From the Desk of the Poker Philosopher

I've been wanting to improve my trickiness/creativity on the river, and in particular I think I need to add more checkraise bluffing into the mix. I like being able to check-raise the river for value, just because there are situations where that's the best option. However, if my river check-raises are never bluffs, well that's clearly a problem. At the stakes I play, most people are pretty straight-forward, and if you get checkraised on the river, you can count on getting shown a big hand. I don't like the idea of being that predictable and easy to play against.

The complication is that the river check-raise bluff really works best to punish people who value bet thin on the river, but the average player at 2/4 or 3/6 NL is not very good at making thin river value bets. That means I don't get a lot of practice with this play.

My River Check-Raise Bluff

I'm afraid I don't remember a lot of details for this hand, but I called a raise out of the blind with a suited connector type hand and flopped a flush draw on an Ace-high flop. I checked and called a moderate bet.

A Q on the turn put a second flush draw and also a few straight draws on the board. I checked, and my opponent checked also. With so many draws on the board, it's suicidal to check any kind of strong hand there, so I figured him to have either a draw of his own or a pretty marginal made hand that wanted a cheap showdown.

The river blanked, and I checked again. At this point, I wasn't planning a check-raise bluff. But then my opponent bet $40 into an $80 pot, which looked like a value bet from a weak Ace or the like. Straightforward players value bet bigger with bigger hands, because the kinds of hands they expect to pay them off can call larger bets. At least that's how it goes in second level thinking poker world.

So when he bet half pot, I figured him for a weak Ace at best. Thin value bet? I raise. I made it $140. After a few seconds, he called me with AQ for turned two pair. Pretty terrible turn check, but it worked to his advantage here by inducing my bluff. To the extent that I'm representing anything, it's a random two pair, so I certainly would not expect him to fold top two. I just didn't think he was that strong.

I Get Check-Raise Bluffed

With a wild image, I raise to $14 with Js9s on the CO. A loose and super-passive player calls from the SB. His post-flop aggression, according to Poker Tracker, is 0.55. The flop is a very nice 7h 8h Tc, giving me the nuts. Fishy checks and calls a healthy bet.

The turn, unfortunately, is the 6h. He checks, and this time I check also, though in retrospect betting here is probably better.

A river T pairs the board, giving Villain yet another way to beat me. He checks, though, so I value bet $60 my nut straight. If I'm lucky, he'll have a 9 to pay me off. Unfortunately, he raises to $160. Double-checking the dude's aggression stats, I insta-fold. He shows me KQo. I have no idea what possess him to do that, but I definitely got owned thoroughly. Good example of punishing a thin value bet I guess.

Labels: poker, poker strategy, session review

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I'm very fortunate that Bond18 from 2+2, who had been dominating online tournaments lately as milwkid on Poker Stars and muckthenuts on most other sites, has chosen a hand history that I submitted to him as one of the ones he will review. Basically he put out an open call for anyone interested to send him a HH, and he would look it and start a thread on 2+2 with his thoughts on how you played various hands. The encourages other players to chime in with questions and comments as well, which is a great way to review and improve your own play.

This is the thread in question. The hand history in question is from a deep finish in the first $200 event of the Full Tilt Online Poker Series. Please take a look and add your comments!

Labels: poker

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You may have noticed that I've updated the links section in the left sidebar. In particular, I've added some good blogs that I've started reading and deleted a few that hadn't been updated in ages. This isn't in any way a sleight to the authors of those blogs, who in some cases are great players, I just didn't want to keep around links to stuff that isn't updated regularly.

On that note, if you have a poker blog and would like to exchange links, I'm happy to do so. Please leave me a comment with your URL.

Ed Miller, author of 2+2's "Winning Small Stakes Hold 'Em" and co-author of "No Limit Hold 'Em: Theory and Practice", had an interesting puzzle in his blog, Noted Poker Authority. The game is called "Hidden Outs". He gives you two Texas Hold 'Em hands and a turn board. Your task is to identify how many river cards allow the currently losing hand to draw out to a win or a chop. I took the quiz on high alert for tricky situations and still managed to make some kind of error on half of the problems.
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When checking out the 2/4 NL games on FTP today, I saw that Full Tilt pro Lynette Chan was playing on several of them. I didn't really know anything about her, but with a few very important exceptions (Phil Ivey, Patrik Antonius), FTP pros tend not to be particularly good cash game players. More importantly, a lot of bad players join games they wouldn't otherwise play just so they can sit with a pro. So, I joined some waiting lists and quickly got on a few of her tables.

I'm still in my uber-aggressive phase, and I got the impression that Lynette noticed this early on. We played two substantial pots together, and after both she made vaguely critical comments in the chat box, even though I thought my play was pretty standard.

In the first, I raised 8d 7d to $14 from the CO, and she called out of her BB. She checked and called a pot-sized bet on a Qh 8s 5s flop. I don't think there are a lot of Q's in her pre-flop range, and having watched her play a bit, I felt she would check-raise the flop if she had one, so I thought a draw was her most likely holding.

The turn was the Jc, and we checked through. The river was something else pretty non-threatening, and she bet like $55 into an $80 pot. I called, and sure enough she had As 7s for a busted flush draw. She had played the hand exactly like a draw, and I was geting good odds to call the river, so it seemed like a fairly straightforward call to me, but she typed "????" in the chat box.

"I can read your soul," I responded.

A while later, possibly on a different table, I raised to $14 with 9d 8d, and she re-raised to $40 out of her BB. I'd seen her make this same size re-raise with AQo, so although this tiny reraise from certain players is usually an overpair, I figured her range to be wider than that.

The flop was Kd 8s 6h. She bet at it, which she didn't do with the AQ when she whiffed, but she had position in that hand. I called. A Td on the turn gave me a gut shot and a flush draw and made it easier for me to call her bet of $120 into a pot of about $190. She had $225 or so behind, and I considered shoving on her, but I had most of the draws on the board and didn't think she would fold many, if any, hands that beat me, so I just called.

The river was a blank, she thought for a while before checking, and I checked behind. She showed 87s, and we split the pot. Immediately I regretted not shoving the turn, but that might be results oriented.

"Really??" she typed.

"Right, you obviously had a set of Kings. You were lucky to get half," I told her.

This isn't the first time I've seen FTP pros behave kind of obnoxiously in chat. Mike Matusow is famous for it. It's not really a big deal, but as they are kinda like role models for online poker players and certainly are representing the site, I think that Full Tilt ought to rein them in a bit. I really don't like how many online poker players are complete assholes in chat, and it certainly doesn't help that these pros are setting a bad example.

(By the way, this is just a broader point. It's not like Lynette said or did much of anything, she was just vaguely critical of my play. It still struck me as kind as kind of immature and petty for someone who's supposed to be representing the site.)

Labels: poker, poker strategy, session review

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I played a few tables of 2/4 NL last night while finishing off the last tournament of a block I started in the early afternoon. I ran into another player who was intent on playing mediocre hands out of position against me, so I took the opportunity to experiment with some creative/aggressive lines and thin value bets.

The first confrontation we had, I opened for pot ($14) from the CO with Qh Jc, and he called in the SB. On a 9s 3c 2c flop, he checked and called a $24 bet.

The turn was the Ad, a good card for a second barrel. He checked and called $52. I didn't put him on Ace, at least not a good one, and figured he could easily have a smaller pocket pair, a 9, or even a draw. He checked a 6s on the river, and I bet $120 into a $181 pot. My intent was to represent a value bet with a hand like AQ or AK. He tanked and folded suspciously.

The next orbit, I opened As Qs for $14 from the Button, and he called out of his BB. I was pretty sure I was good on a flop of 9h 9d 2d, and bet $18, which he called.

The turn was the Kc, and I saw no reason not to bet again, it probably didn't hit him, and as he'd seen me bet a scare card in our last confrontation, I thought there was a good chance he would make a mistaken call. He checked and called $40.

He checked a 6h river, I checked behind, and his Ac 7c was no good. I made a comment along the lines of, "Guess I missed a river bet."

The very next hand, I open raised to $14 with Kd Qd. This time the Button called, and my friend called from his SB. Figuring to have no fold equity against both of them, I checked a 9h 4s 8d flop, and it checked through.

The 7d turn gave me a flush draw plus the possibility of representing straights on the river. There was even a chance the bet was a semi-bluff and I had the best hand. My buddy in the SB bet $32, I called, and the Button folded.

A Ts river put 789T on the board. This actually wasn't the best scare card for me, though, as it filled only the low end of the straight or a gut shot at the top. A 6 or a J would have been better. SB checked, which told me he had a hand with showdown value. I knew that he expected me to bluff this card and was looking to snap me off. I was also pretty sure that he knew I knew that. Mostly out of curiosity, I hit the bet pot button and fired $110. SB tanked and finally called me at the last second with Tc 8c. It was a good call by him and most likely a 'bad' bet by me. I was mostly curious to play with this nth level thinking dynamic, even though the current metagame made this not a profitable spot for a blatant river bluff. This also showed the guy that playing out of position against me was not going to be a walk in the park, which I'm not sure is a message I wanted to send. I'm pretty sure it's a good situation for me when he's check calling Ace-rag unimproved on two streets.

He definitely did back off after this and stopped defending his blinds so much. I played a few pots aggressively against others at the table, once 4-betting all in with T8s that flopped a flush draw on a 722 flop to win it right there, and once 4-betting KK pre-flop with 150 BB effective stacks. I was prepared to call a shove, but I might have been in bad shape had that happened, as the guy claimed to have folded QQ.

My last big pot with my nemesis actually occurred when he was in position. I raised Kc Th UTG, he called from the CO, and the BB called. The flop was Qd 3h 2c, a very good board for a continuation bet. Although they are harder to pull off, c-bets into multiple callers also tend to get more respect for that reason. In other words, each individual player is less likely to call you than he would be in a heads up pot, but the combined odds of at least one of them calling is higher.

Anyway, I potted it for $44, and my friend called. He had $642 to start the hand, and I covered. The only way he could really be strong on this board was with 33 or 22, as I was pretty sure he would have reraised QQ pre-flop, so I was prepared to triple barrel him. However, a Ts on the turn improved me to a likely best hand and slowed me down. In retrospect, I'm not sure it was a good idea, as it made it kind of obvious that I had something, but I checked the turn, and he checked behind.

The river 5c was a safe card for me. After potting the flop and checking the turn, it's very unlikely that I would bluff the river. My line looks exactly like pot control with a likely best one pair hand, which is what it was. However, having shown the guy that I could bluff in spots where I knew my line would look like a bluff, I elected to go ahead and bet pot and see what happened. He folded pretty quickly to my $132 bet. It's hard to say what he had, quite possibly something like A-high that would have folded the turn anyway, but I'm still not sure the turn check was good. Oh well, it was an interesting and profitable session of experimenting with some more aggressive lines.

Labels: poker, poker strategy, session review

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Full Tilt has had a Beta version of its software available with resizable tables for some time, but it's now been officially released. This might seem like good news for someone who plays up to eight tables of poker at once, as this will make it easier to fit them on my screens, but the truth is that there's a pretty substantial downside for me. Other strong players, some of whom play even more tables than I do, can now play more tables more easily on Full Tilt.

Party Poker was the first offer resizable tables, followed relatively quickly by Poker Stars. When Party closed its doors to US players, most of the people who wanted to play 12+ tables started playing on Stars. You can imagine that with very good players playing so many tables, it was sometimes tough to find a good game at Stars.

Full Tilt, on the other hand, continued to have relatively easier games, in no small part because they were not 'polluted' by the same good players sitting at every table. So while I am looking forward to being able to play a lot of tables without overlap, I could fit them all fairly well on my two monitors as it was, and I am a little concerned about the games getting more difficult at Full Tilt in the near future.

Still, this was something a lot of people had been asking for for some time, and Full Tilt deserves credit for responding to its players' requests.

Labels: poker

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If you haven't already, you should check out this article from Phil Galfond (2+2's Jman, one of the best NLHE players online) in the latest issue of Bluff magazine. It's an excellent discussion of how to think in terms of ranges of hands and how mixing up your range can make life hell for an opponent. The one thing that I think he could have made a bit clearer is that you make G-Bucks with ranges, not with particular hands. So it's not a question of what is a river bet with AA worth in $G-bucks, it's what is a river bet with {AA, whiffed AK, set, whiffed flush draw}, for example, worth in $G-bucks. The inclusion or exclusion or hands within the range affects the EV of every other hand in the range, which is why you need to consider the range as a whole and not just individual pieces of it.

I'd also like to see more discussion of dynamic ranges and how history, metagame, and table conditions influence these ranges. In my experience, it is not so simple as to say, "X great player has a betting range of 25% AA, 35% set, 40% bluff in this situation", because his bluff and value-betting frequency will be affected not just by the board and action on previous streets but also by his current table image and how the game has been playing.

Labels: poker, poker strategy

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I woke around 6 AM this morning so that I'd have time to shower, eat, and make the two hour drive to Foxwoods and arrive by 9AM. Though the $2,000 tournament didn't start until 9, I needed to get a Wampum Rewards card (lost my old one) and register, and I didn't know what to expect in terms of lines, etc. That turned out to be more time than I needed, so I had about twenty minutes to kill.

My starting table was ridiculous: one guy with a WSOP bracelet (from 1974, not sure which event, but he was a good NLHE player- Mike Seca (sp?) was his name), guy who won two prelim events and final tabled the main event at Foxwoods last year, three other pros who are talking about a 50/100 NLHE game they all played together at Commerce recently, and a few other solid players.

There was only one weak spot at the table, but he was pretty weak, way too loose and aggressive. I didn't realize just how bad he was until he bet 1500 on the river on a JJ844 board and pushed over a min-raise with 74.

Most of the table was pretty quiet and unremarkable, but there were two notable exceptions. Sitting to Mike Seca's immediate left was an Italian guy from Long Island dressed in a running suit with some flashy jewelry and slicked back hair. He spent the first three hours of the tournament text messaging patrons of his underground poker club and loudly (often humorously) teasing Mike. The two seemed to know each other quite well and were talking about 10K tournaments they had played together around the country.

Despite his appearance and demeanor, the Long Island guy turned out to be a pretty tight player. He talked like a professional player, though some of the things he occasionally said made me think his theoretical grasp of the game was slightly lacking. I may have been able to take advantage of that had I lasted long enough for the blinds to get big, but alas, it was not to be.

The first interesting hand was at the 25/50 level, the first we played. The whole table has been pretty tight, and I have most of my 7K starting stack and a tight image. The weak player limps UTG, last year's final tabler limps, internet pro limps, and I make it 300 with AA on the button. The soft spot folds, and the other two call.

Flop 883r. First to act checks, the internet pro bets 350, I make it 1000, other guy folds, IP calls. My thinking was that this would look weaker than a call, but I'm not sure in retrospect that was a good idea.

Turn 6r. Check, check. Still trying to entice action from a worse hand. I don't know a lot about this guy, so although I'd have to fold to a turn check-raise, I would like it.

River 4, he bets 2700, which is basically pot. We both have a little over 5K. After thinking for over a minute, I folded. Basically, I felt that with the pre-flop action, he couldn't have the kind of one pair hand that would look to value bet this river. Given the size of his raise, he's clearly not blocking with a medium-strenght holding. So he's either bluffing or he can beat AA. And it would be a weird spot to bluff, after leading the flop and calling a raise. I felt it was kind of obvious that I had a big pair, and I didn't think he expected me to fold it.

The only other interesting hand I had was the one where I busted. A new player had just moved to the table with a big stack. He seemed to be a solid, tight aggressive player. With blinds 100/200/25, he raised to 700 UTG+1. It folded to me in CO-1, where I found AKo with an awkward stack of about 8000.

Holding AK here, I really have two conflicting goals: getting action from worse hands, which would mean not reraising, and folding out small pairs and other holdings that have nearly 50% equity against me, which would mean reraising. A few factors tipped me towards calling. First, I was in position, which would hopefully allow me to make some better decisions on future streets. Second, with a below average but healthy stack, I'd prefer to frequently lose a small pot (when I miss) and occasionally win a big one (when I flop well against a dominated hand) rather than often win a medium one (when I take it down preflop) and sometimes lose a big one (when I get it in preflop against KK or AA). Last and most importantly, the bad player was in the BB and had just lost a lot of his chips. I felt he would tilt-shove quite frequently, which would be the best way for me to get my money in preflop against a wide range of hands.

This is what happened: I called the raise, BB shoved for 2000, UTG+1 made it 3500, I shoved, he called with Q's, the board came out 55678 to eliminate me, and, miraculously, triple up the donkey, who had K9.

I was tired and sick and not in the mood to play any more poker, so I got right back in the car and drove home to Boston. Lame, I know. At least I got to hand out with Richard Shorten (Shorty55 from 2+2), who is a cool guy and good internet buddy. I'll see him again in Vegas, if he gets his act together and wins a WSOP seat.

Labels: narrative, poker, poker strategy, session review, trip report

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Saturday was the fourth Boston Debate League tournament of the 2006-07 season, the last before our two-day City Championships event. It got off to a rocky start. I had to bring coffee, donuts, awards, a computer, and a printer with me, which meant that I had to borrow my girlfriend’s car and drive to Dorchester, where the tournament was held.

Driving in the Boston area is something that I usually avoid, and with good reason. Streets rarely run in a straight line for more than a few blocks, and they are known to change names or make sudden turns such that by going straight, you might leave Cambridge Street and end up on Dorchester Avenue. If you were later to find a road called "Cambridge Street", it might not be the same road you left, as you may have crossed into Cambridge, Somerville, Medford, or another neighboring city that re-uses street names Boston has already used for other streets. That, of course, assumes you find a sign at an intersection at all.

An intersection might well be the convergence of six roads, two of which come to an end, one of which changes names, and one of which doubles back on itself at a two hundred degree angle. Needless to say, when there are signs at all, they are a confusing maze of circles and arrows that cause motorists to slam on their breaks and veer suddenly across three roads of traffic. It’s a delight.

After picking up five dozen donuts, twenty-five Munchkins, and three Boxes o’ Joe from the local Dunkin’ Donuts, I began what should have been a twenty-minute drive to the Dorchester Education Complex. Armed only with Google Maps directions, I arrived forty-five minutes later to find a handful of students, one volunteer judge, and one of the teachers from the Academy of Public Service (our host school), standing around outside. "I take it you aren’t just enjoying the fresh air?" I asked them.

Dan, the teacher, shook his head mournfully. "I just called the headmaster, he’s going to be here in a few minutes." Fortunately, it was a nice day, already in the fifties at 8AM and sunny. I broke out the coffee and donuts, only to find that Dunkin’ Donuts had not given me cups, cream, sugar, or napkins. A lot of coffee was about to go to waste.

A few minutes later, Zac, the headmaster, showed up to let us in the building. In my five years of working around urban education, I’ve rarely met anyone as capable and dynamic as Zac. He took over as headmaster when Dorchester High School, with the help of a Gates Foundation grant, broke down into three small schools inside the same building. One of those schools, the Academy of Public Service, got off the ground just one year before the Boston Debate League, and was still searching for its identity. To my delight, I learned that Zac wanted to build the school around forensics and public speaking, and we had several conversations about how debate might fit into that vision.

I’ve never seen a headmaster as committed to his school’s debate team. Despite working what are probably sixty hour weeks, he comes to all of our competitions, walks around to watch all of our students debate, stops to talk to me about his school and the direction of the League, and as a member of the Boston Debate League’s Advisory Board, does what he can to advocate for and promote our organization.

The results of his commitment and dedication are plain to see. The Academy of Public Service, despite its geographical location in what is derogatorily known as ‘Dumbchester’ among Boston youth, has the largest and one of the most competitive teams in the League. They’ve got a great coaching staff who certainly deserve a lot of the credit, but Zac’s fingerprints can be seen as well. He treats the debate team as a component of the school culture that is every bit as important as the football or basketball teams. He buys embroidered vests for the team, prominently displays their trophies in a case in the hallway and in his office, and meets with them all individually every week.

This isn’t necessarily a replicable model. Zac is a young, charismatic, deeply caring black man. All of those characteristics help him to relate to his students in ways that other headmasters, no matter how competent and well-intentioned, might not be able to do. But what he does works, and his team is better off for it.

Once I’m inside the building, it’s time to tackle the next problem. The coach of each team submits to me on the Wednesday prior to a tournament the names of the students who will be competing for her school. As you might guess, however, there’s quite a bit of variation between the students registered on Wednesday and the students who show up on Saturday morning. For instance, I was still trying to find the school when I got a call from a coach telling me not one of the five students she had registered would be competing today.

Then there are other students who don’t show up, or show up late, or show up but were not registered on Wednesday. Technically, I am supposed to turn all of these students away. But our participation has been low enough this year that I can’t afford to do that, so I delay the start of the first round (our schedule has time built into it for just such delays) and redo the schedule that I put together last night. The only reason I bother doing it the night before is so that I will have something to work with in the event that my computer breaks or we’re locked out of the building for over an hour in the morning or anything else catastrophic happens.

We finally get the first of three debate rounds underway about fifteen minutes after their scheduled start time. A debate round consists of two students from one school arguing against two students from another school for nearly ninety minutes while a volunteer evaluates their efforts and chooses a winner at the end. Many of our volunteers are college debaters or former high school debaters now in college, which presented a problem, as many universities are on Spring Break this weekend.

There was a silver lining, however, in that this forced me to reach out to some new sources of volunteers who had not worked with the League before. In particular, we got two black students from Boston University Law School, one of whom had eight years of debate experience between high school and college! Of course we appreciate any volunteers we get, but I’m always conscious of the fact that so many of the coaches, judges, and administrators, myself included, are white, while so many of the debaters are not. It definitely helps to dispel common myths and stereotypes about debate when we have more diversity among our adult employees and volunteers.

On a similar note, I was glad to have back as a volunteer judge an alumnus from the very first season of the Boston Debate League. Two years after graduating from high school, Chris is pursuing a BS in Culinary Arts at Johnson and Wales College. I called him largely out of the blue because Zac had invited some important people from Boston Public Schools to the tournament and wanted to have some alumni from the League for them to meet. In particular, he said, they would want to meet young black males, a key demographic in urban politics.

I hadn’t seen Chris in two years, and frankly one thing I’ve learned from putting this League together over the last few years is that even people whom you’d expect to be very reliable often fail to come through for you in crucial ways. So I was happily surprised when he immediately agreed to drive up from Rhode Island for the afternoon. Although in my opinion a former debater in the League ought to feel some responsibility to help out after graduating, this has generally not been the case, and in fact I’ve had a lot of difficulty staying in touch with our alumni. I was really touched that Chris was willing to go to such great effort with so little prompting. It’s so rare that you find people who really will come through in a pinch, and I have great respect for anyone who does.

Chris wasn’t able to make it in time for the first round, but was happy to judge the second and then be on hand to speak with any dignitaries who came. The only guest we ended up having was a woman invited by me, not Zac, but because she was the vice-president of the Boston Schools Committee, she was quite an important guest. I told Chris she was around and he told me he’d seek her out and schmooze her.

I found the two of them watching the same debate and went to introduce them. Before I could say anything, Chris blatantly pointed at her and said, "Is this that lady you wanted me to talk to?" Subtle. They seemed to hit it off well, though, and I think she was generally impressed with what she saw. She stuck around for the awards ceremony and announced some of our winners, so we were able to get a lot of good pictures of her with our debaters.

The event was a little bittersweet for me because, since I won’t be at the City Championships (I need to take two of our debaters to a national competition in Atlanta the same weekend), this was the last time I may see some of the debaters there. I didn’t make a big deal out of it, because that’s not my style, but I did wish them all well and tell them how proud I was.

That’s no exaggeration, either. There are few things that people fear more than public speaking. Jerry Seinfeld tells a joke that, since public speaking is America’s number one fear and death is number two, most people, if at a funeral, would prefer to be in the coffin than giving the eulogy. I’m thoroughly impressed by any high school student, especially one from a school, home, and/or neighborhood culture where academic pursuits are sometimes discouraged, who is willing to join her school’s debate team and share her opinions in public.

Labels: boston debate league, narrative, personal, race

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Since I'm going to be getting up early tomorrow and hopefully spending the entire day playing the $2K at Foxwoods, I decided to pass on playing the big Sunday tournaments today. Another consideration was that the Sunday Million on Poker Stars today was a $1000 buy-in, which I didn't really feel like shelling out. So I played the Sunday Warm-Up, which I don't usually play, and made it about 2.5 hours in before my AKs lost all in preflop to AT. Must be Sunday.

I did play some 2/4 NL and pulled off one bluff that made me pretty happy. There was a rather loose and aggressive player at one of my tables, his poker tracker stats were like 42/29. He was loose enough that I wasn't trying to make too many plays at him pre-flop, even though he was raising way more than his share of pots. Finally, a moderately fishy player open limped, the LAG potted it to $18, a pretty solid player called in the SB, and this looked like a good spot to squeeze. Holding KTo in the BB, I re-raised to $90.

The LAG could have quite a wide range of hands, and I wasn't really sure which he would fold to my raise, but I did think he would fold often enough to make my play profitable. As for the SB, I figured him for a good but not great hand, probably a medium pair that he wanted to play for set value. Assuming the LAG folded, SB would certainly not have the odds he needed to see a flop, so unless he decided I was making a play and shoved on me (which would be tough, as I hadn't done anything like this yet at the table), I figured I could count on him folding.

To my dismay, the LAG called, at which point the SB was getting much better odds and called as well. At this point, I was ready to be done with the hand. There was about $250 in the pot and only $350 or so in my stack, so there wasn't room to take another stab at the pot, not that I would want to with two callers anyway. The flop of J44 was no help to me, but no one else bet at it either.

An A turned, and the SB checked to me again. I checked, but I go to thinking. SB will pretty much never have an A in this situation (and pretty much always a medium pair, I think). Good players just don't play so loose passive with a hand like AK or AQ, and if he had KK+, we definitely would have heard about it preflop.

The LAG was the wild card, but again I thought it somewhat unlikely he would show up with an Ace here. Certainly it wasn't impossible, but it's more likely that he decides pre-flop whether I've got the monster I'm representing, in which case he folds, or that I'm full of it, in which case the pot is plenty large for him to come back over the top. Although he could and probably sometimes does call with an A there, it's not that likely. He checked the turn as well, though I wouldn't expect him to bet an A on such a dray board, so that didn't clarify matters.

The river was another J, making the board AJJ44. SB checked to me, and I thought it through. With $250 in the pot, a bet of $200 needs to succeed less than 50% of the time to be profitable. I was very sure SB did not have an A or a J, and I figured there was a greater than 50% chance the LAG didn't either, so I bet the $200 and took it down. It is very, very rare for me to bluff the river in a re-raised pot against two opponents, but in this situation the board could only help a very narrow range of hands, and based on the pre-flop action, I was the person most likely to have such a hand.

Good night, and hopefully I'll have a great trip report from Foxwoods coming up soon!

Labels: poker, poker strategy, session review

Stumble It!

Got off to a good start in a bunch of stuff today but ended up cashing in nothing (well, I got my money back in the WSOP double shoot-out). I don't even really remember any interesting hands, I guess this one kind of was from the UB $100:

Blinds are 20/40, and because UB starts you with 2500 chips, stacks were still pretty deep. The button min-raises to 80, and I, holding AKs in the SB, hit the bet pot button to make it 260, then min-re-re-raises me to 440. This super fishy line is a big pair so often that I decided I would just call and see the flop. Possibly moving all in is a better play, but I just feel like such a moron shoving into AA when the guy has played his hand EXACTLY like AA.

So I call and the flop is rags, doesn't give me so much as a flush draw. I check, and the guys makes a really weird underbet, like 100 into a pot of 900. I call, because why not?

Turn is another blank, I check again, and again he grossly underbets. I'm starting to think my hand is good, and if it is, he's drawing to 3 outs. So, I call again.

An Ace rivers, I check, and this time he makes a larger bet, though still pretty small, but like 1/3 of the pot. It looks like I was right about him holding Ax, and now he's made top pair. There wasn't another broadway card on the board, so I'm not too worried about him holding two pair. I move in on him, and he calls with AT.

So many people have such transparent betting patterns that often you really can check for information. Instead of committing a lot of chips out of position in an unclear situation, check and see what he does. This works best against fairly bad players and in multiway pots.

Labels: poker, poker strategy, session review

Stumble It!

I found myself playing some 2/4 NL heads up games yesterday and really enjoying it. From time to time, I've gone through phases where I was really into heads up play. I think these are periods where I'm improving a lot as a poker player, because heads up really does force you to play poker. You can't come in with a fixed strategy and expect it to work with just a little tweaking the way you can in a tournament or a 6-max game. You really have to pay attention to your opponent, think on multiple levels, recognize and exploit his mistakes, etc.

It was particularly tricky for me because the first guy I played for a while was wildly loose aggressive, whereas my second prolonged session was against a really loose passive player. The latter was tougher to play against, though I actually lost more money to him. I don't have enough experience with heads up play to say for sure, but I felt like he was running really well, he seemed to flop top pair like every third hand.

There's not really a particular hand I want to look at so much as a strategy for dealing with loose and passive players. First off, I should say that he wasn't a giant fish or a calling station. It's not like he would pay off anything, but more that he recognized I was aggressive and made a lot of his money by checking and calling against me, sometimes with like middle pair.

It's tempting to say, "Just stop bluffing him!" but the truth is that I want him to pass the action to me all of the time. In the original Super/System, Doyle Brunson says that he'll continuation bet a small pair even when three overcards flop because his opponent will "be looking for me to bet... and I don't want to disappoint him. It would hurt my table image." (483)

When my opponent is checking everything to me: his trips, his top pairs, his middle pairs, his draws, I'm in control. I can decide how large I want the pot to be, I can take free cards when I want them, etc. This is particularly important in heads up play. So I keep firing when I have a hand and when I don't. The key is to balance this so that you aren't bluffing too much. Occasionally you'll pay him off, but sometimes he'll pay you off, and sometimes you'll make him fold the best hand.

When a guy is always check-calling his medium strength hands out of position, you have to punish him by occasionally firing more than one barrel. You can change it up by sometimes betting the turn and sometimes the river, but you can't let him see a cheap showdown every time he's out of position. This kills your two biggest strengths: your position and your status as the aggressor.

So just as an example of this, there was a hand where I had raised pre-flop, I don't even remember what I had, but the flop came out As Ks 3d. I had slowed down a bit recently and decided that I was going to keep firing at this board. It's a good board to pound on against a guy who is playing too many marginal hands out of position, as he's likely to hit but not hard. On the flop, he's definitely going to check and call any A and any K, but he'll fold almost all of those hands to heavy pressure. So I bet and he called, just as I suspected he would.

The turn was the 5s, and he check-folded to another bet. The third spade is a great card for me to bet because this opponent new I was capable of having a made flush, a good flush draw, or even just a good Ace. This is a very tough range for him to play against from out of position. Even with a good Ace of his own, he can't really check-raise me, because in order to price out my draw, he'd have to risk his whole stack if I did have a better made hand.

That's another value to aggression: your bet costs you only the amount that you bet, but especially when you have position, calling that bet might require your opponent to commit his entire stack to the pot. That kind of strategic imbalance is obviously very profitable.

Labels: poker, poker strategy, session review

Stumble It!

I had some Mandalay Bay chips that I forgot to cash in on Saturday, and since I needed to go there anyway, I decided to check out their game. The guy keeping the wait list when I first got there didn't seem to speak English very well, and I couldn't figure out whether there were actually NL games going or if I was just on an interest list.

I took a seat at a 4/8 limit game while I waited and was pleasantly surprised by the dealer, who took the time to explain to me a few things that, though I knew them, would have been useful had this been my first time playing poker at a casino. I guess a lot of inexperienced players start off in this game or something, but I definitely had some hiccups getting accustomed to things like moving chips over the betting line and would have appreciated more welcoming dealers when I was starting out.

Anyway, the game was predictably ridiculous, which meant I had to play super tight. The only decent hand I got, I raised a limper with TT, got 3-bet, the SB cold called, and I check-folded to a bet and a call on a QJx flop. The 3-bettor had 33 and the cold caller had QJ. Oh, and for some reason the blinds were $1 and $2 even though the bets were $4 and $8. I got bored and annoyed very quickly and kept darting up to check where my name was on the NL lists. The same guy, Josh W., was ahead of me for both 1/2 and 2/4 NL. Bastard.

The blind was about to hit me again when a woman starts calling for Josh W. I was praying that he won't respond and that she'll realize he's not responding before I have to post. The dealer was scrambling the cards from the previous hand when the floor woman tapped me on the shoulder. "Are you still interested in a seat at 2/4 NL?"

Guess it wasn't too hard to figure out that the guy who kept running over to check the list was the next guy on the list. "Most certainly."

She led me to my seat (another thing I liked about Mandalay Bay, the floor was much more hands on and helpful than what you get at, say, Foxwoods) and brought me my chips.

I could tell immediately that the game was good, very good. There was some big convention at Mandalay Bay, and several of the guys in the game were wearing business dress and badges, which was a good sign. In one of the first hands that I saw, a scuzzy looking dude in a dirty, faded sports cap raised a couple of limpers to $35 and got called in like six spots. Wow. Then he shoved roughly $300 on an AcQc3s flop. A guy two seats to my right calls, and the rest of the board falls Jd 6h. The pusher shows 9c7c for a busted flush draw, and the caller shows 8c6c for a worse flush draw that rivered a pair. Wowowow this was going to be a good game. And since this wasn't internet poker, the guy who just pulled off the ridiculous catch didn't get up and leave with his ill-gotten gains, but instead stayed at the table to my right with a giant stack. I set my sights on him immediately.

The first pot I played, there two limpers on my BB, I raised to $24 with KK and got one called. The flop was like 966, I bet $35 and got called. Ooooh, a K on the turn, I bet $75 and take it down.

I built myself all the way up about $1100, honestly without playing any pots worth mentioning here. The game was just that soft, and I suppose I was getting the right cards in the right situations. I did see two players give off blatant tells. The first one, I had TT on a JJ94 board after the flop had checked through. I bet and a huge calling station called me. I bet $75 on the river, and he moved all in for $74 more. While I was thinking, he looked over at the guy next to him and said, "It's time for me to leave anyway." I mucked and he showed me QJ.

The other pot didn't involve me, but the guy to my right was in the BB in a limped pot when the flop came out with three T's. The SB checked, and the BB exclaims really loudly, "What is that? I check," and rapped the table violently. I immediately figured him for quads. The flop checked through, and on the turn the SB bet. "You don't have anything, I call," the BB announced, quickly tossing his chips into the pot. Everyone else folded, the SB checked the river, and the BB slammed a stack of reds into the middle of the table, grossly overbetting the pot. The SB folded, and the BB proudly showed his quads.

This also reminds of a story I forgot to include yesterday involving Captain Calling Station. This old guy on my right was playing a pot out of position against CCS, and on the river the board was like AKQTx. The important part is that the river put the four straight on the board. Before the old guy had even acted, CCS eagerly bet like $90. The old man teased him about it. "You're that eager, huh? Can't even wait for me to act? Really excited about your straight, hmm?" It was very obvious to me, and, I thought, to everyone, that that was exactly what was going on. But the old man checked and called the bet anyway, and sure enough CCS showed him the straight.

After hours of trying to get into a big pot with the guy who couldn't fold a flush draw for any price, I finally got my chance. He raised to $15 after two limpers, which was kind of a small raise relative to what most people were doing. I didn't really know what to think of that, but it looked like it would certainly be a multi-way pot, so I called with Ks6s on the CO. Sure enough, seven of us saw a beautiful 8s 4s 2s flop.

The action checked to my mark, who bet $55. It was kind of a weak bet, but still a good sign that he had something, since no one continuation bets into five callers if he misses the flop completely. Then, the player immediately between the two of us moved all in for a little over $200. My read on him was that he was just in general way too eager to shove his stack into the middle, he had bought in kinda short and lost his chips twice already.

Although I was happy to see so much money going into the pot, this actually put me in kind of an awkward spot, because I was going to have to call this bet cold for almost 20% of my stack, which would make it very difficult to conceal the strength of my hand (raising was just too likely to kill my action, and I wanted to give someone behind me the chance to semi-bluff with the As or put me on a draw). So when I called, I tried make it sound as though the guy's over-aggressive shoving tendencies had something to do with it. "Alright, I'm gonna call you," I told him with sort of a chastising tone of voice, as though I were teaching him a lesson or giving him less credit than I otherwise would in this spot.

The action folded around to the fish, who also called. Between this action and the fact that he didn't even seem to consider a raise, I figured him for the As. I wasn't sure about what his other card was, and although it didn't affect his equity in the pot, I thought it might affect his turn action.

I held my breath and prayed for not-a-spade on the turn. The dealer showed us a black 9, but it turned out to be a club. My fish checked. There was now about $650 in the pot, and I had around $850 left in my stack. The fish had me covered. Against a good player, it might have been tricky to determine a good bet size here, but based on how I had seen this guy play his flush draw hours ago, I had fairly easy decision. "I'm all in."

The fish groaned and stood up. He looked down over the dealer's had at me as I stared emotionlessly at the felt. "What do you have? Do you have an 8?" Right, I'm shoving 200 BB's on the turn with middle pair. Good read. He went on like this for a minute and then turned over the As that I knew he had and stared at me for a while.

The all-in player called the floor and tried to get the fish's hand killed for exposing his card. The floor ruled that since nobody was left to act, he was allowed to show his card. The whole time, I was thinking of ways to keep him in the sidepot even if they killed his hand for the main pot. Perhaps I could feign moral outrage and tell the floor I didn't think that was fair and didn't want to win on a technicality and offer to let him play his hand in the main pot anyway. Thankfully I didn't need to resort to anything like this.

"You have nine outs," someone at the table said, quite inapproriately, though there was nothing I could do about it, and I knew it didn't really matter anyway.

"I think I've got more outs than that," the fish responded, flipping over his other card, the Jd. Wow, is this guy really looking to call off 200BB, a larger than a pot-sized bet, with a bare flush draw on the turn? Even if his other outs were live it would be an awful call.

"I call!" he suddenly announced with great excitement.

It occurs to me in retrospect that this was probably the largest pot I have ever played, in terms of number of BB's. There were well over 600 BB's in the pot, and you just don't get that deep at low- to mid-stakes online NL games, and certainly not in tournaments. The fact that I had gotten the money in as nearly a 6:1 favorite made it particularly exciting.

But I had didn't have much time to enjoy the moment, as the dealer quickly burned the top card from the deck and revealed the river: the Qs, the black mariah. My King-high flush had been overtaken by my opponents Ace. "Fuck!" I exclaimed, banging my fist on the table as my triumphant opponent pumped his in the air. This is not an uncommon reaction for me when I'm playing online in the comfort of my own home, but at casinos, I've generally tried to comport myself with more tact. I'm still not proud of how quickly frustration overtook me, though I did calm down almost immediately.

"That's one of the worst I've ever seen," said a gentlemen from North Carolina with whom I'd been friendly. I lifted my head from where I had allowed it to droop sullenly over what had been a mountain of chips just a moment before.

"Good playing with you," I told him. I was too frustrated to play my best any longer. In a live game, you spend hours building a stack, getting to know the players at your table, and trying to set up great situations like the one I'd just been in. It took about four hours between the time when I saw this guy make his first terrible call and when I finally got the opportunity to take advantage of that information to induce a much, much worse play on his part. And then he lucks out and wins anyway.

On my way out, I clapped him on the back and said, "Enjoy it," as genuinely as he could, and I hope he does enjoy it. I'm not spiteful, and it helps that I don't think he thinks he outplayed me or anything like that. He was there to gamble, like so many others in Vegas, and he was one of the lucky few who came out on top. Poker is the only game in the casino where the house lets the gamblers spew money to you rather than to them, and guys like this one have made me a boatload of money.

When some old lady drops a quarter into a slot machine and wins a six-figure jackpot, the casino doesn't cuss her out and tell her how lucky she was and what a terrible decision it was to play the slots. Instead, they celebrate, cheer for her, hang a picture of her smiling face on the wall. The occasional longshot win is what keeps them gambling, so I hope that he does enjoy his winnings, because in the long run, he'll probably donate them and much more back into the great poker economy. And in the end, I'm the lucky one, because I'm one of the very few who is able to take money out of this economy, enough money that I don't have to have a 9-5 job or a boss or a morning commute. I am the lucky one.

Labels: Las Vegas, narrative, personal, poker, poker strategy, session review, trip report

Stumble It!

Joe, Logan, and Darren all left on Sunday, which meant we had to check out of the Venetian. I was staying another night, but at the MGM, so the plan was for them to move all of their stuff into my room there. Since they didn't get in until like 8AM Sunday morning, Joe decided to crash for a few hours while I went to breakfast with Logan and Darren, both drunk. I enjoyed a pretty delicious Belgian waffle, watched them lose some money at craps (I don't play table games), and then talked by the pool with Darren while Logan nodded off on the chaisse lounge next to us.

The front desk had extended our check-out time to Noon, but Joe was still grumpy when we woke him up at 11:30. We had to wait in line to ensure we got our poker rate when we checked out, which took like twenty minutes. After that, there was a long line to get a cab at the Venetian. We confirmed with the driver that this is due to a terribly set-up taxi stand. Apparently the Venetian is constantly changing the layout so that drivers never know which lane they need to be in to pick up passengers and the whole thing turns into a giant mess. Apparently some drivers won't even make pickups at the Venetian for this reason.

I had no trouble checking into the MGM early, and for $70 (with poker rate), it was a great room. Though it was on the small side, it featured a great view of the strip, two very comfortable pillow-top beds, a large tub, and a nice TV.

Logan took a nap while the rest of us got lunch and played some cards. I got seated at a very loose passive 2/5 NL table. The only guy at the table who was at all aggressive was on my immediate right, and I played back at him a few times just to set a dynamic and keep him in line.

I picked up a fair number of chips in the early going by raising limpers, making continuation bets, etc. The first big pot I remember playing was against a guy I called (in my head) Captain Calling Station. He was a graying fifty-something, hefty but not fat, with a goatee that ruined any dignity that the first hints of wrinkles on his face might otherwise have brought him. He wore dark sunglasses (I immediately lose respect for anyone wearing sunglasses at a 2/5 cash game) low on his nose so that he could peer over them like a disapproving librarian when he was trying to get a read.

I'm pretty sure that most of the time, the only thing he was looking for was an excuse to call. Obviously that's where the Calling Station part came from. The Captain was because he looked like the kind of single guy who stands out on the deck of his boat with a beer in hand and a leather-skinned middle-aged woman in a sagging bikini on his arm. But he'd been calling a lot of my raises and continuation bets out of position, and I'd let him win more than one pot with a marginal hand.

A $100 tournament starting at 6PM had drained a lot of players out of the 2/5 games, and our table was in danger of breaking. The floorman told the dealer to stop raking the pot when we got five-handed, which I thought was cool as hell, but some others at the table were talking about quitting anyway. I started ramping up the aggression, so when everyone limped my button, I raised to $40 with K9o. Only the Captain called, and he check-called my bet on an A67 flop. Having decided to win I was going to win this pot or die trying, I was going to fire again on the turn, but then I hit my 9 and decided I'd check behind rather than risk a check-raise.

The river was a T, and Cappy checked again. I was pretty sure I couldn't win at showdown, but I had been meaning to try a bluff in a spot like this after observing how passive most liver players seem to be on the river. This was a major difference I noticed between live and online games, having seen live players check down some huge hands on the river (like the A4 full house from Saturday) on the assumption that, although they were probably good, worse hands would never call. Similarly, my river value bets were not getting paid off as often as I expected.

With this in mind, I bet $200 on the river, nearly the size of the pot. With no hesitation at all, CCS counted off $200 in chips, and for a second I thought he had called. I must not have looked too disappointed, though, because he stopped without putting them in the pot, played with them for a minute, and folded.

It was tempting to show him my bluff, since after all he was a calling station and I didn't plan to bluff him very often, but he seemed like the kind of guy who might be easily embarassed and/or enraged by something like that, so I just mucked and stacked the chips.

In the interest of saving our crumbling game, the floor asked if we wanted to change the stakes to 5/5 NL, for which there had been an interest list for hours. I was all for it, but the bigger stacks didn't want to cash out down to $1000, which I wouldn't have either in their shoes, so I didn't push the issue. They found us another player, set the max rake at $1, and we kept it going until the table filled up again.

Not long after, I finally stacked someone. I forget the exact action, I think maybe some people had limped my BB and I'd popped it with 55. Anyway I flopped a set and bet $100 on a K-high flop, $150 when the third heart came on the turn, and then shoved like $250 on the river. The guy mucked when I tabled my set, so I don't know what he had, and since the dealer was between him and me, I couldn't see his reaction, either. He proved to be a pretty big station, though, and since the players to my immediate right were some of the better ones at the table, I moved across the table to get to the left of the presumed fish at the first opportunity.

I should add at this point, because it becomes important later, that the woman who took my old seat looked to be in her early 60's, with a sweet face and the perfect little old lady vestments: a beige sweater with an oversized ceramic image of a cartoon mouse eating a block of cheese pinned a few inches below her left shoulder. Based solely on her appearance, I assumed she would essentially be a dead seat at the table. That is, she would play too tight to lose much and too predictably to take much from anyone.

To my right was another older woman named Barbara who told me she was one of the original dealers at Caesar's Palace back in the day. She seemed nice enough, but something about her, either the way she looked or dressed or carried herself, I'm not quite sure, made me think she was a little strange. Sure enough, after a bunch of limping, she suddenly opened raised to $40, got one call, overbet the pot on a 9 high flop, and got all in against AJs that flopped a flush draw. He turned the flush, and she whispered under her breath, "Dumb shit."

There was plenty more swearing where that came from, some at least seemingly playful, some of it downright spiteful and mean-spirited. She once called a raise to $25 from the sweeter old woman and check-folded KK face up on an A-high flop. The other woman turned over AA, and Barbara cried out, "I knew it, Mary, you little shit! That's why I didn't reraise you!"

That was the first time Mary raised, and she’d been at the table for over an hour. About an hour later, she raised again, and after one caller, I elected to call on the button with 65o, as Mary had about $600 in front of her and I covered.

As is my habit, I envisioned what kind of flop would allow me to win a big pot against what I was sure would be a big pair: certainly 347, but I’d be willing to call any reasonable bet on any flop that gave me so much as an open-ender. What about 66x? Would she figure me for calling a raise with a 6? Hard to say, but she’d have to lose something.

Then I envisioned the aftermath. This poor, sweet old woman sits patiently, socializing with friends and waiting for her pocket aces. She finally gets them, the holy grail of Texas Hold ‘Em, and she loses two months’ social security checks to a “bad beat” from some young hot shot who calls an early position raise with 6-5 offsuit. Is this really who I am? A guy who invests $15 in a garbage hand in the hopes of ruining this poor woman’s evening (maybe her month? This is the kind of bad beat story she might tell years into the future) and taking her money, money that could have been used for her grandson’s college education or her granddaughter’s orthodontia?

The flop came Q82, Mary bet and won the pot. She flipped over AQ suited and tipped the dealer.

Barbara also seemed really excited to know the floor people by name and was constantly calling on them for little favors, such as to announce an open seat at our table, give her a massage (this is the floor man, mind you, not a professional masseuse), or to move the whole table because her seat was in the aisle and kept getting run into. I offered to swith seats with her, as this would have put me closer to my fish, but she shot back kind of grumpily, "No, I want this one one!"

At first she seemed friendly with some of the regulars there, but after she got stacked again and left in a tizzy (unfortunately I forget the hand), everyone started talking about her. One of the floormen came over and said, "Whoever busted her, thank you."

Even sweet old Mary chimed in. "Ooooh, I do not like to play cards with her. She's as sweet as can be away from the card table, would do anything for you, but she gets in such a bad mood when she's playing poker. I have to show her my AA or she'll go on all night about how unlucky she was to get an Ace on the flop."

I unfortunately did not get to keep the fish's money for long. After a couple of limpers, I made it $40 out of the SB with AQs and two calls, including from the guy I previously stacked. I could now see more clearly that he was an oafish 30-something wearing a shirt that said OMW. I amused myself throughout the evening by thinking of things that could stand for. Anyway, the flop came out rags but gave me a flush draw. I bet $100 and OMW called.

If you flop a big draw and don't get the money in right away, the turn can be tough to play. We got an offsuit K, and I decided to fire again, both because this was a good card to represent and because even though I was committing myself to call an all in I could count on quite a few outs. So I bet $175, he moved in for his last $250 or so, and I obviously called and missed. He showed me KJo with no spade, meaning he had called the flop with nothing and turned a four-outer.

I tried not to show any frustration as I paid him off, but this got tougher to do when he muttered bitterly, "What goes around comes around."

My eyebrows shot up. "How's that?"

"You beat me and then I beat you."

"Mmmm," I grunted, pursing my lips and nodding. Right, I flop a set, you call me down with God knows what and lose your stack. Then you call me with air, catch a miracle turn card, and dodge twelve outs on the river. I can see how those are parallel situations.

Worst of all, he pretty much stopped playing pots with me after that. We played only three more of any significance. First, I raised AK from the BB, bet at a whiffed flop, and check-folded the turn. Then I raised KTs against his limp, bet when I flopped a gutshot with an Ace on the board, checked down the turn when I picked up a flush draw, and then overbet the nuts on the river. He folded suspiciously.

In the third one, I raised J0s against some limpers on my button, got two calls, and checked down an A-high flop. The turn gave me a gut shot and a flush draw, and once again two calling stations checked it to me. I wanted to bet badly, but I didn't think either of them would fold much of anything, nor was I confident that a bet now would lead to a big river bet getting paid off if I hit. So I checked again and rivered the flush. OMW led into me for $30 into a $75 pot. I thought about making $100 more, but decided for $120 instead. This time he paid me off with A2.

Suddenly, I was running really hot. On the next three hands, I picked up 99, KQs, and 99 again, twice picking up the blinds and several limps and once flopping set over set to stack a guy with like $300. The next orbit, I raised OMW's limp to $25 with JTs in LP. The button, who was sitting on very nice stack, made it $75, and the SB called cold (!). Priced in, I counted off $50 more and prayed for a big flop. What I got was the potentially tricky 982r.

The SB checked. To cold call a $75 reraise with $325 behind, he ought to have a monster, but that wasn't the vibe I was getting from him. More likely was that he was just another overly loose passive live player. Still, I didn't want to commit myself to getting it in versus him on the flop if it helped his hand, as I probably don't have more than 8 live outs.

If the button were smart and aggressive, he'd be re-raising me with a ton of hands given how aggressive I'd been this orbit. However, this was the first time in hours I'd been re-raised pre-flop. We both had nearly $900 behind, so I figured the best move would be to check and see what he does rather than getting blown off of eight outs to the nuts. With stacks of this depth, I may even be able to knock him off of an overpair at some point during the hand if I miss and get the right sense from him.

Anyway, the button checks also, which surprised me, and the turn is a beautiful Qs to give me the nuts and put a flush draw on the board. SB checked again, and now even though I thought it was unlikely that either opponent liked his hand much, I had to bet. There was barely $200 in the pot and I had a virtually unbeatable hand, so I needed to take a line that would allow me to put all $900 of my stack into play if the button liked his hand after all. I bet $200 and both players folded. Oh well.

One other kind of funny hand, this guy sat down to my right and bought in for the minimum of $200. After a few limpers he completed the SB and I checked T3s in the BB. Flop was 932 and gave me a flush draw. He checked, I potted it, everyone else folded, and he checkraised to $75 with like $125 behind. With deeper stacks I might have just called him, but then I never know what to do on the turn, so even though I knew he wasn't folding, I figured I had plenty of outs and wanted the table to see my three-bet all in "on a draw" so that's what I did. He snap called me with 32o for bottom two pair, but I rivered my flush.

Staring at me with a look of anger and frustration, he demanded, "Did you just go all in on a draw."

"Sure did."

"And what was at that time middle pair."

"Yup." I avoided eye contact and stacked the chips. He grunted and reloaded.

Eventually, he came around and decided I might be a pretty good player after all. After the seat change, I was to the immediate right of Captain Calling Station, who actually turned out to be a pretty nice guy (though a degenerate gambler) named John. I thought he'd be angry or resentful that I'd been hammering on him before, but he was pretty humble about admitting I'd gotten the best of him. He told me he didn't mind losing to me because he never left a casino with money. One night, he said, he was up $27,000 (I got the impression he played much higher stakes than what we were playing, and the prospect of getting into those games with him had me drooling), and came home with nothing after blowing it all at blackjack. His wife called him every name in the book and eventually divorced him. Yipes.

I made my usual straddle UTG and looked at my phone: 11PM, meaning I’d been playing with barely a break for 8 hours. More importantly, I could detect a seismic shift in how the table regarded me. I had a mountain of chips stacked in front of me, and most of my opponents had been around long enough to see me raking in all of the big pots I played. Lately, I’d been getting less action and hearing less grumbling about my “bad” play. But this table was soooo juicy! Not juicy in the sense that they’d lose their asses with anything, but juicy in the sense that there was $7500 in the table and only one other guy who seemed to have half a clue how to play poker. After folding, I resolved to take a walk, go to the bathroom, and play one more hour.

I returned to my seat and posted from the CO. The other competent player limped UTG, Mary limped behind him, two or three other players, including OMW, limped in, and I looked down at 75. It was tempting to limp in too, just to play a pot in position, and then I remembered that I’d already posted. I tapped the table, the button limped, the blinds tapped, and the flop came out Q77.

UTG bet $30, and Mary, to my surprise, called. It was unusual for our table to see this much action on such a dry board, so I just called in position with my trips. Everyone else folded, and the dealer burned and turned the K. UTG checked, and Mary, to my great surprise, bet $75, leaving a little less than $250 behind.I considered it very unlikely that she would play any hand containing a 7. Could she have KK or QQ? She limped behind a limper, and I’d previously seen her raise AA in a similar situation, so I slightly discounted these, but who knows. I really didn’t think she was the type to semi-bluff. Maybe AQ or KQ? I called, resolving to throw my hand away to a big river bet.

The river was the A, and Mary bet about $55 into a pot of nearly $300. I smiled inside and stared envisioning how this pot would give me a stack of over $2000 and get me unstuck for the trip. Her weak little blocking bet told me she was uncertain about her hand, probably worried that I had a 7. What could I raise? What would she call with? I decided that if I bet her last $183, she’d be getting better than 2:1, and would maybe talk herself into a call, both because she might want to put me on a busted flush draw or just because she didn’t want to fold two pair to the “Macadamia”, as her friend called me (because she thought I was a nut).

“All in”, I announced, moving a stack of red chips into the pot. Her spindly claws couldn’t shovel chips into the pot quickly enough. “Can’t win this one, sweetheart,” she informed me with a hint of malevolent glee as she flipped over her pocket Aces for a rivered full house. I grimaced, matched the last of her chips, and smiled at her. “Nice hand.”

In my mind, I replayed it. No reason to shove the river. She isn’t going to call with a worse hand. There was no flush draw on the flop to represent. Though unlikely, she certainly could have a boat, and the odds of her having a boat are probably better than the odds of her calling with a worse hand. But the weak river bet is what I kept coming back to. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how perfect it was. If she made the big bet herself, I’d already resolved to fold. But the underbet convinced me I was good and induced me to try raising for value. Had she stumbled upon this brilliant play by dumb, nut peddling luck? Or did she know that I would do the work for her, and that she couldn’t count on having a big bet of her own paid off? I wanted to ask her this, but I realized it would be rude, as I’d essentially be accusing her to her face of being just another clueless case of beginner’s luck.

After another orbit of folding, I stood up, wished everyone a good night, and went to cash in my chips. I felt a tap on my arm as I stood waiting for the cashier to convert my racks of casino chips into crisp $100 bills. Looking over and down, I saw Mary smiling up at me. “It was an absolute delight to have you at the table, and you’re a helluva poker player,” she told me.

“It’s too bad we were across the table from each other, we didn’t get to talk much.” She said good night and started to return to her seat, but I stopped her. “Your river bet was perfect,” I said.

Her face lit up. “I invited you right in, didn’t I?” she whispered conspiratorially.

“I couldn’t resist,” I admitted with a smile.

Labels: Las Vegas, narrative, personal, poker, poker strategy, session review, trip report

Stumble It!

Although it was after 5AM Saturday morning when we went to bed, I woke up in time to play the $500 Noon tournament feeling not the least bit hungover. It may have been better if I slept through it, though. Early on, I made a classic internet donkey mistake and failed to look at the stack size of my opponent. He had lost a big pot early on after calling a check-re-raise all in with 99 on an 8-high flop and was down to just a few thousand chips at the 100/200 level.

I raised to 600 with Q’s and he called on the SB. The flop was an ugly AJ5r, and without looking at his stack, I bet 900. He instantly moved all in for 1350 more, and I decided I was priced in to call. His A8o held up, much to my annoyance, and just like that, I was short stacked.

At the 200/400 level, I played another interesting pot. A guy with a huge stack who turned out to be an atrocious calling station had moved to the table not long ago and was getting involved in quite a few pots. With about 6500 chips, I raised to 1200 UTG+1 with AJ off-suit. The calling station called, and a guy with even fewer chips than I had called on the button. I obviously wasn’t worried about the station, but the button worried me. He really ought to moving all in with any hand he wants to play, and if he does just call, he needs to have a monster. Him being a terrible live tournament player, however, this isn’t what I put him on. Rather, I figured he would have some kind of medium strength hand. I think he would have shoved AK and maybe AQ in this spot, though I can’t say for sure.

The flop was AT6r, and I really had no idea what to do. I couldn’t afford to bet and fold, but I figured that if I got any action on this board, I would be dominated. Finally, I decided these guys were so obvious with their play that even from out of position I could check and figure it out. So I checked, the big stack checked, and the button bet 1000 into a pot of 4000. Ugh. I think I maybe should have check-raised all in here, but with that bet on this board, he’s likely to have either a hand that crushes me or very little. I called and resolved to figure it out on the turn. The calling station hemmed and hawed, announced that he had a little piece, and called. I don’t think this was an act of any kind and read him for bottom or middle pair.

The turn put an 8 on the board, and I checked again. The big stack also checked, and the button moved all in for 4000. Since I could basically beat only a bluff and didn’t think he would bluff into two callers, including the calling station, I folded. The big stack called instantly with his 86s and eliminated the button, who had AJ. Oh well.

My bustout hand was equally annoying. Still at the 200/400 level, a pretty generic player opened for 1600, and a tight player called. This was waaaaaaaay more action than we usually saw pre-flop, and believe it or not, when I looked down at a pair of Queens, I wasn’t happy. But with 5000 chips, I had no choice but to move all in. My stomach really sunk when the old nit on my left asked the dealer to count it down. He finally moved all in over the top, and the raiser started saying, "I don’t see how I can fold this," and I knew that one of not both of them had me crushed. The raiser called with KK, and the nit had AK. The case K on the turn put the final nail in my coffin.

Once again, I went upstairs to cool off and unwind a bit. Logan, Darren, and Joe had gone over to play the Mandalay Bay 2/4 NL game, which we’d heard was quite juicy. I called to see what they wanted to do for dinner, but they all had nice stacks at loose tables and didn’t want to leave, so I went over there to join them.

The Mandalay Bay poker room is pretty cramped relative to the Venetian room, and the dealers are a bit slower and more amateurish. They rake the pot even when there’s no flop, and they take additional money to put into a progressive high hand jackpot (Edit: Logan tells me that there is no rake on the jackpot, in which case I see no drawback to it. As he points out, it did seem to draw some fish.) To add insult to injury, the waitresses are not nearly as attractive as those at the Venetian either. However, the games are very good, and the floor is a lot more welcoming than they are some places.

There weren’t any open 1-2 seats so I sat in a 1-2 NL game while I waited. They didn’t make me post, so I came in UTG, though I didn’t play a hand until my button, when I raised to $12 after two limpers with KsQ. Both limpers called, and the flop came As 6s 2s. Check, the guy to my immediate right bet $15, I raised to $60, the first guy folded, and the second guy called. I turned a K and shoved when the action checked to me, but the dude called with A6s to stack me.

He paid me back a few hands later when he completed the SB and I checked 93o on my BB. Flop 9s 6h 3h and he check-calls a pot-sized bet (there were other players in the pot, but they all folded the flop). The turn put up another heart, and we checked through. A river 9 gave me a boat, my opponent bet $30, and I raised him $100 more. He told me he wanted to return some of my money and called with Kh 5h.

As I was leaving, I witnessed a hilarious showdown. I didn’t see the action on every street, but on a KQQ52 board with three clubs, one guy shoved and the dude to my right elbowed me and showed me his hand: 9c3c. He had floated the flop with a backdoor club draw and hit. When the SB called, I said, "I think you’re screwed" but it turns out the pusher had AQ and the SB had overcalled an all in bet with K5 on the river! 93 ships another big pot.

I was still a bit frustrated from the tournament and tired from the night before and certainly not playing my best when I first sat down at the 2-4 table. I made some bad plays early on and got off to a bad start. Eventually my aggression started to pan out and I got together some chips and a good reputation. Having just raised some limpers in the last hand, I raised again to $45 with AdKd. The loose player in the SB called, two of the calling station limpers called, and we saw a flop of 4d6cQd. Gin! The SB bet out $50, one of the calling stations called, and as soon as the action was on me, I leapt of my seat, shoved my chips into the pot, and called out loudly, "All in!", doing my best to look like a very excited amateur with a big pair. The SB thought and folded, but the other guy called quickly with a pair of 8's. He managed to dodge all of my 15 outs. "Nice read," I told the guy as genuinely as I could muster as I left the table, too annoyed now to keep playing.

It was barely midnight and no one else wanted to leave yet, so I walked around by myself for a bit to cool down before going back to my room. Nothing all that remarkable had really happened, I’d just had some bad luck in two tournaments and lost one stack at a cash game. This wouldn’t even faze me online, but when playing live, so much more is invested in a single game, since they run more slowly and you can’t play more than one at once. It’s something I need to work on if I want to start playing more live poker.

Labels: Las Vegas, narrative, personal, poker, poker strategy, session review, trip report

Stumble It!

I woke around 8AM Friday morning, it being 11 AM my time. When I finished showering and dressing, Logan was awake as well. Together we went across the street to the Mirage buffet.

Though the selection at breakfast wasn’t great, the food was quite good for a buffet. The bacon was crisp and the french toast was hot and soft, not like the cold and stale hunks of egg-soaked bread I’ve seen elsewhere. The room looked a lot nicer and better designed than other buffets I’d been to, and judging by the promised lunch and dinner offerings, it would be a good place to have either of those meals.

We got back to the Venetian poker room around 10:30, as I wanted to register for a tournament that I thought started at 11. I learned, however, that it did not start until Noon, so I took a seat at a 1-2 NL table where Joe was playing. I quickly won $200 with a set of T’s on a K-high flop, and a little while later, got up to use the bathroom before the tournament.

I was playing a $500 deep stacked event that runs on Saturdays and Sundays. For a regularly scheduled live tournament, it’s a great structure: 10,000 chips to start and forty-minute blind levels. I had over 100 BB’s for the first two hours of the tournament, which is generally unheard of if you aren’t spending four figures on the buyin.

The play was predictably weak tight and terrible, and my aggressive play quickly drew the ire of my tablemates. Unfortunately, they kept outflopping me, and though I made some good laydowns, I soon found myself below average, with the blinds and antes rapidly spiraling. A passive guy with a ton of chips limped UTG+1, someone else came in behind, and I decided to take a flop with 86s on the button. The stakes were 300/600, so my 17,000 chips didn’t allow for big implied odds, but the play was so passive that I wasn’t too worried about either of the short stacked players in the blinds moving all in, as they almost surely would have were this an online tournament.

What I hadn’t counted on was the BB thinking he was the SB and tossing an extra 300 chips into the pot. When it was explained to him what was happening, he pulled the chip back, but the floor ruled that he had to raise. "OK, I’m all in."

"I’m sorry, sir, but that would be a string bet. You must raise 600 more or forfeit the 900 chips.

"Fine!" he exclaimed angrily, firing his cards into the muck. The big stack just called the raise, as did the player behind me, and I was sorely tempted to move all in, as I felt either of them would have taken the opportunity to raise if they liked their hands particularly much. But a glance at the first player told me he might well look me up, so I just called.

The dealer spread the flop: 762r. The guy up front quickly bet 3000 into a pot of about 5000. I wasn’t sure what to make of this, but I didn’t think he could have an overpair, even 8's, given his failure to reraise pre-flop with the limpers behind him. After a few seconds of thought, I moved all in for roughly 15,000. "I call you," he told me quickly, though for some reason I felt like he was just being spiteful and I could be ahead. I turned over my hand, and he showed my KJ off-suit for no pair and no draw. Turn J, river J, and I’m out.

Leaving the others to play cash games, I went up to our room to unwind, check my email, call my girlfriend, etc. Afterwards I checked out the pool exclusively for denizens of the Venezia Tower. Nestled amidst a beautifully landscaped garden, I found no fewer than five pools of varying sizes, some heated, some sporting fountains or statuary, and all looking very relaxing. I read for a while on a stone bench in the shade of a large-leafed tree, and then headed inside to get ready for dinner. My only complaint about the pool is that there was no view. I later realized we were on the tenth floor of the hotel but unable to see anything about the hotel’s towers rising around us on all sides. It would be nice if there were a view of the city as well.

We dined at Delmonico’s, a Wolfgang Puck steakhouse in the Venetian. Since I don’t eat steak, I’m probably not the best person to review this place, but I found the service somewhat lacking for a restaurant of its caliber and price. When I eat at an expensive restaurant, I’m generally looking to try something new and appreciate the gourmet preparation. I’m expecting the wait staff to be knowledgeable enough to make suggestions, explain the preparation, and generally help me appreciate the meal.

When I asked our waiter about the soup of the day, he said simply, "lobster bisque," with no attempt to make it sound appealing or tell me what was special about Delmonico’s lobster bisque. I got a very similar response when I asked about the fish of the day. My friends who ordered steak didn’t get much more information, and the waiter also offered no assistance as we were selecting a wine from a very extensive (and expensive) list.

By this time, our fourth roommate for the weekend, Darren, had also joined us. Darren’s a few years older than we are and recently married, but he has a baby face and routinely gets carded when we go anywhere. He didn’t get carded at Delmonico’s, but Logan did tell them that it was Darren’s birthday and asked the waiter how old he thought Darren was.

"24?" he asked after sizing him up for a minute.

"You’re off by nearly a decade," Logan told him.

"I’m 14," Darren chimed in quickly. Our heretofore stolid waiter unleashed a deep belly laugh that instantly tripled his charm. After the meal, he brought out a chocolate gelatto on the house for the birthday boy. Darren shared with the table, and we found it quite delicious, particularly the whipped cream.

From there, we went straight to the poker room to catch some of the Friday night action. The Venetian poker room is probably my favorite in Vegas. It’s spacious, with good game selection and higher-than-average maximum buy-ins ($300 at 1-2 NL and $1000 at 2-5 NL). The staff is also excellent, with some very efficient and friendly dealers, helpful and accommodating floor staff, and some of the best (and best looking) cocktail waitresses I’ve seen.

Having left my traveler’s checks in the room, I bought into the 2-5 game for the $700 I had in my pocket and ran it up over $1000 pretty quickly. To my immediate right was a vivacious Asian woman who looked to be about 50, and to my left was a dark-skinned, comical, slightly drunk, and downright maniacal young poker player named John. I was anticipating a fun and profitable game.

The Asian woman struck up a conversation with me and started giving me some pretty basic poker advice. Playing the part of confuzzled tourist, I asked if she wasn’t a professional. She told me no, explaining that she played for the first time a few years ago and fell in love immediately. "At first, I lose very much money, but I get better, and I love this game. My husband ask me if I want have sex, and I say, ‘No, I want play pokah, baby!!!’" Hmmm, perhaps it’s better that Emily doesn’t play.

Still in a playful mood, I asked if I hadn’t seen her on TV. "I doh knoh, I dohn watch pokah on TV."

"You weren’t at the final table of the World Series?"

"Just a ladies’ event!" she announced proudly.

"Oh, are you Annie Duke?" I asked.

"Hahahaha, your friend, he is big boolshitter," the woman told Darren, who was sitting on the other side of her. He nodded.

"Oh wait, I know who you are. You’re Johnny Chan!" she laughed even harder.

A little while later, she won a big pot off of a loud guy with huge arms bursting out of a muscle tee and frosted hair gelled into a prickly ridge. She got her money in pretty bad and made a runner runner straight. He said something about how badly she played the hand, and a big fight ensued. They ended up betting $200 on whether she had a gutshot or an open-ender on the turn. Although the guy was out of line for running his mouth, he was right that she had a gutshot, so I didn’t get involved. She insisted she wouldn’t pay unless she saw the tape, at which point John cut the tension with a deadpan incredulous, "Wait a minute, you all have cameras in here?!?!" to the dealer.

The meathead left not long after, without collecting his $200, but the fight pretty much killed the jovial mood at the table. The woman on my right seemed upset that no one took her side and was no longer willing to joke around with me. As luck would have it, the episode of ESPN’s 2006 World Series of Poker coverage in which I make a very brief appearance came on TV, but I could not get this woman to turn her head in look. I think we had lied/BS’ed with her too much for her to believe anything we told her.

I was up to about $1200 when I made a few mistakes. I had been playing back at John’s aggressive play, pulling a few squeezes on him, though it was tough being to his immediate right, especially as we got deeper. He straddled UTG, got two calls, and I made it $70 with red Q’s on my BB. He called, as I figured he would do with almost anything, and everyone else folded. The flop was a less than ideal KcT6c, and John called a $120 bet.

The dealer turned a 6, and I checked. Without much hesitation, John bet $300. With nearly $1100 behind, I had a tough decision. I really felt like he was on a draw, but my only move now would be to check-raise all in, and if he did have a K or a 6, I’d be drawing near dead. After much thought, I folded, and he showed be 95cc. Darren and I discussed the hand later and concluded that I definitely should have shoved on him. I was basically just playing scared with 220 BB’s and over $1000 cash.

Still steaming from that fold, I raised to $25 with AA in early position, and both John and a short-stacked guy who seemed kind of tight called. "I have the best hand right now," John told me. The flop was a very dry Q85r.

"You say you had the best hand?" I asked him.

"Yeah."

"OK I check."

"Well it’s not best anymore, I check too." The other guy checked pretty quick, and the dealer turned a T to complete the rainbow. I bet $55, John folded, and the other guy min-raised to $110. Immediately I had a sinking feeling my my stomach. I asked what he had left, and when he told me $160, I rationalized a reraise all in by telling myself that after the flop checked through, my hand was pretty under-represented. He quickly called with QQ for top set.

I later learned that calling this guy "pretty tight" was like calling the cocktail waitress’ outfit "pretty revealing." He went to showdown twice in about three hours, both times holding big pairs pre-flop that turned into sets on the flop. I’m also pretty sure he (correctly) folded K’s to me pre-flop, which really burned me up.

I did make one play with which I was very satisfied. I had moved seats to get off of John’s left. The player three seats to my right was extraordinarily passive, as revealed by this hand: he limps behind a bunch of limpers and bets an A64 flop checked to him. I call with A2 on my BB, everyone else folds, and he immediately comments that this is "suspicious" of me. The turn is an A, and I check and call again. The river brings an 8, I check, and he checks behind with A4 for a full house, telling me that he didn’t see how I could call with a worse hand. Although I was ready to muck my A2, I still hate his check.

Anyway, in the hand I want to talk about, I called an early position raise with 76s in middle position, and this guy called from his BB. The flop came 56c9c, he checked, and we both called a bet from the raiser. An 8 on the turn filled my gut shot, but when the BB bet out $100, I figured he had the same hand and just called, hoping to bluff him off of it if a scare card came on the river. Sure enough, the river was a 9, and he checked. After thinking for a few seconds, I bet $300, and he told me he was folding a straight.

By midnight, we were done playing serious poker and ready to get drunk and have some fun. We put our names on an interest list for a 6-12 Mixed Games table and kept bugging the floor staff until they finally helped us round up another group of friends to play with us.

For the who don’t know, the 6-12 Venetian Mixed Game is some of the most fun you can have playing poker in Vegas. Everyone is there to play some unusual games, drink free drinks, and have a ball. The mood is very laid back, and the dealers do their part by joking around and letting the players decide how the game should be run.

We were joined by one pretty weak player and a group of four young guys who seemed pretty solid. One kid in particular was not drinking and had a very strong grasp of the triple draw games like deuce to seven. This was kind of annoying since we were just looking to screw around and have fun, but he sort of got into the spirit, and he didn’t leave with too much of our money.

The nine of us settled on a rotation of Stud/8, Omaha/8, 2-7 Triple Draw, Razz, and Badugi. Impressively, several of our dealers avoided a very common error when dealing Stud