I read some more

Ok. I'm avoiding work again. This is going to become an issue soon but that is for another day. Today I want to let you all know that I just spent a fair bit of time catching up on Robert's recap of his participation in event 51 at the WSOP.

Some would be upset to come across such a well written piece so late - like missing the opening night for Transformers 3. Me, I'm glad I came to it late because, quite frankly, if I had come in at part two, I would likely have flown across the ocean, hired a PI to find him and then beat the remaining bits of the story out of Robert because I would have had to know.

I'm pretty sure that means it is well written. Or it could just mean that 14 hours on a plane followed by senseless criminal violence sounds better than another day in my job right now.

Bad Beats

So I stumbled across Cardgrrl's book of bad beats which, at this stage, appears to just involve her and the Grump exchanging stories. I confess that reading it reminds me of the Monty Python skit "Four Yorkshiremen" - you know the one - (in case you don't) and I want to respond to a tale of a flush catching up with a flopped set in a loud exclamation of "Luxury!".

See below for recent posts which are pretty bad. Although I confess that I'm not sure if a boxed card is a bad beat or a cooler or what the appropriate term is. I do know that flopping top set and getting called twice by six high only to lose to runner-runner straight is pretty bad. And I have lost way more than should be normal playing live when, in a set over set situation, bottom set hits its one-outer to make four of a kind. (Although, in the interest of full disclosure I have also put this particular beat on a friend of mine from my local room on one particular occasion).

But to qualify for a true bad beat it has to involve horrendous play, I think, and set over set just happens. Which brings me to my entry in this particular competition:

Background - my local cash game. $200 - $500 buy in NL Hold'em with $5/$5 blinds. Full ring. I'm in BB with $1,200. There are lots of limpers (six?) and I check with an off suit Ad10c. Flop comes 10h 10d 7s. SB checks and I lead for the pot (my game involves extracting value with made hands - no need to be tricky here as any number of hands call) two callers, including the button. Turn is the 7d. I figure at this stage the best I can hope for is a chop, but anyone with one seven is going to call me down so let's find out. I bet 2/3rds of the pot. One fold and button min raises me. Ok, I'm behind to 77, tied with the other 10 and miles in front of one 7 so let's find out - I push. He snap calls and when the 8 of diamonds comes on the river tables the 6d9d for a runner, runner straight flush.

So, I offer this as my personal bad beat as it involved two of the worst calls ever. He called the flop with a pair on the board larger than his hand and holding only a gutshot straight draw. I actually don't mind the min raise on the turn but then he calls off his entire stack with a turned non-nut flush draw while facing a double paired board. Anyway - Nice hand sir, well played.

Another month...

Well I have made it almost a month without playing live poker. If I make it to next week this will be a record - and it is entirely likely I will since I am broke and don't get paid until next week.

While I haven't been playing live I have been forced to come to terms with that unavoidable question - What do people do with their spare time while not playing? Remove three to four eight hour sessions from my week and suddenly I'm sitting in my new apartment staring at the walls and realising how desperately they need to be painted. I begin to contemplate regular exercise. Even my career takes an uptick since I can focus. Talk about boring.

Speaking of career, I have recently been approached about an opportunity that has forced me to do some thinking about it. This would involve a pretty sharp change of focus and a relocation to somewhere in SE Asia (probably Kuala Lumpur, maybe Singapore, less likely Jakarta). Naturally, the first thing I did was check the flight schedules from each of these places to Macau (looks ok) and start to ask around if the new casino in Singapore will offer poker (unlikely as it is a Las Vegas Sands property and they don't spread poker in the Venetian or the Sands in Macau so unlikely they will in Singapore - generally the Asian casinos just spread 500 baccarat tables). Btw, if anyone knows the answer to the Singapore poker question please let me know.

Of course the career thing has me in the recognition of existing rut mode - this is why I hate potential life shifts. Even if they don't materialise they leave you aware of why it would have been good. Anyway, this is what comes from an extra 30 hours a week.

Not Playing again

Well that didn't last too long. Played over the weekend and managed to avoid finishing the weekend hung-over, but I think that was merely from anger burning up the alcohol at a faster than normal rate.

How do you know you are running bad? I know this is a question to which there is no answer and any attempt to offer demonstrations inevitably turns into a bad-beat whine. HOWEVER, one hand summarises my efforts lately. I call a smallish raise from loose, bad, utg player while on button with unsuited AJ. Flop comes J 10 4 rainbow. UTG leads for 1/3rd pot and I smooth call - I'm more than likely ahead, but the small bet from this player could also mean a flopped set or two pair - if he leads the turn then I'll know he has a big hand and I can get away. Dealer burns and then the card which should be the turn is "boxed - it is face up - which allows us to see the Ace of spades. House rules say a boxed card goes straight into much to be replaced by the next card, which in this case was another J (the case jack, as it turns out). UTG leads, I raise my trips, he pushes, I call and he tables J 10 for flopped two pair that, through the beauty of randomness, went from being miles behind my turned two pair to being miles in front of my turned trips. When a boxed card sets up this scenario - well, that feels like running bad.

On a different note, I took the Donkey Test. Apparently I should be mid-level winner (I think my score would have been higher but I was interrupted half way through so my quick calculation measure was lower than it should be).

Playing Again

Naturally all of yesterday's rumblings about folding and taking breaks made me realise it was time to end my current mini-break. So I took a guy from work down to my local and introduced him to our game. He had never really played before, was still pretty confused about the hands but said he was keen so I figured what the heck. I had previously bragged around the office that I could teach anyone everything they needed to know to beat the local low limit game (which is a 1-2NL with a capped buy in of $80) in the amount of time it took to walk to the room and he decided to test my theory. Naturally he won for the evening and then spent the morning in my office wanting more information - it was kind of sad because I could see him processing the information and getting worse the more he understood. Last night he ran over the table playing my first-timers ultra tight ultra aggressive strategy. The next time he goes he will get murdered as he tries to play "better". Oh well.

My game was great. Some old faces I haven't seen for awhile and some new ones. Table was really great - I will never understand the idea of a calling station in a $5-$5 NL game, but they exist. I will also never understand those who try and bluff these calling stations. But last night I had both at my table - fortunately for me the main calling station was directly on my right. So after he had successfully stacked two "good" players who tried to run him off hands I proceeded to run my own "how much will he call pre-flop while folding to a C-bet" experiment. The answer appeared to be $120 (yes folks, that is 24bbs). It could be more, but he ran out of the necessary supplies so I was unable to test further.

I'll go back tonight and for most of the weekend as work has suddenly gone quiet again. We'll see how it works out - if I end the weekend hungover and angry at the idiots it will probably be time for another break.

Also, I've added the Poker Grump to my list of linked blogs. His name the casino game always makes me envious but he said some nice things to me so I guess it is time to behave like an adult.

Folding

"Whether he likes it or not, a man’s character is stripped at the poker table; if the other players read him better than he does, he has only himself to blame. Unless he is both able and prepared to see himself as others do, flaws and all, he will be a loser in cards, as in life." ~ Anthony Holden

Cardgrrl announced recently that she has folded her aspiration to be a professional poker player.

I suspect that the decision reflects, in the manner described by Mr Holden, sufficient self-knowledge to allow her to continue to make money playing cards.

The issue, I think, is the paradox of poker. Put simply, the more you learn the worse you get.

I have been thinking about this for awhile, and I have decided this is how our game plays. I know this sounds crazy, but think about it.

Think about the most fearsome player at the table - the one you hate to get into pots with. Is it the grizzled veteran who has been around, knows the odds and the angles? Or is it the 25 year old who appears to have worked out so much that what passed for his brain has been compressed to the size of a pea by all the muscle - who has demonstrated that AJ is a great hand to go all in with pre-flop - who's total aura of confidence is just as likely from the cocaine as the cards?

If you are like me you are more comfortable with the former - we have some idea where we are at. Against the latter we play our cards and hope for the best because it is simply impossible to get a meaningful understanding of where he is at - he doesn't know - how can we? But it changes as he learns. He studies some and, as a result, maybe understands how lucky he was to crush the game when all he had going for him was aggression and his girlfriend's bankroll. He begins to understand the nature of variance. His confidence suffers. We fear him less.

So the more he learns, the more he proceeds down the path towards understanding the vagaries of our game, the more comfortable we are playing him. He gets worse.

Taken to the logical extreme, it would seem that we are destined to continue to play, observe, learn -- and get worse. We hope for a moment of insight, a moment where all that hard work and thought will pay off in an epiphany of chips. But those pea-brained guys keep coming, those who bemoan the one time they fold because "I would have won you". It is unavoidable - relative to them we keep getting dumber.

Where does it end? I do not know. I know the cycles. We play tighter. We play looser. We play more aggressively in position. We bet marginal hands for value. We check behind. We practice pot-control. We read the latest in the hopes that this will have the trigger, the answer, the key. We adjust our game. We repeat.

Ultimately, we fold. A lot. Until it dawns on us that folding may be the only rational choice (even when we know it is not rational - but remember we continue to get worse by comparison - eventually we must fold all our hands). So we make the biggest fold possible - we get up and leave our game for awhile. How long that while is varies - for me the longest has been about three weeks but others may have learned more.

Good luck Cardgrrl.

A break or a breakdown

So, I decided over the weekend that I am going to take a break from live poker again. No real earth shattering reasons - just realised that I have been taking poor care of myself and this poor care is at least partially related to my poker game.

My local room is full of bad players who are there to gamble. This means that, on average, the best strategy is simply to extract value for your made hands as you will get it. But if you run bad like I have for a while now it can make the whole experience a bit soul destroying. Everyone plays different and everyone deals with playing different. When I have to sit for three hours surrounded by various forms of idiocy masquerading as male bravado while practicing my folding (right hand twist out of back of hand, left hand traditional, right hand traditional, repeat...) my coping mechanisms generally involve alcohol.

This coping mechanism tends to get a very serious workout when, after all that practicing at folding, I pick up a very playable pair of kings on the button and get called preflop, flop (K82) and all-in on the turn (a 5) by 64 off only to see the river 3 give my opponent a straight because "sorry dude, I just felt like outplaying you and I knew my hand would be good". I always try to compliment such play and avoid showing my hand if I can ("Nice hand sir. Me? Not much, certainly not enough to beat a straight. Well played"). But I'm human. Rather than vent all that outwardly I turn to the table beside me and consume what happens to be sitting there. Then the hot little French backpacker/cocktail waitress asks me if I want another. Boy, do I.

So I'm taking a break. Will probably last as long as I am really busy at work (most of September at this stage) but may only last for a day. I'm also going to play some on-line. I can scream at the players there.

Rivalries and Bad Play

So, as I mentioned in my last post, I spent the weekend in a different poker room. Ran atrociously bad (including another example of top set losing to four of a kind - but this was actually a running four of a kind instead of the set over set variety) so spent a fair bit of time at the equivalent of the 1-2NL tables drinking and trying not to spew beer over the table while laughing at various plays. This was made enjoyable by sitting with one of the few guys I consider a friend (he's from my local game and plays professionally - he is low key and happy to talk about poker so on the odd occasion we encounter each other outside the room it isn't too uncomfortable for either of us loner types) for several hours at the same tables.

Some of the play was literally laughable. Which is a bad thing as I drank too much and in this condition it is sometimes difficult to not laugh at laughable play. But the truly hard part to keep quiet about was the commentary after the laughable play - something that I think comes from the fact that this particular city has a decent card room but none of the low-level players have ever travelled. These players have learned the game from other testosterone-fueled idiots or on-line or by watching TV. Which means that in addition to being REALLY bad players, they have no sense of etiquette, take way too much time to make simple decisions, and generally are just plain rude.

Some random examples (keep in mind the blinds are $2 - $3 and the buy in is between $50 and $200 - yes this is seriously screwed up structure but I digress):

I'm on button with suited J10. I have $230 stack. 6 limpers to me so I make it $25 to go (Not a fan of J10, but want to see what happens). BB, Under the gun, mid position and cut off call, (yes folks that is four limps that call a bet of 8.5bbs. No, folks, I have no idea what anyone has either) and now there is $130 ish in the pot. Flop comes J54 two spades (which I don't have). Checked to mid position (has me covered) who bets $25 into this $130 pot. Cut off folds, I think for a minute and decide this bet is likely a flush draw or a middle pair bet (have seen lots of these middle pair bets) so I raise to $125 planning to put it all in on turn if I get called and brick comes. Folded to Mid who hems and then calls. We're heads up to see the turn of an offsuit 10. Mid checks again and push all in with my now top two. Mid calls and I roll my hand announcing that his set is good. He says he doesn't have a set and when a spade falls on river I figure he drew out, but no, he shows pocket kings and proceeds to yell at me for my J10. I quietly inform him that if he had executed his limp re-raise plan pre-flop he would have won the pot uncontested. Or if he had made a proper bet on the flop he might have won it there. He informed me he lost the last two times he had kings so he was trying to keep it small. But how could I raise with J10 when he had kings? "Sorry Sir, I just got lucky". And I heard about my luck for the next two hours.

Then there was the guy who called when I raised a straddle to $50 from the SB with 99 after 5 callers. His call left him exactly $7 behind. So I bet $8 blind and he calls after seeing a flop of 10 5 3 rainbow. I roll my hand and he waits for the turn and river to come running clubs before turning over Q7 of clubs for a running flush...

Last (ok there were dozens more, but this post is huge already) there was the guy who, having gotten himself in a hole on the river (He raised pre, was called by maniac, made a stiff bet flop that had two spades, maniac calls, third spade on turn goes check - check, River blank goes small bet - big raise by maniac) proceeded to spend precisely 13 minutes looking at his cards, talking, walking away from the table and repeating the process until someone at the table called time and a supervisor made it over to muck his cards. He spent the next hour threatening the guy who called time. "Look man, I play for money - what are you doing calling time, someone ought to give you a time, blah blah blah".

And so it goes.

Solitude has but one disadvantage -

it is apt to give one too high an opinion of one's self. In the world we are sure to be often reminded of every known or supposed defect we may have. -Lord Byron

Ok, it is a long way from one of the standard bearers for English Romanticism to the 21 year old computer jockey sitting 1-2 NL in his sunglasses and hooded sweatshirt. But if poker was around, Byron would have been playing (likely with someone else's money). Additionally, he knew the joys of solitude and making one's own way.

This quote cuts several ways for me. Like many regular players, I'm a loner. I do not remember when I became such a person, but at some point I just got into the habit of spending more time with me than with others to the point where now it feels like real work to "socialise". Small talk is for small minds and all that. For my poker this can be a problem because it is good to have people to discuss hands with, not to mention some support to cushion the inevitable crushing turns of fate. I am also prone to believe (despite much incontrovertible evidence to the contrary) that I am the smartest guy in the room. Which also results in my poker earn suffering.

I suppose this is much on my mind because I just returned from a long weekend in another city where I went to play poker. The main draw was a tournament with a decent payout (I don't play tournaments as a rule, but this was an exception). My tourney story can be summed up by saying I finished 55th out 523 entrants (bubble was at 42) having spent the entire morning of the second day looking for appropriate moments to get my stack in pre-flop. But I spent some time with some people I know from my regular game who were also in the same town for the same tournament. This, in turn, reminded me how out of practice I am at spending time with people away from the table. It also provided some interesting insights into my image at the table from those whom I play with.

Nothing earth shattering, but Byron was right.

"We must believe in luck...

otherwise how can we explain the success of people we dislike?" - This quote is attributed to Jean Cocteau who, among other things, apparently wrote lots of poetry and spent lots of time running around with beautiful, talented people.

I wonder sometimes, while I'm sitting at the table trying to choose between another glass of red and spending time sober with the latest group of illiterates seated around me, what it would be like to be in the company of, say, Picasso or Edith Piaf. Apparently not enough to stave off an opium addiction, but I wander.

I will likely never be a great poker player. This failure to achieve greatness will primarily result from my preference for disliking people and blaming their luck for my lack of success. The reason so few are great at anything (and certainly why I will struggle to approach greatness in this game) is it is much more difficult (and more honest and profitable) to examine my weaknesses and fix them than it is to blame the good luck of others for my misfortune.

One of the reasons we love this game, I think, is the long term fairness of it. Yes, the random aspect convinces people who suck that they don't. But this also keeps them at the table long past the point they would have left if we were playing chess for $1,000 a game winner take all. But ultimately it is fair. Make good decisions and you do good. Make earth-shatteringly stupid choices and watch people you instinctively hate walk away with your rent money.

Which brings me to this past weekend...

I'm sitting late in the evening having dropped a buy-in and ground it back. This table is about to break and I have too often made the incorrect wine choice. In short, I should get up (after all, walking away is easy once you're up). But along comes one of my favourite people to dislike - the well off banker type who is giving poker a try while his date works the black jack tables. I hate bankers. Primarily this is pure bonus envy, but I try and justify it by telling myself how they are leeches. So this guy plays for a few hands, an orbit at most. Doesn't get out of line - obviously has some clue how the game is played but just as obviously has not played live very much at all. Then the following hand comes up.

It starts with his group (being two other obviously drunk banker types and three women who likely lust after bonuses in a different, but no less vigorous, manner to me) showing at the rail and banker saying "just one more hand". Banker is on the button and he's on my left which makes me the cut-off. I raise preflop with KQ suited and get four callers. Flop comes K86 rainbow and it is checked to me. I lead and only the banker calls. He gets some encouragement from one of the women. Turn is a six, pairing the board. I make a small bet and banker announces he is all-in in as dramatic a fashion as he can - like he has been practicing this line in front of the mirror for just this occasion. So I go to muck my cards as I generally don't call all-in bets from idiot-newbie-bankers who are impressing their dates.

In fact, if my hands were just slippery enough I would have mucked them. But then I start to think. He doesn't have a six. Does he? It is his last hand. He's trying to impress the woman with something other than his bonus. What could he have? a King or a draw. Well, if it's a random king, I'm probably good. If it's a draw, I'm definitely good. He could just have offered me two buy-ins (did I mention that bankers buy-in big?). Those two buy-ins would square me for the weekend and, most importantly, show the women who the true man is. Wow, he's really that stupid that he would make that move with a draw? When I fold, he's going to show it and then get up and then laugh at me with the woman all night long. I have to be ahead, no way he has a six.

Ok, I call.

Of course, it isn't a good sign when the dealer looks surprised with your call. It's worse when the banker has a six. And when he leaves with your buy-ins promising to buy Dom for the woman with my money it really should be time to stand up. I hate it when others get lucky.

More non-poker information

Work sucks. I don't mean my particular job or my industry or any of that, just the idea of work generally. I can so clearly understand the allure of a Marxist vision to your average actual worker who, at the time, would have been busting their ass for 12 hours a day doing, you know, actual work. Me, I sit on my fat ass for about that long each day staring at a computer screen set against a window with what is, by all accounts, a pretty nice (and prestigious?) view of my city and its best landmarks (harbour, bridge, large recognisable building dedicated to the arts) and it looks good to me (the Marxist vision - although the harbour is pretty).

Mostly my distaste for work is the very pedestrian nature of it. Weren't we all meant for better things then passing the day grubbing (or protecting the rights of those who grub) for money? I mean, if I didn't have to come to work I could treat myself to leisurely mornings followed by long sessions playing live poker where I would... wait a minute. Some sort of consistency problem there. I'll get back to you.

Reading

I know this blogging caper is supposed to include references to other blogs and content. And I also know that the lack of such content suggests I'm only interested in myself. It turns out that the suggestion is probably true - I'm one of the most openly self-centred people I know.

Which does not mean I do not read. I read lots. Like this article on 2+2 by Andrew Brokos about capped ranges that I think does a great job of communicating simple hand reading tips. Like everyone else, I'm a fan of Tommy Angelo and my favorite is his great article Reciprocality. I also think Ed Miller does a great job of writing clearly about topics of various levels of complexity (and his new e-book simply rocks). I have loved, like everyone else, reading Cardgrrl's well thought out, insightful and clearly written reflections while she attempts to live the dream.

I also read the news, various random articles on philosophy, the New Yorker from cover to cover each week and as many online dating profiles as I can. Does any of this make me a better player? I'm not sure. But it can't hurt.

Weekend Update - Coolers

Everyone gets coolered (yeah, I just made that word up, but you know what I mean). Of course, the converse is that we all cooler others. I was thinking more about my decent weekend, trying to separate where I had played ok from where I had just got lucky and I can pretty confidently say there was only one cooler dished out by yours truly - but it was pretty bad.

I limp from second position with AQ suited (merits of this play to be discussed in another setting if desired). Lots of limpers to button who puts in small raise of 3bbs. I don't recognise button as a regular, but based on her accent and her demeanour I know she is familiar with the game generally. Probably not this game, and familiar doesn't mean good. But I figure she is slightly stronger than a local who puts in what is essentially a pot-sweetener. Then things get interesting as Big Blind re-raises to 12 bbs. I do know big blind, whom we will call S. S is very nice, plays quite a bit and has a clue. This squeeze type move could mean lots of things, but likely she has a hand that I am at best a coin flip with. But given the money already in, and the fact my cards play in a multi-way, I call. One other caller and then the button and we are four-handed to a flop of Kh Jh 10s. Short story is that S had kings, so she flops top set and I, drawing very thin pre-flop, flop the nut straight. Money gets in on flop and board doesn't pair and I double. S has officially been coolered and she deals like a pro. Funny how we forget giving these things out much easier than we forget getting them.

Weekend Update

So it's Monday. I'm naturally sitting at work thinking about poker, which is much worse than sitting at poker thinking about work. So what am I thinking about?

I suppose an update after my first proper weekend of playing live for awhile is in order. Played Thursday and Friday after work (not too much on around here - which is an issue for another life-tilt post) and Sat and Sunday. Finished Thursday up three buy-ins, promptly gave two back on Friday before sitting down to a 13 hour session on Saturday that saw me finish up almost eight buy-ins for the day. Only lasted about two hours on Sunday afternoon before giving up even for the day due to the desire to eat a real meal. So that's a return for the weekend of 9 buy-ins, which for a conservative player like me is a great result.

But what did I learn? That patience is the key in my game (still). That there is value, lots of value, to be had with made hands. That stupid resentment tilt on my part will only result in the stupid guy winning. That I have a decent image. That some guys can adjust to different games and others cannot. Those that cannot should probably stay on the internet so that when their head explodes after having their fancy play called down ("f#!king idiot - how can you call when I bet three times on that board, don't you know I'm representing the best possible hand - you absolute donk...") I don't get any of the mess on me.

Random hands remembered - multiway hand for 7bbs each (I'm not in) sees a flop of 245 rainbow. Under the gun (large stack, decent regular whom we'll call J) leads for 3/4 pot. Guy next to him who I have classified as athletic donk based on previous experience (Yes, it is a stereotype I'm not proud of, but short guys with big arms and big foreheads play in a certain not-too-nuanced manner in my experience and this guy fits the description -- we'll call him A) and who has a good stack as well (this is early in my time at table so no idea how he got it today) flat calls. Folded around and they see a turn card of another 2 so board is now 2452. J puts on his best hollywood before betting just slightly less than pot. A smooth calls. (at this stage I figure J for flopping a straight having called pre-flop with a suited ace or a much bigger monster of a set that just filled. I put A on some over pair that I'm wondering if he can get away from) River is a 3. Board now reads 24523. J tanks for a short period and then announces he is all-in. This is a massive over bet as while the pot is pretty bloated, J has about 2.5 times the pot behind. A has slightly less, but would be calling his entire stack which is substantial. I'm thinking J over played it and won't get value when A, after tanking for a long time, calls. J rolls his set/full house and A shows his pocket aces which made the bottom end of a one card straight on the river. So, in addition to all the full houses and quads, he's beaten by any six (and J would have played a pair of sixes this way) but he calls his entire stack anyway. Maybe it was a cooler but I have to think he could have gotten away from it. I'd like to believe I could have. Although I would have raised the flop and then not put another cent in after J smooth called, but everyone plays different.

I always hate these kinds of results as they chase A away for a few weeks and, more importantly, leave his money with someone else. May post some other random hands from the weekend later.

Variability

In case it isn't apparent from my posts, I took some time off from the game recently. This was the result of many things, but primarily giving most of my bankroll to the holders of undersets when their one-outer comes on the river. I'm not one to tell bad beat stories. Really. But when the third guy in two weeks hits his fourth 9 on the river to scoop a pot that would have paid for my month in Vegas it may just be time to get out of town.

So what happened during the year since I started this blog and then failed to post? Well, during the past year I have played in Macau, Vegas and my home town. I spent a month getting Iron Man status on Full Tilt so I could understand what the attraction of playing on-line is. My dog died. My ex-wife had a baby and forbid her family to tell me about it so I only found out when my annual health-insurance claim summary came in (Hmm, I'm sure I didn't need an obstetrician this year...). I went a month without drinking. I went a month without not drinking. I got comped a meal in a nice vegas restaurant because the bartender felt bad I had to spend the entire time being abused by my date ("Thanks - the ceviche was awesome as was the flight of tequilas - everything really, except for the screaming-harpy-bitch. No, I really couldn't accept. Really, that bad? Ok, then, some more tequila. God bless you.") And the only clothes I have that fit feature more than a little elastic.

What have I learned? Well, I'm underbankrolled for the games I play. This really isn't an issue since I have a job and I'm not trying to make a living but a not even horrendous down swing can eat my bank roll. People are not smarter as a result of the recent financial downturn - just poorer (there is a whole post coming comparing the similarities between guys who get rich on Collateralizing debt obligations without actually understanding them and guys who call 8bb raises with 96off and rake pots when the flop comes 966). And the earth keeps spinning.

Like I said, the more things change...

What Could I Do - July 2009 Version

So it has been awhile since I posted regularly and in that time my local game has changed. But as someone much smarter than me once said, the more things change the more they stay the same...

I stopped in to my regular game on the way home from work today for a short session. And I was reminded that "what could I do" is still the most popular excuse for making poor plays. Here's an example from tonight's session: I'm on button with A10 clubs. It's limped around to kid who has been playing relatively tight - he raises to 6bb leaving him a good sized stack of about 300bb. Cutoff calls and so do I. Of course this means more callers and then we're 6 handed with a bloated preflop pot.

Flop comes all spades and ace high. Checked to a not very attentive gentleman (off duty taxi driver) who is sitting on a relatively large stack (200bb) and also happens to be immediately to the right of pre-flop raiser. Gentleman bets the pot. Entire table prepares to muck cards as everyone recognises that gentleman's any two suited approach has paid off. Original raiser who is next to act thinks for a minute and smooth calls. I immediately put him on either made flush or a draw to the K spades. Everyone else folds (including me).

Turn is a blank and Gentleman makes another decent sized bet. Original raiser thinks, and min raises. Now it is clear he has a big flush. Gentleman pushes his stack, original raiser calls and shows flopped nut flush. Gentleman tables 73 of spades for flopped flush, shrugs his shoulders and says, "what could I do?". Besides not playing cards designed to flop second (or third) best hands, I really wanted to tell him the answer was an obvious fold on the turn - yeah it sucks but he was obviously behind and drawing dead. Why put in your last 100bbs when you are drawing dead? But what could he do...

Mad Crush

So it turns out I'm a nerd. I read way too much and find myself most comfortable when able to spend time discussing obscure topics of limited interest to the general population. Professionally this translates to actually enjoying discussions about the relevance and admissibility of evidence relating to prior negotiations when attempting to construe contractual warranties. Personally this means I like poker. Happy to discuss the hard decisions like they are important while fully aware of their overall insignificance in relation to my earn.

I have also noticed this "nerdliness" gets progressively worse (better?) as I age. I am prematurely reaching curmudgeon status, which is not really something I'm excited about. Especially when it comes to the topic of this post - women. It seems I have a mad crush on a poker blogger (aka Cardgrrl) and I really have no idea what to do about it. Now I realise that there is little that can be done in these circumstances without violating laws relating to stalking in several jurisdictions (and in case the aforementioned Cardgrrl is nervous - I'm not doing anything - so that person who keeps calling and hanging up is not me - honest, check my phone records). But the specific here is, as is often the case, a perfect metaphor for the general. I'm a curmudgeonly, pre-maturely old nerd who spends his free time surrounded by people I hope are dumber than I am so I can take their money.

I suppose, in hindsight, it isn't surprising I struggle to find dates worth going on.

Wow. Where did that year go?

So here I sit wondering where that year went. It just evaporated, really. Anyway, going to make another effort at the blog thing.