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. 

Conflict of Interest

For the last six years, and unless out of town, I've played exclusively at Diamond Lil's.  My driveway to their parking lot is under 3 miles, and it's the only daily 20/40 game this side of California or Nevada, so why go anywhere else?

All those years, there have always been at least two prominent signs posted in the room, telling us:

English Only

At And Around Gaming Tables

At All Times

Then, several times, various floorpersons have explained that the rule really only applies when a hand is in progress.  Ok, fine.  Whatever.

I can't begin to count how many thousand times I've heard that rule violated, nor how many hundred times I've heard dealers, or occasionally another player, tell someone "English Only!"  

But I can easily count how many times I've seen the violators, repeat offenders all, face any kind of consequence:  Exactly Zero.   They simply get warned, again and again.  Then again.  And again.

I personally am not too worried about non-English conversation during play at DL.  Maybe I am annoyed some, by their arrogance, when players ignore the rule.  After all, it is a very good rule, imposed for a very good reason, that we all understand.

But 97.84% of the time, they're not talking about the hand in progress anyway.  They're just talking about what's for dinner, or last night's booty call, or the big Karaoke party coming up next weekend, or maybe even what a dick Sgt. Rock is, and let's get him.  You know, something completely innocent.

So I don't sweat the small stuff, except, well, there still is one problem.  Like I tell them at Bellagio, and at Commerce:  "Look, I really don't care what language you guys wanna talk, but let's play by the rules anyway, because IT MAKES THE TOURISTS NERVOUS!"

See, here's the thing:  There are lots of wannabe 20/40 players in Seattle — I've heard this from more than a few of them —  who might like to come play at DL, and make these great games even better, except for the room's reputation.  Deserved or not, there is a widespread perception that Lil's is full of team players, and is a good place to be taken off by collusion.

And yeah, a couple players may make some lame, ill-conceived attempts at hanky panky now and then, but, like I said, for me it's not really a problem.  If were, then my six year result there couldn't be what it is. 

But still, "English Only" truly is a complete joke at DL.  Then, last week, came word that some person(s) had complained to the state gambling commission, that the rule will now be strictly enforced, and that anyone having to be warned twice will be barred for 24 hours.

Here's where the Conflict of Interest comes into play, same as it always has.  First line of defense for enforcing "English Only" is the house dealer who is in there working for tokes.  And she knows how much these players will resent being told that they can't converse with their buddy in their native tongue, even when they already know the rules.  Remember, these are the same giants of intellect and logic who personally blame her when a river card completes some other guy's ugly suckout, and beats them.  So don't expect them to be reasonable.

And now, if someone needs to be reminded a second time, she's supposed to call the floorman, who pretty much also works for tokes, and the player gets sent home?  Yeah, right. 

So far, with this "strict new enforcement" of the rule, we have seen just as much non-English as ever, slightly more frequent and stern warnings from a few dealers, and zero instances of floorman summoned or any hammer descending.  Long story short:  No change.

I have suggestion for fixing this problem, but it would never fly.  I would take the burden for enforcing this rule off the dealer's shoulders, and give it to the other players.

Specifically, I would propose that if non-English is spoken by, or to, a player with a live hand, then any other player with a live hand can have the dealer call the floor, who would KILL the offending player's hand.  That's right, break the rule during play, and your hand is dead.

Hard to prove?  They already have video surveillance, cameras in the ceiling, so why not audio surveillance, microphones in the table rim?  OK, I never said this idea was practical, but it is viable, at least in theory, and it certainly would be effective. Don't think we'd see very many repeat offenders.  I mean, after a guy's hand was killed a time or two, that *should* get his attention, even when a thousand warnings didn't, and I think he'd respect the rule just fine after that. 

Atlanta Braves

Do you have some online accounts with security, like banking, email, or shopping, that use logon name and password, but then they also have you give answers to some “secret security questions?”   You know, like a pet’s or girlfriend’s name, or the street you grew up on, favorite high school teacher, or TV show, whatever.  


One account I have asked me a cute one:  “Name the sports team you love to see lose.”  Seriously, that was their question.  Lol.


I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating— —  The only sport I’m really into is: Co-Ed Wrestling.


But some years ago, when stationed at Ft. Knox, Kentucky, Mrs. Rock & I were actually genuine baseball fans.  We lived on the base in family housing, about a mile from the gold depository, in a two story end-unit townhouse, plus full basement, in case of tornados.  Seriously.  We also had cheap cable TV, with HBO, and stations from LA, Toronto, Atlanta, New York, Chicago, Cincinnati, etc, etc., plus ESPN, and the networks.


Well, we were big Dodger fans back then, and watched lots and lots of games.  This was in the days of Steve Garvey, Steve Sax, Steve Howe :-), Mike Scioscia, Dusty Baker, Ron Cey, and of course our hero, the man, Fernando Valenzuela.  Later, Orel Hershiser was a hero, too.


And it sure irritated me to see the Dodger’s big rival, the Atlanta Braves, call themselves “America’s Team” on the Turner Station, Channel 17.  Some nerve.  I’m in America, and they’re not my team, so WTF?  Therefore, although I must admit they were a pretty damn good team back then, I liked to see the Braves lose, even it if wasn’t the Dodgers beating them.  

And so that was my "secret" answer on [I’m not saying what site]:  Atlanta Braves.


Well don’t we all have our own “Atlanta Braves” at the poker table?  You and I both want to win, want to beat the other guys, sure, but aren’t there a couple guys you *really* like to beat?  Or maybe guys you just *really* like to see lose, even if it’s not you that beats them?  


Like, for instance, Lenny Whiner, from Florida, playing 40/80 at Bellagio during WSOP the last three years running.  Actually I’m just guessing at that last name, but here’s a guy that, well, I don’t know, it just makes me smile inside when somebody sucks out on him and he gets all steamed up and acts like a baby.


Then there was TWA (Tall White Asshole) in the 40 game at Commerce last July, a curly hair guy we’ve seen several times, Vegas and LA, along with his hot (?) GF with the inked neck.  He was teasing and torturing the dealer by mucking as far away from her as possible, making her reach, then next time more or less throwing the cards at her, and  asking “How’s that?  Any better?”  So did he get on my Atlanta Braves list, and become someone I will like to see lose?  Sure.


But then it turns out that, sometimes, I’m the other guy’s Atlanta Braves!  Lenny, for example, doesn’t speak to me, pretty much ignores me.  But he sure will smirk when he sees me take a beat.  

And here’s something a little hard to admit, kind of puzzling, but looking at it objectively, well, it's true:  Here at Diamond Lil’s, if you polled all the regular 20/40 players, most of them wouldn’t name anyone in particular as being their Atlanta Braves.  

But it used to be, for those who did, I think the name given most often would have been:  Sarge.  I know, right?  I couldn’t believe it either!  I never dissed anyone, don’t get ugly or arrogant, don't gloat when I win, and sure as hell don’t deride bad play when they suck out on me!

But there was this small clique in the DL 20 game, all guys from [redacted],  who pretty much didn't speak to me, and would openly discuss how much they wanted me to get beat, even to the point of occasionally “cooperating” with each other by whipsaw raising a little when I’m caught between them.  Those moves tended to backfire on them more often than not, so I didn’t really mind too much.  :-) But for sure, I was their Atlanta Braves.


The good news is that there's been a big thaw in all that. Seems like NOT taking the bait, and NOT getting into arguments, ever, and being excruciatingly polite if there's a dispute and I'm involved, and remembering to STFU if I'm NOT involved . . . all that paid off. I just treated them all with courtesy, and a little respect, even when it was a one-way street. Eventually, then, it becomes, grudgingly perhaps, a two-way street. Well, in most cases. Sadly, not all. But I'm working on those too. I still wonder what I did to get on these guys’ shit list.  Misbehave?  Hardly.  Insult, disparage, or otherwise disrespect anyone?  Never happen.  

The Theory of Relativity

Imagine if the best college baseball team in the state went up against a typical little league team from your town.  College boys gonna kick ass, right?  

Now imagine that same college team versus the N.Y. Yankees.  Whose ass gets kicked now?


So when you ask if a particular guy is a “good, winning poker player," it’s kind of like asking if those college boys are a good team.  The answer has to be:  “Compared to who?” It's relative.

On a good day in the DL 20/40, I feel like a college team, up against mostly little leaguers. On a bad day, in Vegas or LA, I feel like I ran into MLB. And for my Bellagio WSOP side action trips in 2010 & 2011, I had lots of bad days.

The problem? Both times, my performance was exceptionally poor for that single most important component of a winning poker strategy: Game Selection. Ego, over-confidence, and the adrenaline rush of "Hey, this is Vegas!" combined to help me find the courage to sit into games five times bigger than I play at home, and to completely blow off, and ignore, how they were also way tougher. Sure, there were a couple ding-dongs here and there, now and then, but mostly VERY tough guys in those games.

So I was outclassed, and I knew it, and yet I played anyway, and both times blew in a couple weeks the BR I had built up over a year at home. Doing that once is bad enough, but that I did it twice, two consecutive years, is, well, I don't know the word. Pathetic?

So last year, for our WSOP 2012 Vegas trip, I played only the 40/80 side action, 23 straight days, then went on to Commerce for another 10 days of 40/80, and this time didn't blow the year's BR, although neither did I grow it much. Then we came on home, and finished the year playing at DL.

Seems reasonable to me, and you've probably heard this too, that a good pro, in a game like the DL 20/40, should win something like 1 big bet per hour, that a VERY good pro might win 1.5 BBPH, and that a long term win of 2 BBPH in pretty much any limit hold game would be, well, exceptional.

Now that I'm turning pro, I need to know which of those categories I fit into, right? So I was planning to go back to keeping detailed session records, starting May 1. And since then I did play at DL every single day, but I got lazy, and didn't keep track after all. And that's a real shame, too, because if I had, then I could know just exactly how many dollars per hour I've lost so far this month.

Situational Awareness

Sometimes the situation, or the "Personality of the Game," makes you want to play a hand differently than you normally might. An extreme example that comes to mind for me was about a year ago, when I cold called a preflop raise, in the cutoff, with Queen Jack offsuit. Never did that before or since, but in that particular exceptional situation, the most *dysfunctional family pot you ever did see, I just had to do it.  

( * like a Wheel of Fortune "Before and After")

Last night another exceptional situation came up, but I spaced and didn't recognize it quite quickly enough. UTG open-raises, and I'm right behind him with pocket fours. Just as I'm releasing my hand, I can see at least two guys behind me gonna just call the raise. And the Personality of THIS Game, with these particular guys, was multi-way, 5, 6, 7 guys seeing every flop, most often for just one raise. I remembered all that a split second too late, and thought to myself, "Damn, coulda, woulda, shoulda made an exceptional call this time!"

Then, when the flop came J 4 4, I was sure of it. :-(

- - -

More posts in draft, coming soon, now that I have time. Can I get some comments? I live for comments. Thanks.

Retired & Triple Dippin'

I retired from the Army late in 1986, and started with Boeing early the next year.  For the first 5 years I was a consultant/contractor, and wore a grey badge. 

Back then I used to wear my hair
 on the top of my head.
Since then I've had to move it
down to my chin.

Then in '92 I hired on direct, and got a white badge.  Last Tuesday, April 30, was my last day on that payroll, and I had to surrender that badge.  Then May 1, between Boeing and SSI, began my second and third retirements.  All these years, I expected that SSI would be the smallest of the three, but it turns out to be the biggest.  Go figure.

Another retirement surprise was an epiphany that hit me out of nowhere, last Friday.  Did not see this coming; never anticipated this paradigm-shift, this new way of looking at things, a whole new attitude.  At my point in life you spend some time thinking about resource allocation — income versus living expenses, and longevity expectation compared to adequate savings.

All those years working for a paycheck, I always thought I should try to hold back some of that income, for eventual retirement, and for rainy-day emergencies.  If those paychecks were to stop coming in, for whatever reason, I still had a family to provide for.

Unfortunately, in the early years, I didn't make much, so could hardly save anything, even when I knew I should.  When our first kid was born, I was a Sergeant E5, base pay $383.70 per month.

Fortunately, in the middle and later years, we did a little better, and were able to save a little.

Thing is, the other day I suddenly realized that my long time "gotta save some" mentality doesn't make sense any more!  Save for retirement?  This it it!  We're there.  Rainy-day fund?  For what?  I'm not going to get laid off from my pensions, and don't have to show up at the office, or make any effort, or even get out of bed.  Even (especially) if I were disabled, the entitlements would continue.

So I had to smile when it dawned on me that, when retiring on a set income like this, you might as well just go ahead and spend it all, and live the best lifestyle that income will support.  I mean, why not?  Seriously, if you can give a reason why not, please comment.

Also, all those years working for a nice paycheck, playing poker on the side, and having fun with it, I was always thinking that, once I retired, and the paychecks stopped, I'd kind of being playing poker on "scared money."  I think we all know that's never good.   But, you know, I wouldn't have the job any more to back me up if I lose my ass in the game.   That worried me some, and I used to joke that, once I retired, I'd have to play better.

And here again, now I realize that's not a problem either.  Worst Case:  I'll be that pathetic guy you see at Diamond Lil's around midnight on the last day of the month, sitting at Table 11, the dead-spread near the cash machines, watching the clock, and trying the machine every little while to see if my monthly entitlements hit the bank yet, so I can get a buy-in.

OK, so then my only remaining problem was kind of a feeling of emptiness, maybe a lack of purpose,  when I gave up the badge, left the campus, and drove home on that last day.  Sure, I'm excited about starting this new chapter of life.  Freedom to do whatever, whenever.  But that's just it—  do what, exactly?   People at work and at DL kept asking me, like, "What are you going to do now?" and I could only mumble some lame and meaningless answers, because, well, I didn't really know.

Ah, but then when I got home, and we took a walk around the neighborhood, inspiration struck.  We have 3 grandkids, and the oldest starts college this Fall.  How cool will it be, I wondered, if he can casually tell his classmates, like, "Yeah, my Grandpa plays poker to pay my tuition."  I mean, just the thought of how incredibly impressed (if not jealous) that should make them just gives me goosebumps, because, well, like Fast Eddie Felson (Paul Newman) says, in The Color of Money:  

      "Money won is twice as sweet as money earned."

So that's my new game plan:  Play lots of poker, and win enough to put 3 grandkids thru college, one at a time.

So after that very short last day at work — was outta there by 9:45 AM — I got to DL mid afternoon, for my first session as a "Professional Poker Player."   OK, that may be a bit of a stretch, but if you loosely define it as someone who does not have a J-O-B, then I just might qualify. :-)

Right away, first hand, I got stupid, got lucky, and took a big pot when I had no business being there.  Pocket Sevens in the big blind and I get trapped for 3 more bets, but seven way action, so nothing wrong with that.  Yet.  Flop it or drop it, right?  Well, no. 

Flop comes J96 rainbow, the original preflop UTG open-raiser on my left bets it, and when it gets back around to me it's two bets, with 38 bets in the pot, and a few more to go in when the players behind me call.  So I call two cold.  Considering future bets if it does hit, just about good enough odds to chase spiking a 7 on the turn, right?  

No, wrong.  Faulty, bogus thinking; a rationalization.  There is no reason at all to think the guys behind me will just call.  Probably way more likely they gonna put in another raise or two.  And of course they do; it comes back around to me capped again, and I put in two more to see the turn.  Bad play!

The good news is how my 23-to-1 against longshot came in, a seven did hit the turn, I check-raised and got in several more bets there, and a couple more on the river, and stacked lots of chips.

The bad news is how, bottom line, in the play of this hand, I put in way too many chips when the Cost, Chance and Payback (with that escalating Cost!) spelled Negative Expectation.  Sure, I got lucky and won the pot, and from a results-oriented loser's viewpoint, that's good.  But didn't we just say a minute ago that I need to play better now?   This wasn't it.  

Making calls like that all the time will lose money, period.  Fortunately, that kind of trap situation doesn't come up too often, and I hope I usually play them better than I did this time.

Diamond Lil's $20/40 Hold Em is still solid, two games most every day, 'cept three games most Friday nights.  And the seven-way action capped preflop that I describe above is not at all unusual.  Action games, chasers galore, straddles, suckouts and slowrolls, bizarre play aplenty, dealers cursed, cards thrown, short stack, all-in, re-buy, short buy, NEW SETUP!  

But a funny thing is how little real acrimony we see in these games.  Certainly less than at, say, Commerce, or even Bellagio.  Most of the DL players are regulars, and know one another all too well.  Sometimes the loser might actually get mad, but more often they will laugh, and taunt, and fist-bump the other guy when they beat each other.  In other words, most of the time, it stays light, with players cracking jokes, and lots of (friendly) trash talk.

An exception the last few days, though, was Misanthrope Marty.  Here's a smart and experienced guy, but a World Class Whiner, goes on and on and on about how the guy who just beat him is the worst player on Earth, and how could the dealer bring that river card, and how could she call me on that flop, and can't believe I lost that hand, and did I mention that this goes on and on and on?  After a while nobody is really listening any more, but the whine continues anyway.  God Bless my noise-cancelling headphones.

- - - 

I don't always drink beer, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis

Have you seen those commercials, featuring The "Most Interesting Man in The World?"  The voiceover one liners are killer.  There's a new one out, with:

  -  In a previous life, he was himself.

  -  If opportunity knocks, and he's not home, opportunity waits.

  -  He gave his father "The Talk."

Several collections of the older ones are out there on the web, and a good one is here.

Yet Another Nightmare Laydown

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.

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.

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?

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: