So I'm off for the next few days to a land where the dealers are smart, the waiting lists are short and the games are plentiful. Admittedly the games are not quite as soft as my regular game, but I want to play some short sessions - to be able to use the next few days I have off to play for a few hours and then take a long lunch and come back to the tables and not have to wait for four hours to get a seat.
I'll post on returning.
25 December 2007
Perfect Storm
Of Course I would start a poker blog to track my results (in life as well as poker) at the exact time a perfect storm of circumstances would conspire to keep me out of the cardroom. Well the holiday season has finally slowed down my real job and as a result I played some sessions - just on the weekends. One two sundays ago and then both days this past weekend.
The first Sunday I felt rusty and it took me what seemed like less than an hour (maybe it was two) to burn through four buy-ins (total of $1,400). I made what felt like decent decisions at the time but I wasn't being honest with myself about their quality - lots of close decisions where I probably could have gotten away with checking down but decided to push and try and buy some fold equity. In my regular game that can be just silly and so I got callers when I really didn't want them (and when they should not have been calling - but I know these guys and should know better) and my outs never came.
This past weekend was better - focused on putting people in positions to make errors which is always a profitable strategy in my game. Made back the lost buy-ins on Saturday and then made some profit on Sunday. I was lucky, but some random examples of how soft the game can be stick out.
There was the nice younger guy who looked like a football player - he was huge. He was seated two to my right on Saturday and had only been at the table for a few hands when the following came up. Under the gun raised to $40 (BB is $5) and it was folded around to Youngster. He re-raises to $100 and it is folded around to original raiser who min re-raises to $160. At this stage everyone at the table knows the original raiser has Aces and so I expected Youngster to call and see what happens. Was I ever wrong. Youngster makes it $300 to go and Original Raiser responds by going all-in for about $600. Youngster had about $550 in front of him and calls. I figured it was Aces v Aces and we would get to see if any one caught a four flush board, but to my surprise Youngster turns over jacks. JACKS!! He sees the Aces of the Original Raiser, gets no help from the board and shrugs his shoulders and asks no one in particular "what could I do?"
So about one orbit later I'm on the button with AK diamonds. Youngster has about $500 in front of him (having re-bought) and the cut-off (who has been playing relatively tight) has about $200. I have them both covered. Youngster raises two limpers to $40. Cut off thinks for a few seconds and pushes his stack. I'm happy to play a coinflip with the cut off given the amount already in the pot, but I have no idea what Youngster has or what he will do. If he has a pair or something like AQ I could buy some insurance against the cut off by getting Youngster to call an over bet. I raise to $500 and Youngster calls. I flip over my hand (I don't like the grandstanding on all-ins preflop) and Youngster says "we have the same" and flips over AK off. Cut off shows 88. I comment that we don't actually have the same as mine are suited. The dealer promptly pulls out a king high flop (unlucky for cut-off) with one diamond. Youngster says "good hand" to which I try and respond in my wisest tone - "two more cards to come". Dealer kindly turns and rivers diamonds and I scoop the pot.
More observations later.
The first Sunday I felt rusty and it took me what seemed like less than an hour (maybe it was two) to burn through four buy-ins (total of $1,400). I made what felt like decent decisions at the time but I wasn't being honest with myself about their quality - lots of close decisions where I probably could have gotten away with checking down but decided to push and try and buy some fold equity. In my regular game that can be just silly and so I got callers when I really didn't want them (and when they should not have been calling - but I know these guys and should know better) and my outs never came.
This past weekend was better - focused on putting people in positions to make errors which is always a profitable strategy in my game. Made back the lost buy-ins on Saturday and then made some profit on Sunday. I was lucky, but some random examples of how soft the game can be stick out.
There was the nice younger guy who looked like a football player - he was huge. He was seated two to my right on Saturday and had only been at the table for a few hands when the following came up. Under the gun raised to $40 (BB is $5) and it was folded around to Youngster. He re-raises to $100 and it is folded around to original raiser who min re-raises to $160. At this stage everyone at the table knows the original raiser has Aces and so I expected Youngster to call and see what happens. Was I ever wrong. Youngster makes it $300 to go and Original Raiser responds by going all-in for about $600. Youngster had about $550 in front of him and calls. I figured it was Aces v Aces and we would get to see if any one caught a four flush board, but to my surprise Youngster turns over jacks. JACKS!! He sees the Aces of the Original Raiser, gets no help from the board and shrugs his shoulders and asks no one in particular "what could I do?"
So about one orbit later I'm on the button with AK diamonds. Youngster has about $500 in front of him (having re-bought) and the cut-off (who has been playing relatively tight) has about $200. I have them both covered. Youngster raises two limpers to $40. Cut off thinks for a few seconds and pushes his stack. I'm happy to play a coinflip with the cut off given the amount already in the pot, but I have no idea what Youngster has or what he will do. If he has a pair or something like AQ I could buy some insurance against the cut off by getting Youngster to call an over bet. I raise to $500 and Youngster calls. I flip over my hand (I don't like the grandstanding on all-ins preflop) and Youngster says "we have the same" and flips over AK off. Cut off shows 88. I comment that we don't actually have the same as mine are suited. The dealer promptly pulls out a king high flop (unlucky for cut-off) with one diamond. Youngster says "good hand" to which I try and respond in my wisest tone - "two more cards to come". Dealer kindly turns and rivers diamonds and I scoop the pot.
More observations later.
06 December 2007
My First Hand Post: "What could I do?"
So, here goes with my first hand discussion.
If you bothered to read the last, very long, post describing my game, you know there is often significant (at least to me) money on the table in my game. And where does this money come from you ask? Who would leave this money? Well, lots of people, but this hand involves one of my favourite types – the young interloper. Often they are internet savy – understand the game but not quite enough to be playing this high. Often they haven’t been knocked around enough to realise that they need to take responsibility for their actions and errors – which leads to one of my favourite expressions at the table – “what could I do?”
I’m in the cut off with AKo (and about $1,000) and a younger player two to my right ($800 or so) raises three or four limpers. Action is to me and I reach for my chips only to hear him complain “You’re always raising me”. Well, maybe I am. Anyway, I make it $90 to go and it’s folded around to him and he calls. Flop comes ragged but Ace High. He checks, I bet the pot and he calls. Turn is another brick – the board is extremely dry – and he checks again. I bet two thirds of the pot. Again. He calls. Again. Now if this was one of the good players in this game, I would have been slightly concerned by this check, flat call action but here I was pretty sure I was up against a weaker ace and although I was worried he might have caught two pair I was willing to take the chance. So the river bricks again, he checks again and I bet again. About half the pot. He tanks for a while and then, in frustration, says “I don’t know if you are bluffing” and calls. I show my AK and drag a very nice pot when he mucks A4o face up. “What could I do?” he asks. In unison three guys at that end of the table say “FOLD, Stupid”.
So he tops his stack back up to $500, wins a small pot and on the very next orbit I’m in on the cutoff with 67spades. Same youngster, who apparently has a low learning curve when it comes to the value of position in no limit hold’em, raises two limpers. I smile and again make it $90 to go, he again complains about me raising him, and, again, he is the only caller. Flop comes As 8h 5s. I really couldn’t ask for better – I stop counting the outs when I get to 10 and in addition I’m feeling pretty good about my flush outs since the ace is on the board.
Well apparently he had learned something (but not the correct thing) as he now leads out for the pot, which means I have to call $200 into a $400 pot and he has about $400 left behind. My math (which was never a strong suit – I tend to be flexible with it when I’m looking to justify an action) says I’m a slight favourite and this, combined with my desire to watch his head explode, makes my decision easy and quick: “I’m all in” I announce.
He clearly wasn’t expecting this, and now he’s faced with a toughie (by this stage its obvious he’s got a stronger Ace than last time but that’s all). He hems and haws and finally gives me the big stare. After about 30 seconds of this he announces call and asks what I have – I say, honestly, “nothing”. He jumps up, announces “I knew it – I caught you” and tables A10 of diamonds. I flip over my cards, the dealer turns a spade and I try not to giggle while stacking his chips. “What could I do?” he asks. In unison the table says…
If you bothered to read the last, very long, post describing my game, you know there is often significant (at least to me) money on the table in my game. And where does this money come from you ask? Who would leave this money? Well, lots of people, but this hand involves one of my favourite types – the young interloper. Often they are internet savy – understand the game but not quite enough to be playing this high. Often they haven’t been knocked around enough to realise that they need to take responsibility for their actions and errors – which leads to one of my favourite expressions at the table – “what could I do?”
I’m in the cut off with AKo (and about $1,000) and a younger player two to my right ($800 or so) raises three or four limpers. Action is to me and I reach for my chips only to hear him complain “You’re always raising me”. Well, maybe I am. Anyway, I make it $90 to go and it’s folded around to him and he calls. Flop comes ragged but Ace High. He checks, I bet the pot and he calls. Turn is another brick – the board is extremely dry – and he checks again. I bet two thirds of the pot. Again. He calls. Again. Now if this was one of the good players in this game, I would have been slightly concerned by this check, flat call action but here I was pretty sure I was up against a weaker ace and although I was worried he might have caught two pair I was willing to take the chance. So the river bricks again, he checks again and I bet again. About half the pot. He tanks for a while and then, in frustration, says “I don’t know if you are bluffing” and calls. I show my AK and drag a very nice pot when he mucks A4o face up. “What could I do?” he asks. In unison three guys at that end of the table say “FOLD, Stupid”.
So he tops his stack back up to $500, wins a small pot and on the very next orbit I’m in on the cutoff with 67spades. Same youngster, who apparently has a low learning curve when it comes to the value of position in no limit hold’em, raises two limpers. I smile and again make it $90 to go, he again complains about me raising him, and, again, he is the only caller. Flop comes As 8h 5s. I really couldn’t ask for better – I stop counting the outs when I get to 10 and in addition I’m feeling pretty good about my flush outs since the ace is on the board.
Well apparently he had learned something (but not the correct thing) as he now leads out for the pot, which means I have to call $200 into a $400 pot and he has about $400 left behind. My math (which was never a strong suit – I tend to be flexible with it when I’m looking to justify an action) says I’m a slight favourite and this, combined with my desire to watch his head explode, makes my decision easy and quick: “I’m all in” I announce.
He clearly wasn’t expecting this, and now he’s faced with a toughie (by this stage its obvious he’s got a stronger Ace than last time but that’s all). He hems and haws and finally gives me the big stare. After about 30 seconds of this he announces call and asks what I have – I say, honestly, “nothing”. He jumps up, announces “I knew it – I caught you” and tables A10 of diamonds. I flip over my cards, the dealer turns a spade and I try not to giggle while stacking his chips. “What could I do?” he asks. In unison the table says…
My Regular Game
This is supposed to be a poker blog. Not that this is an original idea – there appear to be thousands of poker players out there who appear to not be satisfied with the opportunity to play a great game (or perhaps I should say participate in a great game, as “play a great game” suggests that is how they play…). These anonymous thousands, myself included, feel compelled to share. I don’t know what drives everyone else, but for me it is really the basic human need to share. I want to talk about my game. I want to compare notes. Most of all I want to brag when, through no fault of my own, I cash out for $4,000.
But I play in a small game. And playing in a small game isn’t conducive to sharing insight about play or bragging about results. So here I am, among the thousands.
Let me tell you some things about my regular game. It is public, live (spread in a cardroom/casino) no-limit hold’em. My game is one of the only legal cash games around – so the place has a monopoly and it shows in terms of rake, drink prices and all the other little ways a monopoly provider can screw a customer for the basic reason that they can. Don’t like it? Feel free to express your displeasure if you are anxious for a lesson in monopoly economics. The lesson goes something like: “Excuse me Mr Pit Boss, sir, but we are paying by the hour and the dealer has so far only managed to deal four hands this half-hour.” “Thank you for bringing that to my attention Mr Player. You’re welcome to go play somewhere else”.
The monopoly attitude also shows in demand. This is not a cardroom where an excited player can just show up and sit down for a game on the way home from work happy in the knowledge that she will be able to get a few orbits in before the hubby starts to phone asking where she is. No, playing here is a commitment. A person has to show up early, wait long and then once seated be sure not to leave their seat for more than 10 minutes lest they get picked up. And sometime I will comment on skill and morale of the dealers, but not tonight.
What else about my regular game? The buy in is not huge ($500 or so with a $5 bb). The game is also full of regulars – this is what I mean about the game being small. I play most weekends. And the single most important thing about this game is that, to my basic poker eye, it is quite possibly the softest game since Doyle showed up in Houston to a game full of oilmen.
How soft? There is a guy who plays regularly. Daily. He hums when he has a good starting hand. I swear to God, this guy picks up aces and the frigging theme from the Fiddler on the Roof starts to come out. Just like that episode in MASH (yes, dating myself) where Charles is fleecing everyone until the clue in that his whistling gets louder when he’s bluffing. Then there is the guy who regularly wanders over from playing Baccarat with $3,000 he is anxious to play with. Just like at the Baccarat table he simply puts it in the middle and waits for the dealer to tell him if he’s won. There is the usual group of young internet studs who have not yet got their heads around reverse implied odds and the simple fact that one pair is likely not that great a hand even if you do have a decent kicker. I could go on. Of course there are also some quality players in this game – world class in fact. But so long as you know who they are, well you just try and stay out their way unless you have position or cards – preferably both.
What else? The game often plays much bigger than the buy in suggests. No one, and I mean no one, in this game folds pre-flop to a raise smaller than 6 BBs and if you are serious about thinning the field then you need to be thinking about a pre-flop pop to at least 10BB and often more. After a few short hours there is usually $10 – 15k on the table.
So that is the background. I’m now going to post my first hand discussion, but I’m going to make it a separate post.
Don’t go away.
But I play in a small game. And playing in a small game isn’t conducive to sharing insight about play or bragging about results. So here I am, among the thousands.
Let me tell you some things about my regular game. It is public, live (spread in a cardroom/casino) no-limit hold’em. My game is one of the only legal cash games around – so the place has a monopoly and it shows in terms of rake, drink prices and all the other little ways a monopoly provider can screw a customer for the basic reason that they can. Don’t like it? Feel free to express your displeasure if you are anxious for a lesson in monopoly economics. The lesson goes something like: “Excuse me Mr Pit Boss, sir, but we are paying by the hour and the dealer has so far only managed to deal four hands this half-hour.” “Thank you for bringing that to my attention Mr Player. You’re welcome to go play somewhere else”.
The monopoly attitude also shows in demand. This is not a cardroom where an excited player can just show up and sit down for a game on the way home from work happy in the knowledge that she will be able to get a few orbits in before the hubby starts to phone asking where she is. No, playing here is a commitment. A person has to show up early, wait long and then once seated be sure not to leave their seat for more than 10 minutes lest they get picked up. And sometime I will comment on skill and morale of the dealers, but not tonight.
What else about my regular game? The buy in is not huge ($500 or so with a $5 bb). The game is also full of regulars – this is what I mean about the game being small. I play most weekends. And the single most important thing about this game is that, to my basic poker eye, it is quite possibly the softest game since Doyle showed up in Houston to a game full of oilmen.
How soft? There is a guy who plays regularly. Daily. He hums when he has a good starting hand. I swear to God, this guy picks up aces and the frigging theme from the Fiddler on the Roof starts to come out. Just like that episode in MASH (yes, dating myself) where Charles is fleecing everyone until the clue in that his whistling gets louder when he’s bluffing. Then there is the guy who regularly wanders over from playing Baccarat with $3,000 he is anxious to play with. Just like at the Baccarat table he simply puts it in the middle and waits for the dealer to tell him if he’s won. There is the usual group of young internet studs who have not yet got their heads around reverse implied odds and the simple fact that one pair is likely not that great a hand even if you do have a decent kicker. I could go on. Of course there are also some quality players in this game – world class in fact. But so long as you know who they are, well you just try and stay out their way unless you have position or cards – preferably both.
What else? The game often plays much bigger than the buy in suggests. No one, and I mean no one, in this game folds pre-flop to a raise smaller than 6 BBs and if you are serious about thinning the field then you need to be thinking about a pre-flop pop to at least 10BB and often more. After a few short hours there is usually $10 – 15k on the table.
So that is the background. I’m now going to post my first hand discussion, but I’m going to make it a separate post.
Don’t go away.
05 December 2007
More Thoughts on titles
The choice of a blog title is a big deal in this age of global information and insight as to the choice potentially discloses much about the author. Fred’s Blog, for example (and to no one’s real great surprise) describes the life of Fred (who seems to be into cats). Tales of an Emergency Room Nurse is equally descriptive, but at least has the benefit of suggesting a topic that might make for interesting reading (to be fair to Fred, I actually enjoyed his discussion of Oracle error messages).
Given the importance of a title, you might ask yourself what the deal is with the “suited” part of Stochastically Suited? Again, there is the obvious answer – that the author (in this case me) feels they are suited to discussions stochastic. But it is more the use of the word suited as a justification around the poker table that attracted me. For many players the concept of suited cards is used as some kind of expression to suggest they have carte blanche to play stupidly because their starting cards where the same color. I’ve lost track of the times a horrendous play was explained with “What could I do? they were suited”.
This search for a an excuse to avoid taking responsibility for what, on any objective measure is just plain stupidity, is at the heart of what makes poker so potentially profitable and the world such a silly place.
I remember the sign off I saw on one of the popular poker forums sometime back (it’s probably still being used and I do not mean to suggest it is original to me, just that I can’t be bothered to look it up and credit the author) “Yeah, penguins are suited too – it doesn’t mean they aren’t great shark food”.
Given the importance of a title, you might ask yourself what the deal is with the “suited” part of Stochastically Suited? Again, there is the obvious answer – that the author (in this case me) feels they are suited to discussions stochastic. But it is more the use of the word suited as a justification around the poker table that attracted me. For many players the concept of suited cards is used as some kind of expression to suggest they have carte blanche to play stupidly because their starting cards where the same color. I’ve lost track of the times a horrendous play was explained with “What could I do? they were suited”.
This search for a an excuse to avoid taking responsibility for what, on any objective measure is just plain stupidity, is at the heart of what makes poker so potentially profitable and the world such a silly place.
I remember the sign off I saw on one of the popular poker forums sometime back (it’s probably still being used and I do not mean to suggest it is original to me, just that I can’t be bothered to look it up and credit the author) “Yeah, penguins are suited too – it doesn’t mean they aren’t great shark food”.
04 December 2007
Considerations of Titles
Why Stochastically Suited?
It sounded like a clever name for a blog. But I worry about clever. I think this worry comes from always thinking of the scene from Fight Club when describing or hearing something described as “clever”. It’s the scene where Edward Norton “meets” Brad Pitt in the airplane and describes him as his most interesting single-serving friend. Ed tries to explain and Brad says “No, I get it. It’s very clever. How’s that working out for you, being clever?”
So some other justification beyond clever is needed. The fount of all knowledge, Wikipedia describes the issue as follows:
Of course this applies with even more accuracy to poker. A poker player knows well the experience of doing exactly the correct thing and watching all of his chips being stacked in front of someone else. In fact, often times the correct decision will see the chips being stacked in front of someone else nine out of ten times. This doesn’t make the decision wrong, just difficult to embrace.
Most decisions, whether in poker or in life, are characterized by conjecture and randomness. So stochastic fits.
It sounded like a clever name for a blog. But I worry about clever. I think this worry comes from always thinking of the scene from Fight Club when describing or hearing something described as “clever”. It’s the scene where Edward Norton “meets” Brad Pitt in the airplane and describes him as his most interesting single-serving friend. Ed tries to explain and Brad says “No, I get it. It’s very clever. How’s that working out for you, being clever?”
So some other justification beyond clever is needed. The fount of all knowledge, Wikipedia describes the issue as follows:
So a stochastic process embraces the possibility of performing a task perfectly and still failing. Now we’re getting somewhere. Because what is life but a never-ending series of opportunities to work hard doing the right thing perfectly only for some unforeseen or unlikely outcome to complete screw the whole damn thing?Stochastic, from the Greek "stochos" or "aim, guess", means of, relating to, or characterized by conjecture and randomness.
A stochastic process is one whose behavior is non-deterministic in that a state does not fully determine its next state. Classical examples of this are medicine and rhetoric. While a doctor can perfectly perform his or her craft, a patient may nevertheless still succumb to illness. This makes medicine a stochastic process. (See the link here)
Of course this applies with even more accuracy to poker. A poker player knows well the experience of doing exactly the correct thing and watching all of his chips being stacked in front of someone else. In fact, often times the correct decision will see the chips being stacked in front of someone else nine out of ten times. This doesn’t make the decision wrong, just difficult to embrace.
Most decisions, whether in poker or in life, are characterized by conjecture and randomness. So stochastic fits.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
