Ameristar Casino, Blackhawk, CO, $1/$2 NL, buy-in: $200
I want to talk about a hand that I played recently, because I think it exemplifies how many different things you have to take into consideration when playing this game that we love so much. Not only do you have to do the appropriate math on any given hand, but you also have to think about how the table is running and what the different interactions are between the different players.
On this occasion it was a Friday night, so there was the expected mix of serious and recreational players, both older and younger. After a few hours at the table I was comfortably up a couple hundred bucks, and I felt like I had good control of my play and a decently aggressive table image. I hadn’t played anything “out of line”, so nobody was trying to come after me and I felt like I was attracting a solid, predictable line of play from the other players. In other words, my play had been solid enough that the other players knew the only way they could beat me was with a good, solid hand, which in turn made my evaluation of their play very easy.
All this changed when a hyper-aggro older man joined the table. He bought in for $200 and dusted it off in about thirty minutes. He was raising with any two cards and calling all the way to the river with them. This immediately put everyone at the table on their heels, including me.
He bought in for another $200 and continued this same line of play. This time, however, he started hitting his hands. I tried to play back at him a couple times, but the cards just weren’t coming for me to continue to punish him after the flop. It got very frustrating.
KEY HAND:
The aggro guy was in the BB and I was in the cut-off. There were three limpers when the action got to me and I decided to limp with As4s. The button and the SB also limped and the BB raised it to $12. One of the limpers called and I called, so we were three-handed to the flop.
My reasoning for making this call was that 1) he had been playing and raising with all sorts of hands, so 2) there was a good chance that I had the best hand, but if I didn’t, then 3) the flop could hit me over the head and I could punish him, but 4) I don’t want to re-raise here because he could still have a real hand and if he comes back over the top, I have to fold. Obviously, if the board bricks or an A comes on the flop and there’s a bet, it’s an easy fold for me.
The flop came out 3c5s7h.
Mr. Aggro immediately bet $100 into the $46 pot and the other caller folded. With the action on me, I tanked. I wanted so badly to play this hand, but my stack had dwindled to about $230, and I was afraid of losing the chips, especially after I had been up so much earlier. I ended up folding and the Mr. Aggro showed KK. However, the more I’ve thought about it, the more I think I should have played, and here’s why:
Obviously, in the face of the $100 bet on the flop, I would have re-raised for my whole stack. There was a good enough chance that I still had the best hand and that he would have folded to make that a good play.
After the flop, I had a double-belly straight draw (8 outs), I think any A on the board would make me good (3 outs), and I could have gone runner-runner flush (8 outs), for a total of 19 outs. By my amateur math, that put me at about 50/50 to win the hand after the flop. If you factor in that I would have had to go runner-runner for the flush, let’s call it 45% that I win.
As we all know, though, the math is just one part of the game. You also have to take into account the table dynamic and whom you’re up against in each hand. In this case I feel like I was almost obligated to play this hand, based on my opponent. He had been pushing and pushing and it was time for someone at the table to really push back. I missed my chance.
What got in the way of making the right decision was my fear of losing my money. In the future, I can’t let my fear of losing cloud my judgment on what I now know would have been both a mathematically, as well as, for lack of a better word, emotionally, correct decision.
I ended up cashing out with a +$50 session, but I’ll always remember this hand and focus on making good decisions, regardless of how much money is involved.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Space Poker
I had an interesting discussion with someone at my "day job" the other day. He asked me how my Christmas was and if I got everything I wanted. I told him about Annie Duke's Epic Poker seminar that my mom got me as a combo gift for Christmas and my birthday, and how she had already ordered some poker books for me before she decided to get me the seminar, so I got the books too.
He said to me, "Wow, you're really into poker." And I said, "Yeah, I'm trying to become a poker pro."
It was at this point that he kind of chuckled and had a slight look of disbelief on his face, as if I was a five year-old telling him I wanted to be an astronaut. "That's nice, Kevin, but I heard outer space is really cold."
And that's when I realized that's exactly what I was telling him. I was basically telling him that I want to be an astronaut.
There's a certain mythos that people associate with being an astronaut. People see shuttles being launched into space, into outer space, and people walking on the moon, and it becomes this "larger than life" thing to them. And on top of it, so few people do it, that it seems impossible. But what a lot of people don't realize is that there is a body of work, a base, that all astronauts have. Sure it involves lots of physics and advanced physics and aeronautical engineering, and probably thousands of hours in a lab, and for some, time in the military. And yes, there are some who suffer setbacks and others that just don’t make the cut, but it's there, and it's something that any one of us could have done if we'd just decided that we wanted to do it.
I get the feeling that people see "professional poker" in much the same way. People watch poker on tv and they see these pros playing for hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars, and that’s what they think it’s all about. It’s larger than life. For most of America, dollar figures like that are a fairy tale; something the Average Joe will never see in his lifetime.
But what people don’t see are the thousands of hours of work poker players put in. They don’t see the hand analyses, the book reading, the coaching, the tournament bust-outs, the year-long card droughts, the days upon days spent at the poker table learning and re-learning their craft. They don’t understand that what they see on tv is not only the culmination of years of struggle and hard work, but it’s also just a small piece of professional poker. Just like they don’t really comprehend all the years of struggle and hard work it took to be an astronaut on the shuttle they just watched get launched into space, but also that a shuttle launch is just a small piece of being an astronaut.
But what they don’t realize about poker, just like becoming an astronaut, is that there is no mythos. It’s not magical. It’s work. Anybody can do it if they’re willing to put in the work and put themselves on the line.
To me, being a professional poker player means making a living playing poker. It means that I play poker so that I can put food on my table and pay my bills. At its simplest, that’s what it is. Sure, there’s more to it once you get to the big stage. In fact, Matt Glantz wrote a great blog about responsibility in poker. But, for now, I just want to pay my rent.
And the best part of the whole thing, as a 32, nigh 33, year-old bachelor bartender college dropout, is that I’ve finally realized that I can do it to. I can become a professional poker player. In poker I’ve found something that I’m passionate about; something for which I’ve been searching for damn near 12 years. I’m willing to put in the work. I want to read the books. I’m happy to do the homework.
I’ve already seen more improvement in my poker game in the last three months than I did in the previous eight years. I can only imagine what I’ll be able to do as I put in more and more hours at the table and in the books.
This is what I want to do for the rest of my life and I expect people to be skeptical when I tell them what I want to be when I “grow up.” But it’s fun telling them I want to be an astronaut.
He said to me, "Wow, you're really into poker." And I said, "Yeah, I'm trying to become a poker pro."
It was at this point that he kind of chuckled and had a slight look of disbelief on his face, as if I was a five year-old telling him I wanted to be an astronaut. "That's nice, Kevin, but I heard outer space is really cold."
And that's when I realized that's exactly what I was telling him. I was basically telling him that I want to be an astronaut.
There's a certain mythos that people associate with being an astronaut. People see shuttles being launched into space, into outer space, and people walking on the moon, and it becomes this "larger than life" thing to them. And on top of it, so few people do it, that it seems impossible. But what a lot of people don't realize is that there is a body of work, a base, that all astronauts have. Sure it involves lots of physics and advanced physics and aeronautical engineering, and probably thousands of hours in a lab, and for some, time in the military. And yes, there are some who suffer setbacks and others that just don’t make the cut, but it's there, and it's something that any one of us could have done if we'd just decided that we wanted to do it.
I get the feeling that people see "professional poker" in much the same way. People watch poker on tv and they see these pros playing for hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars, and that’s what they think it’s all about. It’s larger than life. For most of America, dollar figures like that are a fairy tale; something the Average Joe will never see in his lifetime.
But what people don’t see are the thousands of hours of work poker players put in. They don’t see the hand analyses, the book reading, the coaching, the tournament bust-outs, the year-long card droughts, the days upon days spent at the poker table learning and re-learning their craft. They don’t understand that what they see on tv is not only the culmination of years of struggle and hard work, but it’s also just a small piece of professional poker. Just like they don’t really comprehend all the years of struggle and hard work it took to be an astronaut on the shuttle they just watched get launched into space, but also that a shuttle launch is just a small piece of being an astronaut.
But what they don’t realize about poker, just like becoming an astronaut, is that there is no mythos. It’s not magical. It’s work. Anybody can do it if they’re willing to put in the work and put themselves on the line.
To me, being a professional poker player means making a living playing poker. It means that I play poker so that I can put food on my table and pay my bills. At its simplest, that’s what it is. Sure, there’s more to it once you get to the big stage. In fact, Matt Glantz wrote a great blog about responsibility in poker. But, for now, I just want to pay my rent.
And the best part of the whole thing, as a 32, nigh 33, year-old bachelor bartender college dropout, is that I’ve finally realized that I can do it to. I can become a professional poker player. In poker I’ve found something that I’m passionate about; something for which I’ve been searching for damn near 12 years. I’m willing to put in the work. I want to read the books. I’m happy to do the homework.
I’ve already seen more improvement in my poker game in the last three months than I did in the previous eight years. I can only imagine what I’ll be able to do as I put in more and more hours at the table and in the books.
This is what I want to do for the rest of my life and I expect people to be skeptical when I tell them what I want to be when I “grow up.” But it’s fun telling them I want to be an astronaut.
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Epic Weekend, Part 1
Just over a week ago I had the chance to go to Vegas for Annie Duke's Epic Poker seminar. In a word, it was AWESOME.
Check-in was Friday night, with a full day of poker planned for Saturday. I decided to goof around a bit in the poker room Friday night and ended up donking off $100 pretty quickly in a $2/$4 limit game. I immediately changed to the $1/$3 no-limit game and my fortunes changed as well. I played the hand of the night pretty early. I called a $10 pre-flop raise with 77 and three of us went to the flop. The flop came 979 for a flopped boat for me and I was able to get all my money in on the turn. Just to make sure I was good, I rivered a 7 for quads and a $50 high-hand bonus. The rest of the night was pretty uneventful and I ended up cashing out for +$74 on the night.
The next day I had breakfast with Mom and headed off for the noon start of the seminar. The two-hour classroom portion of the seminar was based on Annie Duke's book, Decide To Play Great Poker, obviously, and she pointed out that she would be focusing on pre-flop decision making, as she would need three days to cover everything she writes about in her book (a three day poker seminar with Annie Duke? Where do I sign up?).
I've read Annie's book, but there were times my brain would sort of "tune out" what I was reading. There is a lot of game theory in what she teaches and at times it can get sort of complicated in regards to the multiple levels of thought you have to put into the game. Luckily, she taught this seminar as if none of us had read the book. She was able to illustrate and reinforce what I had read in the book and all of a sudden it just "clicked" in my brain. I could clearly see the benefits, but more importantly, the detriments of playing certain hands in certain situations - hands I typically played as if they were the nuts.
No wonder I haven't become a winning poker player in almost ten years of playing this game.
We broke for lunch, got our gift bags with a sweatshirt, hat, and copy of Annie's book, and then reconvened for the practical portion of the seminar. For this, Annie brought in four poker pros to sit at the table with us and deal while we played hands and then discussed the decision-making process behind everything we were doing. This portion of the seminar was, quite simply, worth every penny. The pros were Annie (@AnnieDuke), Ali Nejad (@Ali_Nejad), Matt Glantz (@MattGlantz), McLean Karr (@mcleankarr), and Tim West (@TheTmay).
Matt was first up at my table. For those of you who may not know, Matt is one of the pre-eminent mixed game players in the world. He was a little nervous at first, admitting that it was probably his first time dealing cards and definitely his first time teaching, but once he started talking about the game he loves, he got totally comfortable.
McLean was next at the table and his genuine enthusiasm for the game was infectious. When someone would ask a question about how to play a hand, he wouldn't discount the proposition, but typically answered with something along the lines of, "Yeah, you could do that. And then maybe if he bets into you on the turn, you can come over the top and crush him. That's what's so great about his game, there's no one way to play a hand." His enthusiasm was made more legit when, before leaving our table, Matt had told us that McLean is one of the "great young minds" in the game.
Annie, Ali, and Tim all rotated through our table as well, and all with the same message: making a good decision before the flop will make your decisions throughout the hand a lot easier, and that's what you want. It was really great to get five different perspectives on the same thing and see how you can take different routes to reach the same goal.
This was an absolutely incredible seminar. And if there were ever another one, maybe covering post-flop play, I wouldn't hesitate to make my way back out to Vegas for it.
Check-in was Friday night, with a full day of poker planned for Saturday. I decided to goof around a bit in the poker room Friday night and ended up donking off $100 pretty quickly in a $2/$4 limit game. I immediately changed to the $1/$3 no-limit game and my fortunes changed as well. I played the hand of the night pretty early. I called a $10 pre-flop raise with 77 and three of us went to the flop. The flop came 979 for a flopped boat for me and I was able to get all my money in on the turn. Just to make sure I was good, I rivered a 7 for quads and a $50 high-hand bonus. The rest of the night was pretty uneventful and I ended up cashing out for +$74 on the night.
The next day I had breakfast with Mom and headed off for the noon start of the seminar. The two-hour classroom portion of the seminar was based on Annie Duke's book, Decide To Play Great Poker, obviously, and she pointed out that she would be focusing on pre-flop decision making, as she would need three days to cover everything she writes about in her book (a three day poker seminar with Annie Duke? Where do I sign up?).
I've read Annie's book, but there were times my brain would sort of "tune out" what I was reading. There is a lot of game theory in what she teaches and at times it can get sort of complicated in regards to the multiple levels of thought you have to put into the game. Luckily, she taught this seminar as if none of us had read the book. She was able to illustrate and reinforce what I had read in the book and all of a sudden it just "clicked" in my brain. I could clearly see the benefits, but more importantly, the detriments of playing certain hands in certain situations - hands I typically played as if they were the nuts.
No wonder I haven't become a winning poker player in almost ten years of playing this game.
We broke for lunch, got our gift bags with a sweatshirt, hat, and copy of Annie's book, and then reconvened for the practical portion of the seminar. For this, Annie brought in four poker pros to sit at the table with us and deal while we played hands and then discussed the decision-making process behind everything we were doing. This portion of the seminar was, quite simply, worth every penny. The pros were Annie (@AnnieDuke), Ali Nejad (@Ali_Nejad), Matt Glantz (@MattGlantz), McLean Karr (@mcleankarr), and Tim West (@TheTmay).
Matt was first up at my table. For those of you who may not know, Matt is one of the pre-eminent mixed game players in the world. He was a little nervous at first, admitting that it was probably his first time dealing cards and definitely his first time teaching, but once he started talking about the game he loves, he got totally comfortable.
McLean was next at the table and his genuine enthusiasm for the game was infectious. When someone would ask a question about how to play a hand, he wouldn't discount the proposition, but typically answered with something along the lines of, "Yeah, you could do that. And then maybe if he bets into you on the turn, you can come over the top and crush him. That's what's so great about his game, there's no one way to play a hand." His enthusiasm was made more legit when, before leaving our table, Matt had told us that McLean is one of the "great young minds" in the game.
Annie, Ali, and Tim all rotated through our table as well, and all with the same message: making a good decision before the flop will make your decisions throughout the hand a lot easier, and that's what you want. It was really great to get five different perspectives on the same thing and see how you can take different routes to reach the same goal.
This was an absolutely incredible seminar. And if there were ever another one, maybe covering post-flop play, I wouldn't hesitate to make my way back out to Vegas for it.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Epically Excited
So I'm sitting around my mom's house after my de-herniation surgery and I'm scrolling through Twitter. I casually mention the Living Social deal for the Epic Poker League (@EpicPoker) and poker training by Annie Duke (@AnnieDuke) on Dec. 9th and 10th. I mention that it seems like a pretty good deal for two nights at the Palms, four hours total of poker training, entry into an Epic satellite, and various other little "gifts." Honestly, I'm just making conversation. My mom looks me dead in the eye and says, "You want an early Christmas/birthday present?"
Is that a real question?
I scoffed and said that plane tickets were probably outrageous, as the event was only a week away. Mom said that if I paid for the ticket, she'd buy me the package.
So of COURSE I checked. And of COURSE the tickets were still affordable. And of COURSE I'm going.
I've recently made a conscious effort and taken necessary steps to try to make poker my life. I want to make a living playing the game and I want to make a living writing about the game. Hell, I even have a part-time financial backer. This trip seems like the perfect storm of serendipity-ness. Serendipitiousness. Serendipiocity. You know what I mean.
Not only do I get world class poker training from Annie Duke, but Ali Nejad (@Ali_Nejad), Matt Glantz (@MattGlantz), and McLean Karr (@mcleankarr) are also part of the teaching roster.
I feel like that reads like a commercial, but I don't care. I'm fricken' excited.
In addition, numerous poker media types will be converging on the Palms that weekend for all of the Epic Poker festivities, and this is what I'm really looking forward to.
A while back I tweeted to a few writers and photogs and asked if they had any words of advice for someone wanting to break into the industry. The first response I got was from Jessica Welman (@jesswelman), Managing Editor of BLUFF Magazine and WPT reporter. In a phrase, her advice was "don't expect it to be easy, work hard, get lucky." Fair enough. A couple others tweeted their agreement with her, but added nothing themselves.
Then I got a response from Jennifer Newell (@writerjen), writer for Epic Poker, amongst other publications, and this one was much more in depth. She asked about what I'd done so far and what my specific interests are. She told me to keep blogging to build an audience and email poker websites and ask if they need part-time help. Bingo. She even did me a solid and followed me on Twitter and has re-tweeted a couple of my blog posts. Awesome.
So, needless to say, between all the poker lessons and poker playing and running around introducing myself (without seeming like a stalker) to poker media types, this weekend should be full of fun and excitement and has a lot of potential for changing my future.
Is that a real question?
I scoffed and said that plane tickets were probably outrageous, as the event was only a week away. Mom said that if I paid for the ticket, she'd buy me the package.
So of COURSE I checked. And of COURSE the tickets were still affordable. And of COURSE I'm going.
I've recently made a conscious effort and taken necessary steps to try to make poker my life. I want to make a living playing the game and I want to make a living writing about the game. Hell, I even have a part-time financial backer. This trip seems like the perfect storm of serendipity-ness. Serendipitiousness. Serendipiocity. You know what I mean.
Not only do I get world class poker training from Annie Duke, but Ali Nejad (@Ali_Nejad), Matt Glantz (@MattGlantz), and McLean Karr (@mcleankarr) are also part of the teaching roster.
I feel like that reads like a commercial, but I don't care. I'm fricken' excited.
In addition, numerous poker media types will be converging on the Palms that weekend for all of the Epic Poker festivities, and this is what I'm really looking forward to.
A while back I tweeted to a few writers and photogs and asked if they had any words of advice for someone wanting to break into the industry. The first response I got was from Jessica Welman (@jesswelman), Managing Editor of BLUFF Magazine and WPT reporter. In a phrase, her advice was "don't expect it to be easy, work hard, get lucky." Fair enough. A couple others tweeted their agreement with her, but added nothing themselves.
Then I got a response from Jennifer Newell (@writerjen), writer for Epic Poker, amongst other publications, and this one was much more in depth. She asked about what I'd done so far and what my specific interests are. She told me to keep blogging to build an audience and email poker websites and ask if they need part-time help. Bingo. She even did me a solid and followed me on Twitter and has re-tweeted a couple of my blog posts. Awesome.
So, needless to say, between all the poker lessons and poker playing and running around introducing myself (without seeming like a stalker) to poker media types, this weekend should be full of fun and excitement and has a lot of potential for changing my future.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Always Learning
It had been a while since I played any tournament poker, so the day before Thanksgiving I went up the hill with a buddy to jump into a daily donkament. I use that term affectionately, but with a $60 buy-in, 20 minute levels, 8,000 in starting chips, a $10 dealer add-on for 5,000 chips and basically a who's-who of local poker players who are just killing time, it amounts to nothing more than a non-deepstack semi-turbo. But, it's a nice daily tournament in a clean poker room with competent dealers in the box.
However, this story isn't about tournament structures or even me winning the damn thing. This is a story about learning more about myself, a goal I have for every session I play whether it's cash or tournament. The only way I'll get better as a player is to learn more every time I sit down at a table.
The bonus chips we received at the beginning of the tournament allowed me to play around a little more in the early stages than I usually do. And based on what I learned, I think I know why the pros like deep structures in tournaments.
At 25/50, an older gentleman in early position raised to 200. Two players called the raise and I joined them with K4hh, my thinking being that if the flop hit me hard it would be well-disguised, and if it didn't I could get out relatively cheaply.
The flop came 10JQ rainbow, but one heart. The old man led out for 400 and the first two callers folded. I called. I could run through the math to rationalize my decision, but I just wanted to see a turn card. And I didn't like the way the old man looked at me.
The turn was a Q and the old man checked to me. At this point, if I'd had my druthers, I probably should have bet, repping the Q. As it was, I was happy to see a free river.
The river came 9, making my straight. He bet, I raised, he said "You got there, did ya'?" and called. I was a little sheepish to turn my hand over, but I had the nuts, so whatever. He looked disgustedly at me, flipping over one of his cards, a jack, and mumbling something sarcastically about a nice call.
I learned two things on this hand: 1) The old man was willing to bet and call all the way down with 2nd pair, and 2) I had tilted him.
A few hands later I chased a flush draw against the old man and folded on the river when I didn't get there. This time he said very audibly to the player next to him, "See? He just chases everything." At that moment I made a conscious decision to play off of that table image, to run a long-bluff.
Not too long after, I ran a "fake chase" against the old man. I played the hand as if I was on a draw, and would have bet the crap out of it had it hit on the river, but it missed and I folded. However, not three hands later, I played a hand that was perfect for the set-up that had been happening.
The old man had been getting frustrated and, with blinds at 100/200, snap-raised from early position to 700. It folded around to me where I found JJ in my hand. I took this opportunity to play off the table image I had established, especially in his eyes, and I just called. Everyone else folded. The flop was all low. He checked the flop, I bet "on the come", he raised, I called. The turn was another number, he bet, I called. The river paired the board. He bet and I moved all-in. He snap called and flipped over his pocket 10s, thinking I had moved in on a busted draw. He actually cursed when I turned over my JJ for the winning hand. He couldn't believe that I had "woken up" with a real hand. I now had the table chip lead and felt like I had complete control over the table.
This was the first time I had stayed focus enough in a tournament to really be able to gauge how other people viewed me, and I was immediately rewarded because of it. It was nice to be able to add another weapon to my arsenal at the poker table and move on from simply "can my cards beat their cards." I'll look forward to playing in tournaments in the future that have a little "deeper" structure so I can continue to use my table image to my advantage.
However, this story isn't about tournament structures or even me winning the damn thing. This is a story about learning more about myself, a goal I have for every session I play whether it's cash or tournament. The only way I'll get better as a player is to learn more every time I sit down at a table.
The bonus chips we received at the beginning of the tournament allowed me to play around a little more in the early stages than I usually do. And based on what I learned, I think I know why the pros like deep structures in tournaments.
At 25/50, an older gentleman in early position raised to 200. Two players called the raise and I joined them with K4hh, my thinking being that if the flop hit me hard it would be well-disguised, and if it didn't I could get out relatively cheaply.
The flop came 10JQ rainbow, but one heart. The old man led out for 400 and the first two callers folded. I called. I could run through the math to rationalize my decision, but I just wanted to see a turn card. And I didn't like the way the old man looked at me.
The turn was a Q and the old man checked to me. At this point, if I'd had my druthers, I probably should have bet, repping the Q. As it was, I was happy to see a free river.
The river came 9, making my straight. He bet, I raised, he said "You got there, did ya'?" and called. I was a little sheepish to turn my hand over, but I had the nuts, so whatever. He looked disgustedly at me, flipping over one of his cards, a jack, and mumbling something sarcastically about a nice call.
I learned two things on this hand: 1) The old man was willing to bet and call all the way down with 2nd pair, and 2) I had tilted him.
A few hands later I chased a flush draw against the old man and folded on the river when I didn't get there. This time he said very audibly to the player next to him, "See? He just chases everything." At that moment I made a conscious decision to play off of that table image, to run a long-bluff.
Not too long after, I ran a "fake chase" against the old man. I played the hand as if I was on a draw, and would have bet the crap out of it had it hit on the river, but it missed and I folded. However, not three hands later, I played a hand that was perfect for the set-up that had been happening.
The old man had been getting frustrated and, with blinds at 100/200, snap-raised from early position to 700. It folded around to me where I found JJ in my hand. I took this opportunity to play off the table image I had established, especially in his eyes, and I just called. Everyone else folded. The flop was all low. He checked the flop, I bet "on the come", he raised, I called. The turn was another number, he bet, I called. The river paired the board. He bet and I moved all-in. He snap called and flipped over his pocket 10s, thinking I had moved in on a busted draw. He actually cursed when I turned over my JJ for the winning hand. He couldn't believe that I had "woken up" with a real hand. I now had the table chip lead and felt like I had complete control over the table.
This was the first time I had stayed focus enough in a tournament to really be able to gauge how other people viewed me, and I was immediately rewarded because of it. It was nice to be able to add another weapon to my arsenal at the poker table and move on from simply "can my cards beat their cards." I'll look forward to playing in tournaments in the future that have a little "deeper" structure so I can continue to use my table image to my advantage.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Loving the Live Streams
I recently made a conscious decision to improve my poker game so that I can stop "working" for a living and earn money doing something I really enjoy. I've purchased a few books and I've been doing my best to play as much as possible so I can practice what I learn.
While I've learned a lot from those books, I've discovered (something that is totally obvious, I suppose) that the books can't cover everything. They try and give you a general understanding of theories and such with the hope that you'll be able to apply them to your real life play. The problem this creates is that while I'm trying to wrap my brain around all of these strategies, some of which include math and game theory that is fairly complicated (I am but a humble writer), I'm also trying to follow along with the example scenarios presented in the books to show how the strategies work. Then the author will try and mention every variation on those examples, further jumbling the information I'm reading. It's like double exponential homework for my brain. Then, when I finally get to a poker table, I'm busy trying to figure out if the situation I'm in is similar to an example I saw in a book and I forget the math/game theory side of it or vice-versa. Honestly, I think it's caused a slight regression in my game.
This summer, however, I discovered something truly amazing: The Live Stream.
The geniuses at ESPN and the WSOP decided to live stream Main Event action and have a well-known poker pro do commentary on the action. This is also around the same time that I began a Twitter account, so there may have been numerous live streams of many tournaments prior to the WSOP, but I didn't know about them.
The benefit of the live stream is that a poker player can watch the action (what would be an "example" in a book) and listen to a poker pro (the "author") analyze the hands as they progress. This is truly great for someone like me who doesn't really have a math brain. I'm much better at applying things I learn when I see them in front of me rather than trying to create a scenario in my head and play it out.
One particular hand I remember involved Olivier Busquet(@olivierbusquet) doing the commentary. He talked about what the action at the table meant in relation to each players' range of possible hands. As the hand progressed through the flop, turn and river, he constantly adjusted his thinking, just as if he were at the table himself. By the end of the hand, he had deduced that the player in the small blind had pocket sixes and had flopped a set. Then when the showdown came...BOOM!...Busquet had nailed it.
I continued watching the WSOP coverage with Busquet, Antonio Esfandiari(@MagicAntonio), and Phil Hellmuth(@phil_hellmuth) and constantly learned more and more. Then during the fall I read that the WPT would be live-streaming the final table of their Foxwoods stop. This live stream was manned by Tony Dunst(@Bond_18), Nick Brancato(@NickyNumbers) and Jonathan Little(@JonathanLittle), and again, I was blown away by the comprehensive analysis they provided. Then my feelings about watching a live stream were cemented during ESPN's broadcast of the November Nine, with Esfandiari in the booth.
This is such a revelation in poker viewing. To be able to get walked through a poker hand and get shown how you have to adjust your thinking each step of the way and how you can influence how your opponent thinks about you is the greatest thing since Super System. With the books that I've read giving me a good strategy base, I've been able to develop my game much more thoroughly by watching the live streams of final tables.
It is definitely the next evolution and revolution in my poker education.
While I've learned a lot from those books, I've discovered (something that is totally obvious, I suppose) that the books can't cover everything. They try and give you a general understanding of theories and such with the hope that you'll be able to apply them to your real life play. The problem this creates is that while I'm trying to wrap my brain around all of these strategies, some of which include math and game theory that is fairly complicated (I am but a humble writer), I'm also trying to follow along with the example scenarios presented in the books to show how the strategies work. Then the author will try and mention every variation on those examples, further jumbling the information I'm reading. It's like double exponential homework for my brain. Then, when I finally get to a poker table, I'm busy trying to figure out if the situation I'm in is similar to an example I saw in a book and I forget the math/game theory side of it or vice-versa. Honestly, I think it's caused a slight regression in my game.
This summer, however, I discovered something truly amazing: The Live Stream.
The geniuses at ESPN and the WSOP decided to live stream Main Event action and have a well-known poker pro do commentary on the action. This is also around the same time that I began a Twitter account, so there may have been numerous live streams of many tournaments prior to the WSOP, but I didn't know about them.
The benefit of the live stream is that a poker player can watch the action (what would be an "example" in a book) and listen to a poker pro (the "author") analyze the hands as they progress. This is truly great for someone like me who doesn't really have a math brain. I'm much better at applying things I learn when I see them in front of me rather than trying to create a scenario in my head and play it out.
One particular hand I remember involved Olivier Busquet(@olivierbusquet) doing the commentary. He talked about what the action at the table meant in relation to each players' range of possible hands. As the hand progressed through the flop, turn and river, he constantly adjusted his thinking, just as if he were at the table himself. By the end of the hand, he had deduced that the player in the small blind had pocket sixes and had flopped a set. Then when the showdown came...BOOM!...Busquet had nailed it.
I continued watching the WSOP coverage with Busquet, Antonio Esfandiari(@MagicAntonio), and Phil Hellmuth(@phil_hellmuth) and constantly learned more and more. Then during the fall I read that the WPT would be live-streaming the final table of their Foxwoods stop. This live stream was manned by Tony Dunst(@Bond_18), Nick Brancato(@NickyNumbers) and Jonathan Little(@JonathanLittle), and again, I was blown away by the comprehensive analysis they provided. Then my feelings about watching a live stream were cemented during ESPN's broadcast of the November Nine, with Esfandiari in the booth.
This is such a revelation in poker viewing. To be able to get walked through a poker hand and get shown how you have to adjust your thinking each step of the way and how you can influence how your opponent thinks about you is the greatest thing since Super System. With the books that I've read giving me a good strategy base, I've been able to develop my game much more thoroughly by watching the live streams of final tables.
It is definitely the next evolution and revolution in my poker education.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Jealousy In The Poker Room
I consider myself a humble man. I don't feel any sense of entitlement in any part of my life. I understand that you can achieve whatever you want if you're willing to work hard enough for it.
But when I frequent my local card room, I feel this pang of jealousy whenever I see this one person.
I began playing poker about eight years ago. At the time, Colorado Gaming only allowed for $5 max betting in any game in a casino, including poker. As a result, there were two kinds of poker games to play: a $2/$5 game with a single $2 blind and a $5/$5 game with a $2 small blind and a $5 big blind (This game was NUTS. The betting would routinely get capped six ways pre-flop by the crazy Asians playing this game. And I mean no disrespect; I'm just stating a fact. There were mostly Asians playing this particular game and based on the betting and raising that was happening, they were fucking crazy.). Because I was a novice, I stuck to the $2/$5 game.
And of course I started getting familiar with a lot of the players and dealers. One player in particular caught my attention because it was a woman and women were pretty scarce in the poker room. I played with her on more than one occasion and it was obvious that she was a newbie like me.
Over the years I've seen her at various casinos, either playing in a tournament or a cash game.
Just over two years ago, Colorado Gaming pulled their proverbial head out from in between their buttocks and raised the gaming limits to $100 max bet on all games. This included poker, and the casinos now run games from $4/$8 limit to $1/$2/$100 cap "no limit" to $30/$60 limit, in addition to any number of tournaments.
What recently caught my attention is that this unnamed female is spending a lot of time in the same poker room at me. At the $30/$60 game. A game that routinely has between $15,000 and $25,000 in chips on the table at any one time. With the crazy Asians.
And I'm stuck grinding away at $4/$8. And I'm jealous.
It's very obvious to me that she's worked on her poker game. That's the only way she could have built the sort of bankroll it takes to play in that game. Over the last eight years, she's studied and put in the practice and hard work to improve her poker game.
It's study and practice I really wish I had put in. Then maybe I wouldn't be stuck in the same job I was in back then. Then maybe I could be playing in the big game with the crazy Asians.
I decided last year to finally put in the work and practice it would take to become a professional poker player. I got a couple books. I played a couple tournaments pretty well and had a few small cashes. But I'm still not there. Little things get in the way of that pursuit; you know, things like work and bills and rent and food.
Anyway, I think that this jealousy can only be a good thing, really. That woman's development as a poker player is evidence that hard work and practice will work and that I can still improve my poker game significantly. And it's probably a good thing that I see her in that game every time I go play. She's a constant reminder of what I want to become.
Her and those damn crazy Asians.
But when I frequent my local card room, I feel this pang of jealousy whenever I see this one person.
I began playing poker about eight years ago. At the time, Colorado Gaming only allowed for $5 max betting in any game in a casino, including poker. As a result, there were two kinds of poker games to play: a $2/$5 game with a single $2 blind and a $5/$5 game with a $2 small blind and a $5 big blind (This game was NUTS. The betting would routinely get capped six ways pre-flop by the crazy Asians playing this game. And I mean no disrespect; I'm just stating a fact. There were mostly Asians playing this particular game and based on the betting and raising that was happening, they were fucking crazy.). Because I was a novice, I stuck to the $2/$5 game.
And of course I started getting familiar with a lot of the players and dealers. One player in particular caught my attention because it was a woman and women were pretty scarce in the poker room. I played with her on more than one occasion and it was obvious that she was a newbie like me.
Over the years I've seen her at various casinos, either playing in a tournament or a cash game.
Just over two years ago, Colorado Gaming pulled their proverbial head out from in between their buttocks and raised the gaming limits to $100 max bet on all games. This included poker, and the casinos now run games from $4/$8 limit to $1/$2/$100 cap "no limit" to $30/$60 limit, in addition to any number of tournaments.
What recently caught my attention is that this unnamed female is spending a lot of time in the same poker room at me. At the $30/$60 game. A game that routinely has between $15,000 and $25,000 in chips on the table at any one time. With the crazy Asians.
And I'm stuck grinding away at $4/$8. And I'm jealous.
It's very obvious to me that she's worked on her poker game. That's the only way she could have built the sort of bankroll it takes to play in that game. Over the last eight years, she's studied and put in the practice and hard work to improve her poker game.
It's study and practice I really wish I had put in. Then maybe I wouldn't be stuck in the same job I was in back then. Then maybe I could be playing in the big game with the crazy Asians.
I decided last year to finally put in the work and practice it would take to become a professional poker player. I got a couple books. I played a couple tournaments pretty well and had a few small cashes. But I'm still not there. Little things get in the way of that pursuit; you know, things like work and bills and rent and food.
Anyway, I think that this jealousy can only be a good thing, really. That woman's development as a poker player is evidence that hard work and practice will work and that I can still improve my poker game significantly. And it's probably a good thing that I see her in that game every time I go play. She's a constant reminder of what I want to become.
Her and those damn crazy Asians.
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