Howard Treesong
06-16-2005, 01:47 PM
LHE isn’t my best game. I don’t log many hours at it, and even a great decision usually only results in a delta of a bet or two. And I’m not usually aggressive enough to push the small edges hard, which I believe is a requirement of that game. But I catch a break in two respects: first, my table is right in front of the stage, which means we’re not breaking until deep in the tournament. That means that other players suffer from an information deficit at critical times; not me. And second, two-time world champion Johnny Chan sits down two seats to my right. This may not seem like much of a break, but I’ve had a multi-year prop with a buddy of mine in which we each pay $20 into every tournament in which a former WSOP champ also enters. The money goes to the guy that first busts a champ.
In addition to Chan, there are several twenty-something online players, all of whom seem to know their stuff. They’re very aggressive and clearly understand the math. That said, they occasionally play too fast. Noah (“Exclusive”) Boeken is a good example. He moves into the one seat and raises from MP; with one caller, I defend in the BB with Ac6c. The 110:1 flop hits me right between the eyes, with a Qc Tc 4c. I check and Boeken bets. Caller mucks and I smooth call. I let Boeken bet it all the way on the 7d and 5s, then river-raise, which he instacalls. He shows JJ. I understand the value of aggression, but that’s taking it a couple of steps too far.
I make one significant mistake by button-raising with 4c2c. Chuck Schultz, the eventual eighth-place finisher, has moved into the nine seat. He’s a big guy who doesn’t move his chips like he plays often in live games, so I decide to see if I can push him out of a pot. Answer: no. I bluff off three bets and get called on the river. Okay, I’m showing and then tightening up a gear. That strategy works well, as a nice fat Kxx hits my AK and I get called all the way down by KQ. Chan gets in trouble by losing a big pot, then raises my blind for his last full bet. It’s an easy call on my part; I have a decent stack and Qc3c. He shows JcTc and my hand stands up. Bounty collected! Sweet!
The middle hours of the tournament are a blur. I never get into serious trouble. I manage to chip up a little bit, but then go card dead and watch the young Internet guy in the four seat hit a huge rush and win seven full pots. The flop hits a seven; he has eights. An opponent flops two pair to his AK, but the lucksack has hit his set. Bang, bang, and the guy has almost $15K in chips playing $100-200. I remain card dead and don’t play a hand for an hour. I then steal one and make a small one, and I stay in reasonable shape.
David Chiu moves in one seat to my left. He and I instantly start ragging on one another, then he pulls a funny one by unplugging my headphones from my IPOD, cranking up the volume, then plugging it back in. Ouch. I get my revenge when I stack up a pot from him, then he goes bust. My old nemesis from the 2/04 Commerce final, Tony Ma, steps into the one seat with a short stack. He raises for his case chips and I find AcJc and call. He has KQ and HGHN.
Back to the blur zone: we’re near the bubble, and I’m a little short after finding AK three times and missing all three -- two in multiway pots. There’s zero shot I have the best hand either time and have to muck to the flop bets; this is a great way to zing your stack. I get down to about $7K, but hit AK twice more, flop to it and collect two full pots each time. After the second one, it’s clear I’m going to make the money, so I gear up and steal three or four pots near the bubble, when everyone is playing tight. That works well, and I get up as high as about $30K.
No Treesong trip report would be complete without the requisite conversation with Daniel. When we’re just over the bubble, play gets pretty active. Another table gets shorthanded and I’m in the BB, so I get moved. I’m pulling in a pot as the floorman comes over, and it takes me a minute or so to stack the chips and rack ‘em. By the time I get to the new table (one seat), the dealer has already dealt a hand, so I come into the small blind position. The dealer deals around me. I suggest that I should get a hand, but Negreanu, in the two seat, says no. I shut the hell up. Danny, who perhaps knows me just well enough to know that I’ll argue about just about anything, then says, as he raises, “Well, I guess I know why you’re not arguing about THAT one.” Danny busts on the hand (Daniel’s K5 raise from the SB runs into KQ and a K on the flop), and I quip: “Always nice to see you, Danny,” and get a chuckle from the table -- and from him.
Daniel heads off to play Barry G. Me, I raise out of the SB with KJ and get reraised from the SB by a pleasant young man wearing a Google hat. The BB mucks. The flop comes KTx rainbow and I check to a very possible AK. He checks behind. The turn comes with a big fat J that could cut either way, but I’m on a short stack and I either want to double or bust, so I decide to get aggressive and bet out. He raises and I three-bet. When he lets out a quiet “oh, no,” and reluctantly calls, I know he’s not holding the AQ. I bet the river blank and he again slowly calls, but his AK can’t beat me and I stack up a nice pot. For the first time in a while, I don’t feel like I’m chip-critical. Google compliments my JOPKE hat, which sparks a conversation about whining players and bad beats. Bad omen!
Next orbit, Google raises my BB. UTG +2 calls, and a younger, thinner version of the Unabomber three-bets from sixth position. The SB mucks and I find AA. Rerai! Fold, fold, call. $19K in the pot and the flop comes 8c 9s 2d. I bet, Unabomber calls. $22K in. Turn comes 6h, and if this young man is playing T7 off for three bets preflop and a cap behind, then he’s a better man than I am. I bet out. He raises. I three-bet and he calls. $40K. T on the river, and I bet again. I’m thinking Final Table, Baby, but Unabomber raises his two case $500 chips after my river bet. “Final Table” turns into “You must be shitting me,” as I call the two. It’s a huge pot: $48K. He shows TT. Yikes. The straight outs help his hand on the turn but good lord, what did he think I was going to fold to the turn raise? Thankfully, a break comes, and I go off to share my misery with a co-worker who was playing a satellite. Who do I find next to him, but Tanya Peck, who overhears my bad beat story and, somewhat condescendingly, says, “OK, Howard, so the [censored] what? Stop your whining, put it back in the deck and keep playing.” It’s a much-needed reality check, and I resolve to take the advice.
Tanya’s words aside, a tough beat towards the end of a long session of a tournament is a serious test of steam control. I took a short walk back to my table, gave my stack a riff, and counted down: $21K. Not long, by any means, but at 7BB, enough to play a full pot. I order a beer and told myself to get back to work. The cards were back in the air forthwith. I muck for an orbit, then find AK and raise: no customers. Breathing room! The very next hand, I find JJ in EP and raise. Everyone mucks to John Myung, in the BB, who calls. Flop is 9 6 4 rainbow, and Myung check-calls. Same action to the turn 8. A duck hits the river and Myung bets. WTF? I call and he shows pocket deuces. Wow. Myung told me later that he thought I was steaming off from the AA beat and made a terrible read. At this point, I’m down to $9K and am at risk of being dismissed before my beer arrives. That would suck.
The fates will otherwise, however, as I find QQ in the BB. Mimi Tran, who has moved in one seat to my right, raises from the SB and and I three bet it. My case money goes in on the turn to a low board, and she shows KJ. The Unabomberish young man who spiked a T on me a little while before, Daniel Clegg, says “good luck, sir. You deserve it.” That gets a laugh, but I manage to double through, and survive to day two with $21K, playing $3-6K. The beer was delicious.
I’m running on fumes when we break. There are two stacks lower than mine, with 21 remaining, and I’m despondent over the JJ and AA beats. But Mrs. Treesong consoles me on the long, slow walk back to my room at the Rio, and she rightly points out that tomorrow is another day, and that I’ll no doubt feel better in the morning. The Rio pavilion seems at least a mile from the hotel itself, and the casino is smoky, noisy and hopping. I walk though it, feeling detached from the revelry, almost separate from the universe itself, and find blessed sleep.
[One note: after making the final table on day two and busting out ninth, I did stop by the Wynn to see the poker room. Danny and Barry were playing their $500,000 freezeout, and I decided to sweat it for a few minutes. I stood there, silent. After a few moments, Danny said: “I take it you’re out of it, then.” I indicated that I was. Barry asked me a question about something, and the three of us got involved in a short, casual conversation. All the while, Barry and Danny are playing $4000-$8000 stud. What was stunning was the totally relaxed nature of the game. Neither man seemed particularly focused, or intense. Both were in a somewhat detailed conversation with someone they hardly know, and Barry was playing in such a way that I could easily sweat his hole cards during the hand. In that three minutes, there was at least one pot that was raised fifth street and called to the river; that’s about a $50,000 pot. The whole thing seemed entirely surreal to me.]
In addition to Chan, there are several twenty-something online players, all of whom seem to know their stuff. They’re very aggressive and clearly understand the math. That said, they occasionally play too fast. Noah (“Exclusive”) Boeken is a good example. He moves into the one seat and raises from MP; with one caller, I defend in the BB with Ac6c. The 110:1 flop hits me right between the eyes, with a Qc Tc 4c. I check and Boeken bets. Caller mucks and I smooth call. I let Boeken bet it all the way on the 7d and 5s, then river-raise, which he instacalls. He shows JJ. I understand the value of aggression, but that’s taking it a couple of steps too far.
I make one significant mistake by button-raising with 4c2c. Chuck Schultz, the eventual eighth-place finisher, has moved into the nine seat. He’s a big guy who doesn’t move his chips like he plays often in live games, so I decide to see if I can push him out of a pot. Answer: no. I bluff off three bets and get called on the river. Okay, I’m showing and then tightening up a gear. That strategy works well, as a nice fat Kxx hits my AK and I get called all the way down by KQ. Chan gets in trouble by losing a big pot, then raises my blind for his last full bet. It’s an easy call on my part; I have a decent stack and Qc3c. He shows JcTc and my hand stands up. Bounty collected! Sweet!
The middle hours of the tournament are a blur. I never get into serious trouble. I manage to chip up a little bit, but then go card dead and watch the young Internet guy in the four seat hit a huge rush and win seven full pots. The flop hits a seven; he has eights. An opponent flops two pair to his AK, but the lucksack has hit his set. Bang, bang, and the guy has almost $15K in chips playing $100-200. I remain card dead and don’t play a hand for an hour. I then steal one and make a small one, and I stay in reasonable shape.
David Chiu moves in one seat to my left. He and I instantly start ragging on one another, then he pulls a funny one by unplugging my headphones from my IPOD, cranking up the volume, then plugging it back in. Ouch. I get my revenge when I stack up a pot from him, then he goes bust. My old nemesis from the 2/04 Commerce final, Tony Ma, steps into the one seat with a short stack. He raises for his case chips and I find AcJc and call. He has KQ and HGHN.
Back to the blur zone: we’re near the bubble, and I’m a little short after finding AK three times and missing all three -- two in multiway pots. There’s zero shot I have the best hand either time and have to muck to the flop bets; this is a great way to zing your stack. I get down to about $7K, but hit AK twice more, flop to it and collect two full pots each time. After the second one, it’s clear I’m going to make the money, so I gear up and steal three or four pots near the bubble, when everyone is playing tight. That works well, and I get up as high as about $30K.
No Treesong trip report would be complete without the requisite conversation with Daniel. When we’re just over the bubble, play gets pretty active. Another table gets shorthanded and I’m in the BB, so I get moved. I’m pulling in a pot as the floorman comes over, and it takes me a minute or so to stack the chips and rack ‘em. By the time I get to the new table (one seat), the dealer has already dealt a hand, so I come into the small blind position. The dealer deals around me. I suggest that I should get a hand, but Negreanu, in the two seat, says no. I shut the hell up. Danny, who perhaps knows me just well enough to know that I’ll argue about just about anything, then says, as he raises, “Well, I guess I know why you’re not arguing about THAT one.” Danny busts on the hand (Daniel’s K5 raise from the SB runs into KQ and a K on the flop), and I quip: “Always nice to see you, Danny,” and get a chuckle from the table -- and from him.
Daniel heads off to play Barry G. Me, I raise out of the SB with KJ and get reraised from the SB by a pleasant young man wearing a Google hat. The BB mucks. The flop comes KTx rainbow and I check to a very possible AK. He checks behind. The turn comes with a big fat J that could cut either way, but I’m on a short stack and I either want to double or bust, so I decide to get aggressive and bet out. He raises and I three-bet. When he lets out a quiet “oh, no,” and reluctantly calls, I know he’s not holding the AQ. I bet the river blank and he again slowly calls, but his AK can’t beat me and I stack up a nice pot. For the first time in a while, I don’t feel like I’m chip-critical. Google compliments my JOPKE hat, which sparks a conversation about whining players and bad beats. Bad omen!
Next orbit, Google raises my BB. UTG +2 calls, and a younger, thinner version of the Unabomber three-bets from sixth position. The SB mucks and I find AA. Rerai! Fold, fold, call. $19K in the pot and the flop comes 8c 9s 2d. I bet, Unabomber calls. $22K in. Turn comes 6h, and if this young man is playing T7 off for three bets preflop and a cap behind, then he’s a better man than I am. I bet out. He raises. I three-bet and he calls. $40K. T on the river, and I bet again. I’m thinking Final Table, Baby, but Unabomber raises his two case $500 chips after my river bet. “Final Table” turns into “You must be shitting me,” as I call the two. It’s a huge pot: $48K. He shows TT. Yikes. The straight outs help his hand on the turn but good lord, what did he think I was going to fold to the turn raise? Thankfully, a break comes, and I go off to share my misery with a co-worker who was playing a satellite. Who do I find next to him, but Tanya Peck, who overhears my bad beat story and, somewhat condescendingly, says, “OK, Howard, so the [censored] what? Stop your whining, put it back in the deck and keep playing.” It’s a much-needed reality check, and I resolve to take the advice.
Tanya’s words aside, a tough beat towards the end of a long session of a tournament is a serious test of steam control. I took a short walk back to my table, gave my stack a riff, and counted down: $21K. Not long, by any means, but at 7BB, enough to play a full pot. I order a beer and told myself to get back to work. The cards were back in the air forthwith. I muck for an orbit, then find AK and raise: no customers. Breathing room! The very next hand, I find JJ in EP and raise. Everyone mucks to John Myung, in the BB, who calls. Flop is 9 6 4 rainbow, and Myung check-calls. Same action to the turn 8. A duck hits the river and Myung bets. WTF? I call and he shows pocket deuces. Wow. Myung told me later that he thought I was steaming off from the AA beat and made a terrible read. At this point, I’m down to $9K and am at risk of being dismissed before my beer arrives. That would suck.
The fates will otherwise, however, as I find QQ in the BB. Mimi Tran, who has moved in one seat to my right, raises from the SB and and I three bet it. My case money goes in on the turn to a low board, and she shows KJ. The Unabomberish young man who spiked a T on me a little while before, Daniel Clegg, says “good luck, sir. You deserve it.” That gets a laugh, but I manage to double through, and survive to day two with $21K, playing $3-6K. The beer was delicious.
I’m running on fumes when we break. There are two stacks lower than mine, with 21 remaining, and I’m despondent over the JJ and AA beats. But Mrs. Treesong consoles me on the long, slow walk back to my room at the Rio, and she rightly points out that tomorrow is another day, and that I’ll no doubt feel better in the morning. The Rio pavilion seems at least a mile from the hotel itself, and the casino is smoky, noisy and hopping. I walk though it, feeling detached from the revelry, almost separate from the universe itself, and find blessed sleep.
[One note: after making the final table on day two and busting out ninth, I did stop by the Wynn to see the poker room. Danny and Barry were playing their $500,000 freezeout, and I decided to sweat it for a few minutes. I stood there, silent. After a few moments, Danny said: “I take it you’re out of it, then.” I indicated that I was. Barry asked me a question about something, and the three of us got involved in a short, casual conversation. All the while, Barry and Danny are playing $4000-$8000 stud. What was stunning was the totally relaxed nature of the game. Neither man seemed particularly focused, or intense. Both were in a somewhat detailed conversation with someone they hardly know, and Barry was playing in such a way that I could easily sweat his hole cards during the hand. In that three minutes, there was at least one pot that was raised fifth street and called to the river; that’s about a $50,000 pot. The whole thing seemed entirely surreal to me.]