Yeah, I'm an EV whore - I couldn't resist the allure of the Pokerstars Blogger free roll - Sklansky bucks just for entering!!!
The boys over at the Spirit of Jake Plummer have done it again with another quality post. If you missed the one I linked up last week, check it out now. These guys are kinda like the Wickedchops of sports writing - good stuff.
-KD
The boys over at the Spirit of Jake Plummer have done it again with another quality post. If you missed the one I linked up last week, check it out now. These guys are kinda like the Wickedchops of sports writing - good stuff.
-KD
1 comment:
KD,
I've enjoyed your posts over the past year. I figured it's time to share a bit of my stuff with you and your legions of fans. Doglovers, all.
~~~
Penjoyan came down to play some cards at O11 last evening. He got there about a half hour before I did, give or take, and was already in a game. I got there at 7 PM and he had the look of a man living in Hell. I put my name on the list and then posted up at his table, and soon discovered why.
His table had about four or five guys discussing and dissecting the play after each and every hand. Various percentages, outs, and other poker lingo were bandied about. Most of it was nonsense. Usually, the best way to put an end to that shit is to comment, so I did. "Hey Mike, has it been like this the whole time?" Mike looks up and gives the dead-eye nod.
They start a new table for $2/$2 NLH. I sit down in seat #5, Mike is able to come on over and sit in seat #2. Both of us proceed to get shit cards. By the way, O'Neil - Spandea Ballet (SB) has a girlfriend! She is the subject of much of this email. She's in seat #7, and Spandeau Ballet is in seat #8. We'll call her Lady Helmuth (LH, for short). She isn't bad looking, she seemed to have a nice ass, but since she doesn't have DD tits (or bigger), she's not really a woman now, is she? The answer is no.
I proceed to donk off chips when my AQ is outkicked by a guy who limped with AK. The deck was smacking that guy in the friggin' FACE as soon as he sat down to the point that when he left, he did so with about $300 bucks. A nice evening for him. I lose another pot when LH pieces together a hand that I bluffed on the river and she made the call. I have to admit, it was a mediocre play on my part, and she played it well. Finally, I lose with pocket fives when I'm short-stacked and move all-in and get two callers. No five comes, I lay another $100 out on the table and think, "This is not going according to plan."
Mike hasn't played a hand yet past the flop, and is just catching shit cards. I reraise a preflop bet of $8 to $20 and Mike comes in over the top all-in for $28 bucks in late position. The initial raiser folds, and it's a mandatory call on my part. Add to the fact that Mike was bemoaning his existence and said just prior to this hand, "Ah, boredom. The necessary trigger for foolish action." Now, I know Mikey ain't nobody's fool (cue 80's hairband), but I figure at roughly 8 to 1 odds (Call it a pot of $28 x 2 + $8 = $64, and it costs me $8 to call, so that's 64/8, which is 8), it's the right call even if he's holding an overpair (Which would put me as a 4.5 to 1 dog, say, if he were holding tens or better). So I do.
I flip over my pocket nines, and Mike keeps his badboys clutched in his steely grip. As each card comes out, all lower than a nine, I am happy, and the river gives me a straight to the nine. I kind of laugh while saying, "Hey, I made a straight", since I figured my pair was a winner regardless. Only when I glanced over and saw the look on Mike's face and then down at the table did I realize that I had just sucked out mightily on his pocket Kings. Ouch. Mike buys in for another $50.
The key hand occurs when LH and seat #6 get into a hand where the high card on the board is a Jack. On the turn, she bets $20 bucks, he raises to $40, and she calls almost instantly. He's got about $14 bucks left, so when the river 6 comes, he puts it in, and she calls. He turns over the J-6 offsuit and apologetically says, "I got there on the river. Sorry." Her K-J is no good.
She proceeds to go apeshit.
Think Phil Helmuth, berating this guy's play, saying it's the most horrible beat EVER, yadda yadda. I mean, just haranguing this fellow. Finally, I ask seat #1 if his headphones work, and if he has any loud music on his iPod. She won't quit, saying, "Keep playing like that. I want a chance to win back my chips." I casually remark, "Jack Six is the best hand tonight. I'm raising with it."
About 20 minutes later, as if it were fucking scripted, I pick up the mighty J-6 offsuit, third to act. I must obey.
"Raise. Eight bucks."
I get about 5 callers. The flop is straight out of Heaven: 6-9-6, two hearts. I feel my cock begin to stiffen. I don't even care about poker anymore. I now realize that the most important thing in the world is for my hand to hold up and to triumphantly turn over the J-6. I decide that my preflop raise makes it look like I bet with a semi-premium hand or better (I've been pretty tight for the most part), so I follow it up like a man scared of the flush. I make it something like $25 bucks to go, and get two callers. Okay. Some folks are on a flush draw. Turn: Ace of spades.
All right. We've got ourselves a nice pot, time to end it. I push all-in for $65 bucks. The first guy folds (seat #6), and the second guy (aggressive Asian) calls. I say, "No hearts, please". The river is something black, I think it was the 4 of clubs, and I know I'm good. I flip the powerhouse J-6 towards SB and LH as I say, "I couldn't help myself." She is stunned, then starts squealing about the general level of play, I suck, yadda yadda. I turn back to the Asian fellow, and he's still trying to make a hand in his head out of the shit on the board. Seat #1 comments, "Sixes look good." Asian guy turns over the 7-8 of hearts, saying disgustedly, "I missed." Jesus Christ, he did, and I dodged a minefield to bring this one home. He had a straight flush draw on the flop, and missed his heart and his open-ended straight twice. (For those scoring at home, that's 15 outs with two cards to come. He was roughly 60% to hit his hand, if all the cards were theoretically in play, i.e., other players didn't have them and muck them pre-flop.) I tell seat #6 that he inspired me, and he's smiling, saying, "I thought you made a boat on the turn, you played that hand like pocket Aces." I smile too as I rake a fucking MOUNTAIN of chips. I'm around $280 at that point, meaning I'm up $80 bucks thus far (Remember: I had to buy in twice due to my initial donkery.).
Mike gets up to leave soon thereafter. I end up playing and folding out of a pot or two (playing in any pot with LH and pocket pairs, trying to flop a set and crush her), then pick up Aces in first position, make my standard douchebag $8 buck bet, get seven callers, and the flop comes Q-2-2. I bet out $20 bucks, everyone folds, and I stand up and leave at 9:45 PM, cashing out at $275 for a tidy $75 dollar profit.
Unfortunately for Mike, it was a pretty mundane Tuesday evening at O11. Nobody was drinking, and that was actually one of the tougher tables I've ever played at while at O11. I mean, normally you've got at least two drunk as fuck Marines and at least four other folks who play very predictably. Most of the folks at the table last night knew what was up. I told Mike that next time, we'll have to do this on a Friday evening. He may then witness for himself the beauty of some guy belting out, "Yee-haw! I'm all in!" as he post-flop slaps down his chip carrier with about $80 bucks in it when the pot contains roughly $45 dollars. I'd say 75% of the time, someone calmly calls and busts said fucknut. Usually, it's some Irish guy wearing a Member's Only jacket and chomping on an unlit stogie, remarking to the table, "Did I happen to mention that I LOVE OCEAN'S 11 CASINO!!!?"
P.S. He also loves it when a plan comes together.
P.P.S The guy I used to work with at Tracer ES&T and is now playing a ton of poker is blogging at: http://jake-syndicate.blogspot.com/ I've been "re-blogging" on his spot in the Comments section.
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