Posts
There are few opportunities to see the best athlete in a given sport perform at their absolute peak level. This past Saturday night was one of them. For three minutes, the world was treated to the best that boxing has to offer.
Floyd Mayweather, Jr. took on Ricky Hatten in a title fight at the MGM in Vegas and I duly invited my fight friends over and stocked the fridge with beer. Having seen the snooze-fest that was Mayweather/De La Hoya back in May, I was merely hoping for a few punches to connect, hell, for a few punches to be thrown. The May fight offered only a glimpse at any action, so the thought of a brawler like Hatten taking the fight to Mayweather offered more promise than that of De La Hoya doing anything, including not fighting, to avoid being hurt in his last pro fight. And Hatten did his part. He went after Mayweather. He wasn't landing consistently but he was dictating the pace of the fight. Prefight, he had said that he was willing to take two or three punches if he could land one of his own, figuring his would pack more power. What he didn't count on was Mayweather's defensive skill, his hand speed and his own inability to land his power punches once he got inside. What he really didn't count on was anything like Round 8.
Quite simply, Round 8 was as good a statement round I have ever seen a fighter have. It was not the best round of boxing, for nothing can top Hagler/Hearns round 1, but it was the moment when Floyd Mayweather, Jr. solidified his place in history. His decision over De La Hoya was a dull affair against a past-his-prime opponent and left more doubters than believers. This was different. He had an opponent who sported a 43-0 record, one with 31 KO's, one who was taking the fight at him. He had an arena of screaming, singing, cheering Brits urging his opponent on. He had a legion of disbelievers, myself and 8 others around me, wanting to see him get put on his butt. And he did what true champions, the true elite, do.
He shut us up.
Quickly.
Three minutes of absolute devastation, absolute domination. As good a three minutes as any fighter has ever had, he showed why he talks the way he does, why he thinks himself above the rest, above all of us. Give Hatten a shred of credit: he stayed on his feet. Most wouldn't have. As Mayweather was pummeling him (and there is no other real way to accurately put it) he took it, literally, on the chin. Again. And again. But when the bell rang to end the round, it rang for all the Hatten fans, all those of us who hoped he could shut Mayweather, Jr. up. This fight, while not yet done, was over. The nine people in my living room knew it. Hatten knew it. And more than any of us, Mayweather could smile because he had known it all along.
Hatten succumbed two rounds later, as vicious lefts from Mayweather, Jr. left him tumbling into the corner and then to the middle of the canvas, but that was merely an epilogue to the best chapter that Floyd Mayweather, Jr. has ever given us and probably ever will.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
Satellite Rides, part 2 - Heads Up
Who plays heads up poker?
Let me restate that. What I actually mean is, who practices playing heads up?
Tournaments, cash games, home games. All feature similar scenarios, the most common being that you're playing against a table full of players. You're playing pot odds, you're preying on weak opponents, you're playing position. Even if you're down to three handed, you can muck garbage in the face of a raise and call, you can pick a better spot, you can play your opponents' fears of the third player against them.
Heads up, however, there's no one else to scrap with, no one to juice up a pot out of position, no time off from the blinds and antes. I liken it to playing blackjack against the dealer in a six-deck shoe. Any card is possible at any given time. You can't figure that the raise you're staring at is not made by an oppenent holding eight high. It doesn't take a genius to figure the pot odds and most pots will end after the flop if not earlier. But still, after weeding through a table or a tournament of players, selectively picking spots to make moves, heads up forces you to mix it up, no matter your style of play. You're in every hand. Loose is not even the proper word for it. It's the blackjack dealer firing you five straight ten-deuces while the house shows an ace each time. How are you going to play?
Back to me.
After flopping a boat and subsequently whittling the table to two, I had a slight chip lead, perhaps 25k to 20k. Blinds were at 300/600 and my opponent was a good one. Last year he had won both my super-satellite table and the following "winners" table of all the super-satellite winners to punch his ticket into the WSOP Main Event. Last year, he fought back from an improbable chip deficit to whip me heads up.
And so we began.
Things started well for me. We quickly established the standard pre-flop raise and I took down a few pots, incrementally increasing my advantage. A potentially disastrous hand for me was salvaged in the following way. I held 10,5 off and the flop came J,10,x, with no flush draw. I bet and he called. Turn brought an A. I checked and he checked behind me. River brought me a 5 and I made a 3K value bet. He made a reluctant call telling me that my bet was the perfect amount and he had to see the ace that I held. He turned over J,x and went green as he realized he was ahead until the river and his check had allowed me to hang around long enough to win on fifth street. He started muttering about how poorly he had played the hand. I just smiled and went all in the next three hands, which he mucked. Now he was shifting back and forth and telling the guys we had busted that he was getting leaned on. And he was. I put the pressure on even more, hoping to lure him into shipping it on my terms, and not allowing him to wait for a hand. Somewhat questionably, I pushed all in with A,J off preflop hoping he would wake up to a smaller ace or perhaps something like J,10. He didn't and folded. All the while, however, I was keenly aware that a single double up would shift our spots and give him the chip lead.
A,K. In a normal situation, it's longed for, overbet, cursed and cherished. Heads up, it's a monster. I drew it for the first time all day and raised on the button (small blind) up to 3k (blinds now 400/800) and got a call. Flop was all rags and my opponent pushed all in. My thoughts were as follows: He called my 2200 raise. He's making a stand. But did he hit the flop? Did he need to hit the flop? It was a perfect flop for a small wired hand. I thought about it for a minute or so and tossed it. A double up at that point puts me down. I didn't need to make the play, right there, right then. He showed bottom pair. A,K is, after all, only ace high.
Back and forth we went, trading pots, grinding each other. And then the momentum swung. I had another Q,10 off. I raised, he called. Flop came 10 high. He checked. I decided to get tricky. He had been pushing in whenever he sensed weakness and I wanted to give him some. I checked behind him. Ace came on the turn and I got what I wanted as he pushed all in. The only problem now was the ace. Did he check a low flop with ace high? I thought about it and called. He flipped over A,Q. I could only smile at my misstep. The river brought a Q, giving us both two pair, his higher.
Now he had the chip lead. He began leaning on me, grinding me down. Seemingly any raise he pushed in. The cards that I was raising with and betting post-flop kept coming but now they looked different, weaker. Did I really want to risk everything with them? After a few lost pots in a row and my stack shrinking, I knew that I would have to or exactly what I had hoped to do to my opponent would happen to me: being forced to move in on his terms.
So I battled back with the best weapon at my disposal, the all-in. Four of five hands I went in pre or post flop, three of them with total junk. Not wanting to relinquish his advantage, he folded.
And on we went, firing away at one another. An hour had passed and only two hands had made it to the river when I looked down on the button and saw 8s,10s. I raised the 800BB to 2400. He re-raised to 6000. I counted out my stack and found it at about 11,600. His raise was unusual and enough to elicit suspicion. He wanted me to push. Perhaps I should have laid it down and I don't think I was getting the right odds to call (2.3 to 1) but I did. The flop brought me some help: K,J,9 with one spade. And here is where heads up play is unique. My first thought upon seeing the flop was "All in." Unfortunately, he was first to act. His thought: "All-in." I could only smile. With 20k in the pot and 8k in front of me I was getting 2.5 to 1. I figured my 8 and 10 were live. If all my straight draws were live, I would have 14 outs, roughly 31% to win IF he didn't already have an over pair to my 8 or 10. More importantly, I only had 8k left. I fold and his 37k stack is going to put me in every hand. I went for it.
He looked at me, dismayed, and said something I wanted to hear "You got me." I looked at him and said "Not just yet." We flipped and he showed A,3 off. My 14 outs were all live, all I could hope for.
Turn came Ks, giving me the flush draw. I now had 20 cards to win against his 24.
But it was not to be. The board paired again with a red nine, making Ks and 9s with his ace playing.
And again, he got the better of me heads up.
Could I have won?
Sure.
Did I play well?
Mostly.
Am I comfortable heads up?
Definitely not.
After all, who practices heads up?
Let me restate that. What I actually mean is, who practices playing heads up?
Tournaments, cash games, home games. All feature similar scenarios, the most common being that you're playing against a table full of players. You're playing pot odds, you're preying on weak opponents, you're playing position. Even if you're down to three handed, you can muck garbage in the face of a raise and call, you can pick a better spot, you can play your opponents' fears of the third player against them.
Heads up, however, there's no one else to scrap with, no one to juice up a pot out of position, no time off from the blinds and antes. I liken it to playing blackjack against the dealer in a six-deck shoe. Any card is possible at any given time. You can't figure that the raise you're staring at is not made by an oppenent holding eight high. It doesn't take a genius to figure the pot odds and most pots will end after the flop if not earlier. But still, after weeding through a table or a tournament of players, selectively picking spots to make moves, heads up forces you to mix it up, no matter your style of play. You're in every hand. Loose is not even the proper word for it. It's the blackjack dealer firing you five straight ten-deuces while the house shows an ace each time. How are you going to play?
Back to me.
After flopping a boat and subsequently whittling the table to two, I had a slight chip lead, perhaps 25k to 20k. Blinds were at 300/600 and my opponent was a good one. Last year he had won both my super-satellite table and the following "winners" table of all the super-satellite winners to punch his ticket into the WSOP Main Event. Last year, he fought back from an improbable chip deficit to whip me heads up.
And so we began.
Things started well for me. We quickly established the standard pre-flop raise and I took down a few pots, incrementally increasing my advantage. A potentially disastrous hand for me was salvaged in the following way. I held 10,5 off and the flop came J,10,x, with no flush draw. I bet and he called. Turn brought an A. I checked and he checked behind me. River brought me a 5 and I made a 3K value bet. He made a reluctant call telling me that my bet was the perfect amount and he had to see the ace that I held. He turned over J,x and went green as he realized he was ahead until the river and his check had allowed me to hang around long enough to win on fifth street. He started muttering about how poorly he had played the hand. I just smiled and went all in the next three hands, which he mucked. Now he was shifting back and forth and telling the guys we had busted that he was getting leaned on. And he was. I put the pressure on even more, hoping to lure him into shipping it on my terms, and not allowing him to wait for a hand. Somewhat questionably, I pushed all in with A,J off preflop hoping he would wake up to a smaller ace or perhaps something like J,10. He didn't and folded. All the while, however, I was keenly aware that a single double up would shift our spots and give him the chip lead.
A,K. In a normal situation, it's longed for, overbet, cursed and cherished. Heads up, it's a monster. I drew it for the first time all day and raised on the button (small blind) up to 3k (blinds now 400/800) and got a call. Flop was all rags and my opponent pushed all in. My thoughts were as follows: He called my 2200 raise. He's making a stand. But did he hit the flop? Did he need to hit the flop? It was a perfect flop for a small wired hand. I thought about it for a minute or so and tossed it. A double up at that point puts me down. I didn't need to make the play, right there, right then. He showed bottom pair. A,K is, after all, only ace high.
Back and forth we went, trading pots, grinding each other. And then the momentum swung. I had another Q,10 off. I raised, he called. Flop came 10 high. He checked. I decided to get tricky. He had been pushing in whenever he sensed weakness and I wanted to give him some. I checked behind him. Ace came on the turn and I got what I wanted as he pushed all in. The only problem now was the ace. Did he check a low flop with ace high? I thought about it and called. He flipped over A,Q. I could only smile at my misstep. The river brought a Q, giving us both two pair, his higher.
Now he had the chip lead. He began leaning on me, grinding me down. Seemingly any raise he pushed in. The cards that I was raising with and betting post-flop kept coming but now they looked different, weaker. Did I really want to risk everything with them? After a few lost pots in a row and my stack shrinking, I knew that I would have to or exactly what I had hoped to do to my opponent would happen to me: being forced to move in on his terms.
So I battled back with the best weapon at my disposal, the all-in. Four of five hands I went in pre or post flop, three of them with total junk. Not wanting to relinquish his advantage, he folded.
And on we went, firing away at one another. An hour had passed and only two hands had made it to the river when I looked down on the button and saw 8s,10s. I raised the 800BB to 2400. He re-raised to 6000. I counted out my stack and found it at about 11,600. His raise was unusual and enough to elicit suspicion. He wanted me to push. Perhaps I should have laid it down and I don't think I was getting the right odds to call (2.3 to 1) but I did. The flop brought me some help: K,J,9 with one spade. And here is where heads up play is unique. My first thought upon seeing the flop was "All in." Unfortunately, he was first to act. His thought: "All-in." I could only smile. With 20k in the pot and 8k in front of me I was getting 2.5 to 1. I figured my 8 and 10 were live. If all my straight draws were live, I would have 14 outs, roughly 31% to win IF he didn't already have an over pair to my 8 or 10. More importantly, I only had 8k left. I fold and his 37k stack is going to put me in every hand. I went for it.
He looked at me, dismayed, and said something I wanted to hear "You got me." I looked at him and said "Not just yet." We flipped and he showed A,3 off. My 14 outs were all live, all I could hope for.
Turn came Ks, giving me the flush draw. I now had 20 cards to win against his 24.
But it was not to be. The board paired again with a red nine, making Ks and 9s with his ace playing.
And again, he got the better of me heads up.
Could I have won?
Sure.
Did I play well?
Mostly.
Am I comfortable heads up?
Definitely not.
After all, who practices heads up?
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Satellite Rides
Each year, I host a super-satellite table as part of a friend's poker tournment. The premise arose when we decided we knew enough people interested in poker to send one of our own to the WSOP main event. A bunch of us run super-satellite tables, give the table's entry money to the winner, let the winners square off later on and the lone figure to emerge heads to Vegas with his Moneymaker dreams in tow.
So last year I was the victim of one of the greatest heads-up collapses or comebacks, depending on your point of view. I was slightly behind in chips when I got the best of an all in battle and took a commanding 38-2 chip advantage. After sucking out on his first all in in the hand immediately following (J,8 vs. J,5) my opponent won a race (2 overs against 4,4) to double up again to 8k and then went all in several more times in a row, which I couldn't call with terrible cards. I don't remember how it went exactly after that but suffice it to say with the blinds at 500/1000 he made some good plays and regained a small advantage before we again went all in and he took it down. Not my finest hour.
So on to this year. We operate with a rebuy system and my nemesis drew the seat to my right. Nine players. After about 90 minutes he went all in and I caught him on a draw with my top pair and busted him. He rebought and kept battling though, grinding his way back to respectability. Meanwhile, I was playing well, as well as I feel like I have perhaps ever. I was catching guys when I made hands and I was bluffing when I didn't. Even a misread turned my way, as I called a postflop bet with nothing, confident my opponent was on a bluff and I could take the pot away from him on later streets, then hit the turn and the river to allow the cards to do it for me.
The crux of the game was destined to come down to a final showdown and big hands made it happen. First, my nemesis cut the table from five to three when he got himself tangled in a three-way all-in pot with only Q,10 off, finding himself pot-committed but fortunate as a Q hit and held off his opponents' A,4 and A,K. Then, my own Q,10 got large as a flop hit 10,10,Q and my opponent, wired and disbelieving of my strength, fired at the flop (smooth call) and pushed in after the turn.
So there we were. Me and my nemesis. Side by side and face to face.
Again.
to be continued...
So last year I was the victim of one of the greatest heads-up collapses or comebacks, depending on your point of view. I was slightly behind in chips when I got the best of an all in battle and took a commanding 38-2 chip advantage. After sucking out on his first all in in the hand immediately following (J,8 vs. J,5) my opponent won a race (2 overs against 4,4) to double up again to 8k and then went all in several more times in a row, which I couldn't call with terrible cards. I don't remember how it went exactly after that but suffice it to say with the blinds at 500/1000 he made some good plays and regained a small advantage before we again went all in and he took it down. Not my finest hour.
So on to this year. We operate with a rebuy system and my nemesis drew the seat to my right. Nine players. After about 90 minutes he went all in and I caught him on a draw with my top pair and busted him. He rebought and kept battling though, grinding his way back to respectability. Meanwhile, I was playing well, as well as I feel like I have perhaps ever. I was catching guys when I made hands and I was bluffing when I didn't. Even a misread turned my way, as I called a postflop bet with nothing, confident my opponent was on a bluff and I could take the pot away from him on later streets, then hit the turn and the river to allow the cards to do it for me.
The crux of the game was destined to come down to a final showdown and big hands made it happen. First, my nemesis cut the table from five to three when he got himself tangled in a three-way all-in pot with only Q,10 off, finding himself pot-committed but fortunate as a Q hit and held off his opponents' A,4 and A,K. Then, my own Q,10 got large as a flop hit 10,10,Q and my opponent, wired and disbelieving of my strength, fired at the flop (smooth call) and pushed in after the turn.
So there we were. Me and my nemesis. Side by side and face to face.
Again.
to be continued...
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
South Florida Sunstroke
Am I a pussy?
Is it better to take a decent profit away from a table without making the play, the one play, that could potentially double or triple that profit or is it better to make that play, even though it could cost you all your winnings and then some?
Here's how it went: I was at the Hard Rock casino in Ft. Lauderdale. Nice enough facility, competent dealers, got in a game right away on a Sunday at noon. I sat at a 1,2 NL table, bought in for $200 and quickly realized that the table was tight as a drum preflop but more than willing to pay off winning hands and make calls when they should pitch. No better example than watching a young guy fire at a pot post-flop, turn and river, incrementally increasing his bets, and get called by a guy who had third-best pair on board. Third best. And he won, as the guy firing was on a stone bluff and busted. Have to love seeing those kind of backdoor wins that are completely undeserving. Let the meat feel good about those chips and wait for a hand with him, I tell myself.
I got rags for a few hands and watched the limp-fest. Luckily, the guys in the one and three seats mixed it up a little and I got to see a couple showdowns as well as a couple nice face-up laydowns by the one seat and the winner showing his hand as well. So finally, onto my rush. A half hour in, I hit top pair, fire three times, get called down and win a decent pot. This is followed by a chop, hitting trips three out of four hands (deuces twice, treys the other) and mixing up my action nicely to disguise my strength, a boat a few hands after that when I was wired with 10s and another guy went all in with A,7 off preflop and a second boat when my wired 5s hit on the turn in a nice three-way pot and boated on the river. The deck was steamrolling me and these guys refused to accept that any of my raises were legit, pre or post flop. Just a great combo of events. I even took advantage of the rush to play a suited 3,9 (preflop raiser raised to $5!) and hit two pair on a flop to take down another pot. As another player sat to my left (I was in the 8 seat) the Israeli guy in the 10 seat told him not to get into any pots with me because no matter what I had, I hit it. Finally, the table started avoiding me and I began to use that respect to my advantage, raising limped pots and watching the dominoes fold, acting as if their hands were radioactive. Mind you, this was all in roughly an hour and I had taken this table over. I had notched up to over six hundred and was the table's big stack.
And then, I faltered.
Family pot scenario, someone made a miniscule raise, perhaps to $6 and there were six or seven callers. I have offsuit red 5,10 in late position and make the call as well. Flop brings J, 10, 3 with two clubs. The one seat bets $12. One caller and I make the call as well. Turn brings the 5 of clubs. One seat bets $15, other guy folds, I immediately raise to $50 (for this table, a significant raise. Most raises higher than $20 have been insta-folded.). One seat doesn't like it, immediately goes in the tank, talking at me, talking to the dealer, trying to get a read on me. He shows his cards to the dealer as he watches me, seeing if I react to his phony laydown. I know he's not on the flush. If he is, he's a great actor. I'm positive he's going to lay it down, that he has top pair and he's posturing for effect. My two pair is ahead and I've raised him out of the pot. I'm berating myself on the inside. This table is tightly wound drum, of course he'll fold to any raise.
Then he calls.
And I have fifteen seconds of confusion. On the inside, I'm trying to figure his hands. A,J with a club? That would be an insta-call for an extra $35, plus he would have re-raised preflop. Was his posturing masking something like trip 3s? Did he make a low flush and he's giving me credit for a higher one? As all this flashes through my mind, the river brings a blank. One seat checks to me.
And I freeze. I know that in that second I should fire but I haven't played NL in four months and by all standards, I'm still a novice, particularly when it comes to managing a stack. If I fire $100, is that enough? The pot is maybe $180. He is second stack at the table, perhaps $150 less than me. If I push all in, he's only calling me with hands that beat me. My hour long rush would be for naught and I'd be in the hole an additional fifty.
If I push, top pair goes away. A low flush likely does as well. I should push.
But I don't.
I check. He turns over J,10. Top two. I muck.
My table mystique is broken. The kid in the three seat says "That's the first pot he's lost." The one seat rakes in the pot and I kick myself. A couple hours later, I cash out, up about $250 profit. Not bad for my first session in four months but I can't get that pot out of my head. I win that, and I add to my big stack, keep control of the table and keeping my rush going. Instead, now the one seat has a comparable stack and my bullying time cools down quickly.
Alternately, his crying call after the turn might indicate that he would have called the rest of his stack. So I walk away with a profit. It could have been larger. It could have been nonexistent. I am on vacation. I am happy with the money. I tell myself this.
But I still feel like a pussy.
Is it better to take a decent profit away from a table without making the play, the one play, that could potentially double or triple that profit or is it better to make that play, even though it could cost you all your winnings and then some?
Here's how it went: I was at the Hard Rock casino in Ft. Lauderdale. Nice enough facility, competent dealers, got in a game right away on a Sunday at noon. I sat at a 1,2 NL table, bought in for $200 and quickly realized that the table was tight as a drum preflop but more than willing to pay off winning hands and make calls when they should pitch. No better example than watching a young guy fire at a pot post-flop, turn and river, incrementally increasing his bets, and get called by a guy who had third-best pair on board. Third best. And he won, as the guy firing was on a stone bluff and busted. Have to love seeing those kind of backdoor wins that are completely undeserving. Let the meat feel good about those chips and wait for a hand with him, I tell myself.
I got rags for a few hands and watched the limp-fest. Luckily, the guys in the one and three seats mixed it up a little and I got to see a couple showdowns as well as a couple nice face-up laydowns by the one seat and the winner showing his hand as well. So finally, onto my rush. A half hour in, I hit top pair, fire three times, get called down and win a decent pot. This is followed by a chop, hitting trips three out of four hands (deuces twice, treys the other) and mixing up my action nicely to disguise my strength, a boat a few hands after that when I was wired with 10s and another guy went all in with A,7 off preflop and a second boat when my wired 5s hit on the turn in a nice three-way pot and boated on the river. The deck was steamrolling me and these guys refused to accept that any of my raises were legit, pre or post flop. Just a great combo of events. I even took advantage of the rush to play a suited 3,9 (preflop raiser raised to $5!) and hit two pair on a flop to take down another pot. As another player sat to my left (I was in the 8 seat) the Israeli guy in the 10 seat told him not to get into any pots with me because no matter what I had, I hit it. Finally, the table started avoiding me and I began to use that respect to my advantage, raising limped pots and watching the dominoes fold, acting as if their hands were radioactive. Mind you, this was all in roughly an hour and I had taken this table over. I had notched up to over six hundred and was the table's big stack.
And then, I faltered.
Family pot scenario, someone made a miniscule raise, perhaps to $6 and there were six or seven callers. I have offsuit red 5,10 in late position and make the call as well. Flop brings J, 10, 3 with two clubs. The one seat bets $12. One caller and I make the call as well. Turn brings the 5 of clubs. One seat bets $15, other guy folds, I immediately raise to $50 (for this table, a significant raise. Most raises higher than $20 have been insta-folded.). One seat doesn't like it, immediately goes in the tank, talking at me, talking to the dealer, trying to get a read on me. He shows his cards to the dealer as he watches me, seeing if I react to his phony laydown. I know he's not on the flush. If he is, he's a great actor. I'm positive he's going to lay it down, that he has top pair and he's posturing for effect. My two pair is ahead and I've raised him out of the pot. I'm berating myself on the inside. This table is tightly wound drum, of course he'll fold to any raise.
Then he calls.
And I have fifteen seconds of confusion. On the inside, I'm trying to figure his hands. A,J with a club? That would be an insta-call for an extra $35, plus he would have re-raised preflop. Was his posturing masking something like trip 3s? Did he make a low flush and he's giving me credit for a higher one? As all this flashes through my mind, the river brings a blank. One seat checks to me.
And I freeze. I know that in that second I should fire but I haven't played NL in four months and by all standards, I'm still a novice, particularly when it comes to managing a stack. If I fire $100, is that enough? The pot is maybe $180. He is second stack at the table, perhaps $150 less than me. If I push all in, he's only calling me with hands that beat me. My hour long rush would be for naught and I'd be in the hole an additional fifty.
If I push, top pair goes away. A low flush likely does as well. I should push.
But I don't.
I check. He turns over J,10. Top two. I muck.
My table mystique is broken. The kid in the three seat says "That's the first pot he's lost." The one seat rakes in the pot and I kick myself. A couple hours later, I cash out, up about $250 profit. Not bad for my first session in four months but I can't get that pot out of my head. I win that, and I add to my big stack, keep control of the table and keeping my rush going. Instead, now the one seat has a comparable stack and my bullying time cools down quickly.
Alternately, his crying call after the turn might indicate that he would have called the rest of his stack. So I walk away with a profit. It could have been larger. It could have been nonexistent. I am on vacation. I am happy with the money. I tell myself this.
But I still feel like a pussy.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
The Mental Exam
It's early August and pro football teams have begun their training camps. Each year there are a handful or more of big name veterans who make the rounds of the teams with specific needs, looking to be that one final piece of the puzzle that can elevate the team to playoff or title contention, or perhaps just looking for one final payday before fading off into obscurity. As you read about these guys, inevitably each article written about them visiting team X mentions how he came in for a physical. The team of course wants to ensure its potential investment by confirming the player's physical readiness and make sure he's up to the rigors of the game. Which left me wondering about the other side of it, the mental side. How many of these guys are mentally up for joining another team, mentally committed to the grind of the season with new teammates, how many are just looking for a chance to pad their statistics in the hope of extending their career beyond that one? Some, of course, are hard-wired to compete at their fullest level regardless of situation. Some, obviously not. Each has their own motivations and results vary.
What the hell does this have to do with poker? Well, I have recently been thinking a lot about the mental aspect of poker, about imposing your will upon other players when needed, about sitting down at a table with a plan of attack and implementing it. About really focusing on playing the opponent, playing the table and letting the cards support your actions, rather than the reverse. A self-given mental exam, before sitting down at the table if you will. Figuring out what you plan to do, taking stock of yourself before pulling back that chair. Even as little as planning one play per session, one scenario where you have the plan of how you're going to play it, sticking with it when the scenario happens, then testing it over and over and seeing the results. The pot sizes, stack sizes, ablility and makeup of your opponents will vary each time so keeping mental notes (or even physical ones) of these variables and the results can yield helpful information. The mental ability to stick with your plan, even in the face of adversity and knowing that over the long haul, that this play will make you better in that you know its results, you've tested it, is not just limited to that play but to the ability and commitment to improving your game. Each session might not yield a winner but if your game improves, so will your winning sessions. Next time you play, do yourself a favor and give yourself a quick mental exam, have a plan ready to go, so that you aren't that lost player wandering from table to table, looking for the elusive payday before fading into the poker obscurity, also known as a 1-2 limit game.
What the hell does this have to do with poker? Well, I have recently been thinking a lot about the mental aspect of poker, about imposing your will upon other players when needed, about sitting down at a table with a plan of attack and implementing it. About really focusing on playing the opponent, playing the table and letting the cards support your actions, rather than the reverse. A self-given mental exam, before sitting down at the table if you will. Figuring out what you plan to do, taking stock of yourself before pulling back that chair. Even as little as planning one play per session, one scenario where you have the plan of how you're going to play it, sticking with it when the scenario happens, then testing it over and over and seeing the results. The pot sizes, stack sizes, ablility and makeup of your opponents will vary each time so keeping mental notes (or even physical ones) of these variables and the results can yield helpful information. The mental ability to stick with your plan, even in the face of adversity and knowing that over the long haul, that this play will make you better in that you know its results, you've tested it, is not just limited to that play but to the ability and commitment to improving your game. Each session might not yield a winner but if your game improves, so will your winning sessions. Next time you play, do yourself a favor and give yourself a quick mental exam, have a plan ready to go, so that you aren't that lost player wandering from table to table, looking for the elusive payday before fading into the poker obscurity, also known as a 1-2 limit game.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)