Timing Is Everything

Arriving at Lil's to play, I'm in the parking lot looking for a spot when I see Mr. Traffic exit his parked Mercedes, and start walking towards the door.

He see me and waves, and I smile and wave back, but it's fake.  I'm never happy to see this guy.  

Some so-called "good" players have lots  of talent, some have a deep understanding of poker theory, to include probability and strategy, and some have the perfect demeanor, with just the right attitude, composure and resolve, to always play their best.  And don't we all know some guys who are strong in one category, but weak in another?

Traffic is the one guy I know who shines in ALL those areas, and more.  In my book, he's the best player around.  And while I respect and admire all that, and aspire to be just like him when I grow up, I also wish he'd stay the hell away from my game.  Fortunately, Traffic usually does have bigger fish to fry,  bigger games to play in, Vegas or LA, so we don't see him at Lil's all that often.  Thank you.

By the way, where I can easily give Traffic a 4.0, here's how I would  grade myself in those same areas:

• Talent:  D+
• Theory:  B-
• Demeanor & Resolve:  A-

So anyway, Traffic walks on in while I park, and by the time I get in there he, plus some other guy I didn't even see coming, are already on the board ahead of me.  Turned out that meant waiting for a seat two hours longer than I otherwise would have.

That sucked.  So I plotted and planned, and resolved to be ready next time that situation came up.  Sure enough, it did happen again, three times, over the next couple weeks.  I was ready.

Each time I'm arriving, looking for a parking spot, when I see another 20/40 player also trying to park, or maybe already parked, and walking towards the door.  And each time I zipped right up by the front door, left it running, in Park, and dashed inside to get on the board, before what's his name.  Then I went back out, and parked.

Because sometimes, timing is everything.

Picking your spot, and chosing just when to "make your move" in the game, is another place where timing is everything.

I've been reading a couple books that may be a little outside the mainstream, published by Lyle Stuart and written by "Anonymous."  The titles are:

• Play Poker Like a Pigeon and Take the Money Home
  
• The Education of a Poker Pigeon

They contain some gems of wisdom from a long-time pro, various other good stuff, some bullshit, in places, but overall both books are a great read.

One spot-on thing Mr. Anonymous says that is that you can't beat the game being a tightass all the time.  Yes, you basically must play tight aggressive, but sometimes you also need to play loose aggressive, in part to avoid being too predictable.   Just enough to create what another wonderful book I've been reading calls F.U.D. (Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt) — in your opponents minds.  Done right, this can even force them to become more predicable.  Win-Win.  It's just that you can't do it too much, and have to carefully pick your spot. 

Picking Your Spot

I've been in the main game, seat two, for a couple hours, and Felix moves over from the second game, and into seat one, just in time to post the big blind.

He's a small guy, about my age, works in a shipyard, and to me he looks, or seems, like a gypsy.  I'm not quite sure just what that means, but it's the word that comes to mind when I see him.  

He only shows up once in a blue moon, and I had only seen him a couple times before, but he made a big impression both times.

Felix likes to drink beer.  Lots of beer.  This time, as soon as he sat down, I was overcome by what seemed like a stench of stale beer mixed with rotten salami.  Or something.  Nasty.  So leaned away.

Felix likes to talk, to make a speech pretty much every time it's his turn to act, and he plays nearly every hand, so the game gets slow.  Oh well.

Felix likes to try to run over you, and will bet and raise with nothing, and with no fear, then be surprised, if not amazed, when he doesn't win.

So he posts, and I look down at K5 suited, under the gun.  Well I don't even play K9 suited in that spot, but in this case the first THREE guys on my left were already *telling* me that they're folding.

Plus, the button is also giving that same tell.

Plus, my K5 suited was Spades.  Ok, go ahead and laugh, but to me Spades have more aesthetic appeal than the other suits.  Or maybe I just use suit to help with randomization.

Plus, I've been reading all that stuff mentioned above, and waiting patiently for the right moment to to get crazy just one time, and this seems like as good a time as any. 

So I open raise.  With K5 Spades.  Under the gun.  Yeah, I couldn't believe it either. 

Everyone who had given the "I'm folding" tell did indeed fold, but everyone else called.  Oops.  Then Felix three bets.  Ouch.  Well, shit, I'm committed now, and I cap it.

Flop comes T 5 3 with one Spade, and we cap it again, and only lose one guy.  I'm thinking that I probably have 5 outs, plus that backdoor flush draw.  I'm praying real hard.

No more waiting, a miracle 5 on the turn, and now I'm thinking nobody will put me on trips, and one or more of these guys is gonna try to run over me, try to represent a 5 himself, and try to knock me off of [whatever they think is] my hand in this big pot.  

And that's just what happened, with Felix leading the charge.  Capped again on the turn, now 4 way.

Then Felix bets again on the river, I raise again, the two others fold, and Felix just calls.  He had Ace Ten. 

• Size of pot:  Dunno.  Usually I count bets, and know this, but this time, in all the excitement, I lost track.
• Wisdom of my play here:  Debatable

• Gasps of shock from other players when I turned over that hand in that spot:  Priceless.

So I'm stacking chips, and telling myself that the party is over, and now I need to go back to my normal tightass play.  But then very next hand here I am in the Big Blind with Ad Qc, and it's raised.  So I reraise.

Big Chick

Classic Hold Em doctrine rightfully calls Ace Queen an inferior starting hand.  And if Mr. Tightass raises early and I'm right behind him, then yes, it's an easy fold.

But in the fast and loose Diamond Lil's Party Poker game, I give Big Chick a battlefield commission, and promote her to Group I.  In these games, she just seems to me to be so much better than most of what these guys are usually playing.  

Yes, sometimes I'm wrong; sometimes I get dominated, and burn some chips.  But more often she IS the best, and when she does hold up, the extra bets that went in preflop more than makes up for those other times.

This time it wasn't the preflop bets.  This time I kind of went crazy again, but it turned out well.  

Flop comes 894, two clubs, then another club on the turn, and another on the river, and lots of action along the way.  I shouldn't be chasing the flush with anything less than the Ace or King, and was actually more hoping to pair one of my overcards, and hoping that would be best.

But now 4 Clubs out there, and Felix, Small Blind so still on my right, gives a speech: "Let me check and see if I have a club."  Then he bets.

It's been a long time since I looked at my pocket cards.  Felix was a logjam on every betting round, took forever to play this hand, and now I'm asking myself how stupid I'll feel if I call and then it turns out I don't actually have the Queen of Clubs.  

I mean, it's not like it never happened that I ain't even got down there what I think I got.  So I give a speech also:  "Yeah, I better look back too."

Surprise!  I honestly thought I had Ad Qc, but turns out I had it backwards!  Ace of Clubs.

"Whoa, WTF is this?"  Then I twist my cards around 180 degrees and look again, from the other end.  "Oh.  OK.  That's better.  Raise!"

After that:

1. I really did go back to being Sergeant ROCK. 
2. Felix made a $3,500 power rebuy.

20-30-60-60 In The Dark with Maniacs

Last Saturday was one crazy day.  Played real late Friday, head finally hit the pillow around 4:30 AM, and up a little past Noon on Saturday.  

But then before I can do anything, boom, we lose power at home.  Windstorm.


Well, shit, can't even make coffee.  Sure glad I showered before bed, and that I have some daylight to work with.  Now I can just throw on some clothes, head straight to Lil's, and hope for an open seat in the 20?

I wish.  Full game, and I'm fifth up.  So I sit at a deadspread, surf the web with my smallest laptop, have breakfast, and an hour later I'm first up.  

Then I take a good look at the game, and yowie kazowie, what a lineup!  Perhaps the biggest and best collection of talent ever seen all at one table at the same time.  I may have actually salivated a little.  Or was that just some residual drool from breakfast?  

Anyway, we got:


Seat 1.  Rudolph Valentino.  A tall slender mystery man from far far away.  Perhaps extra-terrestrial?  I mean, species indeterminate.  Only faced this guy a couple times, and barely have a handle on his play.  But so far it seems like he just kind of mentally rolls the dice whenever he needs to make a decision, then follows some randomly chosen option.  Huh?   I know.  That didn't make any sense to me either.  But that's Rudy.


Seat 2.  Leisure Suit Larry.  50ish, monied and always well dressed Mr. Clean super whitebread entrepreneur businessman.  The center of the (his own) universe.  Splashes chips around like candy.   Pigeon.  The only thing I don't like about Larry is how he only shows up once a month or so.  He needs [We need him] to become a regular.


Seat 3.  Narcissus Culus.  Atlanta Braves shortstop and leadoff batter.  Known some for mouthing off without even knowing WTF he's talking about, and for vulgarity, misogyny, an annoying falsetto laugh, and a wild throwing arm.  What's not to love?


Seat 4.  A. M.  Initials stand for Alpha Male?  Seattle Seahawks  jersey number 01010101, but out injured this year. 

   Friendly & easy-going guy
 + Wild and crazy player     
 = Good times all around

Likes to straddle, sometimes waits for the river to look at his cards.  I need the money, or at least want the money, and am here trying to play good, and win.  But this guy?  Not particularly.  He's here to have a good time, and pretty much always succeeds, win or lose.  Gotta love that.


Seat 5.  Russell the Muscle.  RtM himself would tell you that he has spent too many thousands of hours in the psychiatrist's office, in expensive therapy sessions, for years and years.  Seriously— that's neither joke nor exaggeration; I know it to be true, and also know that he would freely admit to it, and might even brag about it.  Need I say more?  OK, fine; I will.  Headcase.  Nutjob.  Complete wacko.  But watch your ass, because in spite of all that he's no dummy, and can be quite dangerous.



Seat 6.  Baby Huey.  Nice guy compulsive gambler with so much pent-up nervous energy, sometimes I worry he might just explode.  I used to get happy — see dollar signs  — when he sat down.  But now that I know him better, well, he's such a sad case that now I'm conflicted, and am kind of sorry to see him show up.


Seat 7.  The Engineer.  I've been begging  this guy, for years, to please just stay home, and let somebody else take his seat.  Somebody who wants to donate.  Hasn't worked yet.

Seat 8.  Flycatcher.  Atlanta Braves utility outfielder.  Usually tight and semi-tough, but with a minor league attitude, and a major league tilt factor.


Seat 9.  Bambi.  A deer in the headlights who plays loose passive, and is short on experience, skill and awareness, but is always willing to put chips in the pot.  Bottom pair, shit kicker, three bets on the flop?  Sure, why not.  Might get lucky.  And sometimes he does, so then, like anyone who plays lots of hands, sometimes he grows a big stack for a while.  But not for long.

So let's recap.  The table features:

  -  2 Atlanta Braves.  Just right.  Try to get a seat just downwind from either one of them.

  -  2 World class professional narcissists, and a couple highly ranked amateurs.

  - 4 Chip burners who by themselves are usually the MVP in any game.  So when you got four,  they can't all be most valuable, can they?   What are we gonna do here, have a competition, and rank them?  This I gotta see.

There is, of course, some overlap in those categories, some guys who fit in more than one.  Do we need a venn diagram?  :-)

But Wait.  There's More.

Just about then Rudy gets up, and I get called for the game.  And just about that same time, the remaining players decide they want to play 30/60 overs.  Huh?  I'd never seen overs play allowed at DL, but next thing I know the floorman produces overs buttons, EVERYONE takes one, and we're playing 20-30-60-60.

Crazy, baby!  These guys want to gamble so bad that they somehow coerce the house into upping the stakes, plus they're rammin' and jammin' like there's no tomorrow.  

The craziness peaked maybe a hour later, in a hand where UTG straddled, then the betting was capped before and on the flop, and on the turn.  At that point it's down to three players, but only one of them has bothered to look at his cards!  Then, as the dealer is bringing the river, the players agree that there will be no more betting, just the showdown.

The rest of the play wasn't quite that wacky, but much of it came close.  Not so much dark betting as just crazy betting, steamroller style.

And for this 20-30-60-60 structure, I'm asking myself what kind of changes to make, and remembering when we played 20-40-80-80 at the Muckleshoots some years ago.  

Back then I thought about it long and hard, and concluded that, before the flop, small pairs should go up in value, while drawing hands like suited connectors would lose value.

Why?  Well, pocket fives might see the flop cheaply, then punish them for bigger bets when it hits a set.  In other words, implied odds improve.

On the other hand, when 98 suited flops a straight or flush draw, now you gotta pay bigger bets to chase it, even when the preflop pot is relatively small.  So implied odds are worse than in the normal structure.

But that's just my take on it.  What do you think?  And are there other strategy changes for this structure, maybe a couple borderline situations where the balance might tip one way or another when post-flop bet size goes up more steeply than usual?

Actually, it's all moot now.  DL Party Poker flew on overs afterburners for just that one day and night, then management decided they don't like it, and said nevermore.  Sure was fun while it lasted.

A DL dealer kindly loaned me a really entertaining poker book by "Anonymous" (no kidding).  Lots of very funny anecdotal stuff.  The author kept making fun of "The Weak Player's Fourth Street Checkraise,"  his name for those frequent situations where just betting the turn is the much better play, but pigeons often try to get cute.

A couple of the guys in this game kept making exactly that same pigeon play, a couple times against me.  And it backfired on them almost every time, too.

One time Larry slowplayed his flopped set of sixes, letting me continue, where I would have folded had he properly protected his hand against a threatening (flush draw) board.  

Then he goes for the checkraise on the turn, but nobody bets, and the free card lets me back into and river an unlikely straight, and it's the nuts.  Thank you.  Then he goes for the checkraise AGAIN, but oops, he gets re-raised.  He calls.  Thank you again.

Overtime.

So I played 20-30-60-60 from 3:00 PM until 4:00 AM, or 14 hours total.  Sound wrong?  Bad math?  That would be wrong, except Daylight Savings Time ended that night, and the clock got rolled back an hour.  

It kind of feels to me like some kind of a voodoo magical time when we have that once a year re-do, and get to live that one hour all over again.  So add that to all the other things that made this a standout day.

I took some swings in the session, but nothing major; up a rack, down a rack, back and forth in some of the wackiest play you ever saw, and when it was over I was pretty much right back where I started.  But what a ride!

Plus, I experienced a lifetime first.  Until that day I had never, ever, checked or bet "in the dark."  Not even once.  But heads up, I'm first, and the other guy only has two chips left, so what the hell.  Put it in.  :-)

Who?

I'm sitting at a deadspread, waiting for a seat in the 20 game, and meanwhile using my truly tiny Sony VAIO mini-PC.  I do that a lot while waiting. 

This guy I've seen around the room, but don't actually know, approaches, and super politely asks: 

"Excuse me, would it be OK if I ask you a question?"

"Hi!  Yeah, sure," I reply.  I expect he wants to ask how I can see the 9" screen, or maybe something else, about the PC.  Lots of people do.  But not this time.

"In your blog you quote something called 'Fich' now and then,"  he says.  "Is that a book, or some kind of system, or something?  I tried to look it up, but I hit a blank."

Wow.  First off, I'm completely thrilled to hear that somebody actually reads my blog.  It gets so few comments that sometimes I wonder.  Thank you!

No, Fich is the nickname, shortened last name, for my old Blackjack and Poker buddy, Keith F., a regular from RGP, the rec.gambling.poker newgroup on usenet.  You know, back in the day.  We met at a blackjack table at the Frontier, Las Vegas, in 1992.  Or maybe '91. 

His actual last name runs 11 letters, just like mine, and who wants to deal with all those vowels and consonants anyway?  So he just calls himself Fich.  I call him King of the One Liner.  For example, this is the guy who famously said:

"I don't need to read any more poker books.  I already know how to play way better than I do."  

The sad part?  He wasn't kidding.

Another time some guy was in the game and babbling on and on, talking non-stop about everything in general, i.e., nothing in particular, just making noise.  Lots of noise.  Then he said something about following sports betting lines, making picks, and carefully tracking his results, even though he was "just making mental bets."  

Fich couldn't resist.  He immediately asked the guy:  "Mental bets?  Are you sure you have the bankroll for that?"

I steal his jokes so much that I feel obligated to mention him now and then, give some attribution.  So that's what a Fich is.  And thanks for asking.  

Ask anything.  Email me:

sgt777rock (at) gmail (dot) com

Brokeback Mountain

I find Two Cowboys in the pocket, early position, and open-raise.  Mystery Man 3-bets from the middle, Smiley caps it from the blind, and the flop comes J43, two hearts.  


I got no heart, and my impulse is of course to raise Smiley when he bets it, but this time I just call.  I wanna see what the guy in between us gonna do.  I been watching him, trying to get a handle on his play, but so far I got nothing.  Anyway, he just calls.

Turn is the Queen of Diamonds, Smiley bets again, and I fold.  Yes, you read that right.  If you are surprised,  just imagine how I felt!  I mean, who lays down Kings in that spot?  

Shouldn't I more likely be raising?  I couldn't believe it either, and can't really explain it, but I just knew I was beat.  Turned out Smiley got called down to the river, and turned out Smiley had flopped a set of Jacks.


So I felt like I played those Kings crazy good, or maybe just crazy, but certainly instinct had served me well, and I felt good about it, until a little later when I found Two Cowboys in the pocket again.  This time I was a complete and total moron, and did everything wrong.

First off, I thought I was open-raising from middle position, but turned out UTG had already raised, and somehow I didn't see that, so I inadvertently just called him.  What an asshole!  




Then, when the flop came with an Ace, and another Ace on the turn, I was still so rattled by my pre-flop fuckup that, well, look, let me just take the fifth on this one, and decline to further describe play of the hand, on the grounds that I  might  would tend to humiliate myself.  Let's just stipulate that I blew it, big time, far worse that anything smart I might have done with those earlier Kings.   So the sum of my Kings that day:  I sucked.


Later I had pocket Deuces in the Big Blind, it's raised and re-raised before me, and if I call it will be four way action, and is likely to get capped behind me.  Should I call?  Would you call?  I didn't.  I don't think I could call there with pocket nines, although with 99 I might occasionally cap it in that spot, depending on where those first couple raises came from.

Anyway, I folded my Deuces, and it did get capped, and of course the flop came a Deuce, and another Deuce on the turn, and at that moment the Monte Carlo for 2222 was $499.  Oh well.

Route 66

Pocket Sixes in late position, and I get trapped for a 4 bet cap, but six way action.  No problem.  Thanh, Hagen, Hung, me, Han, and Mr. "You Got It."  Let there be flop.


And behold there was flop, and it came 984, with two clubs.  One bet, no raise, and everyone did call.


5 on the turn, still two clubs, and now two diamonds also.  Check, bet, call, fold, I call, fold, and Thanh checkraises.  Well, shit, what she got?  I have last action on the raise.  

Gutshot draw, big pot, but with two possible flush draws out there too.  I'm not liking it much.


All along I've been counting bets, and thinking probabilities.  All along I've felt like I just barely had good enough odds to be putting in all those chips.  Well, almost.  If you don't count the possible flush that could kill my gutshot, if they both come in together.  And how could I have ignored how anyone with Jack Ten will completely ruin my day if my 7 does come in, and how that officially makes me a dumbass for still even being in this hand.  

But screw all that.  I'm calling.  Until now I've just been involved in this pot, but now I am committed.

Q:  What is the exact difference between involvement and commitment?


A:  This is best illustrated by a breakfast of bacon and eggs.  The chicken is merely involved, but the pig is demonstrably and irrevocably committed.  Any questions?


And in this pot, yes, I am committed, just like that pig.  Come on 7.  Gimme a 7.  Daddy need a 7.  And hopefully NOT the Club, nor even the Diamond.


Surprise!  River is the 6 of Spades.  OK, fine.  Plan B.  Thanh bets, Hagen calls, and I *really* want to raise, even with that scary board.  

Yes, Thanh could have a set of Nines or Eights.  And a Seven in anyone's hand makes them a straight.  I still think my surprise 666 is best, and even say so, out loud, that I wanna raise, but how dumb I'll feel if I'm wrong.  So I just call.  

Thanh turns over 85, two pair, so I do feel a little dumb, but get over it quickly, showdown my set, and stack the chips.

Hurts So Good

Taking a Hit, and Liking It.

Last Monday was the best day of my retirement so far.  We took the day off from poker, drove up to the University of Washington Seattle Campus, met up with our grandson, got the short tour, a peek at the dorm room he moved into a couple weeks ago, and grabbed a bite on University Ave.  But before all that we stopped at the teller window and paid his tuition, in cash, from my poker bankroll.  Taking a hit like that usually hurts some, maybe a lot.  But not this time.  No, this time it felt *really* good.
:-)

The dorm was a surprise, and reminded me how outdated my thinking can be sometimes.  Wondered if the men's dorm would be off limits to ladies, such that Mrs. Rock can't visit?  Silly me.  Turns out they're co-ed dorms, with girls and boys in rooms right next to, or across the hall from, one another.  

Anyway, this was a start towards my goal of putting three grandkids through college with poker winnings, but it's a damn slow start.  If a pro in a juicy game like the DL 20/40 should expect to win upwards of 1 Big Bet Per Hour, well, I'm coming in closer to 1 SMALL bet per hour.  At this rate, I'll spend way more hours in the game than the kids do in the classroom!

I still know what I need to do to improve on that, same as before:  Get stupid less often.  Pay attention better.  Or put even more simply, just . . .

Think!

It's a typical Diamond Lil's Party Poker Game.  20/40 Limit Hold Em, where Smilin' John is raising, and Bill Hagen 3 bets right behind him, hand after hand.  I'm a couple seats behind them, and am mostly watching, and folding, and waiting for some playable cards.  Still, 4-5 players are seeing most flops.

Then comes a hand where someone limps before John, he just limps too, for a change, Bill raises, and I have 99.  Looks like gonna be another caller or two, I cold-call the raise, and Boogie calls behind me.  But then John 3-bets, Hagen caps it, Boogie and I call, and the others drop.  

So 20 bets in the pot, including some dead money, the flop comes KQ4, John bets his last $12, and Bill calls.  And shame on me for not noticing sooner that John was going all-in.  Now I'm feeling pretty damn stupid about calling 4 bets, when the guy I'm up against has no chips left to pay me, even if I did flop the set that I'm probably gonna need here.

So I'm not loving it, but I call the $12 all-in bet to see the turn.  It comes another Queen, and Bill bets right out.  I pull my cards from under the protector, and am just about to pitch them into the muck, but . . .

But wait a minute!  If Bill had a King or Queen, he NEVER would have just called John's $12 all-in flop bet.  He'd have raised for sure.  WTF was I thinking?  That's the problem; I wasn't!  So I slide my cards back under the protector, grab some chips, and raise.  He calls.

River comes another Queen, checked to me, and I can't think of a reason to bet now, so I check too.  Turns out John and Bill both have Ace-rag, and my QQQ99 takes it.

Home Improvement

Diamond Lil's has a new owner/partner, and some new cardroom management, and things are looking up.  The new guys are smart, engaged, and seem sincerely committed to making it a better room, and a better game.  I know, right?  Hard to believe!  But it's true.

The Monte Carlo payouts are back, nice new speedcloth on all the tables, and 20/40 is now truly a RED CHIP game, with no more stupid breakdown of the odd $5 chip in a split pot, and no more going all-in for odd amounts.  $5 increments only now.  It's about time.

Hit any quads now, and get paid between $100 and $499, depending.  And the progressive bonuses for Royal Flush and Straight Flush Wheel, separate jackpot for each suit, keep growing daily, until they get hit.  The Clubs Royal payout got up over $15,000, then some lady hit it last week.  Nice payday for a $4/8 game!

Oh, and they're also bringing back the NL Tournaments, every Sunday, at 10:00 AM.  $60 buy-in; no rebuys.  I myself never get up that early any more, and don't much do tournaments anyway.  But lots of players do, and these DL Sunday morning tournaments used get a pretty good turnout, and probably will again.

The Kid From Pullman

The Frisco Kid was a pretty funny 1979 movie, with Gene Wilder as a young new Polish Rabbi.  His bosses are sending him to America, in the mid 1800's, to take on a new congregation in San Francisco.  

"Where's that?" he asks. 

"By New York,"  they tell him.

So his ship arrives, he learns that San Fran is NOT "By New York," and the rest of the film is about his cross-country trip to get there, accompanied and guided by an outlaw he meets up with (Harrison Ford).

Nowadays, every time I see Dustin, a 20/40 MVP at DL, I am reminded of that movie, and that "San Francisco is by New York" dialog.

Dustin was a track star at Washington State University (aka Wazzu, in Pullman, WA) some years ago, ran 100 meters in 10.07 seconds, and led the team to an NCAA championship one year.  After college he also played NFL football for a couple years, with the Cleveland Browns.

Originally from Nigeria, he was a track star back home too, and came to America on an athletic scholarship.  Apparently several different schools were recruiting him at the time.  Unfamiliar with the geography, he picked WSU because, he reasoned, it should be close to Washington, D.C.. True story.

Seems like it all turned out well for Dustin.  He got his MBA in Finance, has a good job, and now has a couple college age sons, athletes both, making their Father proud.  He's an outgoing guy, fun to talk with, gets a little hot when he loses, but who doesn't?  I guess the only thing I don't like about Dustin is how he left town last week, just because his employer reassigned him to their Dallas office.  We'll miss you, buddy!

Party Poker

Everything changed for me on May 1, and life has been kinda crazy ever since.  That's not a complaint, just an observation.  I pulled this classic old book off my shelf and set it on my desk, just because the title so perfectly describes exactly what I've been doing since then.




I've played 20/40 at DL nearly every day, and in spite of remarkably great games, have won so little that at this rate it will take the whole year to earn the college tuition that I'm supposed to be working on.

Looking back, I'm reasonably happy with most of that play, but I can't stop wondering how the BR would look if it weren't for those other times, when I got stupid.  In other words, the player giving me the most trouble lately is that guy I saw yesterday, in the restroom, when I accidentally looked in the mirror.

Did I say great games?  Yes, still.  Perhaps more than ever.  Especially after 9:00 pm, after the married pros have gone home to their honeys, and the serious drinking gets started, and the pot starts getting capped 5 ways before the flop.  Yes, the experts will tell you that a passive game is better, and I won't deny that it should produce less fluctuation, than this wild, Rammin' & Jammin' Party Poker.  But when you got so many players calling so many raises with trash hands, and you're only playing quality hands, then you can generate a decent edge in preflop play alone.

Wait for the flop, wait to see if I have anything, before raising with big cards?   Hell, no!  Get as many chips in there as possible when they're calling with garbage,  BEFORE they discover that they didn't connect.  Well, at least that's my thinking here, so I won't hesitate to jam it with big cards, and perhaps with too little regard for position.

The other night there were three limpers, then Slowroll Don raises from late-middle position, and I three bet right behind him with AQ offsuit.  Both blinds and the limpers call, Don caps it, and nobody drops.  28 bets in the pot, and we haven't even seen the flop yet.

All the Limit Hold Em books you read as a new player talk about how "Big cards, like AK, AQ, etc., play well against few opponents, while drawing hands and small pairs play better against multiple opponents."   Did that make any sense to you the first time you heard or read it?   Me neither.  But then it didn't take very long to get that, did it?   

OK, so if that "Common Wisdom" suggests that AQ against a raise, with several players already in isn't such a great holding, then why would I three bet?  Good question.

Sometimes AQ in early or middle position is a fold, if a tight player already raised.  But this is DL Party Poker, and if Don had 3 bet after some ding-dong raised before him, then I probably would have capped it, with little or no hesitation.  Party Poker means several things, and foremost is that they play all kinds of trash hands.  

Yes, it's important to remember that the dingalings get pocket Aces and Kings, and other big cards just as much as you do, but on average I'm gonna have way the best here, and, as Fich famously advised:  "Play better cards, for more money, from later position."

All things considered, this hand had a happy miracle ending.  Not supposed to happen this way.  Flopped Queen high and capped five way, 4 callers on the turn, the river made a possible straight flush, but nobody had either one, and my unimproved top pair best kicker took down 58 bets.  Just like I planned it.

Right Fold, Wrong Reason

I don't know why I keep torturing and humiliating myself, posting about those nightmare laydowns.  You know, hands where I convince myself that I'm beat, and should lay down, and do, then find out I was best after all, and wonder if I should have known that. 

I thought it happened again the other night, against two of the wackiest, and therefore most difficult to read guys you ever saw.  Turned out this time I really was beat, but in a pretty bizarre way.

Couple players walking, just 6 dealt in, and Curly open limps UTG.  Muck, muck, and I raise on the button with As7s.  B.C. calls from the small blind, and we see the flop 3 way, with 7 bets in the pot. 

I myself am officially a Medicare card-carrying old fart now, but Curly was a rounder, running some probably scary games, or so I've heard, before I was even born.  Now the man is 95 years old, no joke, and still drives to DL in his Dodge Dakota pickup.
These days he plays a cautious, passive, and mostly oblivious game, often trying rather ineptly to slowplay, and to set traps.  Rarely open raises, but likes to limp with his stronger hands, and lots of weak hands too.

They say he owns half of Auburn, WA, and can easily afford his losses at DL.  Fine.  God Bless America.  But don't ever try to put Curly on a hand, because half the time he himself doesn't even know WTF he got.

Then B.C., my other opponent in this hand, will tell you that his initials stand for Black Chinese.  And that makes perfect sense, too, since he's a large Ethiopian guy, from Vancouver, Canada.  B.C. is big and tall enough to be intimidating, but turns out to be happy-go-lucky, laughing, smiling and friendly.

He's also a Will Rogers of Poker, who never met a starting hand he didn't like.  And it's a safe bet B.C. never read a poker book, either, but I sure wish he'd write one, and tell what makes him do the inexplicable things he does.

OK, so here I am with A7, in position,  against two ostensibly weak, and yet Dangerously Unpredictable opponents, and the flop comes AQQ.  They check, I bet, and they both call.  Turn comes a Jack, and they both check again.  Should I bet again?

B.C. won't hesitate to check-raise here with any draw, or even with nothing, and either of these guys could actually be sitting on a Queen.   Chance the river will hurt me seems small, and chance my check here could encourage someone to bluff the river seems big.  So I decide that taking/giving a free card is better than betting, and I check too.

But YIKES, the river comes another Jack, so now the board is AQQJJ, and B.C. bets right out.  Heads up I would want to call him, but . . . 

Curly most always takes a long time to act, but this time he looks at it, and thinks about it, then looks some more, and thinks some more, forever and a half, then he finally calls.  WTF?

I'm not sure if which one, but I decide that one of these guys must have a Queen or a Jack.  Most likely, I figure, B.C. is bluffing, and Curly has the Jack.  I muck.

I'm at one end of the table and they're at the other, and they both showdown a King, half covering what looks like a rag kicker.  Somebody at that end says "Play the board!" and it looks like a remarkable bet, and equally remarkable call, and looks like I folded the best.

But then the dealer spreads their cards before I can even ask her to, and turns out B.C. and Curly both have King Ten, made straights on the turn, and still split the pot.  Yeow.  Looking back, at their calls on the flop, and the still remarkable bet and call on the river, well, this is what I love so much about Diamond Lil's Party Poker.


Good Business Practices.  Not.

Gunshot Wound to Foot, Self Inflicted.

It's really sad what happened to the 20/40 game last night.  We were down to seven players just after midnight, but they were the right players, and I was loving it just fine.  Then one of them went broke, and went to the cash machine, and that's when things went Deep South.

Diamond Lil's has two machines; one dispenses Ben Franklin, and the other Andrew Jackson.  They don't seem to be owned or serviced by any particular bank or armored company, since you can see DL employees filling them in the mornings.  

I think they impose more than just a nominal fee, and allow withdrawl against debit or credit cards, but am not sure.  I've never used these machines.

Thing is, both machines were EMPTY, so the player who got up saying "Back in a Minute" was back more like immediately, picked up his keys and lighter, tossed the dealer his two remaining $1 chips, and left, disappointed.  And he wasn't the only one.

Then, half an hour later, same thing happened again, with the other totally live player in the game.  He also tried to use the cash machine, but empty is empty, so he picked up and left too.

At that point the game broke, DL stopped dropping $5 every minute or two, the dealer and I both stopped earning, and I went home.  The people who fill the machines were probably already home, sleeping, and the people on duty, floor, security and cashier presumably didn't have access to do a refill.

All that is probably a good thing, since continuing the game might have created unwelcome tax liabilities all the way around. 

And certainly the house didn't need that rake income, since they're doing so well that they've discontinued the Monte Carlo payouts, and frozen the Bad Beat Jackpot meter.  Oh, but they are  still dropping the $2 that funded those things, on top of the $3 rake.  Yeah, I don't get that either.

The Rock

Playing limit holdem, how do you like it when the guy under the gun puts up a blind straddle?  Small blind is $10, big blind is $20, and this gambooler puts in an extra $40 before even seeing his cards.  You like that?

I might not like it so much if I'm already in the small or big blind, but otherwise, and especially if I'm right behind the straddle, I like it just fine.  

So then will I play looser,  and 3 bet with way more hands than if he had seen his cards before he put in that 40?  Well, yeah, sure.

I read somewhere, long ago, that poker betting begins as a battle for the antes, or blinds, and that smaller blinds dictate tighter play, while bigger blinds mean looser play.  Makes sense, doesn't it?

Then I read somewhere else, recently, that we inevitably will lose money with our blind hands, that the best we can do is to play well enough to minimize that loss, and that we knowingly post blinds with that -EV only because it entitles us to be dealt the hands that follow.  That made sense to me too.

And so would I want to put up that straddle myself?  Well, um, no.  But sometimes players want everyone to agree to play a round of straddles, "Because it makes the game better." 

"Better for who?" I ask them.  

"What?  For everyone!" they say, looking at me like I'm an idiot.

Yeah, right.  That's like when Tess finishes dealing a down, stands up, and says "Good Luck, Everyone!"  I keep telling her that's not possible.  She laughs, and smiles back at me, and then she says it again next time.  :-)  

She's just being polite and cheerful, and that's sweet.  But I'm philosophical, and don't accept that a change could possibly be beneficial to everyone's expectation in the game.  No way.  Any structure change will benefit some, and harm others, depending on their strategy, and . . .

Q:  What's my #1 basic strategy to beat these guys?

A:  Play tighter than they do.  This only works because they play too loose!

Q:  What happens when the blinds get bigger (or, for that matter, when the game get shorthanded) ?

A:  The Other Guys' Too-Loose Play becomes LESS wrong, maybe even becomes correct.  There goes my Delta, my basic edge, the very foundation of my game, right out the window.

So when they ask me to agree to a round of straddles, "To liven up the game," I just tell them that they're already plenty wacky enough for me, and no thanks.  Truth is, I don't want to put up -EV blind bets any more than I absolutely have to.  Right?  Doesn't come up very often, anyway.

OK, fine.  But then, a couple months ago, somebody got the guys in the DL 20 game playing with "The Rock."

The Rock is eight red chips, $40, 2 small bets, taped together, to stay together.  It goes in, and plays, like a straddle.  Whoever wins that pot takes it, and keeps it on their stack until they are under the gun before the deal.  Then they they are obligated to put it up, like a straddle, and so it goes.

That looked like a blind straddle to me, and I didn't give it much thought.  My ignorant, knee-jerk reaction was to say "No, thanks!" again, and refuse to play with The Rock.  Well, that was stupid, and also was very poor customer relations, as it pissed off the guys who like The Rock.

Thing is, I'm slow.  Most times I have to go away, and think about something for a while, probably longer than I should need to, before finally reaching a valid conclusion.  

In this case I contemplated it for two weeks before finally realizing that I should have no objection to a Rock, and in fact should probably like it!

Turns out that posting a straddle, and playing with a The Rock, are completely different.  When I sat into a Rock game, the Rock was already there.  Unlike a straddle, I didn't contribute to those 8 chips, and won't get to keep them if I win them.  So where I should go after the extra money in a straddle, the "extra money" when The Rock is out there is just an illusion that I should NOT go after, even when the other guys do.  Hey, welcome back home, basic winning strategy #1.

Turns out also that I shouldn't even consider The Rock when counting bets to figure pot odds.  At least those were my conclusions.  What do you think?  

OK, so I got all that down, felt way better that I wouldn't be killing the game, and went back to DL, all pumped to play with The Rock.  And then, guess what.  Maybe [you saw][I should've seen] this coming?  Seems The Rock caused too many disputes over this and that, and the floor got tired of being called over for what was supposed to be a "Players Agreement," and so DL banned The Rock.

And so, just like high speed Morse Code, and "Advanced" BASIC Programming, now I have yet another obsolete skill that I'll probably never get to use again.  Oh well.