One of the floor people told me today that I was the best prop. That doesn't mean I'm actually any good at the games, he's just referring to the fact that I actually try to help start games and keep them going. I guess it's time to start slacking off before the other prop players become resentful.
As for actually playing the games, I'm now quite comfortable with both 20-40 holdem and 20-40 hi-lo stud. When I first started I'm not sure I had much positive expectation in these games, but now I'm beating them handily. In fact, 20-40 hi-lo stud would be my favorite game now, except that the other players are so horrible to be around. As for the holdem game, one of the other props, who I think is one of the best players there, suggested to me that I should try to always have enough chips in front of me to avoid ever having to be all-in, because when that happens I miss opportunities to outplay people. I told him my philosophy of the mathematical advantages of being all in (ie, someone who is not all-in might fold what would have been a hand that beat me). He said he thought I had enough of a skill advantage over the other players that I'd do better with more chips despite the theoretical all-in advantages. It was nice to get a vote of confidence in my limit holdem game, which I'm still working on.
About three weeks ago, a hi-lo regular named Gus died right at the table. It happened about an hour before I got to the casino. Heart attack, I think. I remember him just sitting at the table looking angry, but not usually actually playing.
Barry Greenstein was behind me in line at the cashier at one point today. I did a double-take when I noticed him, and he promptly left. There's often a big game in the corner of the room where I work (a mix-game up to 2000-4000, I think), which is often started when Jerry Buss shows up. He was there a couple weeks ago playing against Layne Flack, among others. I didn't see either of them there today, though.
About a month ago I was playing in a 4-handed $500 NL game, and one of the other players had a jacket with Tom "Captain" Franklin on the back. I didn't make anything of it, but then I saw his name in Card Player magazine. He's got a long tournament history. At the hi-lo game I often play with Joe Wynn (who also plays NL holdem) and David Young, who are both quite good. Joe folded 3 aces to me on 5th street after I bet with a board of 457 (I had an 8-high straight). Not many people would have gotten away from that hand so cheaply. David's been sort of trying to coach me. He says there used to be a big hi-lo stud game at the Bike (100-200 maybe) and he used to play against Ray Zee.
I also had a conversation with the keyboardist from My Morning Jacket, which I later found out is a favorite bad of my brother's. I had never heard of them. Brigid called just after he told me the name of the band, though, and she is apparently also a fan. We were playing $300-500 buying NL holdem (5-5 blinds). Sometimes I play these bigger NL games if they're just getting started and I'm not needed anywhere else, even though I'm only required to play $100 or $200 NL.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
This and That
It's been a few weeks since I last wrote, and I've been playing poker 40 hours a week at my new prop job, so there are lots of little stories to recount. The job itself I find to be pretty agreeable, except that I miss being able to take a few days off whenever I want to.
The owner of the Bike likes to play the 20-40 limit game. He's pretty bad, but mostly just because he plays way too many hands. If you don't care too much about losing a few hundred, I suppose it's probably a lot more fun to play almost every hand than it is to fold a lot. I was sitting next to him in the game a few weeks ago and Johnny Chan ambled over wearing a Bellagio shirt and a hat with some other casino's name on it. They discussed some project together for about 10 minutes. I don't think I've noticed any other recognizable players at the Bike, though. However, few days ago I did play high-low stud with the supposedly well-known whale Kim "The Dragon" Nguyen, who confirms that she once bet $1mil on the Superbowl. (Did she win? "Of course.") She seemed about as bad as the average stud high-low player.
Speaking of the high-low game, I've actually been doing well in it. I think it has something to do with the fact that I tend to give it my full attention, which I guess makes up for the 50 years of experience that the other players can draw upon. The culture of these games is startlingly different from that of the holdem games I'm used to. The most obvious difference is that most of the players have no qualms about harassing the dealers for any reason, usually just because they are not getting good enough hands. I honestly think they believe the dealers have something to do with the cards they get. Perhaps 40 years ago there was a lot of cheating going on, and so maybe the dealers really did have had the ability to manipulate the game, but in this game the dealers don't even shuffle the cards themselves (there are machines for that). Besides, I don't think the disgruntled players are trying to imply that the dealers are cheating, but rather just that they are bad luck, which, somehow, calls for them to be verbally abused. It is sometimes really shocking how convinced people are of their superstitions. Yesterday I overheard one such player ("Otto") respond to the question "are you in?" by shouting "With HER dealing? I'd have to be NUTS!" In other words, he was sitting out until a new dealer came to the table. This isn't actually one of the more ridiculous examples, but usually the abuse just involves berating the dealer for being "brain-dead" or something. Another odd thing about this game is that players will get quite upset if I take more than 2 seconds to make a decision during the hand, but on the last betting round, they will sometimes take literally 10 seconds before even looking at their last card. I think they like to keep themselves in suspense, and this is such standard practice that nobody ever complains about the delay. Then after all the action is finished, they will sometimes take as long as 20 seconds to decide whether to show their hand (I've actually considered calling for a clock on someone who was doing this), and often even more time is allotted to complaining to the other players about how unlucky they were to have lost. Then they often call for a new setup (ie, a brand new deck of cards), which they are allowed to ask for once an hour. This takes about 2 more minutes for the dealer to examine to make sure the cards are all there and unmarked. All of this is taken in stride by the other stud high-low players, but I am not allowed to consider how to play my hand for more than a second. In their minds, I think the honestly consider the actual play of the hands to be less important than these other practices of superstition and self-pity.
Holding AJc, I made a royal flush in 20-40 holdem on Sunday. If I were playing lower stakes, I would have been awarded a $1000 jackpot, but that promotion isn't offered at these stakes. I did get a couple hundred from the pot, though.
There is, however, a "bad beat jackpot" in the 20-40 game. If you have aces full of tens or better and lose to quads or better, you win half the jackpot, the winner of the hand gets a quarter of the jackpot, and the other players at the table split the rest. However, you need to use both cards in your hand. During odd hours (eg 1-2pm, 3-4pm), the jackpot is $100k, the rest of the time it's a progressive jackpot that starts around $10k. Last week the Jackpot was at $25k, and I held KK in the big blind. The first player raised, and there were three callers. I reraised, and 5 players saw a flop of AA6. Now, if someone had an A and either the turn or the river is another A, I would have the losing end of the jackpot, good for $12.5k. Everyone now checked to the button, who bet. I called, as did the pre-flop raiser. Since the button cold-called a raise preflop, it's reasonable to assume he has either a pocket pair (which I'm beating) or an A with a decent kicker (probably 8 or better). The turn was another A, so now I figure I'm either going to win the hand or the $12.5k (as long as the river card is lower than the kicker that goes with the A). Again the button bet, I called, and the third player folded. The river was a 4, which is a great card for me because now I will either win the pot or the jackpot unless the button has specifically A5, A4, A3, or A2. I bet, figuring it's pretty likely the button just has TT or 99 or something. When the button then raised, I realized he must have the A. I called expecting to win the jackpot... but my opponent showed A2. I lost $200 on the hand.
I am already halfway up on the seniority list for 20-40 props. There are seven of us, three of whom were hired after I started last month.
I overheard a lady in the 40-80 holdem game say "I raise... NOT!" The floorman was called over, and it was ruled that she would be required to put in the raise.
The owner of the Bike likes to play the 20-40 limit game. He's pretty bad, but mostly just because he plays way too many hands. If you don't care too much about losing a few hundred, I suppose it's probably a lot more fun to play almost every hand than it is to fold a lot. I was sitting next to him in the game a few weeks ago and Johnny Chan ambled over wearing a Bellagio shirt and a hat with some other casino's name on it. They discussed some project together for about 10 minutes. I don't think I've noticed any other recognizable players at the Bike, though. However, few days ago I did play high-low stud with the supposedly well-known whale Kim "The Dragon" Nguyen, who confirms that she once bet $1mil on the Superbowl. (Did she win? "Of course.") She seemed about as bad as the average stud high-low player.
Speaking of the high-low game, I've actually been doing well in it. I think it has something to do with the fact that I tend to give it my full attention, which I guess makes up for the 50 years of experience that the other players can draw upon. The culture of these games is startlingly different from that of the holdem games I'm used to. The most obvious difference is that most of the players have no qualms about harassing the dealers for any reason, usually just because they are not getting good enough hands. I honestly think they believe the dealers have something to do with the cards they get. Perhaps 40 years ago there was a lot of cheating going on, and so maybe the dealers really did have had the ability to manipulate the game, but in this game the dealers don't even shuffle the cards themselves (there are machines for that). Besides, I don't think the disgruntled players are trying to imply that the dealers are cheating, but rather just that they are bad luck, which, somehow, calls for them to be verbally abused. It is sometimes really shocking how convinced people are of their superstitions. Yesterday I overheard one such player ("Otto") respond to the question "are you in?" by shouting "With HER dealing? I'd have to be NUTS!" In other words, he was sitting out until a new dealer came to the table. This isn't actually one of the more ridiculous examples, but usually the abuse just involves berating the dealer for being "brain-dead" or something. Another odd thing about this game is that players will get quite upset if I take more than 2 seconds to make a decision during the hand, but on the last betting round, they will sometimes take literally 10 seconds before even looking at their last card. I think they like to keep themselves in suspense, and this is such standard practice that nobody ever complains about the delay. Then after all the action is finished, they will sometimes take as long as 20 seconds to decide whether to show their hand (I've actually considered calling for a clock on someone who was doing this), and often even more time is allotted to complaining to the other players about how unlucky they were to have lost. Then they often call for a new setup (ie, a brand new deck of cards), which they are allowed to ask for once an hour. This takes about 2 more minutes for the dealer to examine to make sure the cards are all there and unmarked. All of this is taken in stride by the other stud high-low players, but I am not allowed to consider how to play my hand for more than a second. In their minds, I think the honestly consider the actual play of the hands to be less important than these other practices of superstition and self-pity.
Holding AJc, I made a royal flush in 20-40 holdem on Sunday. If I were playing lower stakes, I would have been awarded a $1000 jackpot, but that promotion isn't offered at these stakes. I did get a couple hundred from the pot, though.
There is, however, a "bad beat jackpot" in the 20-40 game. If you have aces full of tens or better and lose to quads or better, you win half the jackpot, the winner of the hand gets a quarter of the jackpot, and the other players at the table split the rest. However, you need to use both cards in your hand. During odd hours (eg 1-2pm, 3-4pm), the jackpot is $100k, the rest of the time it's a progressive jackpot that starts around $10k. Last week the Jackpot was at $25k, and I held KK in the big blind. The first player raised, and there were three callers. I reraised, and 5 players saw a flop of AA6. Now, if someone had an A and either the turn or the river is another A, I would have the losing end of the jackpot, good for $12.5k. Everyone now checked to the button, who bet. I called, as did the pre-flop raiser. Since the button cold-called a raise preflop, it's reasonable to assume he has either a pocket pair (which I'm beating) or an A with a decent kicker (probably 8 or better). The turn was another A, so now I figure I'm either going to win the hand or the $12.5k (as long as the river card is lower than the kicker that goes with the A). Again the button bet, I called, and the third player folded. The river was a 4, which is a great card for me because now I will either win the pot or the jackpot unless the button has specifically A5, A4, A3, or A2. I bet, figuring it's pretty likely the button just has TT or 99 or something. When the button then raised, I realized he must have the A. I called expecting to win the jackpot... but my opponent showed A2. I lost $200 on the hand.
I am already halfway up on the seniority list for 20-40 props. There are seven of us, three of whom were hired after I started last month.
I overheard a lady in the 40-80 holdem game say "I raise... NOT!" The floorman was called over, and it was ruled that she would be required to put in the raise.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Stud Eight-or-Better
I've been holding my own in the 20-40 limit holdem game and crushing the no-limit games, but I'm still pretty lost when it comes to Stud eight-or-better. Through pure luck, I'm actually still up at this game after playing for 15 hours or so, but it takes all my concentration just to avoid making bonehead plays. There are a ton of things to think about and keep track of during the hands, and the skills and instincts I've developed for holdem have not translated as easily as I'd hoped. Here's a list of some things that are second nature for experienced stud8 players that I need to train myself to do better:
1. Keep track of several boards (one for each player) rather than just one community board.
2. Remember which cards have been folded. Part of this is identifying early which cards will be important to remember.
3. Calculate approximate odds for 3-card starting hands with 4 cards to come, and for 4-card hands with 3 cards to come. These odds need to be approximated for both the low and the high half.
4. Understand the meaning of other player's bets.
5. Keep track of who has to bet first (it's whoever has the best high hand showing, but this can change with each card) so that I know what my position will likely be in future rounds.
6. Immediately identify which players have caught good cards and are likely to bet, which is necessary to know in order to make effective check-raises.
7. Identify situations where I want to try to push certain players out of the hand. Often this means trying to check-raise in order to force another player going the same way I am to put in two bets at once. Lots of players will automatically call a single bet, but if I can force them to call two at once there's a much better chance they will fold. For example, if the player to my left and I are the only two players going low in a 5-way pot, getting him to fold should often be my primary focus. I need to be able to identify when I'm in this situation and can count on one of the high hands to bet behind him so I can check raise. Too often I miss opportunities like this because I'm still trying to do points 1-6.
8. Recognizing situations where I will be caught in a raising war between other players, forcing me to put in many bets to see the next card. These situations demand that I fold to the first bet, but if I'm too slow to recognize that this is going to happen, I will call a bet before either having to fold or calling $160 worth of bets (only 4 bets allowed on each round, $40 each).
9. Keep track of what my own board looks like to the other players.
There are certainly some other things I haven't thought of and some others that I've never even considered. For the time being, I think I need to prioritize a few of these things to focus on. At this point, it's too overwhelming for me to keep track of all this. Maybe just studying the odds away from the table would be a good first step.
1. Keep track of several boards (one for each player) rather than just one community board.
2. Remember which cards have been folded. Part of this is identifying early which cards will be important to remember.
3. Calculate approximate odds for 3-card starting hands with 4 cards to come, and for 4-card hands with 3 cards to come. These odds need to be approximated for both the low and the high half.
4. Understand the meaning of other player's bets.
5. Keep track of who has to bet first (it's whoever has the best high hand showing, but this can change with each card) so that I know what my position will likely be in future rounds.
6. Immediately identify which players have caught good cards and are likely to bet, which is necessary to know in order to make effective check-raises.
7. Identify situations where I want to try to push certain players out of the hand. Often this means trying to check-raise in order to force another player going the same way I am to put in two bets at once. Lots of players will automatically call a single bet, but if I can force them to call two at once there's a much better chance they will fold. For example, if the player to my left and I are the only two players going low in a 5-way pot, getting him to fold should often be my primary focus. I need to be able to identify when I'm in this situation and can count on one of the high hands to bet behind him so I can check raise. Too often I miss opportunities like this because I'm still trying to do points 1-6.
8. Recognizing situations where I will be caught in a raising war between other players, forcing me to put in many bets to see the next card. These situations demand that I fold to the first bet, but if I'm too slow to recognize that this is going to happen, I will call a bet before either having to fold or calling $160 worth of bets (only 4 bets allowed on each round, $40 each).
9. Keep track of what my own board looks like to the other players.
There are certainly some other things I haven't thought of and some others that I've never even considered. For the time being, I think I need to prioritize a few of these things to focus on. At this point, it's too overwhelming for me to keep track of all this. Maybe just studying the odds away from the table would be a good first step.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
My First Full Work Week as a Prop
So far I like it. Last week I mentioned that I didn't understand how there could be so much downtime, but the past couple of days I did spend a lot of time sitting and doing almost nothing. The floormen will occasionally ask me to leave a game if a wait list has formed. Fortunately, there were some football games going on on Sunday. So, for several hours, I was being paid while I sat around, watched sports on TV, and chatted with other props and service people who were also bored. It seems like this sort of downtime will constitute at least 10% of my work week.
Most of the time, though, I have been playing. After a slow start, I'm back in the swing of things with my limit holdem, which is what they have me play the most (20-40). They've also been putting me in no-limit games quite a bit, often as low as $100 buy-in, and these are reasonably soft. I've played high-low split stud 8-or-better for a total of 15 minutes and won $9. I'm not confident that I'd be able to beat that game yet, so I've been avoiding it when given the choice.
I've made a good enough impression on one of the servers that she now stops by while I'm playing just to give me an iced tea or bottle of water. I've usually been eating two free meals a day at the casino, but sometimes one is just a fruit plate or soup. I've also gotten two milkshakes and two slices of pie, all on the house. They were good.
On Sunday, in the 20-40 holdem game, I was playing 6-handed with 5 other prop players for at least 20 minutes before another player showed up. This other player happened to be the most offensively angry and vulgar woman I think I've ever encountered. It took me quite a while to memorize her name, which was on her casino comp card, but it was worth it - "Spomenka Zeljkovic." She's overweight, around 50 years old, and speaks with something like a Russian accent. Supposedly she is a semi-regular player, but I can't understand how she has managed to avoid being kicked out of the casino. If you're curious what sorts of comments she was making, you'll have to ask me later. I'm not prepared to write the full extent of it here on my blog, but I will say that she was spewing a nearly nonstop stream of filth, and occasionally it was impressively creative. One less creatively vulgar incident was when another player got upset about being called a "fucking idiot," to which she responded "I don't mean you in particular." Later, a dealer complained to the floorman about her at one point, and so the floorman told Spomenka that "it's not nice to say those things." Actually, she did settle down quite a bit after that.
Now begins my Tuesday-Wednesday weekend.
Most of the time, though, I have been playing. After a slow start, I'm back in the swing of things with my limit holdem, which is what they have me play the most (20-40). They've also been putting me in no-limit games quite a bit, often as low as $100 buy-in, and these are reasonably soft. I've played high-low split stud 8-or-better for a total of 15 minutes and won $9. I'm not confident that I'd be able to beat that game yet, so I've been avoiding it when given the choice.
I've made a good enough impression on one of the servers that she now stops by while I'm playing just to give me an iced tea or bottle of water. I've usually been eating two free meals a day at the casino, but sometimes one is just a fruit plate or soup. I've also gotten two milkshakes and two slices of pie, all on the house. They were good.
On Sunday, in the 20-40 holdem game, I was playing 6-handed with 5 other prop players for at least 20 minutes before another player showed up. This other player happened to be the most offensively angry and vulgar woman I think I've ever encountered. It took me quite a while to memorize her name, which was on her casino comp card, but it was worth it - "Spomenka Zeljkovic." She's overweight, around 50 years old, and speaks with something like a Russian accent. Supposedly she is a semi-regular player, but I can't understand how she has managed to avoid being kicked out of the casino. If you're curious what sorts of comments she was making, you'll have to ask me later. I'm not prepared to write the full extent of it here on my blog, but I will say that she was spewing a nearly nonstop stream of filth, and occasionally it was impressively creative. One less creatively vulgar incident was when another player got upset about being called a "fucking idiot," to which she responded "I don't mean you in particular." Later, a dealer complained to the floorman about her at one point, and so the floorman told Spomenka that "it's not nice to say those things." Actually, she did settle down quite a bit after that.
Now begins my Tuesday-Wednesday weekend.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
New Schedule
I went to the Bike on Monday for my first day as a prop, and they switched up the schedule on me. I'll be working 1-9 pm Thursday-Monday, which I actually like quite a bit better than 3-11 pm. I figure I can get lunch when I first get there, and then dinner before I go (meals are free). On Monday I played 20-40 limit from 2-9 pm. I lost more in the game than I made in salary, but I found it relatively easy to sit and play that long. I didn't get tired until about 8. However, by the time I left at 9 I was rather tired, and in my diminished mental state I forgot to bring home my employee handbook (I did remember to sign out at least). This means I still don't really know what my health benefits and vacation time are like or anything like that. Hopefully, I'll be able to find the employee parking lot tomorrow.
Supposedly there is usually a lot of downtime as a prop player, and I was warned that I should bring a book. I'm not accustomed to bringing things with me to the casino (hence my forgetting my handbook on Monday). Also, I don't understand when this downtime would happen. On Monday I was put in a game almost immediately when I arrived, and unless the game breaks I'm not really sure how I could have any downtime whatsoever. I was a little unsure of whether I was supposed to keep playing after the game filled up, but there were some other props playing the same game at another table, and they didn't leave, so I figured I probably shouldn't either. (Actually, one moved from my table to the other 20-40 limit game, but I have no idea why.) I guess tomorrow I'll need to ask the floorman to clarify the protocol a little more for me.
Supposedly there is usually a lot of downtime as a prop player, and I was warned that I should bring a book. I'm not accustomed to bringing things with me to the casino (hence my forgetting my handbook on Monday). Also, I don't understand when this downtime would happen. On Monday I was put in a game almost immediately when I arrived, and unless the game breaks I'm not really sure how I could have any downtime whatsoever. I was a little unsure of whether I was supposed to keep playing after the game filled up, but there were some other props playing the same game at another table, and they didn't leave, so I figured I probably shouldn't either. (Actually, one moved from my table to the other 20-40 limit game, but I have no idea why.) I guess tomorrow I'll need to ask the floorman to clarify the protocol a little more for me.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Back to Work
I'm starting my new job on Monday. Meanwhile, I've read the entire High-Low Split Stud book by Ray Zee already (it's rather short) and am nearly through Todd Brunson's chapter in Super System 2 (also short). Hopefully I'll be competent at this game when I dive in at 20-40. I don't actually have much of an idea of how much I'll be asked to play it, though. Maybe I should brush up on my limit holdem, as well. The $200 no-limit game, on the other hand, will be old hat for me. That's what I used to play about 80% of the time back in Vegas.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Prop Job Soon
I seem to be close to getting the job as a 20-40 prop player at the Bike. On Tuesday, I'm scheduled for a physical (not sure why they need this), and I assume I'll be starting soon after that. I'd be working Friday-Tuesday, 3pm-11pm. Including the commute it will probably be more like 1:45-11:45, so the job will consume about 50 hours a week. This is quite a bit more than I've been playing up until now, and I'm not very optimistic about how much I'm going to like giving up some of my free time. For the past few months I've been getting rather tired after playing for about 6 hours, and it's usually not worth sticking around when fatigue sets in except in the increasingly rare event that the game is extremely soft. I've been playing poker on my own schedule for two and a half years now, and I've become accustomed to having plenty of time during the week for everything I want to do. On the other hand, I've also spent more time at unproductive activities such as watching TV than I would have liked, and I know from experience that when my time is more structured I tend to get more done. Fortunately, as far as making the decision whether to take the prop job, it's not necessary for me to know ahead of time whether I'll like being a prop: if I don't, I can always quit and immediately return to my old job with no difficulty whatsoever.
Meanwhile, I need to learn to play stud eight-or-better without losing all my money. My brother got me Ray Zee's book High-Low-Split Poker for Advanced Players, which also covers Omaha. It actually seems like it would be nearly useless for an advanced player at these games, but for me it's been quite helpful. It gives an idea of what starting hands are worthwhile and what to expect from other players. I read Sklansky's section in the original Super System, but that is so outdated that the rules have changed too significantly since it was written for it to be useful (most significantly, there was no requirement of an 8-qualifier for the low). Supposedly, Todd Brunson wrote a chapter on stud-8 in Super System 2 that is much more worthwhile. I think I may go ahead and order that one. Phil Hellmuth has the only other published stud-8 advice that I could find, but I would never purchase anything published by him unless it were the absolute best source on a particular game. Even then, I would probably just avoid playing that game.
Meanwhile, I need to learn to play stud eight-or-better without losing all my money. My brother got me Ray Zee's book High-Low-Split Poker for Advanced Players, which also covers Omaha. It actually seems like it would be nearly useless for an advanced player at these games, but for me it's been quite helpful. It gives an idea of what starting hands are worthwhile and what to expect from other players. I read Sklansky's section in the original Super System, but that is so outdated that the rules have changed too significantly since it was written for it to be useful (most significantly, there was no requirement of an 8-qualifier for the low). Supposedly, Todd Brunson wrote a chapter on stud-8 in Super System 2 that is much more worthwhile. I think I may go ahead and order that one. Phil Hellmuth has the only other published stud-8 advice that I could find, but I would never purchase anything published by him unless it were the absolute best source on a particular game. Even then, I would probably just avoid playing that game.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Prop Player Application
I've officially applied to be a "20-40 open prop player" at the Bicycle Casino, 25 minutes from my apartment when there's not much traffic. I would have to play 20-40 limit holdem or hi-lo stud eight-or-better, or $200 buy-in NL, depending on what the floorperson needs me for at any given time. My impression is that a lot of the time I would get to play whatever I want if I'm not needed. The two guys I talked to about the job (one current prop player and a supervisor) were very friendly, I'd get paid pretty well (probably about what my win rate is at the $500 game, thus doubling my income if I can maintain that win rate at these other games), and I think I'd even get health benefits and whatnot. On the other hand, it's a pretty long haul through LA traffic and I'm not accustomed to having to play a full 8 hours every day. Mostly I'll miss being able to set my own schedule, although there's also certainly something to be said for having some structure. I should know if I've got the job in two weeks, and I would possibly start in early January.
I'm also applying for grad school, and I'd start in fall '08 if I get in. Statistics.
I'm also applying for grad school, and I'd start in fall '08 if I get in. Statistics.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
More Bluff Calling
When in need of something to write about, describing big calls of bluffs usually serve pretty well, and it's fun for me to recount them. So, here's a couple good ones from the past month:
I was in the big blind with 73o in a 5-10 NL game at Hollywood Park with no maximum buyin. I was in seat 6 and had a little over $400. There were two limpers, so I got to see a flop, which came T43 with two diamonds. Everyone checked to Fernando, a regular in this game who I'm reasonably familiar with. He bet $45. This looked suspiciously like a bluff, and I called with my pair of 3's. On the turn, an 8 came (not a diamond), and I bet out $100, trying to end the hand here. Fernando called immediately. The fact that he didn't stop to think even for a couple seconds made me pretty sure he was on a draw, probably diamond but maybe a straight draw like J9 or even QJ. The other possibility is that he had a little pair like 66 and called hoping I was on a draw, but even this type of hand would probably have to think, and might have raised before the flop. The fact that he didn't even consider raising here on the turn suggested to me he didn't have a ten. If he had a ten, he would have to consider raising because it is most likely the best hand at this point, but is very vulnerable to getting outdrawn on the river. Also, stronger hands such as a set or two pair would fear a flush or straight draw and would probably raise as well.
The river was a 2, not a diamond. At this point the pot was about $315. Fernando pushed all-in, and I had $375 left. Unless he was holding 22, A5, or 56, there is no way the river could have helped him. Since these hands are very unlikely here, and he didn't need to consider a raise on the turn, his attempt to represent a big hand on the river wasn't very convincing. I called. He turned over J6d, and my 73 took the $1000 pot.
This next one was a bit more nerve-wracking for me. I was playing in the same game (seat 6 again, actually) on a different day. A 75 year old white guy who I'd never played against before was in seat 2, and he had been playing very recklessly, with lots of bluffs and calls with weak hands. Still, he seemed to have some idea what he's doing, making decent reads. He just liked action too much.
I was the big blind again, and the old guy was in late position. I had about $1500, and he had me covered. After a limper or two, he raised to $50. With AKo, I reraised him to $170, and he was the only caller. I thought he probably had AQ, AJ, KQ, or a little pair. Maybe a suited connector. Really though, he could have almost anything.
Flop(~$350): 369. There's no way I'm going to get him to fold a pocket pair, so there's not much reason for me to bet here. I check. He bets $175. At this point in the hand, he's going to bet no matter what he's holding. I'm hoping here that he has something like AQ or KQ and is just hoping I'll fold. With this guy, even J2 seems possible. If he does have a pair, I still have 6 outs. If he has AQ or KQ, I stand to win a big pot if we both pair on the turn (of course, there are only 2 cards that would accomplish this). I call.
Turn(~$700): 7. I check again. He bets $275, which is less than half the pot. I have the feeling that he senses weakness in my checks, and probably puts me on AK, which is indeed what I hold. He probably figures I'll fold if he bets anything, but that I'll call or raise if I have a big pair. Betting small here buys him a nice pot if I fold, and allows him to get out cheaply if I raise. If he has a big hand I think he would make a bigger bet here, hoping I have an overpair. Anyway, I just call.
River(~$1250): 3. I check again. He bets $500. At this point it seems likely he actually has something, probably pocket 6's, 7's or 9's, and I misread his small bet on the turn. Still, with a little pair on the board (33), he can no longer confidently bet a two-pair hand like 67, because if I do have an overpair, he'll lose. Although I thought there was at least a 60% chance he had me beat here (with either a set or an overpair, maybe even the 3), his $500 bet was still small for this pot. I was being offered 3.5-1 odds, so if I had at least a 23% chance to win, then calling was the right play. I thought my chances were around 30%. I reluctantly put in $500, expecting my winning session to become a losing one. However, the old guy turned over AQ. I showed my winning AK and was sent the $2250 pot. Some of the other players muttered that they would have to remember not to try to bluff me.
In other news, I have a lead that could result in an offer of a job as a prop player at the Bicycle casino. In other words, I might get paid to play, thus fitting more solidly into the definition of "professional" poker player. Supposedly the graveyard shift is the one most likely to have an opening, so my sleeping schedule would need to revert back to staying up all night. On the other hand, this would mean I probably wouldn't have to fight through terrible traffic.
I was in the big blind with 73o in a 5-10 NL game at Hollywood Park with no maximum buyin. I was in seat 6 and had a little over $400. There were two limpers, so I got to see a flop, which came T43 with two diamonds. Everyone checked to Fernando, a regular in this game who I'm reasonably familiar with. He bet $45. This looked suspiciously like a bluff, and I called with my pair of 3's. On the turn, an 8 came (not a diamond), and I bet out $100, trying to end the hand here. Fernando called immediately. The fact that he didn't stop to think even for a couple seconds made me pretty sure he was on a draw, probably diamond but maybe a straight draw like J9 or even QJ. The other possibility is that he had a little pair like 66 and called hoping I was on a draw, but even this type of hand would probably have to think, and might have raised before the flop. The fact that he didn't even consider raising here on the turn suggested to me he didn't have a ten. If he had a ten, he would have to consider raising because it is most likely the best hand at this point, but is very vulnerable to getting outdrawn on the river. Also, stronger hands such as a set or two pair would fear a flush or straight draw and would probably raise as well.
The river was a 2, not a diamond. At this point the pot was about $315. Fernando pushed all-in, and I had $375 left. Unless he was holding 22, A5, or 56, there is no way the river could have helped him. Since these hands are very unlikely here, and he didn't need to consider a raise on the turn, his attempt to represent a big hand on the river wasn't very convincing. I called. He turned over J6d, and my 73 took the $1000 pot.
This next one was a bit more nerve-wracking for me. I was playing in the same game (seat 6 again, actually) on a different day. A 75 year old white guy who I'd never played against before was in seat 2, and he had been playing very recklessly, with lots of bluffs and calls with weak hands. Still, he seemed to have some idea what he's doing, making decent reads. He just liked action too much.
I was the big blind again, and the old guy was in late position. I had about $1500, and he had me covered. After a limper or two, he raised to $50. With AKo, I reraised him to $170, and he was the only caller. I thought he probably had AQ, AJ, KQ, or a little pair. Maybe a suited connector. Really though, he could have almost anything.
Flop(~$350): 369. There's no way I'm going to get him to fold a pocket pair, so there's not much reason for me to bet here. I check. He bets $175. At this point in the hand, he's going to bet no matter what he's holding. I'm hoping here that he has something like AQ or KQ and is just hoping I'll fold. With this guy, even J2 seems possible. If he does have a pair, I still have 6 outs. If he has AQ or KQ, I stand to win a big pot if we both pair on the turn (of course, there are only 2 cards that would accomplish this). I call.
Turn(~$700): 7. I check again. He bets $275, which is less than half the pot. I have the feeling that he senses weakness in my checks, and probably puts me on AK, which is indeed what I hold. He probably figures I'll fold if he bets anything, but that I'll call or raise if I have a big pair. Betting small here buys him a nice pot if I fold, and allows him to get out cheaply if I raise. If he has a big hand I think he would make a bigger bet here, hoping I have an overpair. Anyway, I just call.
River(~$1250): 3. I check again. He bets $500. At this point it seems likely he actually has something, probably pocket 6's, 7's or 9's, and I misread his small bet on the turn. Still, with a little pair on the board (33), he can no longer confidently bet a two-pair hand like 67, because if I do have an overpair, he'll lose. Although I thought there was at least a 60% chance he had me beat here (with either a set or an overpair, maybe even the 3), his $500 bet was still small for this pot. I was being offered 3.5-1 odds, so if I had at least a 23% chance to win, then calling was the right play. I thought my chances were around 30%. I reluctantly put in $500, expecting my winning session to become a losing one. However, the old guy turned over AQ. I showed my winning AK and was sent the $2250 pot. Some of the other players muttered that they would have to remember not to try to bluff me.
In other news, I have a lead that could result in an offer of a job as a prop player at the Bicycle casino. In other words, I might get paid to play, thus fitting more solidly into the definition of "professional" poker player. Supposedly the graveyard shift is the one most likely to have an opening, so my sleeping schedule would need to revert back to staying up all night. On the other hand, this would mean I probably wouldn't have to fight through terrible traffic.
Friday, October 12, 2007
"No Free Rides!"
The helmet guy was back today, only this time sans helmet. Even without his signature accessory, he's easily recognizable as the ostentatiously dressed 6'8" jacked bearded black guy with a huge gap between his front teeth, which he frequently displays with his large grin. Today he was wearing a cowboy hat and a brown pin-striped suit-jacket over mesh navy-blue tank-top reminiscent of a gym-class pinney. I'd been playing in the $100 NL game for an hour or so when he joined the table. According to a woman at our table, he is a well-known reggae singer, but I have no idea who he was. He did have the awesome Jamaican accent and a couple friends who would stop by who appeared much more stereotypically Rastafarian, with dreadlocks and whatnot.
Occasionally, a player will try to get a slow game going by raising indiscriminately for several hands, essentially daring his opponents to play with him. Usually this goes along with frequent comments meant to annoy his opponents, to goad them into playing looser, or just to gain attention. I think the reggae guy may have been parodying this sort of player; he incorporated all the normal characteristics of the goading player, but in a humorous and seemingly self-aware sort of way. On the other hand, maybe he's just good-naturedly insane. In any case, for about 45 minutes he raised 95% of the hands to $10 preflop (from $3), saying "no free rides!" every time, without fail. Well, he did occasionally fail to raise because he made string-bets, but he never forgot to say "no free rides!" Unfortunately for me, the guy to my left liked to occasionally reraise allin for another $300 or so, each time winning the $30 or so that was in the pot. The majority of the time, though, this didn't happen, and we'd get to see a flop with a pot of around $50.
Often a stereotypical attention-seeking player will call out for something just before the flop, turn, or river is put out. For example "2!" or "diamond!" The formerly behelmeted reggae singer, though, took this to new heights, hurriedly spouting off "No high, no low, no middle, no straight, no flush!" before each flop. Then, regardless of the cards on the flop, "Perfect!" If he decided to check on the flop, he'd declare, "okay, free ride."
At one point I beat him and another player in a hand where I caught a flush on the river. The pot ended up around $300. Lots of players get upset if they lose on the river, but this guy stood up in his seat, reached across the table to me and, smiling, said "gimme five!" in his Jamaican accent. I obliged. Despite his maniacal behavior, he still managed to be a much better sport than my average opponent.
Other guys I've played with or seen playing at the casino recently: Norman Chad, this guy, who co-wrote the movie "300," the guy who plays the main character's brother on "Big Love," and an NBA hopeful who supposedly played for NC State, was at one point signed by the Clippers (not sure if he played), and thinks Atlanta is going to sign him soon. I can't remember this guy's name either, and I couldn't figure it out doing some google research. Some more info for anyone who may want to try to figure it out: he's under 6'5" and had a horrible motorcycle accident in which he suffered an open fracture of his leg. Obviously, if he were anyone notable I would have been able to identify him already.
Occasionally, a player will try to get a slow game going by raising indiscriminately for several hands, essentially daring his opponents to play with him. Usually this goes along with frequent comments meant to annoy his opponents, to goad them into playing looser, or just to gain attention. I think the reggae guy may have been parodying this sort of player; he incorporated all the normal characteristics of the goading player, but in a humorous and seemingly self-aware sort of way. On the other hand, maybe he's just good-naturedly insane. In any case, for about 45 minutes he raised 95% of the hands to $10 preflop (from $3), saying "no free rides!" every time, without fail. Well, he did occasionally fail to raise because he made string-bets, but he never forgot to say "no free rides!" Unfortunately for me, the guy to my left liked to occasionally reraise allin for another $300 or so, each time winning the $30 or so that was in the pot. The majority of the time, though, this didn't happen, and we'd get to see a flop with a pot of around $50.
Often a stereotypical attention-seeking player will call out for something just before the flop, turn, or river is put out. For example "2!" or "diamond!" The formerly behelmeted reggae singer, though, took this to new heights, hurriedly spouting off "No high, no low, no middle, no straight, no flush!" before each flop. Then, regardless of the cards on the flop, "Perfect!" If he decided to check on the flop, he'd declare, "okay, free ride."
At one point I beat him and another player in a hand where I caught a flush on the river. The pot ended up around $300. Lots of players get upset if they lose on the river, but this guy stood up in his seat, reached across the table to me and, smiling, said "gimme five!" in his Jamaican accent. I obliged. Despite his maniacal behavior, he still managed to be a much better sport than my average opponent.
Other guys I've played with or seen playing at the casino recently: Norman Chad, this guy, who co-wrote the movie "300," the guy who plays the main character's brother on "Big Love," and an NBA hopeful who supposedly played for NC State, was at one point signed by the Clippers (not sure if he played), and thinks Atlanta is going to sign him soon. I can't remember this guy's name either, and I couldn't figure it out doing some google research. Some more info for anyone who may want to try to figure it out: he's under 6'5" and had a horrible motorcycle accident in which he suffered an open fracture of his leg. Obviously, if he were anyone notable I would have been able to identify him already.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Shady Characters Outside Hollywood Park
Last week, I was talking to my brother on my cell phone just outside one of the entrances to the poker room at Hollywood Park. A man approached me and showed me a watch. This seemed not just strange but rather rude since I was clearly on the phone so I just turned away from him and tried to continue my conversation. The guy approached me with his watch again and said something I didn't hear. I figured maybe he was trying to ask me for the time so that he could set his watch, so I told my brother to hold on a second as I checked my phone's screens. It didn't have the time. I told the man with the watch the bad news and went back to my conversation, assuming he'd move on to someone else. Instead he continued talking to me. I told my brother to hold on again.
"What?" I snapped, now agitated.
"Do you want to buy this watch?"
"No! I'm on the phone," I said, assuming he would realize I meant "go away."
"It's $12,000, you can have it for $500," he persisted.
"I don't want it."
"$400." At this point I just shook my head and walked away. This time he finally let me be.
An hour or so later I saw the guy again, this time sitting at a slot machine or something. He waved at me with two fingers up. "Two hundred?" I shook my head and continued on.
Later, as I made my way to the parking lot when I was done playing, a shabby looking man approached me.
"Hey, how are you?" he asked. I'd been solicited for money outside the entrance before, but this guy was half way to the parking lot, with nobody else within earshot.
"I'm okay..." I responded suspiciously. Then he made his pitch. He is NOT a bum, he tells me. He never asks people for money, and he's embarrassed to have to ask me. However, he was there with his wife and child, but something (I don't remember the story he gave me) had happened and now he needed money for a cab. "Could you spare me $37? I'm not a bum, I'll pay you back."
"No, sorry."
"$20 maybe? Just to get me on my way?"
I think this is a fairly standard tactic: come up with a compelling story of emergent need of some quick cash of some specific amount.
"I'd rather not get involved. They could probably help you at the desk inside."
"You don't have to get involved... there's nothing to get involved in. I just need to get a cab."
This went on for another 20 seconds or so, then I just said "sorry" again and started walking to my car. He followed me. Again he assured me he was not a bum and would pay me back. I turned him down again and continued to the parking lot. He still followed. My car happened to be in the very first row, and there I was, standing right next to it with this guy still hassling me. I had about $3500 in my pocket. I decided not to get in the car with him right there; in fact, I didn't even indicate it was my car. After one more failed attempt to get rid of him, I turned and walked back to the casino. When I came back a couple minutes later, the guy was nowhere to be found.
When I was heading back to the parking lot the second time, I was approached AGAIN by yet another shady guy. He wanted my advice on whether he owed somebody money. This was a new one: I wasn't sure how he was going to turn this into a plea for me to give him money. He had supposedly been playing blackjack, and somebody had given him $4 and asked him to bet it for him. He won the hand. Does he now owe the guy $8 or only $4? To his chagrin, I informed him that it sounded like he owed $8. To my surprise, he left without asking me for money.
Do I really look so much like a sucker that con artists (if you can call them that) will persist in trying to get me to give them money even after I've pointedly turned them down? Wouldn't it be more worth their time to move on to one of the dozens of other people in the areas outside the casino? Well, the situation was rather anomalous, so I guess there's no real reason to think there's something about me that caused it.
Oh, and the Helmet Man has been hanging around again, too.
"What?" I snapped, now agitated.
"Do you want to buy this watch?"
"No! I'm on the phone," I said, assuming he would realize I meant "go away."
"It's $12,000, you can have it for $500," he persisted.
"I don't want it."
"$400." At this point I just shook my head and walked away. This time he finally let me be.
An hour or so later I saw the guy again, this time sitting at a slot machine or something. He waved at me with two fingers up. "Two hundred?" I shook my head and continued on.
Later, as I made my way to the parking lot when I was done playing, a shabby looking man approached me.
"Hey, how are you?" he asked. I'd been solicited for money outside the entrance before, but this guy was half way to the parking lot, with nobody else within earshot.
"I'm okay..." I responded suspiciously. Then he made his pitch. He is NOT a bum, he tells me. He never asks people for money, and he's embarrassed to have to ask me. However, he was there with his wife and child, but something (I don't remember the story he gave me) had happened and now he needed money for a cab. "Could you spare me $37? I'm not a bum, I'll pay you back."
"No, sorry."
"$20 maybe? Just to get me on my way?"
I think this is a fairly standard tactic: come up with a compelling story of emergent need of some quick cash of some specific amount.
"I'd rather not get involved. They could probably help you at the desk inside."
"You don't have to get involved... there's nothing to get involved in. I just need to get a cab."
This went on for another 20 seconds or so, then I just said "sorry" again and started walking to my car. He followed me. Again he assured me he was not a bum and would pay me back. I turned him down again and continued to the parking lot. He still followed. My car happened to be in the very first row, and there I was, standing right next to it with this guy still hassling me. I had about $3500 in my pocket. I decided not to get in the car with him right there; in fact, I didn't even indicate it was my car. After one more failed attempt to get rid of him, I turned and walked back to the casino. When I came back a couple minutes later, the guy was nowhere to be found.
When I was heading back to the parking lot the second time, I was approached AGAIN by yet another shady guy. He wanted my advice on whether he owed somebody money. This was a new one: I wasn't sure how he was going to turn this into a plea for me to give him money. He had supposedly been playing blackjack, and somebody had given him $4 and asked him to bet it for him. He won the hand. Does he now owe the guy $8 or only $4? To his chagrin, I informed him that it sounded like he owed $8. To my surprise, he left without asking me for money.
Do I really look so much like a sucker that con artists (if you can call them that) will persist in trying to get me to give them money even after I've pointedly turned them down? Wouldn't it be more worth their time to move on to one of the dozens of other people in the areas outside the casino? Well, the situation was rather anomalous, so I guess there's no real reason to think there's something about me that caused it.
Oh, and the Helmet Man has been hanging around again, too.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Tournament "Insurance"
I'm worried about the integrity of poker. A couple weeks ago I turned on ESPN2 and saw Phil Hellmuth get put all-in pre-flop at the final table of some WSOP event. Once the two hands were revealed, Hellmuth went over to the sidelines and, on camera, made a deal with a spectator (Phil Ivey) for "insurance": if Hellmuth won, he'd pay his "insurer" some amount, and if he lost, his "insurer" would pay Hellmuth some amount to cushion the loss. For reasons that I can only assume involve TV ratings, the dealer and other players waited for Hellmuth while he negotiated the deal. When finally he came back and the cards were dealt out, he won the hand. The next time he was all in, the dealer, players, and viewers were all subjected to this display again. I stopped watching, but I think it may have happened a few more times.
One of the most compelling aspects of poker is that players can occasionally force their opponents to make decisions for more money than they are really comfortable losing. I think this aspect of poker is especially important when you consider poker's value as a spectator sport: these high-risk situations create pretty intense drama. Why, then were ESPN and the WSOP willing to allow Phil Hellmuth to sap the drama out of these situations by stopping the game while he negotiated "insurance" for himself? I'm not really sure, but I assume it's because Hellmuth is one of their most recognizable star players, and this was an opportunity to show him doing something other than whining or deriding other players. Unfortunately, in addition to losing entertainment value, allowing players to insure themselves in the midst of individual hands also interferes with the integrity and fairness of the game.
A standard strategy used by players with big stacks in tournaments is to try to push around their more vulnerable short-stacked opponents by forcing them all-in and making them risk elimination if they decide to call. Allowing players to insure themselves against being knocked out greatly diminishes the effectiveness of this strategy. I'm assuming that the WSOP doesn't allow ALL players to stop play and negotiate insurance packages whenever they are put all-in, since this is clearly infeasible due to time constraints. (Not to mention the fact that this would encourage an odd black-market insurance industry where financiers would jockey for position on the sidelines of major tournaments!). By allowing some players to insure themselves and not others, the WSOP is making their tournaments blatantly unfair.
Poker tournaments like the WSOP and the WPT have had plenty of scandals already. For example it has been exposed recently that there have been instances of collusion in tournaments (a problem that is especially rampant online). Another example is the better known situation where the WSOP invited Doyle Brunson, Johnny Chan, and Phil Hellmuth to join the WSOP Tournament of Champions, thus diluting the pool for all the players who had earned their spots in the tournament. The difference in this situation with the insurance is that it was entirely condoned by the WSOP, ESPN and the commentators. The one hit I could find on google discussing the event also seems to condone it. Previous infractions were either fixed or at least swept under the rug in shame. The fact that nobody else seems upset about Hellmuth being able to pause the game to get an insurance deal and that the WSOP and ESPN producers don't seem to consider it necessary to hide such behavior is what really worries me. I hate to see poker losing it's distinction as being a truly equal-opportunity endeavor.
One of the most compelling aspects of poker is that players can occasionally force their opponents to make decisions for more money than they are really comfortable losing. I think this aspect of poker is especially important when you consider poker's value as a spectator sport: these high-risk situations create pretty intense drama. Why, then were ESPN and the WSOP willing to allow Phil Hellmuth to sap the drama out of these situations by stopping the game while he negotiated "insurance" for himself? I'm not really sure, but I assume it's because Hellmuth is one of their most recognizable star players, and this was an opportunity to show him doing something other than whining or deriding other players. Unfortunately, in addition to losing entertainment value, allowing players to insure themselves in the midst of individual hands also interferes with the integrity and fairness of the game.
A standard strategy used by players with big stacks in tournaments is to try to push around their more vulnerable short-stacked opponents by forcing them all-in and making them risk elimination if they decide to call. Allowing players to insure themselves against being knocked out greatly diminishes the effectiveness of this strategy. I'm assuming that the WSOP doesn't allow ALL players to stop play and negotiate insurance packages whenever they are put all-in, since this is clearly infeasible due to time constraints. (Not to mention the fact that this would encourage an odd black-market insurance industry where financiers would jockey for position on the sidelines of major tournaments!). By allowing some players to insure themselves and not others, the WSOP is making their tournaments blatantly unfair.
Poker tournaments like the WSOP and the WPT have had plenty of scandals already. For example it has been exposed recently that there have been instances of collusion in tournaments (a problem that is especially rampant online). Another example is the better known situation where the WSOP invited Doyle Brunson, Johnny Chan, and Phil Hellmuth to join the WSOP Tournament of Champions, thus diluting the pool for all the players who had earned their spots in the tournament. The difference in this situation with the insurance is that it was entirely condoned by the WSOP, ESPN and the commentators. The one hit I could find on google discussing the event also seems to condone it. Previous infractions were either fixed or at least swept under the rug in shame. The fact that nobody else seems upset about Hellmuth being able to pause the game to get an insurance deal and that the WSOP and ESPN producers don't seem to consider it necessary to hide such behavior is what really worries me. I hate to see poker losing it's distinction as being a truly equal-opportunity endeavor.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
LA to Vegas to LA to Philly to Boston to Cleveland, back to LA
Having just returned from another trip east, I haven't had the opportunity to blog or play much poker recently. Two weeks ago I was in Vegas for a bachelor party, and I managed to find some time for some poker. I didn't play much, but from what I saw the game has gotten tougher in Vegas since last year. At the Bellagio, I sat down at their 5-10 NL game and immediately recognized two pros to my left, one of whom I remember as being among the best players I can remember playing against (I don't know his name, just remember him making lots of good decisions and no bad ones). When a new 2-5 NL game started, I got up and moved over there. Several of my fellow bachelor-party-goers also joined this game (I think Ben, Joe, Andrew, and Aaron were all there), but since this was "must move" table, we were soon dispersed to other 2-5 games. My table had a few drinkers, one of whom was pretty bad. Other than the the table was rather tough. This was a Saturday afternoon, so although I didn't expect the games to be very wild, I thought there may be more inexperienced tourists there. The Bellagio used to be teeming with them on the weekends, but it seems the pool has dried up a bit. I think Andrew was the only one to come out ahead.
Incidentally, James Woods sat at the 5-10 table shortly after I left it. He was accompanied by a woman who I suspect was his girlfriend, but, by the look of her, she could just as easily have been a professional escort. In any case, Woods seemed to find it satisfying to show her off to the other poker players.
Speaking of celebrities playing poker, supposedly Jose Canseco comes to Hollywood Park rather frequently and plays in their daily tournaments; I haven't noticed him. (How do they know it wasn't Ozzie?)
Incidentally, James Woods sat at the 5-10 table shortly after I left it. He was accompanied by a woman who I suspect was his girlfriend, but, by the look of her, she could just as easily have been a professional escort. In any case, Woods seemed to find it satisfying to show her off to the other poker players.
Speaking of celebrities playing poker, supposedly Jose Canseco comes to Hollywood Park rather frequently and plays in their daily tournaments; I haven't noticed him. (How do they know it wasn't Ozzie?)
Thursday, August 16, 2007
My New Single-Pot Record
A few days ago, I won what I'm pretty sure was my biggest pot ever: $6100, dealt by "La Guardia". It wasn't a particularly exciting hand strategically, but this is how it happened:
I was at the 5-10NL, no max buy in game at Hollywood Park. The table had almost broken, and we were down to just 4 players. I had managed to build my stack up to $3050 from $500, and the other players all had at least $2500. The game was a little loose and aggressive, even more than is expected in a short-handed game. I'd been getting some good hands so I think my image was rather aggressive as well.
In my $6100 pot, I had AcAd in the small blind, and the under the gun player straddled for $20. So, three of the four players put in money blind. The button limped, and I limped also. I think people assume AA will always raise out of the blinds, and that's basically true at a full table with no straddle. In this hand, though, I had two players behind me (instead of the normal 0 or 1 when you are in the blinds) because of the straddle, and both of those players had been aggressive so far. I figured there was a good chance one of them would raise, especially considering the pot was already up to $70 and nobody had shown any strength yet.
The big blind called $10 more, and the straddle raised to $120. The button folded. I raised to $350. Usually I like to raise a bit extra from early position pre-flop because I'm happy to end the hand right away by making everyone fold. This raise of $230 more was not actually very big. My limp-raise move is pretty strong, and I was trying to entice the raiser to call with a weaker hand than usual.
The big blind folded this time around, and after just a few seconds, the original raiser re-raised me to $750. This was a raise of only $400 and there was already $700 in the pot, so it seemed to me like he was trying to keep me in the pot. So he probably had a strong hand after all. I counted down my chips: $2695, and my opponent had that covered. After some deliberation, I decided to push all-in. In another minute or two I had been called.
Flop: Jd9d6d. I checked my had to make sure I remember correctly that I had the Ad, and I did. So I figured this was an excellent flop for me, since my opponent most likely had KK or QQ, and I turned my hand over to show. Then my opponent started saying "don't kill my hand, don't kill my hand" to the dealer. I realized he must have JJ. The turn was 4c. When the 2d hit the river giving me the nut flush, my opponent slammed his hand down on the table, somehow managing to send one of them flying 20 feet in the other direction. The card that remained was a jack, of course.
Half an hour earlier I had gotten aggressive with JJ preflop in order to get heads-up against a short stack of $250. That pot was already up to $1000 and I wanted to get the other two players out because I was out of position. Anyway, I think people noticed this and may have concluded I was a reckless player (including the player in the hand I just described). That played into my decision to push all in with myAA.
I was at the 5-10NL, no max buy in game at Hollywood Park. The table had almost broken, and we were down to just 4 players. I had managed to build my stack up to $3050 from $500, and the other players all had at least $2500. The game was a little loose and aggressive, even more than is expected in a short-handed game. I'd been getting some good hands so I think my image was rather aggressive as well.
In my $6100 pot, I had AcAd in the small blind, and the under the gun player straddled for $20. So, three of the four players put in money blind. The button limped, and I limped also. I think people assume AA will always raise out of the blinds, and that's basically true at a full table with no straddle. In this hand, though, I had two players behind me (instead of the normal 0 or 1 when you are in the blinds) because of the straddle, and both of those players had been aggressive so far. I figured there was a good chance one of them would raise, especially considering the pot was already up to $70 and nobody had shown any strength yet.
The big blind called $10 more, and the straddle raised to $120. The button folded. I raised to $350. Usually I like to raise a bit extra from early position pre-flop because I'm happy to end the hand right away by making everyone fold. This raise of $230 more was not actually very big. My limp-raise move is pretty strong, and I was trying to entice the raiser to call with a weaker hand than usual.
The big blind folded this time around, and after just a few seconds, the original raiser re-raised me to $750. This was a raise of only $400 and there was already $700 in the pot, so it seemed to me like he was trying to keep me in the pot. So he probably had a strong hand after all. I counted down my chips: $2695, and my opponent had that covered. After some deliberation, I decided to push all-in. In another minute or two I had been called.
Flop: Jd9d6d. I checked my had to make sure I remember correctly that I had the Ad, and I did. So I figured this was an excellent flop for me, since my opponent most likely had KK or QQ, and I turned my hand over to show. Then my opponent started saying "don't kill my hand, don't kill my hand" to the dealer. I realized he must have JJ. The turn was 4c. When the 2d hit the river giving me the nut flush, my opponent slammed his hand down on the table, somehow managing to send one of them flying 20 feet in the other direction. The card that remained was a jack, of course.
Half an hour earlier I had gotten aggressive with JJ preflop in order to get heads-up against a short stack of $250. That pot was already up to $1000 and I wanted to get the other two players out because I was out of position. Anyway, I think people noticed this and may have concluded I was a reckless player (including the player in the hand I just described). That played into my decision to push all in with myAA.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Vegas Shootings
Sad to say, Vegas casinos were not such a safe place to be this past month.
Casinos on the strip have no visible security but millions of dollars in chips floating around. I still don't quite understand that. I guess it's just understood that it would be prohibitively risky to actually get away with trying to rob them. It's hard to imagine there being an actual gunfight there. The worst I ever encountered was a fistfight that didn't seem to draw any blood.
The first time I went to the Commerce Casino, the people at my table were chatting about a gunfight that happened the day before in the parking lot. Supposedly the police killed a potential thief. One of the guys at my table claimed to have bullet holes in his car. That was the closest I've come to actually witnessing one of these shootings. Of course, this one was in Los Angeles, not Vegas.
Casinos on the strip have no visible security but millions of dollars in chips floating around. I still don't quite understand that. I guess it's just understood that it would be prohibitively risky to actually get away with trying to rob them. It's hard to imagine there being an actual gunfight there. The worst I ever encountered was a fistfight that didn't seem to draw any blood.
The first time I went to the Commerce Casino, the people at my table were chatting about a gunfight that happened the day before in the parking lot. Supposedly the police killed a potential thief. One of the guys at my table claimed to have bullet holes in his car. That was the closest I've come to actually witnessing one of these shootings. Of course, this one was in Los Angeles, not Vegas.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Harry Potter
Embarrassingly, I haven't been to a casino since Harry Potter came out. Poker players are not particularly likely to read it, but they are likely to think it's funny to spoil the ending. I'm gonna have to finish it today so I can get back to work.
Friday, July 13, 2007
"Look Down Here"
I was playing the $500 NL game at Hollywood Park when a semi-regular player took the seat to my right. About seventy-five years old and five foot one inch tall, he's a cantankerous eastern European who has caused a few heated disputes in my previous sessions at his table. As is the case with a surprising number of poker players, his deficiencies in English don't dissuade him at all from taunting and complaining about the other players.
Anyway, this ornery old man sat down next to me with a stack of mostly $1 and $5 chips. To me it looked like he might have had less than $500 there. I wouldn't really care except that the rules require players to buy-in for at least $500 in this game, and I didn't want there to be an issue later on. His left arm was blocking my view of his stack, so I asked him, "do you have 500 there?"
He looked at me rather disgustedly but said nothing. "How many chips have you got there?" I asked. Pushing back in his chair, he turned to me and yelled"Count!" pointing at his chips. I counted them and there was exactly $500 in chips. "Looks like 500," I said.
"Look down here," he snarled at me. At his waist, out of sight of the dealer, he was giving me the finger. I laughed and just said, "Okay, thanks. That's wonderful." About an hour later he was kicked off the table after a confrontation with another player.
Anyway, this ornery old man sat down next to me with a stack of mostly $1 and $5 chips. To me it looked like he might have had less than $500 there. I wouldn't really care except that the rules require players to buy-in for at least $500 in this game, and I didn't want there to be an issue later on. His left arm was blocking my view of his stack, so I asked him, "do you have 500 there?"
He looked at me rather disgustedly but said nothing. "How many chips have you got there?" I asked. Pushing back in his chair, he turned to me and yelled"Count!" pointing at his chips. I counted them and there was exactly $500 in chips. "Looks like 500," I said.
"Look down here," he snarled at me. At his waist, out of sight of the dealer, he was giving me the finger. I laughed and just said, "Okay, thanks. That's wonderful." About an hour later he was kicked off the table after a confrontation with another player.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
The Psychology of Poker
Despite assuming a knowledge of basic poker strategy, Alan N. Schoonmaker's book The Psychology of Poker is based on the odd premise that the reader is not a good player. More specifically, it assumes that while the reader may be able to make himself into a decent player, he will never be able to develop the instincts or intuitions of the top pros. Dr. Schoonmaker feels that this has created a disconnect between the advice given in the existing poker literature and the advice that would actually help the readers. He provides a few examples of advice that is rather useless because of this problem, including the part in Doyle Brunson's Super/System where he explains that you should "stick to your first impression" because "... I get a feeling that he's bluffing or that I can make a play here and get the pot. But, actually my subconscious mind is reasoning it all out." While I'm not as pessimistic as Schoonmaker in assuming that such abilities cannot be developed, I will concede that having such "advice" in a book is not likely to help anyone improve.
The reason Schoonmaker begins his book with this analysis of existing poker literature is to explain the ommission of the aspect of poker psychology that the book does NOT address. Unfortunately, this omission constitutes what is by far the most interesting aspect of the psychology of poker. The ability to divine an opponent's thoughts and motivations in order to read his cards is precisely what is meant when people refer to poker psychology. In light of that, I suppose it was necessary for Schoonmaker to provide his disclaimer at the start of the book. However, it would have been appreciated if he went one step further and changed the book's title to something less misleading. Something like "Becoming an Introspective Poker Player and Sizing up Your Competition," would be more appropriate. Of course, not many people would bother buying that book, though.
Having confessed the true intent of The Psychology of Poker, Schoonmaker describes the actual focus of his book: helping the reader to improve his style, choose appropriate games, and adjust to different players and games. Schoonmaker's main goal is to encourage his readers to honestly evaluate their own motivations in playing poker and to help them identify what exactly is holding them back from becoming better players. In most cases, what holds players back is simply a failure to concentrate and apply the basic strategic rules that most players already know. In encouraging his readers to be brutally honest with themselves about their motivations at the poker table, Schoonmaker exposes some discomforting (but potentially remediable) truths about what attracts us to poker. For example he asks his readers to put numbers indicating what motivates them to play poker. The numbers should add up to 100%. The options are:
Make money;
Socialize, meet people;
Relax;
Get excitement of risk;
Test self against competitive challenges;
Sense of accomplishment from winning;
Pass time;
Other (specify).
Filling out this chart made it uncomfortably obvious that I have sacrificed at least some amount of earning potential for the sake of socializing, relaxing, and testing myself against competitive challenges. For example, I am compromising my win rate whenever I discuss strategy with an opponent (which I do rarely), relax instead of concentrate on my opponents, or play in a game without bothering to ensure that there are no softer games available. In other words, the book has forced me to admit that in order to make poker rather enjoyable, I routinely engage in behaviors that are deleterious to my bottom line. Does this mean I should strive to eliminate all these "leaks"? Probably not, but if I want to be honest with myself I should at least acknowledge that I'm sacrificing some earning potential for some enjoyment.
The bulk of the book is actually about how to play against certain styles of players on the two main spectra: loose-tight and passive-aggressive. Also, it strongly encourages the reader to focus on being a tight-aggressive player himself. This information is accurate, but for someone who has already read a lot of poker books and articles, there's not much new here.
The reason Schoonmaker begins his book with this analysis of existing poker literature is to explain the ommission of the aspect of poker psychology that the book does NOT address. Unfortunately, this omission constitutes what is by far the most interesting aspect of the psychology of poker. The ability to divine an opponent's thoughts and motivations in order to read his cards is precisely what is meant when people refer to poker psychology. In light of that, I suppose it was necessary for Schoonmaker to provide his disclaimer at the start of the book. However, it would have been appreciated if he went one step further and changed the book's title to something less misleading. Something like "Becoming an Introspective Poker Player and Sizing up Your Competition," would be more appropriate. Of course, not many people would bother buying that book, though.
Having confessed the true intent of The Psychology of Poker, Schoonmaker describes the actual focus of his book: helping the reader to improve his style, choose appropriate games, and adjust to different players and games. Schoonmaker's main goal is to encourage his readers to honestly evaluate their own motivations in playing poker and to help them identify what exactly is holding them back from becoming better players. In most cases, what holds players back is simply a failure to concentrate and apply the basic strategic rules that most players already know. In encouraging his readers to be brutally honest with themselves about their motivations at the poker table, Schoonmaker exposes some discomforting (but potentially remediable) truths about what attracts us to poker. For example he asks his readers to put numbers indicating what motivates them to play poker. The numbers should add up to 100%. The options are:
Make money;
Socialize, meet people;
Relax;
Get excitement of risk;
Test self against competitive challenges;
Sense of accomplishment from winning;
Pass time;
Other (specify).
Filling out this chart made it uncomfortably obvious that I have sacrificed at least some amount of earning potential for the sake of socializing, relaxing, and testing myself against competitive challenges. For example, I am compromising my win rate whenever I discuss strategy with an opponent (which I do rarely), relax instead of concentrate on my opponents, or play in a game without bothering to ensure that there are no softer games available. In other words, the book has forced me to admit that in order to make poker rather enjoyable, I routinely engage in behaviors that are deleterious to my bottom line. Does this mean I should strive to eliminate all these "leaks"? Probably not, but if I want to be honest with myself I should at least acknowledge that I'm sacrificing some earning potential for some enjoyment.
The bulk of the book is actually about how to play against certain styles of players on the two main spectra: loose-tight and passive-aggressive. Also, it strongly encourages the reader to focus on being a tight-aggressive player himself. This information is accurate, but for someone who has already read a lot of poker books and articles, there's not much new here.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Poker Honesty Breaking Down
Somehow, the increase in the number of players in casinos who take poker strategy seriously has coincided with a decrease in observance of poker rules and etiquette. In some sense, I suppose this is to be expected - more experienced players are more aware of what rules can be bent without causing complaint. Still, I had imagined that more serious players would be more inclined to promote a culture of playing by the rules. After all, if you have a deep understanding of poker strategy, encouraging fair play would seem to be in your best interest. A couple years ago, I think this theory prevailed, and the regular players would often complain if, for example, an inexperienced player tried giving advice to someone in a hand. Also, experienced players who bent the rules would do so surreptitiously or risk being called out by other players.
Yesterday, just after I sat down to play the 5-10NL game at Hollywood Park, a guy in a suit with whom I had played once or twice before walked over to the table. When he saw me there he smiled broadly and said "Hi!" While I welcome friendly greetings, this was a bit odd because I don't personally remember ever actually talking to him before, and there were several other regular players at the table who he'd surely also seen before. Staring at him for a second and failing to remember why he might be specifically excited to see me, I said "...hi." Thinking the interaction was over, I went back to playing.
A few minutes later the suited guy who had said "hi" to me joined the game and took the seat to my right. He was very interested in the tennis on the TV - evidentally Tim Henman often loses in the semifinals and was on the verge of doing so again. I know only a little about pro tennis, but I engaged him in light conversation. Soon we played the following hand: In early middle position, he raised to $45. I called with AQd, and everyone else folded. I had his $450 stack covered. The flop came Q96 with one diamond. He checked and I bet $60 into the $100 pot. He raised to $120. Obviously this is a bit fishy, but my hand seemed too strong to fold being given 4.7-1 odds. Besides, I had position and maybe I could get a backdoor flush draw and win a big pot. The turn was the Kd. I picked up a flush draw, but I no longer had top pair. My new friend bet $200, leaving him with only about $90 left. As I was trying to figure out what my odds were against different likely hands of his, I heard him mutter something to me out of the side of his mouth.
"What's that?" I asked him.
"Set of nines," he whispered to me again.
In light of the fact that this guy had shown a strong desire to be my friend, I folded a couple seconds later. He flashed his pocket 9's to me (and only me) as he threw his cards back to the dealer. This is a strangely common practice - making a bet with a big hand and then taking pity on your opponent and telling them what you have. Occasionally, a player will even show his big hand to his opponent. Two thing that made this particular instance notable:
1. Such pity is rarely directed towards ME.
2. Usually the player speaks loudly enough for the whole table to hear.
Later, in the middle of a hand he was already out of, my shifty new friend whispered advice to me during hands I was involved in: for instance, "that guy always plays weak aces," or "don't believe what he's saying." At one point he actually kicked me under the table before raising - something people joke about sometimes because it is so clearly unscrupulous (the idea being that we may have agreed that this signals he has a big hand or something - of course, we hadn't actually made such an agreement, and since I acted after his raise, the kicking of me was rather pointless). Perhaps needless to say, he offered to check down any hands where we found ourselves heads-up. I declined in all but one instance.
The striking thing to me about this story is not the bizarrely ingratiating behavior on the suited guy's part, but his implicit assumption that I would be appreciative and complicit in his cheating. I think it says a lot about the current culture in poker rooms - whereas before I think I could assume people would generally play by the rules, I now think I need to assume that my opponents will try to cheat me if they are confident they will get away with it. Then again, I've started to suspect this is the case in my daily life outside of poker as well. So I guess either dishonesty has become a larger cultural trend or I am just starting to become less naive. Also worth considering is the possibility that I'm descending into some sort of psychotic paranoia.
Yesterday, just after I sat down to play the 5-10NL game at Hollywood Park, a guy in a suit with whom I had played once or twice before walked over to the table. When he saw me there he smiled broadly and said "Hi!" While I welcome friendly greetings, this was a bit odd because I don't personally remember ever actually talking to him before, and there were several other regular players at the table who he'd surely also seen before. Staring at him for a second and failing to remember why he might be specifically excited to see me, I said "...hi." Thinking the interaction was over, I went back to playing.
A few minutes later the suited guy who had said "hi" to me joined the game and took the seat to my right. He was very interested in the tennis on the TV - evidentally Tim Henman often loses in the semifinals and was on the verge of doing so again. I know only a little about pro tennis, but I engaged him in light conversation. Soon we played the following hand: In early middle position, he raised to $45. I called with AQd, and everyone else folded. I had his $450 stack covered. The flop came Q96 with one diamond. He checked and I bet $60 into the $100 pot. He raised to $120. Obviously this is a bit fishy, but my hand seemed too strong to fold being given 4.7-1 odds. Besides, I had position and maybe I could get a backdoor flush draw and win a big pot. The turn was the Kd. I picked up a flush draw, but I no longer had top pair. My new friend bet $200, leaving him with only about $90 left. As I was trying to figure out what my odds were against different likely hands of his, I heard him mutter something to me out of the side of his mouth.
"What's that?" I asked him.
"Set of nines," he whispered to me again.
In light of the fact that this guy had shown a strong desire to be my friend, I folded a couple seconds later. He flashed his pocket 9's to me (and only me) as he threw his cards back to the dealer. This is a strangely common practice - making a bet with a big hand and then taking pity on your opponent and telling them what you have. Occasionally, a player will even show his big hand to his opponent. Two thing that made this particular instance notable:
1. Such pity is rarely directed towards ME.
2. Usually the player speaks loudly enough for the whole table to hear.
Later, in the middle of a hand he was already out of, my shifty new friend whispered advice to me during hands I was involved in: for instance, "that guy always plays weak aces," or "don't believe what he's saying." At one point he actually kicked me under the table before raising - something people joke about sometimes because it is so clearly unscrupulous (the idea being that we may have agreed that this signals he has a big hand or something - of course, we hadn't actually made such an agreement, and since I acted after his raise, the kicking of me was rather pointless). Perhaps needless to say, he offered to check down any hands where we found ourselves heads-up. I declined in all but one instance.
The striking thing to me about this story is not the bizarrely ingratiating behavior on the suited guy's part, but his implicit assumption that I would be appreciative and complicit in his cheating. I think it says a lot about the current culture in poker rooms - whereas before I think I could assume people would generally play by the rules, I now think I need to assume that my opponents will try to cheat me if they are confident they will get away with it. Then again, I've started to suspect this is the case in my daily life outside of poker as well. So I guess either dishonesty has become a larger cultural trend or I am just starting to become less naive. Also worth considering is the possibility that I'm descending into some sort of psychotic paranoia.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Vegas Weekend
I took a quick trip to Vegas last weekend, but not quite long enough to actually enter any of the WSOP events. I drove there and back with Aaron, who couldn't get a whole lot of time off of work. Once again, I somehow managed to be surprised by how much better it is to play poker in Vegas. How is this even a contentious issue? From what I've seen, Las Vegas poker is unquestionably superior, but it seems that half of the articles I've read on the subject say that LA poker is just as good or better than Vegas. This is in line with anecdotal evidence I've gathered from other players. I just don't get it. Where are these people playing in LA? Every casino here in LA has a higher rake and also take $1 out for the frivolous "jackpots" that ruins the game whenever two aces flop (on the plus side, I suppose it attracts some simple-minded players who would not otherwise play). Moreover, the casinos are simply not as nice in LA, and the competition has been significantly tougher in my experience. Perhaps most significant is the fact that alcoholic drinks are free in Vegas, but not in LA. Aaron, Joe, and I took advantage of this Saturday night at the palms. I also did well playing the Mirage's SNG tournaments.
I think I'll take another trip to Vegas this month and try to play in one of the WSOP tournaments, against some advice I've read. I'm not sure yet if I'll stay with a friend or stay in a hotel for a few days. I probably still have a lot of comp points at a few of the casinos there.
I think I'll take another trip to Vegas this month and try to play in one of the WSOP tournaments, against some advice I've read. I'm not sure yet if I'll stay with a friend or stay in a hotel for a few days. I probably still have a lot of comp points at a few of the casinos there.
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