Tournament Time

I walked into the tournament somewhat apprehensive; I've been running bad for awhile. Whenever I start changing aspects of my game, my bankroll shrivels up and crawls south, but this game has been good to me. So there but for the grace of God, I went.

This month's tournament was a little shorthanded, normally it's around 20 players, tonight, only ten. I sat down in the nine seat and the games began. I learned early that the looser, aggressive players were on my right and the tighter players were on my left. Good. Unfortunately, I went card dead almost from the start.

Early on, I picked up Kjo in late position and saw the flop - KJx rainbow. I bet the pot to chase out the draws and had one caller, who raised me on the turn after a blank fell. I put him on either king-crap kicker (K5 or K6) or a set, but the set didn't seem right; his betting patterns (thank you Harrington) didn't add up to a set, so I called his raise and his bet on the river. A few seconds later, I was stacking my newly-acquired chips when he flipped his K5 soooted.

Card dead, card dead, card dead. Later, there are five of us left. I catch pocket fives UTG and limp in. David (aka Dimebag), to my left, raises. I call, and the flop falls king high rainbow. He checked on the flop, and on the turn after a rag fell, he pushed. Back into the tank -- I was thinking if he caught the flop, he would have slowplayed it a little more. Pushing all in was a "don't call me" move. The more I thought about it, it seemed right, and if I was wrong, so be it. My fives held -- his AT didn't improve.

Down to two, I pushed all in on pocket 6s and my opponent had AQ. He won. My second place winnings covered my buy-in for the second game.

More card dead. Card dead. Dead cards. Cold decks.

With the blinds creeping up and my stack shrinking down, it was time to make a move. I pushed on QTc and sucked out on AJd to double up. I started taking down pots. I knocked out another player, doubling up again. Four left, and my stack is starting to shrink a little -- I probably was in third. Top two paid, so I needed a few more chips to start making more moves.

An ill-advised steal attempt UTG hurt when two players after me pushed and I had to get the hell out of dodge. Finally, I see a sweet sight -- Hiltons. So help me, I think one of them winked at me. I was on the button and had a potential monster. David, to my right this time, put in a 3X BB raise, I smile and push.

So did the maniac to my left. Not expected, but he was calling with anything so I wasn't too concerned. Jason and David folded, and I flipped my Hiltons.

Who ran screaming and crying before his aces. Ouch.

It stinged a little more when one of the railbirds said to David, "Didn't you fold KQ?" Sigh.

So I went home, even for the night. However, it was valuable; playing heads-up against some of these guys will pay off more down the road.

I'm ready for next month.

Ponderings

This is not a bad beat story; I'm finished with those.

Actually, it's a question of how to play a hand that's been on my mind for a week or so.

Here's the situation: $5 SNG on Party; it's very early in the tournament - the second level has just started. I'm in the small blind with Hiltons. Four players limp to the #8 seat, who raises it to 60 (blinds are 15/30). Action folds to me, where I think for a second and decide to call, figuring I can disguise my strong hand and strike hard on the flop.

Unfortunately, there are five of us in the hand. Not what I wanted. However, I get a reprieve when the flop is J-7-3 rainbow. I bet the pot (T300), action folds to the 5 seat, who pushes all in. Action folds to me.

Back in the tank, I start kicking myself for not raising pre-flop, but I can't dwell on that. He might have a set, but his push indicated to me that he didn't want a caller. The more I thought about it, the more I decided he was on a steal. He had me slightly outstacked, so I called.

He showed his QTo (WTF?), I showed my queens, and he caught 9 on the turn and K on the river for his straight. That's poker.

I don't blame him; I blame me. I'm thinking I should have gone ahead and raised - especially since I was in a lousy position, but I was hoping to hide my hand's strength. I'm thinking that I was so clever I knocked myself out of the tournament (assuming my opponent would have folded to a big raise -- always a questionable prospect).

Any thoughts or suggestions?

New Rules

Not all my play sucked on Friday night, I realized after a little after-action soul searching. Early on, I used position and played only strong hands. If the pot size didn't warrant a call, I folded.

However, patience and frustration are my biggest leaks. So I'm setting a few new rules for myself and see how it will help or hurt my play next session.

The rules:

1. If card dead for two full orbits, get up and take a walk. Upon returning, if the cold decking continues, switch seats or find a new table.
   
2. Unless it's ultra-low limit poker, or I have a total monster, fold any and all straddle hands. They almost always piss me off, and that's not how I want to be playing a hand.
   
3. If it's no longer fun, leave the damn table.
   
4. Take a walk after any bad beat. Don't be pissed at the jackass, just learn from his or her mistakes. Vowing revenge is a stupid and potentially expensive move.
   
5. Deciding I'm going to "win it all back" really means I'm about to hand one or more buy-ins to the rest of the table. If there's nothing there, there's nothing there. Move on.
   

Hopefully, this will help my bankroll from taking another big smack in the crotch.

Bad Poker Theater

I was apprehensive when I sat down, and so pissed I could hardly see when I stood up a few hours later. For some reason, the local casinos keep killing me.

My first hand, I won a nice $40 pot, then the deck turned cold. This happens to me at the boats a lot, and at some point, I started calling it Bad Poker Theater. Bad Poker Theater isn't participatory, but you want to join in so bad you can taste it. The problem is, to join the troupe you need to go on tilt.

Poor hand selection, raises out of position, ignoring draws -- these are all hallmarks, and after the second hour of throwing away 92o, 83o and K2o while watching everyone at the table rake monster pots with garbage, that A9o under the gun starts looking really nice.

Smart people would walk away when they start sensing the signs. Not me.

The guy sat down immediately to my left, ready to GAMMMBBOOOOLLL! He blew through his first stack in about six hands, rebought, and then the games began. He took down a pot with a pair of fives while playing T5o UTG, he took down another pot with similar crap. That's when he started straddling.

A smart man would have taken his remaining $30 and headed for the door. But I'm not a smart man. Instead, I start playing marginal hands -- Lord, I wanted a pot badly! Suited cards? Great! Aces are golden! Deuces don't looses! Ever. Except that even with the bad cards, missing the flop is missing the flop. And low-limit poker isn't known for it's ease in stealing hands.

And so, on the button, I see A6d. I limp in with four others. The flop? 3-7-5, one diamond. The turn? Ace. I bet, and everyone but Mr. Gamble folds. The river? A 4, giving me the straight. I bet. He raises, I call for my last dollar.

He was playing 68o, giving him the nut straight. Rather than throw a chair at him, I left.

I haven't made it a big secret that I've been frustrated with my inability to turn a profit at local casinos. I do okay online - I'm playing entirely off of profit, having withdrawn my original investment about a month ago. I can win in Vegas. But not here, and it drives me up out of my mind.

But I'm more pissed at myself than anyone else. It should have been abundantly clear that my case of cold deck wasn't going to clear itself up after the third orbit and I should have either switched seats or left. I did neither, and now I leave minus a buy-in.

Self control and patience are everything at poker. I generally play a solid, tight game, but tonight, after months of dropping my bankroll at the boats, I lost it, and as a result, I walked away with a lighter wallet.

I'll go back at some point in the not-so-distant future; hopefully this time with the wisdom to feel the tilt coming on and the strength to get up and walk away, instead of jumping up on stage to fill the roll of junior donkey.

The senior donkey was sitting next to me tonight, counting my chips and preparing to hand them off to the lemmings and fish at the other end of the table.