Following in the steps of those who’ve already posted this, please head on over to the WPBT Winter Classic Champion StudioGlyphic’s page for information on how you may be able to help someone in need.
In a similar vein, checkout this forum on FullTilt for another opportunity to contribute to a worthy cause.
****
Not much poker to talk about this weekend, so move along if that’s what you came here for. Otherwise, you can learn how Axeman and I went down to Columbia, SC for free to see Motley Crue.
It certainly wasn’t a concert I’d pay to see, mainly because I’d seen them before and a trip to Columbia on Sunday night isn’t my idea of mainlining fun. But, since it was free, we went.
During the bus trip down, we were notified that one of the sponsors of the trip, a guy named Mike who owned a local “Jersey Mike’s” sub-shop, used to play guitar in Saigon Kick. I told him that I had a song from his band on my iPod and he rolled his eyes and said “Love is On the Way?” I affirmed his guess and we had a quick conversation about life in the Glam Metal Years.
When we arrived, we had some time to kill, so the Axeman and I walked a few blocks to a local restaurant. We wondered up to the bar for a few drinks, and then realizing we had a boatload of time, we ordered some small appetizers.
A quick dial-a-shot later and our food was delivered. It wasn’t bad, but there was a problem. Our bartender decided to completely ignore us after we asked for our check. He kept walking by, giving about 7-8 other patrons their checks, but not ours. Since we had a concert to get to, and because the guy was pretty much a dick, Axeman and I decided to dine and dash.
How immature is that? I’ll answer for you. Very. But you know what? Too bad. There’s bad service, there’s horrible service, but completely ignoring repeated requests for our check so we can actually pay our bill is not the best way to do business. Don’t hold it against me. I’ll confess, it was fun. We were just making sure our trip remained completely free afterall.
(Side note to those in the service industry who may be offended: I am a big tipper. Huge in fact. I love giving larger than normal tips because I know how hard many people work in that line of work. So don’t come over the top of me for this little episode – drastic times call for drastic measures.)
So we hit the concert arena and find that our seats aren’t too bad. Unfortunately, the sound system is mixed horribly wrong and all we can hear is Mick Mars’ guitar. I like Mick, but Joe Satriani he is not. During the 3rd song, some bozo tossed a water bottle up on stage and nailed Vince in the face. He walked off the stage, confirming his pah-HU-say status among over-the-hill glam band lead singers. Axeman and I were laughing only because this concert was free. If I had to pay the $75 for these tickets, I’d have been ripped. But then again, I wouldn’t have gone either.
They finally came back out and played an obviously shortened set. No matter. Free is free.
Next concert should be much better, perhaps infinitely so. In Flames and Devildriver on Friday the 24th. I will be paying to see that.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Friday, February 10, 2006
Change of Pace
Nine players showed up last night at Dr. Alan Shaw’s domicile for G-Vegas’ first implementation of the medium game. I say medium game because it’s the first time our group has played a NLHE ring game with .50/$1 blinds. The big game label is still reserved for the $2/$5 game at TheRick’s. So why did we move up in limits?
Poker is funny sometimes. It’s always a blend of many things. In the pure tactical sense, poker is a combination of luck and skill. You can make structural changes to your game or tournament to sway the percentages towards one element. For example, in a cash game, as the max buy-in decreases in relation to the big blind, the luck factor increases. I once played in a $1/$2 - $50 max game. Mainly luck. If you make a pre-flop raise and continuation bet, odds are you’re pot-committed. In a tournament, if you make the starting stacks smaller and decrease the time between level changes, again you’re taking much of the skill element out of the game.
Well, G-Vegas doesn’t roll that way. Well, it tries to actually, but not when I have anything to say about it. I’m all in favor of the 100xBB ring game and a tournament structure that favors solid play. To me, it’s just more fun when the mental challenge is significant. I like to believe I have at least a small edge over the average guy if the conditions are such. Trust me, there are plenty of other G-Vegas games that I simply don’t go to. It’s mainly because I’m not a gambler per se. If I were an action junkie, I’d play with TheMark at the $5/$10 $200 max buy-in game that he went to last week. Craps with cards is what I call it. Poker is more than that.
The luck/skill factor isn’t the only way poker is divided. You also have the social/competitive classifications too. And just like the luck/skill split, there are many facets to the game that control how each of those elements is distributed.
Many of the G-Vegas regulars have moved to the medium to higher limits online. Offline, we’ve been stuck at the $50 buy-in level for over a year. With those stakes being relatively small to many of the players, the game has evolved (or perhaps devolved) into more of a social gathering with poker play taking a back seat. And I have to confess that for me, it’s been less than enjoyable.
Last night, with the increased buy-in, the game was orders of magnitude better. The new limits made people think twice before making random donkey plays, although there were a few late-night exceptions. But primarily, I thought more “real” poker was played and it was refreshing.
Now don’t get me wrong. The social aspect of poker certainly has its place. But I’d rather know that going into the game rather than have the game unravel around me into a donk-fest like it has for the past few months.
It’s a fine balance to maintain both a good game and an enjoyable environment. There is a decent chance that the increase in limits will make some of the regulars think twice about playing. I hope that doesn’t happen, but from my perspective, I simply enjoy a more serious game of poker. And if I have any say in the game’s structure, I’m going to do what I can to make it more enjoyable for me. After all, anybody can host their own game with their own rules, right?
Poker is funny sometimes. It’s always a blend of many things. In the pure tactical sense, poker is a combination of luck and skill. You can make structural changes to your game or tournament to sway the percentages towards one element. For example, in a cash game, as the max buy-in decreases in relation to the big blind, the luck factor increases. I once played in a $1/$2 - $50 max game. Mainly luck. If you make a pre-flop raise and continuation bet, odds are you’re pot-committed. In a tournament, if you make the starting stacks smaller and decrease the time between level changes, again you’re taking much of the skill element out of the game.
Well, G-Vegas doesn’t roll that way. Well, it tries to actually, but not when I have anything to say about it. I’m all in favor of the 100xBB ring game and a tournament structure that favors solid play. To me, it’s just more fun when the mental challenge is significant. I like to believe I have at least a small edge over the average guy if the conditions are such. Trust me, there are plenty of other G-Vegas games that I simply don’t go to. It’s mainly because I’m not a gambler per se. If I were an action junkie, I’d play with TheMark at the $5/$10 $200 max buy-in game that he went to last week. Craps with cards is what I call it. Poker is more than that.
The luck/skill factor isn’t the only way poker is divided. You also have the social/competitive classifications too. And just like the luck/skill split, there are many facets to the game that control how each of those elements is distributed.
Many of the G-Vegas regulars have moved to the medium to higher limits online. Offline, we’ve been stuck at the $50 buy-in level for over a year. With those stakes being relatively small to many of the players, the game has evolved (or perhaps devolved) into more of a social gathering with poker play taking a back seat. And I have to confess that for me, it’s been less than enjoyable.
Last night, with the increased buy-in, the game was orders of magnitude better. The new limits made people think twice before making random donkey plays, although there were a few late-night exceptions. But primarily, I thought more “real” poker was played and it was refreshing.
Now don’t get me wrong. The social aspect of poker certainly has its place. But I’d rather know that going into the game rather than have the game unravel around me into a donk-fest like it has for the past few months.
It’s a fine balance to maintain both a good game and an enjoyable environment. There is a decent chance that the increase in limits will make some of the regulars think twice about playing. I hope that doesn’t happen, but from my perspective, I simply enjoy a more serious game of poker. And if I have any say in the game’s structure, I’m going to do what I can to make it more enjoyable for me. After all, anybody can host their own game with their own rules, right?
Thursday, February 9, 2006
In Thoughts
It seems there is a bunch o’ crap going down for a few of our blogging brethren and my thoughts go out to each and every one of them. I won’t reiterate their plights here, but it does take no small amount of courage to share their painful and trying times with the rest of us chuckleheads.
So I can only say “thanks.” Because by sharing, you enlighten. You all make it easier for me to look at all of life’s positives rather than all the negatives. The negatives are so much easier to acknowledge, many times we lose sight of what’s truly important.
Friends, family, health. Not having Aces cracked. (I kid.)
Here’s hoping that better times for you guys lie ahead. If G-Vegas can help in any way, let us know.
****
In poker news, G-Vegas has upped the limits of the NL ring game. What used to be a regular .25/.50 blind structure has now doubled. The change has attracted back some players who were looking for higher stakes, but also most likely has detracted others from attending. Time will tell what the increase will do to the state of the game.
Last Friday I finalized my order for the custom chips. Hopefully they’ll arrive in the next few weeks, at which point I’ll have another BBSOP event to commemorate their arrival.
So I can only say “thanks.” Because by sharing, you enlighten. You all make it easier for me to look at all of life’s positives rather than all the negatives. The negatives are so much easier to acknowledge, many times we lose sight of what’s truly important.
Friends, family, health. Not having Aces cracked. (I kid.)
Here’s hoping that better times for you guys lie ahead. If G-Vegas can help in any way, let us know.
****
In poker news, G-Vegas has upped the limits of the NL ring game. What used to be a regular .25/.50 blind structure has now doubled. The change has attracted back some players who were looking for higher stakes, but also most likely has detracted others from attending. Time will tell what the increase will do to the state of the game.
Last Friday I finalized my order for the custom chips. Hopefully they’ll arrive in the next few weeks, at which point I’ll have another BBSOP event to commemorate their arrival.
Tuesday, February 7, 2006
Monday, February 6, 2006
Distract
The Mrs. was out and about this past Saturday which meant yours truly got to sign up for an MTT and play with fewer distractions. Not zero mind you, but fewer.
I signed up for the FullTilt $6k guaranteed based solely on its timing. After 1 hour, I’d played perhaps 3 hands and stood below average at about T2100. As is standard fare, half the field of 350 players was already gone. With the blinds increasing as they are prone to do, I became M-limited and looked for pushing opportunities.
My first opportunity came with ATs. I was called by pocket 5’s, hit two-pair on the flop and boated up on the turn. I was then berated by the person who called me. He asked me if I ever wondered how I got so short-stacked. I didn’t reply, because I never wonder about getting short-stacked. With 10-minute levels and a propensity to wait for good cards, most people wouldn’t find themselves surprised. At least not me.
Fast forward a couple of hours and after winning one more race, I found myself at the final table. I played situational tournament poker, mainly paying attention to stack sizes and positions more so than my actual holdings. With six players left, the following hand arose.
I was in 5th chip position, with the short-stack to my left. The play was folded around to me in the small blind, and with QJo, I pushed. My thought was that I would only get called by a monster. My opponent’s definition of monster was A6s. I caught a Q on both the turn and river to eliminate him. On came the berating. I was a donkey, his hand was better, and I sucked out.
My cohorts in crime stood up for my play in the chatbox: (The Bracelet, BiggestRon, Mourn, GeeknProud, Shane-O-Mac Nickerblog, StB). A finer set of railbirds could not be had. Pretty sure BG was there too.
I finished 5th for a $588 cash, after which BiggestRon claimed that PokerGeek would have a post up shortly about him finishing 4th. (Mild guffaw)
****
In the playing poker with distractions department comes the following:
I’m in a hand. It’s a big pot. The door to the poker playing office opens and it’s MrsBlood with a handful of laundry.
“Smell this, just smell this!” she exclaims as she inserts a stack of my own underwear directly into my face.
Luckily, it was just cleaned and smelled fresh in a clean-air-breeze kind of way.
“I can do wonders with laundry, just so you know.”
I thanked her profusely but asked her to please move away from the monitor because I was in the middle of something right at the moment.
Her eyes did the MrsBlood roll and she said simply “Oh.”
I lost the pot, but all is not lost.
I have clean underwear.
I signed up for the FullTilt $6k guaranteed based solely on its timing. After 1 hour, I’d played perhaps 3 hands and stood below average at about T2100. As is standard fare, half the field of 350 players was already gone. With the blinds increasing as they are prone to do, I became M-limited and looked for pushing opportunities.
My first opportunity came with ATs. I was called by pocket 5’s, hit two-pair on the flop and boated up on the turn. I was then berated by the person who called me. He asked me if I ever wondered how I got so short-stacked. I didn’t reply, because I never wonder about getting short-stacked. With 10-minute levels and a propensity to wait for good cards, most people wouldn’t find themselves surprised. At least not me.
Fast forward a couple of hours and after winning one more race, I found myself at the final table. I played situational tournament poker, mainly paying attention to stack sizes and positions more so than my actual holdings. With six players left, the following hand arose.
I was in 5th chip position, with the short-stack to my left. The play was folded around to me in the small blind, and with QJo, I pushed. My thought was that I would only get called by a monster. My opponent’s definition of monster was A6s. I caught a Q on both the turn and river to eliminate him. On came the berating. I was a donkey, his hand was better, and I sucked out.
My cohorts in crime stood up for my play in the chatbox: (The Bracelet, BiggestRon, Mourn, GeeknProud, Shane-O-Mac Nickerblog, StB). A finer set of railbirds could not be had. Pretty sure BG was there too.
I finished 5th for a $588 cash, after which BiggestRon claimed that PokerGeek would have a post up shortly about him finishing 4th. (Mild guffaw)
****
In the playing poker with distractions department comes the following:
I’m in a hand. It’s a big pot. The door to the poker playing office opens and it’s MrsBlood with a handful of laundry.
“Smell this, just smell this!” she exclaims as she inserts a stack of my own underwear directly into my face.
Luckily, it was just cleaned and smelled fresh in a clean-air-breeze kind of way.
“I can do wonders with laundry, just so you know.”
I thanked her profusely but asked her to please move away from the monitor because I was in the middle of something right at the moment.
Her eyes did the MrsBlood roll and she said simply “Oh.”
I lost the pot, but all is not lost.
I have clean underwear.
Friday, February 3, 2006
An Aftertaste So Bitter
Wrestled on it’s back
The ego shows its face. – Dark Tranquility
Egoism dictates human relations. – In Flames
By the turn, you have a hand. Not a great one, but a hand nonetheless. You’re in early position, you’ve been the aggressor the whole hand, and now you’ve just been raised.
In the back of your mind you’re weighing your options. You can fold because there’s something in your read that tells you that you’re behind. Or you can check-call provided your opponent doesn’t make a big bet on the river. Or you can re-raise because you think the other guy is bluffing.
How do you decide?
Online, you don’t have much other than betting patterns to tell you. In a live game, perhaps you have some more information and you can use it to improve your read.
After some consideration, you have a strong feeling you’re behind. Maybe way behind. Still, you refuse to give up the hand. Why?
It’s that damn ego getting in the way. Can someone tell me what else it could be that makes you continue with a hand when you know you’re beat? Some stubbornness perhaps, but most likely it’s ego. Literature on hold ‘em everywhere talks about the required aggression needed to win. Folding is not aggression. You can’t let the table see you bail out of a hand at the first sign of resistance. And that raise? That’s some kind of personal attack on me and I cannot sit idly by.
But folding is not a crime. I know it brought a bunch of laughs, but the list that Steve Dannenmann’s brought out at the final table of the 2005 WSOP did have one gem: “Folding to a raise is only a small mistake.”
Letting go of a hand is just as important as getting proper value from your monster hand. Making a few small mistakes is better than making one giant one.
The ego drama unfolds.
The ego shows its face. – Dark Tranquility
Egoism dictates human relations. – In Flames
By the turn, you have a hand. Not a great one, but a hand nonetheless. You’re in early position, you’ve been the aggressor the whole hand, and now you’ve just been raised.
In the back of your mind you’re weighing your options. You can fold because there’s something in your read that tells you that you’re behind. Or you can check-call provided your opponent doesn’t make a big bet on the river. Or you can re-raise because you think the other guy is bluffing.
How do you decide?
Online, you don’t have much other than betting patterns to tell you. In a live game, perhaps you have some more information and you can use it to improve your read.
After some consideration, you have a strong feeling you’re behind. Maybe way behind. Still, you refuse to give up the hand. Why?
It’s that damn ego getting in the way. Can someone tell me what else it could be that makes you continue with a hand when you know you’re beat? Some stubbornness perhaps, but most likely it’s ego. Literature on hold ‘em everywhere talks about the required aggression needed to win. Folding is not aggression. You can’t let the table see you bail out of a hand at the first sign of resistance. And that raise? That’s some kind of personal attack on me and I cannot sit idly by.
But folding is not a crime. I know it brought a bunch of laughs, but the list that Steve Dannenmann’s brought out at the final table of the 2005 WSOP did have one gem: “Folding to a raise is only a small mistake.”
Letting go of a hand is just as important as getting proper value from your monster hand. Making a few small mistakes is better than making one giant one.
The ego drama unfolds.
Wednesday, February 1, 2006
Live Blogging Mania
8:15 – I get out of the car and make my way towards the building where I work. The simple act of walking gets my insides propped and ready.
8:19 – The rumblings from last night’s protein shake make themselves known. Vanilla protein powder + orange-flavored cilium = crazy delicious.
8:30 – With my morning bagel and hardboiled eggs in my system, I’m ready for the worst.
9:30 – I take my hand-held WSOP poker game with me to my “second” office.
9:31 – I scout the area for an open stall. We have 5 to choose from, but the second one has a broken door that tends to open when others leave or enter the stalls next to it. There’s nothing like an unexpected “hello” to tighten up the sphincter beyond the point of no return. Can’t lose that window of opportunity.
9:32 – I choose stall #4. It’s roomy. I furiously wipe down the seat with some balled up toilet paper. For whatever reason, the thought of my butt cheeks sitting down where another co-worker’s ass has been kinda skeeves me out. (Why does MS-Word not recognize skeeve?)
9:33 – I fire up the hand-held poker game and ponder life.
9:37 – The stalls around me slowly become occupied. I can’t avert my gaze and see random people’s shoes and bunched up pants rolled down to their ankles. It ain’t pretty, but then again, neither is the task at hand.
9:40 – I get rivered in the damn hand-held game by a two outer. Electronic poker is rigged! I’m on dump-tilt.
9:41 – Recent eliminations:
9:45 – Last five co-workers I took a crap next to:
9:50 – Cleanup, flush, and run.
9:51 – I use about twelve dabs of soap and scrub my hands like I’m in ER prep.
Live blogging is hard. So is live logging.
8:19 – The rumblings from last night’s protein shake make themselves known. Vanilla protein powder + orange-flavored cilium = crazy delicious.
8:30 – With my morning bagel and hardboiled eggs in my system, I’m ready for the worst.
9:30 – I take my hand-held WSOP poker game with me to my “second” office.
9:31 – I scout the area for an open stall. We have 5 to choose from, but the second one has a broken door that tends to open when others leave or enter the stalls next to it. There’s nothing like an unexpected “hello” to tighten up the sphincter beyond the point of no return. Can’t lose that window of opportunity.
9:32 – I choose stall #4. It’s roomy. I furiously wipe down the seat with some balled up toilet paper. For whatever reason, the thought of my butt cheeks sitting down where another co-worker’s ass has been kinda skeeves me out. (Why does MS-Word not recognize skeeve?)
9:33 – I fire up the hand-held poker game and ponder life.
9:37 – The stalls around me slowly become occupied. I can’t avert my gaze and see random people’s shoes and bunched up pants rolled down to their ankles. It ain’t pretty, but then again, neither is the task at hand.
9:40 – I get rivered in the damn hand-held game by a two outer. Electronic poker is rigged! I’m on dump-tilt.
9:41 – Recent eliminations:
- Yesterday’s salad I had at lunch.
- Last night’s chicken dinner.
- Pretty sure I had corn. Yes I had corn.
9:45 – Last five co-workers I took a crap next to:
- Guy who obviously had Mexican the day before.
- Another guy playing some game on his cell phone.
- The grunter.
- Some crazy dude who talks to himself in whispers. I look to see if I can see his badge so I know who to avoid when he inevitably goes postal.
- Stage fright man. He’s actually just peeing in the stall to avoid using the urinals.
9:50 – Cleanup, flush, and run.
9:51 – I use about twelve dabs of soap and scrub my hands like I’m in ER prep.
Live blogging is hard. So is live logging.
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