Monday, September 29, 2008

Race won, race lost

I was supposed to be running a half marathon down the country this weekend but turns out it's next weekend, so I had to improvise. Said improvisation taking the form of splitting 2 10 mile tempo runs with a 5K race in the (Phoenix) park, the Grandparent's Day 5K(ish).

Race was a little unusual to say the least (more of a fun run to be honest): only about 30 entrants, an unclear distance (about 5.5K according to my Garmin), no distance markers or official timing, an unclear course on footpaths rather than roads. Because I didn't know the course, I jogged along behind the leading pack before taking off like a scalded cat as soon as I saw the finish line about 1K from the end. This meant I rather surreally ended up winning the race by almost 300 metres. Race started very slowly (around my 100K pace!), then the leading female who I recognised from high finishes in the minimarathon and other road races around Dublin seemed to realise she had a rare opportunity to beat all the men in a race, so she injected some meaningful pace, followed by myself and another guy. We ran together for about 4K and it being almost a fun run I was unsure of whether we were even racing each other (if there had been a suggestion that we all finish together, I'd certainly have gone for it) but actually the other two seemed to make a determined effort to get away from me as we went up the hill towards the 40 acres so I got the message, right it is a race, and kicked away about a K from the end.

Ten years ago I considered myself to be a slow marathon runner lining up for his first short race, also a 5K in the park, only because someone told me that short races could improve your marathon times. A decade of innocence about running and training methods was about to give way to a decade of obsession that would see me winning races in Ireland, England, New York, Holland, the Czech Republic, but I lined up on that start line 10 years ago convinced I was about to be last in the race (I wasn't, thankfully) and certainly not dreaming that 10 years later I'd actually be winning a 5K "sprint" in the park.

Anyway, by the time I finished my run, it was too late for me to make the game in Molloys. So instead I played the Winter festival sat in the Fitz. Never really got going in truth, but happy enough with my play, I kept my patience and discipline to give myself my best shot at it. Entertainment value too in some of the hands I wasn't involved in.

Hand 1: Bunch of limpers to Fitz regular Stuey's big blind. He sticks in a big reraise. Stuey's pretty loose to say the least but any time he does that he actually has a hand (he'd already done it with kings). This being the Fitz of course, limp folding isn't an option so they all call. Flop is A 10 7 rainbow, Stuey makes a pot sized stab at it, called only by Bob Battersby. Turns a queen and Stuey shoves. Bob calls almost instantly for most of his stack with something like 10 4. Stuey had Ace queen but Bob rivers a 10.

Hand 2: Bunch of limpers, table maniac sticks in a raise of 13 big blinds or something mad like that, tight player behind him calls, as does Stuey. Flop is 654 with 2 clubs. Maniac leads out for pot, tight guy behind him shoves, maniac goes to fold but eventually calls with KQ. No flush draw, just two overs. Other guy turns over A10, two overs and a flush draw and stays ahead.

Hand 3: Early limp, button sticks in a big raise, maniac calls in bb, early limper too. Flop is 10 7 3 rainbow, maniac checks, check, raiser bets pot, maniac check raises pot times 2, raiser shoves, and check raiser has a long think, says "I think my 3 is good here" but eventually folds after clock is called on him.

Hand 4, aka how I donked away my first tranch of chips: Last hand before the addon/rebuy break. Card death has seen me drift back to 60% starting stack, I pick up AKs utg and figure, what the heck, lets shoot for a double up here at this ace rag merchant infested table. So I go with a play I discussed with Paul Quinn at the final table in Citywest in July: limping to shove if reraised. Right on cue, Bob Battersby sticks in a big raise from mid position. Button calls this big raise, as does Pat Vickers in the bb. I shove, happy with the outcome, thinking Bob's got a small to medium pair, so I'm racing for a big stack at worst when the other two drop out. Bob does indeed reshove his considerably bigger stack thanks to his dogging of Stuey, but they both call!

Cards go over, Bob's got 7's, button has 56s, Pat has J9o, and scoops the lot when he hits a 4 flush to the 9.

After the break I lost a pot to Pat blind on blind where I thought I was getting value for bottom two but he reluctantly called me down with top 2, and another where I hit a well disguised top 2 against Bob and he called me down with who knows what. I could perhaps have got a bigger river bet off him as Bob doesn't seem to be able to fold any pair when he has some chips.

Anyway, got to the final table very much in push or fold mode. Card death is frustrating in the Fitz because there's bugger all creativity you can bring to bear, since fold equity doesn't exist, so it's purely a matter of deciding whether your hands figures, on average, to be better than the active players, at least one of whom will be calling you. First push was A10s from earlyish position. Pat's in the BB so my thoughts are I'm pushing any half decent ace because he'll call any ace or king, and maybe worse, and I need a doubleup, not just some blinds and antes. So A10s is a monster to my eyes in this particular spot and true to read, he calls with A6o and I hold.

Blinds go up though and with the ever insidious antes I'm back in push or fold mode and can't afford to rest on my laurels too long before picking a spot. That spot comes when it's folded round to me in the CO and I have 6's, so shoveski. Button has clearly woken up with a hand though, because he counts out my push to make sure that yes, it's more or less half his stack, and after what I assume is a bit of Hollywood he flat calls. That looks like a really big pair to me, and yup, he turns them over, first card ace, second card a...no, jack. Wha?? Happy to be in a straight race obviously but he hits two jacks and that's that. Some day I'll write a blog entry talking about how my opponent made a great call in my exit hand, but today's not the day. OK, he'd seen me shove with A10s but hmmm..... still.

Anyway, races are gas, aren't they? Most players I know know that the pair is generally favourite but still tend to fancy having the overs more. I think the reason for that is the rather strange maths of the race: yes, the pair is generally a favourite, often quite clearly so, but unless the pair hits a set (which happens only about once every five times), the overs usually win, because they hit by the river more than half the time. So in other words, the pair rarely hits a set, and if it doesn't, the overs are favourite, but the pair is still favourite overall.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

"You should play online!"

Fitz. Scalps. Most miserable tournament ever. Three pots. Won one. Early bath.

That's probably that needs to say, but if you expect brevity, the blog of a man capable of two entries in a single night probably isn't the place to come.

First pot: AKs, utg, raise, reraise, I shove, he calls with KK, I dog the poor fecker. Shove might look a little fruity until you realise this is the Fitz we're talking, the natural habitat of the ace rag merchant, and I'd seen the guy pull the identical move earlier with A3o. That left me actually up 1K in chips at the break despite not having won another pot.

As you can tell, I was sticking to my standard Fitz game plan of sitting and waiting for cards, at least till the push or fold section started. Card death continued after the break so I'd drifted back to 5500 by the time pot 2 happens.

It starts with a relatively short limper UTG, a Fitz stalwart who is also getting a wee bit short flat calling UTG+1. I'm UTG+2 with 10's, I know a small raise is just a pot sweetener, so I make it 1500 or 5 BB's. Folded around to the original limper who dies, then the other guy unexpectedly shoves 4K. A bit disquieting but I've played with him enough times and never see him limp anything remotely as strong as 10's so it's an easy and not unhappy call expecting to be racing at worst, and hoping for a smaller pair. His actual hand is somewhere in between A7. He hit an ace and apologises saying he thought my slight overbet signalled a baby pair and he could get me off the hand. That didn't really make me feel better: hard to know which is more insulting, the notion that I'd pot commit myself with a baby pair in that spot, or that I'd fold to the reraise getting more than 5 to 2 on the call. But at the end of the day I have nothing to complain about: encouraging the notion that I can be made to fold in those spots thereby inducing light shoves is one of the reasons I've made quite a bit overall in Fitz tourneys. And the thing is the shover is actually one of the more effective players in the Fitz fishbowl, precisely because overbets often do mean either low pairs or rag aces, and people will make horrible folds getting 3 to 1 or better.

As tempting as it is to berate when that happens, preferred strategy is to compliment them on their aggressive play, and encourage them to play online more, on the basis that if a weak player like me can make money playing online, they'd really clean up.

Finally, I'd encourage anyone who can to go along and support the Deaf Poker Society's tournament in Molloy's on Sunday. Should be a great game.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Like a virgin...or at least a tight nervous distracted novice

No joy in the sats last night. Was going great guns, chipleader in fact, in the IWF thing when I managed to donk away most of my stack on a bluff to the eventual winner. I was representing a flopped or rivered straight into a set. Didn't think he was that strong because he just calld on every street which I didn't think he'd do with so many draws. So, yeah, bluffing, bad bad bad, must not do it again. Seriously though, I'm always preaching that in Ireland specifically, bluffing is -EV, and calling if you beat a bluff is +EV. So why wasn't I listening to myself?

Never got going in GUKPT satellite when an English donk called an all in on the flop with one over and a gutshot. I had top set. Gutshot, river, standard.

Final tabled the Grosvenor Pot Limit sat and would probably have got a ticket if my queens had held up against A2o aipf in my exit hand. Only 6 left at that point and 4 tickets. I was the shortie but if I win that I cripple him and think I take it from there Jose.

Was annoyed with myself though, because at one point in that tournament I was shortish, had queens on the button, but timed out before I realised it because I was trying to figure out what to do in the BCOOP Stud Hi/Lo. I really shouldn't have played that, -EV in so many different ways, but good fun nevertheless. I spent about 2 minutes speedreading Sklansky's section in Super System and devised the basic strategy of always shooting for Lo and looking for spots where I could scoop the whole pot. Still had no great notion what was going on most of the time but still ended up 6th. Hurray for the tight nervous distracted novice game.

SNGs still going well.

Scalps tonight.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Moving on up and big upping the bro

This is going to be a not even thinly disguised brag entry but there ya go. I've moved up to the $100 SNGs and so far so good. Small sample (28) but at the moment I'm up over $800 counting RB for an ROI of almost 30% and an average profit per SNG of almost $30. Clearly that's not sustainable but it's better to get off to a good start than a bad one. I've implemented new tilt control procedures where as soon as I feel the urge to type something abusive into the chatbox after an exit, I stop playing instead. Reviewing my records, I noticed streaks of non-cashes which I was putting down exclusively to variance but I think it may actually be good policy to just stop after an annoying loss and take a break. I'm hoping that might lead to even better results than the past 2 weeks. I used to think I was almost tiltproof but maybe not.

So, in 2 weeks, I've played (or at least kept records of, I think I missed a few background ones I played when focusing on sats) a total of 280 STT SNGs (3 $30's, 249 $50's, 28 $100s) for a total profit before rakeback of just under $2000. Including rakeback brings it up to almost $2500. So in terms of having something I can use to grind up some money playing 4-5 hours a day, SNGs are looking promising.

Once I've got a larger sample of the $100s, I'll consider moving up to the $200s. Amazingly, I see the same bad players signing up for them as at the lower levels. There are some guys who seem to play 14-16 hours a day, 5-10 at the same times, and they're big losing players. How do they sustain it? You have to assume there's some sort of addiction involved, which is sad when you think of it, and makes me feel like a bit of a douchebag for boasting about how I'm winning. Some of these guys are down $30K or more.

Was intending to play Fitz EOM tonight but can't since I qualified for the IWF thing on PP so tonight is satellite night. Might play scalps tomorrow instead.

I've got the brother playing SNGs too and he's just sick good, way better than me (albeit over much smaller sample/variance, and also he's not ventured up past $30 yet). His graph is just unreal, up, up and up, and his ROI is sicker, 55%. His problem is he doesn't have the stamina to play as much or as long as I do, and the bad beats affect him so adversely that he's pretty much done for the day as soon as one happens. But I firmly believe that when he's at the top of his game, there are very few better tournament players in Ireland, if any.

He still hasn't recovered from Vegas either fiscally or (I think) emotionally, so he hasn't played live since. But if he keeps going well online, he may not need to play live to get a roll together for Vegas next year. I'm hoping he does start playing live again though, because we complement each other very well. We have the same basic outlook, but slightly different approaches to the game, and his strengths are my weaknesses and vice versa. As such our conversations about the game are always mutually educational. He's even picking up live tells these days (he used to believe they didn't even exist) and I've a better understanding of optimal lines and stack strategies.

He's still a Godawful cash player though. But at least he knows it.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Position, nine tents on the lawn apparently

My beloved is back for which I'm greatly thrilled, and not just for the cooking. It's a bit pathetic at our age but we really pine for each other when we're apart.

Ok, poker stuff. Finished another batch of 100 $50 SNGs with exactly the same result as the first batch, so that's fine. Now into the third batch and a bit behind but hopefully that would just be variance.

Played a $14 sat for the PP IWF on Thursday last night and ended up headsup with Mellor. Told him at the start of the headsup I thought it would come to this, which is a little big headed perhaps, but there ya go. Not to say there weren't some other decent players involved. Some funny banter too, primarily with a guy who decided to lecture me on "position" (new one on me!) after he reraised my UTG raise from UTG+2 with A5o and hit his ace, and another guy who seemed to take the hump when he check raised me on the flop (new one on me too, this check raising mullarkey) and I shoved in my confusion. Online banter's a tricky one to judge at the best of times: anything you say can and will be misinterpreted. Anyway, headsup with Mellor was great fun/challenge, he played brilliantly but I sucked out on him in the end as you do.

Playing a satellite tonight and the first BCOOP tnight which should be heap much laugh.

Running is better. Went out today in new shoes to break them in for Korea and felt like a new man. Planning to run a half marathon on Sunday as a training session.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Still alive

Survived the week thanks to Fi doing an adequate job of feeding me. However, I must admit I'm strongly looking forward to return of my beloved French chef, I mean wife, with her full bag of French cuisine tricks and other fringe benefits.

On the poker front, not set foot outside the house, but planning to play tonight's IWF satellite in the Fitz. From which you may correctly infer that recent attempts to qualify online have not gone to plan.

I've continued grinding the $50 Ipoker SNGs to get a large enough sample size to quantify my edge and turn it into an hourly rate. At the moment, it's clocking in around $30 which isn't bad but isn't anything to write home about either. That's two tabling so the next question is if I move up to 4, 6 or 8 will it increase. Phase 2.

I've also made some half assed attempts to get back into cash at $5/$10 and $10/$20 but despite being (marginally) up I just can't get back into online cash. When I think back to this time last year when I thought it was the best thing ever, I wonder what happened. I guess I just got hooked on donkments lol. Cash just seems mindcrushingly dull now. Of course maybe the fact that my win rate was much higher this time last year has something to do with the mood swing, but it's almost like I'm afraid to try cash again seriously in case it turns out the hourly rate is so high I have no choice but to concentrate on it. Fear of success, as my sports psychologist would say.

Speaking of sports psychology, I need a pick up quick before the World 24's. Training this week has been abysmal, culminating in an utter fiasco yesterday. The idea was 20 mins warmup, 5K hard, 10 mins easy, 3K hard, 10 mins easy, 4K hard, 20 mins warmdown. My mind just seemed to go in the middle of the first 5K, I couldn't hit the pace, and just stopped. Managed to get myself going again but pace was beyond awful, 30 seconds/K down on where it should have been. So bad I decided to quit and started trudging home disconsolately. A few minutes into that I came to my senses and started the run again. I managed to finish it in terms of the distances but the pace stayed bad. It improved about 5 secs/K but no more. Maybe I'm just missing my mate.

Was thinking of running a competition of Boards to get people to guess how far I'd run in the 24 hours with the person coming closest winning a 5 or 10% stake in my next major tournament (probably the IWF) but have decided against it on reflection. It's probably best to keep a decent degree of separation between my running and poker worlds.

Also, congrats to my international team mate Eoin Keith who absolutely hockeyed the record for running the complete Wicklow Way a full 4 hours faster than the previous record. With Tony Mangan recently breaking the World 48 hour readmill record (and Dean Karnazes failing to break it live on American TV - Kelly and Regis no less - during the week), these are glorious days for Irish ultra running. Not that you'd ever know it from the local media who are more interested in third rate GAA footballers who are the pride of their local village.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Looking into her eyes for psychotic tendencies

Mireille's away in France visiting her parents for the week, so while the cat's away, the mouse....well, the mouse worries about how he's going to get fed. Luckily there's still a responsible adult in the house, Fiona, fresh from her recent Junior Cert triumph. Belated yay Fi for that, to ensure that myself and the brother get fed.
While there's nothing in her past to suggest patricidal tendencies, all poker players know it's best not to let your guard down. Now would be her perfect opportunity to poison me, for example.
Here's a picture of Fi so those of you better versed than I in spotting psycho tendencies can warn me if necessary.


On the poker front. I played 100 $50 SNGs on Ipoker since Thursday. My ROI dropped a bit towards the end but clocked in at a reasonable 12% not counting rakeback (15% counting).
Played some more sats for GUKPT and IWF, close but no cigar. Have qualified for another one on Thursday. If I don't get a ticket there I may give the Jackpot and/or Fitz sats a try.






Monday, September 15, 2008

How now Red Cow, grazing in the Kansas meadow

Played Red Cow yesterday. Fun tournament. By fun, I mean it's always funny to be forced to look at poker through entirely new eyes, which is what you have to do when you're faced with a field playing a very different kind of poker from the norm. Or as Wilberforce Clynes put it more succinctly, you're not in Kansas now.
Anyway, tournament was a total non-event personally. I managed to win exactly one pot. Other than that, my worm steadily dribbled down to meet the rising tide of blinds, until down to 9 BB I shoved over the top of an UTG raise. AQs is not normally a hand I'd like all that much in that spot with no fold equity (or so I thought), but desperate times require appopriate measures, the guy was a very loose raiser who tended to raise big with his most scared hands, so I reckoned I was in decent shape, no worse than racing, if he called. Unfortunately, two others had already called by the time it got back to him, and (amazingly I thought, considering he's now getting 7 to 1 from the pot on the call) and he folded.
Flop came AJx rainbow so I thoght I might be ahead, turn and river were harmless enough, first caller announces Jack and tables KJ, but the other guy had AK. Oh well If I'd won that pot, I'd have virtually quadrupled up. Fun tourney overall though, and well organised.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

BLU

Played the Scalps last night for the first time in ages. No good, apart from the fact I got a couple of scalps for the first tie ever, which probably says something about how my game has changed since I used to play the game weekly. I came second in that tournament once without claiming a single scalp. Played the non-crapshoot part pretty well apart from one hand where I laid down the best hand to a small bet on the flop. I had pocket 9's, it's threeway, flop came with an A and a J, villain led out. Normally it's an easy fold but against this particular villain (I've played him previously only in the Clonsilla Inn) it was clearly a weak lead/probe so the fold was wimpy. Unfortunately I was crediting him with a jack (he plays almost any jack high hand for some reason best known to his good self) and he's also a total station so I had no confidence I could get him off a jack so I let it go. He had pocket 8's, which is exactly the type of hand that made calling at least one small bet mandatory against this particular villain.
Unfortunately just as we were getting into the pushbot crapshoot phase of the tournament, our table broke. It's always a serious disadvantage to be thrown onto a new table at this point, when you haven't had time to observe how tight or loose your opponent's are by default, or establish a rocky image that increases fold equity. My crippling hand was pretty standard: playing 10 8 suite on the button I flopped a combo flush/gutshot draw, got check raised all in by a tight shortie with top 2, and missed.
Was intending to play the Charity game in the Fitz today but couldn't fit it in because I had to do one of my last key distance sessions before Korea: three two hours runs, one morning, one afternoon, one evening. Legs feel a bit tired but otherwise it was surprisingly easy. I covered somewhere between 35-40 miles in total.
Online, I've started taking sngs seriously rather than as blowing off steam exercises, or trying out new ideas training sessions. I've played 33 $50 sngs in the last few days. So far I'm maintaining an ROI just under 25% (or just over 25% with rakeback) which is reasonable even if it won't make me rich. I obviously need a larger sample size to determine what my true edge at this level is. If it is 20% and I can get up to 10 an hour, then it becomes worth it timewise. A lot of ifs there, of course, and at the moment I'm only two or three tabling the sngs so my ROI might very well dip if I add more tables.
Also been playing some online cash which has been going all right. Only all right, meaning up not down but not much.
Also, just won a baby sat on PP giving me a ticket to Thursday's IWF sat. People play sats so bad in general. So very very bad.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Evolution and other stuff I pretend to understand

One of the things I like about being a poker player is you are a work in progress. Players change and evolve, they get exposed to other players good and bad, and adjust accordingly. I believe most good players are not taught, either by a book or a teacher, but they evolve out of the environment they play in. They see what works, what doesn't. When I started playing in the Fitz, there was a core of maybe a dozen winning players. Every final table featured at least 2 of their number, along with 6 or 7 random donkeys. The good (or effective) players tended to remain the same: the donkeys rotated endlessly, and you rarely saw the same donkey on a final table more than once every blue moon.
I say effective because from a purely technical point of view a lot of the winning players were not very good. They often didn't really understand pot odds, or the Gap concept, or M's or Q's, or know the percentages of one hand beating another (for example, a common Fitz fallacy is that something like KQ is 50/50 against AJ), and heir bets often made no sense in terms of what could or couldn't call them. But they didn't really need to know these things to be effective in their environment: they had developed a playbook and an instinctive sense of what worked in that specific poker microclimate. They learned by observation and example and trial and error.
The first inkling I got of these players limitations came when I start playing the EOM tournaments. The winning players would all be there, having at some point during the month won a ticket as part of a prize for placing high in a nightly tournament. And right from the start, one by one, they'd be weeded out early to the point that by the dinner break they'd often all be gone. Faced with a higher standard of competition, and a slower deeper stacked structure, they could no longer get by on blind aggression and the moves that worked for them night in night out like shoving over an early position raiser with Ace 10 were now coming unstuck because the early position raiser was more likely to have a dominating hand than a dominated one. Yet take some of the "good" players who perform effectively on the bigger stage into the furnace of the fast blind short stack nightly tournaments and I'd lay money they'd find it hard to match the winning Fitz players in that particular minefield.
I'm evolving myself as a tournament player all the time. I thought a lot about one hand I played on the second last table of Tuesday's tournament in the Fitz. I didn't mention it in my report because at the time it seemed quite insignificant but actually as an example of how my thinking has shifted recently (since Vegas I think) it much more pertinent than any of the "big" hands I did outline.
The hand occurred when I had just doubled up to have an effective stack for the first time in the crapshoot portion of the tournament. I had 15K for 15 big blinds. I raised in the hijack seat with K10o, a move that I remained convinced is plus EV based on the tightness of my opponents still to act, their perception of me, and the stack sizes involved. A very tight old lady on the button shoved for just under 9K. Getting well over 2 to 1 on the call my first thought was it was an easy call based on pot odds, but after a dwell, I folded. My reason was that if I called I was (on average) 65% likely to lose and be down to 6.5K, hopelessly short. I could pass and maintain a playable stack of 12 BBs. The fold would make absolutely no sense in a cash game, or a rebuy tournament, but I'm convinced that in this specific instance it was more important to take the 100% likelihood of a playable stack of 12 BBs than the 35% chance of a 35 BB stack.
Tonight I played a couple of online sats I'd qualified for. No joy in the GUKPT one, but I got headsup in the IWF one. Unfortunately I lost the headsup battle, pushing the nut flush draw into a flopped flush and missing for 99% of the chips. Still, I got over $900 for coming second which was a result considering how miserably shortstacked I was for most of the final table. Again, I was happy with my patience and I think I waited just about as long as I possibly could each time to give myself the best chance of doubling up. My short stack play used to be so lousy that I used to joke that whenever I had one I should sub in the brother (and he said the same thing in reverse about occasions when he ended up bigstacked).
Plan for the weekend is Scalps in the Fitz tomorrow, the charity thing in the Fitz Saturday, and Red Cow Sunday.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Man go all in pocket 5's, man win with two pairs

I take great pride that I recently learned how to fold a big hand, but folding the nuts on the river, as I did on the FT in the Fitz last night, to a smallish bet is probably taking things too far.
How I ended up in the Fitz is another story. I headed into town for the Sporting Emporium satellite to the Betdaq thing, not realising it had been cancelled until informed so by the snooty coat and tails doorman who informed me there was a private function and no poker tonight with a look and tone that said he was pleased not to have to admit poker riff raff for once.
So I legged it for the Fitz not even knowing what was on, muttering under my breath about not knowing why I even bother with the Emporium, a place I've never felt welcome.
Fiz tourney was a 50+5 freezeout, or Double Chance to be precise (bugger all diff if you ask me), with 70 runners. I missed out on the early bonus chips so I was already down 10%. Didn't bother cashing in my second chance chips for once because of this, as there were two many people who could eliminate me now (my normal strategy is to cash it in straight away, or at least as soon as someone doubles up).
Table was a mixture of the usual Fitz crazies and a few young student types who knew what they were doing. It's been ages since I played one of these type tournaments so I decided to revert to my old rock strategy and sat patiently waiting for a hand. When I eventualy got one, I more that doubled up. UTG limper, UTG+1 min raises, 2 or maybe 3 calls from the young students who are regularly outplaying the other guys after the flop, I wake up with Kings in the SB and raise it to 1100, aka half my stack, everyone but the min raiser folds. Flop is 964 rainbow, I shove, the guy snap calls with QJ. Standard Fitz fare really: two picture cards good enough to raise any position preflop and once he hit his flop, by God he wasn't going to allow himself be bullied into folding by any raise and pushed off his two overs and open-ended runner runner gutshot possibilities.
After that, my stack hovered up and down 25% until we were in the push or fold section. Turbo sit n gos have really improved that aspect of my game, I picked my spots well to the point that I never went in behind when the cards were flipped over even if I was occasionally reraising allin with pretty marginal holdings as I had a very firm grip on different people's differing ranges. More crucially, I never got outdrawn either. The hand that set me up for the final table went like this: I'm down to just over 9K or six big blinds, UTG, raises 2.5 BBs, I shove AQ, SB (Brian, a decent regular but he overrates most Ace high hands) reshoved, original raiser called. I hope I'm racing against two underpairs but obviously worried there's a premium pair or an AK in there, but no, both of them have Ace jack! That more than treble up gives me a good stack all of a sudden, it gets a bit bigger when the now short guy to my right shoves from the SB and I call blind getting 6 to 1 and hold, and even better very next hand when an oldish guy raises 2.5 BB from early position, I shove AK from the small blind. He snap calls for 20K so I immediately think trouble at mill aces or kings so you can imagine my surprise when he flips over 8 7. Sooted, of course.
Final table featured one of the students, General Zito, Rita the rock and a few old regs I recognise but don't know by name. I have about 70K or 20% of the chips. First hand, I raise on the button with KQ, General Zito calls in the BB, and folds when I bet the K high flop. He shows QJ so it's a shame no Queen came. Another "blindsteal" with pocket 9's and now I'm moving when my horrorshow hand arrives. Rita calls from MP, I raise to 9K (3 BB) with AQ, she calls. Flop is A106 with two spades. She checks, I bet 10K, she calls looking not very happy. Turns the jack of spades. I think my ace is the spade so I check back. It is. I check behind figuring Rita's not going to call another bet with a worse hand and now I have the nut flush draw. River's horrible though: Q (non spade), giving me top 2 but when she bets 10K I know she's hit her straight. I make an easy fold with (I think) top two, beating myself up about how badly I played the hand, but turning the cards over to show everyone what a clever boy I am to at least be able to fold on the end. Gasps all around and it's pointed out to me I folded the nut flush. I look down and to my horror see the my Q was also a spade. Worst fold ever.
So now I'm sitting there thinking that's by far the biggest mistake I've ever made at a poker table. Then I think that letting it affect me would be an even bigger mistake, and thankfully I don't (helped by a timely period of card death, I must say). Standard TAG stuff all the way, picking my spots and committing to a pot or not playing at all, and we're eventually down to 4. As usual in the Fitz, only the top 2 prizes are worth shooting for. When it gets 4 handed, I have about 70K, General Zito (who tightened up as usual and barely played a pot so that his initial chip lead withered away) has about 55K, an old female regular has about 40K and the overwhelming chip leader who I've never seen before but has played well and clearly understands pot odds and the aggression principle (which gives him a massive edge over the average punter already) has the rest. Blinds are now 4 and 8 so there's no hanging about, I have 5's UTG and shove, General Zito calls with AK, I hold, and General Zito delivers one of his trademark rants ("Fuck's sake. Man go all in pocket 5's, man win with two pairs").
Now we're three handed, 400 yoyos for 3rd, 700 and 1170 for 2nd and first, so it's a matter of sit tight until the shortie goes. The massive chip leader knows what he's at thankfully, he has position on me but realises I could still hurt him, so he keeps out of my way but attacks the shortie when I stay out. Mostly I have shit I'm unwilling to get involved with since he has immediate position on me so I've drifted back a little when he finally takes her out, and he has almost a 3 to 1 chiplead. He looks over at the prize board, and says "My friend, chop?" which was extremely decent of him. Obviously I'm more than happy given the chip situation, so much so that I think I'm already across the table shaking hands with him by the time he gets to ch.. Obviously I'd do the same for him in future if the situations are ever reversed.
In any case, that's three consecutive FTs and cashes (in between the two recent Fitz excursions, I won a ticket in the IWF daily sat on Paddy Power poker on Monday) to officially bring my recent slump of 4 consecutive tournaments without a cash to an end :)

Monday, September 8, 2008

A game of two halves, Motty

Played the Fitz IPT thing and it really was a game of two halves. First day could not have gone any better, after initially drifting back to 9K I just steadily increased and thanks to three monster pots ended the day as one of the three big stacks on the FT.
Monster pot number one was a hero call against the Bomber Nolan, who sat beside me for most of the day and impressed me greatly both as a player and a human being. This was the first time I played extensively with him and I have to say I was somewhat surprised by how solid his game is: he played a lot less hands than I expected, he showed great aggression but only in the right spots, he made some big folds and reads, and was generally very tricky and trappy. He really didn't get the run of the deck though.
Anyway, the hand. Very loose guy playing most pots limps in mid to late position, Bomber completes from the SB and I check my option with K9. Flop is 9s7s2x, and the Bomber leads out for about pot I think. It's hard to put the Bomber on a hand or even a range at the best of times, it could be a draw, a made hand (two pairs most likely) or a bluff, and with the other guy to act behind me I decide to flatcall for now and see what happens. The other guy folds, and an Ax hits the turn, at which point to my surprise the Bomber ships. Against most normal players it's an easy fold since I only have second pair at this point, but the Bomber has been showing signs of impatience with his diminishing tank and talking about wanting to go babysitting so I decide to give myself some thinking time. I've seen players like Rob Taylor and Nicky Power, guys who can make huge folds I could never make like sets or kings preflop, make astounding calls with third pair or ace high and be right, so I've decided to gve up just folding marginal hands to overbets and try to think the hand through. I found it very hard to put the Bomber on a hand that was beating me: I was 99% sure he didn't have a set or an Ace as I'd seen him raise every ace and pair from the blinds to that point, so my read was he was either on a draw, or he had a worse pair but knew I didn't have an ace either and was betting the scare card (having seen me fold a lot). Eventually I called even though I was effectively crippling myself if I was wrong. Thankfully I wasn't wrong: he was on a draw, albeit the biggest one in town (10s8s). He missed on the river and that was that. When we chatted the next day he said he thought he misplayed the hand and should have check shoved the flop to get me off the hand. I probably would have folded to that action but in any case, hurray for calling stations. Everyone else at the table clearly thought it was a horrible call but you have to go with your read in these tournament situations.
By now the table had tightened up considerably and I worked my stack up from 20K to 40K simply by changing gears without having to show any bad cards.
Next monster pot, same loose player raises 3 BB's when I have aces in the BB. I'm trying to decide whether to flat or raise when to my surrise a tight Chinese guy who hasn't played a hand yet since he moved to the table shoves from the SB. After a bit of Hollywood I flatcall hoping to trap the other guy into the pot. A lot of players say you should alays shove here because the Aces have a better chance of standing up against one opponent. While that's true, the way I look at it is that the shove gives you typically 85-90% equity in a 2 tank pot, for a total of 1.7-1.8 tanks, if you get my drift. If you call and trap the other guy in, you have about 65% equity in a three tank pot, equivalent to 1.95 tanks. So I'm happy to take the bigger risk of getting sucked out on here.
Anyway, the other guy folded his A10 (he claimed), the Chinese guy flipped over AQ, there was a bit of a sweat on a queen high flop but the Aces held.
By now we were down to 3 tables and we were joined by a guy with even more chips than me. When he sat down I saw him carefully checking out all the stack sizes at the table, so I immediately pegged him as a guy who would try to bully with his stack. He looked at me and mine a lot more than the others so I figured he was trying to assess what type of player I would be as I was the only one at the table who could seriously damage him or put up resistance. He was quiet enough for the first couple of orbits, as was I, which seemed to encourage him to think I was just a tight rock who had caught some big hands. The table talk of the other players reenforced this. He therefore looened up and started playing most pots, but this is the Fitz where people love their low pairs and rag aces enough to reshove with them, so he took a few hits which put him back in his shell for a while. Then he loosened up again and started to target the tighter players, like me. He raised my blinds every opportunity until I picked up the hand of the day K9. I know orthodox theory contends that defending with K9 is horrible and by and large I agree but in this spcific spot I felt there were a few flops that could really get my opponent into trouble and by keeping the pot small I could move after the flop if I missed for the same cost if he really had a hand as raising preflop. Flop is 9xx with two clubs, and I check raise him. He intacalls with a strange petulant toss of the chips that I read as annoyance that the folding rock just played back at him, so I'm pretty certain I'm well ahead. Turn's a Q and I lead for just under half pot and he instashoves. Again, it looks like I'm beaten here but I decide to give myself thinking time. It looks to me like he either called with two overs and hit the queen, or he was trapping with a set or an overpair. The speed of the shove sows a bit of doubt in my mind though, as surely he'd need at least a little thinking time to decide whether to flat or shove. I work back through the hand and his bets make no real sense to me, so I smell a rat. There's also the question of pot odds. The call is just over 15K into a pot that already has 75K in there: getting odds of 5 to 1 you need to be pretty certain you're beaten. I think I am, but not 5 to 1 sure (more like 2 or 3 to 1 sure). The other thing is that even if I am beaten I probably have six outs so I'm almost getting the odds to suck out. As against that, if I fold I leave 25K behind which is still very playable, whereas if I call and lose I'm crippled. It's a big call but the more I thought about it the more bvious it seemed that I had to call, particularly since my opponents body lnguage got more and more frightened and defensive the longer I took to make my decision. So I eventually make the call thinking by God O'Kearney you're going to look like such a donkey when he shows you a set or a queen, but if you're worried about sometimes looking like a total donkey you probably shouldn't play tournament poker. As it happened, the guy says "I'm on a draw" and turns over K5s for a flush draw. He misses and I'm now chipleader.
This time everyone seemed to think it was a great call. I still wasn't so sure myself but thinking over it afterwards and talking it through with the brother I'm very happy with the call. It's one I'd have made instantly in my early days before I learned how to fold a hand, but one I couldn't have made until recently when I probably started folding too much. As I said, having observed guys like Rob and Nicky make big hero calls made me realise you sometimes have to go with your gut. The brother thought it was an amazing call in the circumstance and one he'd never have made but he said that getting decisions like that is what distinguishes the solid ABC players from the really great ones.
In between the two monsters pots I'd drifted back to 35K before winning a big pot on a total bluff. Early raiser, two callers including a very loose regular in the Fitz called Terry who nearly always plays his button, I jave J10s in the BB so I call. Flop is KQ4 with 2 clubs and it's checked around. Turn's a blank and it's checked around to Terry who bets 7K into the 12K pot. I strongly suspect a steal or a very marginal hand like an underpair here since he'd have bet a K or a Q on the flop because of the draws, so I flat call with the intention of betting the river no matter what comes. I miss and push more than half my stack in thinking this looks scarier than the shove and after some thought he folds. Phewski.
I'm now in great shape, although the table dynamic changes when Terry gets a bigger stack than me thanks to two sucks outs, a runner runner house against a flopped nut flush, and AQ v KK aipf. He goes into overdrive so I have to be more careful but at the same time I play back a bit just so he doesn't have it all his own way. I end the day with just under 120K: Terry has 130K as has Big Mick G who sucked out on Smurph's Aces with his AK.
I get a bad seat draw the next day with Big Mick G two to my left and Terry just behind him. Looking around with the average stack just 7M's and the chipleaders in the 10-15 range I knew it was virtually a turbo SNG and we were in Big Mick G territory, and so it proved. Absolutely nothing went right. I lost over 25% of my stack on the first two hands. First one I have A9 in the BB, call a raise from the SB, see a flop of QQJ, bet the flop, check the turn and fold the river (he shows Aces, ouch). Next one I raise AKs, get one caller behind, check fold an 864 flop and he shows a set of 6's. Then I lose the first of a few races: AK in the BB, shortie shoves on the button with Q's and holds. Same guy shoves same spot next time with 10's, I call with AQ, he holds again. Lose a few more races against short stacks only I catch my only break of the day. Shortie pushes, it costs me 10K to call in the BB into a 24K pot so I'm calling any two. He has 76, I have J9, I hold. Big Mick G compliments me on the call and says the guy seemed surprised I called with J9 but he had fold equity and I confirmed I'd have called with any two. Mick says the guy had no fold equity but really concepts like fold equity and pot odds are almost unknown in the Fitz so people do get surprised when you call with shit, especially if they think you're a rock. For example, a guy who had just been crippled shoved for 12K, the big blind getting 3 to 1 to call folded!
The last race I lost crippled me down to 30K, also known as 5 BBs, but from there I worked back up to 80K without showing a card by picking my shove spots well. When I was eventually called by the chipleader who was playing very tight (AA-QQ, AK, AQ basically), we had the same hand (AQ) and split. By now we were 6 handed, the blinds were racing around, average M was about 5, and I was about to be coolered. I shoved with jacks in the SB over a button raise, Big Mick G woke up with aces in the BB, and to rub it in hit an ace. No getting away from that, by now the structure dictated a fast resolution, Denise is commiserating with me when the next guy gets knocked out very next hand, and by the time I get home 40 minutes later, the whole thing is over. Well done to Mick G on another great result for him.
Obviously I was disappointed having come within 30 minutes of a chop and a ticket but in these situations most of the poker is gone by the time you hit the FT and it comes down to races and coolers, and on both those scores it just didn't happen for me. At least I ended my recent slump with another cash, albeit a minor one. As herself pointed out afterwards, you'd have made way more in two days in the old job. Or even playing online.
Still, happy with my consistency on the live tournament front. I've had a decent cash every month since April and if I can keep getting myself into these positions consistently, I have to think the next major score isn't too far off. I also enjoyed playing in the Fitz again, which I still regard as my spiritual poker home, had good crack with Rob and Kat on the first day (Rob's a pool hustler! Why wasn't I told this brilliant fact earlier?), and a nice chat with the Bomber one the second day. The Bomber gave me his card, and it's great to see someone like him getting sponsored. When you meet the English sponsored pros, more often than not you come away thinking I never want to play on that dick's site, so kudos to the Irish sites for selecting better ambassadors like the Bomber and Nicky Power and Rob.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

103 off, 82 off, and other monsters

"Your rock reputation is slipping a bit".

Something Nicky Power said to me after Macau, and it's true that when I first appeared on the poker scene I got away with murder for a while by playing very few hands but playing most of them like I had pocket rockets preflop, or the mortal nuts postflop. Of course I was never going to fool the better payers for very long that my starting range was about 4 hands and ever since Neill Kelly announced to the room in Tramore that I was all in with shit (Q4o to be precise) against Big Mick G's AQ (the brother was playing the side event and said most of his table audibly gasped when they heard my hand, and I had people coming up to me for the rest of the day to verify their ears hadn't deceived them), the old image has slipped (still works in the UK though!).

A lot of players I know start out very tight (which is good strategy for a novice anyway) and gradually loosen up, but I'm always had LAG tendencies. While the brother is both by nature and practise the ultimate TAG stroke nit, I wasn't above playing shit in what I judged to be the right spots. In fact, since the start I estimate at least 20% of my cash game profits come from targeting TAGs and nits for steals. The first time I used PokerTracker to analyse which hands I was winning money with and which hands were losers for me, I found to my surprise and secret delight the biggest winner at that point was 82o. That's not to say I considered it the mortal nuts, more often than not I was still folding it preflop, but variance meant that on a few occasions I went with it as a stealing or squeezing hand, hit the flop big, and got paid. Its reign as biggest winner didn't last very long either: ironically enough queens, one of my most hated tournament hands as it's probably dumped me out of more tourneys than any other, is consistently my biggest winner.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon saw me in the Square in Tallaght trying out the poker room there for the first time. I met Macspower from Boards before and had a very interesting chat with him. Only 20 starters I think, and I was first out. The tournament brought me back to my early days in the Fitz with 7 way family pots, people calling big raises with any two, and going mental if they hit a pair any pair. I played almost no hands in the first hour as I sized up the table before I found myself in the BB with 103o in a 7 way limped pot. Flop is Q103 with two clubs so have bottom two and check. A very aggressive ATC guy overbets (over 2 x pot). I've already seen him do this with (for example) bottom pair or a draw, so when everyone folds I repop by three. After a long dwell he shoves. I think for a while. Against, say, Rob Taylor, I'd probably fold, but getting over 5 to 2 on the call against someone with so many hands in his range that I'm ahead of (flush draw, KJ, J9, Q, 10 or 3) I figure it's a pretty standard call. He's actually got Q10 so I exit feeling pretty stupid.

I like the idea of daytime poker though and would strongly recommend it to anyone in the area.

My early exit gave me a whole afternoon off, so I arranged to meet Mireille in town to go see a film (Somer's Town, excellent). While waiting for her, I met the brother and he gave me some PLO tips for that night's Jackpot Monthly tournament. The main one being to play the PLO pretty tight and stay out of trouble. He also said that the PLO rounds tend to decide these round-of-each tournaments, sometimes to the point where the holdem is almost meaningless.

Only 15 or 16 starts and it was a high quality field that included Mick Stevens and Donal Norton, both of whom I shared a beer and interesting conversation with at the break. Mick in particular is a very thoughtful player with interesting ideas on the game.

What little value there was in the tournament was mainly supplied by a couple of Chinese gentlemen, one in particular didn't seem to have a notion what he was doing. He gradually donated his stack to me over series of bizarre hands.

Hand one: I've limped 7's and been reraised. Normally I'd tend to fold out of position to a single raiser but since it was him I decided it would be ok to play. Flop is 988, not the worst flop for me since my guess at this point is he has two picture cards. Check, call, planning to see what the turn brings and if he keeps firing. Turns a 6 so now I'm open-ended and it's an easy call when he bets. River's horrible for me, a 9 counterfeiting my 7's so that now I'm barely beating the board and losing to any card higher than a 7. I mentally check/fold but to my surprise he checks behnd. To my bgger surprise, he mucks when I show the 7's. There's general consternation at the table and the general impression is he misread the hand and mucked a winning hand, but on reflection it could also be an overplayed lower pair.

Next hand is Omaha and I have 10's on a KK10 board. I trap check call. He fires again on the turn and I call again. I lead the river, he raises, and suddenly I think Christ he could have something gay like K5 or K3 here so I just call and he announces flush. There are 4 hearts on the board and he thinks the lone ace in his hand gives him a flush but the dealer announces "pair of kings with an ace kicker". While he beats himself up about it, Donal helpfully points out to him that even if he had had the flush, he was still behind.

Next big hand I hero called him down with a jack high flush in Omaha and it was good.

Very next hand I have AA104 doublesuited in the SB and reraise pot preflop, everyone else drops out but he stays in. I lead out for pot on a fairly nondescript flop although I do also have a nut flush draw, he raises, I shove, he called with QQ83 and no draw.

All of which ensured I made the final table in decent shape with an above average stack. I barely won a hand there though. Two sets of 6's started the damage. First I was too clever by half limping with pocket aces hoping one of the livewires behind would raise and instead ending up in a 4 way limped pot. Flop looks safe enough, K96 rainbow, so when it's checked around I bet half pot. Everyone calls. Alrm bells should maybe have gone off at that point byt when a J hit the turn and it was checked around again, I took another half pot stab. Mick Stevens called in the SB, Donal reraised in the BB, and after some thought I folded as I was almost certainly beaten. Mick folded and Donal showed pocket 6's. At the time I was annoyed with myself for playing the hand this way but from a purely results oriented view it probably worked out best for me. If I play it normally, I raise the initial limper, but I suspect Donal calls anyway in the BB with his 6's, and in a headsup pot I'm more likely to go mad and think my overpair is good at get it all in on the flop or turn.

Next hand is Omaha, board is dry as hell (1063 rainbow), I'm sitting with a well disguised overpair again (queens this time) which I bet when it's checked round to me, but I have to fold when Mick check raises me. Pretty standard Omaha fold I think on a board with no draws. He shows 6's.

I then lost an allin race against a shortie, and the same guy effectively crippled me in a hand that exposed the glaring weakness in my Omaha flop play, which is not being sure how likely it is I'm ahead and as a result going into station mode. It's a typical MW pot and I have AJ64, flop is JJ2 with two diamonds (meaning I also have the nut flush draw). Checked around to the button who bets pot, almost half his stack. Here is where my brain seemed to shut down. After some thought I decided I was probably ahead (duh, since I'm only losing to J2 or 22) and the hand most likely to give me action was one with the remaining jack. The button's bet didn't necessarily signify he had the jack, it could be a steal in position from someone getting a bit short. If I reraised, I figured he was pot committed and would call anyway, but I'd probably scare away a weaker jack in someone else's hand. On the other hand, if I flatcalled now, a weaker jack might also come along (or better yet repop), and at the very least I'd find out if there was another jack out there. I also figured the button's chips were going allin on the turn regardless, so I just flatcalled.

Everyone else folded so now I figured I was either up against a weaker jack (most likely) or a pair of ducks (less likely, since I think the shortie would have tried to build a pot more slowly). a 7 on the turn seemed to chane nothing, only it did because when all the chips went in I found my opponent had J743 or some such. No ace from space and I was crippled. If any good PLO players out there would like to comment and tell me how I should have played this hand, I'd be most grateful.

Now I was so short I needed a double or triple up to get back in it. I figured Omaha was my best bet for this so I was hoping for a big pair hand or at least one with lots of high cards and flush possibilities that I could jam preflop. Most pots were 5 or 6 way limped so I figured a jam in one of these had a good chance of getting me headsup against a hand I was favourite again getting almost 2 to 1 on my money. With everyone's M's shrinking I figured most people wouldn't want to get involved for 20-40% of their stack preflop multiway so I'd maybe only get a call from the last limper.

Nice plan maybe (again, comments from better PLO players appreciated) but unfortunately no such opportunity arose. Eventually I'm in the BB, it's multiway, I flop top and bottom two pair (10-3 again!) on a board with two hearts so I jam it in figuring I'll get called by a flush draw. Actually two callers, one of whom is one the flush draw, which hits on the river. Oh well, c'est la vie. Or ma vie.

Overall I was happy with my play. I think I'm improving steadily at the PLO although there's a long way to go before the L plates come off, and I made some big calls that turned out to be correct in the hold'em. One aspect of my game that I can identify that has improved quite a bit recently is how I play small and medium pairs out of position. I observed The Fox playing them masterfully in Waterford and picked up a few new ideas and tricks.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Entitlement, entiltment and pain

These days I seem to be mainly faffing around online to no great effect. The long term plan is to concentrate on medium/high stakes cash and high stakes SNGs but for now, I'm mixing it up.
Last night's session started with a couple of sats (no joy, bubbled one) and ended up with me 9 tabling across 4 different sites. Main focus was a couple of medium stakes NL cash tables, secondary focus was 3 MTTs in the $30-$100 buyin range, and just for shits and giggles a couple of low stakes limit cash tables, a limit tournament and a PLO tournament. Apart from anything else, I like the challenge of having to play several different types of poker at once.
My online MTT game is a lot different from what it used to be and what my live game is still, I'd say I tend to be the early chipleader in 10-20% of them, but my cash rate is nowhere near as good live. Just not patient enough I suppose. So it was last night: chipleader in one tournament from about 100 left to about 10 before the cash, and then just as I was counting the 5 figure first prize mentally, crash bang two bad beats wallop out. I immediately cashed out of the NL cash games for fear of monkey tilt causing me to spew the night's hard won profits.
I of course had no choice but to continue in the Limit and PLO tourneys, and left the limit cash games open too. I made the final table of both tournaments but bubbled in the limit. I got heads up in the PLO before being two outered on the river. The weird thing was that in neither case did I feel even the slightest pang of pain or even regret: I just shrugged and took the beats. The stakes weren't that high which undoubtedly helps, but I think a bigger reason is that I didn't feel entitled to win either. I felt I had at best a smallish skill edge in the limit, and a serious skill deficit in the PLO (lifetime experience: one live tournament, 3 online tournaments), so even getting headsup in the PLO felt like a bonus/accomplishment. I thought back to my very first live NLH tournament. As I've written before, it was in the Fitz just over a year ago, and I ended up losing headsup to Smurph and a runner runner flush. As we walked home, the brother was on tilt for me going on and on about how unlucky I was and the difference between first and second, but I was just thrilled to have come out of my first NLH tournament (I was primarily an online limit low stakes cash game player at the time) with a result.
When I compare that to the kind of steamage I feel these days after live tourney exits, I can't help but think I had a much healthier attitude back then. I didn't feel entitled to anything so everything was a bonus. But on the other hand, if you're to progress at anything, it's probably no bad thing to come to hate losing. As the saying goes, show me a good loser and I'll show you a loser. Losing should hurt. Pain is nature's way of discouraging harmful behaviour and bad habits, and losing is a bad habit to get into. Ultra runners have an intimate relationship with pain: your ability to perform in any given event being ultimately determined by the amount of pain you are willing to endure. In a sense, you have to learn to love pain, to actively court it, and a lot of the training works primarily by raising your pain threshold.
I had a chat about tilt with another player recently. He admitted tilt was a major problem for him, and he'd spunked away a lot of tournaments because of it. I told him I never tilt during tournaments (cash games are a different matter). This is actually true, though the key word is "during". My monkey tilt period starts just after I exit the tournament (which is why I tend not to jump straight into a cash game or another tournament any more), thankfully too late to do any damage. If I take a bad beat during a tournament I can always refocus on the new situation, stack size and so on. This applies even when multitabling online: I seem to have no trouble compartmentalizing so that the bad beat which dumps me out of one MTT doesn't affect me in the others.
Live plan for this week is to try out the daytime poker in Tallaght on Friday, then head to the Jackpot for their monthly game that evening, and play the IPT things in the Fitz on Saturday and Sunday.
On the running front, I'm still in my psycho heavy training phase, involving two runs a day and a gym session every second or third day. Also putting a lot of effort into the mental side of things as I try to psyche myself up for the horrors ahead in my second World 24 Hour championships in Seoul. If you haven't yet read my description of what the first one was like (when I literally ran myself into a wheelchair, check out the Running, my finest hour link at the side.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Waterford and me, we go back, lemme tell you

40 years ago, I arrived in Waterford in the middle of the night in the back of an ambulance charged with taking me from Wexford regional hospital to Ardkeen. The reasons for the sudden move are not clear even now: I suppose either it was felt in Wexford that there was a better class of equipment, specialist or drug in Waterford, or they thought a dead three year old boy would look bad on their books and decided to pass the buck. Sickly from birth or at least shortly thereafter, I'd spent most of my first three years of living apparently on the verge of dying from one respiratory illness or another. In retrospect it was probably a case of an immune system compromised by very bad asthma and allergies to just about everything I encountered or was ever likely to in my environment, but at the time it had the finest medical minds of Brownswood (nice hospital in Enniscorthy), Wexford (kip), Crumlin (bigger kip), Wexford again and finally Ardkeen baffled.
In Ardkeen they pumped me full of every antibiotic they could lay their hands on, took out my tonsils, and watched and waited over the course of several months during which I progressed from death's door to a neighbouring parish occupied by the still sickly but stable. Most of that watching was done by an angelic nurse I remember as Claire (or Clare maybe), who read me fairytales of Bean De Valera in the evenings and mopped my sweats away as I heaved and hacked through another night's dance with death. Cla(i)re showed me the kind of unconditional unquestioning devotion I'd never come across before, but have come to expect from all my women since. Yes, every last one is measured by the yardstick of Cla(i)re.
My parents came to visit me very occasionally (I think they'd more or less given up on me by now, but visited occasionally for fear of it looking bad otherwise), so that by the time the hospital decided they'd given me enough time to die and I was just abusing their hospitality at this stage, there was very little of whatever little parent-child bonds ever existed between us left. As I remember, I didn't even recognise my father and needed repeated assurances before I'd take their word for it that he was, and as for my mother, well, I believe I made it clear at the time that while I wished to thank her for bringing me into the world, I'd decided I was better off sticking with Cla(i)re, so she could be on her way with that guy claiming to be my father.
I was devastated when it emerged this wasn't an option, and I had to go with these people back to their damp thyphoid-inducing kip in Enniscorthy.
I bided my time and 15 years later got off the train in Waterford, and walked up the hill for an interview with Ernst and Young. As I remember it, the interview went glowingly and I was more or less offered the trainee accountantship on the spot, subject to satisfactory Leaving Cert results, which I knew wouldn't be a problem. But by the time I'd walked back down the hill to the train station the glow had worn off and suddenly the idea no longer appealed to me. Waterford wasn't the problem: it was and still is a charming place populated by gentle lovable eccentrics like Cla(i)re. No: it was simply the thought of 45 years of filling up tax forms and balancing credits and debits and producing PNL reports and balance sheets that made me shudder. So I got on the train knoing I'd never sarken the doorsteps of either Messrs Ernst and/or Young again.
So Waterford and me, well, there's a bit of history there.
Last week's trip was for a happier reason, or three. My mate Mark reckons you need three good reasons to do anything and mine were:(1) Family holiday(2) Somewhere nice to train and get out of my running rut(3) Poker.
(1) was a big success: anywhere in Ireland that isn't Dublin is always a pretty easy sell to Mireille, and by the end of the week she was sneakily checking house prices and dropping subtle hints about it being a nice place to retire to (well, as subtle as she gets: "We're retiring here").
(2) was a great success too: we were staying on a golf course (Faithlegg) within whiffing distance of the estuary which turned out to be a great place to run so long as you watched out for golfers on the 4th tee preparing to belt a golf ball across the road towards the 4th green.
(3) was, well, not such a great success personally.
We got there on Monday and spent a good hour trying to figure out which of the many number 13's was our place.
On Tuesday I scoped out a running route that took me out through the car park, a lane, past a football pitch, down a few boreens, back out onto the main(ish) road, and back into the golf course keeping a careful eye on the 4th tee, for a loop just shy of a mile and a half. Long enough not to be too boring to repeat on the longer runs, short enough that there was the constant reenforcement of solid progress. I did an easy hour in the morning, a tougher hour in the afternoon, and a two hour core training exercise programme in the evening, which left no time for poker.
I got my runs out of the way earlyish Wednesday, all the better to make my debut in the Blazin Aces, a very charming place to play poker. The locals were extrememly endearing and friendly, and the standard was way higher than I expected. My previous excursions into what my daughter calls culchieland had me pretty much convinced that people outside Dublin generally can't play poker (but Galwegians and Corkonians are tremendous pokerbingo players and card catchers), but on the evidence of two nights in the Blazin Aces, the overall standard is higher than any other club I've ever played in. It's a small pool of players, and I guess the influence of some local superstars like Nicky Power and Brian "The Fox" O'Keeffe is to raise all boats. At least that's Nicky's theory. There's also a very nice atmosphere and camaraderie in the club that you'd never get in, say, Dublin, which makes it possible for the good players to transmit knowledge to the new players, and I imagine the club will continue to be a breeding ground for good players.
Anyway, I don't remember too much about Wednesday's night's tournament except that The Fox took me out on the second last table in a he-thought-I-thought-he-was-at-it hand where his AK outrivered my queens. The Hilton sisters: my most hated hand. It was my first encounter with The Fox and I was an immediate fan. As Nicky said to me later at the weekend, they don't call him the Fox for nothing. He's a hard man to read or put on cards, with every gear and trick in the book, and the type of unorthodox LAG game I always enjoy seeing when it's done well. Like a lot of great players he has great presence at he table too.
On Thursday I got up early for my morning run, then we headed for Cork to meet an old flame of Mireille's, now a distinguished professor and anaesthologist in Germany. Notwithstanding the fact that he literally puts people to sleep for a living, Dr. Schubert is a very nice and very interesting guy. We got back in time for me to do my evening run and then head to the Aces for a super satellite to the weekend's Main event. I had a very up and down tournament that saw me down to fumes at several points but eventually I got one of the three tickets on offer (The Fox and a good young local lad taking the other two). I was very happy with how I played, I had the Fox to my immediate left pretty much for the whole tournament and having someone that good and that tricky sitting with position on you is the best way to keep you on your toes. I hit quad aces early on but didn't get paid much, then doubled up when I shoved with a flush draw and overs and hit, then drifted back until Laura was moved to my table. Laura's a lovely girl and a great player who was chipleader or close by this time but the chips started moving my way thanks to a couple of flopped sets. The hand that did her in was the most interesting one I was involved in all week: she limped on the button. I woke up with aces in the SB. With the Fox sitting behind me in the BB, I decided to make a rare excursion from ABC so I just completed. Every other time it had been limped to the Fox in the BB he'd raised big so I was hoping he would again, but this time he didn't. Oh well, my disappointment didn't last long: only as long as it took to see a flop of A1010. I instachecked expecting someone to stab, but this wasn't Limerick and it got checked around. A jack on the turn, I checked again, as did the Fox, and finally Laura bet 1600. I not much more than min raised, hoping the Fox might read the action as steal, resteal, but there's no fooling the Fox who folded after commenting that if I hadn't raised, he would have. Back round to Laura and I almost wet myself when I heard her say "All in". She had KQ for the straight and had therefore just been coolered, which she took with characteristic grace, while the Fox complimented me on my sneaky preflop play, noting it was impossible to put me on that hand.
Having qualified for the weekend's ME gave me Friday off pokerwise, so I decided to shift the killer run my coach had scheduled for Saturday forward a day as I couldn't see myself playing my best after several hours of alternating 2 miles at 6 minute pace with 2 at 7 minute pace, times 10. The run went very well, so I went for a walk with Mireille and Oisin afterwards, and that evening did another core training session. Originally designed by Peter Coe for his son Sebastian, it's a bit of a killer (1000 squats, 110 pressups, 160 stepups, 250 abdominal crunches, 120 situps etc.) that always leaves me thinking how much more suited it must have been to Seb's smaller leaner lighter body than mine.
I still felt fine after it but woke up early the next morning feeling very tired. I had to force myself out the door for my pre-breakfast one hour recovery run, and it was a real trudge/slog. After breakfast I went out for my second run of the day and it was much better, so I guess the recovery run did the trick. A quick bath and some more food and it was time to head for The Tower for the Main Event.
I started reasonably well, working the 10K starting stack up to about 14K. I then got moved to a table that featured Rob Taylor on my left and Rory Liffey on my right, and managed to lose two thirds of my stack in just two hands. First one I had aces, raised utg, got repopped by the SB, which I flatcalled. At this stage I think I'm most likely up against a picture card pair (or maybe ace king, or ace queen, but less likely since I have two aces) so I'm essentially trapping. The flop is horrible for me though: KJx, meaning two of the three hands I'm most likely facing have just hit a set, and the other one isn't paying me a penny. My opponent instachecks which also pretty much screams set. I check behind, the turn's a blank, and he leads out for 1800, just under half pot. At the time I thought I should probably have gone with my read and just folded but after some thought and discussion decided my call is ok here as it could be a probe bet with some hand I'm still beating (like queens). When a blank hit the river my opponent bet 3K and I was done with the hand. He showed his kings.
Next pot, I'm playing ace queen heads up against the BB and see a flop of Q10x. Check, bet, call. 9 on the turn, check, bet, raise, and I fold pretty much sure he hit a straight with KJ even if he didn't show. OTOH, he was a good enough player to know I could be bluffed off a hand having seen me just put down aces, so who knows. But I read him for strength and you have to trust your read.
I then drifted down until I was virtually killed off in a pot where I ran a flush into a slightly bigger one. With the blinds at 200/400 and me in the SB with just 1200 behind, I completed with 65s. No point in shoving I thought: Rob was just behind me and obviously good enough to call with any two cards. Flop is A62, I shove to protect and Rob folds. 2K now, still on life support, but with Rory Liffey raising more frequently than a flag-owning patriotic American I was hopeful of a good spot to double back up into the game, and it duly arrived when I picked up AJ. Rory raised early, I shoved, Rob folded 3's behind me, folded around to Rory, who dwells for ages even though it's only 1100 into a pot of 3500, so I know he has a sack of shit. Which he has: 75 off. Flop is Jack high (with a 3, phew, nice fold Rob) and I hold.
Shortly after the table breaks and I got moved to a table best described as messy. Birthday boy Nicky Power was in great form both pokerwise and spiritually, composing songs in the genre of ""There's only one Rory Liffey/Dara O'Kearney/He pisses...." and abusing big Al's decision to sell shares in his Vegas trip at 300% ("Phil Ivey's not worth that much"), and there were some other good players there. I seem to be incapable of playing well at the same table as Nicky but I got an early better than double up when my jacks outraced ace king, and then big Al doubled me up in a strange hand. He limped from mid position, small blind called, and I checked with A8s in the big blind. Flop is J102 with two of my suit (spades), and it goes check, check, pot, fold, call. 10 of spades completes my nut flush on the turn, I figure big Al will keep betting at it as long as I let him so I check, and he bets again. River's a blank and thinking he might smell a rat and check a hand behind, I bet about half my stack, less than half pot. He shoves, I call, he announces two pair (jack I suppose) and Nicky ribs him along the lines of "What else could the cockroach have had?"
Shortly after that we broke to the second last table, and I didn't win another pot. My exit hand was petty standard; down to 8200 with the blinds 400/800, I shoved utg with AQ and it was folded to the BB. Along the way there was some speech play by Nicky ("I fold my 10s") and Rory ("Queens no good") reenforcing my rock credentials so I was expecting the raise to get through until the BB went into the tank. More speechplay by Nicky ("Call if you beat KQ, fold otherwise" which it turns out is exactly right given my range), and Nicky called clock. My opponent had less of a read on my range because he called with 10's, which it turns out is a slight favourite against the bottom-of-my-range hand I have, but a 6 to 4 dog against the whole range. In any case, it turned out to be a good call since he won the race.
Afterwards I walked back to Faithlegg not particularly happy with my performance. I don't think I did anything particularly horrible but my play was pretty mechanical. It may be the after effects of the hard running training as I've noticed before that the day after a brutal run it's as if I sink into a kind of stupor at the table, playing like it was the Internet, by which I mean my hand selection and lines are reasonably okay if a little too predictable, but I miss out on the finer points of physical tells, table dynamics, mood shifts and so on that are normally my strong point live. Some of my play in the 10-20 big blinds stack range was weak at a time when I should have been looking to push on rather than simply survive or wait for the nuts to double up.
Just before I left, Rob got a very big stack on the other table with a beautiful shove with aces preflop, and Cat was in good shape too, so I was hopeful when I came back the next day they'd both be at the final table, but Rob unluckily bubbled. Cat was there but short but she showed her usual patience and discipline before doubling up with a cleverly played set. She then was unlucky enough to run kings into aces (and queens) but she's making a habit of outlasting Rob and 95% of the field and it's only a matter of time before she gets a really big result. She also has great table presence.
Nicky was there too looking a lot more contrite than the previous day. A whole night and I still hadn't come up with a suitable continuation to "There's only one Nicky Power/He pisses....".
Final day's side event never really got going for me. In fact I never got above starting stack and spent most of the tournament circling the drain until a mini recovery just after the dinner break when some ninja short-stacked short-handed pushbot poker saw me treble my stack back up to starting stack without showing a card. That saw me through to the second last table but card death continued and it ended in ignominy shoving with shit, sooted shit, on the button and running into a pair of 9's. I actually became favourite on a flop with two of my suit, some runner runner straight possibilities and an overcard, but I missed everything. Cat and Rob were both still in and I'd resolved to hang around and rail them, but it turns out I'm just a bad loser so instead I stormed off into the night as per usual.
Well done to Nicky who was involved in yet another chop. I still haven't come up with a suitable continuation bet to "There's only one Nicky Power/He pisses....".

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