Tuesday was my last day to play for a bit. Thanksgiving on Thursday and a lot of family coming to stay meant it was time to head back to San Manuel casino. I expected to be stuck playing $2/4 limit hold'em again, but hoped that because of the holiday period there'd be more no limit tables going than I'd found last time.
I arrived about half past three, got my $100 in $1 chips and went to the brush. Of the 40 or so tables going, they actually had a couple of tables of Omaha and 7 card stud and three tables of nlhe! I put my name down for the $1/2 and went to play some limit hold'em while I waited.
After about 45 minutes of wasted pocket kings and such, I took a break to check in with the brush because I couldn't see my initials on the board anymore. There'd been a change of staff and something got messed up somewhere so I had to put my name down again. Fifteen minutes later and I got the call to table 8.
I took my rack of chips (still about $100) to the table and took seat 1, my least favorite. I was thinking about how I'd move to change to any different seat that opened while I pulled $200 out of my wallet to buy more chips, as I'd seen the max buy-in was $300. Doubt crept in when I was given 2 stacks of $5 yellows to go with my rack of $1 blues, and then the dealer asked if she could buy some of my blues. It was then I noticed that all the players had mostly yellows ($5 chips) and a two or three had a lot more than $300. In fact, the polite young man to my left had well over $1000 in yellows. Huh. It took a few beats for me to realize I was at the $2/5 table. The blinds hadn't come around to me yet, so I definitely had time to stand up and find the right stakes for my $300, but I had noticed a couple of other things: first- 7 out of the 9 players at the table were mid-twenty-something males (one seat was empty of a player but had about $500 in chips and a 'missed blind' disc in front of it).
In my admittedly brief experience playing live, both cash and tournaments, I've noticed that something in the dynamic between middle-aged female me and twenty-something male players gives me an edge against at least 80% of them. Whether it's because they immediately box me as a M.I.L.F. (Mother I'd Like to Felt) or H.O.T. (Housewife On Tilt) I'm not sure, but there's something at work where they don't believe me when I have it and do believe me when I'm bluffing. So with a number of prime candidates at this table I decide to give it a go and see how the dynamics played out.
The next notable event was when a young reg-type wandered by and said hello to a couple of the players and asked about the seat with chips but no player. The guys in seats 7 and 9 lit up:
"It's BeRad!"
"Brad? The Brad?"
"The one and only!" followed by big grins. Hmmm.
The dealer change came up soon after and the sitting dealer told the new one: "Seat 5's been missing for ages. It's time he's out." Several of the guys erupted with protests: "No way! Hold his seat!" and the like. The new dealer sat down and said, "If the players want him here, we don't interfere. Not our job." Everybody settled down. I looked forward to seeing what The Brad was like.
I played only a few pots in the next half hour or so, noticed that the B.S.(Boy Shark) in Seat 9 liked to pop a raise pre-flop every hand and tested him a bit to see, yep, he only really got stubborn with me. Meanwhile, The Brad arrives back at the table, whisky grin on his 60ish face saying "Did you miss me, boys?" And proceeds to try to buy Johnny Walker Black for the table "and whatever the lady wants.", wink.
Over the next few hours he proceeded to talk 'drunk', lose big pots, re-load, re-buy drinks, win bigger pots and generally have a good time while being greeted like family by the floor people. From what I saw, only the guy in Seat 2 was really seeing the profits from The Brad situation. He was early to mid-twenties, very quiet, very polite and a very strong, smart player (and so didn't qualify as a B.S.). I eventually left the table with $1230 about four hours after sitting down while Seat 2's stack had grown to near $3000. And we never once got in each other's way.
My visiting family's all hitting the road again at the weekend and I'm looking forward to returning to San Manuel. I am aware, by the way, that the more astute B.S.s will adjust, so I've decided to make sure I take my $300 to the $1/2 table, at least to start.
Friday 23 November 2012
Monday 19 November 2012
Capture the flag
I played the Fox Poker Room Main Event at the beginning of September. I got there as the winner of The Hendon Mob Forum syndicate.* The 2-day event was very well run as usual for Genting and a great structure. I took 5th place for £1905. My percentage in the sydicate meant I took home £905. I happily tipped the dealers out of my portion knowing it was well deserved not least because, judging by their astonished though patient reactions, dealers at the Fox aren't used to players fighting back tears after being informed they put out an incorrect amount for a raise. (I'm working on that.)
The day after (Monday) I played a smaller Fox tournament and got 5th there as well. When I registered for this, the poker room manager Nick V. warned me this one wasn't an event that would get me another Hendon Mob database entry - he knows I've developed a mild case of flag fetish.
Since then I've been on an extended trip to the U.S. where we all know there isn't much on-line poker to play. I've even missed the re-launch of Full Tilt! But I'm assured my $1.53 will be held securely until I can log in again. So, since I'm here until the beginning of January I've been playing in brick n mortars when I can.
I played one night in Hollywood Park Casino. All the poker room staff were friendly and welcoming and the security guards never once drew their guns (it's an interesting place, Inglewood). I went for the nightly 6:30pm tournament - not the best structure and it started over an hour late but I was gasping to play and we eventually got about 40 players. Made the final table but not the money (pretty top heavy pay-outs) though they did give us all a $5 meal voucher just for entering and they make a pretty good reuben.
There were about 20 cash tables running on this Wednesday night. They actually had a mixed game table ($2/4)- I was thrilled to get the chance to play mixed live for the first time so I put my name down and watched the table for a while. The dealer was excellent, the players were a very mixed bag of age, race and gender but all were intensely focused and the table had several avid observers. Every passing minute left me feeling more intimidated to be honest. After about 15 minutes I asked a floorman how long he thought the wait for the mixed games would be. He told me they were all regs and there for the duration but maybe the player who was a school teacher would leave by midnight or so. (This had me running through the list of my childhood teachers and re-evaluating.) A combination of disappointment and relief hit me at the news of the long wait since it was only about 10pm. So I put my name down for $1/$2 nlhe and got a seat within a minute or two.
I sat for the next four hours in sincere gratitude to the pokerverse for my regular visits to The Hendon Mob Forum. Playing with that lot in the league and other forum interactions have honed my game to mediocre in the Mob world, but made me something of a Hollywood Park shark. (By the way, mediocre is a big leg-up from where I was when I first started ghosting that forum. I thought I [i]knew[/i] poker back then. Now I know I don't know, you know?) About an hour in, a floorman came over to tell me a seat was available at the mixed table. I declined. I left at 2am when the tables were all breaking up - I ended up leaving with about $350.
I'm now in a different part of southern California and the local (10 mins drive) is the San Manuel Indian Casino. The poker room is newly renovated, quite large, non-smoking and sound-proofed from the gazillions of slot machines. Most of the staff are very friendly and the dealers are sound. Table service for food and drinks is pretty good too. All in all a very comfortable place to play. But. They offer no tournaments. Worse, it turns out they also offer almost no nlhe. It's a limit hold'em mecca here. I arrived at about 6pm on a Thursday and while there were maybe 30 or so tables going out of what looked like 50 or 60 available - only ONE of those was nlhe. The min buy-in for $2/2 was $20. I sat down with $100 and rode the rollercoaster a few times to finally leave at 5:30am with $120. (Got comped a couple of meals so at least that $20 win was pure profit.) When I left the poker room at dawn there were still three full tables going and more people were starting to dribble in.
The players were a very entertaining bunch. One guy told me not to set my handbag on the floor. He said he was just looking out for me because in his community (Mexican) the women see it as bad luck financially to ever put their bags on the floor. (I kept it on the bottom shelf of my drinks table after that.) Most seemed more intent on what the flashing light at the brush was doing than on the game. The rake is $3 at $2/2 plus one for the jackpot - which excites the players more when that police-type light flashes blue than other colors. I never did get a clear idea of the jackpot requirements, but there were 8 other players at the table being lookouts so I figured it was covered. Over many hours of playing I finally learned not to chase too much post flop, and to semi-bluff only very strategically. Mostly. Also that most of the other players will chase but won't bluff much. Mostly.
Limit hold'em has always been one of my weakest of mixed games so I'm looking at this as (another) opportunity to improve. I'll leave driving an hour or so to the next nearest casino- Morongo - until after the Thanksgiving holiday here. I also might make the drive into L.A. and have a go at the Bicycle Casino or the Commerce. Or both.
*This was an amazing value syndicated satellite: The syndicate played a single table on-line tournament where 10 players paid £22 each, 1st place won the seat and 47.5 % of any main event prize money winnings, with the other nine syndicate players getting a percentage of possible winnings as well. The Mob and Genting very generously paid the other half of the £400+£35 Fox main event buy-in.
Thursday 23 August 2012
Gack. TILT
So you've had some life issues. Some serious real life family-type issues going on recently, and your head hasn't been in the game.
Ok, here I am saying 'you' when I really mean me. My head hasn't been correct for poker for several weeks. That doesn't mean I haven't played a bit, but it does mean I haven't played seriously - or with any real focus. Life tilt, really. Best to not play anything I should take seriously.
But once in a while I feel like, 'I could focus right now. I could play my A game.'
Last time I felt that way I played great and got close to a good score on Genting - busted 4th, top 2 players paid a £430 GPS buy in.
Tonight I was feeling right as well. Decided to play Speed Poker because I've noticed from previous 'dip-ins' that a lot of the play suits my game. I won't call it 'soft', because I think that term is far too nebulous and arrogant/insulting (depending which perspective you have). But the brilliant Speed Poker challenge being run right now means there are a lot of players working with a specific agenda, and that suits my strategy.
There have been a lot of software updates on Genting/iPoker in the last week or so, though, and they don't they don't seem to be sitting right- in my laptop at least. I've reported a few problems about freezing and total shutdowns of the site software. I continued to play, though, because the opportunities seemed to outweigh the difficulties.
Until this:
Frozen out of a dream set-up. Forced to fold and sit-out. (There is no time-bank on iPoker Speed like there is on PokerStars 'Zoom'.)
Probably it hits me harder because I play so rarely right now. But I think any poker player seeing this hand can feel the pain of the sit-out & fold forced here.
I sent this screenshot to the site-meisters, and proclaimed I can't play Speed Poker until the issues are sorted. It's not a threat. For one reason, because I'm not in any way a rake monster that they would court or worry about losing, so there is no threat to Genting/iPoker at all.
But really, it's about my sanity - life tilt is hard enough. Life management as well as bankroll management is shouting at me: 'BAD risk!!!'. So, I've logged onto Stars to play a bit of 8-mix. For now. The old saying, 'A change is as good as a rest.' has always worked for me.
Sidenote: 'Rush' poker always tries to force its way in when I'm speaking/writing about any 'quickly-changing-table' type play. And on Rush there were tournaments! I'm smiling now - trying to remember the FullTilt(sponsored by PokerStars) re-start date...
Ok, here I am saying 'you' when I really mean me. My head hasn't been correct for poker for several weeks. That doesn't mean I haven't played a bit, but it does mean I haven't played seriously - or with any real focus. Life tilt, really. Best to not play anything I should take seriously.
But once in a while I feel like, 'I could focus right now. I could play my A game.'
Last time I felt that way I played great and got close to a good score on Genting - busted 4th, top 2 players paid a £430 GPS buy in.
Tonight I was feeling right as well. Decided to play Speed Poker because I've noticed from previous 'dip-ins' that a lot of the play suits my game. I won't call it 'soft', because I think that term is far too nebulous and arrogant/insulting (depending which perspective you have). But the brilliant Speed Poker challenge being run right now means there are a lot of players working with a specific agenda, and that suits my strategy.
There have been a lot of software updates on Genting/iPoker in the last week or so, though, and they don't they don't seem to be sitting right- in my laptop at least. I've reported a few problems about freezing and total shutdowns of the site software. I continued to play, though, because the opportunities seemed to outweigh the difficulties.
Until this:
Frozen out of a dream set-up. Forced to fold and sit-out. (There is no time-bank on iPoker Speed like there is on PokerStars 'Zoom'.)
Probably it hits me harder because I play so rarely right now. But I think any poker player seeing this hand can feel the pain of the sit-out & fold forced here.
I sent this screenshot to the site-meisters, and proclaimed I can't play Speed Poker until the issues are sorted. It's not a threat. For one reason, because I'm not in any way a rake monster that they would court or worry about losing, so there is no threat to Genting/iPoker at all.
But really, it's about my sanity - life tilt is hard enough. Life management as well as bankroll management is shouting at me: 'BAD risk!!!'. So, I've logged onto Stars to play a bit of 8-mix. For now. The old saying, 'A change is as good as a rest.' has always worked for me.
Sidenote: 'Rush' poker always tries to force its way in when I'm speaking/writing about any 'quickly-changing-table' type play. And on Rush there were tournaments! I'm smiling now - trying to remember the FullTilt(sponsored by PokerStars) re-start date...
Monday 9 July 2012
Sunday 1 July 2012
Fired Up has its backfire
Well done Captain Gee for winning! Gracious behaviour in triumph is a mighty virtue and the Cap'n has it in spades. At his request, the £10 I owe him is going to charity, the Dingle Coast Guard and Rescue team, as opposed to his local. Doubly well done mate.
So here's some of what happened:
Min cashing is a slippery slope for me. On seeing my stats climb so well by the min cashes I'd made, I began to focus on that, rather than on the play that got me there. Playerscope was down for several days, possibly due to my personal stat-checking traffic alone overwhelming the site. It was all downhill from there stats and graphs wise.
I also had some life issues that were more important for the last couple of weeks and weren't conducive to good play. But, as always, the recreational side of poker is balm for what ails me. 8 game mix being the best medicine at those times. 10 game mix is even better (aaah the healing powers of badugi) but we all know that's not around anymore. Yet.
So. Stats tilt. A new one for me. It amazes me how many wrong turns and rocky side roads I can find. Did I say before that my kids' favorite refrain is that I can get lost in a roundabout? In actual fact, sometimes it just takes me a couple of extra orbits to read the signs correctly. And that's what happened here. Of course stats are an important tool in analyzing my game. ... Excuse me one moment.... Ok. Just had to do a spellcheck there. Yep, 'anal' is part of analysis. See, if I'd spotted that before hand I'd have been in a lot less difficulty! I know that I, personally, cannot improve my game by being anal about my stats. It doesn't teach me enough.
Some key issues have been revealed to me in all my floundering around as a stats fish this month:
If the buy-in is too low, I don't take it seriously enough. Too high and I sweat it too much even though it's within my bankroll.
My tournament selection is foggy. More than just the buy-in, I need to take my time reviewing the structures. I played one tournament, the PokerStars $11 R/B $10k guarantee 'Action Hour'. I didn't know that after the rebuy period ended the blinds reverted back to beginning levels. Pretty damn important info strategy wise.
My middle stage tournament game is rotten. On thinking back to the run-deeps I've had, I just magically got from making the money to sitting at the final table. In my mind, that is. Obviously winning those flips and run-good are slices from that nine-piece pie - but the fact that I haven't had awareness of my middle stage play is just wrong. So I've been more intent now minding my play and I've noticed I don't know how to play a good sized to big stack in the middle late stages at all. I'm over active/over confident/and something else as well. I think. This is the real spot for some more analysis.
Best news for me is I'm very excited to be starting 'Home School Poker' with a group of players I respect. It will be good to work on the game in a very focused way with like-minded mates. Much better chance of improving my game than my former group of Sharkscope, Playerscope and me.
So here's some of what happened:
Min cashing is a slippery slope for me. On seeing my stats climb so well by the min cashes I'd made, I began to focus on that, rather than on the play that got me there. Playerscope was down for several days, possibly due to my personal stat-checking traffic alone overwhelming the site. It was all downhill from there stats and graphs wise.
I also had some life issues that were more important for the last couple of weeks and weren't conducive to good play. But, as always, the recreational side of poker is balm for what ails me. 8 game mix being the best medicine at those times. 10 game mix is even better (aaah the healing powers of badugi) but we all know that's not around anymore. Yet.
So. Stats tilt. A new one for me. It amazes me how many wrong turns and rocky side roads I can find. Did I say before that my kids' favorite refrain is that I can get lost in a roundabout? In actual fact, sometimes it just takes me a couple of extra orbits to read the signs correctly. And that's what happened here. Of course stats are an important tool in analyzing my game. ... Excuse me one moment.... Ok. Just had to do a spellcheck there. Yep, 'anal' is part of analysis. See, if I'd spotted that before hand I'd have been in a lot less difficulty! I know that I, personally, cannot improve my game by being anal about my stats. It doesn't teach me enough.
Some key issues have been revealed to me in all my floundering around as a stats fish this month:
If the buy-in is too low, I don't take it seriously enough. Too high and I sweat it too much even though it's within my bankroll.
My tournament selection is foggy. More than just the buy-in, I need to take my time reviewing the structures. I played one tournament, the PokerStars $11 R/B $10k guarantee 'Action Hour'. I didn't know that after the rebuy period ended the blinds reverted back to beginning levels. Pretty damn important info strategy wise.
My middle stage tournament game is rotten. On thinking back to the run-deeps I've had, I just magically got from making the money to sitting at the final table. In my mind, that is. Obviously winning those flips and run-good are slices from that nine-piece pie - but the fact that I haven't had awareness of my middle stage play is just wrong. So I've been more intent now minding my play and I've noticed I don't know how to play a good sized to big stack in the middle late stages at all. I'm over active/over confident/and something else as well. I think. This is the real spot for some more analysis.
Best news for me is I'm very excited to be starting 'Home School Poker' with a group of players I respect. It will be good to work on the game in a very focused way with like-minded mates. Much better chance of improving my game than my former group of Sharkscope, Playerscope and me.
Tuesday 5 June 2012
Hooray for Holidays!
CaptainGee is on holiday...hehehe.... so this week I've had a clear run at it. I played mostly on the weekend as at the moment I have Saturday and Sunday off. For many years I've worked six days a week, so having that extra night's play without the distraction of 'geez I hope this doesn't go late, I have to be up so early!' left me very relaxed and eager to play.
Friday night, though, was a non-poker night. The local band I've been on about, Walking On Cars, had their first gig in town since winning their slot on the RedBull festival tour. I'll just say it was MIGHTY. I didn't miss poker for even one second while singing along to every song and being jostled by biological teenagers (I am often a transcendental teenager when listening to music that gets me).
On rousing myself Saturday morning(ish), I only had to down a couple of cups of coffee before digging in to my first MTT. But even better than the caffeine, I could feel this challenge as an uberboost to my game. I felt really focused - no spazzing about losing chips with 'I think I hope I want him to have nothing here!' sorts of behavior I can get into. Results started showing in my second MTT. I continued feeling sharp on Sunday.
I'm really trying to isolate and identify my senses in this - because playing 'ON' like this feels very different to times when I'm at my lesser game. I have different responses to similar situations, one is correct and one is... stupid. Of course that is not neccessarily reflected in the results. It's just what I know about how I'm making decisions.
I feel a burn when a bad decision has turned out in my favor. Don't get me wrong, I'm not giving the chips back.* I just feel a hell of a lot stronger as a poker player when I make the right decision, regardless of the outcome. One of my goals, in fact, is to play well 90% of the time, so in that 10% where I might get lucky even though I played badly I can laugh at myself: "lucky donk!" and play on with strength.
*Right now, when I realize I've played badly and gotten lucky it often actually tilts me and I can start flinging chips every which way while internally shouting 'SO THERE!'. Hmmm. I've just realized this mode as I've written it here. Aaaah, the implied odds of a blog have me smiling. (Red asterisks added in editing haha.)
Anyway, I didn't bink anything this week. In fact I didn't even final table anything. But I played well and I was happy with that.
I got a lot happier today when I looked at the playerscope.com stats. They're not up to speed with sharkscope - I think they may only update once a day maybe? But I checked them this evening, exactly one week since the challenge began, after getting a nudge by an (annoyed) interested party. (Hiya Gee! Enjoy your hols!)
Dear Occupant:
Captain Gee:
Friday night, though, was a non-poker night. The local band I've been on about, Walking On Cars, had their first gig in town since winning their slot on the RedBull festival tour. I'll just say it was MIGHTY. I didn't miss poker for even one second while singing along to every song and being jostled by biological teenagers (I am often a transcendental teenager when listening to music that gets me).
On rousing myself Saturday morning(ish), I only had to down a couple of cups of coffee before digging in to my first MTT. But even better than the caffeine, I could feel this challenge as an uberboost to my game. I felt really focused - no spazzing about losing chips with 'I think I hope I want him to have nothing here!' sorts of behavior I can get into. Results started showing in my second MTT. I continued feeling sharp on Sunday.
I'm really trying to isolate and identify my senses in this - because playing 'ON' like this feels very different to times when I'm at my lesser game. I have different responses to similar situations, one is correct and one is... stupid. Of course that is not neccessarily reflected in the results. It's just what I know about how I'm making decisions.
I feel a burn when a bad decision has turned out in my favor. Don't get me wrong, I'm not giving the chips back.* I just feel a hell of a lot stronger as a poker player when I make the right decision, regardless of the outcome. One of my goals, in fact, is to play well 90% of the time, so in that 10% where I might get lucky even though I played badly I can laugh at myself: "lucky donk!" and play on with strength.
*Right now, when I realize I've played badly and gotten lucky it often actually tilts me and I can start flinging chips every which way while internally shouting 'SO THERE!'. Hmmm. I've just realized this mode as I've written it here. Aaaah, the implied odds of a blog have me smiling. (Red asterisks added in editing haha.)
Anyway, I didn't bink anything this week. In fact I didn't even final table anything. But I played well and I was happy with that.
I got a lot happier today when I looked at the playerscope.com stats. They're not up to speed with sharkscope - I think they may only update once a day maybe? But I checked them this evening, exactly one week since the challenge began, after getting a nudge by an (annoyed) interested party. (Hiya Gee! Enjoy your hols!)
Dear Occupant:
BuyIn - 2012
| Average | Rank | Rating | Level |
|---|---|---|---|
| $7.41 |
99.74%
|
464 of 184,151 | Between $5.01 and $10.00 |
Captain Gee:
BuyIn - 2012
| Average | Rank | Rating | Level | ||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| $8.90 |
99.73%
|
479 of 184,151 | Between $5.01 and $10.00 |
Tuesday 29 May 2012
It's ON.
My reimmersion into poker was in the Hendon Mob Triple Bounty tournament tonight on Genting. Did it really have to be Omaha pot limit hi/low? (I've had a draft blog post pending for quite a while entitled 'F/O = Fucking Omahahaha'.)
It was good fun playing with the Mob bunch as always. The field was small and with only three paid I was out eighth. As is normal for me in F/O, I had to look at the hand history to figure out what happened.
At the same time as playing the tournament I was playing Mob cash, also PLO h/l. I sat with £10 and ended up with about £1.50 profit* after a couple of hours. This makes me hate Omaha games about 1% less. (yeah, yeah, I know, we hate what we don't understand. ... F/O)
The part that got my blood racing was when CaptainGee (GQRxxx) asked me 'Are you competitive?' ...
The Cap'n is a mobmate of mine. He's a talented player (I have notes on him from pre-friendly chat days) He's very amiable - not even close to being a TILTminer. But what he doesn't know, of course, is that this is a spin question for me. From earliest childhood I would cry when I won any game because it meant the game was over. I've had a quite a battle training myself to love winning at least as much as the game in poker. And then there's all the stuff with my older sister.
My sister is the sweetest, most loving, generous and honorable sister in the world. Unless you're beating her at backgammon, cards, pool, checkers, golf... you get the picture. Competition between us turned me unhappy and fast. So I found a happy balance early on in weighing my greater love for continued gaming and her greater love of winning. I found I could enjoy losing to my happy winning sister. I am grateful every day that she directed her energies away from poker.
Over the years, my sis has focused her seismic competitiveness into challenging herself. The small sample is: She climbed and summited Mount Hood last month and only recently stopped running full marathons in favour of 10k runs and under. This from a woman who's had a steel pin holding her femur (thigh bone) together since shattering it in a car accident as a teen. I walk to work every day. Takes about 4 minutes if I stop in Sheehy's for a take-away coffee. I also walk Beanie-the-dog every evening. Usually while reading my post.
So, in answer to CaptainGee's 'Are you competitive?' I answered 'Only really in poker... ?'
He told me to check out a website called http://playerscope.com/ . I was still in the tournament at this point so it took me a while to chat and play at both tables and search the site. I searched myself first obviously. I was pleased that my 2012 is looking better than my 2011. He then said '459 vs. 469'. Ok, so then I searched his name. Yep, with playing half the number of games I have played in 2012, he was rated exactly 10 players higher than I in tournament buy-ins of $5 to $10 (both our normal ranges). He proposed a £10 bet: Who would be the leader by the end of June? I said, 'Done.'
You can check out my rating in the above link. We're using the rating under the second block- Buy-In 2012. As of this minute, I am rated 469 of 179,621 players. (pause for internal applause) The Cap'n however finished higher in the tournament tonight than I did I think so I will now see if his better rating of 459 as changed...
Tick tock. Well that took a few minutes of site freeze time. He's still 459 but the records do not include the Hendon Mob Bounty tournament results yet so this could change.
Please note that 1) I am not shilling for this site and 2) It says it's an Alpha site so be patient and 3) I'm now going to post relevant SharkScope.com results as a baseline comparison, even though it won't affect my bet with the Cap'n.
As of now, our sharkscopes look like this on iPoker (Genting's network).
Okay yeah NOW I'm tilt status LOL.
Anway, the best bit about this bet with the Cap'n is that unlike my wonderful sister and her personal best challenges, in poker at least, I play best when in clear competition with other players. I played far better during the January MTT challenge on the Hendon Mob forum than I have been recently. It's as if there's a poker engine regulator that kicks in for me and I am much more attuned to plugging my leaks. Okay, I know this is only £10. But I want to WIN more than I want to just keep on playing. And that's the key for me to do my best. It's on.
* This does not include the added ev I get from this being a Hendon Mob cash table where the rake I pay counts towards me possibly owning a % of all three Mobsters in the big Grand Final Genting tournament in December. (My maths calculations aren't great, but I have finally worked out that 'earning' rake and still leaving the table with a profit is the way to go here really.)
It was good fun playing with the Mob bunch as always. The field was small and with only three paid I was out eighth. As is normal for me in F/O, I had to look at the hand history to figure out what happened.
At the same time as playing the tournament I was playing Mob cash, also PLO h/l. I sat with £10 and ended up with about £1.50 profit* after a couple of hours. This makes me hate Omaha games about 1% less. (yeah, yeah, I know, we hate what we don't understand. ... F/O)
The part that got my blood racing was when CaptainGee (GQRxxx) asked me 'Are you competitive?' ...
The Cap'n is a mobmate of mine. He's a talented player (I have notes on him from pre-friendly chat days) He's very amiable - not even close to being a TILTminer. But what he doesn't know, of course, is that this is a spin question for me. From earliest childhood I would cry when I won any game because it meant the game was over. I've had a quite a battle training myself to love winning at least as much as the game in poker. And then there's all the stuff with my older sister.
My sister is the sweetest, most loving, generous and honorable sister in the world. Unless you're beating her at backgammon, cards, pool, checkers, golf... you get the picture. Competition between us turned me unhappy and fast. So I found a happy balance early on in weighing my greater love for continued gaming and her greater love of winning. I found I could enjoy losing to my happy winning sister. I am grateful every day that she directed her energies away from poker.
Over the years, my sis has focused her seismic competitiveness into challenging herself. The small sample is: She climbed and summited Mount Hood last month and only recently stopped running full marathons in favour of 10k runs and under. This from a woman who's had a steel pin holding her femur (thigh bone) together since shattering it in a car accident as a teen. I walk to work every day. Takes about 4 minutes if I stop in Sheehy's for a take-away coffee. I also walk Beanie-the-dog every evening. Usually while reading my post.
So, in answer to CaptainGee's 'Are you competitive?' I answered 'Only really in poker... ?'
He told me to check out a website called http://playerscope.com/ . I was still in the tournament at this point so it took me a while to chat and play at both tables and search the site. I searched myself first obviously. I was pleased that my 2012 is looking better than my 2011. He then said '459 vs. 469'. Ok, so then I searched his name. Yep, with playing half the number of games I have played in 2012, he was rated exactly 10 players higher than I in tournament buy-ins of $5 to $10 (both our normal ranges). He proposed a £10 bet: Who would be the leader by the end of June? I said, 'Done.'
You can check out my rating in the above link. We're using the rating under the second block- Buy-In 2012. As of this minute, I am rated 469 of 179,621 players. (pause for internal applause) The Cap'n however finished higher in the tournament tonight than I did I think so I will now see if his better rating of 459 as changed...
Tick tock. Well that took a few minutes of site freeze time. He's still 459 but the records do not include the Hendon Mob Bounty tournament results yet so this could change.
Please note that 1) I am not shilling for this site and 2) It says it's an Alpha site so be patient and 3) I'm now going to post relevant SharkScope.com results as a baseline comparison, even though it won't affect my bet with the Cap'n.
As of now, our sharkscopes look like this on iPoker (Genting's network).
|
Okay yeah NOW I'm tilt status LOL.
Anway, the best bit about this bet with the Cap'n is that unlike my wonderful sister and her personal best challenges, in poker at least, I play best when in clear competition with other players. I played far better during the January MTT challenge on the Hendon Mob forum than I have been recently. It's as if there's a poker engine regulator that kicks in for me and I am much more attuned to plugging my leaks. Okay, I know this is only £10. But I want to WIN more than I want to just keep on playing. And that's the key for me to do my best. It's on.
* This does not include the added ev I get from this being a Hendon Mob cash table where the rake I pay counts towards me possibly owning a % of all three Mobsters in the big Grand Final Genting tournament in December. (My maths calculations aren't great, but I have finally worked out that 'earning' rake and still leaving the table with a profit is the way to go here really.)
Saturday 26 May 2012
side tracked by walking on cars
So I'm meant to be playing tournaments, but the soundtrack of my life keeps interrupting.
This local band of twenty-somethings... who I've known in one form or another since they were reckless teens - the members of Walking on Cars.
www.redbullbedroomjam.ie/band/walking-on-cars/
Just the fact that they've made something beautiful out of their existence here in a small town in Ireland would have me hooked. Most of our teenagers seem to emigrate or dissolve. But really, if I just found their music accidentally, I would download it and play it.
So, those two things being combined, I've become obsessed with backing them because they're in this redbull contest and it could change their lives. The contest ends in a couple of days so I'm sure I'll be able to focus again by the next Hendon Mob Bounty Tournament. But in the mean time, I've just got their myspace playlist on play and I created a new twitter account to up them (so I don't annoy my poker mates).
In tribe terms, for Walking On Cars, I'm all-in.
This local band of twenty-somethings... who I've known in one form or another since they were reckless teens - the members of Walking on Cars.
www.redbullbedroomjam.ie/band/walking-on-cars/
Just the fact that they've made something beautiful out of their existence here in a small town in Ireland would have me hooked. Most of our teenagers seem to emigrate or dissolve. But really, if I just found their music accidentally, I would download it and play it.
So, those two things being combined, I've become obsessed with backing them because they're in this redbull contest and it could change their lives. The contest ends in a couple of days so I'm sure I'll be able to focus again by the next Hendon Mob Bounty Tournament. But in the mean time, I've just got their myspace playlist on play and I created a new twitter account to up them (so I don't annoy my poker mates).
In tribe terms, for Walking On Cars, I'm all-in.
Monday 21 May 2012
Nettled
I went out in level 16 (240/700 100 ante) ending up 113th of 234. I feel good about the way I played barring two back to back hands early on. (AK wtf?!? ... Ugh. Go to the Hendon Mob Forum thread here if you want to see the details of this . http://www.thehendonmob.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=43529)
When I busted, shoving pocket 6's from under the gun with 13BB and failing to suck out on the big blind's pocket 10's, seeing the standard peppy needle of the old pop-up box 'You have finished in xxx place. Would you like to play again?' wouldn't even be a paper cut if it was a $5 rebuy - just standard MTT variance. But because of my lack of attention to important detail - too focused on getting into a game, any game, as opposed to the right game - I admit I'm feeling the sting of losing 6 rebuy T's in a row (the equivalent of my investment in this one). I'm reminded of the time I plucked a sprig of mint from a healthy hillside patch on a glorious spring day and held it to my nose to breathe deeply the lovely scent only to discover it was a baby nettle.
In fairness, the nettle incident was MUCH more painful. But this event was twingey enough for me to learn this lesson: Read the entire fecking tournament description! But also, I actually feel pretty good. I really love the fact that tilt played no part in the tournament for me. I'm quite good at salting my own wounds and so making things that much more difficult for myself. But that critical masochist voice didn't even mumble "donk" once and I found myself really able to enjoy this tournament and focus on playing my best. The only voice that chirped once in a while throughout play was the eternal optimist: 'If I can go really deep this would be a GREAT story!'. Well, maybe next time.
When I busted, shoving pocket 6's from under the gun with 13BB and failing to suck out on the big blind's pocket 10's, seeing the standard peppy needle of the old pop-up box 'You have finished in xxx place. Would you like to play again?' wouldn't even be a paper cut if it was a $5 rebuy - just standard MTT variance. But because of my lack of attention to important detail - too focused on getting into a game, any game, as opposed to the right game - I admit I'm feeling the sting of losing 6 rebuy T's in a row (the equivalent of my investment in this one). I'm reminded of the time I plucked a sprig of mint from a healthy hillside patch on a glorious spring day and held it to my nose to breathe deeply the lovely scent only to discover it was a baby nettle.
In fairness, the nettle incident was MUCH more painful. But this event was twingey enough for me to learn this lesson: Read the entire fecking tournament description! But also, I actually feel pretty good. I really love the fact that tilt played no part in the tournament for me. I'm quite good at salting my own wounds and so making things that much more difficult for myself. But that critical masochist voice didn't even mumble "donk" once and I found myself really able to enjoy this tournament and focus on playing my best. The only voice that chirped once in a while throughout play was the eternal optimist: 'If I can go really deep this would be a GREAT story!'. Well, maybe next time.
FOCUS?
So tonight, I decided to take a chance on myself as I feel like I've been playing really well the last few days and been very focused. After browsing the available tournaments I regged for the $30 15k guaranteed on Genting. I have a good record in the $5 rebuy and always invest $15 in this, so I figured I'd like to try this much smaller field (under 200 when I regged) for only double the price.
A couple of minutes in, after scanning the players at my table to see if I'd any notes on them, I noticed the bright red rebuy rectangle on the chip tray.
So.... there's focus and then there's FOCUS. >__>
As it stands now, we're on level 9, just over an hour and a half in and I have an average stack. I decided I had to play this as I would my normal Rebuy T's or else I was throwing my first buy in away so I've played it like the fiver's and bought in, topped up and added on for a total investment of $93. But I'm looking at is as my normal 3. We'll see how it goes.
A couple of minutes in, after scanning the players at my table to see if I'd any notes on them, I noticed the bright red rebuy rectangle on the chip tray.
So.... there's focus and then there's FOCUS. >__>
As it stands now, we're on level 9, just over an hour and a half in and I have an average stack. I decided I had to play this as I would my normal Rebuy T's or else I was throwing my first buy in away so I've played it like the fiver's and bought in, topped up and added on for a total investment of $93. But I'm looking at is as my normal 3. We'll see how it goes.
Saturday 19 May 2012
CAFFEINE JUNKIE
I've played very few of my regular tournaments in the last six weeks. All the Hendon Mob events of course, but almost none of my 'bread and butter' $5 mtts. Instead I've been spending my time and bankroll playing Mob cash on Genting. I've always enjoyed the Wednesday night Mob cash games, but they've a new promo that adds an extra jolt of cards caffeine with the chance of owning 30% of all three mobsters, Joe Beevers, Barny Boatman and Ross Boatman in the December Genting Poker Series Championship. (There was talk of a new series of picture books titled 'Where's Ram?' but he refused to wear the stripey shirt for the photos.)
These mobster cash tables are great fun with lots of banter and definitely lots of action. But this is stupid fun for me because I have virtually no experience at Omaha or cash and I've yet to figure out how to have a good laugh and learn at the same time. It worked all right when it was once a week because the rest of the time I played my mtt schedule and was quite happy setting aside a slice of my weekly winnings for my evening of hanging out with the boys. Now, I haven't had a totally dry six weeks - a couple of weeks ago I had a decent cash in the Women's Sunday on Stars along with a couple of lesser hits, so my bankroll's not down. But after this week's cash play it just hit me: I've gone off on a side road full of potholes and I've just spotted a battered 'DEAD END' sign. What am I thinking?!
I realized I've been in serious withdrawal really. I had such a brilliant time in London beyond the GPS Fox tournament:
Playing cash with Monty (Pizzicatto).
Dim Sum with the Hoodie Hero Dave (DCSW7) and Evie and Darren(sprengers).
Railing Phil (DrOptheHammer), Nick (Ripple11/22) and especially Monty to the bittersweet end of his cash in the GPS main.
Playing a GPS side event with Dave and Monty and getting (yee-haw!) a Hendon Mob site flag.
Talking poker all the time. Being with my tribe. Each individual so very different of course, but it's definitely a tribe.
So here I am back in the Wesht of Ireland and the only contact I have with my tribe is online. But my focus is wrong. The online experience is like a cup of instant coffee. No comparison to the espresso of being there.
So, I booked my hotel for the IPO. And I've started playing the good old $5 mtt's again. I've got my focus back and I'm doing what got me to London in the first place. I'd love if I get a good run going and get to an event or two before the IPO, but that's the reward I'm granting myself for now.
I'll still play in the Mob cash games of course. But I've reversed off that side road and I'm back on the one that has signposts to better possibilities. Like another flag or two even.
http://pokerdb.thehendonmob.com/player.php?a=r&n=232628
These mobster cash tables are great fun with lots of banter and definitely lots of action. But this is stupid fun for me because I have virtually no experience at Omaha or cash and I've yet to figure out how to have a good laugh and learn at the same time. It worked all right when it was once a week because the rest of the time I played my mtt schedule and was quite happy setting aside a slice of my weekly winnings for my evening of hanging out with the boys. Now, I haven't had a totally dry six weeks - a couple of weeks ago I had a decent cash in the Women's Sunday on Stars along with a couple of lesser hits, so my bankroll's not down. But after this week's cash play it just hit me: I've gone off on a side road full of potholes and I've just spotted a battered 'DEAD END' sign. What am I thinking?!
I realized I've been in serious withdrawal really. I had such a brilliant time in London beyond the GPS Fox tournament:
Playing cash with Monty (Pizzicatto).
Dim Sum with the Hoodie Hero Dave (DCSW7) and Evie and Darren(sprengers).
Railing Phil (DrOptheHammer), Nick (Ripple11/22) and especially Monty to the bittersweet end of his cash in the GPS main.
Playing a GPS side event with Dave and Monty and getting (yee-haw!) a Hendon Mob site flag.
Talking poker all the time. Being with my tribe. Each individual so very different of course, but it's definitely a tribe.
So here I am back in the Wesht of Ireland and the only contact I have with my tribe is online. But my focus is wrong. The online experience is like a cup of instant coffee. No comparison to the espresso of being there.
So, I booked my hotel for the IPO. And I've started playing the good old $5 mtt's again. I've got my focus back and I'm doing what got me to London in the first place. I'd love if I get a good run going and get to an event or two before the IPO, but that's the reward I'm granting myself for now.
I'll still play in the Mob cash games of course. But I've reversed off that side road and I'm back on the one that has signposts to better possibilities. Like another flag or two even.
http://pokerdb.thehendonmob.com/player.php?a=r&n=232628
Wednesday 9 May 2012
END OF THE HENDON MOB FORUM SERIES 8
I have some more to write about my poker trip to London but all I can think of at the moment (and for the last few days) is the culmination of the Hendon Mob Forum League series 8.
I didn't make it into the top points earners to qualify for the playoff that ran last night. AKhater took it down. I'm very happy for him and I know he's a worthy winner of the WSOP package the Mob offered up. The heads up between PigeonJingle and AKhater was fingerprints-in-the-dashboard time.
Tonight was the loyalty event - with the self-esteem boosting name of The Ironman tournament. Forum players who had played at least 29 of the 30 league games were qualified to compete for this $2000 package to the Palm Beach Big Game. I was one of the 29 players who lost to the excellent play of DroptheHammer. The heads up between Grumbledook and DTH tonight was mighty. It lasted quite a long time and seemed like it could go on until next year's league start time.
Watching both tournaments was gut-wrenching to be honest. Not because I wasn't in the running. But because I never realized how difficult my mob tournament railing life would become once I got to know and meet other forum players. I'm grateful for their pmsl banter and honour. And I count myself lucky that it seems I can always find a reason to be happy for the winner. Losing to this field is always a consolation.
All that sincere gushiness aside, however, my goal was to crush them all and dance on their graves. Better luck/play next time to me.
I didn't make it into the top points earners to qualify for the playoff that ran last night. AKhater took it down. I'm very happy for him and I know he's a worthy winner of the WSOP package the Mob offered up. The heads up between PigeonJingle and AKhater was fingerprints-in-the-dashboard time.
Tonight was the loyalty event - with the self-esteem boosting name of The Ironman tournament. Forum players who had played at least 29 of the 30 league games were qualified to compete for this $2000 package to the Palm Beach Big Game. I was one of the 29 players who lost to the excellent play of DroptheHammer. The heads up between Grumbledook and DTH tonight was mighty. It lasted quite a long time and seemed like it could go on until next year's league start time.
Watching both tournaments was gut-wrenching to be honest. Not because I wasn't in the running. But because I never realized how difficult my mob tournament railing life would become once I got to know and meet other forum players. I'm grateful for their pmsl banter and honour. And I count myself lucky that it seems I can always find a reason to be happy for the winner. Losing to this field is always a consolation.
All that sincere gushiness aside, however, my goal was to crush them all and dance on their graves. Better luck/play next time to me.
Monday 30 April 2012
GPS leg 2 Fox TV table part 2
I feel the need to break out of the narrative just for a moment. I've been posting this experience breath by breath for three reasons: I want to remember exactly how my first live tournament really felt by reading this when I'm old, grey and want to bore even the golfers; I want my supportive-yet-mystified friends and family to really get me that bit more; and I have hopes that noobs like me will find this helpful in some way.
Now that's said:
I find when I return to my former table to collect my chips that it's actually my current and future table - livestream here I go again. I feel disappointed but much less daunted than when I first sat down two hours ago. Not much to report here except when I fell afoul of the rules. Sort of. I stepped away from my seat to text my friend Nat again "They didn't move me! :( At least I can wave to mAoife!". I see the new dealer finishing the shuffle and step back to my seat and place my hand on the back of my chair, scrolling down to 'send' on my phone. I see I don't get my first card and say 'Hey!?' to the dealer. He says, "you weren't at your seat." I say, "I'm clearly at my seat!" He says, "You weren't in your seat." Cards are finished dealing at this point. I flump into my seat grumbling weakly "First dealer said AT the seat. Even you said AT the seat before you changed it!". New not-a-chance-I-can-like-him dealer doesn't reply. After a few moments of internal grousing I feel WONDERFUL because I am not even close to crying!
I have to say this is the only time I'm landed on uneven ground by way of dealers/rules. Though in some ways I wish I'd called the floor to find the ultimate "AT v. IN" ruling, I elected to make sure I was always IN after this. (I did witness 'AT' being good enough plenty of times over the next many hours and never saw an issue about this again for what it's worth.) I settle in and the rest of the time at this table is uneventful for me.
After four hours of play, my TV table does indeed finally break.
Things I've learned so far:
= Jac Arama is of course a real human being person with a kids he loves and everything. (Still a brutal player to have on your left though.)
= Stowjon was missing from breaks because he was out and playing cash.
= The massive turn-out had confused procedures for Genting staff a bit what with the two venues and the announcements betwixt and between.
= It really was just like the Hendom Mob forum league games. Mostly.
By the dinner break I'm feeling much more comfortable in my skin and more able to play poker now that the unruly crowd of mad thoughts flinging rotten tomatoes my way has tired out. I have a wonderfully relaxing dinner break with Nick (Ripple22) and Joe (Beevers) with some truly inspiring poker conversation which I won't forget (and won't share any time soon- wahaha it's mine, all mine for now!).
Pardon the expression, but it could be that the urge to 'not be a pussy wallflower' feeling can hit at the wrong time...maybe. Sometime after 9pm and 8+ hours of play, I decide that I'm being run over and the message "BE STRONG." thumps into my head. So, I ship it all with AQoff in late position with 18 BB against a mid position standard sized raise by...? It's a blanket 'Take me seriously!' beligerance that's come over me. I have no read on the guy or the play whatsoever and he has me covered. Shove for my tournament life with AQoff here? I know in my regular tourneys online I'd consider very many more factors before I shove than I did here. At least one more factor than '...grrrr!' The only reason the 'maybe' enters the picture is that I know I have a leaky tendency to 'BE SAFE' my chips away. But not tonight!
Anyway, original raiser calls my all in with QQ. Nothing helps and I'm out.
As I stand up from the table and hear the dealer shout "SEAT OPEN!" maybe I should feel gutted. But what I actually feel is... strong. And stupid. But yes, definitely gutted. 18BBs! Not 12 or 10 but 18! With many hands to see before the blinds hit me again! I didn't even look to see if a level change was coming! But, then again, salve to my wound if not really healing: 18BBs wasn't anywhere near average stack. I went out fighting, I didn't limp to an 'at least I made day 2' finish line.
It then occurs to me that I'm exiting at approximately the same time as I arrived at the Fox the night before to see Joe Beevers being eliminated from day 1a. Betcha he wasn't blinded out.
And so I find some perspective before the seat formerly-known-as-mine is even filled. I hear Grampa Arthur's voice very clearly, "Hey, you did alright. Time for a beer, kid." Of course, according to him, I was always pretty much alright no matter what I was up to. He was just that kind of guy. I do go get a bottle of beer and settle in to being out. I lurk around the tables trying to see who's still in that I know. Quite a few. I mull over what it'll be like coming back to rail tomorrow for the final day 1 and then day 2 and...
A whispered chant starts in my head: "re-buy". I'm unsure. I picture Grampa Arthur reaching up under his cap to scratch his head and he says, "I don't know tournaments, kid. I'm regular poker." The chant swells to a shout. I'm in London for 3 more days and I just want to live and breathe poker, and my poker is the irregular kind - tournament poker.
As I walk to the cashier to re-buy I feel him smile and shrug and say "Ok kid. See you later."
I stand holding my re-buy receipt and look around the room. I realize there's no one speaking in my head. Sure, if I look for him, Grampa Arthur will lift his cap in a wave but, really, I've stepped out on my own. And it feels right. A little bit 'gambly', but alright. I couldn't care less about sunny holidays with siestas and beautiful landmarks to see and romantic music in the air. I want to spend my time in over-crowded spot-lit rooms suffering neverending temperature issues filled with mostly cranky men and their 'issues'... as long as there are cards in the air.
Now that's said:
I find when I return to my former table to collect my chips that it's actually my current and future table - livestream here I go again. I feel disappointed but much less daunted than when I first sat down two hours ago. Not much to report here except when I fell afoul of the rules. Sort of. I stepped away from my seat to text my friend Nat again "They didn't move me! :( At least I can wave to mAoife!". I see the new dealer finishing the shuffle and step back to my seat and place my hand on the back of my chair, scrolling down to 'send' on my phone. I see I don't get my first card and say 'Hey!?' to the dealer. He says, "you weren't at your seat." I say, "I'm clearly at my seat!" He says, "You weren't in your seat." Cards are finished dealing at this point. I flump into my seat grumbling weakly "First dealer said AT the seat. Even you said AT the seat before you changed it!". New not-a-chance-I-can-like-him dealer doesn't reply. After a few moments of internal grousing I feel WONDERFUL because I am not even close to crying!
I have to say this is the only time I'm landed on uneven ground by way of dealers/rules. Though in some ways I wish I'd called the floor to find the ultimate "AT v. IN" ruling, I elected to make sure I was always IN after this. (I did witness 'AT' being good enough plenty of times over the next many hours and never saw an issue about this again for what it's worth.) I settle in and the rest of the time at this table is uneventful for me.
After four hours of play, my TV table does indeed finally break.
Things I've learned so far:
= Jac Arama is of course a real human being person with a kids he loves and everything. (Still a brutal player to have on your left though.)
= Stowjon was missing from breaks because he was out and playing cash.
= The massive turn-out had confused procedures for Genting staff a bit what with the two venues and the announcements betwixt and between.
= It really was just like the Hendom Mob forum league games. Mostly.
By the dinner break I'm feeling much more comfortable in my skin and more able to play poker now that the unruly crowd of mad thoughts flinging rotten tomatoes my way has tired out. I have a wonderfully relaxing dinner break with Nick (Ripple22) and Joe (Beevers) with some truly inspiring poker conversation which I won't forget (and won't share any time soon- wahaha it's mine, all mine for now!).
Pardon the expression, but it could be that the urge to 'not be a pussy wallflower' feeling can hit at the wrong time...maybe. Sometime after 9pm and 8+ hours of play, I decide that I'm being run over and the message "BE STRONG." thumps into my head. So, I ship it all with AQoff in late position with 18 BB against a mid position standard sized raise by...? It's a blanket 'Take me seriously!' beligerance that's come over me. I have no read on the guy or the play whatsoever and he has me covered. Shove for my tournament life with AQoff here? I know in my regular tourneys online I'd consider very many more factors before I shove than I did here. At least one more factor than '...grrrr!' The only reason the 'maybe' enters the picture is that I know I have a leaky tendency to 'BE SAFE' my chips away. But not tonight!
Anyway, original raiser calls my all in with QQ. Nothing helps and I'm out.
As I stand up from the table and hear the dealer shout "SEAT OPEN!" maybe I should feel gutted. But what I actually feel is... strong. And stupid. But yes, definitely gutted. 18BBs! Not 12 or 10 but 18! With many hands to see before the blinds hit me again! I didn't even look to see if a level change was coming! But, then again, salve to my wound if not really healing: 18BBs wasn't anywhere near average stack. I went out fighting, I didn't limp to an 'at least I made day 2' finish line.
It then occurs to me that I'm exiting at approximately the same time as I arrived at the Fox the night before to see Joe Beevers being eliminated from day 1a. Betcha he wasn't blinded out.
And so I find some perspective before the seat formerly-known-as-mine is even filled. I hear Grampa Arthur's voice very clearly, "Hey, you did alright. Time for a beer, kid." Of course, according to him, I was always pretty much alright no matter what I was up to. He was just that kind of guy. I do go get a bottle of beer and settle in to being out. I lurk around the tables trying to see who's still in that I know. Quite a few. I mull over what it'll be like coming back to rail tomorrow for the final day 1 and then day 2 and...
A whispered chant starts in my head: "re-buy". I'm unsure. I picture Grampa Arthur reaching up under his cap to scratch his head and he says, "I don't know tournaments, kid. I'm regular poker." The chant swells to a shout. I'm in London for 3 more days and I just want to live and breathe poker, and my poker is the irregular kind - tournament poker.
As I walk to the cashier to re-buy I feel him smile and shrug and say "Ok kid. See you later."
I stand holding my re-buy receipt and look around the room. I realize there's no one speaking in my head. Sure, if I look for him, Grampa Arthur will lift his cap in a wave but, really, I've stepped out on my own. And it feels right. A little bit 'gambly', but alright. I couldn't care less about sunny holidays with siestas and beautiful landmarks to see and romantic music in the air. I want to spend my time in over-crowded spot-lit rooms suffering neverending temperature issues filled with mostly cranky men and their 'issues'... as long as there are cards in the air.
GPS leg 2 Fox TV table
The dealer is very friendly as he tells us the standard rules and the extra TV table rules. As an avid follower of the 'You are the Tournament Director' (YATTD) series on The Hendon Mob forum (http://www.thehendonmob.com/tournament_director5/) I listen very carefully. The dealer stresses most the new crackdown on acting out of turn: automatic two hand penalty. The main rule different for the TV table is there is no use of phones or other devices while seated at the table. He also says each player must be at their seat before the first card is dealt. I clarify "In the seat or at the seat?" He answers "At your seat." Most of the other players, all of whom seem like old hands at this to me, just continue what they're doing and occasionally nod as the dealer speaks. They remind me of airline passengers pfaffing about while the flight attendants go through their safety spiel.
Jac Arama is the first to act out of turn. He only mildly protests the penalty. He also walks all over me and my scared chips. He's in every pot and takes most of them down quickly enough as evidenced by his growing stacks of ante chips. He's quite good fun, though I feel like a cartoon character - the clueless runty dog who keeps smiling and slavering 'yeah, yeah, yeah, yes sir Ace!' while the smiling St. Bernard takes all his food.
Inside me the panic tide is rising though. I still haven't adjusted to being where I am. Early on I stepped away from the table to text my mate Nat back in Ireland "AUGH! I'm on the fucking TV table!!!". She sent reassuring messages back: "You know I don't understand poker but you look like you belong there." and from my favorite 2 year old, her baby girl Aoife, "What's Aunty D doing??". Really, what was I doing? Just being the haddock at the table. Throughout this early bit I've had several visits from the brilliant Mob group- speaking very supportive words and trying to focus me. Joe Beevers came by and said, "You can do this. Just pretend you're playing the league." Bogus (Mob forum royalty to me) got eye to eye with me and said much the same with equal certainty. I knew what they meant and I knew they were right, but my mind had gone mutiny on the bounty - it shouted: "But I'm sucking in the league right now!!!"
But as the first break nears, I get Joe and Bogus' and what feels like the whole Hendon Mob forum's feet under me. I know I should've been able to stand on my own two, but my sea legs having gone missing in action, I was glad to have theirs. Last hand before the break I'm in late position and look at AJ suited. I open 3x. Jac Arama re-raises. I dig their feet in and 3bet. Jac folds and starts gathering his things for the break, chatting away to me as if it's just another day.
I'm deaf to all he says. I go semi-hysterical inside at this monumental moment and race away from the table to please god make the ladies room before I burst into tears. Steps from that refuge I run smack into Danny (AKhater on the forum). Literally run smack into him. He asks "Hey, how's it going?" I duly burst into those tears, apologize, explain that I actually won the last hand, but it's just too much, bit overwhelmed ha ha. Ugh. He's very kind, mutters sincere words of comfort and leaves me to compose myself in the skirt room.
I splash cold water on my wrists and laugh into my tear-stained face in the mirror. (This is the only time I'm grateful there are so few women playing poker as the ladies room is deserted.) I'm mocking myself picturing Joe Beevers, Barny Boatman, Phil Ivey, Phil Galfond, ANY of the poker players I admire as they run tearfully from a card room- having won a hand no less. Fucksakes, I can't even picture the most-likely-to-cry-of-the-poker-players-I-admire Victoria Coren being the mess I am now. Gradually I'm more laughing than crying and the hysteria ebbs away.
I go downstairs to meet the lads on the pavement of Shaftsbury Avenue. Most smoking, some actually getting fresh air. We catch up with how everyone's doing. Leon (X on the forum http://xpokerdiary.blogspot.com/), Danny (AKhater) with Monty (Pizzicato) and Ian (Brodders) in there too. I'm really settling down now. We talk about the harshness of Darren (darrensprengers) being stuck at the awkward side tables of the tournament at another site. We wonder where StowJon is. I'm feeling more like a poker player again. As we walk back upstairs we chat about how I'm bound to be moved because the TV table normally breaks every break.
No such luck.
Jac Arama is the first to act out of turn. He only mildly protests the penalty. He also walks all over me and my scared chips. He's in every pot and takes most of them down quickly enough as evidenced by his growing stacks of ante chips. He's quite good fun, though I feel like a cartoon character - the clueless runty dog who keeps smiling and slavering 'yeah, yeah, yeah, yes sir Ace!' while the smiling St. Bernard takes all his food.
Inside me the panic tide is rising though. I still haven't adjusted to being where I am. Early on I stepped away from the table to text my mate Nat back in Ireland "AUGH! I'm on the fucking TV table!!!". She sent reassuring messages back: "You know I don't understand poker but you look like you belong there." and from my favorite 2 year old, her baby girl Aoife, "What's Aunty D doing??". Really, what was I doing? Just being the haddock at the table. Throughout this early bit I've had several visits from the brilliant Mob group- speaking very supportive words and trying to focus me. Joe Beevers came by and said, "You can do this. Just pretend you're playing the league." Bogus (Mob forum royalty to me) got eye to eye with me and said much the same with equal certainty. I knew what they meant and I knew they were right, but my mind had gone mutiny on the bounty - it shouted: "But I'm sucking in the league right now!!!"
But as the first break nears, I get Joe and Bogus' and what feels like the whole Hendon Mob forum's feet under me. I know I should've been able to stand on my own two, but my sea legs having gone missing in action, I was glad to have theirs. Last hand before the break I'm in late position and look at AJ suited. I open 3x. Jac Arama re-raises. I dig their feet in and 3bet. Jac folds and starts gathering his things for the break, chatting away to me as if it's just another day.
I'm deaf to all he says. I go semi-hysterical inside at this monumental moment and race away from the table to please god make the ladies room before I burst into tears. Steps from that refuge I run smack into Danny (AKhater on the forum). Literally run smack into him. He asks "Hey, how's it going?" I duly burst into those tears, apologize, explain that I actually won the last hand, but it's just too much, bit overwhelmed ha ha. Ugh. He's very kind, mutters sincere words of comfort and leaves me to compose myself in the skirt room.
I splash cold water on my wrists and laugh into my tear-stained face in the mirror. (This is the only time I'm grateful there are so few women playing poker as the ladies room is deserted.) I'm mocking myself picturing Joe Beevers, Barny Boatman, Phil Ivey, Phil Galfond, ANY of the poker players I admire as they run tearfully from a card room- having won a hand no less. Fucksakes, I can't even picture the most-likely-to-cry-of-the-poker-players-I-admire Victoria Coren being the mess I am now. Gradually I'm more laughing than crying and the hysteria ebbs away.
I go downstairs to meet the lads on the pavement of Shaftsbury Avenue. Most smoking, some actually getting fresh air. We catch up with how everyone's doing. Leon (X on the forum http://xpokerdiary.blogspot.com/), Danny (AKhater) with Monty (Pizzicato) and Ian (Brodders) in there too. I'm really settling down now. We talk about the harshness of Darren (darrensprengers) being stuck at the awkward side tables of the tournament at another site. We wonder where StowJon is. I'm feeling more like a poker player again. As we walk back upstairs we chat about how I'm bound to be moved because the TV table normally breaks every break.
No such luck.
Saturday 28 April 2012
March 29, 2012 GPS leg 2 FOX
The Hendon Mob Forum (THMF) poster who is most kindly persistent for a pre-tournament meet up is Stowjon. He is Mr. 'I'm not f*~!?! short' but still undeniably ginger. According to texting arrangements, I arrive outside the Fox just before 12:30pm - tournament start time is 1:00pm. In fact, I arrive quite a bit earlier, thinking to get a meal in, but food service doesn't start in the poker room until 12:30pm so I grab a ready-made egg mayonaise sandwich from the caf down the road. I eat half of it at their tables outside, basking in the glorious sunny day (it IS the end of March so warmth and sunshine really do qualify as glorious).
Minutes later, I stand at the bottom of the Fox steps (yes, again- I now regard this as part of my comfort zone). I know Jon is delayed having received f!*%g traffic texts etc. A few minutes later I identify him immediately as he walks down Shaftsbury Avenue toward the club. My first thought is: he really isn't that f!*?/g short. This whole time I've been picturing your man the dwarf from Lord of the Rings and Jon clearly doesn't have to strain to reach up and shake my hand. In reality, he's quite the gent in a chatban trenchcoat.
We proceed upstairs and order coffee. Jon graciously takes the host role and all joking aside about him buying our free coffees, solely because of Jon I feel that bit more grounded. Though I must admit the timeline gets a bit blurry for me from this point. I know he introduces me to other THMFrs and I remember who I meet that first day, but I'm really unclear in which order and when. SeanFoley (Gary), X (Leon) and AKhater (Danny) are among the first. Then it is finally table draw time and all the fellas are so kind to pretend they don't feel the drag on their coat-tails as I struggle to understand the screen.
I go searching for my table and find it. I want to cry. I'm on the 'TV' table to start the day. No chatban way! This is not on! I can't do this! This is my first big live tournament and the fecking poker god clowns have put me on the live-stream table?! In middle position where I can't be free of public scrutiny ever?!!?
As I'm trying to pretend that I'm not a pinball machine run over by a soul-taken bulldozer driven by Stephen King, the player to my direct left arrives to take his seat. Oh. Excellent. Jac Arama. Genuine broadcast television's Late Night Poker funny glasses madmeister. No time to adjust to that as the dealer tells us the special TV table rules. Cue grey cloud descending over my brain. I think in literature they call it a 'fug'. I think in this instance they left out the CKIN and also the HELL on the end.
I have no plan for this.
The Hendon Mob Forum (THMF) poster who is most kindly persistent for a pre-tournament meet up is Stowjon. He is Mr. 'I'm not f*~!?! short' but still undeniably ginger. According to texting arrangements, I arrive outside the Fox just before 12:30pm - tournament start time is 1:00pm. In fact, I arrive quite a bit earlier, thinking to get a meal in, but food service doesn't start in the poker room until 12:30pm so I grab a ready-made egg mayonaise sandwich from the caf down the road. I eat half of it at their tables outside, basking in the glorious sunny day (it IS the end of March so warmth and sunshine really do qualify as glorious).
Minutes later, I stand at the bottom of the Fox steps (yes, again- I now regard this as part of my comfort zone). I know Jon is delayed having received f!*%g traffic texts etc. A few minutes later I identify him immediately as he walks down Shaftsbury Avenue toward the club. My first thought is: he really isn't that f!*?/g short. This whole time I've been picturing your man the dwarf from Lord of the Rings and Jon clearly doesn't have to strain to reach up and shake my hand. In reality, he's quite the gent in a chatban trenchcoat.
We proceed upstairs and order coffee. Jon graciously takes the host role and all joking aside about him buying our free coffees, solely because of Jon I feel that bit more grounded. Though I must admit the timeline gets a bit blurry for me from this point. I know he introduces me to other THMFrs and I remember who I meet that first day, but I'm really unclear in which order and when. SeanFoley (Gary), X (Leon) and AKhater (Danny) are among the first. Then it is finally table draw time and all the fellas are so kind to pretend they don't feel the drag on their coat-tails as I struggle to understand the screen.
I go searching for my table and find it. I want to cry. I'm on the 'TV' table to start the day. No chatban way! This is not on! I can't do this! This is my first big live tournament and the fecking poker god clowns have put me on the live-stream table?! In middle position where I can't be free of public scrutiny ever?!!?
As I'm trying to pretend that I'm not a pinball machine run over by a soul-taken bulldozer driven by Stephen King, the player to my direct left arrives to take his seat. Oh. Excellent. Jac Arama. Genuine broadcast television's Late Night Poker funny glasses madmeister. No time to adjust to that as the dealer tells us the special TV table rules. Cue grey cloud descending over my brain. I think in literature they call it a 'fug'. I think in this instance they left out the CKIN and also the HELL on the end.
I have no plan for this.
Friday 20 April 2012
Some minutes later
28 March 2012 some minutes later
I had signed up on line to be a member of the Fox Poker Club many weeks previously. When I finally get myself to the top of the stairs and approach the reception desk I'm told I don't have to be a member because I've earned temporary membership via my Genting Poker Series Tournament entry. My inner whacko yells "NOOOO! I wanna be a REAL poker player!!!". I wait out my mental tantrum and politely say, "I'd like to be a full member." As the receptionist continues through my membership process, all I can hear in my head are several THMFrs laughing: 'she wants to be a full member! wah ha ha ha!' and it's when both receptionsits look up at me quizically that I realize- I've been reacting to imagined sordid jokes which they obviously can't see and I certainly can't explain.
I receive my genuine, bonafide Fox Poker Club London membership card and proceed to walk boldly down the hall. I can see only a bit of the room as I go forward. On entering the room I see several tables on my left and more tables on my right and THEY'RE ALL LOOKING AT ME! THE NOOB! I veer off to my right (just follow the path, just follow the path) and I take another right when I'm able and I end up in the toilet area. I breathe a sigh of relief. No kidding.
My head is spinning. I continue on down this hall and coming to a junction I realize that I've returned to my starting point and no way am I going to make another eejit circuit. I backtrack and see that in this hallway there exists more than toilets - Official Smoking Area FTW! It's empty and I light up to catch my breath. I silently whinge and moan to Grampa Arthur. He doesn't get what I'm on about. "It's just cards." Huh.
I reminisce... mulling over the last several lifetime minutes. The poker player in me starts to emerge. My happy monkey 'Hiya!' to Joe Beevers. A man descending the steps of a poker club where a tournament is ongoing and no one else follows. It's not a fecking break. It's the ugly 'seat open!'. I'm stunned that he had the grace to smile and speak to a random shiny face on a London avenue.
I gather myself and re-enter the room. This time I actually look around a bit. Furtively. Players, dealers, chips. Reality adjustment. Approximately a million more tables than I've ever seen in my local 'classic' tournaments. More ipads than I've ever seen in one room ever. No one, absolutely no one, cares who I am after noting that I'm not a new dealer/player at their table.
I decide I'm going to play cash. I want to acclimatize myself. I riffle my own chips at home while playing online (yes, really) but fucksakes that's my entire experience handling chips outside a Las Vegas blackjack table with JodyLee. And blackjack definitely doesn't count at a poker table. So. I present myself at the counter. Everyone is very kind as they inform me they're the Genting tournament staff and I need to go 'over there' to the cash window.
As I walk over to the cash window which sits on the edge of my rescue toilet/smoking hallway, I mull over my situation. I can't concieve of pretending that I know what I'm doing. Disaster this way lies. So when I arrive I go front street. "I'd like to play cash. How does that work please?"
To my relief they are completely accomodating. And friendly. (Meaning no one at any time makes me feel as stupid as I feel.) I sit down and hold my own. Mostly I work like a sponge: my cash table, the tournament tables, the Fox Poker Club in general.
I head back to my hotel after a couple of hours and a massive amount of observation. Some of which: It is really true that the charismatic, funny guy at the cash table makes people happy and makes money (Mike); Old guys are not necessarily the weak spots; Bar/food service here is sad and not dependent on whether one is a good tipper; real live poker is perfectly satisfying to my imagined games from my Grampa Arthur's stories.
I leave knowing I'll really be okay starting my tournament tomorrow - day 1b- as long as I avoid the TV table.
And the poker gods laugh.
I had signed up on line to be a member of the Fox Poker Club many weeks previously. When I finally get myself to the top of the stairs and approach the reception desk I'm told I don't have to be a member because I've earned temporary membership via my Genting Poker Series Tournament entry. My inner whacko yells "NOOOO! I wanna be a REAL poker player!!!". I wait out my mental tantrum and politely say, "I'd like to be a full member." As the receptionist continues through my membership process, all I can hear in my head are several THMFrs laughing: 'she wants to be a full member! wah ha ha ha!' and it's when both receptionsits look up at me quizically that I realize- I've been reacting to imagined sordid jokes which they obviously can't see and I certainly can't explain.
I receive my genuine, bonafide Fox Poker Club London membership card and proceed to walk boldly down the hall. I can see only a bit of the room as I go forward. On entering the room I see several tables on my left and more tables on my right and THEY'RE ALL LOOKING AT ME! THE NOOB! I veer off to my right (just follow the path, just follow the path) and I take another right when I'm able and I end up in the toilet area. I breathe a sigh of relief. No kidding.
My head is spinning. I continue on down this hall and coming to a junction I realize that I've returned to my starting point and no way am I going to make another eejit circuit. I backtrack and see that in this hallway there exists more than toilets - Official Smoking Area FTW! It's empty and I light up to catch my breath. I silently whinge and moan to Grampa Arthur. He doesn't get what I'm on about. "It's just cards." Huh.
I reminisce... mulling over the last several lifetime minutes. The poker player in me starts to emerge. My happy monkey 'Hiya!' to Joe Beevers. A man descending the steps of a poker club where a tournament is ongoing and no one else follows. It's not a fecking break. It's the ugly 'seat open!'. I'm stunned that he had the grace to smile and speak to a random shiny face on a London avenue.
I gather myself and re-enter the room. This time I actually look around a bit. Furtively. Players, dealers, chips. Reality adjustment. Approximately a million more tables than I've ever seen in my local 'classic' tournaments. More ipads than I've ever seen in one room ever. No one, absolutely no one, cares who I am after noting that I'm not a new dealer/player at their table.
I decide I'm going to play cash. I want to acclimatize myself. I riffle my own chips at home while playing online (yes, really) but fucksakes that's my entire experience handling chips outside a Las Vegas blackjack table with JodyLee. And blackjack definitely doesn't count at a poker table. So. I present myself at the counter. Everyone is very kind as they inform me they're the Genting tournament staff and I need to go 'over there' to the cash window.
As I walk over to the cash window which sits on the edge of my rescue toilet/smoking hallway, I mull over my situation. I can't concieve of pretending that I know what I'm doing. Disaster this way lies. So when I arrive I go front street. "I'd like to play cash. How does that work please?"
To my relief they are completely accomodating. And friendly. (Meaning no one at any time makes me feel as stupid as I feel.) I sit down and hold my own. Mostly I work like a sponge: my cash table, the tournament tables, the Fox Poker Club in general.
I head back to my hotel after a couple of hours and a massive amount of observation. Some of which: It is really true that the charismatic, funny guy at the cash table makes people happy and makes money (Mike); Old guys are not necessarily the weak spots; Bar/food service here is sad and not dependent on whether one is a good tipper; real live poker is perfectly satisfying to my imagined games from my Grampa Arthur's stories.
I leave knowing I'll really be okay starting my tournament tomorrow - day 1b- as long as I avoid the TV table.
And the poker gods laugh.
Naivite survives
28 MARCH 2012
I stand at the foot of the staircase leading up to the Fox Poker Club in London. I focus on my breathing. My mental dialogue goes like this:
"This is it! I'm here! I found it! I made it! I'm so excited!... I CAN'T GO IN!!!"
Random panic memories flood my mind, the most gut-wrenching on auto repeat:
Several years ago, my beloved JodyLee (who understands and supports (!) my poker dreams) gives me a $300 bankroll, takes me to her local Indian casino and says "Go!". I walk through the door and pause to get my bearings and sit at the nearest one arm bandit to center myself. Some sort of Egyptian Treasure claptrap. I keep glancing at the poker room doorway, willing myself to get up and walk. I sit. And I sit. After several hours I get up and ring JodyLee. Time to leave. I'm bust and I hate myself just a little bit.
So, here I am at the foot of the Fox Poker Club stairs. I don't see any crushed cigarette butts and other rubbish on the pavement. I don't hear the mad Shaftsbury Avenue traffic noise. I see banks of slot machines and far off in the right corner I see the door to the card room.
I blame the Hendon Mob Forum. I wouldn't be here otherwise dammit. The feckers are so supportive and encouraging once you get passed the chainsaw-in-shite humour. And the Mob themselves - fucksakes! I've watched them since the first days of Late Night Poker. Fascinated me. Do they have to be genuine as well?!?
So, yes, I'm still stood rooted at the bottom of the stairs of the Fox Poker Club where I've pre-regged online for the second leg of the Genting Poker Series. Lotta money. For me. This time I didn't spend it on my children or my bills. The money was generated from my poker play and I'm going to use it on my poker play. I am. I will. ... I'm still standing here.
Grampa Arthur. (JodyLee's dad) He was a reg at the low limit cash tables. I listened to his too brief stories in fascination. I always hoped to join him on one of his trips to the casino. I didn't make that hope a reality in time. Still kills me, that does.
So we're all standing there, at the bottom of the Fox Poker Club stairs on the Wednesday night (including those weighing on my shoulders): Me, Grampa Arthur, THMFrs Bogus, StowJon, DCSW7, Pizzicato, AKhater, Ripple22, DroptheHammer, Joe Beevers, ... ... WAIT!
So in the time that I'm (let's all say it in chorus) standing at the foot of the Fox Poker Club stairs and all the events written above riot through me, nothing has changed. All of London has been frozen around me as I stare up at the doors. And then comes Joe. Joe Beevers. The Hendon Mob's Joe Beevers. Walking down those fated stairs. Not a soul has appeared before then. We're talking EMPTY stairs that I've been staring at. And here's Joe!
My mental dialogue:
IT'S A SIGN! IT'S A SIGN! GRAMPA ARTHUR! WE HAVE A SIGN!!!
A broad smile usurps my face and I say "Hiya!" as Joe meets my eyes. Joe smiles politely and says "Hi." and then he continues on at pace.
I pause and sort of laugh at myself. My usual behavior when meeting someone I admire has been to avert my eyes and pretty much act as if they don't exist. This time 'IT'S A SIGN!" had taken over me and it still went okay. Mad. So, I think, I might as well climb the stairs.
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