - either as an act of arrogance or charity, hard to say - and I doubled up again when my K pairs.
Two hands later: 44. All in, of course. Now determined to take me out, Mr. Second 666 calls me with Q6s. This time his 6 cannot summon any brethren at all, my pair holds up, and I am back in the blinds-stealing business with about 2000 chips.
A few more legitimate hands in which I am not only the favorite but my cards stand up, and I'm in the money.
Three handed - me against both Devils. While I should feel beleagured, I am actually quite smug. I am the goddamn chip leader and am having great fun cherry picking the blinds. I have more than a bit of trouble when my 22 runs into First Devil's 77, but I stay the aggressor despite losing chip lead: it's steal, steal, steal until I have the enormous satisfaction of taking out Mr. Second 666 when he himself tries a steal with an unfortunate 96os, and me sitting on JJ. Get thee behind me, Satan, and onto the rail, muthafucka.
HU bodes ill, as First Devil, as the 2:1 chip leader, is putting the pressure on me with heavy raises each time I call from the SB. I figure I have long exhausted any borrowed time anyway, so make good on my promise to him to start gambling. All in with A7, he calls with AQ ... Jesus, of course, sends a 7 my way, and the worm, as they say, has turned. On the next hand, my pimpslap of a reraise his attempted blind steal takes the wind and about 1600 more chips out of him out him, and two hands later I put paid to First Devil when I call his T6 all-in with J9 and the board misses us both.
From 125 to first place. Take a moment to savor it. The 13 bucks didn't do wonders for my bankroll, but we play this game for other reasons as well.
A chip, chair, and a tiny bit of intervention by Haysoo Christos himself: all a boy needs.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
V: Mixing it up, or a sick joke about Daniel Negreanu
So I was playing online today -- having downshifted to $3 SNGs to keep the blood loss to a minimum while I try to regain my equilibrium -- and some baboon made a sick and pointless joke about Daniel Negreanu being killed in a head-on collision. A quick Google and Yahoo search of the subject yielded nothing, and a quick sharkscope of said baboon made it clear that, as baboons will, he was compensating for his lack of talent by acting out.
Nonetheless, it got me thinking about Daniel Negreanu and I searched him out on youtube, where I found a series of three instructional videos of his on -- what else? -- how to win at Hold Em. Here's the link to the first:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xeeozbb2_FQ&feature=PlayList&p=8A637CFF3C497E4F&index=0&playnext=1
In truth, these lessons are aimed at taking a strong player and making them pro, a profile I must concede that I don't fit, but they were very helpful, perhaps because they picked up on the "modest gains" approach that I stumbled on recently. In fact, playing "smallball" was the whole thrust of the lessons, but in a way that is very different from mine.
Negreanu says that beginners play "two card" poker -- that is, the lion share of the decision-making is done pre-flop. Pros, on the other hand, make the hard calls after the flop. He advised seeing many more hands combined with a strategy of savvy value betting and blind-stealing. This way, you confuse other players as to what you might have at any time, you can press a hand should you hit while keeping your losses small if you don't, and you trap other players when you do make a monster because they figure you can't catch something every flop.
So, given that my incredibly tight-but-aggressive play has been so feast or famine and typically much more famine, and given my itch to want to play more hands, I thought I'd give this a try.
I stuck to a few of Negreanu's principles:
(1) I played many more hands, especially with low blinds and in late position, and even more so if I could limp in or call for just 2xBB.
(2) From one or two off the button until the button, I would raise 3-4xBB if I had anything playable, and -- critically -- even if I had great starting cards. However, I only did this if there were no previous callers.
(3) If I raised, I followed up post-flop with a bet about 1/2 to 3/4 of the pot. I took down a surpringly large number of pots right then and there. If someone raised hard, I'd typically fold (when I failed to fold because I had a middling hand, disaster typically ensued). If I did flop a monster, though, I got paid big time.
I executed this the most consistently in the last SNG that I played today...and it worked! My stack grew steadily while for the most part I dodged disaster. I did have one terrible, TERRIBLE hand, where I raised preflop with A4os, the flop came A x x, and I went down to the river only to lose to A8. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This took me from 3500 to about 900 chips, with 50/100 blinds, so I wasn't happy at all with my boneheaded play. So much for mixing it up.
Nonetheless...I doubled-up soon after when I made a flush all in with JTh, and then I stuck to the program. And sure enough...1st place, having (semi-)stolen thousands of chips in blinds, picking up pots with value bets, and staying clear of disaster. Oh, and by trapping Mr. A8 to get my chips back with considerable interest: I had raised 4xBB preflop, he called, for about 1600 in the pot. I had 99 and the flop came 678, so I bet 1000, he raised, I went all in, and he called to show AT. A five came, then a ten (for sweet justice), and I was untouchably the big dog.
This strategy worked well three handed as well, though I folded some hands I might ordinarily have pushed, wanting the two shortstacks to cut each other's throats without me doubling them up. In the end, I not only had first, but I felt -- for a change -- that I had executed a strategy that worked and that suited my style.
I think I will stick in the laboratory of the micro-stakes for a bit while I try on this New-greanu suit of clothes. And I will watch those videos many times more.
Nonetheless, it got me thinking about Daniel Negreanu and I searched him out on youtube, where I found a series of three instructional videos of his on -- what else? -- how to win at Hold Em. Here's the link to the first:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xeeozbb2_FQ&feature=PlayList&p=8A637CFF3C497E4F&index=0&playnext=1
In truth, these lessons are aimed at taking a strong player and making them pro, a profile I must concede that I don't fit, but they were very helpful, perhaps because they picked up on the "modest gains" approach that I stumbled on recently. In fact, playing "smallball" was the whole thrust of the lessons, but in a way that is very different from mine.
Negreanu says that beginners play "two card" poker -- that is, the lion share of the decision-making is done pre-flop. Pros, on the other hand, make the hard calls after the flop. He advised seeing many more hands combined with a strategy of savvy value betting and blind-stealing. This way, you confuse other players as to what you might have at any time, you can press a hand should you hit while keeping your losses small if you don't, and you trap other players when you do make a monster because they figure you can't catch something every flop.
So, given that my incredibly tight-but-aggressive play has been so feast or famine and typically much more famine, and given my itch to want to play more hands, I thought I'd give this a try.
I stuck to a few of Negreanu's principles:
(1) I played many more hands, especially with low blinds and in late position, and even more so if I could limp in or call for just 2xBB.
(2) From one or two off the button until the button, I would raise 3-4xBB if I had anything playable, and -- critically -- even if I had great starting cards. However, I only did this if there were no previous callers.
(3) If I raised, I followed up post-flop with a bet about 1/2 to 3/4 of the pot. I took down a surpringly large number of pots right then and there. If someone raised hard, I'd typically fold (when I failed to fold because I had a middling hand, disaster typically ensued). If I did flop a monster, though, I got paid big time.
I executed this the most consistently in the last SNG that I played today...and it worked! My stack grew steadily while for the most part I dodged disaster. I did have one terrible, TERRIBLE hand, where I raised preflop with A4os, the flop came A x x, and I went down to the river only to lose to A8. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This took me from 3500 to about 900 chips, with 50/100 blinds, so I wasn't happy at all with my boneheaded play. So much for mixing it up.
Nonetheless...I doubled-up soon after when I made a flush all in with JTh, and then I stuck to the program. And sure enough...1st place, having (semi-)stolen thousands of chips in blinds, picking up pots with value bets, and staying clear of disaster. Oh, and by trapping Mr. A8 to get my chips back with considerable interest: I had raised 4xBB preflop, he called, for about 1600 in the pot. I had 99 and the flop came 678, so I bet 1000, he raised, I went all in, and he called to show AT. A five came, then a ten (for sweet justice), and I was untouchably the big dog.
This strategy worked well three handed as well, though I folded some hands I might ordinarily have pushed, wanting the two shortstacks to cut each other's throats without me doubling them up. In the end, I not only had first, but I felt -- for a change -- that I had executed a strategy that worked and that suited my style.
I think I will stick in the laboratory of the micro-stakes for a bit while I try on this New-greanu suit of clothes. And I will watch those videos many times more.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
V: Aargh!
Starting balance: $412.80
Cannot win no matter what. Tourney or cash game, makes no difference. JJ cracked by A6, JJ cracked by KT, top pair chased to the river by AK who of course catches his A, all-in flush draws catching their flushes, KcKs cracked by QdQh when four hearts hit the board, ATd cracked by J6, and so on and so on and so on... I am getting deep new insights into tilt, I will grant that, and it would seem that the laws of chance have chosen to spread their cheeks and demonstrate quite graphically what they feel about my Freudian musings.
Ending balance: $350.35
No no no no....$289.35
Time for another few days off. Another afternoon of this and I'll be rebuying for sure.
Cannot win no matter what. Tourney or cash game, makes no difference. JJ cracked by A6, JJ cracked by KT, top pair chased to the river by AK who of course catches his A, all-in flush draws catching their flushes, KcKs cracked by QdQh when four hearts hit the board, ATd cracked by J6, and so on and so on and so on... I am getting deep new insights into tilt, I will grant that, and it would seem that the laws of chance have chosen to spread their cheeks and demonstrate quite graphically what they feel about my Freudian musings.
Ending balance: $350.35
No no no no....$289.35
Time for another few days off. Another afternoon of this and I'll be rebuying for sure.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
V: Plugging leaks
Caution: Annyoing psychological insights ahead
As Douchebag and I were saying last night, when things click, it feels like it will stay that way forever, like you've finally figured it out, but that never seems to be the case. So far at least, Douchebag and I are prone to the same rhythms of dramatic swings both up and down (granted, his swings up are both longer and upper). For sure I at least vacillate between tight controlled poker that makes me proud to have a seat at the table, and the card-table equivalent of sitting in the sandbox and smearing myself with my own droppings.
So, lo and behold, maybe this exercise and this blog are actually doing what we'd hoped they would do: make us really focus on our leaks and get to plugging them. I've always known mine was impatience -- that's no surprise -- but I am starting to realize the many forms that impatience takes. I always viewed it as the ill-timed bluff when I am bored, or a late-game tendency to get wildly over-involved in pots where I am a sure loser. And that's part of it. But it's also betting way beyond value in the hopes of taking down a pot then and there, thus cheating myself of possible value while overexposing myself in the event that things don't go as planned. It's falling in love with my cards because I don't want to do the difficult work of arriving at a considered judgment that takes the board, position and the simple humanity of the other players into account. It's resorting to all-in rather than value betting. And so on, and so on. I realize that I have an extraordinary amount of work to do, but this insight is a start at least.
For Douchebag, the big leak is apparently lack of confidence, and for Badger, a strong tendency towards passivity (a close cousin but not an identical twin). The problem too, of course, is that, while identifying leaks is hard enough, plugging them is much, much harder. Quite obviously so, because they wouldn't be leaks if they were so easily fixed. Being both a literary geek and a Freudian-minded Jew, I am inclined to think about the deeper psychological roots of why I fuck up, inspired in large measure by an essay written by the playwright David Mamet, who was himself a very strong player.
In "The Things Poker Teaches," Mamet wrote:
Poker reveals to the frank observer something else of import--it will teach him about his own nature. Many bad players do not improve because they cannot bear self-knowledge. The bad player will not deign to determine what he thinks by watching what he does. To do so might, and frequently would, reveal a need to be abused (in calling what must be a superior hand); a need to be loved (in staying for "that one magic card"); a need to have Daddy relent (in trying to bluff out the obvious best hand), etc. It is painful to observe this sort of thing about oneself. Many times we'd rather suffer on than fix it....
The same is said of Go, of chess, of any great game truly worth engaging with: whatever your personality, its strengths and most definitely its flaws, are mirrored right back at you if you are only able and willing to see them. And at least as far as I go, Mamet (and others) was spot on, though I'll spare you the details.
This all is perhaps deeper and more uncomfortable than a jokey poker blog is supposed to be, but, well, making people uncomfortable has been my speciality since the mid-1970's. Besides, I think about all those hours I spent plumbing my own murky depths on the psychologist's couch and figure "hell, why shouldn't they suffer too?"
Something to consider, at any rate. Who knows? Maybe we'll all emerge from all this slightly better people and not just slightly better card players.
As Douchebag and I were saying last night, when things click, it feels like it will stay that way forever, like you've finally figured it out, but that never seems to be the case. So far at least, Douchebag and I are prone to the same rhythms of dramatic swings both up and down (granted, his swings up are both longer and upper). For sure I at least vacillate between tight controlled poker that makes me proud to have a seat at the table, and the card-table equivalent of sitting in the sandbox and smearing myself with my own droppings.
So, lo and behold, maybe this exercise and this blog are actually doing what we'd hoped they would do: make us really focus on our leaks and get to plugging them. I've always known mine was impatience -- that's no surprise -- but I am starting to realize the many forms that impatience takes. I always viewed it as the ill-timed bluff when I am bored, or a late-game tendency to get wildly over-involved in pots where I am a sure loser. And that's part of it. But it's also betting way beyond value in the hopes of taking down a pot then and there, thus cheating myself of possible value while overexposing myself in the event that things don't go as planned. It's falling in love with my cards because I don't want to do the difficult work of arriving at a considered judgment that takes the board, position and the simple humanity of the other players into account. It's resorting to all-in rather than value betting. And so on, and so on. I realize that I have an extraordinary amount of work to do, but this insight is a start at least.
For Douchebag, the big leak is apparently lack of confidence, and for Badger, a strong tendency towards passivity (a close cousin but not an identical twin). The problem too, of course, is that, while identifying leaks is hard enough, plugging them is much, much harder. Quite obviously so, because they wouldn't be leaks if they were so easily fixed. Being both a literary geek and a Freudian-minded Jew, I am inclined to think about the deeper psychological roots of why I fuck up, inspired in large measure by an essay written by the playwright David Mamet, who was himself a very strong player.
In "The Things Poker Teaches," Mamet wrote:
Poker reveals to the frank observer something else of import--it will teach him about his own nature. Many bad players do not improve because they cannot bear self-knowledge. The bad player will not deign to determine what he thinks by watching what he does. To do so might, and frequently would, reveal a need to be abused (in calling what must be a superior hand); a need to be loved (in staying for "that one magic card"); a need to have Daddy relent (in trying to bluff out the obvious best hand), etc. It is painful to observe this sort of thing about oneself. Many times we'd rather suffer on than fix it....
The same is said of Go, of chess, of any great game truly worth engaging with: whatever your personality, its strengths and most definitely its flaws, are mirrored right back at you if you are only able and willing to see them. And at least as far as I go, Mamet (and others) was spot on, though I'll spare you the details.
This all is perhaps deeper and more uncomfortable than a jokey poker blog is supposed to be, but, well, making people uncomfortable has been my speciality since the mid-1970's. Besides, I think about all those hours I spent plumbing my own murky depths on the psychologist's couch and figure "hell, why shouldn't they suffer too?"
Something to consider, at any rate. Who knows? Maybe we'll all emerge from all this slightly better people and not just slightly better card players.
Out of the slump?
That was a long night of poker, but hopefully also a turning point for me. That said it is always so much easier in the weekend. All the weekend-players are out in full force, and a quick sharkscoping of a table during the week vs on the weekend (in Europe/US prime time that is) will show that. A quick scope on a weekday at the wrong hours will show a table full of sharks and people playing pro or semi-pro - not what you want.
Anyway, a couple of days with countless $20 SNGs and I have grinded my way back up to $733.37.
I would also love to be able to say that I am getting closer to solving my mental block that causes these silly swings in my form. Of course poker is a game of variance and you run both good and bad. Today I ran very neutral, but I played much better. Can I pin point what I do differently when I win? Sort of, but can I emulate it when things are not going well? That remains to be seen. This is, and has been for years, my big challenge. I need to find some sort of reset button in my head that erases all the bad beats, the lost coinflips and the scars from 4th places. A way to forget the last game and just play 'my game'. Some sort of method to recalibrate. Sounds a lot like monkey tilt I suppose, but my 'tilt' seems to force me in to caution (and ultimately failure) as opposed to 'classic tilt' with recklessness and spewing chips.
For now just happy to have broken the streak and regained some confidence.
Anyway, a couple of days with countless $20 SNGs and I have grinded my way back up to $733.37.
I would also love to be able to say that I am getting closer to solving my mental block that causes these silly swings in my form. Of course poker is a game of variance and you run both good and bad. Today I ran very neutral, but I played much better. Can I pin point what I do differently when I win? Sort of, but can I emulate it when things are not going well? That remains to be seen. This is, and has been for years, my big challenge. I need to find some sort of reset button in my head that erases all the bad beats, the lost coinflips and the scars from 4th places. A way to forget the last game and just play 'my game'. Some sort of method to recalibrate. Sounds a lot like monkey tilt I suppose, but my 'tilt' seems to force me in to caution (and ultimately failure) as opposed to 'classic tilt' with recklessness and spewing chips.
For now just happy to have broken the streak and regained some confidence.
Badger's Come-to-Jesus (Ferguson) Moment
OK. So I know this is my second entry today, after a bit of an absence, but I have been convinced of something: stop slow-playing in tourneys, Badge!
I have played 6 SNGs tonite, finishing 1st once, 2nd twice, and waaay back the other 3. Bad play on the 3 I lost, right?
Well, sort of...in that I have had great starting hands...and then screwed myself via "cagey" slow-play (clearly, I am always the coyote, never the road-runner!)
Despite the dual deities' (Harrington's and Sklansky's) advice, I opted, retardedly, to slow-play a KK, an AA and (post-flop) a low-straight. Guess what? Every single one of those "winning" hands either ended in my elimination, or my crippling to the point that I was effectively eliminated.
I am now about 99% converted to the theology of "value-betting" in tourneys (but not for cash games--totally different animal). I KNOW that when one is learning to play poker, the trap is a nice weapon to harvest more cash. But it is probably an over-used weapon (even in cash games) and an RPG that detonates in your face in a tourney!
Sure, it is nice to win a few more chips if your slow-play; but if your opponent flops or turns his 2nd pair (or straight, or flush) are you really laying down your top pair (or two pair or low flush)? Not unless you're Daniel Negraneau!
Herr and Douchebag, curious to hear your thoughts. Coming to realize that this has been a major leak in my tourney place. Indeed, comin' to Jesus!
I have played 6 SNGs tonite, finishing 1st once, 2nd twice, and waaay back the other 3. Bad play on the 3 I lost, right?
Well, sort of...in that I have had great starting hands...and then screwed myself via "cagey" slow-play (clearly, I am always the coyote, never the road-runner!)
Despite the dual deities' (Harrington's and Sklansky's) advice, I opted, retardedly, to slow-play a KK, an AA and (post-flop) a low-straight. Guess what? Every single one of those "winning" hands either ended in my elimination, or my crippling to the point that I was effectively eliminated.
I am now about 99% converted to the theology of "value-betting" in tourneys (but not for cash games--totally different animal). I KNOW that when one is learning to play poker, the trap is a nice weapon to harvest more cash. But it is probably an over-used weapon (even in cash games) and an RPG that detonates in your face in a tourney!
Sure, it is nice to win a few more chips if your slow-play; but if your opponent flops or turns his 2nd pair (or straight, or flush) are you really laying down your top pair (or two pair or low flush)? Not unless you're Daniel Negraneau!
Herr and Douchebag, curious to hear your thoughts. Coming to realize that this has been a major leak in my tourney place. Indeed, comin' to Jesus!
Friday, February 6, 2009
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
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
Badger's Belated January Summary
I have been a little remiss at posting (and, for that matter, playing online). I have been caught up in some pretty wild bricks 'n mortar games. More on that in a sec.
Anyhoo, after my little final-week comeback, I managed to close out January at $132.05. I am not thrilled at that, but I am pretty happy with that final push. Clearly I will need to hone my SNG skills and, simply put, plant my ass in front of this screen and put in the hours.
On Sunday I managed to grind out a second-place finish in our weekly bricks 'n mortar tourney. I had some crazy luck in the first blind level (flopped, I kid you not, quad-A's...and then quad-6s). It was insane luck; alas, with the blatantly-paired board, I didn't get paid all that well.
I then ground my way to the final table and, short-stacked, managed to stay alive by being HIGHLY selective in picking my all-in moments (credit Herr and his coaching there). A flying Finn was making frequent all-in moves, blithely swiping blinds right, left-and centre, particularly when he was the SB...and I the big blind. I let him get away with it a couple times, then looked down and, finding bullets, called 'im. He had something stellar such as a J-10 offsuit; my AA held up. I doubled up and was back in contention.
Soon there were three of us--we'd made it into the money. "Lion King", a very tight but very solid player took out the third player with an all-in (I believe he had AA--his fourth pair of bullets in short succession). The good news was that we were down to 2; the bad news was that Lion King now had me more than double-chipped.
Heads-up is not my forte at the best of time; against the big-stacked grizzled Lion King, it was not a fun experience. He raised early and often (as so he should); I waited for cards so that I could come back over the top at him. The couple of times I had (low) pairs, he folded. Eventually, with K-10, I raised him. He re-raised. I could have folded and be left with less than a 1:3 ratio. I went for it. Leo, bless his furry little heart, shows an A-K. I am dominated, and his big slick holds up. It was a brutal finale to the tourney but, heck, it was a good experience overall.
After the tourney I made some good $ playing cash games before heading out to watch the Super Bowl (morning in Asia). Last night followed a similar trajectory: a very profitable cash game, followed by all-night socializing (this time with saccharine Asian karaoke, not salty American football as the backdrop).
The good news is that I have been making very good dough playing bricks n mortar. The bad news is that I have been shirking my PokerScars play-time. I need to get back to it! And really work on my heads-up play.
I've started Sklansky's Advanced Tournament guide--it seems promising, especially as it has been updated with a fair amount of NL THE material. But all the reading in the world won't move me towards my target. Time to get back to playing!
Anyhoo, after my little final-week comeback, I managed to close out January at $132.05. I am not thrilled at that, but I am pretty happy with that final push. Clearly I will need to hone my SNG skills and, simply put, plant my ass in front of this screen and put in the hours.
On Sunday I managed to grind out a second-place finish in our weekly bricks 'n mortar tourney. I had some crazy luck in the first blind level (flopped, I kid you not, quad-A's...and then quad-6s). It was insane luck; alas, with the blatantly-paired board, I didn't get paid all that well.
I then ground my way to the final table and, short-stacked, managed to stay alive by being HIGHLY selective in picking my all-in moments (credit Herr and his coaching there). A flying Finn was making frequent all-in moves, blithely swiping blinds right, left-and centre, particularly when he was the SB...and I the big blind. I let him get away with it a couple times, then looked down and, finding bullets, called 'im. He had something stellar such as a J-10 offsuit; my AA held up. I doubled up and was back in contention.
Soon there were three of us--we'd made it into the money. "Lion King", a very tight but very solid player took out the third player with an all-in (I believe he had AA--his fourth pair of bullets in short succession). The good news was that we were down to 2; the bad news was that Lion King now had me more than double-chipped.
Heads-up is not my forte at the best of time; against the big-stacked grizzled Lion King, it was not a fun experience. He raised early and often (as so he should); I waited for cards so that I could come back over the top at him. The couple of times I had (low) pairs, he folded. Eventually, with K-10, I raised him. He re-raised. I could have folded and be left with less than a 1:3 ratio. I went for it. Leo, bless his furry little heart, shows an A-K. I am dominated, and his big slick holds up. It was a brutal finale to the tourney but, heck, it was a good experience overall.
After the tourney I made some good $ playing cash games before heading out to watch the Super Bowl (morning in Asia). Last night followed a similar trajectory: a very profitable cash game, followed by all-night socializing (this time with saccharine Asian karaoke, not salty American football as the backdrop).
The good news is that I have been making very good dough playing bricks n mortar. The bad news is that I have been shirking my PokerScars play-time. I need to get back to it! And really work on my heads-up play.
I've started Sklansky's Advanced Tournament guide--it seems promising, especially as it has been updated with a fair amount of NL THE material. But all the reading in the world won't move me towards my target. Time to get back to playing!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Taking a step back
It has been a while since the last update as I have been busy
travelling
tilting
being sick
tilting
getting bad beat
drinking
tilting
and travelling some more.
I have not played all that much compared to January.
None of the above has done much for my balance though which now reads $622.33.
Personally I do not remember ever running as bad as I have in the last week or so. I have been losing most coinflips and suffered more bad beats than I care to remember. I could rant on about being cursed, doomswitched, online poker being rigged etc, but I will stay upbeat and positive mainly because I think I have kept my head through it all and played quite well.
I won't be playing a lot in the near future either and so for now I have decided to stick to $10 SNGs until I get my balance back up to near where it was - and my confidence likewise. As I have said before confidence seems to be a huge part of my game and right now there is none again.
travelling
tilting
being sick
tilting
getting bad beat
drinking
tilting
and travelling some more.
I have not played all that much compared to January.
None of the above has done much for my balance though which now reads $622.33.
Personally I do not remember ever running as bad as I have in the last week or so. I have been losing most coinflips and suffered more bad beats than I care to remember. I could rant on about being cursed, doomswitched, online poker being rigged etc, but I will stay upbeat and positive mainly because I think I have kept my head through it all and played quite well.
I won't be playing a lot in the near future either and so for now I have decided to stick to $10 SNGs until I get my balance back up to near where it was - and my confidence likewise. As I have said before confidence seems to be a huge part of my game and right now there is none again.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Badger Gets Back Up With a Little Help from His Friends
Soooo, following Herr's most impressive "bricks and mortar" victory on Sunday (and my most dismal weak play in said tourney), my blog-mate kindly offered to help me putty up the leaks in my game.
We sat down, pre-pub quiz and played 2 one-table SNGs. It didn't take Herr too long to see that I had acquired 2 leaks of sufficient gauge to down the QE2:
1. I was playing far too many hands. Low suited-connectors in any position? Sure thing! K-2 in late position? Why the hell not! He smacked me smart, and good.
2. When I was involved in a hand, I was not following thru post-flop: I was getting all weak-kneed if I didn't hit top pair. Well, Herr smartened me up: "gotta keep attacking when you were the pre-flop aggressor". Not always, of course (position and number of opponents are key), but, in general he is dead-on.
Having performed on-the-fly triage, we ended up finishing 4th on the first SNG (sadly, right on the bubble)...and 1st in our second one! There we were, high-fiving and shrieking in victory at my iBook in the staid English pub. Did I just imagine the Brits seated around us gritting their teeth, rolling their eyes and saying "Bloody Yanks!"
Anyhoooo, prior to Herr's tutelage, I had been in a deep Badger funk: over the previous 10 days or so, my stack had dwindled from neigh $160 to sub-$100. I was in the red and many, many miles from my Feb 1 target of $200.
Well, I sat down last nite (from about 11 pm 'til 6 am!) and played according to the new mantra: highly selective in the early stages, and then attack, attack, attack post-flop. And attack, attack, attack as the blinds climb and the opponents wither.
In that seven hour stretch I managed to dispatch a lovely white Rhone...and, in 11 games, place 7 times "in the money"--with 3 first-place finishes.
I ain't counting my chickens yet, but the Badger is back on the farm, sniffing around the hen house.
I look forward to another practice session with Herr, and hopefully with Douchebag as well, upon his return from Vietnam.
Ending balance: $145.
We sat down, pre-pub quiz and played 2 one-table SNGs. It didn't take Herr too long to see that I had acquired 2 leaks of sufficient gauge to down the QE2:
1. I was playing far too many hands. Low suited-connectors in any position? Sure thing! K-2 in late position? Why the hell not! He smacked me smart, and good.
2. When I was involved in a hand, I was not following thru post-flop: I was getting all weak-kneed if I didn't hit top pair. Well, Herr smartened me up: "gotta keep attacking when you were the pre-flop aggressor". Not always, of course (position and number of opponents are key), but, in general he is dead-on.
Having performed on-the-fly triage, we ended up finishing 4th on the first SNG (sadly, right on the bubble)...and 1st in our second one! There we were, high-fiving and shrieking in victory at my iBook in the staid English pub. Did I just imagine the Brits seated around us gritting their teeth, rolling their eyes and saying "Bloody Yanks!"
Anyhoooo, prior to Herr's tutelage, I had been in a deep Badger funk: over the previous 10 days or so, my stack had dwindled from neigh $160 to sub-$100. I was in the red and many, many miles from my Feb 1 target of $200.
Well, I sat down last nite (from about 11 pm 'til 6 am!) and played according to the new mantra: highly selective in the early stages, and then attack, attack, attack post-flop. And attack, attack, attack as the blinds climb and the opponents wither.
In that seven hour stretch I managed to dispatch a lovely white Rhone...and, in 11 games, place 7 times "in the money"--with 3 first-place finishes.
I ain't counting my chickens yet, but the Badger is back on the farm, sniffing around the hen house.
I look forward to another practice session with Herr, and hopefully with Douchebag as well, upon his return from Vietnam.
Ending balance: $145.
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