One Lottery Ticket Please Part II

Friday June 26th.

11:50 PM. I see the lights of Vegas from the 15. Tonight I appreciate my arrival more than usual as I've driven in tandem with some of the worst drivers ever. If these guys are playing in the $1500 WSOP event tomorrow I should absolutely go deep.

I don't know what's happened to driving on the freeway. You're supposed to stay to the right at all times, and only use the left lane for passing. Yet the norm is to do the complete opposite.

So we've got all sorts of donks in the left lane. You know. Because everyone wants to think that they're driving as fast as they possibly can. This slows down traffic and forces all the maniacs to go to the right lane to pass.

The unfortunate result is there's no safe lane for fast nor slow drivers. Everyone suffers. Multiple times, in both lanes, I have to jam on my brake while the car in front of mine comes skidding to a halt.

I really wish police officers would give out tickets to people driving the speed limit in the left lane. And of course to the people passing on the right. Something needs to be done to fix this. If only I had a blog where I could suggest change for the common good by writing about it.

Saturday June 27th

12:25 AM. I arrive at the Rio to register for the tournament and find out it's sold out. Damn. I'm not sure why this possibility didn't occur to me beforehand. The strange thing is I'm told to come back at 9 in the morning because they may release more seats.

I say something logical like "Why can't you sell it to me now? I'm here and I've arrived before the people who will be here at 9 in the morning." The gentleman looks back at me like some clever metaphor I haven't written yet. I leave him and wander aimlessly through the main poker room to take in the atmosphere and consider my options.

I'm frustrated to have come this far and not get in but the bigger problem for me is this completely messes with my plan for the next 12 hours. I really wanted to sleep in till like 11 and be fully refreshed for the tourney. I haven't even checked into my hotel yet. Now I gotta get up at 8 AM to come back over here? I'm cranky just thinking about it.

Is it a better move for me to go play the event at the Venetian? Or sit at cash games all day? Or come back here and play Main Event satellites? I close my eyes, take a deep breath. This must be exactly what it smells like in a fragrant prison.

1:10 AM. I'm standing in line to check in at the Hilton. I got some last minute internet deal for 3 nights, for the price of 1 night at the Rio. I need the 3 nights in case I somehow make it deep. The Hilton feels nostalgic because it was my sports book the last half of the Vegas Year. In fact I drove by our old house before doing the valet. It's still not rented. Hmmm. Maybe I should have stayed there tonight. The hotel clerk talks me into an upgrade for 20 bucks more per night.

2:00 AM. In bed.

3:00 AM. Wide awake.

4:00 AM. Still awake.

8:00 AM. I wake up and notice the time. My mind begins to race. Lots of people want to play WSOP events for the chance to win a bracelet. I'm in the minority who's much more excited by the potential six figure payout.

I'm also intrigued by the 4500 chip starting stack. In years past with the smaller starting chips I've found myself having to commit to one hand and either going broke or doubling up. With 4500 I can actually play some poker. Which convinces me I can get some chips. And have a long weekend. Okay. I'm going to the Rio.

8:30 AM. I give the valet 5 bucks after he brings me the car and he thanks me a little too much. That's my barometer that our economy isn't doing so well. People aren't tipping him 5 bucks.

8:45 AM. As I walk towards the registration booth I hear a guy outside one of the poker annex rooms saying "One seat left in a sit and go for the 1500." I think it cost $175 and was pretty tempting. The plus side is I could win my way in and save $1325 "if it's meant to be." However I was fully prepared to spend the full buy in and if I don't win my way in, I'm basically giving up my chance to get one of these 9 AM seats. I like the structure too much to miss out on this tournament.

8:50 AM. I get in line to register. People are getting seats. This is great!

9:15 AM. The movement stops. We're sold out. Again. Double Damn.

The funny part is that no one goes anywhere. We're all so used to Harrah's misinformation and chaotic mismanagement that none of us believes them when they say the event is sold out. We're collectively calling their bluff. On a side note- I've never seen so many people so anxious to give away 1500 dollars.

9:30 AM. People are losing patience. Voices are raised. The same guys who would be going all in and giving away their stacks in level one want to know for sure if it's sold out. Some of them begin to walk out angrily and mock the rest of us "idiots" for staying in line for an event that is sold out. Apparently this makes them feel better about their choice to leave. This exodus allows me to move up from around 30th in line to around 15th. I think this is what Bob Marley meant by "movement of jah people."

9:40 AM. I haven't lost hope but it does occur to me that I could have to stand in line for two more hours to get a seat. Is that worth it? Will I still play my best? Am I better off not standing in line for two more hours?

Well the one thing we all know is I'm not going to have to be one of these guys who has to ask someone to hold their place in line cause they have to go take a leak.

9:51 AM. A deadhead walks by with one finger in the air saying "I need a miracle. Who's got my extra ticket?"

9:52 AM. I haven't had my coffee yet so that last moment may not have actually happened. It might be me hallucinating.

9:54 AM. The mob is getting angry. Asking to get the tournament director on the phone. I feel nothing. Except tired. Who knew all those years of sleeping out over night for concert tickets in my teens would pay off?

9:55 AM. Harrahs releases 25 seats. By now I'm like 8th in line.

9:58 AM. I get in! Now if I can just show the same patience in the tournament.

9:59 AM. Okay. What to do next? I got two hours. I can go eat breakfast in the Rio. Or I can drive back to the Hilton and take an hour nap. Easy decision.

10:20 AM. My door at the Hilton is open because the cleaning women is inside. As I enter she asks me if this is my room. "No m'am. I just saw the door wide open and figured I could rob it if you didn't ask to see my key."

11:30 AM. I get my wake up call.

11:42 AM. Get out of bed.

11:46 AM. Put back on my lucky outfit.

11:51 AM. Go buy coffee.

12:08 PM. Drive past three billboard signs for Edward M. Bernstein accident/injury attorney. My favorite one is "Enough Said. Call Ed."

12:23 PM. Make it to my table. I have 4425 in chips. Only missed one orbit of blinds. I recognize two of the players to my right from The Vegas Year.
In fact one of them is a guy I first played with back in 2004 on my first WSOP trip out here. You know. Back when I had my cheat sheet listing the top 25 hands.

12:31 PM. Blinds 25/50. I raise it to 125 in early position with ace queen. Middle position calls. Button reraises to 400.

I hate this. I have no clue how he plays.

Is this his one hand per hour?

Or is he playing 50%?

I call in case the flop comes out ace, queen, queen. So does MP.

Flop comes 3 babies. I check. MP checks. Button pot bets.

I think he might be making a move so I raise all in.

Just kidding.

The truth is I use my x-ray vision and see his pocket 9's.

I fold.

12:44 PM. Ace queen again. Thank you universe for again giving me the hand that Doyle says he's lost the most money with. I mini raise to 100. Big blind raises to 250. Nice price and at least I can see a flop with position.

Flop misses me. I fold to the continuation bet. Down to 3700.

12:57 PM. Pocket kings. Decent timing since I'm the guy who raises pre flop, gets reraised and then folds on the flop. I raise to 150 in really late early position, or early middle position. depending on where you grew up.

Small blind calls. He's the only guy at the table wearing sunglasses.

Back when I spent a few years rapping I had the rhyme "Wearing sunglasses...cutting summer school classes." And now for some reason at this moment in time I can't get it out of my head. Two guys at my table are listening to ipods. Who needs an ipod when you got dope rhymes like that?

Flop is jack high and otherwise uneventful. I think for a moment, just in case I have ace king, and bet 250. He calls.

Turn is 9. I think for another moment and bet 400. He calls.

River is rag. Sunglasses plays with his chips and then slides out 750.

I actually appreciate this bet. It would have been scarier for me if he checked, I bet, and he pushed. I can't raise here but I'm also not folding. He's probably betting to steal the pot. Of course he could have two pair and be value betting. But he's wearing sunglasses.

I call and he turns over ace queen for ace high. I'm up to 5150.

I think I might recognize this guy from driving in on the I-15 last night.

1:05 PM. There are two Russian players at my table raising and reraising each other at every opportunity. I stay out of the way. I end level 1 with 5075.

1:19 PM. I'm doing lots of folding. I'd like to be more active but I'm getting nothing playable and them Russians are making it hard. One is seated to my right and the other guy two seats to my left.

1:20 PM. Bored, I look up towards the far end of the room where I can see Pauly sitting up high in the dark rafters looking like the the Judge who owns the Knights in The Natural. Someday I'm gonna tell him my story from 9-9-99 when I hung out with Phish in Vancouver.

1:48 PM. I'm down to 4875. No cards. The Russian gentleman to my right must be an internet player because he never remembers to put out his blinds. Oh and he raises 50% of his hands. I know I can win some chips from him if I reraise but I'd prefer for the universe to give me a bigger hand that I can simply call with and let him do the betting. I don't want to win the first bet. I want to win the flop and turn bets too. Cause I'm greedy.

1:58 PM. I haven't played a hand in level 2 cause I'm the second oldest player at the table. I pick up 4,6 suited in early position and take advantage of my image by limping in. Action gets folded around to the blinds. Obviously I have aces or ace king or something big. Small blind completes. Big blind taps the table.

The three of us see a 5,6,queen flop. Sunglasses is the small blind and he checks. Big blind bets 150 to find out if I'm holding ace king. I smooth call. So does sunglasses. I'd be really happy if I picked up a flush draw on the turn.

My friends in the random math lab do me one better. The turn is a 6. See how life works? I limp from early position with 4,6 and get rewarded with trips. Let that be the lesson here kids. Always play mediocre cards from early position as weakly as possible. That's how you win chips.

Both blinds check. I play with my chips. Everyone gets nervous when the board pairs so who knows what message I'm sending? All I know is it's real hard to get anyone to fold at this table so there's no point slow playing. I bet 400. Sunglasses calls. Big blind folds.

The river is a 7. Sunglasses plays with his chips. And then moves all in.

He he. Again? The two calls and then the river bet?

Come on man.

I ask for a count. It's only 1650. It's not like my tourney life is at stake so this is going to be an easy call. Is there anyway he could have a straight? Probably not. But it is possible he could have a 6 with better kicker. He was the small blind in an unraised pot.

I call and this time he turns over ace 8. I show my trips. He gets up and heads back to the I-15 so that he can swerve in and out of traffic for the next 5 hours.

Yeah. I definitely saw that guy on the road last night.

Level 2 ends a few minutes later and without doing anything too fancy I have 7050 at the first break.

2:30 PM. We get back from break and the WSOP suits announce they're gonna replay God Save the Queen after apparently offending some of our British friends with The Sex Pistols version the day before.

Really?

This is how we're gonna show sensitivity and class?

I'm sitting in a room full of some of the most obnoxious testosterone filled human beings on the planet, there are young girls walking around in their underwear selling products I can't remember and someone's feelings were hurt over a song cover?

Harrah's wants to show more sensitivity?

How about making all the players at my table shower?

Besides this is England we're talking about. We're about to celebrate July 4th. Didn't we fight a war 233 years ago so that we wouldn't have to apologize for playing a rock and roll version of their national anthem?

I'll tell you this: If I ever win a bracelet I'm going to insist on Radiohead's song The National Anthem. By far the best one out there.

Meanwhile the real punchline here is whoever won the next bracelet requested we honor our Iranian friends by playing the National Anthem of Iran. Or as the WSOP guy with the mic called it: "The national anthem of the Islamic Republic of Iran."

This prompted a guy standing near me to ask me "Did they just say Islamic?"

All we were missing was Bruno.

2:55 PM. Still in level 3. Blinds are 75/150. I make it 375 under the gun with pocket 2's and based on the number of hands I've played, I expect a little respect. The guy in second position to my immediate left calls. Everyone else folds. We see an ace high flop with 2 diamonds. I bet 750 into the 975 pot. He calls.

Another ace comes on the turn. This is tough for me. What would I do if I really had an ace? Sometimes I might check as to not lose my customer and induce a bluff. At this table I would probably bet since no one folds. I decide that he won't fold if I bet so I check and see if he has an ace. He checks behind me. I'm ready to fire again on the river.

The dealer turns over a king. My feelings suddenly change. I'm no longer comfortable betting. I wouldn't be shocked to see a hand with a king in it. I check. He checks behind me and turns over king 9 suited. He was chasing the flush draw. Based on what I saw I don't think he folds on the turn if I bet. The real shame is that the river was not the 2 of diamonds.

I say "nice hand." I'm down to 5900.

2:59 PM. Next hand I'm the big blind and call a late position raise to 400 with 10, jack. Only 250 more. The flop comes out king, jack rag. Against other players I'd lead out. Or check raise. But this gentlemen was tight. I believed he had the best hand. I was calling the preflop raise to flop 2,8,9. Not king jack rag.

I'm down to 5500 about to be the small blind.

I remind myself that if I just showed up, and was about to be the small blind and found out that I had 5500 chips: I'd be happy.

If you're just joining us now I've had one big hand today. The pocket kings back in level 1. I've had ace queen and missed twice. I won my chips with 4,6 suited.

3:09 PM. Interesting hand. Two guys limp. Small stack in the big blind raises. Early position guy folds. Big blind doesn't know there's another player in the hand. He thinks he was heads up. So he shows his pocket jacks. However the other player hasn't acted yet.

Here's where I think the other player plays it wrong: he moves all in! The pocket jacks guy has to call.

What I think the other player should have done is smooth called and then pushed all in if any overcards came. And obviously fold on the flop and save his chips if he can't beat jacks. Why get all the chips in now? Why not punish the pocket jacks guy by pushing all in if an ace flops? Even if he doesn't have an ace?

It turns out he didn't. He had king queen. The pocket jacks held, and the big blind doubled up. Here's the best/worst part: the big blind was assessed a penalty! For exposing his cards! This was absurd to me. The "no exposing cards" rule exists for the purpose of not gaining an advantage by showing your cards. This gentlemen was showing his jacks to be polite. And he got punished. So the lesson here kids is, once again, never show your cards when you don't have to.

3:23 PM. Folding.

3:36 PM. Level 4. 100/200. I switch to my lucky card protector and pick up ace 8 of diamonds on the button. Folded around to me, I make the standard 600 bet. Big blind plays back at me all in. I think it was something like 1800. Whatever it was, I was getting 2 to 1 here and couldn't fold to what smelled like a low pair kind of move. He turned over queen jack. An ace came on the flop and I felt good about myself as a human being.

3:38 PM. I pick up ace suited again and raise the next hand from the cutoff. Everyone folds. Two in a row.

3:40 PM. Very next hand. I raise to 600 with pocket jacks. Obviously I'm having one of those rushes Doyle always promised me I'd have. Everyone folds except the big blind.

Flop comes out queen, jack rag. Two spades. Big blind leads out for 1000. I sit there and try to take my time. Then raise to 3000. You know. To show him that I'm not falling for his move. He takes his time. And then moves all in. Wow.

I'm really hoping I'm up against ace queen here. I'd rather not have to fade the straight or flush draw. But what difference does it make what I want? I call. He turns over the ace high flush draw.

For a split second I feel sorry for myself. It's kind of like if I just had top pair, then it's fair for me to lose this race. But for all the trouble it takes to hit a set, somehow it's incomprehensible for me to get outdrawn against it.

I don't. My set somehow holds up. I'm up to 12350 chips.

I've got a little more than double the average stack.

What could possibly go wrong?

To be continued.

One Lottery Ticket Please

By now I'm sure you're all tired of hearing my publicist explain how I'm waiting till 2011 to get back into the poker scene.

It went a little too far this week when In Touch magazine included me in their "Celebrities Are Just Like Us" segment. These are a few pages in their rag where they give patronizing examples of celebrities doing things that non-celebrities too might find themselves doing.

Usually it's stuff like: "They pick up their kids from school" (Just like us.) And we get to see a movie star parked in front of a school.

Or: "They go shopping for anniversary gifts." (Just like us.) And we see someone who had their TV show canceled in 1997 shopping at the mall.

Obviously you can see why this magazine is so popular.

This particular one said: "They wait until 2011 to play in the World Series of Poker" and there was photo of me wearing sweatpants while getting some coffee in Beverly Hills.

You just can't buy that sort of press.

Well actually you can, if you have a publicist.

Why am I taking the time off from poker? Why wait till 2011 to return?

It's always been a dream of mine to play professional baseball. I'm planning to report to the Chicago White Sox Spring training camp come February. I'm prepared to spend the year riding a bus around the minor leagues.

I'm waiting till 2011 so that I can spend more time with my family in 2009 and 2010.

I want to work on all the projects I've been putting off all these years while I've been working on all the projects.

I've also always wanted to start a boy band. If not now, when? We all know I'm not going to look this young forever.

Although I will admit that as much as I want to learn to hit a curve ball and dance in unison in front of prepubescent kids, I have noticed the World Series of Poker is going on. Right now. As I type these words. These words too.

Damn I'd love to go and play an event. Buy me a lottery ticket. Be a tourist with a mission. Oh sure I might have to sit through hours of traffic to get there on a Friday night. But that part seems like really good practice for folding.

Progress

When you play online poker there's something real nice about how complete strangers from all over the world will take the time to share their deepest thoughts and feelings with you in the text box. They want to let you know how they feel.

Like today I had a short exchange with one gentleman halfway around the world that ended with him telling me "STFU" which I think means "Safe Trip For Universe."

This is the kind of positive experience the internet provides. Before the internet you'd actually have to travel to another country to hear someone tell you "STFU."

But now in 2009 you can read "STFU" from the comfort of your own home!

Basic Strategy

Hand after hand the worse cards win. We've all seen it.

Not in the long run of course. In the long run the better cards will win.

Sklansky and others assure us of this.

Just not right now.

It's okay. It's what makes the game good.

Right now in this moment the worse cards are gonna win. You know. The short run.

This means my most important job at the table is not to get upset. Not to take it personally.

I'm pretty sure I know this. But sometimes I forget.

The beats happen. The gutshots hit. Everybody hurts.

Some of us can handle it.

Some of us can't.

It's what makes the game good.

Just Robert being Robert

I traded for Manny Ramirez this morning in my fantasy baseball league. I wasn't scared off at all by his 50 game suspension for testing positive for performance enhancement drugs. In fact hearing that news is part of what made me want to trade for him. Well that and the fact that my fantasy league is the real deal. Unlike most poser leagues, this one exists entirely in my head.

My team is pretty good this year. If I can get one of my imaginary friends to trade me some relief pitching I just might be able to make a run at the title. But I don't want to get ahead of myself here. Some of the other owners are jerks and truth be told, I haven't even begun negotiations so I don't want to be unrealistic about who I can get.

Sorry Dave

I'd like to apologize to my friend Dave.

For at least a month now (truthfully much longer) I've been emailing him my bad beats. I want to show him how unfair poker has been to me. Even though I know bad beats happen all the time.

20% wins way too often. 10% occurs. When poker players go to the doctor and are told they have a 5% chance of dying from an operation, they make plans for the funeral.

Heck even 1% happens.

Honestly at this point the only hand worth forwarding to another person is when 0% happens. That's still noteworthy. But runner runner quads taking out flopped quads? Been there. Done that.

I wrote about running bad around a month ago. At that point it had already been going on for a little too long. What can I say? I've been stuck in the mud. But my internal need to show others that it's happening is way too human. And more importantly not beneficial.

Simply put, I gotta stop whining and get back to being the emotional rock that we all know and love. The only thing worse than how I've been running is my having to listen to myself talk about it. And being Dave.

So tonight when my pocket kings go down to king queen off I'm not going to copy and paste the hand.

Well maybe, I might.

But I promise I won't email it to anyone.

Peeing and Poker

I've never had to pee during a road trip.

Oh sure, when others needed to stop there were a few times where I might have taken advantage. There's 120 hours of footage documenting my driving around the country with a couple of funny guys in 1997 and not once was I the person who asked that we pull over the van to use a rest stop.

(In fact the only time I ever asked to pull over was in upstate NY when the luggage rack turtle shell thing on the roof blew off and flew across the highway. Thank God no one in any of the cars behind us was hurt. Still the fact remains that my asking to stop was related to safety, environmental cleanup and recycling. I did not need to pee.)

Why don't I need to pee as often as the rest of you?

That's a really great question. You are obviously a smart reader.

It's just something I was born with. I sip. I only wet my throat. I don't ever gulp. I have an incredibly malleable bladder. All of these things are true.

There are also some things in life you can't explain. Mysteries that defy all logic and reason. The way an ace flops whenever you have pocket kings.

Readers of this blog may know me as the Red Ants in Nevada House Guy. But to all my friends from the "Who Can Hold It In The Longest?" competitions, I'll always be The Camel.

And I can't sit here and say my bladder hasn't benefited me. It did get me that scholarship to college. Its helped me with multiple career choices. A strong bladder is essential when you are in charge of a room full of people. Occupations like teacher, performer, evangelist, family therapist, community theater director. In all of these fields it helps when your bladder is stronger than those listening to the words coming out of your mouth.

It works that way in competitive sports too. Unless you're Rosie Ruiz. Then you have time to compete and go relieve yourself as often as you wish. This is off topic but something I've always wondered is when Rosie Ruiz cheats at marathons, if she takes the subway to get further along do you think she jumps the turnstile? Or does she pay?

I have so much to be grateful for. Holding in your urine is great for going to movies. Waiting in line for concert tickets. Hanging in Times Square on New Years Eve. And poker. Well maybe not the Times Square example. Many people do find places to relieve themselves there.

But the larger point is that nearly not enough has been written about peeing and poker. Everyone underestimates the importance of bladder control, especially near the end of a level or on the bubble. You can see the pain in your opponents. Their legs are tapping. They need to go.

This is why the last hand before a break is such a great time to go into the tank. Phil Gordon teaches everyone to try to steal these last pots. But what he doesn't mention is that it's not about starting hand selection, position and reading your opponents. It's mostly about who has the strongest bladder.

Where's that chapter?

Which pro is gonna have the guts to tell me when to go to the bathroom and when to keep playing?

Do I have to be the source for everything?

Phil Hellmuth's book isn't on my shelf but from the time I've spent in bookstore poker aisles (usually while my wife is peeing) I recall him recommending something about trying to play like an elephant or a lizard. But not covering what to do when you need to pee.

Kenny Rogers may have come the closest to sharing this information when he sang that we "gotta know when to walk away and know when to run."

There's plenty of misinformation out there. I can't tell you how many times I've listened to people say they're gonna pay their blinds because they wanna play their button. So they play their button and then go to the restroom, completely ignoring the fact that the next 7 hands are free to see.

Why would you give up these free looks?

So your friend Robert is here to set the record straight. I suggest you go to the restroom before your blinds, not afterwards. The move that works best for me is to go to the bathroom after my under the gun fold. Then I try to time my return to the table after the button has passed my big and small blind. I then pay to come in, but the big advantage is that I'm in late position.

I've done no research to back up the math here but it feels like a huge advantage. If I'm playing 2/5 no limit I don't mind sticking 7 bucks in from the cut off seat. It feels much better than spending the same 7 bucks to play from the blinds. In fact, if you let me go the bathroom every orbit when it's my turn to play from the blinds, I'd gladly return and post 7 bucks from the cut off seat. Apparently products like Flomax* help make this a winning strategy.

We can argue later on (by the urinals) if this is +EV but I'd love it because I'd still have the option to raise these hands. It would be like the Mississippi straddle.

*Note to all the people working in the ad department at Flomax who are reading this blog: I agree I'm the ideal poker representative for your product. I look forward to returning to the World Series of Poker wearing an outfit entirely covered with Flomax ads. (Plus the added benefit of using me as your spokesperson is you know for certain that The Camel won't be away from the table in the bathroom when the ESPN cameras come to my table.)

That Old Familiar Feeling

I can stomach lots of bad beats in a day. In a week. In a life. That poker skill is way more important than people tell you. I'm pretty damn good about controlling my emotions. But I do have a breaking point. Once or twice a year I reach a point where I can no longer take it. Things keep going wrong at the poker table and it feels personal. It seems fixed. Why would my opponent call an all in with that hand on that board? How did he know what was coming next? I curse the Universe. Not out loud of course. But inside I suffer. I perceive a lack of fairness. I seek justice.

Logically it makes no sense. But this isn't about logic. It's not even about money. I'm no longer playing to eat. No now I'm playing for fun. Well in theory I am. But it's not the truth. No the truth is I'm playing for my ego. I'm playing to be right. I'm playing to show myself how good I can be. And that should be enough. Getting in with the best hand should be my joy. Getting all my chips in the middle way ahead of my opponents should be my reward. The runner runner that takes me down shouldn't matter. The 2 outer that comes again should make no difference. But when it happens too often it does. I am ashamed of the universe. How can there be a God? Would God really let someone who played like that win?

I play some more. Tournaments. Cash games. It makes no difference. It happens. It happens again. It keeps happening. It's different. But it's the same. It's too often. How can luck be so consistent? I've seen it go both ways. These streaks defy common sense. Oh I know the answer. Take a few days off. Come back next week and it will all be fine. The money I can win back but not the time. That's the hidden rake. I don't mind paying it when I'm winning. But when I'm losing I notice it more. The money I can win back but that time is gone forever.

I'm Right and You're Wrong

Trying to discuss limit hold em strategy with poker players is like trying to discuss evolution with monkeys. Or in this case, donkeys.

Poker by Analogy #6,432,069

Playing suited connectors is a lot like going to a strip club. If you can get in for free and don't have to buy any drinks then it's absolutely great. I like to see "the flop" as much as the next guy. Heck who doesn't like to look?

But if you got dragged out by some friends and already have a bad feeling about being there, then find yourself spending even more money to see "the turn" hoping that something good might happen, well then maybe you should wait until you find yourself a real hand. Or a girlfriend.

2011

My secret is I'm quietly preparing for the 2011 World Series of Poker.

I'm seeing the game on a new level. I'm finally able to get inside the head of players who play as I did in 2006. I completely understand how they think and my new poker task has become to exploit my own prior strategy. The funny part is sitting there and listening to them criticize my game. They think they are so smart. That's okay. So did I. When I played like they did.

I sneak onto the internet a few nights a week but because my time is so limited I'm forced to play WAY MORE loose aggressive than what I might consider optimal strategy. My goal is to acquire chips or be done with the session. I can't sit around and fold my way to the money. I'm either going to the final table with a big stack or I'm not going at all.

This week I played in a tournament with 1300+ players. I was chip leader with 6 remaining. I then ran into some real hands when I could have folded my way to a 4 figure payout. Everyone mocked me. But that's how I play at the moment.

It's hard for me to feel sorry for myself when I run into real hands after I've been stealing from them for hours. If I hadn't played so aggressively I never would have become the chip leader in the first place. So for me to lose the chips in the same manner was okay. Better for me to get familiar with these situations now. So that I'm ready for 2011.

Over One Billion Served

I finally hit the one billion mark for poker hands played.

Thank you very much.

Please don't send any gifts.

The knowledge I've gained is my reward.

What have I learned from one billion hands of poker?

That life isn't fair.

The Roaches Know

Here's something I read today on how roaches obviously understand game theory. Roaches know you've gotta raise with a variety of holdings. That's why they've been around for so long. If roaches only raised when they had good cards they'd be long gone. Like the dinosaurs.

Dinosaurs are great to have at the poker table because they're so predictable and that sort of play will make you extinct. But not the roaches. When you're playing poker against a roach you never know if he's got pocket aces or 3,6 off.

Push Ups

Raising is difficult to do but good for you. The more I raise, the more chips I acquire. When I raise with mediocre holdings it disturbs everyone at the table. Kind of like I'm breaking the rules.

People tell me how poorly I play but I've got to keep raising because I need to take care of myself. If the object of poker was to lose weight then raising would be like exercising. I gotta get my workout in.

Calling isn't so good for your health. Calling is like when you're hungry and go to a movie and end up eating too much popcorn. Afterwards you feel sick and your body is all confused whether you are hungry or not because you haven't had a real meal but you are full of popcorn and butter and salt. That's exactly what calling is.

Folding is fine too. Absolutely. In any situation. Don't let anyone ever tell you in life that you have to eat the popcorn when you really want dinner. Go eat. Besides the movie will eventually come out on pay per view and the truth is it's probably not as good as everyone says it is unless you were in that first batch of people to see it. You know. Back when there weren't any expectations. But now? With all that hype? There's no way that film can be good.