Made of Honor
Thursday, April 30, 2009
I don't mean to brag, but even in my recent live downswing, there has been one bright spot in my poker schedule, ironically, the blogger tournaments that have historically been a ripe opportunity to donate money. Over the course of the BBT4, a series of tournaments at FullTilt with a league-like leader board and prizes, I've been playing sporadically, merely a fraction of my contemporaries, but my results have put me within the top 20 players.
Last night, I decided to play the Mookie on a whim. I signed up at about 9:15pm. Lately, I've been exhausted by the end of the day, so I had mixed feelings about playing the Mookie. On one hand, it's a damn fun tourney and if you win it, it's probably amongst the (if not THE) most prestigious blogger tournament games you can win. I had been chasing the Mookie on and off for years, but finally caught first place for the second time, along with a seat in the BBT4 TOC a couple of weeks ago when I won the damn thing on a whim.
On the other hand, the Mook starts at 10pm EST, and easily can last until 2pm or beyond if you are playing for first place....and I always play for first place. Since I had been so tired lately, it seemed like playing would be a bad idea. There is nothing worse than playing a tournament under perceived time pressures. I don't care if its pressure from another responsibility, your wife catching you playing poker again, or the need for bed rest; when you play with time constraints, it is way to easy to fall into awfukit plays or justify bad poker.
Thank god for the Hills, though. If it weren't for wifey Kim's insistence that she watch that claptrap, I might've spent the evening doing something different. But once I heard the vapidness that is fake reality TV, I had to go to the computer. HAD TO.
And so, I played the Mookie. And, as per usual, I did about 8 other things at the same time. And frankly, I got a shit load of luck. I must've had AA about 5 or 6 times during the tourney. In most instances, it just netted me the blinds, but I felted one or two players with my AA and won decent pots uncontested on other occasions. Once I had an abnormally large stack, I just put pressure on, where appropriate, and hung back where convenient. I was first place from probably 60+ people (out of 80+) down to the last 12 or so, and just let the momentum take me to the final table.
The final table was a good one. The caliber of players in these tourneys are undoubtedly better than the average online tourney and the final table had its share of quality players. I played the ladder game, keeping out of the way while others knocked each other out. Eventually, it was down to three, me, the BBT4 host AlCantHang, and drome, a player who, from my keen observation skills, seemed to be a pal of LJ. Drome was actually playing a very loose aggressive game, and it had worked for him, amassing him well over 100k in chps when we were down to 5 or so, with the next nearest stack hovering between 70 and 50k at the most. It seemed his luck had run out, though, as he ended up going head to head with Al while I sat back with my significantly depleted stack and watched the fireworks. When it was done, Al had the upper hand, both literally and figuratively, and it was just Al and I for the trophy.
All it took was one hand. I had 33 and less than 40k in chips. Al had AK (I think, but no less than AJ) and about a kabillion in chips. He raised preflop, I pushed and he called. He hit one of his cards and that was it.
If I were to lose to anyone, I'm glad it is Al. But winning 2nd place is no brag post, so I'll brag, instead, about some other statistic. I have easily the highest points per tourneys played in the BBT4.
Last night's game has not been incorporated into the leaderboard yet, but as it now stands, I am in 21st place out of hundreds of players after playing 14 events. No one above me has played less than 22 events, with 14 of my betters having played 2x or more (i.e., 28+) events than I have played. It takes until player 40 to find a player with less tourneys played than me, and only one player in that interim had played less than 20 games (but still more than my 14).
So, there you have it. I'm the most consisitent player in the BBT4, given my relative small sample of games played. It's no $2,000 bonus for being a monthly leaderboard champion, but I'll take what I can get.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 9:29 AM,
,
A Post
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
That's all this is. A post. No great insights. No exciting stories or hands.
Last night, I played in the Riverchasers tourney. I held my own, making it into the teens when I finally lost. I held JTs and called a raise from one of the blinds from a player on the button. I was probably one of the shorter stacks, but I still had more than 10x the BB and I felt that the preflop raiser was likely raising light as a steal attempt.
The flop came down JT9 with two diamonds. That looked good to me, but naturally, I checked, since I knew my opponent would continuation bet, no matter what. He did so for 1,200 and I pushed all-in for another 1,600 or so more. He was priced in and called. He showed A5d, for the nut flush draw. He then turned an offsuit 5, and rivered an offsuit Ace for a better two pair. And two plus hours all went to waste.
It isn't about mastering the skill; it's about mastering the luck. Yeah, right.
Of course, I am adept at handling bad beats. I've developed a sorta acceptance to the fact that those things will happen. And for what its worth, I'm not blind to the possible errors in my play. In that last hand, for instance, one could argue that I should have folded preflop out of position with a short stack, and one would be right. Not 100% right, but probably 80% right, as in, 80% of the time, I'm folding there, 18% I'm calling, and 2% I'm pushing. Another person might say that I should've led out on the flop to try to win the pot immediately on a draw heavy board. That person would also be correct, about 50% correct at the very least, by my estimation. After all, if my opponent was on any of the draws (open-ended straight draw with any Queen or Eight, inside straight draw with a Seven or King, flush draw with two diamonds in the hole) I would be giving him/her a free card. In that scenario, if I bet, I may be able to push out the straight draws and possibly a weaker flush draw (but maybe not). On the other hand, if he has jack squat and I check, he will probably continuation bet, at which point I am in great shape with a raise. So, checking is probably the right play if I were to assume that he had nothing. I could also always get away from the hand if a scare card came and I had legitimate concerns (based on my opponents' reaction to the scare card).
Eh, but it is what it is.
I found out that I have to go to Pleasantville, NJ for a vehicle inspection for a new lawsuit I am pushing for at the firm. I Google Mapped Pleasantville and noticed tha it was located off of the Atlantic City Expressway. You can do the math. Since the inspection is on a Monday, I decided to drive down the Sunday before (after seeing my Mom for Mother's Day) and spend the night in AC. To make things even better, I had an offer for a free room for the Harrahs properties (Harrahs, Caesars, Ballys and the official AC casino/hotel of HighOnPoker, Showboat). Sadly, though, when I tried to book, they would only give me Harrahs for free. Harrahs is off of the boardwalk, close to the Borgata (but none of the Marina hotels, which include the Borg and Harrhas, are close enough or safe enough to walk to/from each oher). I prefer Boardwalk hotels, mostly because it is easy to get around from one to the next. Alas, beggers can't be choosers. Since I'll be on my own, I'll also get to let my degenerate flag fly. I can't wait.
On a wholly unrelated note, I don't know why people still think that Heroes sucks. Well, I do, actually. In some ways, the show does suck. But in way more many ways, it is getting back on track and maybe its the comic book geek in me, but I think they rehabbed the show very well. I'm already looking forward to next season.
Of course, Heroes is no Lost, which also had to rehab itself after a dismal 3rd season, but has come out on top. Damn this show is good. I can't wait for the season end, though, mostly so I can play in the 5/10 LO8 game at the Tuna Club before that game dries up. Damn priorities!
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 11:39 AM,
,
Digging My Way Out of a Hole
Friday, April 24, 2009
A losing streak, even a small one, can be heartbreaking in poker. Last night, at the Wall Street Game, I donated $300 to the ragtag group of players, and I was left wondering (particularly after my -$500 night at the Tuna Club) what went wrong. It must've been me. I should have been watching my opponents more carefully or playing a different style. But as I kept analyzing the situation, perhaps it wasn't "all" my fault. That's the thing with poker. It's never easy to tell. So you either blame stupid luck, in which case you are ignoring your only chance of improving (i.e., focusing on yourself) or you blame yourself, which can also be harmful if perhaps it really was just bad luck.
I was about to write about hands last night that at first felt like bad play, but then, after analysis, appeared more to me as bad luck....but as I recalled some of the hands last night, I'm back in flux. Is it bad luck or bad play? Fuck if I know. And since I didn't take notes, I won't even try to recreate the hands here. Suffice it to say that I called down a player with top pair weak kicker and she rivered two pair (she flopped bottom pair, top kicker), but in hindsight, the board may've flushed anyway, so my call with TP was probably a bad one regardless of her luck. But then there was that other hand when I raised preflop with JJ, got 5+ callers, and then saw a decent bet from the first player to act on the 346 board with two clubs. I re-raised to isolate, with the thought that he was likely on a draw and was trying to with the pot outright. He had 34o though, and I doubled him up instead.
So, bad play or bad luck? I'm still not sure. I only know that I cannot affect bad luck, so I must work on my play, whether it is bad or not. There is always room for improvement.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 8:03 AM,
,
Stinky Tuna
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
For me, poker is like sex. After I bust out, I just want to pay and leave. Or, perhaps, it's more like sex because I need about 20 minutes before I'm ready to go back in there and try again.
I returned to the Tuna Club on Sundary to play their 3pm $150 tourney. The game started with 9 players. New players, however, could buy in at any time in the first hour and any busted players could rebuy back in as a new player. It's like a rebuy except a busted player (a) has to pay the fee again ($130+20) and (b) a busted player can only buy a stack that is being blinded off.
After a while, a few new players joined so we broke into two tables of 6. Good for me, I thought. I prefer shorthanded play anyway. And even better, when the table split, I got W (who I have played with a bunch), some dude who I played with most of the last tourney who quite frankly sucked, and this dude across the table who for some reason had already gotten under my skin.
I've probably mentioned the word 'squib' here before, but just in case it didn't stick with you, a squib is a term some friends of mine used to have for a person you don't like for no particular reason. This guy was a squib. I can't put my finger on it, but he just had an air of arrogance around him, and the way he played and barked orders really got under my skin.
So, I ended up showing him by giving him my whole stack. I had K9o in the BB with blinds of 50/100. He had a decent stack with probably 10k or so. We started with 6k, so he was doing alright. I on the other hand was down to maybe 4.5k, with my only major hand a blatant squeeze attempt preflop that ended up getting four callers. I ended up having to fold the flop when my 22 (from the button, with a dead SB, BB, and limp/calls from UTG, and two mid-late players) missed the flop and UTG pushed.
So, Squib raises preflop to 400 and it folds to me with 100 already in as the BB. I decided to call, figuring that I was probably live. Plus, I could get away from the hand depending on what happens next and I wanted to defend my blind. Aside from the one failed squeeze, I'd been largely quiet at the table.
We see a flop, 9JJ. Not bad. Now I just need to decide if he has a pair higher than 99? I figured overall, it was fairly unlikely, but decided to check. He bet 1,000, which I read as weakness. If he had AA, KK, or QQ, he'd likely want me to stay in the hand, so he'd check or bet small. I decided to flat call. The turn was a blank. I checked. He pushed. I called pretty quickly. I had already made up my mind on this hand. He did not have AA, KK, or QQ so I'm good. But I wasn't. He had AJ. Lemon! And so, I was busto.
I could've rebought into the tourney, but I needed some time to think. I may have let my instant dislike of Squib affect my play. All that said, my bust wasn't exactly a train wreck; my read pre-flop was correct, but my read post-flop was off. There's room for improvement, but it wasn't the worst play I ever made. It certainly wasn't anything to tilt over.
Even so, I just couldn't rebuy back in. It just didn't feel like the right play.
Mathematically, it would've probably been wrong to buy back in. I was already into the game for $160 ($130+20+10 dealer toke for an extra T1000). If I rebought back in, I'd be in for $310 minimum and probably $320 for the extra chips. With 15 players paying (there were a few of the original guys who did rebuy) and $130 a pop going into the pot, the pool was $1950. Usually, the break down is akin to 60/30/10%. If it's generous, maybe 50/30/20%. In other words, 3rd place might not even be enough for me to break even on my investment.
Even worse, though, I knew my table image was shot. I was playing poorly and that had to have been noticed. If I rebought, I'd be at the same table, in the same position. With a shitty table image, its a much harder road back. So, I decided to walk.
Yesterday, I returned to the Tuna Club. Wifey Kim had dinner plans with the girls, so I decided to play an early session. When I arrive, Ebs was there with some other people, and he suggested a quick tourney. We played 5-handed and no one had busted by the time the room was filling up. We decided to just bust the tourney, and even though I was probably the slight chipleader, I decided not to protest.
The game at Tuna is usually 2/5 NLHE. Last time, I was hesitant to play and waited for a LO8 game to open up, but this time, I figured I'd jump right in. I'll be frank with you all. 2/5 NLHE is higher than I usually play, since I'm generally a 1/2 player. But it shouldn't be beyond my capabilities. My opponents should not be that much better and the game has the same rules. But yesterday was just an utter disaster.
I started out uber tight, folding for three orbits, mostly because I didn't have a hand better than K5 or J3. I finally got a hand, AQo, and decided to raise from the button to $15 after everyone else folded. The two blinds called. The flop was AJ8. It checked to me and I bet $30 or so. I figured I was good. Both players called. The turn was a 7. It checked to me and I bet $65. The player on my immediate left raised $100 on top. I took my time trying to work through the hand, and eventually focused on my opponent. His mouth was tightly closed, which usually indicates weakness. He was also not looking at me. However, he was one of the five players in the mini-tourney, and from what I saw, he was fairly tight. I just couldn't work out what he had, although I was mildly concerned about hitting two pair. In the end, I decided to follow my read of his body language and raised all-in (for less than $100 more). The river was negligible and he showed T9o, for the nut straight. "I have the nuts." he announced. I mucked. "Sorry" he said. "Sorry? If you were sorry, you'd give my chips back." The table laughed. I added, "Hey man, it's no problem. What else were you going to do with the nuts."
I should've just walked. I felt like a loser, I was playing like a loser, and I had the image of a loser. But I felt like I had something to prove to myself at this 2/5 game and I was leaving in about 45 mins anyway. I checked my wallet and I had a lonely $208 left...I rebought for $200.
A little while later, I raise from the BB with AJs. I get one caller, a Russian kid who seems cagey and loose. I then miss the flop and turn and call him down for no other reason than I think he is making a play and the only scary card is a King, which paired on the turn. On the river, he put me all-in except for $16 I had left. I made the crying call because I actually hit my river Jack, but he had K7 and took the pot. Man, I suck.
It was a freaking slaughterhouse, and I lost $500 total that night. Even today, I have a slightly bad taste in my mouth. I try to keep it all in perspective though. Losing $500 sucks, but I cannot let numbers like that affect me. I can, however, meditate on my errors to hopefully find a way to fix these problems. What I should have done is: (1) leave after the first buy-in if I don't feel comfortable, (2) get a better read on the players before mixing it up, and (3) follow HighOnPoker's number one rule of poker: When you are behind, fold.
Of course, poker is about the journey as much as the destination, so I will just consider this part of the trip. I need to regroup and figure out how to tackle that 2/5 game in the future. I certainly have the skills; I just need to remember to use them.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 7:34 AM,
,
$10 Hotel Prop Bet
Saturday, April 18, 2009
In May 2008, me and the boyz headed to AC to play some poker. At the end of the night, most likely in the early morning, we returned to the room. Dave Roose had a bag of sunflower seeds and as he opened them while sitting on one of the beds, the bag exploded, sending most of the seeds in every direction. From that situation, a prop bet was born.
The bet was simple. I offered Robbie Hole (who, if memory serves, was on a losing streak) $10 to eat every sunflower seed that fell on the bed...without using his hands. This was the second night of our trip, so someone had already slept in that unwashed bed.
Of course, I'm not going to pay Robbie Hole $10 to get some hotel-borne virus merely for my visual pleasure. No. Rather, an agreement was made: I would use Roose's fancy phone to videotape the prop bet. Of course, it was only after I finished taping the bet that Roose added one small fact: he didn't know how to get that video off of his phone.
Well, good news. He still had the video on his phone and this weekend, I helped him download it. And now, for your pleasure, Robbie Hole eating sunflower seeds off of a dirty hotel bed using no hands, followed by a segment of the post (in italics) that originally discussed the prop bet:
Upstairs, I reclaimed my bed. Roose moved to the other bed. Robbie took the cot. Randy took the floor. As Roose opened his bag of sunflower seeds, a small explosion occurred. Sunflower seeds covered his bed. I saw opportunity. "Rob, I'll give you $10 to eat all those seeds off of the bed without your hands." "Deal." $10. A small figure, but I knew he didn't need $400 to do it. He probably would've done it for free. We videotaped the event, thanks to Roose's cell phone. Unfortunately, the fucknut neglected to mention that he couldn't email video, so we are working on that problem.
Only one year later and we finally fixed the problem. How's that for follow-through.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 11:47 PM,
,
In Love Again
Thursday, April 16, 2009
I returned to the Tuna Club last night for my third visit, following up the two tourneys I played last weekend. The club is a new underground poker room hosted by W, a Wall Street Game regular with many of the same cast of characters I used to see at the ole Genoa Club, which closed probably well over a year ago.
Wednesday night, the Tuna Club hosts a 5/10 Limit Omaha 8 game. LO8 is easily my favorite limit game and probably my favorite or second-favorite (to N0 Limit Hold'em) cash game. With four cards and a high and low hand, there is so many opportunities to play hands, and the difference between skilled and unskilled players is much wider than NLHE. Perhaps that is because there is so much more to watch and winning hands are so much higher than in NLHE. For a Hold'em player, the transition can be difficult at first. For the most stubborn (or bad) Hold'em players, the transition is also very long before LO8 competence starts to sink in.
The game was called for 6:30pm, so naturally, I was mildly annoyed when I arrived at 7pm and the game wasn't near starting. I think there were four players looking for the game, but at least two of them, Matty Ebs and his friend, were sitting at the 2/5 NLHE table. I had brought only $600 with me, so sitting at the 2/5 table didn't really appeal to me. I figured like most NYC underground games, the 2/5 NLHE game would play a lot higher, akin to a 5/10 game if not more. I didn't necessarily see that, but I did see some bold betting at times, and rather than enter the game as scared money (or marked by the other players as scared money, since they had seen my hesitance to jump into the game at first), I figured I was better off waiting for the 5/10 LO8 game.
And wait, I did. Man, I hate waiting. It doesn't help that I am a generally antsy guy, always on the move. Plus, all the anticipation usually makes me feel like when the game starts, I HAVE TO WIN RIGHT AWAY! And what does that lead to? Overplaying hands, something that can be fatal in a no limit game, but fortunately only wounding in a limit game.
By 7:45pm, I told the room that I was going to head home. I had a set time limit on the game; I promised wifey Kim that I would be home by 10pm to watch Lost. When some of the guys in the room heard, they all had the same reaction: "Got to get home if you want to stay married, huh?" Well, not quite. The reality, which I think I mentioned all of once and then just gave up and said, "Yep, gotta get home to stay married!" was that I really wanted to see Lost and that I love spending time with wifey Kim. Of course, a room full of degenerate gamblers who either have harpey wives/girlfriends or none at all wouldn't understand that, and in any event, I would sound defensive, so I just played along. "Yep, she's got me by the balls." Sure.
Once I said I was heading home, things actually started to fall into place. Another player or two arrived, including Asa, one of the guys with whom I played in the HORSE tourney. It's interesting who you can meet at a poker table. Apparently, Asa, an older gentlemen, used to play chess professionally (i.e., hustling in the NYC parks). He even had a character modeled after him in Being Bobby Fischer. The rest of the table was a motley crew, Ebs and his friend, a black guy named Keith who had played in the HORSE tourney and bought into the LO8 game short, and a couple of Asian players. It was a generally friendly game, and I got off to a good start with some strong hands, bringing me a quick jump on the action.
One of the biggest hurdles in my LO8 game is determining the level of skill and hand ranges of my opponents. This is WAY more important in LO8 than in NLHE. Perhaps "important" isn't the right word. I suppose what I really mean is that there is a lot more variability from player to player. In NLHE, hand ranges tend to make some sorta sense once you peg a player as loose or tight. In LO8, you can have loose players who play any 4 cards, loose players that play any four low cards, loose players who chase any low, loose players who always think their draws are live (i.e, when they are drawing for a high, they think you have a low; when they are drawing for a low, they think you are playing for the high), loose players who play the second nuts like they are the nuts, etc. There is a lot of variety in the defects of a bad LO8 player, and each one requires slightly different strategies and expectations. It is way to easy to throw away a second nut low when two players are betting back and forth at each other and you are squeezed in the middle, but if you know those players overvalue crappy lows its a lot easier to stay in the hand or even toss in an unexpected raise.
Over the course of the game, I started with an early lead with about a $70 profit. That started to dwindle until I was about even, or so I thought. Nothing is more annoying than having three $100 stacks for the entire game and then realizing once you are "back to even" that at some point you messed up your stacks and the $100 stacks are now actually $90 stacks, so you have to restack them and suddenly you are down $30 or whatever. Has this happened to you ever? For some reason, it's like a dual kick to the junk. The first kick is when you realize that you are down more than you expected, followed swiftly by the next kick when you realize that your break-even play can now be labeled losing play. Lemon!
All the while, we were waiting for dinner to arrive. A lot of NYC clubs bring in food to bring in the players, and Tuna is no exception. The menu was Italian and based on how long it took for W to get the grub, it must have come all the way from Italy. Regardless of the wait time, the food was very good and consisted of a great salad, a platter of chicken parmesian and a bunch of rolls (of which, mine was stale). Along with the free grub, I enjoyed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. It's not much, but I like freebies.
By the time 9pm rolled around, I announced to the table my intention to leave. I got the usual statements about being pussy-whipped, although not in those terms, and played along. Whatever. Then I went on a tear. Right about that time, Big Paul showed up, a regular in the WSG and the winner (well, he actually chopped, but he was chip leader at the time) of Tuna Club's inaugural HORSE tourney. We chatted briefly as I took a pot or two off of them, and then it was finally time to leave. I was up $77, which is by no means a great amount, but not too shabby for an hour and a half of stress-free, fun poker.
I cashed out and hit the road, deciding to walk to a far away subway station merely to avoid the annoyance of transferring. Plus, I could've used the walk to clear my head and enjoy the crisp early-spring air.
I'm falling in love with the Tuna Club. They spread a nice variety of games, the patrons seem like good people, the hosts are definitely good people, and free grub is always nice. Even moreso, though, I'm falling back in love with live poker. I guess there is something about being in a card room that excites me even more than a home game. I am sure part of it is the feeling that I am there to play, rather than socialize. I also like the constant influx of new people. Most of all, I love the game. I love the mental agility; I love the process of working through your opponents' actions to determine what they have; I love the freedom of poker.
Of course, that's all nothing new, but it's always nice to be reminded of why you love something so much.
And for what its worth, I also loved watching Lost and spending time with wifey Kim, even if I sometimes pretend that its something I have to do, rather than want to do.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 11:01 AM,
,
Outliers Pt 3, Stereotypes are True!
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
First of all, thank you for your patience with HighOnPoker. I've been playing a decent amount online, as of late, and even cashed in the Riverchasers tourney on Monday and bubbled the Skillz event on Tuesday. Not too shabby. Otherwise, I've been working hard and this blog has taken the hit. That said, let's fire this baby up and hopefully get this BBQ started again.
This will be my final look at the Malcolm Gladwell book, Outliers, but I highly recommend that you take a jaunt to the old local book shoppe or local Amazon websitte and order yourself some of Gladwell's books. Personally, I would start with his second book, Blink, then his first book, The Tipping Point, before picking up Outliers. All of his books, though, are interesting, and his writing style makes for a quick read.
When last I left you, I delved into the triumverate of a good gig, Autonomy, Complexity and a Connection between Effort and Reward. This time, we turn to a chapter titled The Ethnic Theory of Plane Crashes, in which Gladwell examines why Korean airlines crashed so often in the 1990s. The final determination was simply this: culturally, Koreans had a high Power Distance Index, meaning that those in power were given greater regard by those beneath them. The result was that the co-pilot and other personnel in the planes were literally too timid to tell their pilots or air traffic control towers that something was wrong. Instead of saying, "According to the weather radar, we are in trouble," the Korean co-pilots would say things like, "The weather radar has helped us a lot." Yeah, I know, retarded.
The next chapter discusses some other cultural distinctions that developed over time. The advent of agriculture is the touchstone to any emerging culture, but the type of agriculture resulted in a very different work ethic between Eastern and Western cultures.
The types of crops grown in feudal Europe were largely the type of crops that needed irregular care. There was a season for planting, then growing, then harvesting, and then rest. In fact, the land had to be rested (usually rotated among parcels of land) and there were times when there was little to do on a daily basis for the farmers. The fuedal system also required that a certain amount of the crops be given to the fuedal lords, thus cutting into the impetus for a given farmer to work extra hard.
In contrast, the Eastern cultures had a rice-based agriculture system. Unlike Western farms, rice paddies are very small areas and the rice crop needs to be tended to constantly to adjust water levels, and other things that frankly are beyond me. Regardless, the crops required extensive daily care, and the space was limited (something about the way the crops are grown, I think). But a crop's yield would be greater depending on how much care the farmer gave his crops. Since rice farming is so difficult the landlord system in these Eastern areas was essentially a flat rent. So, if the farmer worked extra hard, they got the benefit of their hard work. And from this dynamic, a different work ethic was formed. Whereas in Europe, to this day, there is a culture that demands extensive vacations, limited hours, etc., the Eastern cultures tend to value hard work, long hours, etc.
In other words, Gladwell is racist! Or, at least he unintentionally is arguing that stereotypes may be true in certain regards.
But how does this relate to poker? Simple. Poker in its live form is largely about learning your opponents' tendencies, and the first step is to assess your opponent by appearance. If you understand some of the culture personality traits, you naturally have a good starting point. It may not be true from everyone of a nationality, but its true enough for a majority.
Take, for instance, Vietnamese. Vietnam has about 86M people. Asia has about 3.9B. Yet, an odd amount of Asian poker players are Vietnamese. For instance, (in alphabetical order) Chau Giang, Nam Le, Tuan Le, Liz Lieu, Minh Ly, Tony Ma, all the Nguyens (Danny, Men, Mihn, Scotty), the Phams (David, John), a whole slew of Trans (JC, Mimi, etc.), and a Vinny Vihn for good luck. Why are so many professional poker players from Vietnam?
I won't give a 100% answer, because I don't know the answer. But I will share this: gambling is a part of Vietnamese culture. During Vietnamese New Year, gambling is encouraged as an omen to how lucky your year will be. It is even encouraged amongst children. Add to that, the fact that those who took the chance to leave Vietnam for the US are probably the most adventurous (or hard working) of the Vietnamese, and you have a recipe for an elite Vietnamese gambling community in the US.
That's just one example, but there are plenty of others. Like, for instance, the old folks who are still getting over the Great Depression are tighter. Young kids still living off of mommy's teet while in college have no responsibility in their lives and thus play like their money means nothing. Etc., etc.
The point is merely this: stereotypes and cultural distinctions are often real. You can choose to be PC and ignore them or you can choose to be careful and ignore reads based on appearances, but ultimately, the reality is that often there are cultural differences and stereotypes that should be exploited at the table.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 10:39 AM,
,
Outliers Pt. 2, Automony, Complexity and Connection, Oh My!
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Two posts ago, I discussed one aspect of Malcolm Gladwell's book Outliers that related fairly well to poker, the concept of the 10,000 Hour Rule. The 10,000 Hour Rule stated that in order to become a world-class expert in just about anything, a person needed to practice for 10,000 hours. For poker players, that means roughly 4.8 years until you reach world-class status, provided that you play 40 hours per week. Good luck with that one.
Today, in Part 2, we will look at the elements of a task that encourage success, stated quite succinctly as Autonomy, Complexity and a Connection between Effort and Reward.
Gladwell's Outliers examines success stories in a variety of fields to analyze what exactly has to happen for exceptional success. In one chapter, he looks at the success of Jewish immigrants.
Allow me a moment to proclaim my pride in my Jewish heritage. I don't follow any of the religious tennants, but I do appreciate the emphasis on hard work, ambition, and family that are a cornerstones to American Jewish culture. It amazed me, then, that Gladwell was able to explain just how American Jewish immigrants were perfectly situated to succeed upon their entry into the US. Some of those factors were mere luck, things that are not relevant to this discussion. But other aspects were an outgrowth of things we can hardly expect.
In Europe, Jews were not allowed to own property. Hence, they tended to cluster in cities in ghettos before ghettos got all ghetto-fabulous. Living in cities, the Jews tended to work in city trades. Instead of being farmers, they were garment workers or had other trades. Those trades, meanwhile, were perfectly situated to teach ambition. Why? Because of the big three: Autonomy, Complexity, and the Connection between Effort and Reward.
Garment makers were not working in large factories or sweatshops. Rather, these were people who usually worked for themselves; i.e., Autonomy. The job was also mentally engaging; i.e., Complexity. And finally, you earned as much as you produced; a Connection between Effort and Reward.
When the Jews came as immigrants to NYC, they were better situated than some of the other ethniticies who came from agricultrual backgrounds because they already had the skills necessary to make money in a city environment. These entrepenuers' children saw the benefits of hard work. If their parent made one garment, the parent only sold one garment. That next generation generally followed in their parents' footsteps, but seemingly without fail, the very next generation all entered professional jobs, like doctors, lawyers, etc. They had saw from their parents and grandparents that effort equals reward, and that complex, autonomous careers facilitated that paradigm.
So, what of poker players? Quite simply, poker is attractive because of the first two elements of the Big Three.
I, for one, appreciate poker as a game where you have to answer to no one but yourself. It is not a team sport. There are no bosses, generally speaking. That autonomy speaks to me as it does most poker players.
The complexity of the game is also a crucial element to its appeal. It may only take a day to learn the rules, but the game takes a lifetime (er, or 10,000 hours) to master. Compare this to many videogames, for instance. For you gamers out there, I'm sure you've had the experience where you love a game, eventually beat it, and then never play it again. Once a game or task is mastered, it can lose its meaning. Not so with poker though. The complex game is always changing (and has various permutations). Hence, complexity is key to poker's greatness as well.
But finally, we have the Connection between Effort and Reward. This is the one that can make or break a casual poker player who wants to become more serious. Unlike garment making, there is no guarantee that if you do everything right, you will benefit from your hard work...at least in the short term. For players who get too wrapped up in short term results, poker can become like torture. Those players eventually drop out. Wouldn't you? For players with a more long term outlook, hopefully the connection between Effort and Reward is a bit more tangible. Even though you may have played a hand perfectly and lost, if you are able to realize that in 80% of the times you have that situation, you will win, then Effort and Reward remain connected. On the other hand, if you can't see the long term, then you will be doomed to feel that your efforts are not rewarded, rendering the hard work of poker meaningless. As Gladwell says, "Hard work is a prison sentence only ifg it does not have meaning."
On a related note, online bonuses create a direct connection to effort and reward. Since new players generally get these bonuses, they make perfect sense. They don't just give the players some money back, but actually make a clear mathematical connection between effort (playing) and reward (bonus).
I've got one more brief Outliers post in me, probably coming in the next couple of days.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 6:03 PM,
,
Fresh Salami
Monday, April 06, 2009
I'm fairly sure I mentioned it here at some point, but the Salami Club, long my first and favorite underground poker room, closed probably over a year ago, one of the final clubs to be shut down in the run up to some sorta election or another. For the sake of ease, I'll just let down the fascade of the "Salami" name. Now that the room has been closed for a long time, anonymity is moot. The Salami Club was actually called the Genoa Club (or the Genoa Football Club, as per the YellowPages).
By the time the Genoa Club was shut down, I had stopped frequenting the club because the stakes had been raised as other clubs closed and Salami's ranks swelled. This was an undoubtedly bad thing, because the games with the action junkies at Genoa were already playing well above their blinds (1/2 NLHE played like 5/10 NLHE and when the games went up to 2/5 NLHE minimum, I can only guess the way the action junkies played) and I was looking for some more reasonable stakes. More importantly, though, once the stakes raise, the profile of a room raises. Genoa felt safe when they were running a $60 tourney, but not so safe when there would be tens of thousands of dollars floating around the room at any given time. That sorta money attracts the Yin/Yang of bad news for underground poker: robberies and police raids.
Once Genoa was closed down, I assumed my career in underground NYC poker was closed, too. After a guy was killed during a room robbery (an accidental killing, not that it makes a difference), I considered it game over.
Until this weekend, that is. W, one of the regulars at the Wall Street Game, had begun working for a room in mid-town. Since she was involved in the room and a bunch of the WSG crew played there semi-regularly, I decided to give it a shot this weekend. It didn't hurt that they were spreading a rare live HORSE tourney on Saturday with a $120 buy-in.
I got to the room at about 2:50, with the tourney slated to kick off at 3. When I walked up to the building, it took me a while to figure out its location. The door lacked any address number, but using my keen mathematical skills, I was able to find the door by looking for the other numbers on the street. Even so, I waited outside the door for a minute or two while I fumbled for W's phone number. Just when I found it, a nerdy-looking black guy walked up to the door and rang upstairs. I asked, "Going to..." oh, I forgot to name the new club. Let's go with Tuna. So, I asked, "You going to Tuna Club?" "Yep." And so, I followed.
After walking up the several flights of stairs, we were buzzed into a small room with two doorways. Once the door was closed behind us, we were buzzed into the main room.
The Tuna Club is essentially a converted apartment. Once you enter, there is a long hallway with bathroom and numerous closets, and a big open room with a kitchen setup against one wall. There is another room that appeared to be storage and/or an office. Otherwise, there was just the big open main room, with two poker tables set up.
A variety of players were waiting around, from guys in their mid-20s to guys who were probably in their 60s or thereabouts. Races were mixed, too, with Asians, blacks, whites and probably a Hispanic (although none I remember specifically) ready to play poker in a rainbow of racial harmony. W was setting everything up, and I took a seat toward the back of the room where I could relax for a bit.
I should probably mention that I've been fighting a bitch of a cold since Thursday, and Saturday was no exception. My nose was runny and stuffed at the same time. I had no taste buds. I was simultaneously hungry and yet full. In short, I was miserable, but for poker, I would suffer.
Along with my usual poker gear (say it with me: $uperman shirt, buddha card caps [Green Traveling Buddha has been my favorite for a while, but I brought Gold Traveling Buddha in case], iPod, sunglasses, cargo pants, hoodie), I had a full box of tissues (with lotion), a plastic bag as a makeshift snot-rag garbage bag, and some meds in my backpack. I also brought hand sanitizer to keep my hands as clean as possible to avoid spreading my germs.
I sat in the back of the room and made some small talk, but mostly kept to myself. As I looked around the room in between articles in my Entertainment Weekly (don't you judge), I noticed some familiar faces. They were the Genoa Club refugees, players I saw many times in the past. One was a dentist whose name I forgot and who essentially ignored me anyway. Another was Guy, a guy who literally moneyed or bubbled every time I moneyed/bubbled at the old Genoa tourneys. There were others, too, and when I saw a look of acknowledgement, I nodded my head, but as is my way, I didn't go out of my way to meet anyone. Big Paul from the WSG also arrived so there was another familiar face and eventually, the tourney got under way.
Well, there's more to it than that. This was their first live HORSE tourney, so there were a lot of issues about how things would work. At first, each game would rotate every 8 hands. The only problem was that we had 10 players on the table and we expected two late players at which point we'd switch to two tables. You have to have a minimum of 10 hands per round with 10 players per table because position is very important in games like Hold'em and Omaha; hence, every player should get a chance to be the Button once per round. Then, once you switch to two tables, you cannot change games based on hands played UNLESS you coordinate each hand. Otherwise, one table could play fast and end up playing Stud Hi/Lo (E) while the other table is still working through the Razz round (R). That just doesn't fly.
Thankfully, W knew that this was a work in progress and we agreed to change it so that the games and blinds changed according to timed out levels, something you all are used to from any NLHE tournament. One other odd hitch was that W was using some odd WSOP structure that didn't raise the blinds between the flop games (H and O) or between the stud games (R, S, and E). That meant that with the 15 min levels between games, we actually had some blind levels last for 30 minutes (across H and O) and others for 45 minutes (R, S, and E). The end result was that after our first run through the games, we skipped two blind levels, moving from 50/100 to 150/300.
Overall, though, with these hiccups aside, the tournament went fairly well. By the time we reached the first break, I was sitting pretty, probably the chip leader (by a small margin) at our 6-handed table. By the time we combined into one table (at 8 players), though, I had taken some hits and was now more a middle stack.
Details elude me on most of the hands, but one stood out. It was Stud Hi (or maybe Hi/Lo), and I started the hand with a straight flush draw, 5678, all of diamonds. I bet the entire way, having hit an offsuit 4 on 6th street for a straight, and missing the flush the entire way. On the river, though, my opponent, who had KKQJ showing on his board, finally bet out. I decided to raise, assuming that my straight was good against his two pair or set. He looked miserable and mucked his hand. Just then, he paused. "Aw. I misread my hand. Can I take it back?" His hand was fairly visible, not entirely in the muck. At most, maybe one card touched the muck, but was clearly distinguishable.
Now, where I'm from, any forward motion with your cards is an unequivocal fold. There are no second chances in poker. I was 1000% for this rule when my opponent said, "I didn't realize I hit Broadyway on the river." For those non-poker players, "Broadway" is an Ace-high straight, and beat my lesser straight. The floor came over and decided that the hand was mucked. Being the nice guy I am, I turned to my opponent, mucked my cards and said, "If it makes you feel any better, I had a flush." Yep, I lied.
Lying didn't do too much for me, because by the time we were down to 5 players (3 payout spots), I was in desperate shape. When I was the chip leader, I only had the bring-in (a forced bet in Stud games) once, but when I was the shorty, I went on a tear, "earning" the bring-in a good 40% of the time for a good stretch. With blinds escalating like they tend to do in these HORSE tourneys, I eventually pushed all-in with three crap cards in Stud 8, hoping to hit a low to take half the pot, since there were another 3 people in the pot with me. By 5th street, I had a flush draw and a low draw, but I bricked from there on out, ending up with jack shit except for my walking papers.
Overall, it was a good tourney. So, when wifey Kim found out that one of her friends needed some face time to discuss family issues, I decided to return to the scene of the crime, the very next day.
This time, the tourney was set for 2pm, and the tournament director was none other than Matty Ebs. I arrived to find the entire Ebs clan, Matty, his father, and his two brothers. I used to babysit for the Ebs family (Matty is friends with my little brother), so it was a real trip to see all three brothers together, each taller than the next. It also made the entire game take on a more relaxed feel for me. Big Paul from the WSG also was around for the second day in the row. The day before, he was kicking ass in the HORSE tourney, going on a crazy run during Stud, shortly after I went from big stack to middle stack. It seemed like he was hitting every hand and players just couldn't accept his luck, tilting at windmills as they called him down with two-pairs on his flush-heavy boards.
Once the game started, I was right in my element. The game reminded me of the Genoa tourneys of yesteryears. I felt in tune with the table, making buddies with my neighbor on my right, a fat Caucasian guy with a crazy eye (literally one eye was all milky white and looked disengaged), disheveled clothing, and prickly hairs jutting from his multiple chins. I don't know how he and I got to chatting, but I put on my usual shtick as a wiseguy jokester, which went over well with Crazy Eye and most of the table. It's a lot of self-deprecation mixed with absurdist puffery, so its hard for people to take it seriously. Thank god, too, because I'm just looking to have fun.
I was at the same table as Ebs' father and middle brother, Johnny. It was interesting playing with people from my past. For what its worth, Ebs' father was unpredictable, but failed to raise preflop in a couple of situations where I feel its a necessity. In one hand, he was in early position with QQ, limped, and I limped in LP with 44. I hit my 4 on the flop, and slowplayed it for most of his stack. If he raised preflop, though, I'm out of there.
Johnny on the other hand had some great momentum going for him. He was also playing well, clearly influenced by Matty's fearless style of poker, something that is fairly close to my style. For instance, in one hand, when Johnny was the chip leader, he re-raised all-in for a substantial amount to push out the preflop raiser (who also made a substantial post-flop raise) and Crazy Eye, who had called the pre- and post-flop raise. Both players folded to Johnny who showed his open-ended straight draw, a gutsy move on a KQ7 flop with two clubs. He saw opportunity, though, and took it.
After showing his cards, Matty and him discussed whether its good or not to show cards. I added my two cents: "As long as you know what information is out there and act accordingly, there's no harm in showing. You just have to manage the flow of information." In other words, if he was going to show and create a pushmonkey image, he better start pushing with his premium hands (and otherwise tighten up) to catch someone offguard. Matty chimed in: "Jordan's just saying that because he likes to show." "Hey, I just like validation!"
As the tourney wore on, Johnny continued to accumulate chips in big bits and spurts, eventually knocking out two players at once to bring us to the final table. I was probably among the three shortstacks when down to 9 players, but I just kept my head about me and played shortstack poker like only a shortstack specialist can.
I was able to scrape by long enough to make it into the top 5, and eventually into the top 4, where Johnny still had a commanding lead and the two other players had stacks that were esesntially neck-and-neck with me because of the really high blinds. I suggested a save for 4th place, $50 from each place to give him his money back ($150). Once secured, another player busted in 4th and I was officially making a profit.
I continued making gutsy plays, pushing with weak hands and making odd bets when necessary to keep my head above water. Unfortunately, that play works every time but once, and when that one time happens, well, you're out. That's what happened to me. I pushed with a weak hand from the SB against the non-Johnny player in the BB, who woke up with a small pair, 55. I didn't hit my one over and busted from the tourney.
Over the two tourneys, I made $120. It's not a huge sum, but in both instances, I went deep. It looks like Tuna is the new Salami, so I expect to be back early and often.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 12:09 PM,
,
Outliers Pt. 1, The 10,000 Hour Rule
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers is a book about success, and even moreso the factors that come together to create success. Like his two previous books, The Tipping Point and Blink, Outliers
comes to some surprising conclusions about the recipe for success. The book also lends itself nicely to the world of poker, where we all seem to strive for the answer to the question of what makes a poker player great.
The 10,000 Hour Rule
In one of the earlier chapters, Gladwell looked at successes in a variety of fields and found that one general rule applied. In order to become a world-class expert in a given field, the participant had to practice for 10,000 hours. That's why certain people who were fortunate to have unparalleled access to computers at a young age were able to become the titans of the computer world today. From Gladwell's book, the 10,000 hour rule holds steady across multiple disciplines, including chess and music. It just seems to be a general rule (and an odd one at that) that in any discipline one needs 10,000 hours in order to develop the skills or experience to become a world class expert.
It's fairly clear how this applies to poker. Ever since the advent of Internet poker, we've all heard the lament that the online prodigies can get as much experience as an old timey pro in a small fraction of the time. But does this make them equal in experience?
Perhaps not. Perhaps it is the time spent on the activity, rather than the amount of hands played. It's an odd possibility. It's about as much training the mind to think in a certain way, as it is experiencing a hand. It is as much about processing that hand as it is playing it.
All that said, the advent of online poker means that the online player has way more access to games anyway, so he is likely to reach 10,000 hours before a live-only player. So, those online players definitely can (and probably have) closed that gap much quicker than a new live-only player. The 10,000 hour rule also means that there may actually be a holy grail of competence. I'm not saying I agree 100% with Gladwell, but if the studies he cites are legitimate, there is likely something there.
Consider this: If a very casual poker player plays a couple of hours per week (let's go with 2 hrs/week), it would take almost 100 years to reach 10,000 hours. If a nightly online junkie puts in 4 hours per night, it would take almost 7 years to master the game. 7 years! I'm only maybe 6 years into the game and I don't come close to 4 hours per night. A casino grinder who puts in an average of a regular work week (40 hours/week) would take 4.8 years to have logged enough hours to be considered a world-class expert.
In other words, quick bitching. You still have about 8,000 hours to go.
Rather than make an uber post, I'll break this off here and pick up the next post with more from Outliers.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 10:58 AM,
,
Blogging On Demand - Poker Face by Lady Gaga
Thursday, April 02, 2009
I was quite surprised to see an email from hometown and college bud J-Dub with a simple request:
How can a man argue with that?
In case you don't know, Poker Face is a pop/dance song from Lady Gaga. Even if you don't know the title or the artist, I can almost guarantee that you've heard the song before. At first, I hated it. Then I heard her say "Poker Face" in the chorus and hated it more. But finally, I saw Gaga perform it on American Idol (it's wifey Kim's fault) and I realized that Gaga did not just steal the concept of a "poker face" for her song; her song is replete with poker analogies. And so, with commentary, enjoy the lyrics of Lady Gaga's Poker Face:
Mum mum mum mah
Mum mum mum mah
[Okay, so right away, we have some things that are fairly common in poker. Eating. I like to go with the ole nyum nyum nyum, but Gaga goes with the "muh"s clearly indicating that she overeats to the point that she cannot form a decent nyum. But, poker players are largely slobs and are willing to eat at a nasty poker table, so score one for the Gaga]
I wanna hold em' like they do in Texas, please
[Good, she acknowledges hold'em's birthplace. 2 for the Gaga.]
Fold em' let em' hit me, raise it baby, stay with me
[And we have our first fail. "Hit me?" Wrong game honey, and now everyone knows that you are probably holding two small cards and are hoping for a Ten in Blackjack. Gaga 2; Poker 1]
Luck and intuition play the cards with spades to start
[Luck and intuition are definitely parts of the game. Spades to start? Try crubs, erm, I mean clubs. They always get there. But since high cards start dealing, and spades is the highest suit, I'll give it to Gaga. Gaga 3; Poker 1]
And after he's been hooked I'll play the one that's on his heart
[Damn, Gaga. Are you playing in the WSOP? Just like lady luck, she waits for you to be hooked on poker before breaking your heart and your bankroll. Gaga 4; Poker 1]
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
[Let's take this all at once. "Oh, oh, oh" is not a poker face, bitch. It's a tell. And showing what you got may piss a man off when you win, but I don't think it'll get him "hot" as in horny. Gaga 4; Poker 2]
Can't read my, can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got me like nobody)
Can't read my, can't read my
No he can't read my poker face
(She's got me like nobody)
[This is a simple push. No real substance here.]
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
[Social misfits like stutterers may be more inclined to play poker, as it is an underground type thing, and once again, Gaga is eating at the table, so let's give it to her. Gaga 5; Poker 1]
I wanna roll with him a hard pair we will be
[Sorry, Gags. Dream Team Poker aside, poker is a singles game. No pairing up. That's collusion! Gaga 5; Poker 2]
A little gambling is fun when you're with me
[Wha? Gambling is ALWAYS fun. In fact, just having you around is a distraction. Get the fuck out. Gaga 5; Poker 3]
Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun
[And regular roulette is not the same without a ball. So what? Score for poker. Gaga 5; Poker 4]
And baby when it's love, if its not rough it isn't fun
[Hmm...on one hand, there is no poker content. On the other hand, Gaga likes it rough, and I find that to be the correct position on such carnal matters. Gaga 6; Poker 4]
[Chorus]
I won't tell you that I love you
Kiss or hug you
Cause I'm bluffin' with my muffin
[Wait. What? What is that supposed to mean, "bluffin' with my muffin"? Is that a vagina comment. Are you a dude!? Oh geez! That explains the Adam's apple. Gaga 6; Poker 5]
I'm not lying
I'm just stunnin'
With my love-glue-gunning
[I knew you were a dude! Put your "glue gun" away, you perv. Aw, and to think I let you give me head. Aw! Gaga 6; Poker 5; Jordan's latent homosexuality 1]
Just like a chick in the casino
Take your bank before I pay you out
[Look lady, I don't care what you say at this point. You're a dude. Jesus! What will the guys think. You better not tell them. And put your dick away! Gaga 6; Poker 6, just because I'm bitter; Jordan's latent homosexuality 2]
I promise this, promise this
Check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous
[Ok, Gaga, you won my love back with the hand job. And, I reconsidered the last line and you were right, the casino usually takes your cash via rake before paying you out . So, I'll reverse that decision and give you a point here for making it to showdown. Gaga 8; Poker 5; Jordan's latent homosexuality 3]
[CHORUS]So, congratulations to Lady Gaga for having a more-accurate-than-not poker song. And congratulations for me, because Lady Gaga's score is higher than my latent homosexuality, therefore proving once and for all that I am not gay, regardless of that time in college.
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face
(Mum mum mum mah)
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 2:13 PM,
,
LowOnPoker.Biz
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Me no am Bizzaro Jordan at Low on Poker, the worstest site on the intertubes. You no welcome to me site. Me no play poker last night. Me play really good. Me very passive. No like betting unless me have premium hand like 36o or 95o. Me like talking strategy. Best strategy is very passive. Fold to the money is good. Points are good. Me think points more important than money. Me like complaints about the BBT4. BBT4 is no good. Me hate free money and prizes. Me have good chance to win. Me like talk strategy. What to do when I have 49o preflop UTG? Push?! Me thought so. Me no donkey. Me won hand to stupid man playing AA. AA is no good. No play poker with letters. Play with numbers! Tripjax write about duck hunting. GCox writes about beer. Both write about poker. Schaubs writes small titles and long posts. Spoiler post is no good. Not very funny. No laugh out loud at work and catch the ire of Little Boss Man. F-train no gay! CK is Christian Nordic man. Dawn write more than ever and is best posts yet! Online poker better than live poker! Online poker is all reads! Me get reads online! Reads are not imporant in poker! Not important at all! Math is fun. Number one reason to play poker is for Maths. Me go now. Eat some kryptonite. Yummy kryptonite. Before last time, me no likey poker!
posted by Jordan @ 12:01 AM,
,
