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Well, my rebuy tournament didn't go as I planned. It went so poorly, in fact, that I can recap it in only a few sentences. Basically, I caught a brutal table draw of good players and add in 3 wild card players who redefined the term loose and it became a terror zone. Any pot entered was likely to become a decision for my stack after one of the wild guys tripled up and then subsequently doubled up again. He politely donated back to a few strong players around me but I had dreck to look at. He then busted me twice in quick order when I got it in with A,J against his 8,8 (8s played well for him in the time I was there) and then when I had As10s against his A4 off. An ace flopped for both of us and gave me a four flush to the nuts. Unfortunately, he turned a non-spade 4 to best me again and that was that. Barely played any hands, didn't make it out of the 3rd level, even with 2 rebuys.
Moving on to a more successful tale, I have run well in cash games for a couple weeks and had hands hold up in big pots. K,K in multi way action and no ace hit the board, a set faded a straight draw, top pairs have been good for small/medium pots. Only time I can remember even throwing a moderately bad beat on a guy was when I had K,J and the flop came K, 8, 4. I bet at it the whole way and the board threw a J on the river for me, which was enough to best a guy's 4, 8 two pair flop.
One hand that I lost for a decent amount is one that I question if there is any way to avoid losing the amount I did. I'll put it out there and see what everyone thinks. Preflop, I raised to $10 and was called by 2 players when I held AhQh. The flop came with an ace and one heart. I felt I was likely ahead and had just accumulated a few big pots so decided to mix up my play since my opponents were both playing a bit tight. I checked-called the flop for $15 with one of the players dropping out. Turn brought me the nut flush draw to go with my aces. I check-raised a $20 bet to $60 and was then set all in by my opponent for an additional $65 or so, an opponent who, again, was playing tight previously. I called and she had flopped a set of 7s. Now, I don't think that there probably would have been any way I could avoid doubling her up (I missed my flush on the river) since I'm not going anywhere on the flop or the turn unless she raises me out of the pot (likely on the flop) for some reason, but I have been running through various scenarios that might have allowed me to perhaps make a big laydown. I'm not saying that I believe that I could have or should have done it, as I had her easily covered at the time but am just speculating and wondering if there is any way that hand could have played out to allow me to scram.
Any thoughts?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Controlling Pot Size
As the title of this post suggests, I have been focusing on the aspect of controlling pot size, be it trying to play small ball or trying to maximize winning hands. I noticed that I tended to always make a continuation bet post flop after raising preflop and on the occasions that I missed the flop entirely, that is, almost all the time, I was getting myself into situations where the size of the pot was making decisions for me about my play, rather than my holding or my read of the situation and opponent. Basically speaking, I was forcing myself to play hands by creating bigger pots, whether or not I was ahead or behind, and in doing so, was systematically whittling my stack in the event of a no-draw/bluff only type of situation. Now, I am not saying that I am not a believer in making continuation bets, only that I realized that I was doing it systematically, as if by rote and as with any mechanical, repetitive type of play, it becomes obvious to opponents what is happening and they adjust and react. So in talking with a friend about my play, he suggested trying to control pots with check/calls and check/raises to mix things up, to make the 3-bet or 4-bet preflop to weed out speculative hands when playing from ahead and go back to playing a more fundamental game from position. He also suggested that in the rebuy tournaments that I play often, in trying to trap a lot more with the big pairs early on, as the structure is such that the starting stack size can get committed to a pot awfully quickly early on. In essence, using that to my advantage, as opposed to seeing it as a hindrance. The same with trying to play small ball and keeping pots reasonable when flopping something like middle pair or a decent draw.
In any event, I am playing one of these tourneys tonight and will report back on how it goes.
In any event, I am playing one of these tourneys tonight and will report back on how it goes.
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Four Aces
I should have won, no doubt. The cards ran me down in the way that I always dream they will, in the way that I always complain that others always luck into, but never me, unlike every other card player in the known universe. The way that always leaves me assuredly stating that "if I had gotten run over like that, I would have won too."
But I didn't.
How good was it for me? Really good. Really, really good. I got pocket aces four times in the span of four and a half hours. And regardless of what else may have happened the rest of the night, that should be enough.
But it wasn't.
A brief description: forty-some person home tournament, 30 minute levels, two rebuys available. I won the first hand of the night opening standard 3x from mid-position with king high and getting no takers. A harbinger, perhaps? Just two hands later I look down at my first pleasant surprise of the night, A,A. Unfortunately, it gets folded to me in late position. I again make a standard 3x raise, certain that at the very least one of the blinds will look me up this early on.
But they don't.
And I again sweep only the blinds. This early on, it didn't really bother me too much. Sure, I always want action, lots of action, lots of big action, with aces but with everyone at the same stack and generally just settling into the tournament, it was easy enough to take it in stride and move on to the next hand.
And sure enough not twenty minutes later, still in the first 30 minute level, I look down again at A,A. This time, under the gun limps for 50, second to act also limps and third to act, I raise to 200. The button and the BB both call, as do the two early position limpers. Five to the flop, we see 8, 9, J with two spades. The BB checks, the initial limper bets 250 and the guy next to him calls. At this point, with 1500 in the pot and about 1250 in my stack, a standard raise could price in any and all draws and leave me pot-committed regardless of the turn card. So I put it all in, knowing that if someone has a made hand like Q,10 I can just rebuy and not really be shortstacked, as we're still at 25/50. But it gets folded around to the guy next to me, who chews on a call for a minute or two before finally pitching his hand and I drag a decent pot.
I win a few more before I run into some bad luck, when I raise preflop and my A,J hits a J high flop and I bet at it, get one caller and then shove for about 1100 when the turn brings a rag and again get a call. The caller turns over 9,7 for a pair of 9s (second pair on the flop) and I'm in great shape until the river brings a 7 to felt me. Arg. Rebuy.
I tilt a little and right away shove my stack in when I connect (perhaps middle pair, don't remember specifically) on the first flop post-rebuy. Luckily, no one calls and I remember feeling happy that no one did and recognizing that I had gotten away with an awful play. But winning that hand did settle me down a bit. It went a bit choppy afterward, as I again lost a good-sized pot to a river card but then immediately doubled back up when I lucked into a set with pocket 3s against pocket Ks.
I hover for a level or so and then the big guns come back. A,A on the button at the 300/600 level. Juicy, right? Well, not so much when everyone folds to me, I raise and the blinds (one of which was the chip leader) fold as well. Sweep the blinds, not insignificant, but unlike the earlier fold to my raise, at this point in the tournament, a big pot could indeed propel me to a cushy position, as there are only about 15 players remaining, so not being able to capitalize with them stings.
So not long after, I incredulously stare down at yet another A,A, this time from early position. Under the gun folds, I again raise, this time varying my raise a little, perhaps worried that I am tipping my hands, so I make it an even 2000 to go (still 300/600). No one takes my raise variation as a read of a middle pair or a weak ace and again, it gets folded to me and now I just am dazed. Four times with aces and no flops on three of them? Ouch.
My daze continues when the very next hand I see 9,9 and limp from under the gun, as the button is on a very good, aggressive player. And it folds to him and he shoves. I call, as his range is very big here but he has AcQc and he turns a queen to win a very big pot. I have him covered but now I'm a short stack and the blinds are moving to 400/800 momentarily. I shove shortly thereafter and lose but rebuy again in hopes that perhaps, just perhaps, I can pick up A,A one more time and get back in it.
But I don't.
But I didn't.
How good was it for me? Really good. Really, really good. I got pocket aces four times in the span of four and a half hours. And regardless of what else may have happened the rest of the night, that should be enough.
But it wasn't.
A brief description: forty-some person home tournament, 30 minute levels, two rebuys available. I won the first hand of the night opening standard 3x from mid-position with king high and getting no takers. A harbinger, perhaps? Just two hands later I look down at my first pleasant surprise of the night, A,A. Unfortunately, it gets folded to me in late position. I again make a standard 3x raise, certain that at the very least one of the blinds will look me up this early on.
But they don't.
And I again sweep only the blinds. This early on, it didn't really bother me too much. Sure, I always want action, lots of action, lots of big action, with aces but with everyone at the same stack and generally just settling into the tournament, it was easy enough to take it in stride and move on to the next hand.
And sure enough not twenty minutes later, still in the first 30 minute level, I look down again at A,A. This time, under the gun limps for 50, second to act also limps and third to act, I raise to 200. The button and the BB both call, as do the two early position limpers. Five to the flop, we see 8, 9, J with two spades. The BB checks, the initial limper bets 250 and the guy next to him calls. At this point, with 1500 in the pot and about 1250 in my stack, a standard raise could price in any and all draws and leave me pot-committed regardless of the turn card. So I put it all in, knowing that if someone has a made hand like Q,10 I can just rebuy and not really be shortstacked, as we're still at 25/50. But it gets folded around to the guy next to me, who chews on a call for a minute or two before finally pitching his hand and I drag a decent pot.
I win a few more before I run into some bad luck, when I raise preflop and my A,J hits a J high flop and I bet at it, get one caller and then shove for about 1100 when the turn brings a rag and again get a call. The caller turns over 9,7 for a pair of 9s (second pair on the flop) and I'm in great shape until the river brings a 7 to felt me. Arg. Rebuy.
I tilt a little and right away shove my stack in when I connect (perhaps middle pair, don't remember specifically) on the first flop post-rebuy. Luckily, no one calls and I remember feeling happy that no one did and recognizing that I had gotten away with an awful play. But winning that hand did settle me down a bit. It went a bit choppy afterward, as I again lost a good-sized pot to a river card but then immediately doubled back up when I lucked into a set with pocket 3s against pocket Ks.
I hover for a level or so and then the big guns come back. A,A on the button at the 300/600 level. Juicy, right? Well, not so much when everyone folds to me, I raise and the blinds (one of which was the chip leader) fold as well. Sweep the blinds, not insignificant, but unlike the earlier fold to my raise, at this point in the tournament, a big pot could indeed propel me to a cushy position, as there are only about 15 players remaining, so not being able to capitalize with them stings.
So not long after, I incredulously stare down at yet another A,A, this time from early position. Under the gun folds, I again raise, this time varying my raise a little, perhaps worried that I am tipping my hands, so I make it an even 2000 to go (still 300/600). No one takes my raise variation as a read of a middle pair or a weak ace and again, it gets folded to me and now I just am dazed. Four times with aces and no flops on three of them? Ouch.
My daze continues when the very next hand I see 9,9 and limp from under the gun, as the button is on a very good, aggressive player. And it folds to him and he shoves. I call, as his range is very big here but he has AcQc and he turns a queen to win a very big pot. I have him covered but now I'm a short stack and the blinds are moving to 400/800 momentarily. I shove shortly thereafter and lose but rebuy again in hopes that perhaps, just perhaps, I can pick up A,A one more time and get back in it.
But I don't.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Bombs away...
Been playing more frequently the past few weeks, mixing in cash games with home tourneys and generally feel like I'm getting back into step. Of course, I have made a couple of boneheaded plays in each game to go along with some quality moves so I feel like I have come out about even in terms of my overall play.
Here is a key hand to note from one of my cash games (home game, NLHE, 1,2 blinds).
From early position a player raised the $2 BB to $7 and got an early position caller, a mid-position caller and a call from the button. In the BB, I looked down at A,J off and raised it up to $21. Both early position players folded, the mid-position player called and the button folded. Now, I have played with the caller previously and know him to be a very good, smart player. I suspected that his call (both of the $7 and then of the $14) was a speculative one, as he is definitely the type who would have raised the early position raisers with any good holding and absolutely the type who would have come over the top of my reraise with a premium holding. Though out of position, I felt good about my read and all signs told me that I was ahead.
Flop brought out 9,9,x and I continued for $25 into $64. He immediately came over and upped it to $75 and I broke the play down. And here is where I needed to perhaps adjust my thought process a bit and I'll point out why. Having put him on nothing preflop, and based on our past playing history together, I felt he believed he could take the pot away with this raise, even with what I suspected was a nothing hand. He knows me to be a conservative player and figures that this raise will make me go away unless I have a 9. Well, let me out play him this time, is what I thought. So I called the $50, intending to scare him into thinking I had the 9 and was trapping. When an ace hit on the turn, giving me a pair of aces, I led out for $70 and he went into the tank and I thought I had him. My conservative style was paying dividends and he was giving me credit, convinced I had the hand.
Until, that is, he said the following: "I can't believe an ace hit" and my stomach lurched. Why would he worry about an ace? He didn't have an overpair to the board, he would have raised preflop with it. Which could only mean...
...that he has the 9 and is putting me, because of my tight game, because of my call of his $50 raise post-flop, on pocket aces and thinks he just got outdrawn by the ace on the turn. All the while I had him on nothing, because of my preflop read, and I was right, but I never varied my thinking to consider that his nothing may have included that 9. That he was playing off my style and using it against me, that I was the one being trapped. My only hope now was that he would consider himself beaten and fold to my $70 bet and $95 behind it, not wanting to toss $165 at a one-outer if he really had convinced himself I had the bullets.
So I wait for his decision, chagrined at my mistake, and eventually he called with a resigned "I have to see what you have." The river brought a blank and I checked, certain I was beaten and knowing not to put any more into the pot, as he would certainly call, and he checked behind, certain he was beaten, content not to risk any more money against what he felt I must be holding.
Only one of us was correct. And sadly, belatedly, it was me.
Here is a key hand to note from one of my cash games (home game, NLHE, 1,2 blinds).
From early position a player raised the $2 BB to $7 and got an early position caller, a mid-position caller and a call from the button. In the BB, I looked down at A,J off and raised it up to $21. Both early position players folded, the mid-position player called and the button folded. Now, I have played with the caller previously and know him to be a very good, smart player. I suspected that his call (both of the $7 and then of the $14) was a speculative one, as he is definitely the type who would have raised the early position raisers with any good holding and absolutely the type who would have come over the top of my reraise with a premium holding. Though out of position, I felt good about my read and all signs told me that I was ahead.
Flop brought out 9,9,x and I continued for $25 into $64. He immediately came over and upped it to $75 and I broke the play down. And here is where I needed to perhaps adjust my thought process a bit and I'll point out why. Having put him on nothing preflop, and based on our past playing history together, I felt he believed he could take the pot away with this raise, even with what I suspected was a nothing hand. He knows me to be a conservative player and figures that this raise will make me go away unless I have a 9. Well, let me out play him this time, is what I thought. So I called the $50, intending to scare him into thinking I had the 9 and was trapping. When an ace hit on the turn, giving me a pair of aces, I led out for $70 and he went into the tank and I thought I had him. My conservative style was paying dividends and he was giving me credit, convinced I had the hand.
Until, that is, he said the following: "I can't believe an ace hit" and my stomach lurched. Why would he worry about an ace? He didn't have an overpair to the board, he would have raised preflop with it. Which could only mean...
...that he has the 9 and is putting me, because of my tight game, because of my call of his $50 raise post-flop, on pocket aces and thinks he just got outdrawn by the ace on the turn. All the while I had him on nothing, because of my preflop read, and I was right, but I never varied my thinking to consider that his nothing may have included that 9. That he was playing off my style and using it against me, that I was the one being trapped. My only hope now was that he would consider himself beaten and fold to my $70 bet and $95 behind it, not wanting to toss $165 at a one-outer if he really had convinced himself I had the bullets.
So I wait for his decision, chagrined at my mistake, and eventually he called with a resigned "I have to see what you have." The river brought a blank and I checked, certain I was beaten and knowing not to put any more into the pot, as he would certainly call, and he checked behind, certain he was beaten, content not to risk any more money against what he felt I must be holding.
Only one of us was correct. And sadly, belatedly, it was me.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Back from the abyss
So it has been awhile since I have posted and I have a few poker related tales to tell.
Inactivity is the bane of my poker game. I don't play often enough and I lose traction on my play, all the little things I remind myself about the style of poker I should play. I am a fitting example of the player who plays the style that fits his personality and often I need to mix things up to avoid the ruts of one style. However, I often realize that I'm mixing it up at the wrong moments and it's often losing some hands or laying down failed plays that remind me the importance of having a structure to your own poker game and that I must establish myself before mixing anything up. Duh.
Lay ground work.
Set up a play or an image.
Follow through with it.
At a key moment, play off that image or style to great benefit.
Simple, right?
But alas, it does not always work. I was recently in W. Palm Beach, FL and decided to make a stop over at the Palm Beach Kennel Club to check out the poker room there. Now, I had scouted the website and because it was not much to speak of, I wasn't expecting too much. Plus, it is the dog track, you know? An exacta on the 2,5 isn't the same when they're chasing a mechanical rabbit. But at the least I figured for some loose play, hopefully by some degenerates, that I could play a relatively tight game into and feed off of and hope for the big hands. After all, I was only heading there for a few hours, not a big session at all.
So my first surprise was finding that the max buy-in for the entire room, regardless of game, was $100. So I bought in for a hundo at a 1-2 table and was, not surprisingly, a short stack. However, there was not a ton in the big stacks so I felt room to make plays would be available.
And here, I went awry, as I tried to get involved with some decent, but not fantastic, holdings right away. And when the flops missed me and I was bet into, it was either put it all in with air or fold. So I folded twice and paid my blinds and waited. And I made another mistake, though not on purpose, but rather through inexperience. Having never been in a room with the buy in limit, I was not aware that I should have reloaded back to my initial $100 after each pot I lost. Instead, I chipped down by about half and when I looked down at A,A and made an all in re-raise and was snap-called by K,K, it meant a double up to my initial stack instead of a full double up of the buy in. And again, it showed me why fishing around with marginal holdings early on was a bad play. Had I been playing more often, the first hour would not have been merely a reminder of little things forgotten and opportunities missed.
One other note about the Kennel Club is that many of the players there are new to the game and like the low buy in stakes but make no-limit their first introduction to the game. So there is plenty of opportunity there, no doubt. Unfortunately, none of it was seized upon by me, as evidenced by the following:
At one point hours later at a new table when I had folded for literally hours and won pots without ever having shown down, a guy two to my right told a new player how loose I was playing even though he had never seen a single card of mine. No one had seen anything I had played since I had sat. I asked him if he really thought I was playing loosely and he nodded. I pointed out that he hadn't seen a single card yet, hoping that he would get the hint that I was only playing winning hands, so I could make a move on his chips at a later point. Well, he didn't get the point or perhaps it came too quickly because only a few hands later I flopped the nut flush draw, an open-ended straight and (as it turns out) one over card. So when I bet into my monster and basically pot-commit myself, he shoved with middle pair and NO DRAW. Of course I called, 18 outs twice for me and none came home. What I should have realized that he wanted to see my cards more than he thought I was playing winning hands and was willing to lose money in order to see. But he got both and that is why, on occasion, poker is a cruel, cruel game.
Inactivity is the bane of my poker game. I don't play often enough and I lose traction on my play, all the little things I remind myself about the style of poker I should play. I am a fitting example of the player who plays the style that fits his personality and often I need to mix things up to avoid the ruts of one style. However, I often realize that I'm mixing it up at the wrong moments and it's often losing some hands or laying down failed plays that remind me the importance of having a structure to your own poker game and that I must establish myself before mixing anything up. Duh.
Lay ground work.
Set up a play or an image.
Follow through with it.
At a key moment, play off that image or style to great benefit.
Simple, right?
But alas, it does not always work. I was recently in W. Palm Beach, FL and decided to make a stop over at the Palm Beach Kennel Club to check out the poker room there. Now, I had scouted the website and because it was not much to speak of, I wasn't expecting too much. Plus, it is the dog track, you know? An exacta on the 2,5 isn't the same when they're chasing a mechanical rabbit. But at the least I figured for some loose play, hopefully by some degenerates, that I could play a relatively tight game into and feed off of and hope for the big hands. After all, I was only heading there for a few hours, not a big session at all.
So my first surprise was finding that the max buy-in for the entire room, regardless of game, was $100. So I bought in for a hundo at a 1-2 table and was, not surprisingly, a short stack. However, there was not a ton in the big stacks so I felt room to make plays would be available.
And here, I went awry, as I tried to get involved with some decent, but not fantastic, holdings right away. And when the flops missed me and I was bet into, it was either put it all in with air or fold. So I folded twice and paid my blinds and waited. And I made another mistake, though not on purpose, but rather through inexperience. Having never been in a room with the buy in limit, I was not aware that I should have reloaded back to my initial $100 after each pot I lost. Instead, I chipped down by about half and when I looked down at A,A and made an all in re-raise and was snap-called by K,K, it meant a double up to my initial stack instead of a full double up of the buy in. And again, it showed me why fishing around with marginal holdings early on was a bad play. Had I been playing more often, the first hour would not have been merely a reminder of little things forgotten and opportunities missed.
One other note about the Kennel Club is that many of the players there are new to the game and like the low buy in stakes but make no-limit their first introduction to the game. So there is plenty of opportunity there, no doubt. Unfortunately, none of it was seized upon by me, as evidenced by the following:
At one point hours later at a new table when I had folded for literally hours and won pots without ever having shown down, a guy two to my right told a new player how loose I was playing even though he had never seen a single card of mine. No one had seen anything I had played since I had sat. I asked him if he really thought I was playing loosely and he nodded. I pointed out that he hadn't seen a single card yet, hoping that he would get the hint that I was only playing winning hands, so I could make a move on his chips at a later point. Well, he didn't get the point or perhaps it came too quickly because only a few hands later I flopped the nut flush draw, an open-ended straight and (as it turns out) one over card. So when I bet into my monster and basically pot-commit myself, he shoved with middle pair and NO DRAW. Of course I called, 18 outs twice for me and none came home. What I should have realized that he wanted to see my cards more than he thought I was playing winning hands and was willing to lose money in order to see. But he got both and that is why, on occasion, poker is a cruel, cruel game.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Harrah's Part 2
So still smarting from my loss of the previous day, I lived up the early part of Friday night of Bill's pre-wedding festivities with a great dinner and drinks, got to hang with some old friends from all over the country (met Gene D and his wife as well) and then hit up Harrah's late night with Fast Eddie, another old friend who has had good success at Harrah's tables in the past. Considering that I showed up wearing a suit, I knew everyone would immediately book me for the tourist that I was, so I made a decision to play up that angle as much as possible. Luckily, there were a couple drunk guys at the table, not surprising considering the time of night and while my chips ($200) were en route to the table I got involved in a hand with the first two cards dealt me, KcQc. I flopped a flush draw, bet at it, got called, hit the flush on the turn (meanwhile my chips had been delivered but I still tried to bet without using them, furthering my image as the table rube) but then slowed down a bit on the river as the board paired (all the while remembering my brutal river beats of the previous day.) Fortunately, my opponent had neither a boat nor the nut flush and I dragged a nice little opening pot to get things started.
Hey, things change from day to day, minute to minute in poker. Maybe this was my night, right? Well, it certainly appeared as if I might go on a nice run a few hands later, when from the button I peek down at the two black aces. The pot had been raised by a short stack to $15 and he had drawn a caller. I popped it up to $45, the blinds folded behind me and the short stack called for his last $23 ($38 total) and the other caller also came along. So we had a main pot of $117 already and a side pot of $14 (the $7 difference between my raise and the short stack's amount. Can you smell that? Oh yeah. It's the sweet smell of the Painkillers. The bullets. In position, in a big pot, ready to inflict damage.
But before they do, a funny thing happened. The flop came 8,9,Q. Rainbow. And then a not-so-funny thing happened. Johnny Poker decided to lead out with $90. Into my aces. $90. Really? Really. And I was insta-ready to reshove, except for a small, nagging voice in my head that told me I had just gotten out-flopped. And it didn't help the villain that he bet out the exact amount of my incorrect hero call of the previous session.
So I decided to assess my options and see what I could find out. I started talking at him. First, I asked him how much he had behind. He had about $125 behind, had me covered by just a few dollars. He counted it out for me, restacked it for himself. I played along, peered in and asked if he was sure of his count. He was.
I'm beat. I know it.
But I have aces on a rainbow board.
I ask if he has Jack, Ten, ask if he flopped the straight. I get nothing in return. Did you flop a set of queens? Again, not much of a reaction.
And across the table, drunk guy number one asks if we can play some poker. Luckily for me, the guy to my left, a punk-rock guy with his girlfriend playing in the seat to his left, tells him to cool it, that it's a big pot. I silently thank him for buying me more time, 'cause at the moment, I'm torn on my decision. Why would he lead out so big if he hit a monster? Bottom set? I tell him he doesn't have kings because we would have gotten it all in preflop. Is he even listening? I've got nothing so far, except my own rambling dialogue on the hand. And finally, I ask the right question, or rather, just say the right thing which was almost just a passing thought I happened to voice.
I've got a big hand, I say.
And he shrugs. He shrugs. He could care less. I think if you had taken a photo of me at that moment, my mouth would be slightly open, my eyes wide and a little glimmer of understanding would be all over my face.
I look at the dealer and announced that I fold. I fold face up. My end of the table winces at the aces.
The short stack turns over Q,Q for top set. Wow, I think.
The villain turns over J, 10 for the nuts. WTF, I think.
Why he bet at me considering that I had been the pre-flop raiser, I will never understand. If he checks at that moment, I would have led out for a good amount, he could have generated himself a side pot with me practically dead to rights and either just smooth called me or raised me after I had pretty much pot-committed myself. Just a terrible play by him and it allowed me to extricate myself from a really bad position with minimal damage.
To make matters worse for him, perhaps in some sort of karmic punishment of his play, the board paired itself on fifth street and the short stack took the main pot down with a river boat.
So needless to say, I was a little wary of table 15 (same table as the previous day's session) as it seemed to have it in for me. About a half hour later, I look down at 8,8 and make a raise to $12, which promptly gets called by two players and popped to $45 (all in) by one of the blinds. And again, something didn't feel right so I trusted my instincts and folded. Both players behind me called and as it turns out everyone was wired, with the all in having the aces. No side pot developed in the face of a painted board so again I was left wondering when my break was going to happen, the hand that would get me going.
While contemplating that, the drunk guys left, a couple guys busted and our table broke up. I, along with an older lady who had just sat, moved over to another table in front of the cage, the same table where Fast Eddie was sitting. And immediately, the old lady begins firing at pots, and firing back straight whiskeys. She's making crazy plays and getting away with them, showing bluffs when they work and luck-boxing into two pair on the turn and river when leading out from behind. And she's talking, a lot. She's railing on people and telling them how awful their play is, all the while misreading hands and earning a big, fat bulls-eye with her mouth and her bloated stack of chips.
So after watching about an hour or so of this and watching some good play and some mediocre play from the rest of the table, I get bored. So I decide to egg on the old lady.
"Philhemina, you getting in this pot?" I lean forward and ask, as the cards slide around the table.
She looks over her half-rim glasses at me, eyes blurred with whiskey and money. "You got such a big hand, you want me in?" she drawls at me, even though the cards are still being dealt. She takes the briefest of glances at her cards and grabs a stack of reds and pounds them past the line. "A hunnert."
Now, I don't know about you, but a hundred dollar bet into an unopened 1-2 pot with such abandon and recklessness deserves to be punished. It's just begging to be taken, itching to be taught a lesson.
I look at the guys at my end of the table as the action is folded to me and mouth the standard, "One time," I say. "One time."
And I actually have something. Nines. Two of them.
I don't even glance at the hundred in there as I double-fist my stack into the center of the table. "Yup. All-in." I bang it up to $238 total.
Three seats to my left grimaces as he folds. "I want to play. That's my favorite hand."
It gets back to Philhemina. She wastes no time, and i mean none, in getting the other $138 out to complete her call, and I about regurgitate all the dinner and drinks from Bill's rehearsal dinner. Please, I think, don't let her have actually snuck into a big hand. She doesn't show as the flop comes out king high, no straight or flush draws. Turn brings a queen and I draw my breath tighter and the river throws out a brick. I flip my nines and wait. She looks at them and checks her hand. No eruption from her but I still hold my breath. She might be reading her own hand wrong for all I know.
Finally she flips up A,8 offsuit and I let out a laugh, partially in relief, partially in disbelief, partially because she still has a stack of chips in front of her that I want.
"Philhemina," I look down at her as I stack up, "that was a great call."
Day three at Harrah's to come.
Hey, things change from day to day, minute to minute in poker. Maybe this was my night, right? Well, it certainly appeared as if I might go on a nice run a few hands later, when from the button I peek down at the two black aces. The pot had been raised by a short stack to $15 and he had drawn a caller. I popped it up to $45, the blinds folded behind me and the short stack called for his last $23 ($38 total) and the other caller also came along. So we had a main pot of $117 already and a side pot of $14 (the $7 difference between my raise and the short stack's amount. Can you smell that? Oh yeah. It's the sweet smell of the Painkillers. The bullets. In position, in a big pot, ready to inflict damage.
But before they do, a funny thing happened. The flop came 8,9,Q. Rainbow. And then a not-so-funny thing happened. Johnny Poker decided to lead out with $90. Into my aces. $90. Really? Really. And I was insta-ready to reshove, except for a small, nagging voice in my head that told me I had just gotten out-flopped. And it didn't help the villain that he bet out the exact amount of my incorrect hero call of the previous session.
So I decided to assess my options and see what I could find out. I started talking at him. First, I asked him how much he had behind. He had about $125 behind, had me covered by just a few dollars. He counted it out for me, restacked it for himself. I played along, peered in and asked if he was sure of his count. He was.
I'm beat. I know it.
But I have aces on a rainbow board.
I ask if he has Jack, Ten, ask if he flopped the straight. I get nothing in return. Did you flop a set of queens? Again, not much of a reaction.
And across the table, drunk guy number one asks if we can play some poker. Luckily for me, the guy to my left, a punk-rock guy with his girlfriend playing in the seat to his left, tells him to cool it, that it's a big pot. I silently thank him for buying me more time, 'cause at the moment, I'm torn on my decision. Why would he lead out so big if he hit a monster? Bottom set? I tell him he doesn't have kings because we would have gotten it all in preflop. Is he even listening? I've got nothing so far, except my own rambling dialogue on the hand. And finally, I ask the right question, or rather, just say the right thing which was almost just a passing thought I happened to voice.
I've got a big hand, I say.
And he shrugs. He shrugs. He could care less. I think if you had taken a photo of me at that moment, my mouth would be slightly open, my eyes wide and a little glimmer of understanding would be all over my face.
I look at the dealer and announced that I fold. I fold face up. My end of the table winces at the aces.
The short stack turns over Q,Q for top set. Wow, I think.
The villain turns over J, 10 for the nuts. WTF, I think.
Why he bet at me considering that I had been the pre-flop raiser, I will never understand. If he checks at that moment, I would have led out for a good amount, he could have generated himself a side pot with me practically dead to rights and either just smooth called me or raised me after I had pretty much pot-committed myself. Just a terrible play by him and it allowed me to extricate myself from a really bad position with minimal damage.
To make matters worse for him, perhaps in some sort of karmic punishment of his play, the board paired itself on fifth street and the short stack took the main pot down with a river boat.
So needless to say, I was a little wary of table 15 (same table as the previous day's session) as it seemed to have it in for me. About a half hour later, I look down at 8,8 and make a raise to $12, which promptly gets called by two players and popped to $45 (all in) by one of the blinds. And again, something didn't feel right so I trusted my instincts and folded. Both players behind me called and as it turns out everyone was wired, with the all in having the aces. No side pot developed in the face of a painted board so again I was left wondering when my break was going to happen, the hand that would get me going.
While contemplating that, the drunk guys left, a couple guys busted and our table broke up. I, along with an older lady who had just sat, moved over to another table in front of the cage, the same table where Fast Eddie was sitting. And immediately, the old lady begins firing at pots, and firing back straight whiskeys. She's making crazy plays and getting away with them, showing bluffs when they work and luck-boxing into two pair on the turn and river when leading out from behind. And she's talking, a lot. She's railing on people and telling them how awful their play is, all the while misreading hands and earning a big, fat bulls-eye with her mouth and her bloated stack of chips.
So after watching about an hour or so of this and watching some good play and some mediocre play from the rest of the table, I get bored. So I decide to egg on the old lady.
"Philhemina, you getting in this pot?" I lean forward and ask, as the cards slide around the table.
She looks over her half-rim glasses at me, eyes blurred with whiskey and money. "You got such a big hand, you want me in?" she drawls at me, even though the cards are still being dealt. She takes the briefest of glances at her cards and grabs a stack of reds and pounds them past the line. "A hunnert."
Now, I don't know about you, but a hundred dollar bet into an unopened 1-2 pot with such abandon and recklessness deserves to be punished. It's just begging to be taken, itching to be taught a lesson.
I look at the guys at my end of the table as the action is folded to me and mouth the standard, "One time," I say. "One time."
And I actually have something. Nines. Two of them.
I don't even glance at the hundred in there as I double-fist my stack into the center of the table. "Yup. All-in." I bang it up to $238 total.
Three seats to my left grimaces as he folds. "I want to play. That's my favorite hand."
It gets back to Philhemina. She wastes no time, and i mean none, in getting the other $138 out to complete her call, and I about regurgitate all the dinner and drinks from Bill's rehearsal dinner. Please, I think, don't let her have actually snuck into a big hand. She doesn't show as the flop comes out king high, no straight or flush draws. Turn brings a queen and I draw my breath tighter and the river throws out a brick. I flip my nines and wait. She looks at them and checks her hand. No eruption from her but I still hold my breath. She might be reading her own hand wrong for all I know.
Finally she flips up A,8 offsuit and I let out a laugh, partially in relief, partially in disbelief, partially because she still has a stack of chips in front of her that I want.
"Philhemina," I look down at her as I stack up, "that was a great call."
Day three at Harrah's to come.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
New Orleans poker (and Wild Bill's wedding)
So I was down in New Orleans for Wild Bill's wedding and managed to sneak in 3 sessions at Harrahs while there, so figured I would give a long-overdue update and detail some of the action, which as many locals probably already know, can be pretty head-scratching.
The first session didn't go so well. Bill and I sat down late afternoon for $200 at a just-opened 1-2 NL table and I promptly folded about two rounds of garbage trying to get a feel, having not played in awhile.
The key sequence was consecutive hands immediately after that. I looked down at A,K suited, raised to $15 and got a caller. Flop came K, 10, x rainbow and I led for $20, getting the taker and feeling good about where I was. Turn brought another brick and I put out $30 and again the guy two to my left came along with a call. River came with a Q and here I pulled up the brakes. Was this guy playing K,Q? Or even worse, A,Q? I checked and he came out for $90. Now, writing this makes it seem obvious to me that I was beat, but at the time, at the table, when I knew for all the world that I had been ahead until that point, made me want to call down that $90. So I made the call and he showed neither K,Q nor A,Q but Q,9 for the gutterball and not even the nuts gutterball, to add insult to financial injury.
So, taking all this in, I hope to be able to get back in a hand with this guy, and soon. Well, careful what you wish for, because the very next hand I look down at K,K. I raise once again to $15 and this time get 3 callers. Well, wouldn't you know it, the flop again brings a K high rainbow and I check my set. Guy to my left bets at it, gets both callers along and I put my last $30 or so on top, getting 2 of them along for the ride and feeling nice and toasty.
Which, as anyone who plays regularly knows, is a bad idea. Running cards fire the guy to my left another straight into my face and I'm down a buy in. He admits he thought I was tilting. No consolation to me.
Bought back in and did some grinding for a few hours until an ill-timed bluff forfeited my meager comeback and left me down for the session.
Day two to come...
The first session didn't go so well. Bill and I sat down late afternoon for $200 at a just-opened 1-2 NL table and I promptly folded about two rounds of garbage trying to get a feel, having not played in awhile.
The key sequence was consecutive hands immediately after that. I looked down at A,K suited, raised to $15 and got a caller. Flop came K, 10, x rainbow and I led for $20, getting the taker and feeling good about where I was. Turn brought another brick and I put out $30 and again the guy two to my left came along with a call. River came with a Q and here I pulled up the brakes. Was this guy playing K,Q? Or even worse, A,Q? I checked and he came out for $90. Now, writing this makes it seem obvious to me that I was beat, but at the time, at the table, when I knew for all the world that I had been ahead until that point, made me want to call down that $90. So I made the call and he showed neither K,Q nor A,Q but Q,9 for the gutterball and not even the nuts gutterball, to add insult to financial injury.
So, taking all this in, I hope to be able to get back in a hand with this guy, and soon. Well, careful what you wish for, because the very next hand I look down at K,K. I raise once again to $15 and this time get 3 callers. Well, wouldn't you know it, the flop again brings a K high rainbow and I check my set. Guy to my left bets at it, gets both callers along and I put my last $30 or so on top, getting 2 of them along for the ride and feeling nice and toasty.
Which, as anyone who plays regularly knows, is a bad idea. Running cards fire the guy to my left another straight into my face and I'm down a buy in. He admits he thought I was tilting. No consolation to me.
Bought back in and did some grinding for a few hours until an ill-timed bluff forfeited my meager comeback and left me down for the session.
Day two to come...
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