Thursday's at Blood's

For the next several months, I'll be stuck at home on Thursday nights. Kids with soccer, kids with baseball, and as of last week, the Mrs. at night class.

Playing live poker is still one of the things I'd like to continue to do, but lately there's been some things going on that have been detrimental to that. Robberies, busts, and moronic wrestling matches. (What's my age again?)

So since I can't go out on Thursday's until next May, I'm going to start regularly hosting a game on Thursday nights at the house. If people want to play, they can show up. Perhaps some nights we'll have a tournament. Some nights could be HORSE. Most nights will probably be 1/2NL, but hell, PLO is not out of the question.

In fact, the number of players who show up won't matter either, as long as it's less than ten. Ten will be my max just because of space limitations. If just one person shows up and wants to take my bankroll in a headsup match, so be it.

Anyway, an email to my distribution list will be going out soon. I'd like to start up on Thursday the 20th.

There won't be stupid drinking or stupid antics by yours truly. Just another home game hopefully rising from the ashes of its early demise.

Karma, For She Hath Forsaken Me

So I busted the slow-roller last Friday night....

****

I'm not sure what it is. They do say nice guys finish last, and maybe, I'm perceived as being a nice guy. Possibly because I tend not to actively be a prick towards others. Still, because of that perception, I tend to get crapped on. At this stage in life, I probably won't change very much. Trying on a new personality will be a fruitless endeavor, so I'll just keep up with my old ways, being nice, finishing last, taken advantage of.

****

No worries though. It just happens when I play poker.

****

I managed to flop a flush on Friday night. I had position on the slow-roller and he just kept leading into me, every betting round. Finally on the river, he went all in. I called.

He tabled his garbage hand.

There it was. My opportunity to get him back for the trash-talk. To get him back for the three consecutive slow-rolls.

I didn't do it.

I tabled my hand quickly and raked in the pot. I chose the high road. But it led over a cliff. Into a pile of poo.

****

Holding AJ in mid position, I flopped trips on a KJJ flop. I bet. I got called. Wash-rinse-repeat. On the river, I finally realized I doubled my opponent up, who held KJ. I don't mind the hand, the same action follows if he had QJ or JT. Those things happen.

Not two minutes later, the guy got up to leave. Hit and run? It looked as much. But to be fair, he said it wasn't. The guy happened to be the person who got hit the worst at the robbery at Black Stallion. Something about the game right then and there spooked him enough such that he felt he had to leave.

Having never been involved in such an event, who am I to judge? It was unfortunate for me is all. But still, thanks karma.

****

Later on, I flopped trips. On the turn I got my opponent all-in with his naked flush draw. He hit, of course. They always do.

And then he did a dance. Right there at the table, he did the old "Churn the Butter." I did not enjoy the rendition. Karma must have however. She'd schedule a repeat performance soon enough.

****

I made a big call. This time someone pushed on the turn. I had only a pair of fours and the 2nd nut flush draw. But I thought I was good.

I was.

Opponent had no pair, but the nut flush draw.

An innocuous card hit the river and I still thought I was good.

I wasn't.

The card filled a highly disguised inside straight.

More dancing.

****

It was past 3am and I new I was in trouble. My curfew is a more than reasonable 3am and I was going to be late. Sure enough, I was late and caught the requisite AND appropriate ration of shit from the Mrs.

Later that morning after she further expressed her disappointment in my later than normal return time, she said, "Are you even having fun playing poker lately?"

****

Karma is having fun. I, on the other hand, had to answer truthfully.

"No, not lately."

The Nit I've Become

I'll be honest. I think that I've fallen into the trap of playing too cautiously. I'm trying to avoid losses rather than maximizing wins and in doing so, I'm leaving money on the table.

I confess, I've become a bit gun shy. Of the pots I've been all-in on where I'm greater than a 90% favorite to win, I've won only 1 out of my last 5. And that gets to me. Still. And that's bad.

Because when the odds shift back into my favor, I'll not have as much money in the pot as I should.

Case in point: Wednesday night, impromptu rake-free game at the Depot. Player Appreciation Night, if you will.

I'm in the big blind with a monster, 83o. Funny how these no-name hands tend to win you the most. Funny how? Like a clown?

Anyway, I see a free flop and it's the classic flop bottom two-pair on a flush draw board - T83 with two hearts. With about six players in the pot, I lead out for $10 and get called in 3 spots. OK, should be easy to put people on hands here. There's at least one flush draw and some guy has a ten, more than likely.

Turn is another 8, giving me 8's over 3's. Again, I lead out, this time for $30. I get one caller to my immediate left and then get raised to $80. As it's folded around to me, I take a peak at the raiser's stack. We're playing similar sized stacks of about $400. The player to my direct left who simply called would be all-in if he called the $50 raise.

I hesitated. I didn't know what to do just yet. Was I beat? Did the guy have T8 for a cooler? Frankly, I kind of thought so. But at this point, I justified my smooth call by trying to get the guy to my left all-in too.

That's right. I sacrificed a potential $400 double-up to win an already committed $45.

The river brought a King and completed the flush draw. I made what's called a Vaj-tastic, blocking, value, SCARED POKER bet of $100. The guy just smooth called, obviously afraid of the flush.

Afraid of the flush. Because he only had trip 8's holding A8.

Granted, I dodged a 3-outer. I figure I have about 36 more of those to win before the stats even out. However, I left about $300 on the table by not pushing on the turn.

I asked the player if he'd have called my all-in bet.

"Yes." Trips with Ace kicker, of course he would. I've seen him do it before for more money.

And so I won a pot and came to the realization that I've been playing like a cautious nit lately and decided that I won't be doing that any longer.

The Face of All Your Fears

I'd have to go back and check some old posts, but I would imagine that I've been playing in some of the local underground cardrooms for over a year now. My initial fears in playing at some of these places were quelled with time and a desensitization that naturally occurs with repeated visits. The more conservative folks I told about the games always said, "The cops are gonna bust that place up" or "That game will get robbed." Deep down, I shared those thoughts, but of course looked past them with the eyes of someone blinded by a desire to play cards.

On Sunday, my daughter's 4pm soccer game got rained out by a passing thunderstorm. As I walked back into my house that day, an idea popped into my head ever so briefly that maybe I'd go play some Sunday afternoon cards. I'd done it only once before, back in May when the family was out of town for the long weekend. The Black Stallion game ran that day and easily filled two tables.

For whatever reason, the thought left my mind as easily as it entered. Which was a real good thing. Up for Poker has already linked to this story and now so will I.

Jacked.

Of the two evils (getting arrested or robbed), this is obviously the worse. I've played in four locations here in G-Vegas. Of those four, I'd have to say that two were in locations with little to no options for security. Thankfully, The Depot has the tightest security, and is of course where I play most frequently. The setup is not perfect, but it's orders of magnitude better than anything the other rooms have. And of course, it will get better based on the events of this weekend.

I'm both sad and disappointed. Sad for the people involved who had to go through that experience. And disappointed that the environment for playing cards has to be so potentially dangerous.

There's a middle ground somewhere for a game's popularity and size. If it gets too big, it attracts unwanted attention. If it remains too small, it becomes unsustainable. Reality has sunk in and it's not pretty. I'm not sure what the future holds. But I do know that business was down last night at The Depot, most likely based on news from the previous evening.

Poker junkies don't really think rationally when there's a chance to play cards, so I imagine that within weeks, it will be business as usual. My kids' seasonal sports have just started back up and as such I wouldn't have been able to play in the Black Stallion game for months anyway. But my kids' future depends on my health and my continued ability to earn a living.

Home game anyone?

Very Far From

Ok, I absolutely kid you not.

My big fortune 5 company that I work for, in an effort to save 13 cents, decided that shutting off the AC in my building over the weekend is a freaking great way to save cash. This morning, it was 101° in my office.

When I rest my forearms on my desk, it's hot to the touch.

The fact that it's Monday was bad enough. Oh yeah, poker. Hey, flopped a set of Jacks on a J92 rainbow board. A guy with J7o put me all in. So I called and lost.

Christ, now I'm sweating just typing this. I think it would be unwise for me to even think about venturing into the men's bathroom. Not wise. Very far from wise.

It's On

Interesting situation last night at the Black Stallion game.

Here's what I know. It's wrong to slow roll. It's also wrong to target a particular player at the table, mainly because you'll probably end up going broke to someone else while doing so.

Still.

It's on.

There's a player for whom I'm not even going to come up with a creative pseudonym that slow rolled on three consecutive hands last week. I have to believe it wasn't carelessness, but rather performed out of malice.

Here's a quick example. The pot is perhaps $300. Player A, a good guy, tables his hand and states two-pair - they happened to be King's up. Slow roller picks his cards up off the table and looks at them, holding them in front of himself gazing at them.

Now, count to, oh let's say seven. Go ahead.

Done?

Good.

Now the player tables his hand and doesn't say a word. The pot was this close to getting shipped to Player A. Slowroller had Aces up, drug the pot and said nothing.

This happened three consecutive hands.

So last night happens.

I'm sitting on my last orbit with about $640 in my stack. Slowroller is to my direct right. I can't find anything to play unfortunately, so I cash out right as it's my big blind. This conversation ensues.

"That's right, you better cash out."

"Huh?" I ask.

"If you want to keep those chips, leaving's a good idea."

"Are you for real?"

"I'm tellin' ya, I'll take all that money if you stay."

Wow, I thought to myself. Guy's talking shit to me. As much as I wanted to stay, I still left. Which is fine, because I was up a bit and had no interest in swinging dicks with this guy at one in the morning.

That's not to say, however, that there won't come a time when I will have such interest. And then, it will be on. So fucking on.

Life Is Rigged

I think we all know how dangerous it is to either post or make mention of a nice run of winning sessions in poker. You're just inviting disaster. Well, the same holds true in real life as well.

Last week I did a small dance in the office because I had just made some final payments on items that cropped up unexpectedly during the year. It began in January, the day before my trip to Tunica. I got a phone call - "Hey, the washer's broken." "Hey, buy a new one," I replied. So the Mrs. did. If Lowe's is going to offer you a no interest loan, I figure I'll take it. Still $500+ is not something I just have lying around the house. Well, I kind of do, but I'm sure as shit not dipping into poker money for house related items. Fuck that noise.

The washer was life's first salvo in the battle against me saving any real world money this year.

Next up came my wife's minivan 30,000 service call. Hey, sweet, another $500. Poof gone. Not long after, March's car tax bill showed up in the mail. Cool, I don't need $700. Oh, by the way, our termite contract with the exterminator company expired and they need to re-do their magic under the house. Awesome! Because $600 is burning holes in my pocket.

Let's not even mention that last year's 10th anniversary present to my wife took one year to pay for. Damn her for liking diamonds! Damn her!

Last thing was our mid-July vacation. St. Augustine, Florida isn't cheap when you're eating out every night. While worth it, it pained me to receive the credit card bill for the trip.

So when I clicked send on the final payment for just about everything I was nearly ecstatic. I was going to free up close to $500 a month, not to mention the Mrs. going back to work in August meant some unaccounted for income. It was like I was rolling in dough.

But. As I said. Life is rigged.

Not thirty minutes after the last payment was sent, our dryer broke. That's just great. Back to Lowe's, and back to 0% interest.

It took a while, maybe a couple of days, but I got over it. I wasn't going to let life tilt me too much.

Then this morning happened. I pulled into my work's parking lot and bottomed out going over one of the speed bumps. WTF? Of course, flat front left tire. And on and on it goes.

Anybody want to wager what's next? It's gotta be my TV next. Gotta be.

****

There's some iPod meme going on where you post the first line or two of the first 20 songs your iPod plays on shuffle. Here's mine.

1. I've found tricks. That I use when I know that I've been beat.
2. Never again. On your forcefed illusions to choke.
3. Drones since the dawn of time. Compelled to live your sheltered lives.
4. Coming down the mountain. One of many children. (A gimme for everyone)
5. Born with eyes. But they are not to see.
6. Takers of humanity, elders paranoid.
7. Down south soldier,Third world soldier. My vengeance will be swift and terrible.
8. You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need. (A gimme for G-Rob)
9. White coats to bind me, out of control. I live alone inside my mind. (A gimme for Al, StB)
10. By the last breath of the fourth winds blow. Better raise your ears.
11. I will bid farewell, sever the ties.
12. As I aim for that bright white day. Conflict serum is my aura. (One of my all time favorites)
13. A play on words, or words on play. Last chapter, verse in the final act.
14. Empty and sweating. Head lying in your hands.
15. Wallow in darkness. And ever lasting pain.
16. You're workin in bars, ridin in cars. Never gonna give it for free.
17. So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell.
18. Divine queen of evil. Sowing her seeds of hate.
19. Every man will ask the questions. And every man will suffer blame and loss.
20. Hate is on the march. Hence the kiss of death.