Gbob
01-12-2005, 03:32 AM
I hope nobody minds this posts. I got the idea this week to document each weeks games as i continue my quest to master the game.
It's Sunday night in Buffalo. Football season is, once again, over too soon. The weather is gray and cold, and it won't get better anytime soon. The NHL is still locked out, and bars are closing left and right due to draconian New York State anti-smoking laws. Thank god there's allways poker. Come Sunday, in a small house off of Elmwood Ave, there's allways a good game to be had. This week would not be one of those good games for me.
The game at "Casino Buffalo" has been going on for years now. The Poker table has seen a great deal of action over the past decade. The green felt is worn, and there's a seat where some nasty nails tend to snag your sleeves. The mini-bar is full of beer, and liquor bottles line the mantle underneath the painting of dogs playing poker. There's a core group. "M" is an aggressive player who, a couple of years ago, decided he liked playing poker better than working. "K Dog" is a chef at an upscale restaurant, and a methodical player. "N" is a hot shot kid, who allways seems to walk away a winner. He was a weak player who went down south and learned how to play. "J" is a player so tight that light seems to bend around his fingers.
Then there's me. When I moved back to the city of Buffalo a couple years back, I was a family guy with too many responsibilities to spend time gambling and boozing. I had played poker on and off over the years, but not that seriously. When I got an invite to this table, I didn't think it would become as regular to my Sunday nights as coffee is to my mornings. It's a good group and it's teaching me how to be a better player.
It's post Christmas, and I'm playing catch up with the Christmas bills. I'm getting over a cold, and I was worn ragged trying to keep my son out of my wifes' hair all day. With only 40 dollars in my wallet and my bankroll for the year spent on Christmas presents, this
is one week I'm going to call it quits. Hell, earlier in the week at the local pub, I heard tell that people were discussing my play and noticing that I was on a winning streak. Best to keep my head down and fly under the radar by skipping this week. When "M" calls at 9 from a local bar, I tell him there's no way.
"Too bad" he says. "Two new players tonite."
My ears perk up. All of a sudden that 40 dollars looks alot larger than it is. "Hmm....are they any good?"
He chuckles. This should be a good night. It smells like a good night. I haven't lost money in close to two months, and there's no reason to let the streak die. Time to find my pants and get a move on.
The dining room the house is dominated by the poker table. A policeportrait of ol' Blue eyes looks down from his poster, and signs warn
new players that the casino is monitored on cameras. One of these days we might even get a camera. The crew is sitting around talking
about how the mood at the table has changed recently. A player had been playing to loose and got himself in debt. There was some bad blood and nasty words the previous week. Part of me feels bad that we didn't reign this player in when he was so wild and loose...then again, his money was good and belonged in my pocket as much as his. Hopefully he'll simmer down and come back a better player. The two new players are everything I hoped for. One was a nice college age girl and her friend, a hippy who wants to be refreshed on the basics of how to play. Does it get any better than this?
The first hand comes up. The game is hold 'em, and I'm dealt KQ suited. Mid position, two checks to me. bet big and everyone calls. Figures. The game will often start loose aggressive, and with two new players, what else did I expect? The board comes up JTx rainbow. I get two bets into me, but the odds look good. Miss the straight and the pair. No problem. That's the odds. Next hand. Another pair of suited connectors. Another open ended straight. Another miss. I'm down half my stack in just two hands. Third hand. Guess what I get? Yeah, suited connectors. Guess what I missed?
I go on reverse tilt. All of a sudden nothing looks good. I miss two more straights in the first hour by laying it down pre-flop and I spiral out of control. If someone handed me 4 bullets I would be too scared to bet. In the meanwhile the rest of the core group manages to separate the new folks from their money.
The night doesn't get much better. It's not that my cards are bad, or my pre-flop play is bad. It's my post-flop play that's killing me. I'm spooked off pots and my stack is too low to play anything but the primo hands. What's worse is that my plays are read a mile away. Flop is AA2 and I have nothing. "N", my nemesis every week, has nothing. I can feel it. I'm in position for a bluff with my QTd. I make the kind of bet he would expect me to make with an ace...and he calls. He calls me all the way, and with his K high, wins the pot.
While I'm floundering, the fish are swimming. Hippy is calling crazy games and betting erratically. Innocent college girl is deep at the bottom of a bottle and has bought in again for god knows how many times. My friends amass their stacks. By two in the morning, the girl is down to her last chips. Her and "M" are facing off over the board. The river comes up and you can see disaster approaching. She exposes her hand, forgetting there's another round of betting. She has a pair of sixes. "M" covers it. She's drunk and some of us are feeling uneasy about it.
"C'mon 'M'. Give her a break. She showed you her cards first. Give her the chance to get out of the hand." It goes against poker etiquette to give her this chance, but you can't help but feel sorry for her.
"I wanna bet" she slurs, knocking over her stack.
"Nope" said "D". "He knows what you have and he still bet. Save your money and call it a night."
M hesitates. He's never let anyone out of a hand but he nods. Everyone is pleasantly surprised by his gentlemanly behavior. As she's cashing in her last chips she asks him how much he had her beat by. He lays down his hand. He had nothing.
"I knew when you laid your cards out people would tell you to fold. Only chance I had of taking the money in the pot."
We love "M", but sometimes he's a dick. Dejectedly, the poor girl stumbles out into the cold night.
"That was pretty damn uncool" I say. "I mean, I'm all for being ruthless in poker, but somehow it doesn't feel right taking advantage
of a girl like that. It's sexist and biased of me, but that's the way I feel."
"Don't feel any sympathy for her. You know what she does for a living, Bob?" he asks.
"College?"
"Nope. She just wears that college sweatshirt when she's working. She's a pool hustler. We used to work bars together before people started to recognize her. I would play poorly, get challenged and asked to pick a team member. I'ld say 'that girl' for my team and we would wipe the floor with them. It's her act."
Good enough then. A half hour later I'm out the door myself. How could I be playing so badly? I bust out when I play two pair, only to discover I misread my cards and only had one. I'm standing up when "K Dog" tosses me a few dollars. "We're going to the bar in about a half
hour. Play a hand. Remember, the past four hours didn't happen. It's a new table." He's a calming influence. I settle down, hating the fact I'm playing on borrowed money. I figure I'll just slow play a few hands, then head out. First hand is AK, and after that everything shakes lose. I turn a few dollars into sixty and walk out a winner...even if it isn't very much of a win.
For me, my night ends at 5. I'm tired. Two new players joined in at 4:30, but I didn't like their looks. Turns out I was right as one of them did a hit and run after catching two running 5s to crack a full house. He then grabbed the ships and left a couple minutes later. That's another story, though.
Casino Buffalo is, for me, a learning experience, and the whole point of writing about my night is to become a better player. How did the
night go wrong for me? Why didn't I win?
I didn't realize why untill the next day. What I forgot to do was think about what the other people were playing, and I concentrated too much on my own cards. For the life of me, I don't think I kept any mental notes about what the other players style was that evening. I wasn't analyzing their hands, their positions or the meaning behind their bets. Statistics tell me that a percentage of the hands I laid down were better, but because I didn't think about what they held, I couldn't take advantage of them. Someone could have been playing a draw or a small pair and I couldn't tell...even worse, I didn't care.
Lesson for the week. Pay close attention to what the other people have. You know how to play any variation of cards in the deck. Do that on auto-pilot and play the players, not the cards.
Next week my goal is mix things up a bit with my style.
It's Sunday night in Buffalo. Football season is, once again, over too soon. The weather is gray and cold, and it won't get better anytime soon. The NHL is still locked out, and bars are closing left and right due to draconian New York State anti-smoking laws. Thank god there's allways poker. Come Sunday, in a small house off of Elmwood Ave, there's allways a good game to be had. This week would not be one of those good games for me.
The game at "Casino Buffalo" has been going on for years now. The Poker table has seen a great deal of action over the past decade. The green felt is worn, and there's a seat where some nasty nails tend to snag your sleeves. The mini-bar is full of beer, and liquor bottles line the mantle underneath the painting of dogs playing poker. There's a core group. "M" is an aggressive player who, a couple of years ago, decided he liked playing poker better than working. "K Dog" is a chef at an upscale restaurant, and a methodical player. "N" is a hot shot kid, who allways seems to walk away a winner. He was a weak player who went down south and learned how to play. "J" is a player so tight that light seems to bend around his fingers.
Then there's me. When I moved back to the city of Buffalo a couple years back, I was a family guy with too many responsibilities to spend time gambling and boozing. I had played poker on and off over the years, but not that seriously. When I got an invite to this table, I didn't think it would become as regular to my Sunday nights as coffee is to my mornings. It's a good group and it's teaching me how to be a better player.
It's post Christmas, and I'm playing catch up with the Christmas bills. I'm getting over a cold, and I was worn ragged trying to keep my son out of my wifes' hair all day. With only 40 dollars in my wallet and my bankroll for the year spent on Christmas presents, this
is one week I'm going to call it quits. Hell, earlier in the week at the local pub, I heard tell that people were discussing my play and noticing that I was on a winning streak. Best to keep my head down and fly under the radar by skipping this week. When "M" calls at 9 from a local bar, I tell him there's no way.
"Too bad" he says. "Two new players tonite."
My ears perk up. All of a sudden that 40 dollars looks alot larger than it is. "Hmm....are they any good?"
He chuckles. This should be a good night. It smells like a good night. I haven't lost money in close to two months, and there's no reason to let the streak die. Time to find my pants and get a move on.
The dining room the house is dominated by the poker table. A policeportrait of ol' Blue eyes looks down from his poster, and signs warn
new players that the casino is monitored on cameras. One of these days we might even get a camera. The crew is sitting around talking
about how the mood at the table has changed recently. A player had been playing to loose and got himself in debt. There was some bad blood and nasty words the previous week. Part of me feels bad that we didn't reign this player in when he was so wild and loose...then again, his money was good and belonged in my pocket as much as his. Hopefully he'll simmer down and come back a better player. The two new players are everything I hoped for. One was a nice college age girl and her friend, a hippy who wants to be refreshed on the basics of how to play. Does it get any better than this?
The first hand comes up. The game is hold 'em, and I'm dealt KQ suited. Mid position, two checks to me. bet big and everyone calls. Figures. The game will often start loose aggressive, and with two new players, what else did I expect? The board comes up JTx rainbow. I get two bets into me, but the odds look good. Miss the straight and the pair. No problem. That's the odds. Next hand. Another pair of suited connectors. Another open ended straight. Another miss. I'm down half my stack in just two hands. Third hand. Guess what I get? Yeah, suited connectors. Guess what I missed?
I go on reverse tilt. All of a sudden nothing looks good. I miss two more straights in the first hour by laying it down pre-flop and I spiral out of control. If someone handed me 4 bullets I would be too scared to bet. In the meanwhile the rest of the core group manages to separate the new folks from their money.
The night doesn't get much better. It's not that my cards are bad, or my pre-flop play is bad. It's my post-flop play that's killing me. I'm spooked off pots and my stack is too low to play anything but the primo hands. What's worse is that my plays are read a mile away. Flop is AA2 and I have nothing. "N", my nemesis every week, has nothing. I can feel it. I'm in position for a bluff with my QTd. I make the kind of bet he would expect me to make with an ace...and he calls. He calls me all the way, and with his K high, wins the pot.
While I'm floundering, the fish are swimming. Hippy is calling crazy games and betting erratically. Innocent college girl is deep at the bottom of a bottle and has bought in again for god knows how many times. My friends amass their stacks. By two in the morning, the girl is down to her last chips. Her and "M" are facing off over the board. The river comes up and you can see disaster approaching. She exposes her hand, forgetting there's another round of betting. She has a pair of sixes. "M" covers it. She's drunk and some of us are feeling uneasy about it.
"C'mon 'M'. Give her a break. She showed you her cards first. Give her the chance to get out of the hand." It goes against poker etiquette to give her this chance, but you can't help but feel sorry for her.
"I wanna bet" she slurs, knocking over her stack.
"Nope" said "D". "He knows what you have and he still bet. Save your money and call it a night."
M hesitates. He's never let anyone out of a hand but he nods. Everyone is pleasantly surprised by his gentlemanly behavior. As she's cashing in her last chips she asks him how much he had her beat by. He lays down his hand. He had nothing.
"I knew when you laid your cards out people would tell you to fold. Only chance I had of taking the money in the pot."
We love "M", but sometimes he's a dick. Dejectedly, the poor girl stumbles out into the cold night.
"That was pretty damn uncool" I say. "I mean, I'm all for being ruthless in poker, but somehow it doesn't feel right taking advantage
of a girl like that. It's sexist and biased of me, but that's the way I feel."
"Don't feel any sympathy for her. You know what she does for a living, Bob?" he asks.
"College?"
"Nope. She just wears that college sweatshirt when she's working. She's a pool hustler. We used to work bars together before people started to recognize her. I would play poorly, get challenged and asked to pick a team member. I'ld say 'that girl' for my team and we would wipe the floor with them. It's her act."
Good enough then. A half hour later I'm out the door myself. How could I be playing so badly? I bust out when I play two pair, only to discover I misread my cards and only had one. I'm standing up when "K Dog" tosses me a few dollars. "We're going to the bar in about a half
hour. Play a hand. Remember, the past four hours didn't happen. It's a new table." He's a calming influence. I settle down, hating the fact I'm playing on borrowed money. I figure I'll just slow play a few hands, then head out. First hand is AK, and after that everything shakes lose. I turn a few dollars into sixty and walk out a winner...even if it isn't very much of a win.
For me, my night ends at 5. I'm tired. Two new players joined in at 4:30, but I didn't like their looks. Turns out I was right as one of them did a hit and run after catching two running 5s to crack a full house. He then grabbed the ships and left a couple minutes later. That's another story, though.
Casino Buffalo is, for me, a learning experience, and the whole point of writing about my night is to become a better player. How did the
night go wrong for me? Why didn't I win?
I didn't realize why untill the next day. What I forgot to do was think about what the other people were playing, and I concentrated too much on my own cards. For the life of me, I don't think I kept any mental notes about what the other players style was that evening. I wasn't analyzing their hands, their positions or the meaning behind their bets. Statistics tell me that a percentage of the hands I laid down were better, but because I didn't think about what they held, I couldn't take advantage of them. Someone could have been playing a draw or a small pair and I couldn't tell...even worse, I didn't care.
Lesson for the week. Pay close attention to what the other people have. You know how to play any variation of cards in the deck. Do that on auto-pilot and play the players, not the cards.
Next week my goal is mix things up a bit with my style.