Steve's Poker Blog: The Next Generation

Well, with some sadness I must say farewell to this particular poker blog. I have been absent from it for such a long time that I've forgotten the credentials to log in and update it. It's easy enough for me to hack in, but I find having to do so for each new post is unacceptably frustrating. So I'm migrating my efforts (and the last three posts) to a new blog.

Please follow me to "www.StevesSecondPokerBlog.blogspot.com", and continue to enjoy the finest poker blog on the interwebz! (At least the finest one I contribute to.)

The old content (and blog address) will continue to exist here until doomsday, most likely, so you can continue to pop back from time to time and relive the best moments of those posts.

Adieu!

Peru Poker Trip

In the summer of 2012, we took a two-week vacation in Peru. We have friends who are Peruvian, and they invited us to come back with them. We did all of the touristy things while we were there -- went all over Lima, and then on to Cusco (the Incan capital), but the (literal) high point was Machu Picchu. I blogged about it thoroughly as "Notes" on my Facebook page and posted dozens of pics ("Mucho Machu"), so you can go read it there if you want. And if you're not my Facebook friend, why not? I've been told I sometimes post some funny things.

Lima has a handful of casinos around the city, and a few of them have poker rooms. I of course could not resist checking them out, and so even though I was somewhat hampered by the language barrier I made sure to sit down in a game or two and see what it was like.

First of all, you can forget finding a game that starts any sooner than midnight. The Peruvian currency is called the sol (plural soles, pronounced using two syllables). Each sol was worth, at the time, around 35-40 cents, so we're not talking high stakes.

The players are terrible; there is a good reason why Peru has never produced a championship player. The game plays much more slowly than in Vegas, sometimes as long as five minutes per hand. If you want to check, you say “Paso”. I found this is a bit confusing, because in England if you say “I pass” that means “I fold”. So I was afraid to actually say “paso”; I just tapped the table to check.  “All in” is how you push all-in, although it’s pronounced more like “all een.” “Llamo” is call, which makes sense. A Flush is “Colór”; a Full House is “Full”, pronounced “fool”; and they call Four of a Kind “Pokér”.

There were almost no female poker players to be found. Then again, the conversation around the poker table is of the locker room variety. Very useful for learning Spanish slang, if nothing else.

One of the more notable things about the game there had to do with the rake. In the states, the poker rake is 5% up to a cap of $4-$5 (sometimes more, sometimes less). This, by the way, is probably the single biggest reason why low-limit games are so difficult to beat. The competition at higher limits might be tougher, and you may not win as many big blinds, but the amount of dollars might end up being more because the juice hits a ceiling. In Peru, however, there is no cap on the rake! So even if the pot gets to a thousand soles or more (and it sometimes did), the dealer will pull in a rake of nearly a hundred soles before he pushes the pot.

All in all, I think I'd rather play in Vegas. But the game was very good and definitely lucrative, and I would go again if I had the opportunity. And by the way, one of the Latin America Poker Tour stops takes place in the casino I visited, the "Atlantic City" casino.

Resurrecting the Blog

I had literally forgotten all about this blog. I was (virtually) cleaning out an old laptop, and found some old entries, and well … I guess we’re back in business.

I never really stopped playing poker, although it lightened up significantly after “Black Friday”. Like the death of JFK or the attack of 9/11, if you were a poker player you’ll always remember where you were when you heard about it … I was in Pendleton, playing their Spring Round-up, and in the hallway I overheard some poker luminaries discussing the shut-down (Linda Johnson, Jan Fisher, Susie Isaacs). I wasn’t sure what they were referring to … a temporary outage of some kind? Anyhow, I finally learned the whole tragic story.

So there’s not much online poker anymore, and of course none at all in Washington State since it’s a felony. But as I travel a lot for my day job, and since there are plenty of card rooms across the country, it’s easy to find a game to sit down in. I’ve been playing a lot in L.A. lately, as well as Foxwoods and A.C. on the East Coast. I even checked out Mohegan Sun once, but the games there are very hard and I don’t know that I want to go back.

I’m pretty happy with where my cash game is nowadays. Lately I’ve been trying to sharpen up my tournament game. I played a WPT main event at Borgata last year (made it to Day Two but didn’t cash); a WSOP bracelet event (made it to Day Two but didn’t cash), and of course Pendleton’s Round-Ups (in the last one I cashed in two out of four tournaments, which is an extraordinary accomplishment).

I met a couple of guys at the last Round-Up, Grant and Jonathan, who are poker coaches. Their operation is called the Portland Poker University (pdxpkr.com). I went ahead and hired Grant – the tournament expert – and my tourney game has gotten a lot better just in the few weeks since then. I knew that my successful cash-game style was too tight to work in tournaments, but I wasn’t sure how to loosen up. Grant has shown me how and where to do that, and we’ve also worked on overall hand-reading (which is very helpful). He’s a terrific instructor and the investment is already paying off.

Portland does have poker rooms, which I never realized before. Actually, they’re more like private clubs. You buy a membership ($5/day or so) and play all the tournament poker you can stand. During my on-site visits with Grant, we’ve been playing some of them. Last weekend, cousin Dave and I played a tourney at a club called “Aces”. I finished in the money (sixth out of 80 or so players), and there’s no doubt at all that my results have improved because of the coaching. For example, here’s one hand that tells the story:

It was very early in the tournament, before antes kicked in. Blinds were something like 200/400, and we all had deep stacks of over 50,000. I was in the big blind. Action folded all the way to the button, who limped. The small blind completed. I looked down at QQ and decided to pop it … made it 1300 to call. The button called, and the SB folded.

The flop came nine-high with two diamonds, and so I continuation-bet around 1600. The button put in a giant re-raise to 5000. This was such an odd move, that I had to stop and think about it for a while.

I gave some serious thought to just folding. There wasn’t much in the pot, and I didn’t want to risk losing a lot of chips so early in the tourney. But I tried to figure out what hands could be ahead of me right now.

First of all, my opponent was a really good player. I could tell that just from watching the action at our table. He’d seen me continuation-bet a lot of flops and clearly knew that I’d stolen a lot of pots holding nothing. He probably thought I was doing it again … he can’t have known just how strong my hand was. It was a good move, if that’s what he was doing.

But what could he have that beats me? AA or KK would probably have raised pre-flop, rather than just called the button. A flopped set or two pair probably would have raised less on the flop, or even just called, to keep me in. I couldn’t put him on a flush draw either. Frankly, his raise showed me that he didn’t want me to stick around. The best hand I could put him on was something like A9 – top pair, top kicker. But even that might be an overestimation. (This is the kind of thinking that Grant has been encouraging in my game.)

I called that flop bet, and he was visibly displeased. Since the pot was big enough to satisfy me, the turn and river went check/check, and when I showed my unimproved Queens he mucked disgustedly.

I won another big pot from this same player later in the game, which ended up tilting him beyond any possibility of repair. Again, he was the button and I was the big blind. He raised preflop with AA, and I called with KQ offsuit. The flop was King-high, so I check/called his bet. Turn was a rag, so I check/called again. I actually thought I might have the best hand. The river was another King, which pretty much took away any doubt. I put out a very big value bet, he made a crying call, and when I showed my hand he literally bolted from the table and ran out the back exit. He lost over half of his stack to me on that hand. He did come back to the table – walking through the front door, so he’d literally stomped all the way around the building – but he didn’t last much longer, given his dark mood.

I have some poker trips coming up, and some tournament play planned, so we’ll see if I can keep this blog updated a bit more regularly.

A really bad session, at least to start with ...

I played a session last night that was truly brutal. In short order, I went through over $100 in some pretty tough beats. Here are the details.

I sat down at the $2/$5 no-limit game in the cutoff, posted by big blind, and got dealt in. I picked up the Ace/Spades, King/Diamonds … not bad for my first hand! It was folded all the way around to me, and since I was new to the table, I just checked my option. The small blind called, the big blind checked, and we went to the flop.

The flop was Ten/Spades, Jack/Spades, Ten/Hearts. I’d seen better flops overall, but I did have a gutshot straight draw and two overcards. The blinds checked; I bet $8 into the $15 pot and got only one caller (the small blind).

The turn was the Deuce/Spades, so now I had a flush draw to go along with the straight draw and overcards. But I didn’t have any read on my opponent, so when he checked to me I just checked behind. 

The river was the Nine/Spades, so now I had the nut flush. But for some reason, I felt really uneasy about the hand. If my opponent held Jack/Ten or Ten/Nine, I was dead. He overbet $40 into the $30 pot; since there were so many other hands out there that I could beat (a lower flush, a straight, trips) I went ahead and called. Sure enough, my opponent held the Jack/Hearts, Ten/Diamonds for a flopped boat … I’d been drawing dead practically the entire hand. All I could do was silently congratulate myself for not having lost more.

A bit later, I picked up Six/Clubs, Six/Diamonds in the big blind. The player to my left called the $5 blind, everybody else folded, I checked, and we were heads-up to the flop. King/Clubs, Five/Spades, Seven/Diamonds flopped. A King was very much a possible holding for my opponent, so I checked to see what he would do. He min-bet $5 which I thought was rather odd. I went ahead and called.

The turn brought the Ace/Clubs, another scare card, as my opponent could have an Ace if he didn’t have a King. I checked again, and he checked behind. I was starting to realize that I might just have the best hand. 

The river was the worst card possible: Six/Spades. It gave me a set, and no flush was possible. I put out a pot-sized bet of $20, and was immediately raised another $20. That’s when I figured out that my opponent could have rivered a straight. I paid it off, and sure enough, he rolled over the Nine/Spades, Eight/Spades for the straight. So between those two hands, I was down around $50.

Could it get any worse? Of course! Some time later, I picked up Ace/Clubs, Jack/Hearts in the cutoff. I’ve blogged before about how much I hate this hand, but when it was folded around to me I figured that I just had to play it. I raised the bet to $15, and got only one caller – the small blind, a really loose cannon who could be playing with any two cards.

The flop was Deuce/Diamonds, Deuce/Hearts, King/Clubs. My opponent checked. Sometimes I will continuation bet and sometimes I won’t; this time I didn’t, because I figured that my opponent would call whatever I bet, and with such a rotten hand, why bother?

The turn hit me nicely; the Ace/Hearts. I bet $20, which was around two-thirds the size of the pot. My opponent called.

The river was the Nine/Hearts. Now, my opponent woke up and put out a $40 bet. Had he hit the runner-runner flush? Floated a flopped set of deuces? Or did he have a lower two pair, or a raggedy Ace for a split pot? Naturally, I had to call. Naturally, he had the Six/Hearts, Four/Hearts for the rivered flush. Say buh-bye to another $60-some dollars; now I’m down over $100.

Even though I’d hit some of the toughest beats I possible could (although I probably could have played these hands a little better), I stuck with the game, and believe it or not … by the time my session was done, I was actually winner for the night!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I went to the World Series again this year at the Rio; I actually spent about two weeks out there. I have to say, the cash games during the Series are not what they used to be. Maybe it’s because I was out there so late in the Series; but at times it was actually tough to find a game. I ended up having to head over to Caesar’s or Bellagio just to get some action. Quite a disappointment. On the other hand, I did final-table one of the Venetian Deepstack events, which was pretty nice. Also did well in a Binion’s Poker Classic tourney downtown. Here’s a list of the poker rooms I visited while I was out in Vegas this month, in no particular order: Rio, Orleans, Venetian, Mirage, Caesar’s Palace, Flamingo, O’Sheas, Excalibur, Hard Rock, MGM Grand, Bellagio, Aria, Binion’s, Golden Nugget.

Spring Poker Round-up

I spent last week in the tiny little town of Pendleton, Oregon; playing the Spring Poker Round-Up at the Wildhorse Casino. I've said before how much I enjoy this tournament, and how it is probably the premier tournament series in the entire Northwest.

This time around, I hardly played at all in the cash games. Instead, I entered four no-limit tournaments and cashed in one of them. It was a lot of fun, and I played some really great poker. One player who I had knocked out earlier in one of the tournaments stayed at the rail and watched me play until I busted (in the money), and when I did he came over to me and told me he thought I'd played really great poker. He said he didn't see me make even one mistake the whole time he was watching me. That made me feel pretty good!

On Saturday was the "Main Event", which had a $500 buy-in. I played really great poker in this tournament; knocked out five players (two in one hand) and, uncharacteristically for me, spent almost the entire tournament with a bigger-than-average stack.

The only hands I'm going to post are the two that knocked me out of the tournament. Actually, it was the same hand both times, pocket Queens.

The first time, I was at a table with WSOP bracelet holder Susie Isaacs. She had one of the short stacks at the table, and when it was folded to her in late position she pushed all-in. I was on the button with QQ, raised all-in to isolate her, and it was heads up. She had pocket Jacks, flopped a third, and took roughly half of my stack in the double-up.

It's probably worth noting here that I've played at Susie Isaacs' table three times in tournaments, and there's no question in my mind that she is the meanest, nastiest player I've ever played against. Every time she's said something to me, it's been with a sneer on her face and a snarl in her voice. Once, when I asked the dealer for clarification on a rule, she interrupted him and said "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard in my entire life." I have no idea what I could possibly have done to her that's made her so angry with me; maybe I remind her of somebody else. But she's one cranky witch.

My last hand came about ten hands later. I was in the small blind, and when it was folded to me I went all-in with pocket Queens. I was called by the big blind with pocket Kings, and lacking Susie's skill at sucking out, I ended out out and on the rail.

Speaking of Suckout Susie ... for many years, the Wildhorse had a poker hostess with that nickname. Her real name was Michelle Bylinga, and she was extremely gracious and friendly to everybody she met. She was particularly known for her elegant, flowing outfits and floppy, outlandish hats. Sadly, Michelle died unexpectedly in February. She was missed by everybody at the tournament and it was very sad to hear about her passing. Rest In Peace, Suckout Susie.

One of my best sessions ever!

I've just returned from a long weekend in Las Vegas. The trip wasn't really poker-related -- I was in town on other business. I did have the opportunity to play some poker, but I wasn't really in a poker mindset. Consequently, I stuck to the $1/$2 NL games (substantially lower than what I usually play), and played at some really small rooms on the mid-strip such as Imperial Palace, Harrah's, and Planet Hollywood.

I did have one truly extraordinary session at the Flamingo that's worth noting. I won more per hour and per big blind than I think I ever have before, and it was really two key hands that made it happen.

The instant I sat down at the table, with $300 in chips, I was dealt Ace/Jack offsuit. I was in late position (there was no blind posting for new players), and when it was folded to me I opened with a raise to $7. The only caller was the big blind, so it was heads-up to the flop.

The flop came Ace, Jack, Nine, so I had flopped two pair. My opponent checked, I bet about $20. It was an overbet to chase away the straight draws (there was no flush draw on the board). He raised me to around $75. Since I had just sat down on the table, I had no read on him. I was hoping he just had an Ace, although I suppose a set of nines was possible. But how can you get away from top two pair? I re-raised to $150, and he four-bet me all-in. I called. He had Ace/Nine, a lower two pair. The board bricked, and after one hand I had doubled up.

My very next hand was pocket Aces. I raised to $7 again and everybody folded, so I won $3 on that one.

The second key hand came near the end of the session. I was dealt the Ace/King of Clubs, again in late position. So beautiful! A loose kid on my right raised to $13 pre-flop. I called, as did the button, so it was three to the flop.

Ace, Queen, Nine rainbow came on the flop, so I had top pair with top kicker. The kid on my right checked, and I put out a bet of around $50 -- again, chasing away the straight drawers. The button called, the pre-flop raiser folded, and I was heads-up. I was hoping my opponent didn't have Ace/Queen! Maybe Ace with a worse kicker. Maybe even a straight draw paying a bad price. Regardless, even if I was ahead I would have to dodge possibly two cards that might pair my opponent.

The river was the Six of Diamonds. I thought, well, if I was ahead already, I probably still am. I bet $100, and my opponent just called again.

The turn was the Deuce of Spades. I put my opponent all-in -- around another $100 or so (I was the huge chip leader at the table had him, and everyone else, covered). He called. I rolled over my pair of Aces, surely losers at this point. He bellowed, "Nice River!" and showed his Queen/Five offsuit. Queen/Five!! He stomped away as the dealer pushed the pot to me. I turned to the guy next to me and said, "Nice river? What does he mean by that? The river didn't affect either of our hands." He said, "Well, that's just what losers say when they call off all their chips like that." I still think it's a weird thing to say in that circumstance.

Playing the Role of “Table Bully”

In poker, the “table bully” is the guy (or, sometimes, girl) who seems to be controlling all of the action. Frequently loose, always aggressive, he’ll come barreling into pot after pot, tossing fistfuls of chips into the middle on every street and winning the hand more by bluster than via showdown. I’m very rarely the “table bully” in the games I’m in, and there are several reasons for that:

First of all, I’m not loose enough. At nearly every table I sit down on, I’m the tightest one there. If there happens to be anybody tighter than me, I watch out for them and proceed very carefully whenever they are in a pot. I’m actually far more afraid of the tight players than I am the bullies.

Secondly, I’m not good enough. I don’t really know how to be the bully. There are plenty of players who fit that role naturally, and I’m not one of them.

That’s not to say I can’t be the table bully, or that I never have been. It’s happened from time to time, and when it does, it’s extremely satisfying.

I haven’t been playing very much poker lately, so I wasn’t sure what to expect when I sat down at a $2/$5 no-limit table. I soon realized that the player to my left was really loose; entering a lot of pots and staying in them for too long. This kind of player will show a lot of variability in his results. By that, I mean he will win or (usually) lose a lot of money in a single session.

I’d much rather have a player like that on my right than on my left, but I can adapt. In this sort of situation, I just play tight and bet perhaps a bit more meekly than usual; my loose opponent will frequently raise my bet or bet for me if I check, so I can lean back and just let him run the action for me, and rake the chips when the hand is done and I show the better holding.

The pivotal hand of the session came several circuits after I had sat down. A couple of folks had stepped away from the table, so there were only seven players, and I was on the button. Given these two facts, I gave myself permission to play a bit looser than usual.

The first two players folded, and the next one min-raised to $10. This player had been making that kind of play a lot since I sat down, so I was neither impressed nor intimidated by this. The next player folded, and then it was to me. I had some suited connectors (8§ 10§), and only a small bet to call, so I called. Both blinds also called, generating a $40 pot.

The flop could hardly have been better: 10© Kª 8ª. So I had bottom two pair; but the board was seriously draw-heavy. Given this fact, I wanted to chase out as many players as possible; or at least make them pay to play further.

The first player – the loose guy on my left – led out with a $15 bet. The next two players folded, and when it came to me, I raised to $60. When my opponent called, I put him on a draw at best, or perhaps (less likely) a King for top pair.

The next hand was the 5©, a really great card for me. It didn’t fill any draw, and made me believe in my hand more strongly. I felt even better when my loose opponent checked. I bet a good-sized $120 into the $160 pot, knowing full well that my drawing opponent would call regardless of the terrible pot odds I was laying him. He quickly called the bet.

The final card was the Q§. This filled a few straight draws, and when my opponent checked again, I checked behind, realizing that he could only call any bet I made if he had me beat. He showed the 10ª 4ª for a flush draw and flopped middle pair, and I dragged in a pot of nearly $400.

From that point on, I started to push people around, just like a table bully should. An example of this came later in the session. The min-raising player from the earlier hand was under the gun, and min-raised from there. The next two players folded, and I looked down at 10ª 10§, a very playable hand under the circumstances. I called the raise; the player in the cutoff called; and the three of us went to the flop.

It came down Kª 2§ 2©; not great but not horrible. When the first player checked, I decided to take a chance. I bet $20 into the $40 pot, and my opponents immediately folded. Obviously, neither of them had either a King or a Deuce, but it was probably my reputation most of all that got them to fold.

Another hand showed this even better. I was in the big blind with Q© 9¨. An early player called the $5 bet; everybody else folded, and I checked, so it was heads-up to the flop.

The J© 7ª 8© came out. Not a great flop for me. A ten would complete my straight, but aside from that all I had was a Queen-high. I checked. My opponent bet $8 into the $12 pot.

Now, 99 times out of 100, I would have folded right here. It is undeniably the best move. But today I was the table bully. I enjoyed the fact that players were afraid of me, and I wanted to maintain that dynamic. I decided to call, and see what happened on the next street.

The next card was the 5©. I decided to bet the pot here (around $30), as if my heart draw had come in. If I got called, I still had outs. If I was raised, I could release my hand here (or re-raise if I sensed weakness).

My opponent went into the tank for awhile. He asked me questions about what I had (“Did your flush draw come in?”). I tried to look completely uninterested and thought about dead cats. Eventually, he folded.

It wasn’t a big pot, or a terribly significant hand. But it did show how my image was intimidating players, and I think it landed me some extra chips that I probably wouldn’t have gotten otherwise.

Why Do People Play This Way?

Sometimes I really don’t understand why some people play the way that they do. I’m willing to accept that their play conforms to some standard of logic that I’m just not aware of. But then again, sometimes I just have to wonder.

I was at a $2/$5 no-limit table and was the chip leader after playing really tight and beating the table up with good hands. I was in the small blind with A§5©; not a great hand but good enough for a call. The cutoff called the big blind; I completed; and with the big blind the three of us went to the flop.

The flop hit Q§Qª7©. A complete miss for my hand. I lost interest in it and checked; but then the other two players checked behind me.

The flop put out the 7§. I doubted at this point that either player had either a Queen or a Seven, so I decided to bluff with the (likely) best hand; my Ace kicker, that is. I put out a tiny min-bet of $5. The big blind folded, but the cutoff called.

Here’s where things got funky. The river was the Q¨, putting a Full House – Queens full of Sevens – on the board. So unless I (or my opponent) had either a Queen or a pocket pair of Sevens or higher, we were obviously going to split the pot. At least, I thought it was obvious.

Just to be goofy, I put out a tiny $10 bet. My opponent insta-folded so fast it blew me away. I raked in the $25 pot, completely unable to figure out why he wouldn’t call my post-oak bluff. I guess I should just be happy that there are some players like that out there!

Sort of in spite of myself, I’ve been watching this TV show on the G4 network called “2M2MM” or “Two Months/Two Million”, about a foursome of 20-something poker pals who rent a house in Vegas and try to make $2 Million in two months’ time. Overall, the guys are pretty dorky and nerdy, but it’s fun seeing them goof around while winning (or losing) six figure sums each week.

Back To Detroit

Move over Rancho Mirage; I think Greektown has become my new favorite casino.

I played in the tournament with a $75 buy-in. By Detroit standards, that would be a high-roller tournament. In fact, only 26 players showed up to play, counting me. I played a grand total of three hands over a two-and-a-half-hour period, and finished in ninth place. They only paid the top three. The structure was dreadful, with several levels that doubled the previous level (i.e. 50/100 went straight to 100/200). This makes it more of a luck-fest than a poker game.

My first hand came in the third level. By that point, three people had already gone out, one during the first level. That’s just incomprehensible to me. Regardless, I took Ace/King to showdown and beat my opponents Ace/Four to double-up (the board had two Aces on it, so my kicker played).

My second hand was a Jack/Ten. I flopped top pair, bet, and took the pot.

My final hand was pocket sevens. By this point we’d all combined to one table. I went all-in preflop (the first into the pot) and was called in two spots, by a King high and by a Jack high. A King and a Jack both flopped, so the Kings took us both out. Even though I finished out of the money, I played spectacularly well and not at all disappointed.

I made my way over to the cash games. The $1/$2 no-limit was the only NL they were spreading, although they had a $3/$6 limit game going too. The buy-in at the $1/$2 table was $50-$200, and most people were buying in for just $50. The crowd at the Detroit casinos is so different from anyplace else. One player was complaining because they had just cut off his phone service. There were a lot of discussions about lottery tickets. One guy said, “I’d played the same numbers every week for years. The one time I didn’t play last week, they hit. I woulda won $75,000. I couldn’t even sleep that night.” Another two players got into an argument over which of the Jackson brothers was the very first lead singer of the Jackson Five – Jermaine or Michael. Being a Jackson Five fan, I already knew the answer (they both were lead singers at the start and traded lead on different songs). But I kept my mouth shut and just raked in the chips. The players were so appallingly bad. I made a decent amount of money; actually a shocking amount of money given the fact that this was only a $1/$2 table and folks were losing their stacks at only $50 at a time. The only reason I left is because the table finally broke up – too many players lost all their money and had to leave. But I am sure that I’ll be back.

Visiting Former Hometowns, Chapter Two

I was in Kansas City last week, another burg I used to call home. After wrapping up my business, I decided to check out the Harrah’s out that way. I don’t recall having ever been there before (as in Detroit, the casinos were all built after I moved away) but I probably have been. I know I’d never played poker there, though.

I started out at the cash games ($1/$2 no limit), but between felting the other players and them just up and leaving, I soon found myself with only three opponents. I’d rather play Bridge than Poker when it gets that short-handed (and I don’t even know how to play Bridge), so the table just broke up.

Serendipitously, a $30 buy-in tournament was starting to get underway, so I bought into that and decided to play some tournament poker for a while. Fifty-three other rounders had the same idea.

Long story short – I finished in second place, which put me in a terrific mood. It was good for $294, so not a bad payday for four hours’ work.

There weren’t really any big hands that stood out; I just played pretty tight and let the cards come. I won more than my fair share of coin-flips, but my theory is you need to in order to win anyhow. There are a couple of hands I played really terrible though, so I’ll post those. Maybe I’ll even learn from them.

In the first hand, I was the table’s chip leader by a wide margin. I’d just taken out two players with AA, and I was still stacking the rewards when the next hand got dealt. A spankin’ new player had just sat down to my right, and was under the gun. He had a medium-sized stack. He glanced at his hand immediately went all-in.

I looked at my hand: JJ. For some reason, I thought about what I should do! The answer of course, is you muck immediately. But I was on a big high from just winning a huge pot and taking the chip lead. I didn’t know the player who just sat down, and couldn’t get a read on him. He was older than me (maybe in his 60’s), so if anything that should have cautioned me that he probably wasn’t a maniac. But like a fool, I decided to re-raise all-in myself, to isolate him.

Naturally, the rest of the table folded. Naturally, my opponent had AA. And naturally, he won, as he deserved to. My stack was so big at that time that it barely made a dent, but gee what a stupid way to play Jacks, when the under-the-gun player goes all in!

The second hand was against the player who was probably the best in the tournament (counting me as well). I was in the big blind; he was in early position and doubled the bet. It folded around to me; I had King Ten so I decided to play.

The flop came King Eight Deuce. I decided to go for the check-raise. I checked; my opponent bet, I raised a big amount, and he re-raised all-in. He had me covered, but just barely (we were the two big stacks at the table). I should add that this guy was playing really tight and I had a lot of respect for his game. Nevertheless, like a doofus I called his all-in, and put my tournament life at stake with top pair.

Naturally, he had flopped top two pair (Kings and Eights). Fourth street bricked, but I rivered my three-outer and handed him a terrible beat. His chip stack was crushed, and he was completely ticked off. He walked away from the table (ostensibly out of everybody’s earshot) and swore up a blue streak. I couldn’t really blame him either. As a sign of just how good a player he was, he nursed his micro-stack back up to a decent level and ended up going out third, just before I did.

Overall, the room (and the tournament) was a lot of fun. Since it was the Midwest, everybody was really friendly and nice. I had the final table in stitches with goofy jokes and silly behavior. When it got to heads up, the dealer could hardly shuffle because he was laughing so hard. By the way, the last hand (for the record) was my 44 against the Villain’s Jack-rag. A Jack flopped, and that was that.

A new poker show has made it to TV, “Face The Ace” featuring Full Tilt’s stable of champions and bracelet winners. I’ve only seen the first episode, but I thought it showed promise. The amateurs won every round, but only because they got hit with the deck each time. The host (some guy from The Sopranos) was pretty decent; Ali Nejad is also in the house but fortunately is subdued. The chatter at the table is probably the best part of it all. Erick Lindgren in particular gets an A+ in trying to keep the show interesting. Sadly, the show came in dead last in its timeslot. We’ll have to see whether it can find an audience. Here’s hoping!

Back In The Saddle: The Greektown Casino

It’s been almost two months since I played any poker. I don’t think I’ve had that long of a hiatus from poker since I started playing three or four years ago! What’s kept me from the table has been a seriously intense amount of work from my real job, at least mostly. But I finally had the chance to visit a card room and learn whether or not I could still play.

I found myself in Detroit last week, and decided to check out the Greektown Casino. I had only visited it one time before, right after it was built (which was right after I moved out, having called the Detroit area “home” for about seven years).

For those of us who remember the “old” Greektown – pre-casino, that is – what they’ve done with that neighborhood is a bit … jarring. I recall shopping in that little brick mall with quirky, crooked bridges connecting the different sides. Well, that mall is now the casino. Except for a handful of restaurants on the first floor (some of which are vacant), it’s entirely given over to that evil vice.

I can’t say it’s not an improvement, however. The “old” Greektown was more than a bit tattered at the edges. It was desperately trying to recapture its glorious reputation the way an over-the-hill call girl tries to deny the ravages of time by applying too much makeup. So spicing the neighborhood up with a casino has definitely been a shot in the arm.

The cardroom had two hold-em games being spread amongst the five or so tables; a $3/$6 limit game and a $1/$2 no-limit game. The no-limit game had a buy-in of between $50 and $200. Given the sad state of the Detroit economy, it shouldn’t surprise you to learn that most folks were buying in for the minimum.

The players were atrocious. Some of them made me wonder whether they’d ever played poker before. I’ve been at some easy rooms before (Harrah’s flagship in Las Vegas and Agua Caliente in Rancho Mirage come to mind), but this one beat them all. It was one of those sessions where you don’t dare bluff; just value-bet your good hands and fold everything else. I ended up doubling up during my two hours there.

I didn’t play very many hands, and only one hand actually stands out, although it played itself so posting it won’t give you any idea about whether I am a good player or not.

I was on the button. Three or four players limped in from early and mid position, which was happening quite a lot. A player two to my right bumped it up to $10. He had a short stack – but then, nearly all of them had short stacks. I looked down at A©A§ and min-raised it to $20.

The player to my left, the small-blind, was a maniac, splashing around in just about every pot and intimidating the entire table (except me, since I wasn’t in too many hands). He was also the only guy at the table who had me out-chipped. He looked at his hand, grabbed a stack of red chips and re-raised it to $100. Given his range, he could have had pretty much anything and just been trying to make a move on the pot, with all that dead money lying out there. I was thrilled about his re-raise; it made it more likely that the rest of the table would fold out, and I could go head-up with the maniac.

Indeed, the table did fold, until it got to the initial raiser. He only had around $50 left in total, so he called the re-raise and was all-in.

I had about $150 in front of me, so I re-raised all-in myself. I think he realized at this point he’d been squeezed, but facing only a $50 re-raised on a pot with around $300 in it, he pretty much had to call, so he did.

He showed the Q©Qª. The initial raiser inexplicably showed J§6§. In fact, I actually said, “I think I like your hand the best,” pointing to the suited Jack.

The maniac shouted, “Give me a Queen!” He got his wish, as a Q¨ came on the flop. But unfortunately, it was accompanied by a Aª and a 2ª.

The turn was the K§. At this point, the suited Jack actually had a better chance of winning the hand than the Queens did; the Queens had only a single out, but the other hand could river a straight with any of the four tens.

However, the river ended up being the 2¨, and my Aces full defeated the Queens full. The guy with the suited Jack left the table; the guy with the Queens was completely steaming but continued to play for a while longer. Me; I just stacked up my chips and went on to the next hand.

A Very Odd Poker Session

This post will probably be somewhat longish, as I intend to comment on an entire Poker session I had recently. It was a very unusual session; the kind of session that can only happen in no-limit hold-em. Posting this kind of stuff is very helpful to me, particularly when I go back and look at it later.

Before I get to that, I should confess that I’ve made peace with the fact that I won’t be able to get back to the World Series this year. I suppose that’s the trade-off for having a real job. And the fact that I’ve never been busier is probably a good thing, particularly in this economy.

There are two more tournaments coming up that I probably won’t make it to either. The Summer Poker Roundup in Pendleton is the weekend of 7/18; that’s definitely out for me. And there’s a tournament in Reno called the Pot Of Gold at the end of July (at the Grand Sierra). I might still make it to that one for a tournament or two, but I’m not counting on it.

Now, let’s play some poker. There’s a $2/$5 table waiting for us.

The context for this session is as follows: I’d played a bit of poker lately, but not very much. And I’ve been on something of a losing streak too. Whenever that happens to me, I study my play very closely to see why: Is it just bad cards, or is it bad play? Sometimes it’s one; sometimes the other. But when I see full house over full house, or AQ (me) versus AA (villain) on a board with an Ace and a Queen, it’s a bit comforting to see that it’s more likely to be bad cards. If I can continue to just play my game and have confidence I should bring it back.

Meanwhile, as I evaluate the session I’m going to post below, I have to give myself a grade of D+ or maybe C-. Pretty pathetic, as you will see.

Hand #1 of 5: I’m under-the-gun, and see Q© 7ª. Now, as I’ve blogged about before, I have started to mix up my pre-flop play a little bit. I’m worried that I’ve become too predictable, so every sixth time I open-raise, I do so with whatever hand I manage to pick up. And this was one of those times, so I put $15 into the pot.

The key to this kind of crazy Gus Hansen style is to immediately surrender if there is any resistance, or if the flop doesn’t give you anything better than a pair. Since I’ve started this strategy, I’ve been really pleased with the results. Most of the time, my opponents will fold without a fight (there’s the benefit of a tight image). Occasionally, they will play back at me, and I’ll let it go. But overall, it has been a smallish money maker.

The problem here is that this particular hand has come on the heels of a couple of really decent starting hands for me – AA and QQ to be precise. And since everybody’s folded pre-flop, I haven’t been able to show down my tightness. So it looks like I’ve just been stealing blinds from middle/early position. Consequently, this time around, I got three callers: The cutoff, the button, and the small blind. This didn’t bother me; actually, I thought it was pretty cool to see such a nice, big pot getting built up. If I flopped anything decent, nobody would have any idea.

So with $65 in the pot, the flop came 7§ 2¨ Q§. Now, this is probably the most perfect flop imaginable for my garbage hand! I have top two pair, and doubtless a stranglehold on the pot.

The small blind checked, and since I didn’t like seeing the flush draw on the board, I put out a big bet of $50. This would be enough to chase out any draws. My only caller was the small blind, and so with $165 in my pot (I mean THE pot), we went to the turn.

A raggy 10ª came out. The small blind checked again. Still worried about the flush draw, I put out a bet of $120 into a $165 pot, and my opponent quickly called. Now the pot was over $400, and I was really starting to wonder what the other guy had.

The river was the A§, and suddenly my opponent came alive and bet about $325 into the $400 pot, enough to put me all in. I sat for a minute and thought about what hands he could have:

· A flush draw that came in: Not possible; nobody would chase the bad pot odds I was offering from the start.

· A straight draw that hit: Even less likely. It would require him to play exactly King-Jack and call all the way to the end.

· A set, or a higher two pair (such as Aces up). Possible; but if that was the case then I am supposed to lose anyway. I’ve frequently been able to fold to a set, but I wasn’t going to this time.

· A pair of Aces, a lower pair, or some other kind of garbage. I actually thought this described his hand and betting history most closely. So I called.

He turned over the 8§ 9§ for a rivered flush, and I lost my entire $500 buy-in (plus a few more chips I’d won along the way). The lesson here is that not every player is good enough to lay down draws when they’re getting too high a price to chase. I obviously should have folded on the river and saved my last $320 dollars.

While he raked in what used to be “my” pot of over $1000, I pulled out some more Franklins and bought back in. *sigh*

Hand #2 of 5: I’m in the big blind. A young, way-too-loose player two off the button limps, the rest of the table folds to me, and I check with the 5§ 10ª. There’s $12 in the pot.

The flop was sweet: 5© 5ª 3ª. I check, planning to check-raise my uber-aggressive opponent after whatever continuation bet he doubtless puts out. Much to my surprise (and mild consternation), he checks.

The turn is the 2©. Since nobody else was going to bet my hand, I put $5 out. I didn’t like all the draws on the board. Without much delay, my opponent called.

The river was the Jª, so the spade flush draw had arrived. I value bet $10. My opponent raised to $45. I actually thought I had the best hand; my loose opponent was very unbelievable, and my read of his body language made me think he was uncomfortable with the situation. I called and showed my set; he tabled the 8¨ 2§ for two pair, and I snagged the $100+ pot.

I totally don’t understand limping from early position with Eight/Deuce offsuit. He was behind from the start, and drawing almost completely dead from the flop on.

Hand #3 of 5: (This hand I played SO BAD!) The same loose player from the last hand is now under-the-gun, and limps for $5. It’s folded all the way to me in the small blind. I have a gorgeous hand; the A¨ K¨. I just complete the bet, intending to outplay my opponents post-flop. The big blind checks, and with $15 in the pot we take it to the flop.

9© 8§ K©. With top pair top kicker, I make a pot-sized bet of $15. The big blind folds, and the other player calls. I got him!

The turn is the K§. I check with my trips, to let my opponent catch up. If he bets, I’m probably check-raising to protect against the flush. However, he just checks behind.

The river is the 8ª, so now I have the nut full house. I value-bet $40, almost the size of the pot. I’m hoping it looks like a bluff. My opponent raises to $155! What is up?

The only hand that beats me is if my opponent has exactly 8¨ 8©. But if he had that, wouldn’t he have bet more on the earlier streets? He filled up on the turn … and checked? It’s much more likely that he had the last king, and we were splitting the pot. Nevertheless, I was convinced that there were monsters under the bed, so rather than giving myself the chance to double up (he had me covered), I meekly call. I really think that earlier hand – Hand #1 – made me a bit gun-shy. He had J§ 10© for a missed straight draw, and I disgustedly pull in a $350-ish pot. I congratulate myself on winning the smallest amount of money possible. My opponent eventually busts out and leaves a few hands later; those chips should have been mine too.

Hand #4 of 5: Another pathetically-played hand. In middle position, I open-raise to $15 with Q©Q§. My only caller is the small blind, a player I hadn’t seen before. The two of us take the $35 pot to the flop.

9¨ Aª J¨. The small blind checks. Some players (including occasionally me) will bet out with the underpair on a board like this to see “where they’re at”. I figure in this case, I can learn the same by just checking and taking Fourth Street. That’s what I do after the small blind checks.

The turn is 2ª. The small blind bets $10. I’m pretty much certain he doesn’t have an Ace here, and that my Queens are best. But I just (inexplicably) call, rather than value-raise.

The river is the 5©. Now my opponent bets $35 into the $40+ pot. I can’t imagine how that card helped him; he’s got to have a busted draw. But again, meekly, I just call. He shows the 5¨ 5ª for a rivered set and ownership of the $120 pot; I’m so disgusted that I just muck. I played this hand so passively that I deserved to lose it.

Hand #5 of 5: In middle position, I pick up AªKª. I resolve to play this hand more aggressively than I’ve been playing up to this point. My raise to $15 yields only one caller, the button. By this point I’ve worked my stack up to almost $700; still under my two $500 buy-ins (the first of which I donked off in the first hand I have listed). My opponent has me covered with over $850 in chips.

The flop comes K§ 5¨ 6©, so I have top pair and top kicker. Having promised myself to play this hand fast, I see no reason to change my mind, so I bet $20 into the $30-ish pot. My opponent calls.

The turn is the A¨, now I have top two pair. There’s around $70 in the pot. I bet $60 (I told you I was going to play fast!) and my opponent snap-calls.

The river, oh beautiful river, A©. I have the totally nut hand, Aces full of Kings. No quads possible, and no higher full house. I pot-bet $200. My opponent min-raises me to $400. Calling would leave me with less than $200 behind, so I go ahead and put it all in. He calls and proudly shows his A§ 8§. He is stunned to learn that this $1300 pot is going to me instead.

Whenever I am involved in a big pot like this (and sometimes when I am not), I go back and study it carefully to see what I can learn. In this case, I am completely baffled as to why he played this hand like this. The only thing I can think of is that he must have thought I was tilting from the previous hands I’d been playing. So, he decided to push with a moderate hand. Seriously! The only Ace he beats is Ace/Seven, Ace/Four, Ace/Three, or Ace/Deuce; he either chops or loses to any other Ace. And would I have bet so fiercely without an Ace? Even a flopped set fills up and beats him. Baffling.

I didn’t stay at the table much longer, and ended up logging a $300 win for the night which, frankly, I didn’t deserve. But I’ll take it.

Defending My Blind

If you've read much of my blog, you know that I am not a fan of trying to defend the blinds, for the most part at least. If I'm in the blind with garbage, and the action folds to a late player who raises to steal with garbage of his own, I'm perfectly fine letting him have my blind. Usually. I figure that I can win it back later, either from him or from some other player, with my ordinary tight game.

But just for fun (and something different), I decided to defend with a hand lately, and it worked out pretty well.

At a $2/$5 game, action folded to the cutoff, who raised to $15. The button folded. I was in the small blind with Ace of Hearts, Jack of Clubs. Believe it or not, I will frequently fold this hand from just about any position if there's action. It's such a trouble hand. But I decided to play it this time. I called the raise; the big blind folded, and we went to the flop.

The flop came Jack of Spades, Queen of Diamonds, Seven of Spades. Based on my read of my opponent, I felt that I probably had the best hand, with middle pair. (He'd need to have a Queen or a higher pair to be safe ... or a flopped set). I checked, intending to call whatever got bet.

He put out $25, and I called.

The turn was the Ten of Clubs. There were plenty of draws out there, but I was still optimistic. I checked again; he bet $55 and I smooth-called. I could tell he was a bit nervous about the fact that I was still playing along.

The river was a brick -- the Three of Hearts -- and I sprang my trap. I bet $90, basically bluffing with the best hand. He folded quite quickly. I don't know what he had, probably nothing or close to nothing. I had about $185 in the way of a decent-sized pot. So defending my blind actually worked out here.

World Series of Poker 2009

I’m just back from the WSOP (although I’m still hoping that I can make it back there before it ends…).  I entered Event #4, the $1000 buy-in Hold-em tourney.  Over 6000 people played, which is the largest field ever for a non Main-Event WSOP tournament.  I made it through 80% of the field, which is better than my Main Event performance last year, but once again I finished just out of the money, a bit of a disappointment overall.

I don’t really have much of a structured message with this particular blog entry, so let me just share some random things that happened while I was there over this long weekend.

·         I stayed at the Rio (I’ve stayed there several times before).  They were charging $40/night which is appallingly low.  They must truly be desperate for business.

·         I rented a car, drove it to the Rio … and ended up not using it again until I drove back to the airport.  I thought for sure I would be taking a couple of trips to the Strip or downtown, but I never left the Rio the whole time.

·         Even though I didn’t make it to any other poker rooms like I expected to, I did talk to a lot of other players about what the local scene was like.  It’s pretty sad.  Apparently the only room with much activity is at the Venetian.  The Bellagio crowd has been so sparse that they’ve started to spread lower limits just to get people to come into the room.  And at Caesars, they hired a new manager late last year who has jacked the rake up to $7/pot.  Seven dollars!!  Who would ever play in a game like that?  I was particularly sad to hear about that, because I’ve always enjoyed the poker room in Caesars.

·         It was almost exactly a ½-mile walk from my hotel room to the Amazon Room, where all the poker was being played.  I walked back and forth two or three times each day.  Who knew poker could be so physically demanding!

·         I learned that “Gamma-O” is the official testosterone supplement of the WSOP.  Hmm.  If there is any group of guys less likely to suffer from testosterone deficiency than poker players, I don’t know who it would be.  (Although somebody I was talking to about this made the serious and cogent point that the WSOP didn’t have much sponsorship of any kind – where is Apple, he wondered?  What about Expedia or Travelocity?  Good question.)

·         Almost nobody at any table was wearing a wedding ring.  At first glance, this seemed a bit odd.  But thinking about it further, I realized it wasn’t.  After all, what kind of woman is going to marry a poker degenerate?  One kid at the table said that his girlfriend broke up with him via text message at 2am – while he was playing poker.  Somebody asked him if he left the game to go try to fix things.  He said, “No, it was a really good game!”  We all nodded with complete understanding.

·         I bought a copy of the book Check-Raising The Devil by Mike Matusow, personally signed by the author.  He wrote “Steve: Best of Luck.  Mike Matusow.”  Cool.

·         I bumped into one of the home game regulars at the Poker House, Brandon, at a cash game.  It was pretty cool to see him there, and ironic to actually bump into him.  I learned that he had also gone to Pendleton last spring, but I didn’t see him there.

·         I tried out a fascinating new meta-game strategy with incredible success:  Go to bed at, say, 10pm.  (For an old guy like me, that’s not a challenge.)  Set your alarm for 2am.  When it goes off, wake up, don’t do anything to clean yourself up, and go down to the cash games for about four hours.  Everybody else at the table will be drunk or tired or otherwise off their game.  At 6am (or whenever the game finally breaks up), go back to bed and sleep until 10 or noon or whatever.  What a great piece of advice!  I made more in those four hours of play each day than I did in twelve hours of daytime play.

·         I folded pocket Kings preflop against pocket Aces.  Seriously!  I got dealt the Kings under the gun in a $2/$5 game, raised to $20, and got one caller.  When the action got to the cutoff seat (a guy who was really, really tight), he immediately popped it to $100.  My jaw just dropped open.  I literally turned and stared at the guy.  I sat and thought about it for maybe two minutes, which for me is an eternity.  Then I said, “Wow, I am the biggest donkey that ever played poker,” and I folded my Kings, face down.  The other player mucked immediately, and the cutoff tabled his Aces face up.  I said, “Wow, you wouldn’t believe what I just folded.”  He said, “What, Jacks?”  I said, “No, Kings.”  He said, “You’re right, I don’t believe that.”  Nobody at the table did, they just laughed like I was making a sick joke.  I was in shock for quite a while after that.

·         This last has nothing to do with poker, but it did happen during the trip.  Walking through the airport on the way back to Seattle, an announcement was made over the intercom at a decibel volume slightly higher than that of an air-raid siren:  “ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS!!  IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY, PLEASE DIAL NINE ONE ONE FROM ANY TELEPHONE!!  THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION!!”  Huh?  Could any piece of noise pollution possibly be less obvious?

 

Anyhow, back to reality, for the time being at least.  I am still hoping to make it back to Vegas before the end of the series.