Up $680... lessons on poker etiquette

Write some in the blog, and then promise to myself of how I'm going to play more patient. I get there and it all kind of goes out the window. I sit down to a cramped table in between the dealer and the Staker. Staker has his chips in a rack in my space, and I politely ask him to move to give me some space, to which he begrudgingly does, and gives me an annoyed “is that ok?” To which I do my best to politely thank him.

On my first big hand I raise with KQ, Staker calls. Flop = KJT, I bet again, he calls. Turn = X. I check, he bets, I call. I only have $600 or so left in front of me after this. The river is also a blank, and he puts me all in. I insta-call him, to which he says “I've got nothing.” I turn over the cards, don't look at him. It takes him a long time to fold, at which point I've kind of got the feeling that he's slow rolling me, but he isn't and he mucks. I guess he was just pissed that I'd give him such little respect to call him on a hand like that. I say nothing, I don't look at him, he says nothing to me. I am not sure why this guy hates me so much. He's so friendly and talkative with everyone else at the table, with the entire staff of the casino, and when ever I say anything in his conversation, I get ignored. But, whatever, I've resolved to avoid engaging him in any manner that I don't have to, but also to go out of my way to be nothing but polite to him.

My next big hand I have 88, and I try to make a couple superstar calls on this tight asian dude, on a board of like 442 or something, but he has 99, which I don't realize until I've given him $1800. Very very stupid. I had no reason to be making these calls on him. I'd seen him play nothing but good cards in the few times I've played with him, and so there was no reason. My other mistake in this hand was not going all in on the river. He was obviously not happy with me raising, and to not take advantage of this was also a very bad play, I mean, if I'm going to play these cards, I should play the cards. So I'm back to even. I try to bluff at a few pots, it doesn't work out, I can't hit a hand.

The UFC is on in the bar, and I take about an hour break to watch that. Good fight, I was among the minority who wanted to see Couture get his 44 year old ass pounded. Actually I was sure that he would, and this makes me really glad that I don't bet on sports.

So I get back to the table, and lose a few hundred more on a couple small bluffs and reasonable calls. This kid directly to my right I've seen limp in early position and make a huge re-raise like maybe three or four times. So, I get JJ, he limps, I raise to $120, he makes it $320, I go all in. He calls.. with KK.. Shite. Well, he only had $900 or so, and so, I'm still alive, with $600 on the table. Down from a $2500 buy in. I have $5k in my pocket that I'm really tempted to put on the table, but I get a hold of myself, and stick to the $2500 limit that I'd promised myself. I realize that I'm pissed at myself in throwing away another big early profit. So, I resolve to torture myself a bit, and see how tight and patient I can play with the $600. Two hands later I get TT in the small blind. It's straddled, and there are a bunch of callers, and I'm getting ready to make a huge raise and take the pot. But, this pretty tight and good player with like $10k makes it $200 on the button. And I think for a second that he might be making a move, he's made some before, but, I decide that playing good means to throw hands like this away. And I do. He doesn't show or comment, but I'm happy with this play, and I think that quite a few players in this spot would have thrown all their money in.

So, I sit, and eventually pick up $300 with AK. Bet $100 pre flop, three callers, and shove the last $400 in on the J high flop. The dudes I was in the hand with were all good and tight, I was nervous about someone having a J, but no one called. I realized then who was actually paying attention to my game, and how little I was playing for the past hour, and who wasn't.

The big WPT thing has brought a lot of these 22 year old tournament players out. And they are all horrible. Horrible people to play with, and horrible at poker. They all have dollar signs in their eyes, and their brand of all in stupidity, of playing every pot like their life depends on it, is the brand that will win one of these things. But, in the cash games, if someone goes all in on you, you really need to be able to throw away aces a lot of the time. Anyway, one of these kids sit down to my left.

This hair lip, who I don't dislike, but he only has like $400, and I'd like to get him off the table, so we can get some more money on it. Anyway, me and three others call a bet from him, I have 55, and flop a set. Check to him, he bets, everyone else folds, I put him all in. He can't resist calling, and he busts and leaves. Yay. But, it's as though this kid re-spawns himself in the form of three other tournament players, who are ten times douchier than he was. These kids sitting directly to my left have no concept of poker etiquette, taking forever with every decision they make, frequently speculating loudly about hands they're not even playing in. It's infuriating, I try to get them to shut up a few times, politely, but then eventually I've kind of just had it.

This kid directly to my left got bluffed out on his very first hand for a big pot, and the kid just couldn't let it go. And for the next two hours I have to hear him whine about it. At first I was pretty nice to him, saying something like “man, you can either let it go, or go crazy with tilt.” But, being stuck a grand my patience started to really wear thin, as not only do I have to listen to him whine, but these kids taking for-fucking-ever on every decision. Finally, I snapped on this hand: another tournament looking kid, who actually knew how to not piss people off, makes a $200 raise, to which the kid to my left calls, and this other tournament kid goes all in for $400 more. Both kids call, when they realize it can't be re-raised. Flop is all low. Raiser makes it $600, and as soon as he raises I call the floor over, when the floor gets there, I call clock on the kid. To which he and his buddy spaz out on me. “It's only been like thirty seconds! What's your problem?” Blah blah. Ok, so, no time, but he's still thinking and thinking, and I try to call the floor back and call time on him again, to which he spazzes out on me again. Ok, so no time is called again. Eventually the kid calls. Turn is another low card, raiser makes a big raise and the kid goes all in. The raiser is contemplating his decision, when the kid's buddy says something like “Aahhh ha! I knew you had Ace King!!!” To which I start cursing him “shut the fuck up. This is a $4k pot.” To which he says “Really 'shut the fuck up?'” Me: “Are you serious? One player per hand, this is a huge pot, shut your fucking mouth.” Anyway, raiser calls with TT, kid had 88. Retarded. Kid buys back in for $2k though, which makes me happy.

As the cards are being dealt for the next hand, kid says to me. “Just so you know, I'm not chopping with you anymore.” Me: “You're still gonna chop with your buddy?” Kid: “Yeah, or whoever sits next to me, but not you. That was bullshit calling time on me.” A few hands later he raises to $130, that me and like 4 others also smelling his tilt, call. I have 55, and I'm thinking how amazing it would be to flop a set on his ass. And I do, with a K52 flop. It's checked to Kid, who bets $300, one caller, and I go all in for the $1090 I have in front of me. He's looking at me, “Did you flop a set? Pocket fives or twos?” I say nothing, I know that if I'm silent, and don't look at him, it'll just make him mad. His buddy says something like “you should call time now.” Nothing, nothing, nothing. He calls eventually. I'm like “good call, yeah good call.” Turn and river dealt.. “Yeah, good call, good call.... I mean, for me!!!” Turn over the set, he looks like he wants to puke. As I'm taking the pot in I say “Hey! Thanks for the money!” He says nothing, and sits there looking like someone just shot his dog. His friend tries to get him to take a break, but he refuses. I know I have him on crazy tilt, but it's 2AM, and I'm tired and I don't think I have the energy to battle with him, so I leave.

This is the great thing about the difference between playing in a casino and in home games, the chance to really be an asshole. I mean, I had this kid on such tilt, that there was no way that he could make any right decisions after that. I drive away laughing my head off, and blasting this Chavez song .

down $3000

So, talking to my mother yesterday afternoon, she asks something about if I've thought of a career change. “Well, I can make like $120k a year here if I play good all the time.” She says “but you can't play well all the time. No one can.” To which I start to argue about how I can do it! Through discipline, through money management, blah blah blah. And then as if to prove her right, I go and hang out with my neighbors who are BBQ-ing by the pool and break a good number of my rules: I smoked weed in the afternoon at a BBQ with my neighbors, I hung out too long and didn't get a chance to sit down and write before going to play. And so I made mistakes...

I sit down to a tough looking must-move with $1500. In my first hand I win a big pot with a flush, I bought in for $1500, and so I have like $2500 on the table.

First mistake:
A few hands later, I get QQ. I raise the straddle to $170, straddler and another call. Flop = J7T, two clubs. Checked to me, I bet $350, straddler raises to $800, other dude folds. I'm looking at the board, and thinking about all the draws that he could have, and how he probably just has a J, and so I go all in. Really really stupid. Wow, stupid. I mean, this is the reason why over-betting is the dumbest thing in the world. I don't want him to draw for cheap, but of course there's always the chance that he's flopped a big hand. I could have found out what he had for a raise of $1k, instead of this huge bet. Anyway, he insta-calls with the nuts of 98 off suit (why he defended his straddle for $130 I don't know, but whatever). Anyway, in my second runner runner suckout in as many sessions, the board comes A, K, giving me the nuts for broadway. Let's see, what was I here? I don't remember if I had the Q of clubs, if I did I was 9-1, if not I was 14 -1. So, I'm a bit tilted from this, which is a weird kind of tilt when the dealer is pushing you a monstrous pot.

Second mistake:
There's this super super aggressive kid on the table. Wearing this absurd yellow shirt, little goatee, and these dorky gold 80's cop glasses. I'm watching him raise to $130 every other pot, and so a few hands after I've sucked out with the QQ, I decide to pop him with 98 suited. I limp, knowing he's probably going to raise, which he obliges me with. One caller, and I pop him to $350. He calls, other guy folds. Flop = Q9X, 2 spades. I bet $400, he thinks for awhile and calls. Turn = X. Check, check. River = K of spades. Here's the mistake: I raise to $600. Why? Well, because I figure if he didn't have spades, he'd fold. Stupid. This $600 bet into an $1100 pot just screams that I don't have it, and I can be bluffed out. And this kid was good enough to pick up on that. I'm feeling that my pair of 9's was probably good here, and I could have just check/called him. But he grabs a $2k stack of hundred dollar chips, and pushes them forward. I'm thinking for a long long time, and I just know that I have him, or at least I'm pretty sure. But, I'm cursing at myself for betting the river, the check call would have only been like $1k, I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a flush, but I'm wondering if he has a K. Anyway, I think for a long while, and I fold. He shows the AT of clubs. I shouldn't have tried to muscle him out in the first place. I've done so well being very patient with the super aggressive dudes. Wait wait and wait, and then hit them over the head with a huge hand, get them to fear you, and then pop them maybe once after that. However, this process takes a minimum of 5 hours. Playing with this kid this early was so so stupid of me.

I'm moved to the main game where I lose a couple hands trying to bluff a couple pots. I put the whole $3k I've taken out of my account on the table. I've gone from being up $2800 after that QQ suck-out, to being down a few hundred.

Third:
On the main table, I'm sitting with James Woods who I played with once before, he's pretty bad. Does the Daniel Negranu thing of calling out people's hands and then paying them off. I usually see him lose, and tonight he has a bunch of money in front of him. I limp in late position with A5. Flop = 55T, 2 clubs. He bets $100, folds to me, I make it $250 more. He thinks and thinks, and then calls. Turn = X. Checks to me, I bet $600, he calls. Before the blanked river is dealt, he's going on about how he has a boat, and how he's not going to bet, because he doesn't want to “ruin your night.” I say something like “I don't think you have a boat, I think you were on a flush draw.” He says some bullshit line about, “well, it's not a very good boat.” He checks to me, and I think and think, and I only have $1300 left, and I just check. I hate myself for this, he turns over 52, and I take the pot. The mistake was not betting the river. I knew I had him, and I could have put out a $700 bet, and he probably would have made a crying call.

Fourth:
I'm chatting with this this pretty good pro sitting directly to my left. He's going on about playing the 20/40 game with Sean Shikan the other night, talking about chip tricks, etc etc. He's not that aggressive, he's a pretty even, decent player. So, in the middle of our friendly conversation, I limp into the pot with him and three others with 9T of diamonds. Flop = AJX, all diamonds. I decide not to slow play it, and I bet $130, about the size of the pot, he calls, and another call. Turn = X. I bet $300, he raises to $700. Other dude folds. The only thought in my head at this point was how to get all the money into the pot, so, I go all in. And he insta calls with KT of diamonds, and I'm drawing dead. He had me covered by a ton, and this was about a $5k pot. The all in was the mistake here, again, I could have made a reasonable raise. Just calling would have been the best option, this guy was obviously very good, and he wasn't not putting his money in with nothing. I was hoping he had a set or maybe even AK, but that was such a stupid hope, because he wouldn't have been in the hand at this point. Although this was a really tough spot for me to be in, I still think that I could have just called him down on his raise on the turn, and check called the river for another thousand or so. If I'd been playing my best, I mean....

If there is a silver lining in this session, it's that I'm proud for leaving at this point. Taking my $3k loss on the chin, admit that I wasn't playing my best, and going the hell home. In the first week of this trip, I posted sessions of $5k and $4k losses, neither was necessary, and I'm glad to have saved myself a few thousand that I'm certain I would have lost.

Ok, been writing for the better part of 4 hours now. Feeling good finally. Got a little bit of nervousness that's pretty good for me. Time to go.

Up $5380 (thursday, 8/23)

I buy in for $1500, wait for my blind to start playing. The very first hand I get A5, check my big blind. Flop = Ac5c3h. I check. The button, a pretty decent, and mostly tight assed pro, who I find very funny, bets, I call. Turn = 4h. Check, bet, call. River = 6h. I check, he goes all in. The pot is only like $400. I say “wow, that's a horrible card.” Muck the hand face up. He shows me a 3 of clubs. I think I should have thought about this a little more, and maybe I could have called. It would have been a pretty amazing call. And of course a 2 beat me, or maybe he had a set of 3's? I'm not sure.

I sit for awhile, it's the must move, and I don't really like playing too much at the must move, as I usually don't feel I have enough time to get into people's games. But, this kid who's obviously really aggressive sits down. He's also talking to The Staker, bemoaning losing $3k the night before. Observing his play up to this point, I imagine his loss was because he can't fold a hand. So, I decided to call his $100 from the BB with 64 of hearts, with the plan to check raise anything he bets on the flop. I get a better flop than I'd expected in the form of KJ5 with two hearts. He bets $200, I make it $500, and he instantly goes all in. Doh! Well, I only have $750 left, I'm 2-1 to hit the flush, so I need to make $1500 to make the call right. There's already $1400 in the pot, plus his $750 makes it way in my favor. But... He turns over AT of hearts. Doh! But... Turn = 3 of not hearts, and river = 7 of not hearts, giving me a straight. Nice! As I'm taking the pot in he goes on about how bad he's running, how he was a huge favorite, blah blah blah. But I reason, that I had to put him on exactly Ax of hearts in order to give me bad expected value. I just looked it up and actually, I was 4.5 -1 so, not as horrible as I'd thought.

So, I'm up about $1k now, and am moved to the main game. I'm in seat one, and my first big hand is against seat 9 (they only play 9 handed at the Commerce). Because of the dealer between us, I don't get a really get a look at this guy. I only remember his hands always putting chips into the pot, a kind of disembodied arm feeding chips pots in hopeless situations. A real passive calling station, he could not fold any hand if he had any draw or any piece of the board. I get AA, I raise, he's the only caller. Flop = 9TX two diamonds. I bet the size of the pot, he calls. Turn = Ad. He checks, and I go all in. He calls almost instantly! Fiver = blank. I turn over the aces, he mucks. I still can not figure out what he had, maybe 9T? Maybe AT? I have no idea. He re-buys for $2k or so.

I lose a medium hand to a pretty tight Indian dude. I can't even remember the hand now, because it was somewhat inconsequential in the scheme of things. So, after this little loss I'm up about $2k, with $3500 on the table, when this hand comes: Donkey and I call this aggressive kid's $100 raise. I have 9T of diamonds. Flop = 9TX, two clubs. Donkey checks, I bet $200, kid folds, donk calls. Turn = 9!! I bet $500, donk looks at his cards, looks at the flop, looks like he's about to muck his hand, but he calls!!!!! River = 8 of not clubs. Donk makes a huge bet, I go all in, he insta-calls! He has me covered!! He proudly turns up QJ for a straight! I have a boat! He's got me covered!!! Yayaya I'm rich!!!!! He gets up immediately after this hand.

I'm feeling rather great about this whole thing, and my play in general. Which isn't the best thing for me, as I kind of get lazy, and don't get aggressive enough, and I lack the willingness to gamble, even when I'm pretty sure I have the best hand. I know a lot of people who think this conservative style of play is the way to succeed, but it's not, it will lead to missing a lot of pots you could win. Anyway, it's something I need to correct. There were a number of hands that I had big aces but, I was unwilling to see flops due to any sizable bet.

I also feel that I'm making a common mistake of getting too friendly with my neighbors at the table. It's ok to be chatty, but, I still must look into their games and find their flaws. I made a mistake in this manner against this middle aged lady who was sitting next to me, and kind of flirty and very flattering, in a way that reminded me of my high school friend's mothers. In one hand I call her bet pre flop, and I flop a set of 8's. I let her bet the flop, she obviously had an over pair, but I just went all in, kind of to let her know. I am not feeling good about this in retrospect, I should have let her hang herself, and let her bet again, or made a reasonable bet and done my best to give her a tough decision. I probably left about $1k, maybe even her whole stack on the table.

On losing, part 3

I'm only down like $1k on the trip at this point. I'm not sure why the thought of coming home with a loss chapped my ass so badly. If I were home, I would have taken a break, checked myself into the “poker hospital” for at least a week and not played until I didn't feel so bad. But, yeah, like I said, nothing else to do there. When I eventually lie down, I doze in and out for a couple hours at a time, instead of ruminating about my stupidity, my brain fixated on the monomaniacal thought of how I'm going to make it right. When thinking about this sequence of events, it is this night I think of most. I think of how I could have taken the car we rented and driven a few hours to visit my parents, relax, and in a day or two come back to play the tournaments we'd gone down to play in the first place. But, no, I didn't do that at all...
- On Losing, part 2
- On Losing, part 1


I got up in the afternoon, on maybe four or five hours total sleep, put two $5k bands in my pocket, walk downstairs to the casino, find a seat at the $10/$25 table, open one of these bands and empty the contents onto it. This table features Chad Brown (Bluff magazine's 2006 player of the year), Amnon Filippi (as seen on High Stakes Poker), and a bunch of tight/pro looking dudes who I'd played with the other day. If you can't find the sucker at the table...

I sit down and start playing hard, and bluffing hard, up a little, down a little. I am about even when I get the J9 of clubs somewhere in middle position. I raise to $150 or so. Brown is the only caller. Flop = XXX, two clubs. I bet the size of the pot, Brown calls. Turn = Q of not clubs. Brown checks, I go all in for about $3500. The pot is a little under $1k at this point, and so, this bet was a retardedly huge over-bet.

I had this sunglasses sthick I'd do in these days. Where I'd keep dark sunglasses on top of my head until I'd get involved in hands, when I'd pull them down, put my put my chin in my hands, and cross my arm on my bicep. It was kind of a shield that I felt somewhat fearless behind. So, I have the glasses down, I have my hand covering half my face, I'm sitting in seat eight, and I'm staring at Brown in seat two contemplating his decision.

I'm surprised that he hasn't folded quickly. Instead he keeps looking at me, looks back at his chips, looks at his cards, looks back at me. The table is silent, all eyes are on Brown's eyes that keeps looking up at me, down to the pot, down to his chips, down to his cards. I'm not nervous in the slightest, not because I was sure he was folding, but more because this is really the zenith of degenerate gambling, of being caught in a tailspin of losing where rational thoughts are replaced by the sickly monomaniacal instinct of trying to get even. I didn't consider the risk/reward of the amount I bet, I didn't consider who I was playing. I made a frustrated and stupid play. And Brown hasn't done anything yet, he's asked me no questions, he's said nothing to the table, he's postulated no theories on what I had, or discussed his thinking. He just keeps looking up and down. I sit motionless in the same position, staring at him.

After two or three minutes he says two words: “I call.”

By the time I've registered what's happened, the dealer has put the river card out. When I finally look at it, I'm praying it's a club. It's not. It wouldn't have helped me anyway. A few seconds later, I come to my sense and say, “I missed, jack high,” he turns over Q4 of clubs. As I'm pushing my chips, all of my chips, towards the pot, I say “good call.” Brown just nods in response to this without looking at me, as he takes the pot in. The guy next to me, is astonished and says “how did he call that?” Well, I guess, because you don't get to be player of the year for nothing.

I reach into my pocket and put the other $5k on the table...

Up $1420

I was planning to play again tonight, but I played for 5 hours yesterday and I just felt myself hit the wall. And I've won three in a row, and so I think I'll reward myself by taking take today and tomorrow to do nothing productive, drink some beers, hang out by the pool, and wander around LA a bit.

The game was easy, no huge hands for me. I sit and watch these two maniacs suck out on people the whole game. Here's a good one. Maniac calls $200 with AQ, flop = XXX, better puts maniac all in for like $1500, maniac calls. turn = X, river = Q. Better had JJ. Hands like that the whole night, so I just sit with a helmet on, and do nothing. Unfortunately I get no hands. The dude directly to my right employs the same strategy, but he gets a set of 7's and doubles through the Maniac, and then pocket Kings, and busts him, when he can't lay down T8 pre flop, nor on the T high flop. I leave shortly after this hand, as I'm tired and he was the only reason I was pushing myself to stay.

So, the whole discipline thing I wrote about worked out very well, and no drink, no bad food, exercise a lot, write a lot. Through it I found such a high degree of patientce and the ability to actualy follow my game plan, instead of being overcome with the desire to gamble that I often feel. In my last 5 games, I'm up $11k. Which I'm feeling is more of a relief than anything. Anyway, see y'all on Thursday.

Up $2670

I spend the first five hours completely even. I get up $500 or so, then make a bluff, and a couple reasonable calls that don't work out and find myself down $300. Win a couple little pots, get up. Lose a few more, go down, etc etc. I get involved in no big pots, I make no big decisions, I get a couple big pairs, raise, and everyone folds. But I find myself very very patient, and very very observant of the whole table. 7 of the 9 players are either very tight or have a little bit of skill, I can bluff them, but I'm not going to win any real money from them. I'm at the table for two players: seat 8, this middle aged dude who's a calling station with a seemingly infinite supply of money, and seat 7 is a younger very aggressive kid. I watch seat 8 suck-out on a couple hands and not bet the river when his middle or bottom pair have turned into trips, and then blow all that money making some of the worst calls I can imagine. He's completely unbluffable, and because of this I avoid playing any pots with him without a hand. Unfortunately, in the four hours it takes him to blow $6k or so, and decide he's had enough, I haven't managed to find a hand I want to play against him.

But, the Aggressive Kid is still there, and he has managed to hit a few huge hands, and has gone from like $1k on the table, to somewhere around $4k. He's not a completely bad player, but he has a nice exploitable flaw of being way too aggressive, combined with generally making over-bets. He's the exact type of player that I'm very used to playing back home. I let him bluff me out of a few pots, I play pretty passively against him for a few hours. I'll bet AK, pre flop, and when I don't hit, I'll just check and fold. I know that any bet that I put out on the flop is going to get re-raised, and I also know that if I allow him to run me over for a bunch of little pots, it will pay off well if I ever manage to make a hand.

I'm even, but I'm a little bored, and want some more firepower, so I put the whole $2500 I have with me on the table, so I have a little less than that at the start of this hand, which is 67 diamonds on the button, me and 3 others call a $100 raise from Aggressive Kid. Flop = 49X, two clubs. Checks around to aggressive kid, who surprisingly checks as well. Turn = 5 of not clubs. He bets $200, I call quickly, and I'm kind of surprised when everyone else folds. The river = 3 of not clubs, giving me the pretty well disguised nuts. He bets $400. I think and think and think, and take a nice long hesitation here. I finally raise $700 more. He goes into the tank for awhile, he asks “can you beat a set?” I say “do you really have a set?” I'm pretty sure he maybe has A9 or something retarded, I've seen him making so many calls like that the whole night, and I'm pretty confident that his hand is somewhere around there. The fact that I've been calling or checking up to this point has him confused as well, as he starts muttering to himself about how it feels like I missed a flush draw. Finally he sees the straight. “Do you have 67?” I say nothing, I do my best to give him no help at all. “67, really? Ok, show me 67.” He throws his money in, I turn the cards over, take the pot. Yay. I think maybe I could have gone all in here. I think maybe he would have called, I don't know though, I have no idea what he had. Anyway, this was a nice big pot from him, and I now have a little profit, and I have this dude on a nice tilt.

On the very next time it's my button, I know that I have his number, and I call his $80 raise with J8 of spades. Flop = 875, one spade. He bets $200, I call. I turn = 6 of spades. Not the best card for me, but, it brings the spade draw, and I'm somewhat sure I have the best hand now, or if not, I have a ton of outs. Before he does anything I decide that if he bets, I'm going to go all in. He bets $600, and as soon as the bet is out of his mouth, I insta-all-in. Which I guess I should have actually counted out and maybe thought about, because it's like a raise of $2200 (on top of his $600). A big overbet, but to take the $1k pot, it's not horrible. He goes on and on about how he flopped two pair. He says “You haven't bluffed me all night, but I think you're bluffing me now.” I say nothing, look up at him, pulse pounding in my neck, I say nothing, but just look at the pot, and him in my periphery. He's still in the tank a minute later, when he asks “do you want me to call?” I shrug and say “do what you gotta do man.” Which I think is about the best response I could give him. He's counting his money out, and I've already started praying for another spade, or an 8 (or maybe even a J would have been live), but he folds.

I'm up about $3k at this point, and I don't win another hand in the next half hour. I let him bluff me out a couple times. I make a horrible fold with 99 vs two other dudes who obviously just had a big ace. It's late, and after those two hands above, I just don't have the energy to fight with people on mediocre hands. I order some food, and when it arrives, I stop playing, eat, and go home.

Up $2980

Get there around 4 or so. The place is packed. It's always a great game there, but I think because of the big WPT thing at the Bicycle, it's even more insane. People seem to just finish their tournament there, and come here instead of playing at the Bike. There is a huge 50/100 game featuring Daniel Alehi, and maybe three 20/40 games as well. Anyway, sitting on the must move, I manage to win like $200 or so. Just a few little pots, playing pretty tight, kind of biding my time until the main game.

I wind up sitting with the dude who'd busted me with a set of 9's from my second session on this trip. He's a shorter fat middle aged dude, knows just about everyone there. He always sits down with at least $7k, looks around the table, and if anyone has him covered, he pulls another $5k brick out of his pocket. He stakes a few players in the room, said something the other day about how he's “not good enough to play in the big game, so I invest money with people who are.” Something like that. I think he puts money into this dude that I hate, for completely irrational reasons (he was the first hand during my AC disaster). I kind of hate The Staker for no rational reason either. This is the third table I've played with him, and each time he kind of stares at me when I'm in a hand. He's not a bad player, he has some problems with over betting, but besides this he has no hugely exploitable flaw that I've found, and for the most part he seems to be playing quality hands and I mostly stay away from him. Until this hand.. I'm in for $1500, and am up maybe $500 or so (so $2k in front of me). I limp with A4 of clubs. Flop = AXX one club. I'm first to act, and I bet $200, Staker nd another call. Turn = 6c. Runner runner draw! Wheee.. Staker raises to $1k (I think, it was some amount that was just slightly too big and dumb). Other dude thinks a second and folds. I know I'm folding, but I sit and think and think, and look up at him, and think, and think some more. I just want to make him either sweat that I'm going to call, or to be pissed that he bet too much when I fold. And I do fold. Anyway, my bet on the turn was horrible, because there was no way that I'd get both dudes to fold the hand, and if I'd just let one of them bet (preferably Staker, because that would put me in better position), and see if I could get the right money in the pot for me to call to river a club or 4. Anyway, whatever, bad bet, and now I'm down like $200 or so.

So, I lose a bit more after that hand above, nothing special, all reasonable calls, with little pairs, suited connectors, etc, but nothing hits, and I'm down $500 or so, with $1k or so on the table left. I get KQ. I limp in somewhat early position. Button, a young aggressive kid raises to $120. This Indian, who was a complete calling-station for absurd amounts, calls. I've been watching this kid raise most of his buttons in a limped pot, so I decide to pop him, I make it $400 total, to which he quickly folds. Indian thinks and thinks, and calls! Wow.. ok. Flop = AXX. Indian checks, and I insta-all in for maybe $600. Indian thinks and thinks, I lean back and drink the coffee behind me, which maybe I shouldn't have done, as I think people construe this as a tell for being weak, and so he calls. Turn = X, river = Q. I say “good call, ace is good.” He says “I don't have an Ace.” !!!!! So, I turn over the KQ and take the pot. As I'm stacking my chips I notice Staker is staring at me, and I look at him and shrug, to which he says something stupid that I can't quite remember.

When I'm moved to the main game a few hands later I have a little profit. The game is odd, it changes very quickly from being very tight and passive, to being very loose and passive. There are no real aggressive players at the table when I sit down. A few come in throughout the night, but for the most part this is a table of calling stations. It's a weird flaw, and one I seldom see in NY, people not raising with much of anything, but completely unable to fold anything remotely resembling a hand for anything upto $100 preflop. Anyway, this bearded dude from San Fran, who I was on the must move with, seems to be a pretty good player. He's been winning, and this is his first time at the Commerce, and he is in awe of how many games are playing, and is talking about taking a shot at the bigger games. Until.... he gets KJ which winds up being the nuts (broadway) on the turn. He makes a healthy bet at a dude, who thinks and thinks, and calls. The river is the third club, San Fran checks, dude goes all in for maybe $2k. SF insta calls, and is shown AK of clubs. And he goes on a very obvious, whiney tilt for the next half hour. “It'll take me 30 pots to win that back.” Any time the winner is in a hand he asks “Ace King of clubs?” He just can't let it go. He wins a few hands, by absurd over bets, and he's obviously frustrated and unable to fold anything. In a few previous sessions, I've actually said things to players when they were tilting, cracking jokes, talking to them about whatever, generally making them feel better. And while I actually like the dude, I think of these situations, and stupid it was of me to stopped the tilted players from throwing their money at the table. So, here, I say nothing, and just let his frustration grow into self-destruction. And I reap the benefits this time. I get 22, flop = 2J9. He bets, I raise, he calls. Turn = 7, and I'm wondering if he could have T8, his check, combined with knitted brow, leads me to know that he has either AJ or J9, I bet again. He calls. On the blanked river, I bet $600, to which he says “did you flop a set.” I say “Do I need one?” Which is just about perfect, he just needed a little bit of encouragement to make the call, and that did it. He calls and I say “yeah, I have a set.” He says he had J9, but didn't show.

Yay, nice hand now I'm up maybe $1500 or so. I start to feel good, but after raising to $100 with KQ and getting no less than four callers, I don't play too many hands after that. I pick up a nice pot though I get called down with aces up.

But, I'm finding I have a somewhat scary image, and whenever I raise, and then raise the flop, people are pretty reluctant to continue the hands with me. I exploit it the most on this hand, I think though. I have AQ diamonds. I call an $80 raise from the only active dude who's sitting on my right. Three others call. Flop = K3X, 2 diamonds. He bets, I'm the only caller. Turn = K. Check, I ask “how much do you have” he counts out $400 in bills and some change, I check. River = 3. Check. I pause for a little, and grab 5 $100 chips and throw them out. He thinks and thinks, and I'm pretty sure that we'd be chopping the pot if he calls, but who knows maybe he had 88 or something. He folds, and I win.

Near the end of my session, restaurateur sits down. His first hand he makes these insane call with A2 of hearts, into a pretty tight dude's AK (flop =AKX), and rivers a runner runner flush. He's very active and kind of spastic. On his 2nd hand, I limp in with KJ. He's the small blind, he's thinking, he's thinking. It's only fucking $10 more. I say “it's on you man.” He says that he knows, and he puts out the $10. Flop = JXX. Checks to me. I bet $100. He stares me down, weird sunburned long face, making these weird eyebrow movements, and calls, BB folds. Turn = X, check check. River = X. He bets $220. I'm just looking at him, looking at me, looking at him. And I think back to that 99 hand in my last session, what a pussy I was, and I'm pretty sure I have him, so I call. “If you're calling, I can't win.” Yay!

I quit after six hours. Which I'm starting to wonder if that should be my time limit rather than eight. I started to get a bit of headache, and so I knew it was time to go, and I did.

Ok, it's almost 7:00. I got up late this morning, which got me to the gym late, which got me to the cafe late, which got me to write this late. Hmm, I might be out until 2 tonight, kind of throws my schedule off a bit, but yeah, this is about the best time to be playing.

More tomorrow.

down $1650

Lost last session. Sunday after the mega win. I think I played pretty good, but, I keep going up and back about that. I had AA and QQ cracked early on. Although I was able to get out of both hands with only $400 - $800 damage each.

I fought back to even about midway through the session. I had AA vs this wacky asian lady who cracked my QQ earlier. I raised to $100 pre flop, she called. Flop = 432. She goes all in. I think for a little while. She's been complaining for the past hour about how she's down, how poker sucks, etc etc. She's pretty easy to read at this point, just by her talking and talking, I know that she's not feeling so good about her hand, and I know she doesn't have a set. So, I call, she has 55, she misses her set or straight, and I win a nice pot. And have like $100 profit, after being down like $1900 at one point

About an hour after this, these two insane dudes come to the table. One is wearing a "Tapout" (mma) shirt, the other seems to be his friend. Tapout, is insane, trying to bluff everyone off every hand. His friend is a bit calmer, but still pretty insane too. The rest of the table and me all sit around with helmets on, just hoping to get into hands with the live ones. I stupidly try to bluff on 22 once, and get re-raised out of the pot. Stupid. I get 99 eventually. I call the friend's raise. He'd just bluffed big at the hand right before this one, and lost a huge pot because of a dude calling him down with like a pair of T's on a TAK XX board. He'd missed his flush. Anyway, I call. Flop is like 7 high. I check, he bets $150. He turns to eat his food. I think this is suspicious, I make it $400. He looks at me, asks how much I have left, and puts me all in. Hmmm... I fold after thinking for awhile. I am feeling shitty about this now. I'm pretty sure I had him, and even if I didn't have him, this is a call I need to make. I had a good read on him, and the circumstance was pretty right, and I just pussied out for $800 bucks. He had AK at best, I think.

Anyway, I would have played past my 8 hours if Tapout had stayed at the table, but he busts out soon after. Throwing away like $1500 on a pair of Q's (top pair) vs a pretty tight dude's made straight. It was somewhat amusing.

Ok, I'm off to play now. I wrote a lot in the novel the begining of the week, sat in this coffee shop today and worked on that "on losing" essay the whole day, worked out this morning, slept well, ate well, etc etc etc. I'm feeling nervous, but, the brain is going to feel about as good as it's going to feel, and being nervous isn't the worst thing for me. I think, I hope.

l8r,
XXXXX

On losing, part 2

I went there with $16k, in three neatly rubber banded wads of 50 hundred dollar bills. At this point the safe in our room has four of these wads in it, and a couple thousand dollar chips, that I carry around and do tricks with. I'm counting out the credit cards I'm going to pay. I'm thinking about the stocks I'm going to buy. I'm deciding if I want a scooter or a real motorcycle. The next day, I get to the table, a bit hungover, a bit tired. I play poorly, get down a few thousand but eventually get a hold of myself and fight back to a $65 tie. My friend is at the final table for a satellite to the $10k main event, and so I leave the game to watch him get through a field of 300 to come in 4^th, he wins $1k, but not a seat. We have a nice steak dinner, drink some wine. I am unstoppable! Even when I play bad, I'm still better than everyone! We are both winning! We are awesome! We are in good moods.
On losing, Part 1

The the amount of to sleep I can get after a game is in pretty direct reverse correlation to the swings I've endured. This is why it's smart of me to take time off between games. But, in AC, especially in the winter, there's not much else to do but gamble. So, I get up the next day, tired, but I still manage a long hard workout, sit in the hot tub for awhile after, take a shower and then go and play. The adrenaline from the workout covered up the fatigue I was feeling, and when I sat down to play the adrenaline of the game covered it up even more.

I start playing decently enough, and am somewhere around even five or six hours in. And then, suddenly the fatigue catches up to me. It was as though I'd completely forgotten what I was doing for a few minutes... I overplay TT, AQ flopping an A, and another hand I can't quite remember. I don't remember the exact hands, I do remember the changes in the pros' faces. Their expressions and body language changed from a kind of timid wondering what I was going to do in previous hands, to a confidence knowing that they had me beat. Six months later, I'm not sure if this is a confabulation, but, either way, I had no instincts, I had no idea where I was at, I had no idea where anyone was at.

When I wake up, I notice I've lost the entire $5k I'd put on the table. I find a deep self-loathing, and tilt. I couldn't process that I'd done anything wrong, I just had the feeling I suspect my friend always has. That all the shit luck in all the world was crashing on my head. But, I found the same self destructive thing I in my brain that I imagine is similar in his. It feels like the numbness and rush of cocaine, and like cocaine it whispers “more, more, more.”

So, I get up from the table, go up to the safe in the room, and take out another $5k band. My traveling companion called sometime during this and I go and meet him for a $250 single table tournament. I'm in rare form, and just kind of pissed and willing to throw away that buyin, as I can't be bothered to fold anything. But, the funny thing about tournament poker is that the donkeys win quite a bit of the time, and I wind up knocing out like the first four dudes on some insane hands, and I roll to an easy first place $1k victory. I get no less than two dudes to curse at me, and my friend to give me the finger as I bust him, I forget the hand, I probably put him all in and hit some retarded gut shot.

Of course this win covers up any notion that the losing was my own fault, and that I needed to take a break. The numb feeling, and the idea that my money would come back to me if I kept going was there. It's somewhat late and my friend goes up to sleep, and I should be tired, but I have no desire to sleep, I only feel the desire for more more more. So I go back to the 10/25 game. They don't have a seat, and so I sit down at the 5/10 game. I lose $2300 in about an hour when I can't fold QQ vs someone's AA, and then I take a nice suckout with my TT vs K8. The act of reaching into my pocket for a rebuy in this game finally breaks my spirit, and I'm depressed enough to quit, down $7150 on the day.

It's way late now, and I can't sleep. After laying in bed for a few minutes I go to the hotel lounge and putz around on the internet. I still have like $15k left in cash in the safe. And I can't believe that after playing perfectly for so many months, that things are now going so wrong now, and how can I make things right? I need to make things right! I will make things right.

I'm only down like $1k on the trip at this point. I'm not sure why the thought of coming home with a loss chapped my ass so badly. If I were home, I would have taken a break, checked myself into the “poker hospital” for at least a week and not played until I didn't feel so bad. But, yeah, like I said, nothing else to do there. When I eventually lie down, I doze in and out for a couple hours at a time, instead of ruminating about my stupidity, my brain fixated on the monomaniacal thought of how I'm going to make it right.

When thinking about this sequence of events, it is this night I think of most. I think of how I could have taken the car we rented and driven a few hours to visit my parents, relax, and in a day or two come back to play the tournaments we'd gone down to play in the first place. But, no, I didn't do that at all...

up $5860

Hi, just finished playing. Just a quick post to say that I killed it tonight. Played great, and ran great. I think writing did the trick, I worked on that last post for like 6 straight hours before playing, and felt and played great.

Anyway, after this I'm five whole US dollars in the black. I'm feeling great. Here's my monster, $7k chip stack as I was cashing out...

On losing, part 1

The man who taught me how to play poker asked me for a loan once because couldn't pay his rent. I knew the rules and I'd played a little before, but I say that I learned to play from him, because in his apartment, at his $0.25-$3 spread bet home game, I learned about “outs,” and “pot odds.” He would eventually start dealing in and playing in some of the local card rooms, which by his invite is how I wound up getting my start playing Hold 'Em for real money. But, despite dealing cards for a living, reading tons of books, and being pretty good mathematically, he has never been a winning player. I think the fundamental problem with his game is that he's a bit of a whiner. I used to get sob stories about why he'd lost on a particular evening until I responded harshly: “Dear XXXX, Here is my secret formula for poker success. 1. Stop whining. 2. Play better. Love, Grandpa.”

Most players, most people, feel sorry for themselves when faced with adversity. Rather than really sitting down and figuring out why they lose, they find a kind of contentment in finding excuses that allow them to make the same mistakes they've always made. Specifically excuses for allowing themselves to tilt. He wrote in his own blog once about how there's no writing about losing poker. He's an aspiring writer (I think, I don't really know), and there is a certain inherent poetry in the loser. And, yeah, when losing I'll compare myself to Dostoevsky, and work long and hard on the absurdly long novel that I can't seem to finish. But he is right about the pro card player's attitude toward losing, in reading other player's blogs, their winning sessions are often hardcore play by plays of how awesome they are, while their losing sessions are “played bad. Was on tilt. Too depressing to write about.” And I'm guilty of this too. It's about hardest thing in the world to sit down and really look at your own shortcomings.

So here goes...
The story of my January through February disaster starts sometime in September. After a losing August, I decided that if I played good every session, if I never tilted, I could make a decent living. It took me a few months to get to this point, but eventually I started to do it. And, during an incredible streak from October 30, to Jan 2 I had an 83% win rate, with a little over $21k of profit. I was playing great. I had enough money that I could gamble without fear when I knew I had the best hand. I could shrug off any cold deck. I achieved a feeling of calmness that afforded me the serenity to know that despite any bad luck, the money would come to me eventually, simply because I playing better than everyone at any table I was at. And I was amazing... in tight games I played aggressive and loose, in loose games I played patient and tight. I had near perfect reads on everyone. I found a way to profit from any table I was at. No one could set me off my game plan, and nothing could make me tilt. I achieved this from an intense discipline that I found in the rest of my life. All the guidelines I mentioned in the last post I followed pretty exactly.

So, at the beginning of Jan, I got the notion that my shit didn't stink, and I got into an insanely aggressive $10/$25 game. No cap on the buy in, very rich and very bad players throwing around thousands, by far the loosest and biggest game I've played in. And in my first three sessions, I won $3k, $5k, and a two hour $10,600 win that got me kicked out of the game. This brought my total since October 30 to a little over $40k (FORTY THOUSAND US DOLLARS).

The WPT was happening the next week. Now, with the notion that my shit smelled like roses, I went with a friend to the Borgata. We get there that night pretty tired from the trip, and so I decide to just play a few hours. Within the first hour or two, I wind up hitting a straight flush, and win about $6k. We leave soon after, go out to a strip club, drink a lot, celebrate in a general merriment. I tell a stripper giving me a lap dance to come and meet me at the casino the next day, that “I'll be easy to find. I'll be the guy at the poker table with all the money!” She found this charming, but never showed.

I went there with $16k, in three neatly rubber banded wads of 50 hundred dollar bills. At this point the safe in our room has four of these wads in it, and a couple thousand dollar chips, that I carry around and do tricks with. I'm counting out the credit cards I'm going to pay. I'm thinking about the stocks I'm going to buy. I'm deciding if I want a scooter or a real motorcycle.

The next day, I get to the table, a bit hungover, a bit tired. I play poorly, get down a few thousand but eventually get a hold of myself and fight back to a $65 tie. My friend is at the final table for a satellite to the $10k main event, and so I leave the game to watch him get through a field of 300 to come in 4^th, he wins $1k, but not a seat. We have a nice steak dinner, drink some wine. I am unstoppable! Even when I play bad, I'm still better than everyone! We are both winning! We are awesome! We are in good moods.

down the rabbit hole

Hi kids. So, in the past two disastrous months since my last update, I'm down a little more than $11k. It has not been pretty. I am an idiot for not posting here. I am keeping my spreadsheet up to date, but I am not really looking at the sessions, not really thinking about what I'm doing wrong in any long analytical fashion. I am in LA now, and I am somewhat terrified at how low my levels of accessible money has become. I have this apartment booked until November, and I have no idea what I'm going to do if I can't turn things around.

I have no one to blame but myself. I have endured a few untimely bad beats, but, I have reacted to them rather poorly. They've stuck with me, not let me sleep, causing me to tilt for weeks sometimes. I brush them off in conversation, but I don't really come to terms with them. And then at the table, I will play amazing for the first part of the session, eventually count my stack, and then start drifting off to what I have in the bankroll, to what I have in the bank, to the level of money that I would have if that fucking card hadn't come. And, invariably, instead of playing 100%, I'm just trying my damnedest to get the money back, and make things right. And invariably, that is when I play dumb, and lose.

And yeah, I'm an idiot, I think for not writing in here. When I use this space, it stops the bad thoughts from perpetuating and taking root, it allows me to keep a perspective on the situation, look at it from all angels, compartmentalize it, figure it out, learn from it (or rationalize that there's nothing to be learned), and go back to playing well. Also, I've been getting a few comments from completely unexpected people asking when I'm going to go back to writing this thing, and I'm finding that having people, even if it's only ten, who have this loaded up in their news reader, and are psyched to see a new post, is really something nice. So, yeah, thanks.

Anyway, I have been breaking my cardinal rules that have kept me profitable for so long. I feel I should reiterate them here.

• 8 hours, 8 hours, 8 fucking hours. When you play more, you play bad. And if you play more than 10, you can't play the next day.

  • I need to put the dudes I see playing great for two days with no break out of my mind. It's simply not something my brain can do. I am not Phil Ivey, Gus Hansen, or David Benyamin, I need to come to terms with this, or it's going to destroy me.

• Exercise, eat well, sleep

  • I've been to the gym like twice in the past three weeks. Eating fat and sugar. Having unrestful and anxious dreams. Here's a good one... I am playing at the Commerce, and I keep forgetting what my hole cards are, and I turn them over, expecting to take the pot, and they're completely different cards.

• Write, and write and write more.

  • I get somewhat depressed from playing poker for extended periods. It's a strange heavy feeling, and when I sit down to write, even this blog, and especially the various other artistic things I'm working on, it really relaxes me and gives me this kind of deep calmness that is so good for poker, and for my brain in general. I'd like to consider myself a writer first, and when I don't write, I really feel like an asshole.

• Be honest with yourself at the table.

  • Something Greenstein's said in his book, about when you play bad, get up from the table, and ask yourself if you can play good. Sit down, and then if you don't play good, leave. It's so hard though, because I rationalize when I'm at the table... I know I'm doing stupid shit, but I put it into my head that I'm just going to stop bluffing, or that I'm going to do this or that. But, then I never stop bluffing. I just react a lot of the time to things, and before I've thought things through, I've done it.... I perceive someone to be weak, and I make a bet at them, I think I'm ahead with a marginal hand and I call. When I'm playing well, is when things are on, this is usually in the first 8 hours of play, and then after that I am completely off, I can't perceive anything, I don't have the energy to bluff back at someone, intelligently, without just throwing all my chips into the pot from frustration.

Ok, sorry to be a bit mopey. I'm feeling a bit mopey.