Who needs a big hand?
Date: Thu, Jul 24, 2008
My last three poker sessions--two at the Palms and one at the Rio--have been fairly remarkable for the absence of big hands. I did win one big pot with a full house (though the smallest full house possible: deuces full of treys), but other than that I haven't had so much as a stinkin' flush.
I have hit two straights, and in each case managed to stack an opponent. Last night I held the nuts: Q-9 with a board of 3-7-8-10-J, and a guy holding 8-9 moved all in on me. OK, well, I guess I'll call! Monday night at the Rio I made a wonderfully disguised straight holding a 5-7 and took all the chips of a guy who had flopped a set and slow-played it.
Last night I felted another guy when my A-A nicely matched the flop of A-10-8. I made a healthy bet at it and was surprised when somebody moved all in on me. OK, well, again, since I have the nuts, I guess I'll call! He had A-10 for top two pair. Ouch. (By the way, that's the only set I've hit in these three sessions.)
For the most part, it's been working about like this: The standard premuim hands win me small pots, mostly because the table recognizes that I'm playing tight and solid, and a continuation bet on the flop is usually enough to take it down. Those small pots don't add up to much profit, but they do compensate for the aborted hands--the ones in which I have position and call a pre-flop raise, but then have to abandon ship when I don't improve.
The big profit is coming from the small hands--and I mean that in two senses. First, as I've said, I have had a strange absence of big made hands: full houses, flushes, etc. Second, it's the sneaky, tricky, little cards that nobody at the table suspects I would be playing that have pulled in the big pots. 2-3 making a full house. 5-7 making a straight. Another 5-7 the same night making two pair to crack an opponent's big pocket pair. A 5-6 in that same session hitting trips (a 5 on the flop and another on the turn) to take down a player who couldn't get away from top pair/top kicker.
A little more profit has come my way from picking off two bluffs with a single pair.
Then there have been the two occasions that I raked in the chips in the most satisfying way: with the worst hand, an intimidating table image, and a well-timed big bet. The second of these was last night, against the guy who had earlier lost everything when I had the queen-high straight. This time I missed my straight draw, but hit him with an all-in check-raise on the river. Our earlier confrontation obviously did a Jedi mind trick on him, and he very reluctantly folded. On the first occasion, I wrongly thought I had the best hand. The loose-aggressive guy to my right made a continuation bet on an 8-high flop. I had 5-8 in my hand, and thought it was likely to be good, so made a big raise. He mucked Q-8 face up in a hurry. I showed him my own 8, but kept the other one hidden, and flashed him a grin. He confidently said to his buddy across the table, "I was beat. No way this guy calls a raise before the flop with anything worse than an A-8." Hee hee hee!
At a few points along the way, I have quietly bemoaned my relative inability to hit my flush draws and straight draws. (Let's face it: Two straights, zero flushes, one set, and one full house in nine hours of poker is a true drought of intrinsically strong hands.) But then I look at my spreadsheet and see that I've been averaging $85/hour this week (well above my norm), and realize that such complaints are being atrociously petty. In the end, the absolute strength of one's hand isn't what matters--it's the relative strength against whatever one's opponents are holding. Bottom two pair is pretty trashy, but it's pure gold against unimproved pocket aces.
Very early in trying to learn about poker, I heard the oft-repeated notion that what really separates good players from the not-so-good isn't how much they win when they have the best hand, but how little they lose when they have the second-best hand. I pooh-poohed that as being the sort of tired refrain that people comfort themselves with. But the more I play this game, the more fervently I believe it to be true.
We all get a little rush from seeing the board bring us a full house or the nut flush. They look so pretty. They make us feel like we deserve a big pot to go along with them. But the biggest money-making tool in the toolbox remains the ability to push the second-best cards back to the dealer.
I like DoylesRoom
Date: Wed, Jul 23, 2008
Back in February, as I reported here, I created an account on DoylesRoom, but couldn't use it for anything but the stupid free games, because they were banning Nevada residents from real-money play. A few days ago I was browsing the list of online poker sites that still accept U.S. residents when I noticed that DoylesRoom had, at some point, quietly dropped the 11-state ban. It's part of the Microgaming network. Their sites have an odd assortment of 2-state bans, 3-state bans, and 50-state bans; see the complete list here. Nevada residents are accepted at DoylesRoom now.
So I made a $50 deposit, and tonight played there for the first time. They had a bounty tournament in which one would collect $500 for knocking out Doyle Brunson, T.J. Cloutier, or Mike Caro. I had received an email offer for a full rebate of the $27 entry fee, whether I won or lost the tournament. This seemed like a pretty good deal, so I signed up.
I played a micro-stakes cash game for 30 minutes or so before the tournament started so that I could learn the interface, tweak the table settings, etc. In both the cash game and tournament, I found myself liking the site quite a bit. The tournament lobby, for example, may be the nicest design I've ever seen--all the information presented clearly and easy to find. (The exception is that there seems to be no easy way to check on how the bounty players are doing. You have to know who they are, then slog through the pages alphabetically to find them.)
I started the tournament off nicely, as you can see from my status on the tourney page above, then took a bad beat and lived in the cellar for a long time. Finally doubled up by putting my own bad beat on somebody when I was just trying to steal the blinds with an all-in raise and ran into J-J. But my K-6 offsuit found another king on the turn, and I was back in it. A couple more steals, and I had gotten to just over the average stack, when I made an incredibly stupid move and got bounced just as the first break started. Oh well. That's one of the problems with knowing that I was playing for free--losing didn't seem like such a bad outcome, so I wasn't focused on winning. I should know better than to let myself get to such a sloppy, lazy frame of mind.
The average level of play seems pretty bad--definitely worse than Stars or Full Tilt, based on my very limited experience with the site so far. I think a good player would have a ton of advantage here.
Other good things about the table layout and controls: The color changes in players' avatars make it unusually easy to follow the action. It turns bright red when a player is all in, orange for a raise, green for a call, yellow/gold for a fold, regular avatar for players who haven't acted yet. The players in the blinds have their avatars replaced by "B. blind" and "S. blind." Couldn't be any clearer than that, although I wish the dealer button were larger. The pot has two numbers, one for the amount in the pot at the beginning of the current street, and one for the total amount put in, including current bets that haven't yet been called. This is just the way it should be, because both numbers are important for bet/raise sizing.
When it's my turn, I can just type in an amount to bet or raise without having to click on a stupid box first. I wish I could then just hit "return" to register the bet, but nope, have to click on a box to have it go through. That's annoying. Lots of good flexibility in colors, chat options, animation and sound options, etc. I found the sounds more pleasant than those of most online sites. Even better, you can adjust the volume of the alerts without changing your computer's internal system settings or touching the speaker volume knob. Why doesn't every site give you this control?
When looking for a cash game, I found the lobby kind of confusing, but maybe it's just a lack of familiarity.
Unfortunately, they don't seem to have razz or HORSE games, unless I missed something.
I'm really doing very little online these days other than razz and HORSE, so I probably won't use the Doyle account much, but when I feel like indulging in a hold'em tournament or cash game, it's going to be one of my top choices.
A little bullsh!t on "Bullsh!t"
Date: Wed, Jul 23, 2008
One of the few nice things about my crappy little downtown apartment is that the in-house cable system includes Showtime at no charge. So I faithfully watch Penn and Teller's show about the flim-flam that is all around us.
This week's episode was kind of a strange one, about companies that hawk things to help relieve insomnia. One story line they followed was a guy with chronic sleep problems coming to a convention in Vegas, showing all the things he does wrong that interfere with his chances of getting a good night of sleep. Naturally, he is staying at the Rio, where P&T perform.
As one example of the guy's poor decisions, they show him gorging himself at the Rio's buffet. In a voiceover, Penn mentions that the buffet is only about 50 yards from the Penn and Teller theater.
Huh?
If you've ever been to the Rio, you know that it is an enormous property. North to south, it covers all the way from Flamingo to Spring Mountain Road, which is nearly a mile. Much of that is parking lots and empty space, but still. I'm confident that the trek from the buffet, which is sort of in the southwest corner, very near the poker room, to the P&T theater, toward the north end, is closer to 500 yards than 50. You would not be completely crazy to get in your car and drive around to the north end of the property to get from the buffet to the theater if you were running late for the show after lingering too long over dinner.
I can't figure out any reason for this little lie. P&T often throw in false facts, disclosed as such later in the show, to keep you alert and to reinforce their pervasive message that you shouldn't trust things you hear as necessarily truthful. But there doesn't seem to be any of that motivation here.
Maybe the show's writers, who are more likely based in Los Angeles than Vegas, simply have no idea where the Rio buffet is in relation to the theater. But surely Penn knows the truth--why would he just go ahead with the script as written, rather than say, "Hey, you guys screwed up something here"?
There was no story-related reason to even mention the theater, so it was obviously just a little throw-away plug. Fine, I have no grudge against that. But they could have said that the buffet was "not too far" from the P&T theater, or something vague like that, rather than giving a specific--and egregiously erroneous--distance.
I remain puzzled by this.
(The chip above, incidentally, is one I picked up on a recent visit to the Rio poker room. It was issued some time within the last few months. Kind of unusual to find in general circulation a numbered, limited-edition chip with a sequence as low as 35, since those low numbers tend to be scooped up by chip collectors and dealers on the first day of issue.)
Scummy move at the Palms
Date: Wed, Jul 23, 2008
Just got home from a nice session at the Palms: profitable, enjoyable company, essentially free of drama and conflict. Well, except for one incident.
I wasn't in this hand. The flop was a jack and two small cards. Player A moved all in for about $70. Player B called. Player A then appropriately turned over his hole cards, A-J, for top pair/top kicker. Player B got a sort of pained expression on his face, and said, with what sounded to me like a dejected voice, "Oh, you've got the ace kicker." He did not reveal his cards.
The dealer put out the turn and river. Only then the Player B slowly turn over his Q-Q.
It was not only a slow-roll, but a slow-roll with a verbal needle embedded in it. I can think of no reason that B would have said what he did other than to deliberately create the false impression that he, too, had a jack but with a lower second card, and would need help to win the hand.
This isn't against the rules, but it's pretty low-life.
When I'm the all-in caller, and uncertain whether I have the winner, I'll wait for the bettor to expose his hand first. (If I'm highly confident that I'm going to win, I'll just end the mystery right away, and not care much whether the bettor ever shows.) When he does, I will usually show mine, too, whether I'm ahead or behind, but always if I'm ahead. If I see that I'm behind and feel a bit sheepish about having made a bad call, I may keep my cards down, but if a lucky turn or river peels off to give me the hand, I take that as my cue to immediately show.
I understand that not every opponent can divine that this is my approach, but if everybody did this, then one could confidently take the fact that the caller's cards are still face down as his quiet acknowledgement that he doesn't have the winner, and the bettor would have much less suspense and anxiety.
As with most points of etiquette, if you're guided by (1) how you would want others to treat you, and (2) being considerate of the feelings of others (which basically amounts to the same thing), you'll get it right most of the time.
In tonight's situation, it was rude enough for B to wait until the entire board was out before showing that he had the winner. But to give the little misdirectional speech first--apparently for no reason other than to give his opponent the false impression that he would probably win the hand--turned a marginally inconsiderate delay into a seriously and gratuitously nasty gesture. I had been at the table for an hour or so, and Player A had never done anything rude or shady to B or to anybody else, for which this might be considered a "turnabout is fair play" move. It came from out of nowhere, for no discernible reason other than to kick a guy when he's down.
It was a crass and scummy. Player A left the game, and the rest of us were left with a bad taste in our mouths and considerable contempt for Mr. B. I wonder if he thinks it was worth it.
Fortunately, he was additionally uncouth in being a hit-and-run artist, and left two hands later, so we didn't have to hate him for very long.
Just as an incidental note, I won the biggest pot of the night--a four-way all-in--with 2-3. You might be able to guess what I have to say to explain/excuse my play: But they were sooooted! (That ended up not mattering. I flopped two pairs and hit a full house on the turn.)
This has never happened
Date: Wed, Jul 23, 2008
I'm guessing that the following sequence of events has never occurred, not even once, in the history of poker:
1. The player to the left of the big blind posts a live straddle.
2. The dealer announces the straddle.
3. Every player at the table is paying attention and hears the announcement.
4. Every player who wishes to limp in to the pot, when it is his turn, remembers the straddle announcement, and, without further prompting or correction, places the correct amount in front of him.
I think the bare minimum number of reminders a dealer ever has to issue, after the initial announcement, is two.
The sequence in which every player hears the message, remembers it, and acts accordingly is, I think, like the unicorn, merely a lovely but unrealistic myth.
Poker gems, #150
Date: Tue, Jul 22, 2008
Kevin Conley, in "The Players," article in The New Yorker magazine, July 11/18, 2005, p. 55.
In 1970, Binion's Horseshoe Casino hosted the first World Series of Poker, and the original trophy went, by peer vote, to Johnny Moss, a Texas veteran who had seen the need, on one occasion, to point his gun at a peephole in a poker-room ceiling and inquire, "Now, fellas, do I have to go and shoot a bullet in the ceiling? Or you going to send your boy down without any harm?"
Poker gems, #149
Date: Tue, Jul 22, 2008
Kevin Conley, in "The Players," article in The New Yorker magazine, July 11/18, 2005, p. 55.
Still, math is at the core of poker's basic strategies, and [Daniel] Negreanu believes that these can be quickly and profitably learned.
"I went to speak at Ohio State and I ended up jokingly saying that I'm starting my Stay Out of School program," he said. "I was totally kidding, but, realistically, it's not that far-fetched an idea. For kids that are eighteen, nineteen years old, that are going to go to college, get a dead-end job where they make fifty or sixty thousand dollars a year, I can take that same kid, teach him how to play poker, and in three months show him how to make more money than he would ever make in that dead-end job.
"The stock market is gambling, right?" he continued. "This kid studies and he makes money in the stock market, and this is considered by society O.K. A poker player, a kid, sees all these idiots making poor investments on these poker hands and says, 'Wow, I could do a better job than they're doing,' and he studies, and he makes it. How is that different, realistically, than a stockbroker? I mean, I don't see the difference."
"Well," [Erick] Lindgren said, "there's more cheating and collusion in the stock market."