Sleep With the Fishes, Dine on the Whales

Once again I chaffeured the wife to a charity ball and then did the noble thing by parking across the street at Harrahs and killing time at the tables. I sat down in a newly opened table which I wasn't too pleased about at first but when I saw the group I didn't mind the lack of money. There were four or five guys together who had been out most of the evening and had some money to burn. They were all from the same home game it seemed and all overplayed A rag and all made bad calls and were willing to splash around some money. I wasn't going anywhere. Then the two kids that could play at all, and actually did everything I hoped to do sat down to my right. Sweet position on the only guys that worry me. To me left was a guy who should have come from the same home game because he overplayed anything resembling a hand but couldn't lose. Case in point he ran a bluff (???) with King high betting on all three streets and would get called down and... win. Later he chopped...

I was perusing Hot Clicks on Si.com as I often do and I saw this link to a blog about a SingleWhiteFan . This guy is basically offering himself up to the NFL team that makes the best case for him being their fan. It's a great idea, and oddly one I've already done. Here's the copy of a letter I sent the kid wishing him good luck in his quest: "Just wanted to write you a note, to let you know yours is a road I've already traveled (and it's a fun one). Shortly after an NBA lockout, me and three of my roommates, fresh out of college and avid sports fans, all realized we didn't really care all that much for any particular NBA team. Pissed about the greed (or perceived greed) that spurred the lockout we wrote angry letters to every NBA team declaring ourselves NBA free agent fans. We were all big college basketball fans and knowledgeable sports fans, some of whom gambled but had a tough time adopting an NBA team. Whoever wooed us, got us. Here's how our qu...

I know the dishonest origins of poker, in fact, it was once called the Cheaters Game, one that bilked unwitting fish out of so much money it replaced three card monte on the riverboats of the Mississippi as the con game of choice, and I know it's a liars game to this day. I know all that, but I also know there is some honor amongst the thieves we play with and there are some things I won't do. Is that a weakness when I play this game for money? Probably. You ever get that guy who is buddy buddy to you. Usually, he's on your right because everybody from Negreanu to Hellmuth has written it's a good idea to buddy up with the guy on your left (who will wield position over you all day). And I'm even fine with the fake platitudes and niceties, and surely I can't deny I've been a little nicer to a woman in a tournament, or a lesser skilled player on my left, knowing that when I have to steal they'll have a harder time calling, but that's the extent of my fa...

Couple of interesting hands. Probably will do a post for both... Sometimes playing poker is like running in the mud. It's an intractable slog that is a tension filled grapple with yourself and a table where you can't seem to get a break. Or it's 20 kids in front of you kicking mud into you face. People start keying on that and it just gets worse. That's when you should stand up. Some go play blackjack, but me no I stayed in the mud. After getting run down with some premium hands, I get Aces (but thankfully the way my day is going) during Aces cracked. The board goes four to a flush and I've commited only $74 to the pot. On the river my opponent shoves for $164. Which is an odd place for me. On one hand, because you get $100 back if your aces are cracked I'm only risking $64 to win a pot that is over $300 before I call. Obviously, I don't have the flush. This would be me if I were to play online blackjack, sitting next to the dealer with a tough decision and...

Had a pretty good tournament. Ended up going out 17th. I think I was a little rusty with my Donkley strategy there and paid the price. I usually try to get first in vig and play small ball if someone else is in the pot when the blinds get to that critical stage. Mistake number 1: I made a loose, loose call for most of my chips defending an opening raise. Too often if I get resistance when trying to steal during a rotation I find I'll fold the first and maybe second hands but the third time I'll make a dumb stand. Why dumb? Because usually nobody is keying into the fact that I'll fold to reraises there and in that tournament at least they are genuinely raising me with a hand. No need to make a stand with a A rag, when there will be other spots. Yet, I do. It's a leak, I've identified and am working on. After commiting that I error I have to rebuild my chips. Fortunately, I don't run into any hands and then I stack up enough chips with all-ins into unop...

First off I want to say congrats to Captain Ron who cashed in the same event as I did at the Beau. I believe he came in 10th. For some reason he wasn't listed on the front page of GCP with the other local finishers. We'll get that information up soon and fix it. Also, Captain shoot me another email I couldn't find the one the other one in my email box. My address is wildbill @ g(ulfcoastpoker).net. Without the parenthesis. Saw the Captain take some brutal beats on Wednesday. Unfortunately after he left I seemed to catch his second best-itis and it turned into a grueling, rough, rough day for me. In the tournament I watched Ron get out-setted in two out of three hands and that was rougher than anything I felt. I did a lot of folding when my opponents picked up better hands and I figured it out on the river. Course when I tried to bet to win the pot, turning formerly made hands into bluffs, I didn't have much luck with that either. Kind of hard to bluff a guy th...

"Well, you always lose with Aces, so why even play them?" My non-poker savvy wife has asked me. I usually laugh knowing, despite all my bubble exits getting my money in preflop with Aces, there is no hand I'd rather hold for those situations. After last week, maybe I should revise my thinking. I played a second chance nightly late last week at the Beau. The plan was win over a 1k, hopefully 9, and then buy-in to the turbo mega on Saturday morning. Then play in the main event after taking it down. Good plan. Started out okay. With barely over two tables left and a healthy, hearty, wholesome, and hale chip stack I was well on my way. In fact, there was only one bigger stack at my table and we might have been the two biggest stacks in the tournament. So, channeling Coyt Horkins, I thought, he's the guy who's going to double me up. I wanted Aces and lo and behold they showed up. I salivated but still I had a kernel of fear as it had been an odd tournament. I listenend...

With most of the players who can think beyond the two cards in front of them at the Beau this week, I figured the Donkley would be soft like pudding. I imagined it'd be like trying to make the varsity team of any sport from a collection of home school kids. Basically, I thought they'd all be learning how to play poker for the first time. When the wife gave me a pass for the day I raced over expecting a smallish field and plenty of spots to be rewarded for patience. I was surprised to see a number of players I think highly of, who perhaps like me, were tethered to New Orleans for the day and couldn't make a full day of hookey at the coast. I got in late and left early. Better than bubbling I guess. However, it continued a bad couple of days for me. A day prior at the Beau, I flopped a set and because of stack sizes and bad bet sizes on my part couldn't get away from a guy who flopped a flush. A little bit of a cooler. Interesting when I retell the hand I get a range ...

Gulf Coast Poker Championship: Some quick thoughts. I like the deep stack structure. Despite being mostly card dead and never getting any action on some flopped monsters I had plenty of play. It was weird I was short for almost all day and never got worried. My tables respected my tight play and anytime I shoved for limps, blinds, antes and survival I never ran into a big hand. Since I was card dead I was usually going to be embarrassed if I had to turn over my hand. I had two min rushes at my fourth table of the day. The first rush was pure aggression and opponents that missed the flop. I got to a point where the antes were getting so big, I just decided to lead out an c-bet and my table was relatively passive. I lost a couple of big pots when my hand got caught in the cookie jar and went back to working the short stack. Eventually I came back on day two and I went out 30th for a small portion of the flat payout structure. One side note, I got to play with Matt B for a while and I was...

Ultrasound is this darkened room, now sometime in the a.m. The tech is listening to some earthy beats and it's like we walked in a yoga class. She smiles while shaking her head, then nods and says "no, no" very motherly. Am I in the twilight zone or what? She asks us the same series of questions and tells us we should be worried... about the blood loss. We try to ferret out information from her. "I'm not allowed to say anything, but you can!" She smiles. What does that mean? I had visions of playing the equivalent of the poker player prank on her. But what is a ultrasound technican prank? Who knows. She conducts the ultrasound while listening to the music and bopping her head. At the same time she is letting out all sorts of omnious "tuck-tucks" and awkward faces, even letting out an "ugh..." once. "See anything?" my wife vainly tries. The tech shakes her head and says "Yes." "You can't tell us anything? ...

So, the security guy who looks a bit like the ice cream vendor in Friday, with the slightest of muscle twitch turns it into a full blown glare. Like I want to get eyeballed and intimidated (is that what he was doing?) when I'm walking my wife to the emergency room. For all he knows I could be walking her to her deathbed. Meanwhile, there's all these signs saying stuff like "They may not remember what you say, but they'll remember how you say it, customer service with a smile." I glance back over my shoulder, and this guy is still eyeballing me like I was a known shoplifter brousing in Sachs Fifth Avenue. WTF? I ask for the 20th time this day. We get to the room, and all that germaphobia goes away. There are no coughing roommates, no feverish clan of mexicans nearby, and no recovering from blubonic plague nurses. It's a clean sanitary room, they use for labors and deliveries. Wow. Greg Focker number 2, stresses to me because we have a newborn we should probably...

So we wait, with sweatshirts over our mouths and I'm a pile of worry. The wife says she is feeling dizzy, probably from the massive blood loss and the fact she is anemic anyway. People keep coming into the waiting room and I think I'm in a deleted scene from 12 Monkeys. The girl that checks people in by dismissing them, finally realizes there are a lot of sick people who are only standing and then does the other half of her job. She comes out and says, "Oh, if you already seen a nurse you can go to the other waiting room." The coughing, sweaty, phlegmy zombies get up en masse and all the seats except for a handful of folks empty. The new group of coughing, sweaty phlegmy zombies take their spots. So, in short, even though there was this much bigger waiting room, which I later see around the corner, where you are supposed to go after seeing the nurse, this girl would rather the initial death box fill before emptying it. In essence, maximizing exposure to the few people...

Sorry for the absence here and at the front page of GCP. Had quite a scare earlier this week, though things started off good. My entire family was in town during the weekend doting on our newborn which was a lot of fun. He got to meet his grandparents (again), his aunt (again), and for the first time his uncle (my brother ) and his wife and their children. He met his 31/2 year old cousin and her sister who is 1 1/2. They flew in from Delaware. Yes, Delaware lacked a population when they were in town. The 1 1/2 year old thought she was going to meet a playmate and didn't quite understand that the baby is basically a burping, nursing and pooping football. My niece was very sweet though wanting to wipe his nose when he sneezed. She'd get a tissue to bring to him, her grandfather who was holding my son would thank her, take it and put it aside. She'd get another tissue and he'd do the same thing. It was only when my dad faked wiped the baby's nose did my niece stop brin...