Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Poker is The Great Escape

I am playing poker with renewed interest. Still playing at Harrahs when I can, and they occasionally have a $5-10 NLHE game now on the weekends.

I've found a weekly home game and its pretty good. More on this some other time.

I'm in a monthly tournament which is a satellite tournament for the the WSOP, and also pays cash like a regular tourney. And there is a fairly juicy cash game for the early bustouts. The best thing is that the tournament is essentially in my back yard -- its at the subdivision clubhouse which is about 50 yards from my property. The location alone is incredibly fortunate. How often do you get to walk to a poker tournament with 50 players?

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All of my blog links except Pauly have effectively been abandoned. Sad. They are deleted.

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I have never seen anyone hit with the deck like Darvin Moon. Holy shit.

Friday, August 14, 2009

The Public Face

Translation of everything Michael Vick has said in public:

“Sorry? Oh, hell yeah I tell you I sorry! I say whatever you want, I be as remorseful as a muthafucka, as long as you show me da moneyz! Then after I get enough ‘fuck you’ money back in da bank, watch how I tell da man to suck it, beeyoch.”

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Ocean's 11

Last week, Thursday night to be exact, I played my first session in a California card room. We spent a week near San Diego on vacation, and the Ocean's 11 casino was 6 miles from where we stayed. I snuck away after a day-long series of exhausting activities with the kids, and put in a 4-5 hour poker session.

I played in the $5/5 game, with a $500-1500 buy-in. I sat with $1000. The game was populated by a mix of grinding regulars who possess no other discernable life-skills, a few machismo 20-something players, and a sprinkling of degenerate gamblers. The action was fueled by the punks and the gamblers, as you would expect, and it was easy to peg the other players within 4-5 orbits.

One 50-ish guy played the part of the gentlemanly drunkard poker expert. He was pounding red wine and habitually over-raising 6 of every 10 pots. He had the appearance of an accountant, but disclosed he lived in Del Mar. I could only assume that he essentially lived at the racetrack.

At one point, he slammed his wine long before the waitress returned, and consequenly tried to buy two glasses at once. When the waitress demurred ("I can only bring one glass to a customer at a time") I chimed in: "I'll have a glass of whatever he's drinking." When she brought our drinks, I donated mine to him. It was accepted with great thankfulness.

Does that make me an evil player? Soon thereafter, I made a critical mistake in a pot against him and moved to the main game down $500. Sigh.

I reloaded to $1000. I gained the appearance of a super-tight nit, mainly because I was getting absolute shit for cards. I started bluffing in opportune spots because they were giving me credit for big hands whenever I played. I limped UTG with junk, and after a $35 raise by Red Wine and a call by Surly Asian Kid, I popped it to $150. They fled in fear, acting like it was obvious what I held. Hehe.

The evening culminated in a pot involving Red Wine, an ugly woman who was bitching about how little Red Wine was tipping after he won small pot after small pot, and myself. I flopped the nuts with 56o on a 4-7-8 rainbow board. I checked in the BB, Ugly Woman led out, Red Wine raised, I re-raised, and Ugly Woman pushed for $1200!

Red Wine folded after some theatrics, and I called, assuming that a paired board would end my night with sadness. I showed and the table gasped, mainly because they were surprised to see that I played low unsuited cards in a pot raised pre-flop. The 4 paired on the turn, and I braced for the worst. The river was a J, and Ugly announced to the dealer, "You didn't help me." She mucked and grumbled out the door.

I assume she had either AA or 78. I'll never know.

I ended the night up over $1000, and decided that I like California card rooms.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Avoiding the Hit

My daughter got whacked by a pitch a few weeks back. She plays fast-pitch softball, and this pitcher was particularly fast for the 9-10 year-old league. The count was full and the pitch came in high and tight. Amelia managed to turn her back a bit, but not get out of the way. The thwack of the ball hitting the meat of her back made the crowd gasp. After about a minute of quiet tears at the plate, tended by 2 coaches, she trotted down to first base and the game continued.

The hit left a fist-sized welt, with seam marks where the bruise formed.

A few days later, when we are playing catch and warming up for her pitching practice, I noticed that she is catching like she’s afraid of the ball. She’s doing that thing where she puts the glove where the ball is coming, but she sort of moves her body out of the way so that if the glove were not there, the ball would sail past and not hit her.

I knew that she was unconsciously trying to avoid being hit. It’s a perfectly reasonable response after being hit by a pitch, but I don’t want her to play afraid. So, I trieded this approach:

“Why are you moving away like that? Are you afraid it will hit you?” I asked.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Do you trust yourself?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Do you trust yourself? To you trust yourself to catch the ball?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good. Then you don’t need to move out of the way. You control whether you get hit by the ball. Trust yourself to put the glove in the right place, like you always do. Your glove will protect you from getting hit.”

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In recent cash-game sessions, I find that I am not trusting myself. I am not acting according to what my instincts tell me.

A typical example is where I am heads-up, the player had raised pre-flop, and is now leading out on the flop. My instincts tell me that this is a standard continuation bet and he did not connect with the flop, and he would fold to a healthy raise. But I also did not connect on the flop, and so I probably don’t have the best hand.

My instincts say “raise.” The logical part of my brain says, “Save your chips. You will find better opportunities later.” So then I fold. Or even worse, maybe I just call. The poker equivalent of sticking my glove out where the ball is coming, but moving my body out of the way to avoid getting hit and injured.

Trust yourself. Trust your reads. Act on your instincts. If this leads to a bad result, then pay more attention next time and follow your instincts. Your opponent will almost always give you enough information to make the correct decision.

Saturday, April 04, 2009

Bball Brag

I rock the basketball bracket. My round-by-round record:

Round 1 - 28-4
Round 2 - 14-2
Round 3 - 7-1
Round 4 - 2-2
Round 5 - 2-0
Final - UNC over Michigan State

The last time I won a pool outright was 1988 (in college I somehow picked Kansas to win it all in 1988 and nailed it). Of course this is the first time in over 2 decades that I DID NOT ENTER A POOL -- I was on vacation with family during Spring break. Figures.

Friday, March 06, 2009

The Sacrament of Confession

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. Its been over two months since my last post and these are my sins:

I have sucked at live poker. Really bad.

I have broke even at on-line poker. (But see Sharkscope graph for "Darvcus" on PokerStars. There is a pattern.)

I have not hosted any live games in my new basement, although the poker table got a workout with family in town over the Winter holidays. Endless drinks from the bar make for a lively game.

I have seemingly lost my ablity to read players at live poker. I have lost my feel for the game.

I have cursed at all the new on-line players invading the live poker scene, and their snarky appearances on TV. Why should I hate their good fortune? I guess its inevitable, right?

END CONFESSION

I am thankful to have a job and things are going well with my practice. My children do not feel the effects of the economic downswing and I strive to maintain this status. I am bringing in some new business and I continue to stay relatively busy. I am positioning myself to benefit when the economy picks back up.

I laugh at all the young guns invading the TV poker scene -- they have no life experience. I go to work day in and day out, and I sometimes question the energy that I must expend to stay on top of it all. But then I look back on what I have learned and experienced, and the example that I set for my children. And I smile and continue forward.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Sick stack

After the Alamo Bowl which Missou won last night, I logged on to FullTilt to play a few SNGs. I opened the "Hanson Hangout" 6-max PLO table to witness what may be the best run in the history of on-line poker to date.

When I opened the table, Ziigmund had around $800,000 on the table, and everyone else was somewhere around $30K to $50K. Then I watched him run it up this --












Someone in the chat said he reloaded several times to $250K total, so his win at this point is around $1.3 million. I had two thoughts as I watched this:

My $30 SNGs seem to incredibly insignificant.

This gives me hope.

I've always subscribed to the view that if someone else can do it, then I can do it, too. But would I really have the balls to plunk down $250K at one table to run it up like this? Maybe, if I had this type of bankroll. But i dunno.