This is who you want at the table

After my session at Mandalay Bay (see previous post), I decided to spend a little time at Luxor. One of the players at the table was plainly quite drunk. He couldn't even coordinate his hands enough to stack his chips, and just kept them in a messy pile.

After I had been there for a while, a man, who we soon learned was drunk guy's brother, came along to chat with him:

Brother: "There you are. I thought you went back to the room to sleep."

Drunk guy: "I tried, but I couldn't see the room numbers well enough to know which one was ours, so I came down here instead."

Your decision?

It's time once again to play "You decide." Once in a while I'm faced with a difficult decision for a lot of chips, and I try to present the situation to my loyal readers and ask how they'd handle it. These are the decisions on which my poker success largely rides. I'd like to think I get them right more often that my average opponent does, but who knows? I have certainly posted my share of examples of blowing the big ones in spectacular fashion.

I was at Mandalay Bay this afternoon. I had been playing for maybe 45 minutes, and had increased my $300 buy-in to $392. I found 3c-3s in second position and called a raise to $10 from the under-the-gun player. Player in the small blind reraised to $30. As in most $1-2 NLHE games in town, light three-bets are not common, so this definitely got my attention. UTG folded, and it was back to me.

I'll tell you what little I can about my opponent. First of all, he's a toothpick chewer, which sets a two-digit upper limit on his IQ. He's obviously a tourist, paying more attention to the football games than the poker game. He has commented about how he's losing every sports bet he made. (I try to pay attention to such small self-revelations, because they can influence one's judgment of an opponent's mental/emotional state.) Perhaps most importantly, I've seen him overplay top-pair hands. He is no maniac or bully, but neither is he a calling station. My impression was that he basically plays his own hand pretty straightforwardly, and has little feel for where he is with respect to an opponent's holdings. He's not at all afraid of putting chips in the middle. He isn't exactly reckless, but he also doesn't really have the degree of caution that one should with medium-strength hands. He's also very friendly, doesn't get upset when he loses, doesn't gloat when he wins. It seems that he's one to whom the money really doesn't matter a lot--or perhaps he's deeply stuck between poker and the sports book (he was at the table before me, so I didn't know his history) and past the threshold of pain, beyond which further losses don't hurt much anymore. His stack had gone up and down some, but I had not seen him rebuy. I couldn't remember whether I had seen him put in any pre-flop 3-bets before. (My bad there.)

He had me covered by $50 or so, which meant that I felt I could justify set-mining in hope of a double-up. Still, $30 is a lot to pay to see a flop, when the great majority of the time I'll have to give it up thereafter. His most likely hands at this point were, obviously, any of the big pairs. A minority of players at this level will play medium pairs this way; they want to claim the pot now and not have to agonize about the inevitable overcards on the flop. Some--especially those who play more tournaments than cash games--will play A-K like this, even out of position. (I think that's a big mistake, but what do I know?)

I decided to call, but even as I did, I was wondering what sort of flop I'd like to see. I wanted a 3, of course, but what else? With any A, K, Q, or J I would have a serious worry about being trapped in a set-over-set scenario. Obviously, this can happen even after a single raise, but usually the reraise--especially from out of position--sufficiently narrows a player's range that high cards on the flop are scarier in terms of representing a big set. In other words, when I call one raise, I'm delighted to see something like A-K-3, because it is much more likely that the raiser made a big pair that he's happy with--or even two pair--than that he made a set. After a pre-flop reraise, though, I'm going to be much more leery that one of those big ones was his gin card.*

So there I was, $30 into the pot and unsure of what to do even if I were to see on the flop one of the two cards that I was praying for.

I did: Ah-3h-Jc. Good news and bad news: Loved my set, hated the fear that he had a bigger monster than mine, and I was about to get gobbled up, like T-Rex mangling the velociraptors at the end of "Jurassic Park."

He bet $60 and went back to watching the football game. Seemed pretty comfortable, but I couldn't claim to have any sort of solid feel for how strong he was. I thought about raising. A shove would be too much, but maybe a 2.5 or 3x raise. If he had, say, K-K or Q-Q, that might well end the matter. If he just called, though, I still have a dilemma: is he trapping me, or does he have A-K and I have prematurely put him on alert, thus limiting my potential win? And what if he were to come back over the top with an all-in? Could I really be sufficiently persuaded by that that I'm deep in doo-doo and must fold? My head was swimming.

I took the coward's way out and just called. I suppose I could claim that it was in the interest of pot control, but after I had embarked on the pre-flop call with the justification of stacking him, the idea of "pot control" seems pretty silly. I might also be tempted to claim that I was floating him, with the intention of seeing what he did on the turn before committing myself. There's something to that, but the real truth is that I was feeling just like the weak calling station I recently described this way:

[He]is caught between fear and hope. Fear makes him reject the raise, and hope makes him reject the fold. Calling is what's left.

I'm not proud of myself for being indecisive, but that's how it is sometimes (though hopefully not too often). I called.

The turn was the 6s. My opponent bet again, a $100 stack this time, with little hesitation and no evidence of fear in his face or hands. Was this justifiable confidence in the strength of his cards? Foolish overconfidence? Bluffing bravado? Complete nonchalance and detachment from the outcome? I couldn't tell.

Once again, without being able to provide you a satisfactory justification for why, I neither folded nor pulled the trigger on a shove; I called, leaving myself $202 behind and, to be honest, having no idea what I would do with any river card except for the case 3.

The river was the 2h. I was not very worried about him having been on a flush draw, nor about him having a straight with the extremely unlikely 4-5. The deuce, like the 6 before it, appeared to have basically changed nothing. I was still either way ahead or way behind, with no way to be sure.

My opponent thought a few seconds, then checked. How should I interpret this? Maybe he had missed the flop and turn with K-K or Q-Q and was now giving up, convinced that I had an ace. But conversely, it might just mean that he did, in fact, have a bigger set with A-A or J-J, and was worried that I had rivered him with a flush (or, less likely, a straight), in which case my goose was still cooked.

So, dear readers, here's your big moment of decision. I'll give you three options.

(A) Check behind, cross your fingers, and hope that you're good. (B) Make, say, a $100 bet, in the hope of folding to save yourself one stack if he check-raises all in. After all, if he has something like A-K, he might well call another $100, but be scared off by a shove. (C) Make the hero shove. He might call with A-K, thinking that you're representing the flush when you really have K-K or Q-Q. It's possible, though less likely, that he has A-J and won't be able to get away from top two pair. Heck, maybe he is disciplined enough, or sufficient afraid of the flush, that he'd even fold J-J or A-A.

Think about it. Use the comments to submit your decision, if you like. I'll wait 24 hours, then post what I did and what happened.


*I spent some time playing with Grange95 this weekend--about which I expect to write more soon--and we were talking about the phenomenon of getting the worst possible card, the one that cinches the hand for your opponent, but makes you love your second-best hand enough to lose everything on it. E.g., the card that makes your nut flush and his straight flush. I suggested that this be called the gin card--not for the usual reason you hear that term, but because it makes you turn to a bottle of gin for solace.

AVP tournament

I have mentioned here many times the web site http://www.allvegaspoker.com/, which is where the core of my readers first came from, as I got known a little bit there before I got brave and decided to start a site for my own writing here. They sponsor two or three live tournaments a year, and I make an effort to participate. The site is a valuable resource to me for news and infomation about the city's poker rooms, and I'm eager to keep up good relationships with its organizers and its members, even though my direct interaction with the site is limited to brief, occasional comments, as most of my poker-related thoughts go here instead.

Last night was one of the AVP events, a mixed-game tournament at the Mirage. We had Omaha/8, stud/8, razz, and 2-7 triple draw. This was a tweaked version of the game structure used in late March at Treasure Island. I made the final table in that tournament, and was one of six to cash. I'm proud to report that I basically repeated that feat, again making the final table and finishing in third place. But I got just a bit less than 2nd-place money, because the last three left agreed to an even chop of the money, following which deal I went out on the next hand. After tips and giving a bit to the bubble girl (the unfortunate but lovely and charming Mrs. Lederer), I pocketed $290 in prize money on a $70 buy-in for a little under six hours of play, plus an extra $50 for knocking out one of the two bounty players ("Other Dave").

It was an up-and-down ride. I started off very well, getting an early lead and maintaining a big stack for a long time. But then I had a downfall, ended up terribly short. I finally got all in against Mrs. L., and got quartered in Omaha, so was down to a quarter of a short stack! But I survived a series of all-ins, gaining strength. The real turning point was a big pot in stud/8, in which I started with (2-4)-4, made trips on 4th street and a full house on fifth. (Yes, the Mighty Deuce-Four works in stud, too!) My opponent made two pair and so called me all the way down, but couldn't complete her low draw or boat up her pairs. That, plus a few more smaller pots in rapid succession thereafter, put me in the chip lead by the time we consolidated to the final table of eight (or perhaps approximately tied for it; there was a guy named Karl that had a very nearly equal stack).

Then I suffered another downfall, doubled up somebody in razz after heavy betting. I started with 2-3-4, added an A, then went Q-J-Q, and he beat me with a 10-low. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! From that point on, I was always one of the two or three shortest stacks, and had to carefully nurse it to the finish line. Fortunately I tripled up in a critical spot: I was under the gun with A-J-7-4 in the final minute of a level. If I folded this hand, the blinds would have gone up for the next hand when I was in the big blind, and I'd be pot-committed to a random hand. I thought what I was looking at was a better bet than the next random one, so I went with it. It held for a full triple, which bought me crucial chips and time to wait for high-percentage spots for my few remaining moves.

On one of the early rounds of 2-7, I was dealt a most remarkable hand: 7-7-7-7-8! I think I've only been dealt quads once before, and that was in a round of Omaha/8 in an online HORSE tournament. It's a pretty bad O8 hand, but a far worse 2-7 hand. I flashed it to Mrs. Lederer (seated to my right most of the night) before mucking, and she laughed out loud.

But of course I got a few good cards, too. In fact, I had been thinking earlier in the day about doing a post on the forms of poker in which I have and have not ever been dealt the best possible starting hand--a thought prompted by winning a big pot with A-A over Q-Q in a cash game at the Venetian before heading across the street to the Mirage. I have, of course, had A-A in hold'em, A-2-3 in razz, A-A-A in stud, and A-2-3 suited in stud/8. As I wrote about at the time, I was even fortunate enough to be dealt 2-3-4-5-7 in triple draw in the March AVP tournament. (In fact, somebody else at tonight's table told the story of how I messed up that hand and exposed my cards before the draws were done--not remembering that one of the people to whom he was relating the story was the one who had done it!) But I had never been given A-A-2-3 double-suited in Omaha/8. Until tonight, that is. I can now cross that one off of my bucket list, as I was delighted to look down and see Ah2hAd3d at one point. I raised pre-flop and bet the flop and took it down before showing off my enviable assortment of cards.

I also saw a situation that I don't think I've noticed before. In a stud/8 hand, four players were still in on fourth street. The up cards of two of them were unpaired, but the other two were each showing paired fours. One had the reds, the other the blacks. What is the rule on who acts first in that situation? Is the person with the spade declared high and first to act? Does it revert to who was low on third street? (That wouldn't make much sense as a rule, because it might have been neither of them--and then what?)

I had a great time playing. It was genuinely a lot of fun. Even though my favorite tablemate Cardgrrl couldn't be there this time, I enjoyed it more than the one in the spring for a few reasons. First, they had the kinks worked out of the structure better. Second, I wasn't nauseous and cranky through the whole thing as I was then. Third, my starting table was just a fine group of people, all having fun. Fourth, I got to sit next to and chat with Mrs. Lederer for most of the night and my friend NerveEnding at the final table. Fifth, I was the undeserving beneficiary of some generosity on the part of the final two left, who offered an even money chop even though I had fewer than half of the chips they were sitting on at the time. Sixth, I could use Twitter to keep up on the goings-on at the Rio. (For some unfathomable reason, most of the poker media was watching some little-bitty tournament over there instead of ours. Go figure.) Seventh, I had enough presence of mind, plus enough additional experience in the games, that I made far fewer rookie errors this time around. I only once thought the game was different than what it was (we had moved from razz to stud/8, and I had missed that announcement). Luckily, I realized the mistake before the betting round on fourth street, so the damage was minimal. Lastly, it didn't go until after 2 in the morning like the previous one did, which was just killer on the brain.

I attribute all the goodness of the event to the fact that I was wearing the wonderful and ultra-lucky Grumpy hoodie given to me last year by Cardgrrl. I couldn't lose!


The photo above is one I snapped on my cell phone as I walked through the domed garden on the way to the Mirage poker room. They had several floral arrangements set up along the walkway. These orchids had the most brilliant lavender color I've ever seen. The photos I took just can't reproduce the intensity of the hues. Simply gorgeous.


Addendum

Several photos of the event can be found here: http://twitpic.com/photos/Sauza262


More photos here: http://www.vegaspokernow.com/main/index.php?action=media;sa=album;in=18

Guess the casino, #684

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Answer: Santa Fe Station

Guess the casino, #683

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Answer: Trick question! It's not a casino at all. It's McCarran Airport! (But they do have slot machines.)

Guess the casino, #682

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Answer: Mandalay Bay

What's in a screen name? #16

Nice name, but definitely should have as an avatar a tamping iron. Or maybe a stick of dynamite.

(For those in need of a little remedial education on your history of neurology, see here.)

Guess the casino, #681

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Answer: South Point

Interesting hand discussion

http://wickedchopspoker.com/this-week-in-poker-with-alex-outhred-brian-rast-and-jason-calacanis/

Jump ahead to 53:25, watch through about the 1:07:00 mark. It's an interesting analysis of an extremely difficult spot that Jason Calacanis was put in during an episode of PokerStars "The Big Game." Brian Rast runs the numbers and concludes that Jason probably made the right decision mathematically, independent of the outcome (which would have been truly ugly).

The agony of defeat

If by some chance you don't know what hand these screen shots are from, see Shamus's excellent write-up from this morning.

I'll tell ya, even knowing in advance exactly what would be coming, and exactly when it would be coming, it was still the single most painful moment I've ever seen in televised poker.

Guess the casino, #680

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Answer: Planet Hollywood

Seriously?

So I'm reading the November 8 issue of Poker Player newspaper, and come to a column by somebody called John "The Scientist" Hayes. This is part 6 of a series documenting his "$500 poker challenge." I have just skimmed through others, so I have only a dim idea of what he is setting out to accomplish. But for some reason I read this installment in its entirety.

It left me shaking my head, wondering if this is serious.

The guy comes to Vegas with a $500 bankroll. His first night, he plays $4-8 limit at Boulder Station, makes $180. The second night he goes to Golden Nugget, has two double martinis, and loses all his money, except for $60, playing $2-$4 limit. He loses the last $60 the next morning, though he doesn't say exactly how.

The penultimate paragraph, though, is the kicker: "To make a long story short, after three weeks in a homeless shelter, I finally get the wherewithal to return to Los Angeles. Obviously, I am back to square one, raising a new $500 bankroll to continue the Poker Challenge."

Does Poker Player newspaper seriously employ as a columnist somebody who didn't just take $500 from his discretionary income to see what he could make of it at poker (kind of a low-rent, live version of Chris Ferguson's famous online bankroll-building experiment), but who took the last $500 to his name for that purpose--and then blew it all in one shot playing while playing drunk at the lowest-stakes game Vegas has to offer, and had to go live in a homeless shelter?

Or is this some sort of gag, with me being the only one too dense to see where the joke is?

I think of the talented, experienced poker writers I know who have lost their jobs in the industry, and this is who PPN has putting together columns for them?

Seriously?


Addendum

Here's a link to the first five parts of his series: http://pokerplayernewspaper.com/category/authors/john-hayes

I'm rereading them now to get some perspective. Get this: At the end of each of the first five parts, the blurb about him says, "hosts Ask the Scientist, a live call-in poker instruction show on http://www.hpstv.tv/ at the Hollywood Poker School in Hollywood Park Casino." That just raises the WTF quotient another level: A guy who is so stupid and talentless that he will lose his entire bankroll playing $2-4 limit while drunk is holding himself out as a poker instructor? The mind reels. What a surprise--that bit of information has been excised from part 6 of his series.

The back story also gets simultaneously funnier and sadder. The series of columns was supposed to last for a year and a half. He managed to churn out the first five columns without playing a single hand of poker, just jawing about the parameters, what books and consultants he would use, and scouting out locations. Then he blows the whole thing in one night. It's going to be mighty hard to put out another year's worth of columns now.

The challenge is over. He says that he is going to "continue" it, but that's a lie. It's done. In his own words, the terms of the challenge were: "Start with $500 and build a poker bankroll over a period of one year into a substantial bankroll." It doesn't say, "Start with $500 as many times as necessary."

On those days when I fall into a funk and hear that ugly voice in my head accusatorily saying "loser," I'm going to think of this guy and cheer up.

Or, again, perhaps the whole thing is one big joke and I'm missing it. I kind of hope so, because I'd really rather learn that I had been leveled than that this is what passes for poker journalism.

What's in a screen name? #15

Candid self-assessment, or sly "That's what I want you to think" labeling?

What does a brain look like when bluffing?

Science now has the answer!

http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/notrocketscience/2010/11/01/the-signature-of-the-bluffing-brain/

(Hat tip: Cardgrrl.)

Guess the casino, #679

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Answer: MGM Grand

Immigration

If you don't think the United States has insane policies, practices, and procedures related to immigration, go read Terrence "Not Johnny" Chan's blog post from earlier today, describing how he is not being allowed to visit here from his home in Canada:

http://terrencechan.livejournal.com/354717.html

Guess the casino, #678

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Answer: Hard Rock