- I knew he made that flush on the river; I'm glad I checked my top 2 pair. I could have lost a lot more that hand. Good job saving that bet!
- That certainly was nice of him to show me that set of 3s he turned after I folded to his check-raise. (Maybe I'll just never make another continuation bet with AK.)
- Well the pot was giving me 9-1 on that flush draw, so in the long run I'll profit from situations like that. So technically I just won $22.22 Sklansky bucks. Awesome.
- That was a very spectacular way he sucked out on me, stastically speaking. Randomness is fascinating.
- Hopefully winning every pot they're in against me will keep these fish coming back.
- This song that randomly came on my playlist right as my flopped nut flush loses to a runner-runner full house perfectly captures the feeling of the moment. How delightful!
- This salsa is delicious.
- So he had 87o. My read was right! I knew when he bet out on the turn he couldn't beat my JJ on the 743Q rainbow board. Great turn raise! (Too bad the 8 on the river gave him 2-pair...)
- Well the 2 horrible players just were replaced by tight aggressive players. I guess I'll leave this table in spite being down $434. Good game selection!
- Oh boy, lets see how badly this flop can miss my AK!
- Updating my resume will give me a wonderful opportunity to refresh my Microsoft Word skills.
- That awful river call looked spectacular on this new monitor.
- Sweet, I just remembered that my neighbor is having a birthday party for his kid tomorrow and my clown suit is freshly washed.
Friday, September 30, 2005
I've had 13 positive thoughts while pokering recently:
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Cartesian Pokery 2
To clarify, here is the same graph with my total expenses added. I only update those once a month, hence the step function. I had some residual income in the early months, so those got netted against early expenses. This month is about to end, and it looks like I'll find myself close to break-even. My expenses have been higher than I expected the last few months though, so I expect I can lower that. Also, these giant losses reduce my estimated tax liability, so that should help too.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Temporary setback or the beginning of the end?
Well I'm pretty much in crisis mode now as the huge losses continue. My winrate for at $15/30 has dropped to 0.55BB/100 after about 14,000 hands. Since I felt underbankrolled to begin with, I might have to concede defeat and retreat to lower limits to rebuild my tattered bankroll, not to mention my tattered confidence.
The game that felt so easy a month ago is now a complete mystery to me. Everything that can go wrong has gone wrong: horrendous bad luck (punctuated by losing to runner-runner quads after I flopped top set), horrendous bad judgment, missed flops, missed bets, misreads, missed flushed draws for me, made flush draws for them, folding the winners, calling down with losers, and any other imaginable way to finish a session with a lot fewer chips. I'm doubting my entire approach to everything: what times I play, how long I play, how many tables, what limits, when to stop, when to bet, raise, call or fold. My concentration sucks. My hand reading sucks. My decision-making sucks. My luck sucks.
I'm not particularly distressed about the $5,500 I've lost in the last 3 days. I am distressed at the very real possibility that I'll need to find another income source in the near future. The thought of returning to the workforce is harrowing. I don't know what my plan is, but if I'm going to keep playing poker, I need to drastically improve my game and my results in a hurry.
I'm forced to acknowledge the possibility that I'm just not good enough at poker to last much longer. I have a few ideas about what I want to do to give this a chance to keep working. I need to think some more about that, form a strict plan, and then let the cards fall where they may.
The game that felt so easy a month ago is now a complete mystery to me. Everything that can go wrong has gone wrong: horrendous bad luck (punctuated by losing to runner-runner quads after I flopped top set), horrendous bad judgment, missed flops, missed bets, misreads, missed flushed draws for me, made flush draws for them, folding the winners, calling down with losers, and any other imaginable way to finish a session with a lot fewer chips. I'm doubting my entire approach to everything: what times I play, how long I play, how many tables, what limits, when to stop, when to bet, raise, call or fold. My concentration sucks. My hand reading sucks. My decision-making sucks. My luck sucks.
I'm not particularly distressed about the $5,500 I've lost in the last 3 days. I am distressed at the very real possibility that I'll need to find another income source in the near future. The thought of returning to the workforce is harrowing. I don't know what my plan is, but if I'm going to keep playing poker, I need to drastically improve my game and my results in a hurry.
I'm forced to acknowledge the possibility that I'm just not good enough at poker to last much longer. I have a few ideas about what I want to do to give this a chance to keep working. I need to think some more about that, form a strict plan, and then let the cards fall where they may.
Friday, September 23, 2005
A month of daily results
$1,627.84
($108.86)
($350.00)
$1,381.80
$289.81
$696.00
0 - no play
($1,273.82)
($945.50)
$1,621.50
($2,787.50)
($612.00)
$645.03
$114.70
($248.33)
$29.00
($664.42)
$430.75
$316.32
$1,406.25
$401.60
0 - no play
$818.75
$549.50
$705.45
($1,309.05)
0 - no play
$753.75
$388.08
($91.03)
($1,908.00)
Sum: $1,877.62
That last big loss made me want to look at the big picture. Not a great month.
($108.86)
($350.00)
$1,381.80
$289.81
$696.00
0 - no play
($1,273.82)
($945.50)
$1,621.50
($2,787.50)
($612.00)
$645.03
$114.70
($248.33)
$29.00
($664.42)
$430.75
$316.32
$1,406.25
$401.60
0 - no play
$818.75
$549.50
$705.45
($1,309.05)
0 - no play
$753.75
$388.08
($91.03)
($1,908.00)
Sum: $1,877.62
That last big loss made me want to look at the big picture. Not a great month.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Redemption?
This hand happened about 14 hours after the last hand I wrote about. At the time this hand happened, I had been 3-tabling $15/30 on Party for an hour and was down about $1,800 and extremely frustrated with a $3,000+ downswing in less than 24 hours. After this hand, I somehow I managed to finish the session an hour later with a $7 profit. These swings give me indigestion.
A loose and horrible player limped in from middle position, an unknown player who had posted a big blind checked, and I raised with
A♠ K♠.
They both called. 3 to the flop for 6 small bets.
6♦ 9♦ T♦.
The idiot limper bet out and the next player folded. Lots of players will bet at a scary coordinated flop like that with just a big diamond. If he just had a big diamond, he wouldn't fold but I was winning. And if he actually had a pair, he'd be afraid that I had him beat and would revert to check-calling the rest of the way. Taking back control of the hand seemed appropriate here, so I raised. He called the raise and the turn was the
Q♠.
He bet out again, making the pot 6 big bets. My first thought was that he had the Q♦ in his hand, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like he'd just check and call with that kind of hand. I concluded that he most likely had either a big diamond or a pair of tens without much kicker, so either I was ahead or I had a lot of top pair or straight outs. So I called. Just like the last hand, the river paired sixes with the same
6♥.
He bet out again. Once again, it seemed like a strong hand would have check-raised me at some point, and a medium strength hand like T♣ 8♣ would have checked the river planning to call a bet. So I called and beat his K♦ 5♠ bluff to win the $302 pot.
Winning is more fun than losing.
A loose and horrible player limped in from middle position, an unknown player who had posted a big blind checked, and I raised with
A♠ K♠.
They both called. 3 to the flop for 6 small bets.
6♦ 9♦ T♦.
The idiot limper bet out and the next player folded. Lots of players will bet at a scary coordinated flop like that with just a big diamond. If he just had a big diamond, he wouldn't fold but I was winning. And if he actually had a pair, he'd be afraid that I had him beat and would revert to check-calling the rest of the way. Taking back control of the hand seemed appropriate here, so I raised. He called the raise and the turn was the
Q♠.
He bet out again, making the pot 6 big bets. My first thought was that he had the Q♦ in his hand, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like he'd just check and call with that kind of hand. I concluded that he most likely had either a big diamond or a pair of tens without much kicker, so either I was ahead or I had a lot of top pair or straight outs. So I called. Just like the last hand, the river paired sixes with the same
6♥.
He bet out again. Once again, it seemed like a strong hand would have check-raised me at some point, and a medium strength hand like T♣ 8♣ would have checked the river planning to call a bet. So I called and beat his K♦ 5♠ bluff to win the $302 pot.
Winning is more fun than losing.
Eternal Shame
I am not a good poker player.
Sure, I've been able to scratch a living for half a year by taking money from the retarded chimps that inhabit the online poker world, but that is by no means enough to convince me I'm good. I'm getting there though, and every once in a while something happens that reminds which side of the line I'm on.
This hand will haunt my dreams for many nights. I'm posting it here as a monument to my eternal shame.
When this hand was played, I was 3 hours into a session and down about $1500 4-tabling $15/30 on Party. The games were insanely good, even for a Saturday night, and my luck had been insanely bad so far, putting my Zen-like patience to the test.
Some idiot raised in early position, and I reraised him with
A♣T♣
which I won't always play that way, but this guy was very loose and aggressive and wild so I wanted to isolate him and see a flop heads-up. Everyone else folded, and he called. The flop came down:
9♣ 6♠ 3♦
He bet out. This meant I was probably winning, because he'd probably try to check and raise if he had a pair. I raised and he called. The turn was the
2♠
He checked again, and called my bet. The river was the seemingly harmless
6♥
so I was surprised that he decided to bet out. I replayed the hand in my mind and decided that he must be bluffing, because I believed there was no paired hand he would have played the way he played the flop. Once I determined he was bluffing, I also had to face the prospect that he could still have me beat with an Ace with a better kicker. So I decided to raise, figuring he might fold AK, AQ or AJ.
He rocked my world by quickly reraising. As soon as it happened, I stopped thinking clearly.
I stared at the board:
9♣ 6♠ 3♦ 2♠ 6♥
What the fuck could this guy have?? I had bet and raised at every opportunity, and he'd have to think I had a big pocket pair. He couldn't think I'd actually fold here. But I still just couldn't imagine he had a good hand. I'd seen him bluff several times, but I had also seen him give up on a bluff when it was obvious it wouldn't work. But damn this river 3-bet was so quick that it felt very very weird. As the timer was running down, I considered capping for the same reasons I had put in the first raise, but finally convinced myself that I wasn't thinking clearly because I was having a rough session, and that capping the river with no pair was too crazy. I folded.
He showed
J♠7♠
to taunt me as he scooped the $382 pot that should have been mine.
Looking back on the hand, my reasoning and my play was absolutely perfect until I raised his river bet. Even that river raise could have been good, but I never considered that he might 3-bet me. My reason for the raise was that it might force him to fold a better Ace, but I should have thought back to preflop and realized that he would have probably capped AK or AQ, and maybe even AJ. So without much chance of him having a better hand than mine that would fold to my raise, I guess just calling would have been better. There aren't many players who would put that reraise in on a total bluff, and with that paired board and the strength I had shown, I just never imagined he would reraise bluff.
The lesson for me is obvious - be prepared. My failure to consider what I'd do if he 3bet cost me a huge pot, which was a complete disaster, and especially painful on a night like this one. If I had thought about the possibility of him 3betting, and if I had realized that he would have reraised preflop with better Aces, I would have concluded that since I'd fold to his 3bet that I should just call his river bet. God I wish I could have pulled the trigger on that river cap...
I'm not a good player, but I'm getting close.
Sure, I've been able to scratch a living for half a year by taking money from the retarded chimps that inhabit the online poker world, but that is by no means enough to convince me I'm good. I'm getting there though, and every once in a while something happens that reminds which side of the line I'm on.
This hand will haunt my dreams for many nights. I'm posting it here as a monument to my eternal shame.
When this hand was played, I was 3 hours into a session and down about $1500 4-tabling $15/30 on Party. The games were insanely good, even for a Saturday night, and my luck had been insanely bad so far, putting my Zen-like patience to the test.
Some idiot raised in early position, and I reraised him with
A♣T♣
which I won't always play that way, but this guy was very loose and aggressive and wild so I wanted to isolate him and see a flop heads-up. Everyone else folded, and he called. The flop came down:
9♣ 6♠ 3♦
He bet out. This meant I was probably winning, because he'd probably try to check and raise if he had a pair. I raised and he called. The turn was the
2♠
He checked again, and called my bet. The river was the seemingly harmless
6♥
so I was surprised that he decided to bet out. I replayed the hand in my mind and decided that he must be bluffing, because I believed there was no paired hand he would have played the way he played the flop. Once I determined he was bluffing, I also had to face the prospect that he could still have me beat with an Ace with a better kicker. So I decided to raise, figuring he might fold AK, AQ or AJ.
He rocked my world by quickly reraising. As soon as it happened, I stopped thinking clearly.
I stared at the board:
9♣ 6♠ 3♦ 2♠ 6♥
What the fuck could this guy have?? I had bet and raised at every opportunity, and he'd have to think I had a big pocket pair. He couldn't think I'd actually fold here. But I still just couldn't imagine he had a good hand. I'd seen him bluff several times, but I had also seen him give up on a bluff when it was obvious it wouldn't work. But damn this river 3-bet was so quick that it felt very very weird. As the timer was running down, I considered capping for the same reasons I had put in the first raise, but finally convinced myself that I wasn't thinking clearly because I was having a rough session, and that capping the river with no pair was too crazy. I folded.
He showed
J♠7♠
to taunt me as he scooped the $382 pot that should have been mine.
Looking back on the hand, my reasoning and my play was absolutely perfect until I raised his river bet. Even that river raise could have been good, but I never considered that he might 3-bet me. My reason for the raise was that it might force him to fold a better Ace, but I should have thought back to preflop and realized that he would have probably capped AK or AQ, and maybe even AJ. So without much chance of him having a better hand than mine that would fold to my raise, I guess just calling would have been better. There aren't many players who would put that reraise in on a total bluff, and with that paired board and the strength I had shown, I just never imagined he would reraise bluff.
The lesson for me is obvious - be prepared. My failure to consider what I'd do if he 3bet cost me a huge pot, which was a complete disaster, and especially painful on a night like this one. If I had thought about the possibility of him 3betting, and if I had realized that he would have reraised preflop with better Aces, I would have concluded that since I'd fold to his 3bet that I should just call his river bet. God I wish I could have pulled the trigger on that river cap...
I'm not a good player, but I'm getting close.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Ease the tension
I hate it when a poker player berates his opponent for bad play after a hand. They do it because they are frustrated to have lost a hand to someone who played poorly, but it bothers me because aside from being rude, it is bad for the game. What are these jerks trying to accomplish? Do you want your opponents to play better? Do you want bad players to feel offended and leave? Obviously they don't consider that, and just lash out because it helps heal their wounded ego.
Usually when I see this happening at my table, I lightly make fun of the player who was doing the insulting. A lot of the time that shuts them up, or makes them see how dumb they are being. My goal is to diffuse the tension and make everything friendly, something any entrepreneur does when there is a loud fight in their place of business.
But when that doesn't work, sometimes I have to get creative. Recently, at a table I was playing on Paradise Poker, some jerk wouldn't stop ranting about how "online poker is rigged," and that "all his opponents are bullshit."
So I started typing, "Yeah poker is mostly bullshit. But at least I don't have to talk to my wife. She knows not to talk to me when I play."
I get a smattering of "lol" and "haha." Encouraged, I continue.
"Yeah, last time she tried to talk to me when I was playing I lost the hand and got really mad. So I stepped on her kitten."
"HA!"
"lol!!"
I'm rolling now. "The next day I went out and got her another kitten. Not because I felt bad. That way she wouldn't talk to me while I'm playing again because she still has something to lose."
"HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAA!"
Who wouldn't want to play at my table?
Usually when I see this happening at my table, I lightly make fun of the player who was doing the insulting. A lot of the time that shuts them up, or makes them see how dumb they are being. My goal is to diffuse the tension and make everything friendly, something any entrepreneur does when there is a loud fight in their place of business.
But when that doesn't work, sometimes I have to get creative. Recently, at a table I was playing on Paradise Poker, some jerk wouldn't stop ranting about how "online poker is rigged," and that "all his opponents are bullshit."
So I started typing, "Yeah poker is mostly bullshit. But at least I don't have to talk to my wife. She knows not to talk to me when I play."
I get a smattering of "lol" and "haha." Encouraged, I continue.
"Yeah, last time she tried to talk to me when I was playing I lost the hand and got really mad. So I stepped on her kitten."
"HA!"
"lol!!"
I'm rolling now. "The next day I went out and got her another kitten. Not because I felt bad. That way she wouldn't talk to me while I'm playing again because she still has something to lose."
"HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAA!"
Who wouldn't want to play at my table?
Friday, September 09, 2005
Drivel 3
When the going gets tough, I get philosophical. That is just how I am. Intense reflection and introspection have gotten me through life's challenges - loss, disappointment, frustration, illness, indecision, injury, and whatever other problems we all face. I haven't burdened myself by giving this blog a narrow focus, so with the exception of illness (knock on wood), I've used this space as a tool for coping with all of those. I write this stuff for myself, and I share it with anyone else who wants to hear my voice. Often I'm honestly amazed that anyone reads this drivel, but I am grateful for the opportunity to be heard.
Poker life is hard in ways that are difficult to explain.
When you're winning, you feel like a genius and the game is the easiest thing in the world. When you're losing, you feel like the biggest idiot alive and like the whole world is out to get you. Reality is probably somewhere in the middle, hopefully slightly closer to genius than idiot.
But I've been on the idiot side for almost 2 straight weeks now, and its getting harder and harder to remember anything else. All the understanding of poker theory, any concept of variance, it all feels hopelessly hollow as my money gushes away to the idiots that hit every miracle river. I can recite fairy tales about "the long run"and tell myself to just play my game and chip away at the damage. I can convince myself that I'm good at avoiding tilt and that I handle adversity well. But can I really believe all that crap?
I keep writing these blog posts that are just pep-talks to myself. Drivel 1 Drivel 2. Those are by no means the 1st and 2nd drivel posts, just the first ones I found in a quick look at the archives.
The hardest thing right now is that I know enough to recognize all the mistakes I'm making while I lose all this money. I know that world class players make mistakes. And I know that huge losers make mistakes. I know that world class players can have losing streaks worse than this, and I know that huge losers have winning streaks better than any wins I've ever had. I laugh at the morons who are convinced their losses are because of bad luck, then I convince myself that my losses are because of bad luck. So who is laughing at me?
Oh wait, this is a skill game. If I'm a winner, then losses must be bad luck right?
Am I a winner in this game? I'd need 20 times more hands than I've played to have any reasonable degree of certainty about my "true" winrate, and by the time I've played that many hands, I won't be the same player I was at the start. Or maybe I'll never get to the point that I establish I'm a winning player, because I hit a downswing along the way that wiped out my bankroll. Lots of small businesses fail because of undercapitalization, not because they weren't good ideas that could have made money. Or maybe my business idea just sucks.
So these are the mental hurdles I have to clear, and the resolution is just accepting that this life is one of constant uncertainty. While you never really know what something will feel like until you live it, I had a good idea what I was getting myself into when I chose this path, and I certainly wouldn't trade the last 6 months for anything. For the first 5 months of it, if you asked me if I'd still be doing this poker thing in 6 months, I wouldn't have had an answer. Suddenly, 2 weeks ago I thought I had an affirmative answer, but now that arrogance has been punished and I'm back to uncertainty.
So it goes. And so I'm going to bed. At least I don't have to set an alarm.
Poker life is hard in ways that are difficult to explain.
When you're winning, you feel like a genius and the game is the easiest thing in the world. When you're losing, you feel like the biggest idiot alive and like the whole world is out to get you. Reality is probably somewhere in the middle, hopefully slightly closer to genius than idiot.
But I've been on the idiot side for almost 2 straight weeks now, and its getting harder and harder to remember anything else. All the understanding of poker theory, any concept of variance, it all feels hopelessly hollow as my money gushes away to the idiots that hit every miracle river. I can recite fairy tales about "the long run"and tell myself to just play my game and chip away at the damage. I can convince myself that I'm good at avoiding tilt and that I handle adversity well. But can I really believe all that crap?
I keep writing these blog posts that are just pep-talks to myself. Drivel 1 Drivel 2. Those are by no means the 1st and 2nd drivel posts, just the first ones I found in a quick look at the archives.
The hardest thing right now is that I know enough to recognize all the mistakes I'm making while I lose all this money. I know that world class players make mistakes. And I know that huge losers make mistakes. I know that world class players can have losing streaks worse than this, and I know that huge losers have winning streaks better than any wins I've ever had. I laugh at the morons who are convinced their losses are because of bad luck, then I convince myself that my losses are because of bad luck. So who is laughing at me?
Oh wait, this is a skill game. If I'm a winner, then losses must be bad luck right?
Am I a winner in this game? I'd need 20 times more hands than I've played to have any reasonable degree of certainty about my "true" winrate, and by the time I've played that many hands, I won't be the same player I was at the start. Or maybe I'll never get to the point that I establish I'm a winning player, because I hit a downswing along the way that wiped out my bankroll. Lots of small businesses fail because of undercapitalization, not because they weren't good ideas that could have made money. Or maybe my business idea just sucks.
So these are the mental hurdles I have to clear, and the resolution is just accepting that this life is one of constant uncertainty. While you never really know what something will feel like until you live it, I had a good idea what I was getting myself into when I chose this path, and I certainly wouldn't trade the last 6 months for anything. For the first 5 months of it, if you asked me if I'd still be doing this poker thing in 6 months, I wouldn't have had an answer. Suddenly, 2 weeks ago I thought I had an affirmative answer, but now that arrogance has been punished and I'm back to uncertainty.
So it goes. And so I'm going to bed. At least I don't have to set an alarm.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Big Losses
I've lost 4BB/100 hands in my almost 3,000 hands this week. It would take several miracles for this not to finish out as my worst week of poker results ever. On Saturday I was actually down $4,000 for the day at one point, but managed to reduce the damage to $2,800.
In the face of gigantic losses, and in spite of nearly continuous cause for frustration, I've generally avoided tilt for the most part, and played reasonably well. Last month's good results buffer me against this week's woes, financially and emotionally. I'm still averaging 3BB/100 at the $15/30 limit. Saying that over and over to myself seems to help when I lose a 5th straight hand where I had to make several judgment calls that didn't work out right. My judgment has been good enough to win most of the time, so I try to learn from the hand but not beat myself up for a play that looks bad in retrospect.
Something I've been able to avoid is the mindset that sounds something like "well I'm down so much already so what's the difference if I lose another few hundred." Instead of wildly risking more to avoid a loss, I remember that even though it feels different, the financial difference between losing $4,000 and $2,800 is exactly the same as the difference between winning $400 and $1,600. The bottom line is all that matters, so I can't fall for an all-or-nothing psychological trap. I've been surprisingly content to just slowly chip away at the deficit, an ability that will no doubt serve me well whenever I have to deal with a big loss.
In the face of gigantic losses, and in spite of nearly continuous cause for frustration, I've generally avoided tilt for the most part, and played reasonably well. Last month's good results buffer me against this week's woes, financially and emotionally. I'm still averaging 3BB/100 at the $15/30 limit. Saying that over and over to myself seems to help when I lose a 5th straight hand where I had to make several judgment calls that didn't work out right. My judgment has been good enough to win most of the time, so I try to learn from the hand but not beat myself up for a play that looks bad in retrospect.
Something I've been able to avoid is the mindset that sounds something like "well I'm down so much already so what's the difference if I lose another few hundred." Instead of wildly risking more to avoid a loss, I remember that even though it feels different, the financial difference between losing $4,000 and $2,800 is exactly the same as the difference between winning $400 and $1,600. The bottom line is all that matters, so I can't fall for an all-or-nothing psychological trap. I've been surprisingly content to just slowly chip away at the deficit, an ability that will no doubt serve me well whenever I have to deal with a big loss.
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