Steve's Poker Blog: The Next Generation

Well, with some sadness I must say farewell to this particular poker blog. I have been absent from it for such a long time that I've forgotten the credentials to log in and update it. It's easy enough for me to hack in, but I find having to do so for each new post is unacceptably frustrating. So I'm migrating my efforts (and the last three posts) to a new blog.

Please follow me to "www.StevesSecondPokerBlog.blogspot.com", and continue to enjoy the finest poker blog on the interwebz! (At least the finest one I contribute to.)

The old content (and blog address) will continue to exist here until doomsday, most likely, so you can continue to pop back from time to time and relive the best moments of those posts.

Adieu!

Peru Poker Trip

In the summer of 2012, we took a two-week vacation in Peru. We have friends who are Peruvian, and they invited us to come back with them. We did all of the touristy things while we were there -- went all over Lima, and then on to Cusco (the Incan capital), but the (literal) high point was Machu Picchu. I blogged about it thoroughly as "Notes" on my Facebook page and posted dozens of pics ("Mucho Machu"), so you can go read it there if you want. And if you're not my Facebook friend, why not? I've been told I sometimes post some funny things.

Lima has a handful of casinos around the city, and a few of them have poker rooms. I of course could not resist checking them out, and so even though I was somewhat hampered by the language barrier I made sure to sit down in a game or two and see what it was like.

First of all, you can forget finding a game that starts any sooner than midnight. The Peruvian currency is called the sol (plural soles, pronounced using two syllables). Each sol was worth, at the time, around 35-40 cents, so we're not talking high stakes.

The players are terrible; there is a good reason why Peru has never produced a championship player. The game plays much more slowly than in Vegas, sometimes as long as five minutes per hand. If you want to check, you say “Paso”. I found this is a bit confusing, because in England if you say “I pass” that means “I fold”. So I was afraid to actually say “paso”; I just tapped the table to check.  “All in” is how you push all-in, although it’s pronounced more like “all een.” “Llamo” is call, which makes sense. A Flush is “Colór”; a Full House is “Full”, pronounced “fool”; and they call Four of a Kind “Pokér”.

There were almost no female poker players to be found. Then again, the conversation around the poker table is of the locker room variety. Very useful for learning Spanish slang, if nothing else.

One of the more notable things about the game there had to do with the rake. In the states, the poker rake is 5% up to a cap of $4-$5 (sometimes more, sometimes less). This, by the way, is probably the single biggest reason why low-limit games are so difficult to beat. The competition at higher limits might be tougher, and you may not win as many big blinds, but the amount of dollars might end up being more because the juice hits a ceiling. In Peru, however, there is no cap on the rake! So even if the pot gets to a thousand soles or more (and it sometimes did), the dealer will pull in a rake of nearly a hundred soles before he pushes the pot.

All in all, I think I'd rather play in Vegas. But the game was very good and definitely lucrative, and I would go again if I had the opportunity. And by the way, one of the Latin America Poker Tour stops takes place in the casino I visited, the "Atlantic City" casino.

Resurrecting the Blog

I had literally forgotten all about this blog. I was (virtually) cleaning out an old laptop, and found some old entries, and well … I guess we’re back in business.

I never really stopped playing poker, although it lightened up significantly after “Black Friday”. Like the death of JFK or the attack of 9/11, if you were a poker player you’ll always remember where you were when you heard about it … I was in Pendleton, playing their Spring Round-up, and in the hallway I overheard some poker luminaries discussing the shut-down (Linda Johnson, Jan Fisher, Susie Isaacs). I wasn’t sure what they were referring to … a temporary outage of some kind? Anyhow, I finally learned the whole tragic story.

So there’s not much online poker anymore, and of course none at all in Washington State since it’s a felony. But as I travel a lot for my day job, and since there are plenty of card rooms across the country, it’s easy to find a game to sit down in. I’ve been playing a lot in L.A. lately, as well as Foxwoods and A.C. on the East Coast. I even checked out Mohegan Sun once, but the games there are very hard and I don’t know that I want to go back.

I’m pretty happy with where my cash game is nowadays. Lately I’ve been trying to sharpen up my tournament game. I played a WPT main event at Borgata last year (made it to Day Two but didn’t cash); a WSOP bracelet event (made it to Day Two but didn’t cash), and of course Pendleton’s Round-Ups (in the last one I cashed in two out of four tournaments, which is an extraordinary accomplishment).

I met a couple of guys at the last Round-Up, Grant and Jonathan, who are poker coaches. Their operation is called the Portland Poker University (pdxpkr.com). I went ahead and hired Grant – the tournament expert – and my tourney game has gotten a lot better just in the few weeks since then. I knew that my successful cash-game style was too tight to work in tournaments, but I wasn’t sure how to loosen up. Grant has shown me how and where to do that, and we’ve also worked on overall hand-reading (which is very helpful). He’s a terrific instructor and the investment is already paying off.

Portland does have poker rooms, which I never realized before. Actually, they’re more like private clubs. You buy a membership ($5/day or so) and play all the tournament poker you can stand. During my on-site visits with Grant, we’ve been playing some of them. Last weekend, cousin Dave and I played a tourney at a club called “Aces”. I finished in the money (sixth out of 80 or so players), and there’s no doubt at all that my results have improved because of the coaching. For example, here’s one hand that tells the story:

It was very early in the tournament, before antes kicked in. Blinds were something like 200/400, and we all had deep stacks of over 50,000. I was in the big blind. Action folded all the way to the button, who limped. The small blind completed. I looked down at QQ and decided to pop it … made it 1300 to call. The button called, and the SB folded.

The flop came nine-high with two diamonds, and so I continuation-bet around 1600. The button put in a giant re-raise to 5000. This was such an odd move, that I had to stop and think about it for a while.

I gave some serious thought to just folding. There wasn’t much in the pot, and I didn’t want to risk losing a lot of chips so early in the tourney. But I tried to figure out what hands could be ahead of me right now.

First of all, my opponent was a really good player. I could tell that just from watching the action at our table. He’d seen me continuation-bet a lot of flops and clearly knew that I’d stolen a lot of pots holding nothing. He probably thought I was doing it again … he can’t have known just how strong my hand was. It was a good move, if that’s what he was doing.

But what could he have that beats me? AA or KK would probably have raised pre-flop, rather than just called the button. A flopped set or two pair probably would have raised less on the flop, or even just called, to keep me in. I couldn’t put him on a flush draw either. Frankly, his raise showed me that he didn’t want me to stick around. The best hand I could put him on was something like A9 – top pair, top kicker. But even that might be an overestimation. (This is the kind of thinking that Grant has been encouraging in my game.)

I called that flop bet, and he was visibly displeased. Since the pot was big enough to satisfy me, the turn and river went check/check, and when I showed my unimproved Queens he mucked disgustedly.

I won another big pot from this same player later in the game, which ended up tilting him beyond any possibility of repair. Again, he was the button and I was the big blind. He raised preflop with AA, and I called with KQ offsuit. The flop was King-high, so I check/called his bet. Turn was a rag, so I check/called again. I actually thought I might have the best hand. The river was another King, which pretty much took away any doubt. I put out a very big value bet, he made a crying call, and when I showed my hand he literally bolted from the table and ran out the back exit. He lost over half of his stack to me on that hand. He did come back to the table – walking through the front door, so he’d literally stomped all the way around the building – but he didn’t last much longer, given his dark mood.

I have some poker trips coming up, and some tournament play planned, so we’ll see if I can keep this blog updated a bit more regularly.

A really bad session, at least to start with ...

I played a session last night that was truly brutal. In short order, I went through over $100 in some pretty tough beats. Here are the details.

I sat down at the $2/$5 no-limit game in the cutoff, posted by big blind, and got dealt in. I picked up the Ace/Spades, King/Diamonds … not bad for my first hand! It was folded all the way around to me, and since I was new to the table, I just checked my option. The small blind called, the big blind checked, and we went to the flop.

The flop was Ten/Spades, Jack/Spades, Ten/Hearts. I’d seen better flops overall, but I did have a gutshot straight draw and two overcards. The blinds checked; I bet $8 into the $15 pot and got only one caller (the small blind).

The turn was the Deuce/Spades, so now I had a flush draw to go along with the straight draw and overcards. But I didn’t have any read on my opponent, so when he checked to me I just checked behind. 

The river was the Nine/Spades, so now I had the nut flush. But for some reason, I felt really uneasy about the hand. If my opponent held Jack/Ten or Ten/Nine, I was dead. He overbet $40 into the $30 pot; since there were so many other hands out there that I could beat (a lower flush, a straight, trips) I went ahead and called. Sure enough, my opponent held the Jack/Hearts, Ten/Diamonds for a flopped boat … I’d been drawing dead practically the entire hand. All I could do was silently congratulate myself for not having lost more.

A bit later, I picked up Six/Clubs, Six/Diamonds in the big blind. The player to my left called the $5 blind, everybody else folded, I checked, and we were heads-up to the flop. King/Clubs, Five/Spades, Seven/Diamonds flopped. A King was very much a possible holding for my opponent, so I checked to see what he would do. He min-bet $5 which I thought was rather odd. I went ahead and called.

The turn brought the Ace/Clubs, another scare card, as my opponent could have an Ace if he didn’t have a King. I checked again, and he checked behind. I was starting to realize that I might just have the best hand. 

The river was the worst card possible: Six/Spades. It gave me a set, and no flush was possible. I put out a pot-sized bet of $20, and was immediately raised another $20. That’s when I figured out that my opponent could have rivered a straight. I paid it off, and sure enough, he rolled over the Nine/Spades, Eight/Spades for the straight. So between those two hands, I was down around $50.

Could it get any worse? Of course! Some time later, I picked up Ace/Clubs, Jack/Hearts in the cutoff. I’ve blogged before about how much I hate this hand, but when it was folded around to me I figured that I just had to play it. I raised the bet to $15, and got only one caller – the small blind, a really loose cannon who could be playing with any two cards.

The flop was Deuce/Diamonds, Deuce/Hearts, King/Clubs. My opponent checked. Sometimes I will continuation bet and sometimes I won’t; this time I didn’t, because I figured that my opponent would call whatever I bet, and with such a rotten hand, why bother?

The turn hit me nicely; the Ace/Hearts. I bet $20, which was around two-thirds the size of the pot. My opponent called.

The river was the Nine/Hearts. Now, my opponent woke up and put out a $40 bet. Had he hit the runner-runner flush? Floated a flopped set of deuces? Or did he have a lower two pair, or a raggedy Ace for a split pot? Naturally, I had to call. Naturally, he had the Six/Hearts, Four/Hearts for the rivered flush. Say buh-bye to another $60-some dollars; now I’m down over $100.

Even though I’d hit some of the toughest beats I possible could (although I probably could have played these hands a little better), I stuck with the game, and believe it or not … by the time my session was done, I was actually winner for the night!
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I went to the World Series again this year at the Rio; I actually spent about two weeks out there. I have to say, the cash games during the Series are not what they used to be. Maybe it’s because I was out there so late in the Series; but at times it was actually tough to find a game. I ended up having to head over to Caesar’s or Bellagio just to get some action. Quite a disappointment. On the other hand, I did final-table one of the Venetian Deepstack events, which was pretty nice. Also did well in a Binion’s Poker Classic tourney downtown. Here’s a list of the poker rooms I visited while I was out in Vegas this month, in no particular order: Rio, Orleans, Venetian, Mirage, Caesar’s Palace, Flamingo, O’Sheas, Excalibur, Hard Rock, MGM Grand, Bellagio, Aria, Binion’s, Golden Nugget.

Spring Poker Round-up

I spent last week in the tiny little town of Pendleton, Oregon; playing the Spring Poker Round-Up at the Wildhorse Casino. I've said before how much I enjoy this tournament, and how it is probably the premier tournament series in the entire Northwest.

This time around, I hardly played at all in the cash games. Instead, I entered four no-limit tournaments and cashed in one of them. It was a lot of fun, and I played some really great poker. One player who I had knocked out earlier in one of the tournaments stayed at the rail and watched me play until I busted (in the money), and when I did he came over to me and told me he thought I'd played really great poker. He said he didn't see me make even one mistake the whole time he was watching me. That made me feel pretty good!

On Saturday was the "Main Event", which had a $500 buy-in. I played really great poker in this tournament; knocked out five players (two in one hand) and, uncharacteristically for me, spent almost the entire tournament with a bigger-than-average stack.

The only hands I'm going to post are the two that knocked me out of the tournament. Actually, it was the same hand both times, pocket Queens.

The first time, I was at a table with WSOP bracelet holder Susie Isaacs. She had one of the short stacks at the table, and when it was folded to her in late position she pushed all-in. I was on the button with QQ, raised all-in to isolate her, and it was heads up. She had pocket Jacks, flopped a third, and took roughly half of my stack in the double-up.

It's probably worth noting here that I've played at Susie Isaacs' table three times in tournaments, and there's no question in my mind that she is the meanest, nastiest player I've ever played against. Every time she's said something to me, it's been with a sneer on her face and a snarl in her voice. Once, when I asked the dealer for clarification on a rule, she interrupted him and said "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard in my entire life." I have no idea what I could possibly have done to her that's made her so angry with me; maybe I remind her of somebody else. But she's one cranky witch.

My last hand came about ten hands later. I was in the small blind, and when it was folded to me I went all-in with pocket Queens. I was called by the big blind with pocket Kings, and lacking Susie's skill at sucking out, I ended out out and on the rail.

Speaking of Suckout Susie ... for many years, the Wildhorse had a poker hostess with that nickname. Her real name was Michelle Bylinga, and she was extremely gracious and friendly to everybody she met. She was particularly known for her elegant, flowing outfits and floppy, outlandish hats. Sadly, Michelle died unexpectedly in February. She was missed by everybody at the tournament and it was very sad to hear about her passing. Rest In Peace, Suckout Susie.

One of my best sessions ever!

I've just returned from a long weekend in Las Vegas. The trip wasn't really poker-related -- I was in town on other business. I did have the opportunity to play some poker, but I wasn't really in a poker mindset. Consequently, I stuck to the $1/$2 NL games (substantially lower than what I usually play), and played at some really small rooms on the mid-strip such as Imperial Palace, Harrah's, and Planet Hollywood.

I did have one truly extraordinary session at the Flamingo that's worth noting. I won more per hour and per big blind than I think I ever have before, and it was really two key hands that made it happen.

The instant I sat down at the table, with $300 in chips, I was dealt Ace/Jack offsuit. I was in late position (there was no blind posting for new players), and when it was folded to me I opened with a raise to $7. The only caller was the big blind, so it was heads-up to the flop.

The flop came Ace, Jack, Nine, so I had flopped two pair. My opponent checked, I bet about $20. It was an overbet to chase away the straight draws (there was no flush draw on the board). He raised me to around $75. Since I had just sat down on the table, I had no read on him. I was hoping he just had an Ace, although I suppose a set of nines was possible. But how can you get away from top two pair? I re-raised to $150, and he four-bet me all-in. I called. He had Ace/Nine, a lower two pair. The board bricked, and after one hand I had doubled up.

My very next hand was pocket Aces. I raised to $7 again and everybody folded, so I won $3 on that one.

The second key hand came near the end of the session. I was dealt the Ace/King of Clubs, again in late position. So beautiful! A loose kid on my right raised to $13 pre-flop. I called, as did the button, so it was three to the flop.

Ace, Queen, Nine rainbow came on the flop, so I had top pair with top kicker. The kid on my right checked, and I put out a bet of around $50 -- again, chasing away the straight drawers. The button called, the pre-flop raiser folded, and I was heads-up. I was hoping my opponent didn't have Ace/Queen! Maybe Ace with a worse kicker. Maybe even a straight draw paying a bad price. Regardless, even if I was ahead I would have to dodge possibly two cards that might pair my opponent.

The river was the Six of Diamonds. I thought, well, if I was ahead already, I probably still am. I bet $100, and my opponent just called again.

The turn was the Deuce of Spades. I put my opponent all-in -- around another $100 or so (I was the huge chip leader at the table had him, and everyone else, covered). He called. I rolled over my pair of Aces, surely losers at this point. He bellowed, "Nice River!" and showed his Queen/Five offsuit. Queen/Five!! He stomped away as the dealer pushed the pot to me. I turned to the guy next to me and said, "Nice river? What does he mean by that? The river didn't affect either of our hands." He said, "Well, that's just what losers say when they call off all their chips like that." I still think it's a weird thing to say in that circumstance.

Playing the Role of “Table Bully”

In poker, the “table bully” is the guy (or, sometimes, girl) who seems to be controlling all of the action. Frequently loose, always aggressive, he’ll come barreling into pot after pot, tossing fistfuls of chips into the middle on every street and winning the hand more by bluster than via showdown. I’m very rarely the “table bully” in the games I’m in, and there are several reasons for that:

First of all, I’m not loose enough. At nearly every table I sit down on, I’m the tightest one there. If there happens to be anybody tighter than me, I watch out for them and proceed very carefully whenever they are in a pot. I’m actually far more afraid of the tight players than I am the bullies.

Secondly, I’m not good enough. I don’t really know how to be the bully. There are plenty of players who fit that role naturally, and I’m not one of them.

That’s not to say I can’t be the table bully, or that I never have been. It’s happened from time to time, and when it does, it’s extremely satisfying.

I haven’t been playing very much poker lately, so I wasn’t sure what to expect when I sat down at a $2/$5 no-limit table. I soon realized that the player to my left was really loose; entering a lot of pots and staying in them for too long. This kind of player will show a lot of variability in his results. By that, I mean he will win or (usually) lose a lot of money in a single session.

I’d much rather have a player like that on my right than on my left, but I can adapt. In this sort of situation, I just play tight and bet perhaps a bit more meekly than usual; my loose opponent will frequently raise my bet or bet for me if I check, so I can lean back and just let him run the action for me, and rake the chips when the hand is done and I show the better holding.

The pivotal hand of the session came several circuits after I had sat down. A couple of folks had stepped away from the table, so there were only seven players, and I was on the button. Given these two facts, I gave myself permission to play a bit looser than usual.

The first two players folded, and the next one min-raised to $10. This player had been making that kind of play a lot since I sat down, so I was neither impressed nor intimidated by this. The next player folded, and then it was to me. I had some suited connectors (8§ 10§), and only a small bet to call, so I called. Both blinds also called, generating a $40 pot.

The flop could hardly have been better: 10© Kª 8ª. So I had bottom two pair; but the board was seriously draw-heavy. Given this fact, I wanted to chase out as many players as possible; or at least make them pay to play further.

The first player – the loose guy on my left – led out with a $15 bet. The next two players folded, and when it came to me, I raised to $60. When my opponent called, I put him on a draw at best, or perhaps (less likely) a King for top pair.

The next hand was the 5©, a really great card for me. It didn’t fill any draw, and made me believe in my hand more strongly. I felt even better when my loose opponent checked. I bet a good-sized $120 into the $160 pot, knowing full well that my drawing opponent would call regardless of the terrible pot odds I was laying him. He quickly called the bet.

The final card was the Q§. This filled a few straight draws, and when my opponent checked again, I checked behind, realizing that he could only call any bet I made if he had me beat. He showed the 10ª 4ª for a flush draw and flopped middle pair, and I dragged in a pot of nearly $400.

From that point on, I started to push people around, just like a table bully should. An example of this came later in the session. The min-raising player from the earlier hand was under the gun, and min-raised from there. The next two players folded, and I looked down at 10ª 10§, a very playable hand under the circumstances. I called the raise; the player in the cutoff called; and the three of us went to the flop.

It came down Kª 2§ 2©; not great but not horrible. When the first player checked, I decided to take a chance. I bet $20 into the $40 pot, and my opponents immediately folded. Obviously, neither of them had either a King or a Deuce, but it was probably my reputation most of all that got them to fold.

Another hand showed this even better. I was in the big blind with Q© 9¨. An early player called the $5 bet; everybody else folded, and I checked, so it was heads-up to the flop.

The J© 7ª 8© came out. Not a great flop for me. A ten would complete my straight, but aside from that all I had was a Queen-high. I checked. My opponent bet $8 into the $12 pot.

Now, 99 times out of 100, I would have folded right here. It is undeniably the best move. But today I was the table bully. I enjoyed the fact that players were afraid of me, and I wanted to maintain that dynamic. I decided to call, and see what happened on the next street.

The next card was the 5©. I decided to bet the pot here (around $30), as if my heart draw had come in. If I got called, I still had outs. If I was raised, I could release my hand here (or re-raise if I sensed weakness).

My opponent went into the tank for awhile. He asked me questions about what I had (“Did your flush draw come in?”). I tried to look completely uninterested and thought about dead cats. Eventually, he folded.

It wasn’t a big pot, or a terribly significant hand. But it did show how my image was intimidating players, and I think it landed me some extra chips that I probably wouldn’t have gotten otherwise.