Yes, nightmare story to follow, but first, for balance, a tale of victory and triumph. Late night full 20/40 limit hold em game at Diamond Lil’s. Eight Pacific Rim ESL guys, and me.
Seats 1, 2 & 3 are Mikey, Smilin’ John, then me, followed by six misc. chasers, whiners, and suck-out artists. Mikey folds UTG, John open raises, and I 3-bet with pocket Fives.
Inside the Poker Mind, by Dr. John Feeney, a 2+2 book from 2000, has a section on "Bad Plays Good Players Make,” and the first one he discusses is: “Overuse of the small pair isolation play.”
He talks about pocket sixes and below, cautions about re-raising very selectively, only when the situation is just right, and says that “...it is crucial that you have a very high probability of isolating the raiser.”
And I agree with all that, too, and in this case did NOT have that high probability to isolate. But damn, against these guys? Not sure how or why it happens, but at Diamond Lil’s it turns out that I have a table image, and reputation, appreciably better than I actually deserve. I know, right? Hard to believe! Especially if you know me, and what a dingaling I really am.
But it’s true. Where Rodney Dangerfield got no respect, Sgt. Rock gets too much respect. Not sure why, but I’m not complaining. No, I just try to exploit it, maybe a little, now and then. Like this time: it just felt right. Button, Small Blind and John call.
Flop comes AK9, all Diamonds. Blind checks, John bets, and I don’t even know — or much care — if I have a Diamond or not. I Raise.
I’m thinking that there’s already a little dead money from the Big Blind in this already getting-big pot, and if I can get lucky, and can fold one — or hopefully both — of the players behind me, and get John heads up, well, won’t that be way better? Yeah.
I rarely need to check back after the flop. I usually check back one time before the flop, verify what we got down there, and I’m good. But this time, small pair, I didn’t think suit was gonna matter. Bzzzzzt, wrong answer. Now I’m just hoping the two guys behind me have overcards, no big diamond, and I can get them out right now and NOT let them still be there to catch anything on the turn.
And, dang, this time I get lucky, and that’s just what happened. They both fold. More dead money. Equity advantage.
Turns out John has AK! He flopped two pair, but is afraid of the diamonds. So rather than protect his hand, he just calls. Thank You! I’m checking back and see that I DO have a diamond, just as the turn hits. It’s a blank. I bet again, and John, top two, could easily have raised me out right there, but he just calls. I wonder if I’m gonna need another diamond, or a miracle 5, to suck out here.
Jack of Diamonds on the river, check, check, then John and Mikey both go half nuts with disbelief when I turn over my 55 baby flush to beat his Aces and Kings. It really bothers them to know that I was behind, but betting and raising, while he was ahead, and just calling. And it should, too. :-)
It’s fun to write about that hand, where I got lucky and took the chips. It’s not so much fun to write about hands like this next one. But I don't want to forget the hand, or the situation. And so, painful as it is, I want to make a record of it. Next time this comes up, I want to not be so stupid.
SS; DD. This was a few weeks ago; before Thanksgiving. It's like 2 a.m., I'm in seat 8, big blind, with Ms. T on my right in the small blind. Steve open-raises from seat 2, Ms. T 3 bets him, and I call with 67 spades.
OK, maybe that’s Stupid #1 right there. But these two been making those kinds of raises and re-raises with pretty much any damn thing, and if I do make something, I can expect to get paid off more than I should. At least that’s my thinking, or rationalization.
If I do make something. Heh. Flop comes 8, 9, 10, two diamonds, and we go three bets again.
Turn is a blank black deuce. Ms. T check-raises me, then caps it. Steve is in there calling everything, too. WTF? By now I’m worried T may actually have me beat, with Queen Jack, and maybe calling her cap on the turn was Stupid #2?
Anyway, I'm watching her, not the board, when the river hits. Long pause. She doesn't like it. Finally, she checks, and I look. 9 of diamonds makes the flush, and pairs the board too. Shit. I check too. Steve bets.
T shows and throws her Queen Jack, off the table and onto the floor, and if you know her, well, that’s not unusual. Nobody says anything, even though house rules require that the deck now be replaced.
Meanwhile, I have to stop and think. Could Steve have been calling all those raises with just a 9? I mean, at this point, trip 9s is about the only hand he could bet, and that my low end straight could beat, right? 42 bets or so in this pot, and I really hate to, but I fold.
So Steve doesn’t have to show, but he does anyway: Ten Eight. Flopped two pair, rivered a slightly better two pair, and dumbass Sarge just GIVES him the pot, without thinking nearly hard enough about what Steve could have had all along, that he’d bet now, and that I could still beat, and, for those odds, should pay off. Didn’t even consider that 10-8, or maybe Jack-9. Sure, T had me beat, but she threw away, and my brain went into vapor lock and let me down. Damn.
Meanwhile, I have to stop and think. Could Steve have been calling all those raises with just a 9? I mean, at this point, trip 9s is about the only hand he could bet, and that my low end straight could beat, right? 42 bets or so in this pot, and I really hate to, but I fold.
So Steve doesn’t have to show, but he does anyway: Ten Eight. Flopped two pair, rivered a slightly better two pair, and dumbass Sarge just GIVES him the pot, without thinking nearly hard enough about what Steve could have had all along, that he’d bet now, and that I could still beat, and, for those odds, should pay off. Didn’t even consider that 10-8, or maybe Jack-9. Sure, T had me beat, but she threw away, and my brain went into vapor lock and let me down. Damn.
Felt pretty bad about that hand for ten days or so, but Thanksgiving weekend changed my mood a bunch. Came in after the turkey dinner, played an all-nighter, and it was my best score this year. Then back two nights later, another good score, plus a table share when KKKK beat TTTT and they hit the jackpot at 5am. Overall, a *real good* weekend.
$938.57 per inch
I’m opening a male enhancement clinic, and that’s what I’ll be charging. Flat rate.
No, wait, just kidding; that’s not what this is about. It’s about our beloved smartphones, and how they’ve taken over our lives. My first really smart one was the HTC EVO, a couple years ago. Loved her, too, until we took a surprise swim together, at the Commerce, on Friday, July 13. I dried out OK, but she was never the same.
I wanted to replace her with the Samsung Galaxy Note. I’m with Sprint, for the unlimited data, and the 25% off the service plan, that they give my company. But they didn’t have the Note in August, so I settled for the Galaxy S3. Android Jelly Bean on a dual core. HD Super Amoled under Gorilla Glass. 32GB memory. Heaven.
Then a few weeks ago I see this Sprint commercial on the bigscreen at DL, for the Galaxy Note TWO! Damn, I must have that phone. Called them the next day. Sure, available right now, but you just got hundreds off the S3, new contract, so eligible for nothing, no break, no discount. Full price: $650.
Gulp. Must have. Big bucks. (Former) World Class Cheapskate. Tech Junkie. What to do? Ah, WTF, it’s only money, and I go for it, and upgrade from the 4.8 inch S3 to the 5.5 inch Note II. And that 0.7 inch screen growth comes out to $938.57 per inch.
Gulp. Must have. Big bucks. (Former) World Class Cheapskate. Tech Junkie. What to do? Ah, WTF, it’s only money, and I go for it, and upgrade from the 4.8 inch S3 to the 5.5 inch Note II. And that 0.7 inch screen growth comes out to $938.57 per inch.
But it’s not just size that matters. :-) Back in 2008 I got all excited to be able to go to Fry’s and buy the CPU, motherboard, disks, memory, case, etc., and build myself a couple Quad Core desktop PCs. Now I have a Quad Core freakin’ phone that thinks it’s a tablet. I just love my awesome Note II Phablet.
And like I said, these electronic leashes have indeed taken over our lives. Well, certainly mine, and looks like half the guys and girls I play poker with, too. They all got their face buried into some game with moving dots, or letters, or cards, or are posting to Facebook, or texting some booty-call bimbo, or if not just surfing the web, then they’re watching Netflix, Hulu, or YouTube.
One woman I know relentlessly searched YouTube and the web, and found, and watched, every mob performance of, possible variant of, or takeoff on, PSY’s GangNam Style. And there are thousands. How you gonna pay attention to the game with all that distraction?
One woman I know relentlessly searched YouTube and the web, and found, and watched, every mob performance of, possible variant of, or takeoff on, PSY’s GangNam Style. And there are thousands. How you gonna pay attention to the game with all that distraction?
Now I’m not denying how incredibly convenient it is that, upon rising, our first two most compelling activities can now be performed simultaneously. Of course I refer to sitting on the john, and checking Facebook. And doesn’t everyone?
And now I hold more computing power in my hand than my desktop PCs had just a few years ago. It’s remarkable, and I love it. I'm even looking at putting my Note II into the Samsung cradle that supports USB and HDMI cable to a big screen, plus Bluetooth keyboard and mouse, and see how much everyday desktop PC functionality that will give me.
But I'm also thinking about all this technology, and the rapid cultural and societal changes it brings. How will all that play out over time? I think we already know that internet privacy is a joke. When I visit tvguide.com to view tonight's listings, it shows me adverts for the products I shopped yesterday, at Amazon, and elsewhere. And I had to laugh when my Google account on my phone evaluated my movements, and started showing me this all the time:
