Poker Survivor
Friday, September 21, 2007
Another day, another dollar.
I made my second trip this week to the Wall Street Game. On Wednesday, I crashed the two $25 tournaments in a desperate attempt to stay in contention for the seasonal prize pool, but lost $50 and my 1st place status for my troubles. My goal next week is to watch my email like a hawk and RSVP for the final tournaments of the season as soon as possible. Once I get to the game, though, I have to try to find that special place I've found in my past forays where winning is just a matter of playing my game, rather than the evil place I found this week, where my desire to remain at the top of the leaderboard and my desire to play my usual aggressive game got all tangled up into a ball of bad poker.
I should admit that after that Wednesday run, I woke up Thursday with a poker hangover. I felt mostly fine the night of the loss, but the next morning found me miserable. I don't like to use the word depressed because I know from experience with family and friends what depression can really mean. Still, in this instance, there was a definite malaise and a hint of depression in my mood early Thursday morning.
To rectify this, I emailed host Jamie and told him that I was dropping myself to Maybe status for last night's HOSE cash game. I felt like a louse, since I know how hard it is to throw these things when players cancel willy-nilly, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. I also felt internal pressure to spend some time with wifey Kim. She hadn't pressured me or even complained; rather, I just really love my gal, and I missed her enough that poker two days in a row seemed excessive.
By Thursday night, the poker hangover was gone, replaced by a workplace headache. I've been working my ass off lately, including a stint at the office last Saturday and another stint likely for this upcoming Sunday. As it were, I ended up at work later than usual Thursday waiting for my boss to return from a deposition. When he got back, he sprung on me the news that I was covering the conference this morning in a case that I had recently almost f'ed up. On one hand, this morning was a chance of redemption; on the other, it was a test that I could not afford to fail. Once again, this was mostly self-exerted pressure, rather than pressure from the Bossman, but that's how I roll.
By the time I got back from work, wifey Kim had already eaten dinner. I am sick of all of the delivery places in my neighborhood (FYI, in NYC, delivery is often cheaper than cooking, and the options are near limitless...I have well over 20 menus at home, and that's just the tip of the culinary iceberg). I opted to cook myself some quick grub, and then gladly joined wifey Kim for our favorite reality TV show, the premiere of this season's Survivor, which takes place in China.
I've been especially excited for this year of Survivor, mostly because of Jean-Robert Bellande, the asshole NYC native who placed 3rd in a televised WSOP Circuit event in May 2005. Many people have focused on how J-R is a real asshole, or at least played the asshole in that televised WSOP event. Still, I can't help but root for the guy. After all, he is a representative of poker players everywhere, getting mainstream exposure in a game that may actually fit his poker-player skill set and assholeness to a T. In other words, He may be an asshole, but he's OUR asshole.
Literally, whenever J-R would appear on the screen, I'd cheer and throw my fists in the air, Stone Cold style. But my favorite part of the episode took place as J-R took a walk with a smallish male flight attendant. They had barely gotten to camp when J-R, in private, said to the flight attendant something akin to, "I'm onto you. I know you are a shifty, smart guy, and I'm cool with that. I just wanted to let you know that I know."
That, in and of itself is interesting, since I've watched all umpteen seasons of Survivor and have never seen this type of conduct/strategy/conversation, especially so early on. But the best part was the reaction of the flight attendant, who, in his confessional-type interview explained, "Jean-Robert read me dead on." (paraphrased, if not exact).
GO J-R, GO! Attaboy! Use those observation and reading skills to your advantage. After all, aside from law enforcement and used car salesmen, can you think of any other professions/hobbies where a player must cultivate the ability to read people and discern lies from truth?
Keep making us proud, Jean-Robert!
As the episode was ending, I looked over to wifey Kim, who was sprawled out on the couch. Her eyes were shut. I carefully woke her from her sleepiness. Wifey Kim is a hard worker and wakes up hours earlier than me to go to her Staten Island job. It was clear that she wanted to sleep, so I let her go back to slumberland. At that point, I remembered the Wall Street Game, and decided that, if wifey Kim was sleeping, I was gamblin'. I grabbed my gear and made my way to the game, a short 5-minute walk from my apartment.
When I walked in, the players were in the middle of the Omaha 8 or better portion of the evening. I bought in for $100 for the 2/4 game. I won a hand relatively early when Tony, a new player who was learning O8 on the fly, flopped top set. I turned a straight and low, and we bet into each other back and forth. Finally, we both slowed down and I scooped the pot.
I then continued to play loose, and eventually, poorly. I was just playing too many hands, which seems to be my problem at the WS Game moreso than other games. I think it is the friendly feeling of the place. I'm there to socialize and gamble and have fun, not fold for three orbits. At my lowest, I was down to about $50, but late in the session, I had a monster run in LHE and eventually fought my way back to a $20 profit, but not before this hand:
I have AKc, UTG, and raise to $4. Only CK in MP calls. The flop is A44. I bet out $2 and, if memory serves, she called. On the turn, I think I bet out again and she raised. I opted to call. On the river, I check-called. (I'm sure I probably got the action wrong, so check the comments, where CK will be ridiculing me). At showdown, I show my AK. She shows 44, for flopped quads. Beeches.
I decided to leave around 11:30. I was happy for the $20 profit, which mitigated my $50 loss from the night before. I returned home, where wifey Kim was still sleeping. I attempted to watch some television but only got through half of Kid Nation before I decided to give in to sleep.
Tonight, wifey Kim and I will probably tackle more of Heroes season 1 on DVD, in anticipation for Monday's Season 2 premeire. I don't see any poker on the near horizon, except for a Wall Street tournament or two next week.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 3:55 PM,
2 Comments:
-
At 10:37 PM,
MHG said...
-
I sort of noticed your attention to the Wall Street game leaderboard in a few of your recent posts. Glad you were able to pick up on it. You're good enough and smart enough to wipe the floor with those guys if you just stay on your game and keep mixing it up.
Enough with all the praise though, Jean-Robert can lick my balls. That guy is a douche and won't last longer than the hooker from NYC. -
At 11:59 PM,
BWoP said...
-
The flop was A-6-4. The other 4 didn't come until the turn.
I don't recall the action. I am still sick.
