bastin

Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 10:47 am

I told a joke at a table I was playing the other night. It went like this:

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Pocket Kings and Pocket Aces.

Pocket Kings and Pocket Aces! Wooo hooo! Party time! Come on in!

What I didn’t see was the suited connectors that snuck in the back door while I was at the front. By the end of the night, those sooteds had drank all of my good booze and put cigarette burns in my carpet.

This little scenario pretty much sums up my experience the last couple of days while playing at Full Tilt Poker. I have had the above combinations perhaps ten times in perhaps 400 hands. Each time, I have either garnered little or more often, lost my stack. Only one time did my hand, KK, lose to AA, and once my AA lost to QQQQ. All of the other times I have lost to suited connectors. Essentially, after grinding away for several days to make $125, it was lost in a matter of four or five hands, both in ring and tourney play.

OK, so I’m having a bad run. I’ve had these before. My last one at Poker Academy lasted ten months, and some readers will recall the blighted games I related from my casino experiences. I am happy to say that the PAO slump has diminished, due in no small way to the re-establishment of a value for PAX (read between the lines on this). Sadly, my casino days are over for the most part, so redemption on that front will have to be postponed. (I’m broke.) As for Full Tilt, I have been in this position a number of times at that sight, and I am sure that I will recover somewhat by pulling back to playing the micro tables and small tourneys. Or not. The bad run may continue until I am broke there as well.

Another joke: Full Tilt Poker called and they want their money back.

However, if I do go broke at FTP, it will be their loss. How so? And why should they care? Simple: rake.

I have no idea how much I have paid in rake to FTP over the last year. I started with $150, and with their matching bonus had another $150 to play with during that time. I have had huge swings compared to my bankroll. I currently have $100, and have been up as high as $400. Generally I hover around my original $150. If I had to guess, I’d say I’ve played about 15,000 hands in ring alone. That’s a fair amount of rake. As way of comparison, in the last year at PAO I’ve played about 70,000 hands, and during the bad run, my rake paid was out-pacing my winning by about 10 to 1. As recently as last moth I was negative dollars won with over $3,000 in rake paid. Big single losses will do that. It’s considerably better now, but I’m still behind about $900. In that I have not been able to accumulate a bankroll at FTP, I would imagine they have made a lot more money from my play than the $150 they gave me as a sign-up bonus. Rake is the silent pilferer.

And one more: If one slightly crosses one’s eye when looking at the Full Tilt logo on their felt, it becomes Evil Tilt Poker.

Such an observation can lead one astray fairly quickly. Conspiracy theory time: a quick profile of my nick shows that I’ll push to the showdown with a big pocket pair. So give him his pair and load someone else with a spoiler. Knock him down so he has to keep playing to “break even” or better. In today’s world, computers can do anything, right? So why not utilize such a strategy against dupes like me. This paranoid approach is easy to swallow because it allows me to avoid analyzing my play, and more than likely, keeps me repeating the same mistakes just to prove I am right: “How could you play those cards with my raise UTG? You must have known how the cards would come.“ (I have seen players type such things.) Sure, FTP makes their rake. My opponents make more.

So, the question remains: how do I avoid going broke with big pairs? Is this the age-old question of the novice? I worry that betting too much pre-flop will give a way my hand. Say I come in 6 or 7 times the big blind from under the gun, or after several limpers, come in late for the same amount….what does this tell the 9 10 suited that came in early? He calls and hits two pair on the flop. Barring a set, I’m doomed and may not start to realize it until after the bet on the turn. (And I don’t care what anyone says about getting my money in with the best hand. As sure as God made little green apples, as soon as a loose player looking for a cooler doubles up, he leaves the table. Your optimal play won’t get that money back later in the game.) I appreciate the way Sklansky approaches this: if the only cards that can beat you are a 5 and a 7, if the betting pattern says that what your opponent has, no matter how unlikely, rest assured, your opponent holds those cards. It puts big pocket pairs into perspective. They are not the nuts. A broadway on a non-flush board is the nuts as is an ace high flush on a non-paired, uncoordinated board; and add to that the reminder that trips are not a set and that two pair often suck. These are the mantras that I must continue to chant, not “RIGGED.” That way I may stand a chance of holding onto some of the money that FTP has so graciously allowed me to win.

Posted: Wed Sep 05, 2007 1:56 pm

Hello dear friends.

This past weekend was a three-day holiday for most working folks here in the States. My dear wife and I didn’t want to feel left out, so we decided that after a full day in the fields Saturday, we would take it easy and pursue activities other than farming on Sunday. As far as I was concerned, I was going to play poker. The only thing to figure out was whether to drive out to the casino or play on at FTP.

It wasn’t an easy decision. As some readers may recall, my live bankroll has taken some nasty hits recently, including one trip about which I didn’t even bother to post as it was just another cracked AA & KK tale of woe. I had about $600 left, a bit too short for serious 1/2 tables. On the other hand, my FTP roll is at about $200, which would allow me plenty of room to play $5 tourneys and some micro ring. In the end, I chose the former with the main rationale being that this was surely a big weekend at the casino, summer’s last hurrah, as it were, and there was a strong likelihood of some easier money being at the tables.

I arrived a bit later than I had wanted to and the poker room was jam-packed. All seventeen tables were full and the waiting lists were longer than I had ever seen them. When I signed up I was number 15 on the list for 1/2 NL, so I also signed up for 3/6 Limit, number 7 on that list. Nevertheless, the wait for the 3/6 was only about 5 minutes, so I sat down with $160 and some time to kill while waiting for 1/2.

I recognize a couple of the regular Limit players at the table. There is a husband/wife pair who is there every time I go to the casino, so I assume they are there a lot. Neither have much of a stack. There is also a young guy whom I recognize only because of his ball cap. He doesn’t have many chips either. The biggest stacks are in front of two older gentlemen, one who is really ancient and seems to be on the brink and needs to be prompted by the dealer when it is his turn to act. As the game wears on, he is making spectacular lucky hits. The other big stack looks to be relatively new to retirement, and despite his number of chips, seems to think he is beat in each hand he is involved. There were others at the table, one I can’t remember, and finally another married couple who played fairly straightforward, called a lot and went through a comparatively large some of money for a 3/6 game. I took some of it in unremarkable hands.

One hand stands out. I was in the BB and the wife from the “regulars”, sitting two to my left, limps in. Several other limpers bring it to me. I have K8 off and check. The flop comes 282 and I check. The woman bets $3.

OK, I should back up here a bit. I have an impression of this woman. Her posture is very rigid, contrasted to her husband who seems very laid back. She likes to talk between hands but becomes very quiet when she’s in a hand. Her glasses are not reading glasses, but they’re perched on her nose in a manner that they might as well be. She’s bookish. I just know she’s a liberal (as I am) and I can also tell she’s takes her game very seriously.

There’s one more caller before it gets back to me and I raise it another $3. She re-raises, the other player folds and I call. She’s either got an 8 as well, a higher pair, nines perhaps, or A2 suited; and if she has pocket 2’s, well, she wouldn’t have re-raised. The turn is another 8. I check, she bets and I call. The river is a Q, I bet, she raises, I re-raise. She calls and says, I have the boat. I reply, Sorry sister, I have an 8, at which point she lights into me about making the donkey play on the flop. How could I call her first re-raise? My reply was that my initial raise was to see where I was at. At this point the husband chimes in: That’s OK, more action is good. Finally she pulls out the poker cliché: “Well, I hope you keep playing like that.” I will, thank you. Maybe she isn’t as bookish as I first thought, for even a cursory reading on limit reveals that I had played my hand correctly, except perhaps, I could have gotten even more money out of her, but I doubt it.

Soon after that, a seat opened at a 1/2 table and I left up $40. Second hand in I had AA against pocket 10’s. He folded after the flop. A couple hands later I had AK in the big blind, bet $16 and got three callers, including the small blind. An A came on the flop with two clubs. I had the Ace of clubs. I bet the pot and everyone folded except the small blind. Another club on the turn. She checks as do I. River is a blank and she bets $30. I pay her off. She shows 35 clubs. I mutter, I thought I just left a Limit table. She says, in broken English, “I have flush.” I’m down over $100 and re-buy to $200 again. I say to myself, Keep playing like that, sister. Well, she kept playing like that, chasing but not hitting, only I didn’t get a piece of the $200 she lost before leaving.

The table was a good mix of regulars who had stacks, and tourists. I settled in for a grind and made my way up about $100, where I remained for the greater portion of the day and evening. I had plenty of time to get a read on the players, and it was the regulars to whom I paid the most attention, for I had never played them before. They were 2/5 players playing 1/2. One guy was a rock behind sunglasses. If he was in the hand, it was for a good reason. I saw him make some tough lay downs, and rarely did he win a sizable pot. I was in a hand once with him. I was again in the BB with AQ suited. He had limped mid-early. I raised and he called. A queen came on the flop and I bet it and he raised 1.5 times the pot. I said, Okay brother and folded. Kings? I asked. He just nodded.

He and another player had been at the table longer than I had. The other player was also a regular, or so I assumed as quite a few people came up to say hi to him. While seemingly ready to fall asleep at any given moment, this guy played 70% of his hands. Over the course of the day I came to call him Mr. Two Pair. If he could limp in, he would; if someone bet before or after him, he called; if he was first to act post-flop, he’d bet $10; and if he stayed in post-flop, he would call almost every hand down. He often showed top pair, lousy kicker or two pair. When I first sat down, he had about $600 in front of him; yet when a passerby commented on his stack, he remarked that he was just about even. I personally received a fair mount of his stack later in the evening with a set of Queens and felted him and another short stack when a late limp with 34d gave me 2 pair. More on Mr. Two Pair a little later.

I had been playing a few speculative hands, partly because of Mr. Two Pair to my left but mostly because the table was otherwise fairly tight. Short-stacks came and went throughout the day, and players racked up 3 x their buy-ins and called it a day. I wasn’t in a hurry, the table didn’t have any real danger that I could see, and I pretty much told myself to stay out of big hands unless I had the absolute nuts. By 12:30 Monday morning I had about $400, ahead $140, when suddenly a few new players completely changed the table.

Joe buys in. Joe is a Very-regular. Everyone seems to know him, or acts like they know him well. He likes to talk. He sees himself as table captain, often interrupting the dealer as pots are being figured out. The dealers are familiar with this tendency and tell him to butt out. Other than that, he seems like a nice enough guy. Joe likes to go all in on the turn. .Joe triples up in short order. He’s two to my right, so I’m in pretty good shape. I tell myself, nothing crazy with him.

There’s a new player to my immediate right who is bending Joe’s ear about a woman he’s there with and the bad beats they’ve been trading all weekend. He’s going on and on and on… Joe gets up “to move his car” and the guy turns to me. He smells like a distillery. He’s losing money right and left (see 34d above) while complaining about the woman. Each time he loses, he says something to the effect, “Man, it sure is costing me a lot of money to get a read on this table.” Pretty soon, the woman who he is with comes to the table and they start a betting war. Between them they leave about $1200 on the table. I’ve collected about $200 of it.

Yet, this is just one drama that is happening at the table. There have been some bad beats: a huge pot when A9d vs QQ, flops 9 9 10 4 Q, and some monster hands like 10s pushed and unimproved vs As. The table is loose and angry with grudges to be settled. And I’m just a teeny bit sorry to say that I am responsible for a portion of it.

I’m in the BB with J9d and get to see a flop, which is 9h 10d 8d. I check and raise. There are two callers, the drunk and a guy with expensive wire rims and a cowboy hat. He’s a player. Probably works at Intel or someplace like that: all hat, no cattle. His black t shirt under a white dress shirt annoys me for some reason. The turn is a blank, I bet 1/4 of the pot and the cowboy comes over the top for $80. The drunk folds and I go into the tank. Actually, all I do is count up what’s in the pot, and that takes me a bit of time. I have $55 to call and there’s about $100 in the pot so far, not counting my $25. I call. The guy is incredulous and says before the river, “I’m checking because you must be sitting on some kind of monster. “

Now, it’s the way he said that that makes all of the difference. He was angry I had called. He wasn’t toying with me, to be sure. Here was another person who took their game seriously and was pretty darn sure of himself. The River was a J, which was an OK card, yet I checked and showed my 2 pair. I have no idea what he had because he mucked and exclaimed “How could you call that bet!?” I said that I was getting at least 2/1 on my money, to which he informed me I was a 4 to 1 dog until the river. Well, dear friends, a pair, an open-ended and a flush draw? How many outs can you count? The fact that I won with a measly two pair tells me the boy had a high pocket pair, and not Jacks. However, this hand would come back to haunt me.

By now I was sitting pretty with about $750 in front of me. This time I’m in the SB and I hold Kings. Three limpers and I raise it up to $16. Joe is my only caller in the cut-off. The flop comes 10 4 2 rainbow and I bet the pot . Joe comes over the top with $100 more. I call, hoping to see a King on the turn. Blank. I check and Joe goes all in. Of course I can’t call. He’s representing a set and with my previous call, he knows I have a big pocket pair. He’s says he had a set, but none of the other regulars have believed him in previous hands when he has made this move. I too am left t wonder, and this is why:

Joe was at the table when I played that hand against the cowboy. He saw me check on the river. Yes, I was unsure as to just how good my hand was, but I let the cowboy and everyone else at the table, see my hand. A bit too tight-weak. I began to get the feeling that Joe had exploited this and merely out-played me. Could I have played this hand differently? What if I had just limped with the Kings? I might have been able to save some money. Or who knows, I may have been able to outplay a bluff….if it was a bluff.

I stuck around for a little while longer as the drunk was still at the table, but most folks at the table now had monster stacks and the room was emptying fast. From here on out it would be a game of diminishing returns for this relative newbie. I racked up, which actually made the table break up and consolidate with another. I went out to the car to catch a little shut-eye.

Like I could sleep! After some lengthy tossing and turning and rivering, I went back to the poker room. Only Joe, the kid with the Queens and Mr. Two Pair remained from the old table. Mr. Two Pair now had a comparatively huge stack in front of him. I bought back into the game. Mr. TP was still playing his game. I saw amazing rivers hit for him. Yet, soon, even he appeared to have had enough and started to rack up about $700, still playing while doing so. He couldn’t help himself, and in the next six or seven hands, he lost $150. I am certain he left way down for the day.

An hour after sitting down, I’d made another $100 but then my eyes started shutting, so I cashed out. I had about 2.5 times my buy-in and had caught a little ray of hope for the future. But I also know that I’m far from out of the woods. My bankroll is still fragile, and there are players out there who have 10 and 20 times more playing experience and bankroll than I do. The upside of this is that I learned a bit from them this day. It is not just winning, it is how one wins. The nuances are key, and not surprisingly the most difficult aspect of the game.

Well, summer is unofficially now over. The tourists have gone home and I am left to imagine what the casino will be like in the off season. Local sharks circling for any little scraps they can pick up, perhaps taking pieces of each others’ tail in the process. It’ll come down to what kind of shark one is: Nurse, Sand or Great White. I think I may hang out at FTP instead.

Posted: Mon Jul 30, 2007 10:23 pm

Thursday night at the poker table was pretty unremarkable. And, as Thursday turned into Friday, my table became short-handed as players went off to home or to a motel room. My stack had dwindled as well and I contemplated calling it a night. One of the players still remaining said, “Now’s the time to hit the bad beat jackpot. Short-handed we’d get a bigger cut.”

At this casino one has to be beat quads over quads or better to get a piece of the jackpot. It was now above $56,000. A healthy amount. Dealers were saying that it was due to hit. Although I don’t concern myself with it while I play, I’m aware of the bad beat jackpot. Every time I visit the casino, I check to see that the amount is still intact. I could use a new truck.

But alas, the table soon broke and I ended up at another 1/2 table for a short while, short-stacked and looking for a good hole cards. After folding two straights draws that hit with the odds to call, I knew it was time to get some sleep. It was way late.

Yet, as usual, sleep didn’t come easily. I had drunk too much coffee throughout the evening, plus I had several hands to replay. Eventually, I could feel the nod starting, and to hurry them a long, I said my prayer: “Help me endure.”

******

I was dealt pocket 8s and was able to limp in from middle position. Only the big blind stayed. The flop came 8 8 9. The BB bet and I smooth called with the nuts. The turn was another 9. The BB checked and so did I. The river was another 9, the big blind bet out and I went all in. The big blind called. He had quad 9s. The jackpot! Yet somehow, the hand didn’t count, and I lost my stack. This is the dream that woke me up 3 hours later.

Well, there was no way I was going to be able to go back to sleep after that, so I made some coffee, brushed my teeth, pulled on my “Jesus is my river card” t-shirt and headed down to the poker room. On the way down, I said a little prayer: “Jesus, I know you don’t like this t-shirt, but I hope you overlook it today. I know you don’t answer prayers for poker or the stock market, so if you’d just, as always, help me endure.”

Another player from the previous night was in the motel lobby checking out of his room. He’s a regular. I followed him out the door.

“Morning, “ I said, “Heading back over?”

“Yep. Another day at the office.”

“Yeah, me too, especially after dreaming that I won the bad beat jackpot. Well, not winning it, because somehow my quad eights against quad nines didn’t pay. There were 3 nines on the board, so something must have gone wrong.”

“Pray he has A 9 then, because 7 9 won’t cut it.”

I had betrayed my rookie status.

I had to wait a while to get a table. 1/2 wasn’t a high priority, plus a tourney had started and monopolized most of the dealers. Eventually, however, a table started and we got going. The table had several regulars and a couple young guys I had never seen before last night. They were friends…probably tourists. Both were wearing sunglasses, yet one wore his on his forehead instead of in front of his eyes. One of his eyes was cock-eyed, an esotrope (wall-eye) or lazy eye. The sunglasses must have been cosmetic because he never dropped them down.

There was nothing remarkable about this game. A lot of limping, and there was one old guy who kept pushing, as did the guy with the eye, obviously taking advantage of a tight table. They started to build stacks. I waited for a hand while in the back of my mind was the dream.

Eye-guy comes in from early position with a raise. I look down to find —YES— eights. I call. It is hard to maintain my composure. This is it! It could be! Yes! The flop comes all low cards, no eights or nines to be found. The guy bets just shy of the pot and I make a strong call. Turn is an A, he checks, I make a feeler and he folds. No jackpot but not a bad pot either. Maybe I’ll get 8s again.

Several hands later I’m in the big blind. Eye-guy limps and his buddy raises from the small blind. I have pocket 9s and call, as does Eye-guy. Flop is 10 10 9. Small blind puts out a good-sized bet and I smooth call. Eye guy makes it $100 or so to go. Perfect! SB folds, and inasmuch as only one hand can beat me at this point, I go all in and get an immediate call. He shows 10 J unsuited.

The turn is an 8. Hello little 8, I say to myself. Come to protect my hand have you? I dreamed about you last night. Did you know that? And, as I’m having this little flight of fantasy, a collective ”Oh NO!” arises from the players at the table. I saw the Jack come on the river, but it didn’t sink in quite as fast for me as it did the others. Eye-guy says, “Sorry buddy.” I didn’t respond.

He had me covered. I got up from my seat, said “Always a pleasure,” and left. On my way out I tried to tell my bad beat story to a couple staff. You could tell they were unsympathetic One said, “That’s happened to me too. You’ll get over it.” Hell, it has happened to everyone who has played enough poker. In a way, it’s a good thing, for it says that you’ve seen enough flops for both the beautiful and the ugly to hit.

But this one stung a bit more than usual. For one thing, I didn’t have enough cash left to buy in a full $200 again, and I didn’t want to stay in short. No, I didn’t want to stay at all. And secondly, these last two days of running bad, added to the previous two weeks of bad cards and plays had left me with a fairly paltry bankroll. I knew I wouldn’t be taking a seat again for quite some time.

And thirdly, my dream had betrayed me. Or had it? The Oracle at Delphi’s prophesies were cryptic, and being such left just enough room for the seekers to get it wrong. My sure thing was certainly a bad beat without a pot.

I’ve thought about this hand quite a bit in the last few days. What could Eye-guy think I had? In that I had called the small blind’s raise, an astute player could put me only on 2 or 3 hands: A 10, K 10 or pocket 9s. I came to think that this guy must not have been that good of a player. Then I recalled the hand with pocket 8s. I showed strength throughout and took the pot. Did he think I had bluffed? If so, he may have been calling my all in based on that. Perhaps my 8s had been my undoing after all.

Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 8:16 pm

Poker Academy Online #37,197,755
No Limit Texas Holdem ($0.5/$1 NL)
Table Emerald
August 03, 2007 - 01:51:35 (PDT)

1} bastin $298.35 5s As
2) Louis64 (sitting out)
3) hommell $138.80 ?? ??
4) MojoKing $93.30 ?? ??
5) sbstar $44.25 ?? ??
6) fouine $89.80 ?? ??
7) Brian Brain * $137.35 5d 3d
Cool

biddi $50.15 3c 6h
10) TRIPLEX $112.15 ?? ??

biddi posts small blind $0.50
TRIPLEX posts big blind $1
bastin calls $1
hommell folds
MojoKing folds
sbstar folds
fouine folds
Brian Brain calls $1
biddi calls $0.50
TRIPLEX checks

FLOP: 3s 8s Ad
biddi checks
TRIPLEX checks
bastin bets $4
Brian Brain calls $4
biddi calls $4
TRIPLEX folds

TURN: 3s 8s Ad 3h
biddi checks
bastin bets $8
Brian Brain raises $124.35 (all-in)
biddi calls $45.15 (all-in)

At this point I am seriously considering folding. Someone has A3, or at least trips. I'm beat and I know it. Then someone types in "coward," to which I type "lol" and...

bastin calls $124.35
bastin shows 5s As
Brian Brain shows 5d 3d
biddi shows 3c 6h

RIVER: 3s 8s Ad 3h Ac

bastin wins $174.40 with a Full House, Aces over Threes
bastin wins $148.45 with a Full House, Aces over Threes
$3 raked.

Posted: Sat Jul 28, 2007 12:18 am

This is the end; my dearest friends, the end.

I promise this will be the final bad beat story for a while, the reason for which will become shortly apparent.

Another Thursday evening/Friday trip to the casino.

AQ 2 pair drawn out or beat by God knows what on the river.

Top pair being flushed out on, without odds.

Other regular informs me the two guys I was sitting between were using eye signals. Informs me that was why he left our table early and didn't see fit to tell me or the floor about it until long after they had left.

High drawing hands going nowhere with the odds to call.

Good old AK, which I'm proud to say I folded at the appropriate times.

UTG KK, flop 3KQ rainbow, slowplay; pair of fives hits runner runner for flush.

A limper or two. SB raises, I call in BB with 9s. One caller. Flop is 10 10 9. SB makes small bet, I smooth call. Other player raises it up 100, I go all in. He calls, J 10. Jack on the river. Sure, he apologized. I gently pushed my chair in and said, "It's been a pleasure."

In the last 24 hours I have probably played some of the best poker of my short career. Unfortunately it was during a "bad run" and my bankroll is now at a level that prohibits any casino play. Yes, it has been a pleasure, if somewhat stressful. It's been a pleasure because I have been afforded the luxury and latitude to make these weekly trips. My dear spouse calls my bank my "learning money." Bless her heart. That would be just fine if I didn't adhere to some fundamentals of the game, bankroll management in this particular instance. So, for the foreseeable future, I'm done.

I believe there are some salmon and steelhead that need catching.....

Posted: Tue Jul 17, 2007 6:09 am

Hello dear friends.

It occurs to me that these posts about my casino experiences may suffer from a score of social missteps. First of all, I note that posts by others of similar adventures have a bit less emotional turmoil (apart from maybe pokergirl’s , yet that’s to be expected from my sister). It is true that I am prone to a high level of self-disclosure. In this context, it can be camouflaged within a bad beat story; yet my intention here is not to bitch and moan, or to seek pity. I do tend to let my emotional state get the better of me at the table, even if I don’t think so at the time, and I pay the price. This week is a case in point, and I would hope that an exploration of the how and whys are instructive not only to myself, but to others as well. With that said, let us call this essay: “Confessions of an Adequate Poker Player.”

I was done with farming rather early Saturday evening as the old leg was acting up again. As I sat on the porch reading Mason Malmuth’s “Essays #3” I began getting the urge to play instead of read about poker. I thought about PA or Full Tilt but our DSL is quite taxed on weekend nights. My ping goes nuts. When my dear wife came in from putting the ducks in, I asked, “What would you say if I went to the casino tonight, sleep in the car, play again tomorrow and be home in the early evening?” That’s a bit encapsulated but the gist is there, to which she replied, “Sure.” Bless her heart.

The poker room was full. I signed up for 1/2 and spotted a player who I’ve talked to a few times and asked him how his table was. Without any hesitation, he pointed to the guy to his left and said, “He’s an idiot. And you know how hard it is to get an idiot off of a hand.” I took that to mean to watch out for the tourists tonight. Being a good player at a soft table is sometimes not all that it’s cracked up to be.

After a short while, I was sat at a different table. First hand I get pocket queens and reraise from middle position after an initial small raise. Flop is all low cards, two spades. I have Q of spades. I bet the pot and initial raiser calls me, so I back down on turn and bet half the pot on a blank. River is two of spades, she checks, I check. She shows KJ spades. I’m a bit touchy right away, but say to myself I’ll get that 1/3 of my stack back. A few hands later I get to check in the BB with 9 10 suited. Flop is small with a 10. I bet pot. Two callers, including the same woman. Both follow me to the river, where a Q hits. Checks all around. She has Q. 45 minutes into my game and I have to buy chips. Not a good start.

Eventually this woman gets a taste of her own medicine when her AA gets cracked and she leaves. I limp in the SB with K8 diamonds. Flop comes with two diamonds but I check. A small bet is made somewhere in the middle of the pack, UTG and I call. Turn is a K and I bet out. UTG raises and other player folds. It’s about 3 to 1 to call. I’ve played with this guy quite a bit and he says to me, “I’ve got a made hand. You don’t want to call.” That says to me he has a set by the way the board looks, and I’d say it’s tens. I say, “I have outs. I almost have to call.” I almost folded. River was a blank. He goes all in after I check. I fold. As he shows me his Tens, he says to me, “Man, I tried to tell you. You’re the last person I want to be in a hand with at this table.” Even though he respects me, I know I’ll never get that money back from him if he tries to avoid me. In fact, he racks up fairly soon and I buy another stack of $100.

By 4 in the morning, despite some regular 2/5 players at my table, I’m about back to even, maybe $20 or so up, so I leave and try to get some sleep in the car. Two hours of tossing and turning and dreams about Q 10 off and I go back inside. The only 1/2 table open is filled with the all-night regulars. It takes about 2 hours to lose $300 on a lower flush and a Broadway that gets mauled by a flush. I get up from the table. I have to chill for a bit.

By 11 o’clock the room is jumping and they open a new 1/2 table. A fresh start. The table has a couple of old-timers who are on a first name basis with the staff, a couple young kids, a few others I’ve never seen before, and two folks whom I’ve only played with once. The long and short of it is that I make some spectacular bluffs to win some big pots, lose most of it chasing straights, and win a couple more massive pots. I go home down $200 for the session.

Stoked on way too much coffee, as I drove I began to think about the subject for this week’s missive. Initially, I thought I’d write about the bluffs, and how important it was that I was a stranger at the table who seemed like a solid player. I then started to replay the session and review how it was I came to lose money. It came down to the chasing. I had to ask myself why I chased. It all pointed back to that first hand with the Queens. I did not shake the feeling that I had to play catch-up poker. And once I isolated the three hands I chased and calculated how much I had lost, the irony hit me: had I not chased, I would have come home up at least $100 or so.

It still comes down to the delicate status of my bankroll. After a stellar week last week, I was hoping to well this week. The more I am able to build my bank, the more comfortable I can feel at the table and not take chances. I know… it’s backward thinking in that I took unreasonable chances anyway. But now I had tangible proof that chasing makes no sense whatsoever. I used to say “maybe I’ll get lucky” are the four worse words for a poker player to utter. I have also preached patience to fellow players who express frustration. It is time for me to re-acquaint myself those attitudes.

Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2007 6:26 am

Hello dear friends.

Another overnight at the casino. Rented a room this time, although I can’t say I slept very well.

I arrived at the casino about 5 pm. There were no 1/2 tables open yet there was a lengthy list so I figured there wouldn’t be too long of a wait, so I went and played some video poker and the one cent slots. I’m going to start calling the slots a different name, that of an old girlfriend, thereby making it easier to avoid them. 2 1/2 hours later we were seated.

The table was mostly old guys. I figured they were regulars. They were fairly easy marks. There were also a few younger guys. One was a squat mouth breather dressed in quasi-gangsta sports gear who went through about $600 in two hours. The other, sitting to my immediate right was a calling station who limped almost every hand and called nearly every pre-flop raise. He smelled like dead fish and had a wallet full of $50 bills. Finally, there was one more young guy who was a good player. Being to my left two seats, I proceeded with caution in hands with him. As a matter of fact, I was playing what my poker buddy Alfonzo calls a “trench warfare” strategy. If I’m gonna stick my head up above the top of the trench, I’d better be firing a Howitzer. At any rate, after about 3 hours of play, I was up $150. this without ever getting a piece of the two younger fish.

Eventually, the dead fish guy left and was replaced by a well-groomed young guy. He was an aggressive player, and although I had never played with him, he knew the dealers and they him on a rather personal basis. First hand, he came out firing and showed pocket Qs. With him on my right and the other solid player a bit to my left, I folded most everything.

Guy to my right raises $12. I look down and see AK off and re-raise to $24. He makes it $50 and I call. Flop comes with a K and low cards. I bet enough to just about put him all in and he goes all in. Pocket Ks. I know, I know. I misplayed that hand horribly. But why? I was impatient and arrogant. The $50 reraise should have been the tip off that I was beat from the get-go.

I had about $80 in chips left, so I bought another $100 and dug in again, or so I thought. The table started to change players. The guy to my left racked up a nice profit and was replaced by an Asian guy. His friend sat to the right of Mr. GQ. AK again, mid position. $12, two callers. Nothing on flop, all low, so I make a continuation bet Asian guy to my left calls. Nothing on turn but board looks like a str8. I slow way up and by the river I’m out of the pot and out about $50. The rest of the night is very similar to this, I buy another $100 in chips, and new players come to the table late and hit with hands like K6 off. I’m down to my last $45 bucks and lose it when my KQ suited, top pair loses to 9 10 off, two pair.

I have a hard time sleeping because I wonder if I just shouldn’t go home in the morning. I wonder if I should give up poker. I don’t, and get a table about noon.

Again, the pickins are easy. In no time at all I’ve doubled my buy-in of $200. Incredibly clueless players. Husband and wife tourists come sit. I figure them to be moderate players, as they seem to be slightly bleeding for a couple hours with $100 stacks. Husband is to my right two seats and raises from mid-late position and I’m in the small blind with AK off again. Flop brings an A and he goes all in. I call. He has AK suited and narrowly misses a flush. We split. A bit later I raise from early position with AK off and he calls. Flop comes K Q x, I bet the pot and he goes all in with about $45 left. I call, knowing full well he has KQ. Of course I’m hoping to spike an A. Again, I’m just a bit too cocky for my own good. I leave shortly thereafter, down $200 for the $600 I brought with me.

Hindsight. What is the issue? I’m playing too fast, not considering what the possible outcomes of hands can be. I’m reacting, not analyzing. Is it because this trip was the next day after I wrote my little rant in another post. In fact, I was still processing the previous night’s Poker Academy fiasco as I was driving to the casino. I knew it might be a factor and also knew that I had to somehow rise above it in order to play effectively for the real deal. Plus, I still am trying too hard to increase my bankroll. Tilt is sometimes a subtle thing; right now it wasn’t wearing any disguise.

With the first round of play, when I was making money, the previous night on PA was out of my head. With the first bad call, I was back to tilt because my bankroll was being threatened. I was unaware of the spiral that was to follow, I had JJ UTG and after my $10 bet, an old guy at the table announces to everyone that I have JJ. WTF? Instead of getting nutso all-in, I’m weak tight at this point. Pocket Qs are also no good…or are they? By the end of the night, I really don’t have a clue.

I am reading Feeny’s “Inside the Poker Mind.” My game may need more than that at this point. I may have to reassess my skill level for it seems that I am too aggressive and not loose enough…

OK, I have to remind myself that I have been playing poker only for a year and a half… that’s all. The mistakes I am making are those that any new player makes. The trick is to not make the same mistakes over and over, or go broke anytime soon. There is so much about this game I do not yet understand. Each week there is a new problem, a new set of circumstances that I must analyze, either in the way I played a hand, or the way I presented myself at the table. And dammit, that’s what makes this all worthwhile!

Such a quick turn-around in attitude? I always come back to the fact that I love this game. In a way, it’s like staying with the old girlfriend, sticking it out until I get it right, until it works. Yet, I cannot put poker and the slots in the same category. The slots give nothing back, or if they do, persist and they will take it, and more, away again. Poker is different. I can learn how to have a better “relationship” with the game, and as I have seen on numerous occasions, it will reward me for the effort. And should I misstep, it will let me know in no uncertain terms, and then forgive….say “I know you can do better” and give me a second chance. No, poker is more like my dear wife (the poker widow).

Study and meditate, bastin. Study. Meditate.

bastin

Monday, July 14, 2008

Oops, oops and more oops

Labor Day Pays – with a lot more work to do

Dreams DO Come True

At the risk....

Another Tale from the Trenches

What bastin Should Not Do

The AK is dead, long live the AK

Other folks worth a gander

Blog Archive

Posted: Sun Nov 18, 2007 10:47 am

I told a joke at a table I was playing the other night. It went like this: Knock knock. Who’s there? Pocket Kings and Pocket Aces. Pocket Kings and Pocket Aces! Wooo hooo! Party time! Come on in! What I didn’t see was the suited connectors that snuck in the back door while I was at the front. By the end of the night, those sooteds had drank all of my good booze and put cigarette burns in my carpet. This little scenario pretty much sums up my experience the last couple of days while playing at Full Tilt Poker. I have had the above combinations perhaps ten times in perhaps 400 hands. Each time, I have either garnered little or more often, lost my stack. Only one time did my hand, KK, lose to AA, and once my AA lost to QQQQ. All of the other times I have lost to suited connectors. Essentially, after grinding away for several days to make $125, it was lost in a matter of four or five hands, both in ring and tourney play. OK, so I’m having a bad run. I’ve had these before. My last one at Poker Academy lasted ten months, and some readers will recall the blighted games I related from my casino experiences. I am happy to say that the PAO slump has diminished, due in no small way to the re-establishment of a value for PAX (read between the lines on this). Sadly, my casino days are over for the most part, so redemption on that front will have to be postponed. (I’m broke.) As for Full Tilt, I have been in this position a number of times at that sight, and I am sure that I will recover somewhat by pulling back to playing the micro tables and small tourneys. Or not. The bad run may continue until I am broke there as well. Another joke: Full Tilt Poker called and they want their money back. However, if I do go broke at FTP, it will be their loss. How so? And why should they care? Simple: rake. I have no idea how much I have paid in rake to FTP over the last year. I started with $150, and with their matching bonus had another $150 to play with during that time. I have had huge swings compared to my bankroll. I currently have $100, and have been up as high as $400. Generally I hover around my original $150. If I had to guess, I’d say I’ve played about 15,000 hands in ring alone. That’s a fair amount of rake. As way of comparison, in the last year at PAO I’ve played about 70,000 hands, and during the bad run, my rake paid was out-pacing my winning by about 10 to 1. As recently as last moth I was negative dollars won with over $3,000 in rake paid. Big single losses will do that. It’s considerably better now, but I’m still behind about $900. In that I have not been able to accumulate a bankroll at FTP, I would imagine they have made a lot more money from my play than the $150 they gave me as a sign-up bonus. Rake is the silent pilferer. And one more: If one slightly crosses one’s eye when looking at the Full Tilt logo on their felt, it becomes Evil Tilt Poker. Such an observation can lead one astray fairly quickly. Conspiracy theory time: a quick profile of my nick shows that I’ll push to the showdown with a big pocket pair. So give him his pair and load someone else with a spoiler. Knock him down so he has to keep playing to “break even” or better. In today’s world, computers can do anything, right? So why not utilize such a strategy against dupes like me. This paranoid approach is easy to swallow because it allows me to avoid analyzing my play, and more than likely, keeps me repeating the same mistakes just to prove I am right: “How could you play those cards with my raise UTG? You must have known how the cards would come.“ (I have seen players type such things.) Sure, FTP makes their rake. My opponents make more. So, the question remains: how do I avoid going broke with big pairs? Is this the age-old question of the novice? I worry that betting too much pre-flop will give a way my hand. Say I come in 6 or 7 times the big blind from under the gun, or after several limpers, come in late for the same amount….what does this tell the 9 10 suited that came in early? He calls and hits two pair on the flop. Barring a set, I’m doomed and may not start to realize it until after the bet on the turn. (And I don’t care what anyone says about getting my money in with the best hand. As sure as God made little green apples, as soon as a loose player looking for a cooler doubles up, he leaves the table. Your optimal play won’t get that money back later in the game.) I appreciate the way Sklansky approaches this: if the only cards that can beat you are a 5 and a 7, if the betting pattern says that what your opponent has, no matter how unlikely, rest assured, your opponent holds those cards. It puts big pocket pairs into perspective. They are not the nuts. A broadway on a non-flush board is the nuts as is an ace high flush on a non-paired, uncoordinated board; and add to that the reminder that trips are not a set and that two pair often suck. These are the mantras that I must continue to chant, not “RIGGED.” That way I may stand a chance of holding onto some of the money that FTP has so graciously allowed me to win.

Posted: Wed Sep 05, 2007 1:56 pm

Hello dear friends. This past weekend was a three-day holiday for most working folks here in the States. My dear wife and I didn’t want to feel left out, so we decided that after a full day in the fields Saturday, we would take it easy and pursue activities other than farming on Sunday. As far as I was concerned, I was going to play poker. The only thing to figure out was whether to drive out to the casino or play on at FTP. It wasn’t an easy decision. As some readers may recall, my live bankroll has taken some nasty hits recently, including one trip about which I didn’t even bother to post as it was just another cracked AA & KK tale of woe. I had about $600 left, a bit too short for serious 1/2 tables. On the other hand, my FTP roll is at about $200, which would allow me plenty of room to play $5 tourneys and some micro ring. In the end, I chose the former with the main rationale being that this was surely a big weekend at the casino, summer’s last hurrah, as it were, and there was a strong likelihood of some easier money being at the tables. I arrived a bit later than I had wanted to and the poker room was jam-packed. All seventeen tables were full and the waiting lists were longer than I had ever seen them. When I signed up I was number 15 on the list for 1/2 NL, so I also signed up for 3/6 Limit, number 7 on that list. Nevertheless, the wait for the 3/6 was only about 5 minutes, so I sat down with $160 and some time to kill while waiting for 1/2. I recognize a couple of the regular Limit players at the table. There is a husband/wife pair who is there every time I go to the casino, so I assume they are there a lot. Neither have much of a stack. There is also a young guy whom I recognize only because of his ball cap. He doesn’t have many chips either. The biggest stacks are in front of two older gentlemen, one who is really ancient and seems to be on the brink and needs to be prompted by the dealer when it is his turn to act. As the game wears on, he is making spectacular lucky hits. The other big stack looks to be relatively new to retirement, and despite his number of chips, seems to think he is beat in each hand he is involved. There were others at the table, one I can’t remember, and finally another married couple who played fairly straightforward, called a lot and went through a comparatively large some of money for a 3/6 game. I took some of it in unremarkable hands. One hand stands out. I was in the BB and the wife from the “regulars”, sitting two to my left, limps in. Several other limpers bring it to me. I have K8 off and check. The flop comes 282 and I check. The woman bets $3. OK, I should back up here a bit. I have an impression of this woman. Her posture is very rigid, contrasted to her husband who seems very laid back. She likes to talk between hands but becomes very quiet when she’s in a hand. Her glasses are not reading glasses, but they’re perched on her nose in a manner that they might as well be. She’s bookish. I just know she’s a liberal (as I am) and I can also tell she’s takes her game very seriously. There’s one more caller before it gets back to me and I raise it another $3. She re-raises, the other player folds and I call. She’s either got an 8 as well, a higher pair, nines perhaps, or A2 suited; and if she has pocket 2’s, well, she wouldn’t have re-raised. The turn is another 8. I check, she bets and I call. The river is a Q, I bet, she raises, I re-raise. She calls and says, I have the boat. I reply, Sorry sister, I have an 8, at which point she lights into me about making the donkey play on the flop. How could I call her first re-raise? My reply was that my initial raise was to see where I was at. At this point the husband chimes in: That’s OK, more action is good. Finally she pulls out the poker cliché: “Well, I hope you keep playing like that.” I will, thank you. Maybe she isn’t as bookish as I first thought, for even a cursory reading on limit reveals that I had played my hand correctly, except perhaps, I could have gotten even more money out of her, but I doubt it. Soon after that, a seat opened at a 1/2 table and I left up $40. Second hand in I had AA against pocket 10’s. He folded after the flop. A couple hands later I had AK in the big blind, bet $16 and got three callers, including the small blind. An A came on the flop with two clubs. I had the Ace of clubs. I bet the pot and everyone folded except the small blind. Another club on the turn. She checks as do I. River is a blank and she bets $30. I pay her off. She shows 35 clubs. I mutter, I thought I just left a Limit table. She says, in broken English, “I have flush.” I’m down over $100 and re-buy to $200 again. I say to myself, Keep playing like that, sister. Well, she kept playing like that, chasing but not hitting, only I didn’t get a piece of the $200 she lost before leaving. The table was a good mix of regulars who had stacks, and tourists. I settled in for a grind and made my way up about $100, where I remained for the greater portion of the day and evening. I had plenty of time to get a read on the players, and it was the regulars to whom I paid the most attention, for I had never played them before. They were 2/5 players playing 1/2. One guy was a rock behind sunglasses. If he was in the hand, it was for a good reason. I saw him make some tough lay downs, and rarely did he win a sizable pot. I was in a hand once with him. I was again in the BB with AQ suited. He had limped mid-early. I raised and he called. A queen came on the flop and I bet it and he raised 1.5 times the pot. I said, Okay brother and folded. Kings? I asked. He just nodded. He and another player had been at the table longer than I had. The other player was also a regular, or so I assumed as quite a few people came up to say hi to him. While seemingly ready to fall asleep at any given moment, this guy played 70% of his hands. Over the course of the day I came to call him Mr. Two Pair. If he could limp in, he would; if someone bet before or after him, he called; if he was first to act post-flop, he’d bet $10; and if he stayed in post-flop, he would call almost every hand down. He often showed top pair, lousy kicker or two pair. When I first sat down, he had about $600 in front of him; yet when a passerby commented on his stack, he remarked that he was just about even. I personally received a fair mount of his stack later in the evening with a set of Queens and felted him and another short stack when a late limp with 34d gave me 2 pair. More on Mr. Two Pair a little later. I had been playing a few speculative hands, partly because of Mr. Two Pair to my left but mostly because the table was otherwise fairly tight. Short-stacks came and went throughout the day, and players racked up 3 x their buy-ins and called it a day. I wasn’t in a hurry, the table didn’t have any real danger that I could see, and I pretty much told myself to stay out of big hands unless I had the absolute nuts. By 12:30 Monday morning I had about $400, ahead $140, when suddenly a few new players completely changed the table. Joe buys in. Joe is a Very-regular. Everyone seems to know him, or acts like they know him well. He likes to talk. He sees himself as table captain, often interrupting the dealer as pots are being figured out. The dealers are familiar with this tendency and tell him to butt out. Other than that, he seems like a nice enough guy. Joe likes to go all in on the turn. .Joe triples up in short order. He’s two to my right, so I’m in pretty good shape. I tell myself, nothing crazy with him. There’s a new player to my immediate right who is bending Joe’s ear about a woman he’s there with and the bad beats they’ve been trading all weekend. He’s going on and on and on… Joe gets up “to move his car” and the guy turns to me. He smells like a distillery. He’s losing money right and left (see 34d above) while complaining about the woman. Each time he loses, he says something to the effect, “Man, it sure is costing me a lot of money to get a read on this table.” Pretty soon, the woman who he is with comes to the table and they start a betting war. Between them they leave about $1200 on the table. I’ve collected about $200 of it. Yet, this is just one drama that is happening at the table. There have been some bad beats: a huge pot when A9d vs QQ, flops 9 9 10 4 Q, and some monster hands like 10s pushed and unimproved vs As. The table is loose and angry with grudges to be settled. And I’m just a teeny bit sorry to say that I am responsible for a portion of it. I’m in the BB with J9d and get to see a flop, which is 9h 10d 8d. I check and raise. There are two callers, the drunk and a guy with expensive wire rims and a cowboy hat. He’s a player. Probably works at Intel or someplace like that: all hat, no cattle. His black t shirt under a white dress shirt annoys me for some reason. The turn is a blank, I bet 1/4 of the pot and the cowboy comes over the top for $80. The drunk folds and I go into the tank. Actually, all I do is count up what’s in the pot, and that takes me a bit of time. I have $55 to call and there’s about $100 in the pot so far, not counting my $25. I call. The guy is incredulous and says before the river, “I’m checking because you must be sitting on some kind of monster. “ Now, it’s the way he said that that makes all of the difference. He was angry I had called. He wasn’t toying with me, to be sure. Here was another person who took their game seriously and was pretty darn sure of himself. The River was a J, which was an OK card, yet I checked and showed my 2 pair. I have no idea what he had because he mucked and exclaimed “How could you call that bet!?” I said that I was getting at least 2/1 on my money, to which he informed me I was a 4 to 1 dog until the river. Well, dear friends, a pair, an open-ended and a flush draw? How many outs can you count? The fact that I won with a measly two pair tells me the boy had a high pocket pair, and not Jacks. However, this hand would come back to haunt me. By now I was sitting pretty with about $750 in front of me. This time I’m in the SB and I hold Kings. Three limpers and I raise it up to $16. Joe is my only caller in the cut-off. The flop comes 10 4 2 rainbow and I bet the pot . Joe comes over the top with $100 more. I call, hoping to see a King on the turn. Blank. I check and Joe goes all in. Of course I can’t call. He’s representing a set and with my previous call, he knows I have a big pocket pair. He’s says he had a set, but none of the other regulars have believed him in previous hands when he has made this move. I too am left t wonder, and this is why: Joe was at the table when I played that hand against the cowboy. He saw me check on the river. Yes, I was unsure as to just how good my hand was, but I let the cowboy and everyone else at the table, see my hand. A bit too tight-weak. I began to get the feeling that Joe had exploited this and merely out-played me. Could I have played this hand differently? What if I had just limped with the Kings? I might have been able to save some money. Or who knows, I may have been able to outplay a bluff….if it was a bluff. I stuck around for a little while longer as the drunk was still at the table, but most folks at the table now had monster stacks and the room was emptying fast. From here on out it would be a game of diminishing returns for this relative newbie. I racked up, which actually made the table break up and consolidate with another. I went out to the car to catch a little shut-eye. Like I could sleep! After some lengthy tossing and turning and rivering, I went back to the poker room. Only Joe, the kid with the Queens and Mr. Two Pair remained from the old table. Mr. Two Pair now had a comparatively huge stack in front of him. I bought back into the game. Mr. TP was still playing his game. I saw amazing rivers hit for him. Yet, soon, even he appeared to have had enough and started to rack up about $700, still playing while doing so. He couldn’t help himself, and in the next six or seven hands, he lost $150. I am certain he left way down for the day. An hour after sitting down, I’d made another $100 but then my eyes started shutting, so I cashed out. I had about 2.5 times my buy-in and had caught a little ray of hope for the future. But I also know that I’m far from out of the woods. My bankroll is still fragile, and there are players out there who have 10 and 20 times more playing experience and bankroll than I do. The upside of this is that I learned a bit from them this day. It is not just winning, it is how one wins. The nuances are key, and not surprisingly the most difficult aspect of the game. Well, summer is unofficially now over. The tourists have gone home and I am left to imagine what the casino will be like in the off season. Local sharks circling for any little scraps they can pick up, perhaps taking pieces of each others’ tail in the process. It’ll come down to what kind of shark one is: Nurse, Sand or Great White. I think I may hang out at FTP instead.

Posted: Mon Jul 30, 2007 10:23 pm

Thursday night at the poker table was pretty unremarkable. And, as Thursday turned into Friday, my table became short-handed as players went off to home or to a motel room. My stack had dwindled as well and I contemplated calling it a night. One of the players still remaining said, “Now’s the time to hit the bad beat jackpot. Short-handed we’d get a bigger cut.” At this casino one has to be beat quads over quads or better to get a piece of the jackpot. It was now above $56,000. A healthy amount. Dealers were saying that it was due to hit. Although I don’t concern myself with it while I play, I’m aware of the bad beat jackpot. Every time I visit the casino, I check to see that the amount is still intact. I could use a new truck. But alas, the table soon broke and I ended up at another 1/2 table for a short while, short-stacked and looking for a good hole cards. After folding two straights draws that hit with the odds to call, I knew it was time to get some sleep. It was way late. Yet, as usual, sleep didn’t come easily. I had drunk too much coffee throughout the evening, plus I had several hands to replay. Eventually, I could feel the nod starting, and to hurry them a long, I said my prayer: “Help me endure.” ****** I was dealt pocket 8s and was able to limp in from middle position. Only the big blind stayed. The flop came 8 8 9. The BB bet and I smooth called with the nuts. The turn was another 9. The BB checked and so did I. The river was another 9, the big blind bet out and I went all in. The big blind called. He had quad 9s. The jackpot! Yet somehow, the hand didn’t count, and I lost my stack. This is the dream that woke me up 3 hours later. Well, there was no way I was going to be able to go back to sleep after that, so I made some coffee, brushed my teeth, pulled on my “Jesus is my river card” t-shirt and headed down to the poker room. On the way down, I said a little prayer: “Jesus, I know you don’t like this t-shirt, but I hope you overlook it today. I know you don’t answer prayers for poker or the stock market, so if you’d just, as always, help me endure.” Another player from the previous night was in the motel lobby checking out of his room. He’s a regular. I followed him out the door. “Morning, “ I said, “Heading back over?” “Yep. Another day at the office.” “Yeah, me too, especially after dreaming that I won the bad beat jackpot. Well, not winning it, because somehow my quad eights against quad nines didn’t pay. There were 3 nines on the board, so something must have gone wrong.” “Pray he has A 9 then, because 7 9 won’t cut it.” I had betrayed my rookie status. I had to wait a while to get a table. 1/2 wasn’t a high priority, plus a tourney had started and monopolized most of the dealers. Eventually, however, a table started and we got going. The table had several regulars and a couple young guys I had never seen before last night. They were friends…probably tourists. Both were wearing sunglasses, yet one wore his on his forehead instead of in front of his eyes. One of his eyes was cock-eyed, an esotrope (wall-eye) or lazy eye. The sunglasses must have been cosmetic because he never dropped them down. There was nothing remarkable about this game. A lot of limping, and there was one old guy who kept pushing, as did the guy with the eye, obviously taking advantage of a tight table. They started to build stacks. I waited for a hand while in the back of my mind was the dream. Eye-guy comes in from early position with a raise. I look down to find —YES— eights. I call. It is hard to maintain my composure. This is it! It could be! Yes! The flop comes all low cards, no eights or nines to be found. The guy bets just shy of the pot and I make a strong call. Turn is an A, he checks, I make a feeler and he folds. No jackpot but not a bad pot either. Maybe I’ll get 8s again. Several hands later I’m in the big blind. Eye-guy limps and his buddy raises from the small blind. I have pocket 9s and call, as does Eye-guy. Flop is 10 10 9. Small blind puts out a good-sized bet and I smooth call. Eye guy makes it $100 or so to go. Perfect! SB folds, and inasmuch as only one hand can beat me at this point, I go all in and get an immediate call. He shows 10 J unsuited. The turn is an 8. Hello little 8, I say to myself. Come to protect my hand have you? I dreamed about you last night. Did you know that? And, as I’m having this little flight of fantasy, a collective ”Oh NO!” arises from the players at the table. I saw the Jack come on the river, but it didn’t sink in quite as fast for me as it did the others. Eye-guy says, “Sorry buddy.” I didn’t respond. He had me covered. I got up from my seat, said “Always a pleasure,” and left. On my way out I tried to tell my bad beat story to a couple staff. You could tell they were unsympathetic One said, “That’s happened to me too. You’ll get over it.” Hell, it has happened to everyone who has played enough poker. In a way, it’s a good thing, for it says that you’ve seen enough flops for both the beautiful and the ugly to hit. But this one stung a bit more than usual. For one thing, I didn’t have enough cash left to buy in a full $200 again, and I didn’t want to stay in short. No, I didn’t want to stay at all. And secondly, these last two days of running bad, added to the previous two weeks of bad cards and plays had left me with a fairly paltry bankroll. I knew I wouldn’t be taking a seat again for quite some time. And thirdly, my dream had betrayed me. Or had it? The Oracle at Delphi’s prophesies were cryptic, and being such left just enough room for the seekers to get it wrong. My sure thing was certainly a bad beat without a pot. I’ve thought about this hand quite a bit in the last few days. What could Eye-guy think I had? In that I had called the small blind’s raise, an astute player could put me only on 2 or 3 hands: A 10, K 10 or pocket 9s. I came to think that this guy must not have been that good of a player. Then I recalled the hand with pocket 8s. I showed strength throughout and took the pot. Did he think I had bluffed? If so, he may have been calling my all in based on that. Perhaps my 8s had been my undoing after all.

Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 8:16 pm

Poker Academy Online #37,197,755 No Limit Texas Holdem ($0.5/$1 NL) Table Emerald August 03, 2007 - 01:51:35 (PDT) 1} bastin $298.35 5s As 2) Louis64 (sitting out) 3) hommell $138.80 ?? ?? 4) MojoKing $93.30 ?? ?? 5) sbstar $44.25 ?? ?? 6) fouine $89.80 ?? ?? 7) Brian Brain * $137.35 5d 3d biddi $50.15 3c 6h 10) TRIPLEX $112.15 ?? ?? biddi posts small blind $0.50 TRIPLEX posts big blind $1 bastin calls $1 hommell folds MojoKing folds sbstar folds fouine folds Brian Brain calls $1 biddi calls $0.50 TRIPLEX checks FLOP: 3s 8s Ad biddi checks TRIPLEX checks bastin bets $4 Brian Brain calls $4 biddi calls $4 TRIPLEX folds TURN: 3s 8s Ad 3h biddi checks bastin bets $8 Brian Brain raises $124.35 (all-in) biddi calls $45.15 (all-in) At this point I am seriously considering folding. Someone has A3, or at least trips. I'm beat and I know it. Then someone types in "coward," to which I type "lol" and... bastin calls $124.35 bastin shows 5s As Brian Brain shows 5d 3d biddi shows 3c 6h RIVER: 3s 8s Ad 3h Ac bastin wins $174.40 with a Full House, Aces over Threes bastin wins $148.45 with a Full House, Aces over Threes $3 raked.

Posted: Sat Jul 28, 2007 12:18 am

This is the end; my dearest friends, the end. I promise this will be the final bad beat story for a while, the reason for which will become shortly apparent. Another Thursday evening/Friday trip to the casino. AQ 2 pair drawn out or beat by God knows what on the river. Top pair being flushed out on, without odds. Other regular informs me the two guys I was sitting between were using eye signals. Informs me that was why he left our table early and didn't see fit to tell me or the floor about it until long after they had left. High drawing hands going nowhere with the odds to call. Good old AK, which I'm proud to say I folded at the appropriate times. UTG KK, flop 3KQ rainbow, slowplay; pair of fives hits runner runner for flush. A limper or two. SB raises, I call in BB with 9s. One caller. Flop is 10 10 9. SB makes small bet, I smooth call. Other player raises it up 100, I go all in. He calls, J 10. Jack on the river. Sure, he apologized. I gently pushed my chair in and said, "It's been a pleasure." In the last 24 hours I have probably played some of the best poker of my short career. Unfortunately it was during a "bad run" and my bankroll is now at a level that prohibits any casino play. Yes, it has been a pleasure, if somewhat stressful. It's been a pleasure because I have been afforded the luxury and latitude to make these weekly trips. My dear spouse calls my bank my "learning money." Bless her heart. That would be just fine if I didn't adhere to some fundamentals of the game, bankroll management in this particular instance. So, for the foreseeable future, I'm done. I believe there are some salmon and steelhead that need catching.....

Posted: Tue Jul 17, 2007 6:09 am

Hello dear friends. It occurs to me that these posts about my casino experiences may suffer from a score of social missteps. First of all, I note that posts by others of similar adventures have a bit less emotional turmoil (apart from maybe pokergirl’s , yet that’s to be expected from my sister). It is true that I am prone to a high level of self-disclosure. In this context, it can be camouflaged within a bad beat story; yet my intention here is not to bitch and moan, or to seek pity. I do tend to let my emotional state get the better of me at the table, even if I don’t think so at the time, and I pay the price. This week is a case in point, and I would hope that an exploration of the how and whys are instructive not only to myself, but to others as well. With that said, let us call this essay: “Confessions of an Adequate Poker Player.” I was done with farming rather early Saturday evening as the old leg was acting up again. As I sat on the porch reading Mason Malmuth’s “Essays #3” I began getting the urge to play instead of read about poker. I thought about PA or Full Tilt but our DSL is quite taxed on weekend nights. My ping goes nuts. When my dear wife came in from putting the ducks in, I asked, “What would you say if I went to the casino tonight, sleep in the car, play again tomorrow and be home in the early evening?” That’s a bit encapsulated but the gist is there, to which she replied, “Sure.” Bless her heart. The poker room was full. I signed up for 1/2 and spotted a player who I’ve talked to a few times and asked him how his table was. Without any hesitation, he pointed to the guy to his left and said, “He’s an idiot. And you know how hard it is to get an idiot off of a hand.” I took that to mean to watch out for the tourists tonight. Being a good player at a soft table is sometimes not all that it’s cracked up to be. After a short while, I was sat at a different table. First hand I get pocket queens and reraise from middle position after an initial small raise. Flop is all low cards, two spades. I have Q of spades. I bet the pot and initial raiser calls me, so I back down on turn and bet half the pot on a blank. River is two of spades, she checks, I check. She shows KJ spades. I’m a bit touchy right away, but say to myself I’ll get that 1/3 of my stack back. A few hands later I get to check in the BB with 9 10 suited. Flop is small with a 10. I bet pot. Two callers, including the same woman. Both follow me to the river, where a Q hits. Checks all around. She has Q. 45 minutes into my game and I have to buy chips. Not a good start. Eventually this woman gets a taste of her own medicine when her AA gets cracked and she leaves. I limp in the SB with K8 diamonds. Flop comes with two diamonds but I check. A small bet is made somewhere in the middle of the pack, UTG and I call. Turn is a K and I bet out. UTG raises and other player folds. It’s about 3 to 1 to call. I’ve played with this guy quite a bit and he says to me, “I’ve got a made hand. You don’t want to call.” That says to me he has a set by the way the board looks, and I’d say it’s tens. I say, “I have outs. I almost have to call.” I almost folded. River was a blank. He goes all in after I check. I fold. As he shows me his Tens, he says to me, “Man, I tried to tell you. You’re the last person I want to be in a hand with at this table.” Even though he respects me, I know I’ll never get that money back from him if he tries to avoid me. In fact, he racks up fairly soon and I buy another stack of $100. By 4 in the morning, despite some regular 2/5 players at my table, I’m about back to even, maybe $20 or so up, so I leave and try to get some sleep in the car. Two hours of tossing and turning and dreams about Q 10 off and I go back inside. The only 1/2 table open is filled with the all-night regulars. It takes about 2 hours to lose $300 on a lower flush and a Broadway that gets mauled by a flush. I get up from the table. I have to chill for a bit. By 11 o’clock the room is jumping and they open a new 1/2 table. A fresh start. The table has a couple of old-timers who are on a first name basis with the staff, a couple young kids, a few others I’ve never seen before, and two folks whom I’ve only played with once. The long and short of it is that I make some spectacular bluffs to win some big pots, lose most of it chasing straights, and win a couple more massive pots. I go home down $200 for the session. Stoked on way too much coffee, as I drove I began to think about the subject for this week’s missive. Initially, I thought I’d write about the bluffs, and how important it was that I was a stranger at the table who seemed like a solid player. I then started to replay the session and review how it was I came to lose money. It came down to the chasing. I had to ask myself why I chased. It all pointed back to that first hand with the Queens. I did not shake the feeling that I had to play catch-up poker. And once I isolated the three hands I chased and calculated how much I had lost, the irony hit me: had I not chased, I would have come home up at least $100 or so. It still comes down to the delicate status of my bankroll. After a stellar week last week, I was hoping to well this week. The more I am able to build my bank, the more comfortable I can feel at the table and not take chances. I know… it’s backward thinking in that I took unreasonable chances anyway. But now I had tangible proof that chasing makes no sense whatsoever. I used to say “maybe I’ll get lucky” are the four worse words for a poker player to utter. I have also preached patience to fellow players who express frustration. It is time for me to re-acquaint myself those attitudes.

Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2007 6:26 am

Hello dear friends. Another overnight at the casino. Rented a room this time, although I can’t say I slept very well. I arrived at the casino about 5 pm. There were no 1/2 tables open yet there was a lengthy list so I figured there wouldn’t be too long of a wait, so I went and played some video poker and the one cent slots. I’m going to start calling the slots a different name, that of an old girlfriend, thereby making it easier to avoid them. 2 1/2 hours later we were seated. The table was mostly old guys. I figured they were regulars. They were fairly easy marks. There were also a few younger guys. One was a squat mouth breather dressed in quasi-gangsta sports gear who went through about $600 in two hours. The other, sitting to my immediate right was a calling station who limped almost every hand and called nearly every pre-flop raise. He smelled like dead fish and had a wallet full of $50 bills. Finally, there was one more young guy who was a good player. Being to my left two seats, I proceeded with caution in hands with him. As a matter of fact, I was playing what my poker buddy Alfonzo calls a “trench warfare” strategy. If I’m gonna stick my head up above the top of the trench, I’d better be firing a Howitzer. At any rate, after about 3 hours of play, I was up $150. this without ever getting a piece of the two younger fish. Eventually, the dead fish guy left and was replaced by a well-groomed young guy. He was an aggressive player, and although I had never played with him, he knew the dealers and they him on a rather personal basis. First hand, he came out firing and showed pocket Qs. With him on my right and the other solid player a bit to my left, I folded most everything. Guy to my right raises $12. I look down and see AK off and re-raise to $24. He makes it $50 and I call. Flop comes with a K and low cards. I bet enough to just about put him all in and he goes all in. Pocket Ks. I know, I know. I misplayed that hand horribly. But why? I was impatient and arrogant. The $50 reraise should have been the tip off that I was beat from the get-go. I had about $80 in chips left, so I bought another $100 and dug in again, or so I thought. The table started to change players. The guy to my left racked up a nice profit and was replaced by an Asian guy. His friend sat to the right of Mr. GQ. AK again, mid position. $12, two callers. Nothing on flop, all low, so I make a continuation bet Asian guy to my left calls. Nothing on turn but board looks like a str8. I slow way up and by the river I’m out of the pot and out about $50. The rest of the night is very similar to this, I buy another $100 in chips, and new players come to the table late and hit with hands like K6 off. I’m down to my last $45 bucks and lose it when my KQ suited, top pair loses to 9 10 off, two pair. I have a hard time sleeping because I wonder if I just shouldn’t go home in the morning. I wonder if I should give up poker. I don’t, and get a table about noon. Again, the pickins are easy. In no time at all I’ve doubled my buy-in of $200. Incredibly clueless players. Husband and wife tourists come sit. I figure them to be moderate players, as they seem to be slightly bleeding for a couple hours with $100 stacks. Husband is to my right two seats and raises from mid-late position and I’m in the small blind with AK off again. Flop brings an A and he goes all in. I call. He has AK suited and narrowly misses a flush. We split. A bit later I raise from early position with AK off and he calls. Flop comes K Q x, I bet the pot and he goes all in with about $45 left. I call, knowing full well he has KQ. Of course I’m hoping to spike an A. Again, I’m just a bit too cocky for my own good. I leave shortly thereafter, down $200 for the $600 I brought with me. Hindsight. What is the issue? I’m playing too fast, not considering what the possible outcomes of hands can be. I’m reacting, not analyzing. Is it because this trip was the next day after I wrote my little rant in another post. In fact, I was still processing the previous night’s Poker Academy fiasco as I was driving to the casino. I knew it might be a factor and also knew that I had to somehow rise above it in order to play effectively for the real deal. Plus, I still am trying too hard to increase my bankroll. Tilt is sometimes a subtle thing; right now it wasn’t wearing any disguise. With the first round of play, when I was making money, the previous night on PA was out of my head. With the first bad call, I was back to tilt because my bankroll was being threatened. I was unaware of the spiral that was to follow, I had JJ UTG and after my $10 bet, an old guy at the table announces to everyone that I have JJ. WTF? Instead of getting nutso all-in, I’m weak tight at this point. Pocket Qs are also no good…or are they? By the end of the night, I really don’t have a clue. I am reading Feeny’s “Inside the Poker Mind.” My game may need more than that at this point. I may have to reassess my skill level for it seems that I am too aggressive and not loose enough… OK, I have to remind myself that I have been playing poker only for a year and a half… that’s all. The mistakes I am making are those that any new player makes. The trick is to not make the same mistakes over and over, or go broke anytime soon. There is so much about this game I do not yet understand. Each week there is a new problem, a new set of circumstances that I must analyze, either in the way I played a hand, or the way I presented myself at the table. And dammit, that’s what makes this all worthwhile! Such a quick turn-around in attitude? I always come back to the fact that I love this game. In a way, it’s like staying with the old girlfriend, sticking it out until I get it right, until it works. Yet, I cannot put poker and the slots in the same category. The slots give nothing back, or if they do, persist and they will take it, and more, away again. Poker is different. I can learn how to have a better “relationship” with the game, and as I have seen on numerous occasions, it will reward me for the effort. And should I misstep, it will let me know in no uncertain terms, and then forgive….say “I know you can do better” and give me a second chance. No, poker is more like my dear wife (the poker widow). Study and meditate, bastin. Study. Meditate.