As I've experienced more success with tournament Texas Hold'em, quite a few friends and others have asked how they might become successful poker players. How did you do it, they ask. Because, after all, I'm filthy rich and famous and grace multiple TV networks with my mug. And I'm not just struggling to keep my total winnings high than my buy-ins. Really...I swear. Okay, you got me. Perhaps I'm only barely keeping my head above water, but I'm making money, if not yet a living.
And there's the rub. A successful poker player is not defined as only the player that makes hundreds of thousands of dollars or more. With the vast majority of players losing money, poker success probably is best defined as actually making money, whether one dollar or one million. My path toward relative success follows, and while I recommend ignoring it completely, it is my story.
The Twinstalker Way
1. Remember how you were born to play poker. Selective memory plays a big part of getting started in the poker world, as well as justifying your poker playing to your mom and/or girlfriend. Everybody remembers constantly beating your relatives at "guts" or "in-between" or "baseball." The losses fade from memory, and the wins stand out. As do the compliments from Aunt Marion about how good of poker player you were. He's such a good little player, Barbara, you must be so proud.
2. Play the game. After learning how to play your favorite game, in my case no-limit Texas Hold'em, forget studying strategy and just dive right in. I decided to get an online account and started losing right away. It's fixed, after all.
3. Determine that the only thing that matters is your gut feel. When to bet, when to call, when to check...it's all a gut feel.
4. Learn the game. After excessive losing and having your wins packaged with chat room derision from your online competitor's, it might be time to learn how to play the game with a little. I went out and found a Phil Gordon book that explained the game to me at a very high level. It was the first time I'd learned the relative value of starting hands and heard of pot odds and implied odds. Awesome, I can use my math major.
5. Find a live game. I found this a great way to leave the internet derision behind and receive live chiding and denigration from a number of living, breathing, poker players. My wild-ass, non-strategic betting confused people enough to make my new cash game a winning proposition. At this point, I started to implement my new understanding of "odds" and proceeded to lose $800 on a Monday, $800 on a Thursday, and nearly my life on the Friday when the game was, um, interrupted. I didn't like cash games, really, so at this time I decided to switch to live tournaments, my favorite poker genre.
6. Realize it's not bad luck you're experiencing. This is actually the one piece of advice I give to anyone who asks. I started playing live tournaments in the fall of 2008, my improvement at it has been steady, and one aspect has stood out for me. Almost every tournament you play in, you lose. I won somewhere between five and eight live tournaments in 2009, probably twice the rate someone would expect to win if all players were equal, but it still meant that I lost 95% of the time.
The first time I lost, somebody told me I experienced a bad beat. I thought about it for a moment. Yeah, but what was I doing risking all my chips when I didn't have to. It occurred to me that I made a mistake by allowing someone to get lucky and knock me out. From that time on, I took note of the mistakes I made and realized that I could trace every loss back to those mistakes. Instead of attributing losses to bad beats or claiming to be card-dead, I learned from my mistakes and tended not to make them the next time. This led to much-improved play, better results, and, eventually, gruding recognition from my peers that I've made the transition from dangerous donkey to pretty good poker player.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
How to Lose $1100 in Thirty Minutes
Saturday was the poker celebration of the one year anniversary of Running Aces, and the casino hosted an $1100 event that drew seventy-three buy-ins. My success recently had me pretty confident I'd contend for what I assumed would be close to a $20k first prize. Add to that my intent to improve my third-place standing in the Deep Stack Player of the Year Standings, the winner of which wins a place in the 2010 WSOP Main Event, and I surrendered the entry fee without blinking.
There are a couple strategies to choose from for the start of a big tournament like this (deep stack, 20,000 starting chips). Either play extremely tightly and hope for monster hands or push the pace and create a loose table image to use to trap people. I decided to let the table help determine which I would choose. As I walked to my starting table, I noticed a lot of the better players from Canterbury were there, as expected. I started on a table I knew would be broken quickly, and given that, I should have abandoned the second strategy--a table image would have been of little use.
I sat in the 10 seat and during the first orbit noticed the table's very tight play. I let play go round again and then woke up in the cut-off with pocket 7s, all folding before me. The big blind I knew well as a loose player and calling machine with decent hands...someone I'd seen get very lucky when sticking in hands. Not a bad player, but definitely a known quantity. I bet 3x the BB (3 x $100), fold, fold, and the big blind called as expected.
The flop came A, K, T rainbow. My 7s were likely beat, but since I was possibly representing an Ace, I needed to bet if given the chance. The big blind checked, and I bet 500 into the 700 pot. BB called. He had something, either a pair or a draw. I was pretty sure he didn't have an ace. The turn was a 6. He checked again, and I fired 1000. He called. He had a pair. The river was a 3.
This was where I made my first mistake. BB checked, and I realized I probably had him if I bet enough. At the same time, if I bet too much, he was likely to see my bluff. The main problem came with the player himself. If he had a king, he would call almost anything in the normal range, thinking he might be good. Most players wouldn't. Too big a bet on my part depicted a bluff. I was stuck. I decided to cut my losses and check as well. He had a king. So what should I have done? I should have checked the turn and saved myself 1000. I was down to 17,500 instead of 18,500. Every chip is valuable, even early, even in a deep stack.
Next time around on the button, I looked down at A5s with one limp before me. I raised to 400 (4x), and the limper called. An ace flopped, and I played it carefully, but the limper showed pocket aces. I felt lucky to be left with a 16,000 chip stack. Eight hands later, I woke up in the big blind with AQ and called the cut-off's 3x raise. An ace came again on the flop, I check called the flop and turn, and checked down the flush scare card on the river. My opponent again had pocket aces, and I was left now with 11,800.
This was not how I had anticipated the day would go.
A few hands later I called a raise with ATs, not my normal play. My opponent checked the J, T, 5 flop, so I bet 1200, which he called. If he had a jack or an overpair, he likely would have bet. I put him on AK or AQ, or possibly a pair under the Ten. Worst case scenario would be his checking a made set, but I figured I just couldn't keep running into monster hands, and if so, then so be it. The turn came Ten and gave me three of a kind. Only a made set on the flop could beat me, and so after his check I bet $2200. He called. I now decided he slow played a big pocket pair after the flop or had played poorly the whole way with KQ. Either way, I was good. The river came K, he checked, and I bet $2800. My opponent then went all-in.
Was he just plain stupid with AK and now thought he was good with Kings? Not likely. My KQ scenario was not likely, either. His all-in indicated he was good. What else could I beat? I could beat KJ, but I didn't think it was likely he would raise pre-flop or that he would check the flop. There really wasn't anything else beside another pocket aces or pocket queens I could beat. I realized he had either stupidly stayed in with AQ and now had caught a straight or had slowed played a set turned full house, in which case it just wasn't my day.
I just couldn't put him on a made hand prior to his check raise, and I figured if he were playing it stupidly, he could just as well think two pair was good as he could bet a straight. I called with my last 5000, and he showed Broadway.
It was pretty much the ugliest, worst-luck sequence of poker I remember playing, and it happened on an $1100 buy-in event. To top it off, I took my last $200 to the blackjack table, grew it to $700, and lost it all systematically with $25 bets over the course of another forty minutes. I never play blackjack...
I have no idea who won, and after a tourney like that, I figured I would ask after taking off a few days! My play was not good, and that happens every once in a while. Focus and discipline were not there for me. I could have continued to play and wait for a big hand with the 5000 chips I instead donated at the end. I could have saved 1000 on the first hand I played, and I could have folded my A5. All these actions were simple plays a rookie might make, and when I start making those mistakes in a tournament, it's time to take some days off. I'll likely play Wednesday again after three days rest.
There are a couple strategies to choose from for the start of a big tournament like this (deep stack, 20,000 starting chips). Either play extremely tightly and hope for monster hands or push the pace and create a loose table image to use to trap people. I decided to let the table help determine which I would choose. As I walked to my starting table, I noticed a lot of the better players from Canterbury were there, as expected. I started on a table I knew would be broken quickly, and given that, I should have abandoned the second strategy--a table image would have been of little use.
I sat in the 10 seat and during the first orbit noticed the table's very tight play. I let play go round again and then woke up in the cut-off with pocket 7s, all folding before me. The big blind I knew well as a loose player and calling machine with decent hands...someone I'd seen get very lucky when sticking in hands. Not a bad player, but definitely a known quantity. I bet 3x the BB (3 x $100), fold, fold, and the big blind called as expected.
The flop came A, K, T rainbow. My 7s were likely beat, but since I was possibly representing an Ace, I needed to bet if given the chance. The big blind checked, and I bet 500 into the 700 pot. BB called. He had something, either a pair or a draw. I was pretty sure he didn't have an ace. The turn was a 6. He checked again, and I fired 1000. He called. He had a pair. The river was a 3.
This was where I made my first mistake. BB checked, and I realized I probably had him if I bet enough. At the same time, if I bet too much, he was likely to see my bluff. The main problem came with the player himself. If he had a king, he would call almost anything in the normal range, thinking he might be good. Most players wouldn't. Too big a bet on my part depicted a bluff. I was stuck. I decided to cut my losses and check as well. He had a king. So what should I have done? I should have checked the turn and saved myself 1000. I was down to 17,500 instead of 18,500. Every chip is valuable, even early, even in a deep stack.
Next time around on the button, I looked down at A5s with one limp before me. I raised to 400 (4x), and the limper called. An ace flopped, and I played it carefully, but the limper showed pocket aces. I felt lucky to be left with a 16,000 chip stack. Eight hands later, I woke up in the big blind with AQ and called the cut-off's 3x raise. An ace came again on the flop, I check called the flop and turn, and checked down the flush scare card on the river. My opponent again had pocket aces, and I was left now with 11,800.
This was not how I had anticipated the day would go.
A few hands later I called a raise with ATs, not my normal play. My opponent checked the J, T, 5 flop, so I bet 1200, which he called. If he had a jack or an overpair, he likely would have bet. I put him on AK or AQ, or possibly a pair under the Ten. Worst case scenario would be his checking a made set, but I figured I just couldn't keep running into monster hands, and if so, then so be it. The turn came Ten and gave me three of a kind. Only a made set on the flop could beat me, and so after his check I bet $2200. He called. I now decided he slow played a big pocket pair after the flop or had played poorly the whole way with KQ. Either way, I was good. The river came K, he checked, and I bet $2800. My opponent then went all-in.
Was he just plain stupid with AK and now thought he was good with Kings? Not likely. My KQ scenario was not likely, either. His all-in indicated he was good. What else could I beat? I could beat KJ, but I didn't think it was likely he would raise pre-flop or that he would check the flop. There really wasn't anything else beside another pocket aces or pocket queens I could beat. I realized he had either stupidly stayed in with AQ and now had caught a straight or had slowed played a set turned full house, in which case it just wasn't my day.
I just couldn't put him on a made hand prior to his check raise, and I figured if he were playing it stupidly, he could just as well think two pair was good as he could bet a straight. I called with my last 5000, and he showed Broadway.
It was pretty much the ugliest, worst-luck sequence of poker I remember playing, and it happened on an $1100 buy-in event. To top it off, I took my last $200 to the blackjack table, grew it to $700, and lost it all systematically with $25 bets over the course of another forty minutes. I never play blackjack...
I have no idea who won, and after a tourney like that, I figured I would ask after taking off a few days! My play was not good, and that happens every once in a while. Focus and discipline were not there for me. I could have continued to play and wait for a big hand with the 5000 chips I instead donated at the end. I could have saved 1000 on the first hand I played, and I could have folded my A5. All these actions were simple plays a rookie might make, and when I start making those mistakes in a tournament, it's time to take some days off. I'll likely play Wednesday again after three days rest.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Poker, Poker, the World Series of Poker
The Twins are suffering the effects of horrible management, both on-field and general, and the Gophers football and basketball are a ways away from newsworthy. And given this "blogger's" apparent inability to write about his favorite frustrating teams, maybe his severe interest in poker is enough to jump start this blog. So I'll write about poker.
The main question an aspiring poker player needs to ask is: how good am I really? There are three certainties in life, namely death, taxes, and you thinking you're a better poker player than you really are. A general misconception of one's abilities shouldn't be too surprising, given the tendency of players to blame their losses on anything but themselves. Heard any bad beat stories lately?
Actually, one measure of how good you are might be how long it's been since you bored someone with a bad beat story.
So where do I stand in line for future poker superstardom? It's a tough call. My results indicate I'm probably in the top ten percent of Minnesota no-limit Texas hold 'em tournament players. I am average at best at no-limit cash, and once the topic becomes limit hold 'em or any games besides hold'em, I would be considered bad at this time. For that reason, any discussion of "poker" in this blog means by default No Limit Texas Hold'em.
2009 Results
While I would like to brag mightily about my success, you can probably understand why I will provide limited information here. I will give a little background information prior to 2009 sometime soon, but suffice it to say the profit was always negative, and I generally look at pre-2009 as strictly a learning experience.
I will brag about my biggest win of the year, which the government is eagerly waiting to get its hands on. Mind you, I'm all about paying lots of taxes, but it still hurts. It seems I spend all my time collecting poker receipts these days. Back to the success. Running Aces started a new deep-stack tournament this calendar year (1st, 3rd, and 5th Saturdays of the month). At the time the buy-in was $550, and in my first attempt, I took down first place. It was a tournament where I was severely short-stacked with blinds getting big, so when I went all-in four times in a row and got called twice, I found myself with maybe the average chip stack, and I pretty much was in the zone thereafter. I played strongly, withstood the temper tantrum of a poker diva whose main characteristic is nastily chastising those who knock her out, and eventually found myself heads-up against Everett.
Everett is another top 10% player in the state, I have come to find. We played in the same World Series event last week, though his results I don't yet know--he told me he was short-stacked during our first break. Heads-up at Running Aces, I had passed him in chip count, and it wasn't long into our match that I threw out the standard raise--three times the big blind--with pocket sixes, he raised all-in with A7s, and we had a showdown. The flop yielded a 7, but I turned a 6, and I won my first ever poker tournament championship, nearly $8k.
That started a winning stretch for me, and I started to believe I was good and knew what I was doing. But as any seasoned poker player knows, success comes in streaks, and "running bad" is soon to follow. My bad streak culminated in late April at Canterbury during a $340 satellite to the Minnesota Poker Championship when I went all-in with fives, got called with Aces, and threw my cards so hard they landed face down on the floor. As I left, I told the tournament director Eddie to not let me play again that week. I no longer knew what I was doing at the poker table.
Daniel Negreanu is the one I credit with pulling me out of my slump a mere ten days later. I decided to join a poker internet site, one that taught the game, to see if it could help me. I chose Negreanu's PokerVT.com. It helped immediately, and I haven't looked back since, cashing in nearly every local tournament I've played. With the exception of some horrible luck at the World Series of Poker, I'm still going strong. I flew in from Vegas at 5:30 am this past Saturday, entered the Running Aces deep-stack tourney at 2pm, and took first place at around 1am Sunday morning. Since then I've had a non-cash at Canterbury and a 4th place at Running Aces.
So that's a summary of my 2009, and many of the items I mention in brief here, I'll expound on in future postings, including the WSOP, my recent win, chopping tournament money, running bad, and Poker Bitch. Maybe that's sexist...she seems nice otherwise, and trust me, there a lot of guys with issues, too.
The main question an aspiring poker player needs to ask is: how good am I really? There are three certainties in life, namely death, taxes, and you thinking you're a better poker player than you really are. A general misconception of one's abilities shouldn't be too surprising, given the tendency of players to blame their losses on anything but themselves. Heard any bad beat stories lately?
Actually, one measure of how good you are might be how long it's been since you bored someone with a bad beat story.
So where do I stand in line for future poker superstardom? It's a tough call. My results indicate I'm probably in the top ten percent of Minnesota no-limit Texas hold 'em tournament players. I am average at best at no-limit cash, and once the topic becomes limit hold 'em or any games besides hold'em, I would be considered bad at this time. For that reason, any discussion of "poker" in this blog means by default No Limit Texas Hold'em.
2009 Results
While I would like to brag mightily about my success, you can probably understand why I will provide limited information here. I will give a little background information prior to 2009 sometime soon, but suffice it to say the profit was always negative, and I generally look at pre-2009 as strictly a learning experience.
I will brag about my biggest win of the year, which the government is eagerly waiting to get its hands on. Mind you, I'm all about paying lots of taxes, but it still hurts. It seems I spend all my time collecting poker receipts these days. Back to the success. Running Aces started a new deep-stack tournament this calendar year (1st, 3rd, and 5th Saturdays of the month). At the time the buy-in was $550, and in my first attempt, I took down first place. It was a tournament where I was severely short-stacked with blinds getting big, so when I went all-in four times in a row and got called twice, I found myself with maybe the average chip stack, and I pretty much was in the zone thereafter. I played strongly, withstood the temper tantrum of a poker diva whose main characteristic is nastily chastising those who knock her out, and eventually found myself heads-up against Everett.
Everett is another top 10% player in the state, I have come to find. We played in the same World Series event last week, though his results I don't yet know--he told me he was short-stacked during our first break. Heads-up at Running Aces, I had passed him in chip count, and it wasn't long into our match that I threw out the standard raise--three times the big blind--with pocket sixes, he raised all-in with A7s, and we had a showdown. The flop yielded a 7, but I turned a 6, and I won my first ever poker tournament championship, nearly $8k.
That started a winning stretch for me, and I started to believe I was good and knew what I was doing. But as any seasoned poker player knows, success comes in streaks, and "running bad" is soon to follow. My bad streak culminated in late April at Canterbury during a $340 satellite to the Minnesota Poker Championship when I went all-in with fives, got called with Aces, and threw my cards so hard they landed face down on the floor. As I left, I told the tournament director Eddie to not let me play again that week. I no longer knew what I was doing at the poker table.
Daniel Negreanu is the one I credit with pulling me out of my slump a mere ten days later. I decided to join a poker internet site, one that taught the game, to see if it could help me. I chose Negreanu's PokerVT.com. It helped immediately, and I haven't looked back since, cashing in nearly every local tournament I've played. With the exception of some horrible luck at the World Series of Poker, I'm still going strong. I flew in from Vegas at 5:30 am this past Saturday, entered the Running Aces deep-stack tourney at 2pm, and took first place at around 1am Sunday morning. Since then I've had a non-cash at Canterbury and a 4th place at Running Aces.
So that's a summary of my 2009, and many of the items I mention in brief here, I'll expound on in future postings, including the WSOP, my recent win, chopping tournament money, running bad, and Poker Bitch. Maybe that's sexist...she seems nice otherwise, and trust me, there a lot of guys with issues, too.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The One from my Hotel Room
I have 48 minutes to shower and get to the noon tournament at the Venetian, so this has to be short. So far:
Arrive Monday night at 7pm, cab to Harrah's, check in, and go right over to the Venetian for their 9pm tourney. Only it is a 7pm tourney. I sit down at their $1/$2 NL Hold'em cash game, knowing that the cash game is not my strong suit. I just want to bide my time until the 11pm tourney at Caesar's (um, it was at 12am), but for the first time ever in a Vegas cash game, I win ($200). Between the rake, dealer tips, and drink tips, I am pretty proud to clear this much in ninety minutes.
10:50pm, arrive at Caesar's and discover I need to wait a while. I buy in to the 1/3 NL game and win another $186 before the tourney starts. The midnight tourney (cost is $70) there is small and only worthwhile because it's one of the few options at that time. I am playing extremely well, doubling my chips while risking very few. Then someone I identify as a poor player goes all in pre-flop against my KK. She has A8s and well, we all know that means aces will flop, and they do here, too. I lose my edge, and I'm soon going all in with 77 as overcards to a flop, only to lose to QQ. Sorry, I can't recall the betting (I'm taking a notepad to the Venetian this Wed noon). I place 20 of 32. I walk back to the cash game and win $170. It's late, and I go to bed, up $486.
Noon, Tuesday, and I enter the Venetian tournament ($150) as one of 139 participants. I am mostly short-stacked, because I learn the hard way that the play in Vegas is different than the play in Minnesota. I basically lose my chips to two limpers, one limping with KK (I had QQ), and one limping with JJ (I had 99). These two losses make me play short stack poker, and I lose all in A10s to the chip leader's AQ. Place 50 out of 139.
Tuesday 4:30, I head to the Bellagio to see baseball people. I don't have a clue who's who, and only recognize that people are wearing media passes. I look for Aaron Gleeman and don't see him, so I go play poker. I buy in for $200 for a cash game when I learn that there is a Sit and Go for $130. Top 2 of 10 get into the $540 Bellagio 7:15pm tourney (and $30 in cash). I get third, of course. On the way out, I pass a blackjack table and decide to put my remaining $70 down for one bet. I get 73 and the dealer has an 8 showing. Of course, with your one and only bet or your last bet, you always get a double down situation! I have four twenties and get $80, $70 of which I use to double. I get a 2, dealer turns over a King, and there goes $140. I bet the extra 10, get QQ, and the dealer gets three cards to 21. Yuck.
Tuesday 7:35pm, I arrive late to the Venetian and pay $120 for the evening tourney. I play the short stack the whole night, surviving by risking the stack and having the table fold. I finally have AJs and get two players to call me. Flop is AK6, turn is 6, river is 2. I think I've won, but the chip leader and hottest player happens to have a 6. Place 18 of 85. Go to bed. Down $550 for the day, $64 for the trip.
Noon Wednesday, Venetian. I'll keep better notes so that I can give some analysis of the interesting hands. I'll try to update before bedtime.
Update: I had zero hands, once going 18 hands with no card higher than a 10. I played one of these tens and made top pair on the flop, only to be bet of the hand by a player who flopped a set. I got blinded down, and my limps all got raised, so I was short stacked immediately, finally went all in with A9 and got caught by AQ. I lasted ninety minutes and decided basically I didn't want to play short stacked all day again. Down $150 on the day, $216 for the trip.
Arrive Monday night at 7pm, cab to Harrah's, check in, and go right over to the Venetian for their 9pm tourney. Only it is a 7pm tourney. I sit down at their $1/$2 NL Hold'em cash game, knowing that the cash game is not my strong suit. I just want to bide my time until the 11pm tourney at Caesar's (um, it was at 12am), but for the first time ever in a Vegas cash game, I win ($200). Between the rake, dealer tips, and drink tips, I am pretty proud to clear this much in ninety minutes.
10:50pm, arrive at Caesar's and discover I need to wait a while. I buy in to the 1/3 NL game and win another $186 before the tourney starts. The midnight tourney (cost is $70) there is small and only worthwhile because it's one of the few options at that time. I am playing extremely well, doubling my chips while risking very few. Then someone I identify as a poor player goes all in pre-flop against my KK. She has A8s and well, we all know that means aces will flop, and they do here, too. I lose my edge, and I'm soon going all in with 77 as overcards to a flop, only to lose to QQ. Sorry, I can't recall the betting (I'm taking a notepad to the Venetian this Wed noon). I place 20 of 32. I walk back to the cash game and win $170. It's late, and I go to bed, up $486.
Noon, Tuesday, and I enter the Venetian tournament ($150) as one of 139 participants. I am mostly short-stacked, because I learn the hard way that the play in Vegas is different than the play in Minnesota. I basically lose my chips to two limpers, one limping with KK (I had QQ), and one limping with JJ (I had 99). These two losses make me play short stack poker, and I lose all in A10s to the chip leader's AQ. Place 50 out of 139.
Tuesday 4:30, I head to the Bellagio to see baseball people. I don't have a clue who's who, and only recognize that people are wearing media passes. I look for Aaron Gleeman and don't see him, so I go play poker. I buy in for $200 for a cash game when I learn that there is a Sit and Go for $130. Top 2 of 10 get into the $540 Bellagio 7:15pm tourney (and $30 in cash). I get third, of course. On the way out, I pass a blackjack table and decide to put my remaining $70 down for one bet. I get 73 and the dealer has an 8 showing. Of course, with your one and only bet or your last bet, you always get a double down situation! I have four twenties and get $80, $70 of which I use to double. I get a 2, dealer turns over a King, and there goes $140. I bet the extra 10, get QQ, and the dealer gets three cards to 21. Yuck.
Tuesday 7:35pm, I arrive late to the Venetian and pay $120 for the evening tourney. I play the short stack the whole night, surviving by risking the stack and having the table fold. I finally have AJs and get two players to call me. Flop is AK6, turn is 6, river is 2. I think I've won, but the chip leader and hottest player happens to have a 6. Place 18 of 85. Go to bed. Down $550 for the day, $64 for the trip.
Noon Wednesday, Venetian. I'll keep better notes so that I can give some analysis of the interesting hands. I'll try to update before bedtime.
Update: I had zero hands, once going 18 hands with no card higher than a 10. I played one of these tens and made top pair on the flop, only to be bet of the hand by a player who flopped a set. I got blinded down, and my limps all got raised, so I was short stacked immediately, finally went all in with A9 and got caught by AQ. I lasted ninety minutes and decided basically I didn't want to play short stacked all day again. Down $150 on the day, $216 for the trip.
Monday, December 8, 2008
The One Where I Email Bill Smith
I just sent off an email to Bill Smith. It's not my first. The problem with sending Bill Smith, general manager of the Minnesota Twins, an email is that one has so much to say, so much to, well, tell him.
I mostly got that email out of the way on Friday, so today, as I prepare for my trip to the winter meetings, I thought maybe I better send Mr. Smith one very succinct email, titled: Garret Atkins' numbers.
I mean, how could he resist opening that email from his hotel room at the Bellagio? If he doesn't recognize my name, it could be contact information for Atkins. And if he has interest in that, then I know I did the right thing by sending Atkins' contact numbers of a different kind.
While Aaron Gleeman is very comprehensive in his analysis of players like Atkins, I broke down the basics of what Smith needed to know about the Rockies' 3Bman:
Garret Atkins, career away from Coors: .260, .328, .424 (avg, obp, slg)
Brian Buscher, vs rhp in 2008: .316, .368, .437
Brendan Harris, career vs lhp: .295, .360, .440
How can anybody look at these numbers and make a trade for the poor fielder who's enjoyed the fruits of hitting at Coors Field? I don't think even Bill Smith can ignore this...if he opens it. Perhaps I should have shown more restraint and less rambling in my email on Friday, though, for now I fear he will see my name and dismiss it without opening. Oh, the humanity!
I mostly got that email out of the way on Friday, so today, as I prepare for my trip to the winter meetings, I thought maybe I better send Mr. Smith one very succinct email, titled: Garret Atkins' numbers.
I mean, how could he resist opening that email from his hotel room at the Bellagio? If he doesn't recognize my name, it could be contact information for Atkins. And if he has interest in that, then I know I did the right thing by sending Atkins' contact numbers of a different kind.
While Aaron Gleeman is very comprehensive in his analysis of players like Atkins, I broke down the basics of what Smith needed to know about the Rockies' 3Bman:
Garret Atkins, career away from Coors: .260, .328, .424 (avg, obp, slg)
Brian Buscher, vs rhp in 2008: .316, .368, .437
Brendan Harris, career vs lhp: .295, .360, .440
How can anybody look at these numbers and make a trade for the poor fielder who's enjoyed the fruits of hitting at Coors Field? I don't think even Bill Smith can ignore this...if he opens it. Perhaps I should have shown more restraint and less rambling in my email on Friday, though, for now I fear he will see my name and dismiss it without opening. Oh, the humanity!
The One That Got Away
As I depart for Las Vegas this afternoon, I thought I'd briefly update all on the recent poker tournament I played in at Running Aces. There's not much to say, other than I again made my biggest mistake in poker--I assumed my opponent was bluffing or clueless. More on that some other time. This time with AK and a flop of A, 9, 2 rainbow, I disbelieved that the Big Blind, who made a pot-sized bet, had hit a set. His call of a preflop raise had me pretty sure he didn't have two pair, and I just couldn't put him on pocked deuces or nines. I went all in, and he insta-called with deuces.
To provide you all with the number one rule in all of poker: If you assume your opponent is bluffing or just trying to steal with a medium hand, you had better be able to rule out the hands that can beat you. In this case, I could rule out AA and 92 pretty easily, but what if the BB had stayed rather foolishly with A2 or A9 suited? It was possible, as were 22 and to a lesser extent 99, which he would more likely re-rasie with. My bad.
On Wednesday, I got away with one mistake in the $100 noon tourney at Running Aces and proceeded to make it to the final two, heads up. I played very well overall with good cards, a combination that has unfortunately been lacking in my game. My opponent had a 3:2 chip lead, and I went all-in with K5o. He had A8, called, and it held up.
Upon reflection, I became furious at my decision. I had about 110,000 chips with the blinds 6k/12k. I was on the small blind. While a king looked good, afterward I tried to imagine the scenarios, given the various hands he might have had:
Any pair: he calls, and I'm behind.
Ace mid or better, such as he had: he calls, and I'm behind
K9-KQ: he calls, and I'm dominated
Q9 or worse: he folds, and I pick up 12k, or about 4% of the total chips
That leaves QJ, Q10, J10, Ace low, and King mid or low as the only hands where he has to think. Given his conservative play and nice chip lead, he probably folds all the hands here where I'm in the lead, knowing I have those beat. The only positive impact of my going all in was to possibly push him off Ace low or King mid, meaning I'd pick up a few chips I shouldn't have.
To sum, he would fold all hands where I had him beat, and there were only a few hands he would fold where he had me beat. I was in a Big Lose, tiny win situation. Very stupid play on my part. Most times, he won't have a hand, so I'd get away with it, and truthfully, I'd probably already gotten away with one or two of those.
Tonight I play the Venetian tournament. Assuming I can get online, expect an update in the morning. If I can keep pumping out the blog material, my plan is to keep a running summary of tournaments I play in, starting today. Mind you, for 2008, I would have to win a big tournament to get into positive $$$, so a tax man need only be concerned with my 2009 running tally.
To provide you all with the number one rule in all of poker: If you assume your opponent is bluffing or just trying to steal with a medium hand, you had better be able to rule out the hands that can beat you. In this case, I could rule out AA and 92 pretty easily, but what if the BB had stayed rather foolishly with A2 or A9 suited? It was possible, as were 22 and to a lesser extent 99, which he would more likely re-rasie with. My bad.
On Wednesday, I got away with one mistake in the $100 noon tourney at Running Aces and proceeded to make it to the final two, heads up. I played very well overall with good cards, a combination that has unfortunately been lacking in my game. My opponent had a 3:2 chip lead, and I went all-in with K5o. He had A8, called, and it held up.
Upon reflection, I became furious at my decision. I had about 110,000 chips with the blinds 6k/12k. I was on the small blind. While a king looked good, afterward I tried to imagine the scenarios, given the various hands he might have had:
Any pair: he calls, and I'm behind.
Ace mid or better, such as he had: he calls, and I'm behind
K9-KQ: he calls, and I'm dominated
Q9 or worse: he folds, and I pick up 12k, or about 4% of the total chips
That leaves QJ, Q10, J10, Ace low, and King mid or low as the only hands where he has to think. Given his conservative play and nice chip lead, he probably folds all the hands here where I'm in the lead, knowing I have those beat. The only positive impact of my going all in was to possibly push him off Ace low or King mid, meaning I'd pick up a few chips I shouldn't have.
To sum, he would fold all hands where I had him beat, and there were only a few hands he would fold where he had me beat. I was in a Big Lose, tiny win situation. Very stupid play on my part. Most times, he won't have a hand, so I'd get away with it, and truthfully, I'd probably already gotten away with one or two of those.
Tonight I play the Venetian tournament. Assuming I can get online, expect an update in the morning. If I can keep pumping out the blog material, my plan is to keep a running summary of tournaments I play in, starting today. Mind you, for 2008, I would have to win a big tournament to get into positive $$$, so a tax man need only be concerned with my 2009 running tally.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
The One about the Vikings
I'll readily admit to being a fair-weather Viking fan...maybe a bit more, since I'll watch them if I'm not doing anything else at home, even if they stink. As the NFL years go by, I know less because I care less, but I still have some wisdom about the sport. I was a football nut and played it (poorly) in college, and that basis never really leaves a person. So as I sit around the poker table and listen to the virtually unanimous opinion that Brad Childress is a horrible coach, I ask why and never really get a coherent answer. Play-calling and "should be winning" are the best the poker table can muster, and frankly, I just haven't bought it.
So I ask about the one Childress decision that, to me, was crucial and perhaps displayed poor judgment: don't you think, I ask the big and small blinds, that after just two games removing a young quarterback who's shown some promise, who went 8-4 as a starter last year, who provides an extra athletic dimension...and replacing him with a competent career backup, a never-was, never-will-be, and certainly an ehh QB who's about fifty was a basic poor decision for a coach who needs to make the playoffs and maybe win a game?
The button usually chimes in at this point, stating the obvious, that Tarvaris Jackson sucked in the Vikings' first two games this year. Fair enough, say I, he did pretty much suck. But then I remind the folks that Jackson got hurt in his 2nd preseason game, didn't play until the opener, and maybe he wasn't quite ready to start the season. I translate the "Jackson sucks" and "Gus Frerotte's 5-3" type responses that follow to "I'm a stupid white trash hick" and/or "ok, you caught me, deep down I don't want a black quarterback" and proceed to folding my hand.
At the time of Jackson's demotion, I balked, stating the above. But I also added this: if Childress keeps Jackson on the bench for a few games, it may well help the kid. The learning curve for an NFL quarterback is steep, and when one is expected to both learn and concentrate on performing, the difficulty is another order. I was happy to let Jackson, well familiar with playing NFL games, actually sit on the bench, soak up knowledge that is suddenly pertinent, and gain vision for what's happening on the field. I thought this would take two, maybe three games, and Jackson would be ready to come back and be a decent NFL starting QB.
The problem was, Brad Childress apparently didn't have this plan. He was happy to let Frerotte be his very mediocre self every week with this apparent strategy in mind: the Vikings have a lot of talent, the division is very weak, and a young QB who may or may not be ready will not decide the fate of a coach who only needs to make the playoffs to secure his job.
As a fan, intense or not, I was put off by this decision, and it was the only one I could think of as to why Childress should be fired. I certainly don't want anyone anywhere to get hurt, but I've found myself secretly happy every time Frerotte has gone to the ground with injury. I wanted Jackson back in there, and it appeared that injury (hopefully minor) would be the only way that Childress would allow that.
Today it happened. Jackson, not having played for twelve weeks, came in when Frerotte went down and immediately looked better than Frerotte has in his three months as the starter. Granted, the playbook was short, the actual number of drives was only two, and the opposition hadn't prepared for Jackson. But he performed and performed well. Hopefully, that's the last we'll see of Frerotte as a starter, and we in Minnesota can actually start to think about winning a playoff game.
Oh, and one more thing, Childress should have gone for two against Detroit back on October 12.
So I ask about the one Childress decision that, to me, was crucial and perhaps displayed poor judgment: don't you think, I ask the big and small blinds, that after just two games removing a young quarterback who's shown some promise, who went 8-4 as a starter last year, who provides an extra athletic dimension...and replacing him with a competent career backup, a never-was, never-will-be, and certainly an ehh QB who's about fifty was a basic poor decision for a coach who needs to make the playoffs and maybe win a game?
The button usually chimes in at this point, stating the obvious, that Tarvaris Jackson sucked in the Vikings' first two games this year. Fair enough, say I, he did pretty much suck. But then I remind the folks that Jackson got hurt in his 2nd preseason game, didn't play until the opener, and maybe he wasn't quite ready to start the season. I translate the "Jackson sucks" and "Gus Frerotte's 5-3" type responses that follow to "I'm a stupid white trash hick" and/or "ok, you caught me, deep down I don't want a black quarterback" and proceed to folding my hand.
At the time of Jackson's demotion, I balked, stating the above. But I also added this: if Childress keeps Jackson on the bench for a few games, it may well help the kid. The learning curve for an NFL quarterback is steep, and when one is expected to both learn and concentrate on performing, the difficulty is another order. I was happy to let Jackson, well familiar with playing NFL games, actually sit on the bench, soak up knowledge that is suddenly pertinent, and gain vision for what's happening on the field. I thought this would take two, maybe three games, and Jackson would be ready to come back and be a decent NFL starting QB.
The problem was, Brad Childress apparently didn't have this plan. He was happy to let Frerotte be his very mediocre self every week with this apparent strategy in mind: the Vikings have a lot of talent, the division is very weak, and a young QB who may or may not be ready will not decide the fate of a coach who only needs to make the playoffs to secure his job.
As a fan, intense or not, I was put off by this decision, and it was the only one I could think of as to why Childress should be fired. I certainly don't want anyone anywhere to get hurt, but I've found myself secretly happy every time Frerotte has gone to the ground with injury. I wanted Jackson back in there, and it appeared that injury (hopefully minor) would be the only way that Childress would allow that.
Today it happened. Jackson, not having played for twelve weeks, came in when Frerotte went down and immediately looked better than Frerotte has in his three months as the starter. Granted, the playbook was short, the actual number of drives was only two, and the opposition hadn't prepared for Jackson. But he performed and performed well. Hopefully, that's the last we'll see of Frerotte as a starter, and we in Minnesota can actually start to think about winning a playoff game.
Oh, and one more thing, Childress should have gone for two against Detroit back on October 12.
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