The Meta Skill

I recently had a conversation with my manager who just recently came aboard our team at work. One of the things I told him was how I could never be a manager, mainly because of my inability to see people as resources and manipulate them according to what's best for the team. I also told him that over the course of my seventeen year career (all at the same company), I've been ranked at the bottom of the spectrum, the top of the spectrum, and many places in between. The only thing that's been consistent during that duration was me and my job performance. So why the disparity? Because the person doing the ranking has changed.

This year's poker results (in case you haven't been reading) haven't quite been what I'd anticipated. So the question is, has my poker playing ability changed all that much to warrant such a disparity?

If I'm being honest with myself, then I guess I'd really have to say no. In fact, I believe I'm playing better this year than I have in any other. If I didn't believe that, then frankly I should just give up right now. Sure I still make my share of mistakes, but overall, I think my decision making has been better overall this year than it was last year. I think I know more about the game, have more experience with better players, and am seeing things better at the table than I have in the past.

But to look solely upon myself in a constantly changing poker environment would only be part of the story. One must look elsewhere to find out where the differences in results lie.

For one thing, the local player base is on average much better than it was a year to 18 months ago. If I could rewind time a bit and take a look at who played the games way back when, then I'd find that many of the games donators are no longer showing up. G-Rob + Spring Hotel = profit vacuum.

I recently played a game at another location. It wasn't The Depot, it wasn't the Gaelic Game. It was a game filled with opponents that I felt were a good two steps below your average G-Vegas card slinger. That night, thanks to some cards, and a couple of good plays, I won as Eddie would say, half a g-bar. And that was without ever being put to a decision for any significant number of chips.

(Side note: In fact, I had the luxury of getting two different people all in when they were drawing dead. That's zero outs. Can't suck out on me there.)

(Side, side note: Upon telling Random101 about opponents having zero outs, he responded by saying that at some point, the board will pair with an identical card, fouling the deck and making the hand dead. I had trouble disagreeing with that potential scenario given my run of luck.)

I think a lot of times, the desire to play with better players overrides the true goal of playing serious poker - making money. I'll admit that on the night that The Depot had a 5/10NL game going, part of me wanted to take a shot. But why? It's not good table selection to play with better players at higher stakes, especially given a proven track record of winning at the 1/2NL game. The only reason to play at that game would be ego-driven, not monetarily driven. I chose not to play, but for a time regretted not taking the chance.

Online, it's the same thing. I've used some table selection techniques and player tracking methods, that while not revolutionary to any online veteran, have proven to give me a better shot at winning money. I avoid people I know to be good players and knowingly choose to play against those I feel I have an edge.

I'll always have trouble grasping exactly how much variance there is in poker. And when the skill level between players gets smaller and smaller, it's that same variance that's going to become the overriding factor in determining who wins that day. So if I can help it, I'm going to continue to try to put my money in favorable situations. At least until I can be more comfortable with a bankroll that has been more stagnant than I want it to be.

MudBlood

Deep in the bowels of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

"Good morning class," Professor Snape mumbled, obviously pained to use such a cheery expression towards his otherwise dimwitted pupils. "Today in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, we will be discussing this."

With a flick of his wand, a small, shiny obsidian box appeared before the class, levitating in front of them aglow with swirls of greenish, eldritch flame. Engraved on the box was a large letter "P" in old English script.

"Can anyone tell me what this is?"

Hermione Granger's hand shot up in an instant, but like he so often did, Snape waited longer to see if any other student could muster up a guess. Finally in one of Snape's more exasperated tones, he responded, "Yes, Ms. Granger?"

Proudly, Hermione stated, "It's the Pokerstars Random Number Generator."

"Yes, you are quite right. Ten points for Gryffindor if you can describe what it does," Snape continued.

Without pause, Hermione continued, "It's responsible for creating a random shuffle for a 52-card deck in the game Muggles call 'poker,' variations of which include the popular Texas Hold 'em."

"Excellent, 10 points for you and your House. You will need them later," he smirked.

"Would anyone like to try their hand at poker?" Snape asked.

One hand in the back of the classroom went up and as Snape pointed to him he said, "Yes, you. Are you a new student? You appear to be much too old to be a student at Hogwarts. What is your name?"

"BadBlood."

"Heh, sounds like MudBlood," Draco Malfoy scoffed. His Slytherin companions Crabbe and Goyle chuckled loudly. Hermione Granger shot them an evil look and their smiles diminished, but didn't disappear completely.

"Well then Mr. Blood, welcome to class. You will be wagering Gryffindor points in this next hand of Texas Hold 'em. Are you ready?"

"Sure," BadBlood responded.

"Well then, have at it."

The Pokerstars RNG began to slowly rotate. As it did, it spit out two cards towards Professor Snape and two cards to BadBlood in clockwise fashion. BadBlood looked down at what the RNG had to offer. A King and a ten. Since he would be making decisions after Snape made his, BadBlood felt compelled to bet.

"I wager 10 Gryffindor points," he said.

"Fine bet, I will call."

A card was then emitted from the obsidian box and then it erupted into flames. "Ah yes, the BURN. I love that part of the game," Snape smiled. Then three more cards flew from the smooth box and hovered in the air before the class room.

"Accio Nuts!" BadBlood spoke and waved his wand just before the three cards were flipped. They came Ace, Queen, Jack. He had flopped a broadway straight as they say in the Muggle world.

"I will check to you," Snape said calmly and BadBlood responded, "I wager 50 Gryffindor points."

"Another fine bet, I again will call."

The burn card came out again, erupting this time with unanticipated sparks and dazzlers. Snape threw an evil glance towards the now giggling Weasley twins who upon noticing Snape's glare immediately sat back up straight in their chairs.

The 4th community card came and it was the 8 of clubs, putting a second club on the board.

"Check," Snape flatly declared and still confident with his pre-flop incantation, BadBlood said aloud, "I wager 100 Gyrffindor points."

"Getting awfully confident, aren't we Mr. Blood? I call once more."

Finally the last card came out and it was yet another Queen, this too of clubs. BadBlood's heart sank a little bit, but he thought perhaps his hand was still good. He would no longer be betting Gryffindor points with the Nuts. His spell, while working perfectly on the flop, no longer held true.

"I wager two-thousand Slytherin points," Snape bellowed, becoming more animated and approaching BadBlood at the back of the room.

"What are you going to do now, Mr. Blood? Your hand is no longer the nuts, your pre-flop spell was worthless. Well? What are you going to do?"

"Expelleramus!" BadBlood shouted.

However, there was no immediate reaction from Snape.

Slowly, though, he began to smile. "Expelleramus? Do you expect me to muck my cards BadBlood? Do you expect me to let you win this hand on a technicality? You aren't playing with Muggles boy." Now, laughing quite hard, Snape said, "You must call or fold, your house is depending on you."

With a disheartened look, BadBlood waved his wand and his two cards vanished from in front of him, into the magical muck they went.

"Yes, I thought so. That was of course the proper fold, however you did lose 160 house points to Slytherin. So class, what did we learn today?"

"That you're a calling station?" quipped Ronald Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley, you've just cost your house twenty-five more points. Do you have anything more constructive to add?" Shaking his head, Ron looked sheepishly back down at his open "Dumbledore on Hold'em" book.

"Nobody? Well let me spell it out for you all then. Beware this poker game students! Give it your greatest respect. For among all the Dark Magic objects in existence today, none are completely defenseless. Except for this one!" Snape pointed to the black box Pokerstars RNG.

"If you remember anything from this class all year, remember this: There is no defense against the suckout."

The Cure

For every ailment, there is a cure.

Over the course of last two weeks, I implemented a new strategy to playing 6-max NL online. It potentially over-emphasizes position, but it was experimental. And it worked. I was finding that I was winning at a crazy rate, more than likely it was unsustainable. I posted 14 consecutive winning sessions for about 10-12 buy-ins. The only times I was losing was to cold decks and bad beats. But still the frequency with which those happened was small enough such that my stylistic changes more than compensated.

The ailment was winning.

The cure was moving up in stakes.

I took the same style to the new level. With the new level came better players whose re-raising range from out of position was much larger than those of the level previous. Still, I thought that my new style change would compensate.

It would have. Except the fact that the cold deck and bad beat frequency rose with the level change. Nice way to undo all I did.

****

The general malaise plaguing my last post was an ailment. The cure was getting the family back in town and getting back to the gym. As much as I love (am addicted to) poker, I will quit it before I ever quit hitting the gym. Nothing beats a good work out for me.

****

The scarcity of home games in G-Vegas was ailing the community. The cure is hosting a low stakes Saturday night festival of donkey poker. There will be much drinking. And some of the old guard is coming out to play.

****

FYI: I hate the Cure. The band anyway.

...."Show me, show me, show me".....GUNSHOT

State of the Union

Where I'm at, where I've been, where I will be.

****

I've been given an opportunity to take a full week's break from live poker, effective yesterday. My wife and daughter are flying up to New York City to visit my sister for the weekend and are leaving Thursday. (FYI: My sister is single, hear that Rooster?) As such, I'll be a full time Dad for a few days and although I'm not completely sure, taking miniBlood to the underground games in town is most likely a bad idea. Unless of course I stake him.

I've lost my last three sessions and the timing for this break couldn't be better. Is there a growing disillusionment with poker festering somewhere inside my mind? Maybe. Maybe not. If there is, its source is the thoughts of playing just-slightly-above-break-even poker for nearly seven months.

In January, I was riding high on a very positive month and purchased new furniture for the wife. I managed to negotiate another poker night per week out of the deal, but still used it only sparingly. Still, when there's very little money coming in, thoughts of lost time fill my head.

You know, as you age and approach 40, you realize time is the most precious of resources. We each have a finite, and yet unknown amount of it. You can't get it back. Ever.

****

Certainly over the past four years, I've taken more out of the game than I've put in. Monetarily that is. But what about everything else? Obviously I have doubts.

The facets of poker that interest me are not often found at a local 1/2 table. Playing ABC poker, getting a hand and getting paid off is simply brain-dead, mechanical play. There is no intellectual stimulation there. And lately, I've not had the patience to play that way. I want a different challenge.

The question is, where do I find it? Higher limits? Maybe. But I've not the roll for that since I invested 2/3rds of my winnings. Stupid or smart? You decide. I haven't yet.

****

Monday night, The Depot was rolling. There were three 1/2 tables and one full 5/10 table. It was sick. As I sat there and lost, I thought that this evening was the culmination of everything that's been happening in the G-Vegas poker scene for the past few years. I consider myself partly responsible, but there's basically no chance of ever having a regular home game again.

And as much as I used to consider live, mixed-game limit poker the least stimulating of games, I confess to yearning for at least one night of doing just that.

I will probably schedule a 4/8 HORSE game for the house sometime after Otis detoxes and for a night G-Rob can make it. After speaking with them, I have a feeling that may be what we all need.

****

Where is this all going? I'm not sure. If you look up mid-life crisis on wikipedia, the sixth characteristic states "a deep sense of remorse for goals not accomplished."

My goals in life have really never been discrete ones. They've been continuous. Raising and providing for a family is not something you just do one day, it's something that happens little by little over long periods of time. There is no watershed moment when you say to yourself, "I've done it." It's just something that you do. It gives you guidance when you need to make a decision. Kind of like playing good poker.

I have no defining moment in poker. No "big win" per se. I just have a bunch of little decisions whose cumulative effect has made me a winning player. Lately, I'd have to say that it's not been enough. I need and want more out of the game, but feel there's not a real way to get it. This break will be good for me. I want to squash the lingering doubt that I just may have been playing too much, the cost of which being something too high for me to pay.

Blockade

I guess it's not just me.

There's a player who frequents the Depot, and while I can't quite remember his name, I won't forget certain aspects of his play that remind me a little bit of myself. Certainly players with opposing styles can teach you about your own game and what it lacks. But studying players with very similar styles can also yield valuable insights as well.

He's a solid player, and without meaning to be to critical of his play, I'd assess his style as nearly identical to mine prior to me paying closer attention to the unorthodox play of G-Rob and TheMark. It would be unfair to say he's predictable, but certainly tight and aggressive would be appropriate.

Regardless, last night at The Depot the aforementioned player managed to get all his money in against two other players holding top and bottom pair on a 2-spade board. The turn paired his lower card giving him 5's full of King's. Unfortunately, the other card on the board, a seven, paired on the river giving someone else 7's full of 5's. It turned out to be a one-outer. I felt his pain from across the table. But not right then.

The pain I felt happened perhaps only 15 minutes later when he flopped top set against pocket Queens. Again, the money went in on the flop and the player with Queens was pleading for the dealer to run out diamonds or just give him the 2-outer to end it then. The Queen hit the river and when it did, I read the player for being somewhat devastated.

Meanwhile, I'd managed to build my stack up by avoiding such beats and was riding high on a surge of confidence.

So what did I do? Here's where the sadist in me comes to life.

I tried to put my frame of mind in his. I tried to make me think that the beats had just happened to me. Why? Because I find it so hard to do the exact opposite. I still find it extremely difficult to force my mindset to the confidence that a big winning stack affords me after I take some improbable beats.

Perhaps the path towards that mindset lay in traversing it in reverse.

And you know what? I couldn't do it. Just as I can't seem to find that confidence after taking a string of bad beats, neither can I find that desolation with a pile of profit in front of me. It's odd. I just can't trick myself. And maybe that's what is holding me back a bit in this poker game I keep playing.

More than likely, the path exists, but it takes me longer than most to find it. I found myself muttering to the wife on the ride home from the vacation poker debacle and it wasn't until we arrived back at the hotel that I was over it. It took me about twenty minutes. Not five, not ten, but a full twenty.

Luckily The Depot has other things to do, because generally I just rebuy instantly to get back into the game after I go broke on a beat. Perhaps now, I'll make a martini (that takes easily 5 minutes to do correctly) and have a seat on the sidelines until I clear that path I can't normally find right away.

One Day On Vacation

Mrs_Blood gave the go-ahead on one day of poker-ing during our stay down here in Northern Florida. The card rooms in the area had just expanded their options and betting limits, even including a no-limit offering with $100 max buy-ins. With the blinds at these tables being $2/$2, I knew it would be somewhat of a crapshoot. Little did I know it'd be a crap-fest.

Mrs_Blood was having a stupendous day. She had been offered a job she had been after, one that is a bit of a promotion for her as a teacher of little rugrats. She had interviewed a while ago and got an unexpected phone call in the morning informing her of the news. To say she was excited was an understatement.

Later on in the afternoon, her good fortune continued as she was searching for shark's teeth on the beach we were staying on. She found a second one to go with the one she found earlier. Even the small things make her get excited, as anyone who's met her knows.

I figured that with her luck, she'd clean up at the poker tables. I gave her $100 and sat her at a $2/$4 limit table while I took my chances at the no-limit tables.

What a freaking disaster.

For me.

My first hand of joy saw me check-raise all in on an AQT flop holding top two. My big-stacked opponent was just trying to double me up by calling with QJ. I figured I was sweating a King. Silly me. Try runner-runner Jacks. That stung, especially considering the runner-runner debacle I suffered at the Depot a couple of weeks ago that I still won't blog about because it was so absurd.

Undeterred, I rebought. Meanwhile, Mrs_Blood mouths to me from a table across the room that she's up $50. Just like I thought. It is her day after all.

The second river suckout wasn't as bad. Again, with stacks so small in relation to flop pot sizes, I check-raised all-in again with top pair, decent kicker. A flush draw with no overcards called and hit on the river.

Slightly deterred, I rebought.

My third buy-in whittled down slowly and when I saw a cheap flop of 973 with 56 of spades, I went with it. Sadly, I got called by a set of 9's (can't people fold??!?!??!?!) and missed. Sure, get money in bad and miss? At this table?

"OK," I said to myself. "Last try." Twenty more red chips came my way. Mrs_Blood was getting hungry, not having eaten in a while, but slightly satiated by her $100 in profit. "Just a little bit longer?" She agreed. She's a keeper.

I called a raise in position with 96d, not necessarily strong poker, but the guy who raised was just giving money away. He was so horrifically bad, I can easily say that he was the worst player I've ever played against in a long time.

When the flop came 922, he pushed. Folded to me, I read him for crap and called. Everyone else folded and he flipped up T4o. He was proud. "I just need a ten," he said.

Turn 4.

River 10.

I was now officially on tilt. Just as I raised my beer to my mouth to take a sip, a young Asian kid who had been seated to my right got up to change seats at the table. He collided with my elbow, forcing me to spill my beer.

All over myself.

The table continued to laugh. That's right, I said "continued." You see, they had been laughing at the horrendous play and suckout of the previous hand.

As the beer soaked through my shirt and shorts, I wondered to myself who I would have to kill to make me feel better. Sadly, well maybe not, the young kid apologized profusely, so I couldn't kill him. The dealer? No. The shuffle machines buried in the table were to blame at this point. The asswipe across from me who was giving chips away? No. I still had a half of a buy-in.

Without anyone to maim or kill, I inadvertently limped UTG with my hand thinking I was the big blind. Someone in middle position raised to $12, asswipe called and I finally looked down at my two cards.

AJc. Fuck it. All-in.

The original raiser folded and as the laughter died down finally, asswipe said, "I'll give you your chips back," and called.

QJo. I didn't stand a chance.

The flop was all hearts. Turn was a black King. River was a 4th heart and his Queen of hearts took down the pot. More laughter.

Finally, I left the table. I was beaten. I went over to Mrs_Blood's table and she was running the show. She was all too happy to cash out with her profit for the evening, getting congratulated by the rest of the table on some unexpected good play on her part. I was proud of her. It was her day, not mine. She was gracious enough to listen to me whine about my beats (just as did you oh fine reader) and still smile at the end of it all.

I'll always be glad to lose in poker if it means a member of my immediate family can have good fortune. If that's the trade off I make in life, then so be it. Really, how can I complain with the wife and the kids I've got greeting me at the door each day? It would be silly to take bad poker beats to heart.

Tomorrow is another day. And I'm still on vacation. Because everyone is happy, so am I.

Vay K

I'll be heading out soon for the annual family vacation, so posting will be minimalistic between now and my return.

Not much going on other than spending a great 4th at TheMark's who yet again put together a very respectable fireworks show on his front lawn. I made salsa, MrsAllIn made everything else, so you know the food was great.

Good luck to all the WSOP Main Event coverage folks, I guess the light at the end of the tunnel may not be that freight train coming your way. Apologies to James Hetfield.