And it seems such a waste of time

Are there lucky people out there? Are there unlucky people out there? There have to be. There's nothing special that makes someone lucky or unlucky, it's just their random position on the normal distribution curve of life. We all know that the -EV games at casinos are just that. But even still, there are people out there who are lifetime winners at blackjack and craps. Being -EV only means that on average, given enough trials, the casino always wins. Since the casinos see so much traffic, their variation is so much smaller than an individual player; it virtually guarantees them that they will see that +EV.

But what about the individuals who play the games? They certainly can't gamble often enough to hit that theoretical long term where central limit theorums and the law of large numbers matter. But there are people who win at these games. Of course, there are certainly more losers given that the mean result is negative, but there are people who fall on the plus side.

And so I consider where my sample lies on the curve (no, not that type of sample) given the following:

I am zero for three. I am like the big league rookie in his first game who's swung and missed at every pitch thrown at him. I had dreams of being a 1975 Fred Lynn but my results are like a 2004 Jason Giambi.

My "at bats" are attempts at moving up. Three times in this calendar year I've grown the online bankroll high enough to take a shot at the higher limits. Taking shots, after all, is what makes us better players and with a little luck, bigger winners.

I have a friend (he reads this at times, he's the Rocket from our home games) who has taken shots and basically hit for the cycle and had 9 RBI's. He took a winning session at 5/10 limit hold 'em to the 15/30 games and cleaned house. He told us how he won over $4k in a weekend just playing his standard game at the higher level.

Another friend, with MUCH more disposable income than I, took his shots at the $1000NL game on Party and did rather well for himself. He's cruising in a new Harley these days. I can't even afford one buy-in at that level.

Call it ego, call it what you will, but I don't look at these two players as superior to myself. I'm sorry, I just don't.

But then again, I'm 0 for 3. I'm hitting .000 and these guys are battling for the Silver Slugger award.

I've looked back at my play at the higher levels in an honest fashion. At least I've tried. And I don't see it. I don't see the difference in play that would indicate a reason for losing up there. I'm open to that possibility still, but I have a feeling that it's been some bad luck. And bad luck at higher levels can be deadly. The higher levels give you less of a cushion to withstand the variance. Obviously. That's why you need some luck. And that I haven't had.

I'll tell you, it's disappointing to drop half your bankroll for the third time in six months. Very disappointing. The worst part is knowing how long it's going to take building it back up. I've built it up three times and I'll do it again. But I don't want to. I want to take that shot and win. For once.

Because if that's movin' up, then I'm movin' out.

Donk Manifesto

I latch on to words sometimes. Mainly for their comedic value, some words just make me smile inside, sometimes laugh on the outside. Even when they are no longer funny to anyone else, I beat a dead horse as much as I can. Case in point, my Arnold voice - "Get to da choppah!"

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In college, the word was "gugh." It rhymes with "duh" but you have to spell it differently. You just have to. Keith Olberman went to my college and popularized it on ESPN Sports Center, perhaps you've heard him once or twice. I like to think I invented its useage and he took the ball and ran.

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Nowadays, the word is "donk." I'm putting it in nearly every sentence during regular everyday conversation. If I hear a song on the radio, I'll insert "donk" into the song.

If the donks try to draw on you, cap it like it's hot, cap it like it's hot, cap it like it's hot. Snoop would be proud.

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What kills me the most is that donks are everywhere. Work is filled with them. General suburbia is a breeding ground. The bottom line for me is that I hate, HATE, being the one to pay the price for other people's mistakes.

Someone fucks up, they should feel the pain, not me. It happens in life all to often. At work, we're often besieged by crisii (is that the plural for crisis???) when someone hasn't prepared for a meeting scheduled months ago. I hate that. Why should I have to get my panties in a bunch for you?

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And so again, poker mimics real life. The donks make the mistakes and you are the one paying the price. Literally. There is no avoiding it really. I often say that the price for being intelligent is living with KNOWING when you've been screwed. Fat, drunk and stupid is perhaps one way to go through life. If only to avoid the donks.

Back in Town

I'm back from the beach and trying to get re-assimilated into the goings on of the intarweb and poker in general. I did bring my laptop to the beach, but the hotel at which I stayed had no wireless acccess. There was a Starbucks across the street, but there was never a good time to head over there by my lonesome and hop online. So it was 4 days without any access whatsoever. Cold turkey. I believe I had the shakes.

I also brought the pokerchips on vacation too. I was thinking I could round up a few donks on vacation for an impromptu tourney of sorts, but basically decided that chip challenges(tm) with miniBlood would suffice. For the record, miniBlood was crowned Myrtle Beach Poker Champion for the week.

(aside: On our first day as we got to the beach, miniBlood says "I don't even see any Myrtles." He cracks me up.)

You'd think that spending about $200/night on a hotel room would filter out some of the classic redneck southerners from the equation, but alas, we were not so lucky. There was one guy we saw who was NEVER without a beer in his hand the whole time. After seeing his family, I too would have not been without a beer during waking hours. Ever. His wife probably outweighed him by a good 70 pounds and she had skunk-like, bleached white hair running down the center of her head. A Pepe Le Pork, if you will. His mother-in-law was about 58 years old and had the biggest set of fake breasts I've ever seen. If she went topless, I was quite confident those things would hit the floor. Normally, I'm all in favor of boobie augmentation. This was an exception. Man, that's gonna give me nightmares.

Whilst I was going through poker withdrawal, I did pick up a few books for some reading pleasure. First up was Al Alvarez's Biggest Game in Town. It's a classic that chronicles the players and goings on during the 1981 WSOP. Not a strategy book by any means, but basically a tale recounting the legends of the game and their Vegas lifestyles. It was an easy and enjoyable read, but I couldn't help but feel that a modern-day retelling from our blogging contingent in Vegas would be a welcome addition to the poker section at Barnes and Noble. Here's hoping that a book from those guys finds its way to the shelves.

Next up was The Professor, The Banker and The Suicide King. Mean Gene and Maigrey have given this positive reviews and I'd have to third the notion. Now that many of the Pros are familiar faces, it seems that we're getting into what I call soap opera territory. Their lives both at and away from the poker tables become more and more interesting. I confess to being a fan of several "personalities" and am enjoying reading about what makes these players who they are. Andy Beal, the man who played the pros at the Big Game, is quite fascinating as well. Google the "Beal Conjecture" and you'll see that for someone with no formal mathematical training, the man is astoundingly bright.

Other than reading, swimming, and drinking, there wasn't much left to do besides catch up on some sleep. I think I was able to refuel the tanks this past week after depleting them slowly but surely with some late night poker.

I'll be trying to catch up with what you've all been doing, but as my blogline subscription has about 150 unread posts, it will take some time. Until then, I'll be donking around online and begin preparations for Bradoween V, at which I'll be the tournament director. This year's lineup looks to be one of the most difficult. I certainly can't wait for the arrival of some out of town guests to bring G-Vegas to its knees.

Vacation

...all I ever wanted...

Dude, like, that's a song from the GoGo's. Sorry.

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There was a home game last night, but I won't have time to give it a proper right up. G-Rob was there and will perhaps do it some justice.

Hi/lo lights:

1. Me - QQ, G-Rob - KK - all in preflop. KK holds up.
2. Me - bluffing, MattyC - busted draw - calls a $20 river bet with 10-high. He won.
3. G-Rob vs. BB head to head. G-Rob started with $101, BB started with $44. If my ATs doesn't split the pot with G-Rob's A6o - I'd have taken all his money. Sleep dictated I quit while I was still ahead.

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I'm off to Myrtle for a while - not sure what kind of access I'll have - so keep the blogfire burning while I'm away. Oh yeah, if you're in the area, Nepals is having their anniversary party this Saturday. I don't leave until Sunday. Do the math.

He Shoots, He...

(fill in the blank)

That scuba shark Bill Rini is calling out people to set some goals for themselves and perhaps make a run at the 2006 WSOP. So I'll mull it over in a post and see what sticks.

I think I'm going to make plans to at least BE there for the 2006 WSOP main event. Through some connections to some local media SUPERSTARS, I may have access to a media pass for the event. That would give me an entrance into the media event where I can hope to bust Shannon Elizabeth too. As far as playing in the main event goes, I highly doubt it. If during the next year I'm fortuitous enough to bring a decent sized bankroll, I may try a satellite or two. But I don't have any realistic expectations of actually participating.

I'd like to build a decent bankroll online and offline in time for a possible October trip to Vegas. But I don't want to let this potential goal interfere with my play as I've often done in the past.

Lately, I've tried to concentrate on the decision at hand, not where my bankroll currently is. The last two live tournaments I've played, I can honestly say my decisions were pretty spot on. Raymer's bust out comments really rung true, try not to concentrate on results but rather your decisions. In one tournament, when making a steal attempt, I found that thinking about that simple statement calmed my nerves a bit. In the past, I'd be too worried about my bluff being called and then worry about the hit to my stack. In this case, I was indifferent to the other player's decision because I truly felt I'd made the right one by trying to steal the pot in this situation.

I'm not sure how other people feel, but if I ever made any kind of TV final table, I'd be tempted to keep it a secret until it aired. Wouldn't that be cool to just tell people to watch episode X of the WPT or WSOP? Hey, I know that guy! To me, that would be the ultimate goal.

General Nitwit Center

After lunch today, I made a quick stop to the local GNC to restock on some items that I was getting low on. I entered the shop and was immediately greeted by the sales clerk behind the desk - a late 40's woman who in my opinion was overly lean and a bit too enthusiastic with her "Can I help you today?"

"No thanks, I'm pretty sure I can find what I'm looking for." After all, I can read. Couple that with the fact that I've been to GNC several times before and you can rest assured that I am not your typical dazed and confused nutritional supplement consumer.

I walked back to the protein powder section and found exactly what I was looking for. Six pounds of generic GNC-branded whey protein. I have a container of the stuff at home with but a scant few servings left.

As I carried the protein towards the front of the store, the clerk looked at what I was carrying and said with a smirk, "You're not STILL using that stuff, are you?"

"Huh?"

"Haven't you heard of blah, blah, blah brand?"

"No, I'm not too particular about protein powder."

"Well let me mix you up some of this blah, blah, blah brand."

Begrudgingly, I said "OK. I'll try it." The clerk immediately began her marketing pitch and I did my best to drown it out. She began pouring some milk into a blender and I had to interrupt to tell her milk was a no-go for me.

"You can't have milk? Any milk at all?"

"Um, no. I can't." I was thinking I'd tell her about the gastro-intenstinal distress I'd experience not soon after ingesting her little conconction, but I didn't want to even spend the energy.

"Do you put peanut butter in your shakes?"

"No, I generally don't."

"Well I'll put some in this, it's great!"

Aw hell, why don't you throw in a slice of pizza too. Perhaps a slice of chocolate cake? I bet that will make your little blah, blah, blah-brand of protein taste fantastic.

I walked away as she was mixing it so I could go find some Stacker 3. It's a bummer that all the fat-burning stuff is all ephedra-free now, but I need a little boost of something now and again to make it through my five day a week regimen.

Finally, the clerk found her way back to me and handed me a dixie cup full of her shake. A dixie cup? A fucking dixie cup? You went through all that rigamaroll and gave me a fucking dixie cup sized protein shake. What a jopke.

No sooner had I swallowed her peanut butter and protein, tablespoon-sized shake when she took a look at the bottle of Stacker 3 I had grabbed.

"Oh no, you don't want that! This stuff is...."

It was then her conversation lapsed into a series of cracks and buzzes. Like a microphone piped to a faulty public address system, her words were lost to me. I gazed at her face, but my eyes were focused well beyond to a near infinite horizon. I wondered what training she went through that instructed her to insult her clients choices of supplements.

As soon as her mouth stopped moving, it was as if I was snapped back to consciousness by a hypnotist telling me "You are now fully awake."

"Thanks, but I'll simply take what I've got please." I prayed that this would end the sales pitch.

"OK."

It worked! I couldn't even make eye contact at the register while I awaited my credit card to be approved. If I did, it may have triggered some more futile attempts at product conversion.

Sadly, I had to put that particular GNC on my "Do not visit" list of stores. It's just too tiring for me to put up with that when I know exactly what I want and want to get out of there in under 5 minutes.

Congrats

Just wanted to offer my congratulations to two Intarweb compatriots who managed to cash in some of the WSOP events going on.

DoubleAs - Proved that killing the NL cash games online was certainly no fluke.

TP from Talking Poker - Proved that making your own poker forum and engaging in a little trash-talking now and again was not just for show.

Great job guys.