This is not 38, This is Old 97

Home tournament last night. Approximately 25 players, same format at previously with two rebuys available. With the WSOP going on, several of the steady players are out in Vegas, so it was a motley crew of folks who showed up. I made some mental notes that perhaps there were going to be some unbluffable folks and some players who might make some charitable donations to the cause.

With that in mind, I decided to be patient. Of course, the second hand of the night I flopped the nuts when my Q,10 off hit a K,J,9 flop. It got a little worrisome when a second 9 came on the turn, with the levels being low and the game having just started, I didn't figure to make much but if by chance someone was slow (or mis) playing pocket jacks or kings, I was going to take my first rebuy sooner than expected. As it turns out, I was up against A,J and no J or 9 came on the river so I won a decent pot right off.

The next couple levels were pretty rough, as I mainly folded garbage and watched some big pots go on without me. Sets against top pair, that kind of thing. I got caught speculating a few times and dumped bottom pair in one instance and A,Q that had missed everything in another when I did pick up some hands.

But patience is something I pride myself on at a table and tonight I remembered it. Literally. After folding for awhile to some strange play, I got the itch to play. Anything. Any 2 cards.

But I didn't. I constantly reminded myself to make good plays and not to get antsy and start limping just to get the feel of being in the game.

Instead I waited. And I got bested when I flopped top pair in the BB with Q,8 and my middling stack was immediately called by the table captain and his A,Q. But I didn't panic, didn't think about how I had to shove immediately with my rebuy. The levels were at 100/200 when I rebought for 1500 and I was able to steal some blinds. Then, at 200/400 I woke up to Brooklyn, the borough of Kings. No brainer shove from 2nd position for 1700 but no one picked up anything. Bummer, but I rake the blinds. Now at 2300. Very next hand, painkillers: AcAs. I'm under the gun. The guy I rate as the most knowledgeable of the other players at my table is in the BB. He just watched me shove and pull the blinds and I didn't show. He's in for 400 already. Of all the people in the BB, I'm glad it's him, as he would be the most suspicious of my back to back moves. I shove, it comes around to him, he smiles and lays it down. He tells me that if he had any face card, he was going to call. I show him the aces to put in the back of his mind for later on, just in case.

Then, a few hands later, I get the hand that helped me the most through the middle stages of this game. A monster 5,10 offsuit. But I'm in an unopened pot in the SB and I limp. The BB follows suit and the flop is money: 10,5,3 rainbow. I check, BB bets 600, I shove and he instacalls with top pair. He doesn't match up his kicker and I'm doubled.

After this, patience. And more patience. It makes for a dull recap but a solid game. I rode my stack to the final table, where I got literally nothing for 3 rounds as the blinds crept up. Anything marginal and I was beaten to the pot by a shove or something to preclude my move. Finally, after joking to the table in an effort to remind everyone that I hadn't yet played, I look down at 2,2 in early position. My stack is marginal comparative to the others and not in good shape with regard to the blinds. I need to make something happen.

But I fold. A month ago I probably would have shoved after folding so much. Behind me comes a shove and a call. 6,6 and A,A. Bullets dodged, literally. (incidentally a 6 flopped and an A came on 4th street. Rough.)

So I wait. And finally, I get a break. In the BB, I look at 10,8 and three players limp. I check my option and get the sweetest sight: 7,9,J. Boo-yah baby. Needless to say, I raised it up after someone came in and doubled through them. It got me comfortable and a few hands later, I see the Brooklyn boys again. Again, they only rake me the blinds but the blinds are significant at this point and no need to risk a flopped ace when I can smell the money.

And then, the heavy lifting was done by others. After I had won a good pot when my A,7 turned into lucky sevens on the flop and turn, I sat back and folded as people got overagressive or desperate. Again, the blinds were big and I could have made moves with hands like A,8 but I didn't see the need when committing to a multi-way pot this late could bust me or cripple my stack. Here is where I was happiest with my patience. Throwing away openers that can play in order to achieve my goal of cashing. And cash I did. I ended up 3rd after my run of cards ended and I pushed from the button with Q,6. K,10 called and that was that when a 10 flopped.

A follow up tomorrow to break down a couple hands.

We Went Dutch, Dutch, Dutch

Anyone who is following Euro 2008 can't help but be impressed by the performance so far of the Dutch squad. Not only did they emerge from the so-called Group of Death, but they thoroughly obliterated their competition in doing so. Results like 3-0 over the World Cup champion Italians, 4-1 over the Cup runners-up French and 2-0 against #12 in the world Romania sent a powerful message to the rest of the world that this may be the time for the Netherlands. Their counterattacks have been cruel, doling out punishment to the sides who dared press forward or got caught napping, and in doing so exposed some glaring weaknesses in back of the French and Italian sides.

All this after coming in with what seemed to be a barrage of injuries to boot. The quarters promise some great matchups, Italy/Spain being perhaps foremost. Whichever side flops more should prevail. Who that will be is anyone's guess.

Anyone interested in a lighter take on all things soccer-related that happen from an English perspective should check out the following blog, a quality mix of sarcasm, humor and jealousy:

http://sniffingtt.blogspot.com

When you need to feel better about your game...

The facial expressions and reactions are priceless. If you ever need to cheer yourself up, just watch this over and over.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tN6wAHTWeEA

The Empty Bottle Was Half-Empty

Preface: I didn't mean for this post to be a story of bad beats but sometimes it's inevitable, like that brutal flush card on the river.

Losing money is never fun. Never. Sometimes, however, it is worse than others on the felt. I was victimized to the tune of a couple buy-ins in Atlantic City this weekend but came away shaking my head not in anger but in that semi-disbelief kind of way. (can disbelief be only semi? I'll have to check on that.)

Anyway, I sat at a 1-2 table with a 300 stack and felt like I had been put at the wrong table. From the 3 seat I watched and folded my first few hands as each pot was raised not to 10 or 12 or 15 but to 20 or 25 and then promptly reraised and called. The second hand I sat for was raised to 16 and the raiser got 5 callers. Immediately my thought was that this was a wiiiiiide open table and I needed to be patient and wait for a hand to slice and dice some of the loose action. However, watching everything go down I wondered if I would get the chance. A preflop re-raise (I had already folded) to 52 was called by 2 players and then one of the callers led out post-flop for about 125 and induced a fold, then flipped over a 2,7 off that had missed everything. The initial raiser who had folded under the bet was not happy and did some grouching about the call of 52 with such a hand. Me? I was salivating, just hoping to pick something up quickly while everyone was hot. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough. Two hands later, the same two guys tangled again, mixing it up preflop and clearing out the field. The flop came 3 diamonds and they tread cautiously, unusual for what I had seen thus far. However, once the river came with a blank, the fireworks started. Bet, raise, all-in, insta-call. The guy who had previously had the 2,7 had flopped the K high flush. His nemesis, however, had flopped the nut flush and not only raked in a 700 pot but threw in an unnecessary comment about the previous hand. The table rightfully pointed out that he should shut up about having been outplayed, particularly after winning a big hand right back.

Unfortunately, this left the pot-builder on a short stack and the other guy on a monster, which it became immediately evident he wasn't going to relinquish, as he went into hibernation and left the table about a half hour later. So things cooled down before I could heat up. As it turns out, I never did get the gas past about 3 on the dial. My position plays with marginal hands got raised and bet at post flop and when I picked up some monsters (A,A, K,K) I couldn't get the necessary action. And then the gods of the felt took some jabs at me. My A,Q ran into an A,K. My A,6 in position hit an A on the flop and my steadily increasing bets didn't force out a similarly suited A,8 and I was check-called down the whole way, culminating when we both made river flushes with our kickers. Pocket 3s when I was short-stacked and all in for 45 was called by Q,J off and a J hit the flop. In the BB, my Q,5 appeared huge when the flop came Q,5,3 only to actually be a massive dog, as my opponent had pocket 3s. Miraculously, he didn't bust me as he checked the river after rags on the last two streets. A,2 hit me for top and bottom pair on the flop only to fall victim to a flush on the turn when a flop bet couldn't chase out a chaser. Basically, the cards didn't fall for me. In any of these cases, a slight turn could have amounted to a big change in the course of my night. But they didn't. That's how it happens on occasion and I accept it.

I finally busted my second buy in (only 200 this time) when I had about 150 left and made a position call with Q,9 off in a multi-way pot. Flop came Q,3,2 rainbow and it was checked to me. I bet out and got one caller. Turn came with another Q and this time early position led out for more than the pot. Folded to me and I considered what could be. A few minutes I contemplated whether I could lay down three Queens in the face of only one big bet. The way I had been running all night was forefront in my mind, as was his check-call and overbet of the pot on the turn. Ultimately, I couldn't get away, though I suspected I had been trapped by a higher kicker. A blank came on the river and my opponent shoved. Now I knew I was beat but with only about 50 left behind, I made the call and sure enough K,Q was felted to best my kicker.

Running cold is one thing, running scared another. I left knowing I would catch up another day.