The other day at the Million Dollar Heater at the Beau Rivage I played in three tournaments. Those of you who play tournament poker know this story isn't going to turn out well. If you're playing in three tournaments in one day you probably didn't do too well in the first two.
The first tournament of this particular day was the noon tournament. I had lasted a couple of hours when I got into a pretty big hand. I won't bother you with the particulars but I got all in after the flop against another guy. I was in the lead and the only realistic way he had to catch up was to catch either a Queen or a Seven on the turn or the river to make his straight. Well, you know the rest of the story....he caught a Queen on the river and put me out of the tournament. It just happens.
From the noon tournament I moved on over to the STT tables and entered an STT. I played pretty tight and had roughly starting chips at either the third or fourth blind level. Again, I won't bother you with the details but I got all in after the flop against another guy. I was in the lead and the only realistic way he had to catch up was to catch either a Queen or a Seven on the turn or the river to make his straight. Guess what......you know the rest of the story again..........he caught a Queen on the river and put me out of the tournament. Not only does it just happen but it just happened again.
Then I entered the 4pm tournament. A couple of hours into the tournament I moved all in after the flop on a semi-bluff and found myself behind and needing either a Queen or a Seven on either the turn or river to survive. Neither card came and I was out of the tournament. Apparently, "things just happen" didn't apply to me when I needed it. I guess sometimes things just don't happen.
All we can hope for is to get our money in good. After that what happens happens and that's all there is to it.
See you at the tables.
Monday, January 26, 2015
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Frame of Mind
Back in May I wrote a blog entitled "Bad Runs". In that blog I described how my game had basically gone to pot. As I said in the blog, it all started with some bad luck and developed into a mental attitude of scared money. The "bad run" had gotten into my head.
I said back in May that I "won't be traveling to any more series and I won't be making the trek to Vegas this summer unless and until I turn my game around. I'll be playing the Friday and Saturday tournaments at the Beau until I get my bearings".
I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I've been strictly playing the poker room tournaments at the Beau with the lone exception of playing a couple of tournaments at the IP during their WSOP circuit event. As expected my initial results were nothing to write home about (or to write in a blog about). However, I started to turn things around in July. Just as in the original blog I declined to "bore you with specific bad beat stories" I won't now bore you with the details of my ever growing good run. Let's just say that my success rate has improved dramatically and continues to improve every week. Consequently I'm about to jump back into the saddle of circuit poker.
I believe I already knew it but my "bad run" followed by my turning my game around has enforced my belief that poker is mostly a matter of frame of mind. During my bad run I became convinced that nothing I did was going to work out well. Now I'm convinced that I have a chance to win any tournament I enter.
Henry Ford once said "Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're right". Old Henry's wisdom encapsulates my earlier struggles and my recent resurgence.
Wish me luck.
See you at the tables.
I said back in May that I "won't be traveling to any more series and I won't be making the trek to Vegas this summer unless and until I turn my game around. I'll be playing the Friday and Saturday tournaments at the Beau until I get my bearings".
I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I've been strictly playing the poker room tournaments at the Beau with the lone exception of playing a couple of tournaments at the IP during their WSOP circuit event. As expected my initial results were nothing to write home about (or to write in a blog about). However, I started to turn things around in July. Just as in the original blog I declined to "bore you with specific bad beat stories" I won't now bore you with the details of my ever growing good run. Let's just say that my success rate has improved dramatically and continues to improve every week. Consequently I'm about to jump back into the saddle of circuit poker.
I believe I already knew it but my "bad run" followed by my turning my game around has enforced my belief that poker is mostly a matter of frame of mind. During my bad run I became convinced that nothing I did was going to work out well. Now I'm convinced that I have a chance to win any tournament I enter.
Henry Ford once said "Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're right". Old Henry's wisdom encapsulates my earlier struggles and my recent resurgence.
Wish me luck.
See you at the tables.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Cupid
And now for a human interest story with absolutely no moral whatsoever. It's just interesting.
The other day at the Gulf Coast Poker Championship at the Beau I was approached by a complete stranger during one of the breaks. He said he was certain I didn't remember him but he had a story to tell me. We stepped to the side out of the crowd and the following is his story:
"About four years ago I was playing in a tournament here at the Beau at the same table with you. We were getting fairly deep in the tournament and you had a pretty large chip stack. You got into a big hand with a young lady at the other end of the table and the end result of the hand was her elimination.
She seemed pretty distraught. I'm sure you didn't notice because you were too busy stacking chips. I'm also sure you didn't notice that I got up from the table and followed her outside to console her. I had never met her but just felt like she needed a bit of comfort at the time. We got to talking and one thing led to another. We have been a couple ever since that chance meeting and we are both deliriously happy."
He wanted to take a photo with me to show her and tell her about meeting me and our conversation.
As I said. No moral to this story. Just interesting. You never know how your seemingly random actions can affect other people. Who knew I was Cupid in disguise?
The other day at the Gulf Coast Poker Championship at the Beau I was approached by a complete stranger during one of the breaks. He said he was certain I didn't remember him but he had a story to tell me. We stepped to the side out of the crowd and the following is his story:
"About four years ago I was playing in a tournament here at the Beau at the same table with you. We were getting fairly deep in the tournament and you had a pretty large chip stack. You got into a big hand with a young lady at the other end of the table and the end result of the hand was her elimination.
She seemed pretty distraught. I'm sure you didn't notice because you were too busy stacking chips. I'm also sure you didn't notice that I got up from the table and followed her outside to console her. I had never met her but just felt like she needed a bit of comfort at the time. We got to talking and one thing led to another. We have been a couple ever since that chance meeting and we are both deliriously happy."
He wanted to take a photo with me to show her and tell her about meeting me and our conversation.
As I said. No moral to this story. Just interesting. You never know how your seemingly random actions can affect other people. Who knew I was Cupid in disguise?
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Being Honest With Yourself
Like a lot of other poker players I track my winnings and losses. Personally, I do it with a spreadsheet and graph the results. I'm sure there are multiple ways to track how you're doing, that's just the way I do it.
I've been having a rough poker year. In fact, this year is (so far) the worst year of my poker career. My results had gotten so bad that I had quit updating my spreadsheet. I knew I was way behind but didn't really want to know just how far behind. It was too depressing.
A month or so ago I stepped back and evaluated the situation and changed my game accordingly. My results have improved quite a bit.
So.........I decided this morning to update my spreadsheet and graph and see how it looks. In one word: "Depressing". The silver lining is that the last month or so looks a lot better than the overall picture. I can at least take solace in the fact that the situation is improving.
I wasn't really lying to myself by not keeping my spreadsheet updated. I knew I wasn't doing well, just didn't know exactly how bad it was. I guess you could say I was shielding myself from the gory details. Well the details have now seen the full light of day and they're ugly.
If there's a moral to all this it would be a reminder that the worst person you can lie to is yourself. Worse than lying to your wife, your best friend, or even God. Lying to yourself is the worst and it is particularly bad if a poker player is lying to himself.
My results have gotten better of late but I'm not lying to myself---my game could still use a lot of improvement and I'm working on it.
See you at the tables.
I've been having a rough poker year. In fact, this year is (so far) the worst year of my poker career. My results had gotten so bad that I had quit updating my spreadsheet. I knew I was way behind but didn't really want to know just how far behind. It was too depressing.
A month or so ago I stepped back and evaluated the situation and changed my game accordingly. My results have improved quite a bit.
So.........I decided this morning to update my spreadsheet and graph and see how it looks. In one word: "Depressing". The silver lining is that the last month or so looks a lot better than the overall picture. I can at least take solace in the fact that the situation is improving.
I wasn't really lying to myself by not keeping my spreadsheet updated. I knew I wasn't doing well, just didn't know exactly how bad it was. I guess you could say I was shielding myself from the gory details. Well the details have now seen the full light of day and they're ugly.
If there's a moral to all this it would be a reminder that the worst person you can lie to is yourself. Worse than lying to your wife, your best friend, or even God. Lying to yourself is the worst and it is particularly bad if a poker player is lying to himself.
My results have gotten better of late but I'm not lying to myself---my game could still use a lot of improvement and I'm working on it.
See you at the tables.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Bubble Boy
I only play in the final ("Championship") event of a series if I've made enough money during the series to cover it or if I happen to satellite my way in. I don't play many "megas" simply because I'm not too fond of rebuy tournaments so I don't often satellite my way in. Therefore, I'm not a regular in the final tournament of a series.
A few years ago I played in one of these "Championship" events. It was a $5k buy-in and I had made enough during the series to cover it. This was the most I had ever paid out of my pocket to enter a poker tournament.
I made it down to the final nineteen and they were paying eighteen places. Eighteenth place paid a little over $8k and, since a $5k entry was such a big deal to me, I was determined to make the cut. I was at a tough table. Chad Brown was one seat to my left and Vanessa Rousso was a couple of seats to my right. Most of the remaining players at the table were professionals. I was a little short stacked at this point but one guy at my table was a little more short stacked than me. Long story short I waited him out and made the money. Of course, by then I was so extremely short stacked that I went out in eighteenth place.
While I was proud to make my money back I have regretted my play at that tournament ever since.
Last year I played in a $1k entry tournament during the Venetian Deep Stack series. I made it to the second day and really close to the money. The first hand of the second day I called a raise with a 20 point blackjack hand. After the flop I had an open ended straight draw and a back door flush draw. I shoved. This was a fairly aggressive move at this point in the tournament. He called with an over pair and I didn't make my draw. Out on the first hand of the second day. I've never regretted that move.
This weekend I played the $50k guarantee tournament at the Beau. I made it to the second day. We had forty players left and they were paying thirty-six places. Ten of us were short stacked (less than ten big blinds). The draw for the button found me in the big blind for the first hand. The action folded around to the button and he limped. The small blind folded. With pocket fives I shoved. Since I had only three big blinds the button limper called. He had 69o and hit a 9 on the turn. Once again, I was gone the first hand of the final day. Again, no regrets. I really believe it was the right play and would do it again.
When I play a tournament I'm not there to min-cash. When we get down near the bubble I'm not generally looking to just make the money. I want to win the tournament. That's just who I am.
I'm not saying my philosophy is right. In fact a really good argument could be made that I'm dead wrong. I bubble a lot of tournaments. I also win a few along the way. My philosophy of not playing for the bubble is consistent with my philosophy of not chopping at the final table. I came to win.
I would welcome any comments.
See you at the tables.
A few years ago I played in one of these "Championship" events. It was a $5k buy-in and I had made enough during the series to cover it. This was the most I had ever paid out of my pocket to enter a poker tournament.
I made it down to the final nineteen and they were paying eighteen places. Eighteenth place paid a little over $8k and, since a $5k entry was such a big deal to me, I was determined to make the cut. I was at a tough table. Chad Brown was one seat to my left and Vanessa Rousso was a couple of seats to my right. Most of the remaining players at the table were professionals. I was a little short stacked at this point but one guy at my table was a little more short stacked than me. Long story short I waited him out and made the money. Of course, by then I was so extremely short stacked that I went out in eighteenth place.
While I was proud to make my money back I have regretted my play at that tournament ever since.
Last year I played in a $1k entry tournament during the Venetian Deep Stack series. I made it to the second day and really close to the money. The first hand of the second day I called a raise with a 20 point blackjack hand. After the flop I had an open ended straight draw and a back door flush draw. I shoved. This was a fairly aggressive move at this point in the tournament. He called with an over pair and I didn't make my draw. Out on the first hand of the second day. I've never regretted that move.
This weekend I played the $50k guarantee tournament at the Beau. I made it to the second day. We had forty players left and they were paying thirty-six places. Ten of us were short stacked (less than ten big blinds). The draw for the button found me in the big blind for the first hand. The action folded around to the button and he limped. The small blind folded. With pocket fives I shoved. Since I had only three big blinds the button limper called. He had 69o and hit a 9 on the turn. Once again, I was gone the first hand of the final day. Again, no regrets. I really believe it was the right play and would do it again.
When I play a tournament I'm not there to min-cash. When we get down near the bubble I'm not generally looking to just make the money. I want to win the tournament. That's just who I am.
I'm not saying my philosophy is right. In fact a really good argument could be made that I'm dead wrong. I bubble a lot of tournaments. I also win a few along the way. My philosophy of not playing for the bubble is consistent with my philosophy of not chopping at the final table. I came to win.
I would welcome any comments.
See you at the tables.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Examples
A little while back I had an eventful ten days or so. Three unrelated things happened.
First, a friend of mine lost his battle with prostate cancer. He was about my age. I'll miss AJ.
At about the same time I was teaching my grandson how to clean a catfish. That was an interesting experience. At first he was simply put off by the whole idea. He could see nothing to gain from being put through such a horrible experience. Over the course of a few days I had him clean several catfish and the last one was a whole world better than the first one. By the time I pronounced him an accomplished catfish cleaner (admittedly a bit of an exaggeration) he was quite proud of himself and appreciative for my teaching him a new skill.
The last thing that happened was quite unexpected. The same grandson's mother was killed in an automobile accident. We will also miss Jessie.
While the three occurrences were unrelated, together they have brought a realization to me. AJ's passing reminded me (as death often does) of the finite nature of life. I'm approaching sixty. How many years do I have left?
Teaching David how to clean a catfish followed by his mother's unexpected passing made me realize that we must take opportunities as they come because we never know which opportunity will be our last. Believe it or not, Jessie could have taught David to clean a catfish. She was an avid fisher as well as a "hands on" type of personality so I'm sure she knew how it was done. But she had never taught David and that opportunity has passed forever.
The poker playing community is filled with grandfathers. We all know things that need to be passed on to the next generation--or perhaps the generation after that.
We also have something to pass on to the next generation of poker players. I have found that most older poker players are gentlemen and know how to play the game with class and dignity. I believe it is incumbent on us to pass that trait on down. I'm not asking any of you to give any lectures on playing our great game with class. Lectures never work anyway. It is a proven fact that behavioral lessons are almost always learned by example. We just need to keep setting good examples. We're teaching lessons whether we realize it or not.
See you at the tables.
First, a friend of mine lost his battle with prostate cancer. He was about my age. I'll miss AJ.
At about the same time I was teaching my grandson how to clean a catfish. That was an interesting experience. At first he was simply put off by the whole idea. He could see nothing to gain from being put through such a horrible experience. Over the course of a few days I had him clean several catfish and the last one was a whole world better than the first one. By the time I pronounced him an accomplished catfish cleaner (admittedly a bit of an exaggeration) he was quite proud of himself and appreciative for my teaching him a new skill.
The last thing that happened was quite unexpected. The same grandson's mother was killed in an automobile accident. We will also miss Jessie.
While the three occurrences were unrelated, together they have brought a realization to me. AJ's passing reminded me (as death often does) of the finite nature of life. I'm approaching sixty. How many years do I have left?
Teaching David how to clean a catfish followed by his mother's unexpected passing made me realize that we must take opportunities as they come because we never know which opportunity will be our last. Believe it or not, Jessie could have taught David to clean a catfish. She was an avid fisher as well as a "hands on" type of personality so I'm sure she knew how it was done. But she had never taught David and that opportunity has passed forever.
The poker playing community is filled with grandfathers. We all know things that need to be passed on to the next generation--or perhaps the generation after that.
We also have something to pass on to the next generation of poker players. I have found that most older poker players are gentlemen and know how to play the game with class and dignity. I believe it is incumbent on us to pass that trait on down. I'm not asking any of you to give any lectures on playing our great game with class. Lectures never work anyway. It is a proven fact that behavioral lessons are almost always learned by example. We just need to keep setting good examples. We're teaching lessons whether we realize it or not.
See you at the tables.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Bad Runs
Yogi Berra has been quoted as saying "Ninety percent of the game is half mental". Of course, he was talking about baseball.
I watch a lot of baseball and my favorite team is the Braves. The Braves have been on a bad run. At this writing they are riding a seven game losing streak. During this current losing streak it seems that everything that can go wrong is going wrong. When one of the Braves hitters hits a line drive it always seems to be directly at one of the outfielders. When one of the opponents hits a line drive it always seems to be a "gapper". All our ground balls seem to be at an infielder ("at 'em balls) and all their ground balls seem to find a hole ("seeing eye grounders").
By now I've noticed that the bad run has gotten into their heads. Hence the quote from ole Yogi.
The same thing has been happening to me in poker. I've been on a bad run since late last year. I won't bore you with specific bad beat stories but suffice it to say that it seems that every time I flop top pair my opponent either flops or turns two pairs. And when I flop two pairs he flops a set. It seems as though I never catch any of my draws and the other guy seems to catch his draw every time. Even one of my friends ("Trucker Kenny") made note of my bad run when he was observing an STT and I actually won a race. He piped up with something like "Hey, you actually won a race!!".
At first I laid it strictly to bad luck. After all I hadn't changed my game, had I? After a while I admitted to myself that perhaps my play wasn't always optimal. And, let's face it, nobody's game is always optimal. I started tweaking my game. Did it help? Apparently not. In fact, I probably made the situation worse.
I don't normally go on tilt. If I suffer a bad beat or if someone draws out on me, I'm pretty good at just shaking it off and avoiding a chip spewing tirade. However, I believe I am now on what could be called "long term tilt". I've let the bad run get into my head. I no longer believe I can win any hand. I have come to expect the worst. This was brought home to me by the last hand I played the other night at the WPT Regional event at the IP in Biloxi. I got it all in before the flop with AA and the other guy had 87 offsuit. I actually stood up and started gathering my things before the flop even hit the board. By the time the turn provided an eight to go along with the seven that had come on the flop I had already gathered my things and was headed for the door. I had no doubt the aces were no good.
There's an old adage in poker: "Scared money is dead money." No doubt that is true and my money has become scared money. Consequently, I won't be traveling to any more series and I won't be making the trek to Vegas this summer unless and until I turn my game around. I'll be playing the Friday and Saturday tournaments at the Beau until I get my bearings. And I certainly won't be playing any cash games because the "scared money" philosophy applies even more so at a cash game.
See you at the tables (Beau only).
I watch a lot of baseball and my favorite team is the Braves. The Braves have been on a bad run. At this writing they are riding a seven game losing streak. During this current losing streak it seems that everything that can go wrong is going wrong. When one of the Braves hitters hits a line drive it always seems to be directly at one of the outfielders. When one of the opponents hits a line drive it always seems to be a "gapper". All our ground balls seem to be at an infielder ("at 'em balls) and all their ground balls seem to find a hole ("seeing eye grounders").
By now I've noticed that the bad run has gotten into their heads. Hence the quote from ole Yogi.
The same thing has been happening to me in poker. I've been on a bad run since late last year. I won't bore you with specific bad beat stories but suffice it to say that it seems that every time I flop top pair my opponent either flops or turns two pairs. And when I flop two pairs he flops a set. It seems as though I never catch any of my draws and the other guy seems to catch his draw every time. Even one of my friends ("Trucker Kenny") made note of my bad run when he was observing an STT and I actually won a race. He piped up with something like "Hey, you actually won a race!!".
At first I laid it strictly to bad luck. After all I hadn't changed my game, had I? After a while I admitted to myself that perhaps my play wasn't always optimal. And, let's face it, nobody's game is always optimal. I started tweaking my game. Did it help? Apparently not. In fact, I probably made the situation worse.
I don't normally go on tilt. If I suffer a bad beat or if someone draws out on me, I'm pretty good at just shaking it off and avoiding a chip spewing tirade. However, I believe I am now on what could be called "long term tilt". I've let the bad run get into my head. I no longer believe I can win any hand. I have come to expect the worst. This was brought home to me by the last hand I played the other night at the WPT Regional event at the IP in Biloxi. I got it all in before the flop with AA and the other guy had 87 offsuit. I actually stood up and started gathering my things before the flop even hit the board. By the time the turn provided an eight to go along with the seven that had come on the flop I had already gathered my things and was headed for the door. I had no doubt the aces were no good.
There's an old adage in poker: "Scared money is dead money." No doubt that is true and my money has become scared money. Consequently, I won't be traveling to any more series and I won't be making the trek to Vegas this summer unless and until I turn my game around. I'll be playing the Friday and Saturday tournaments at the Beau until I get my bearings. And I certainly won't be playing any cash games because the "scared money" philosophy applies even more so at a cash game.
See you at the tables (Beau only).
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