I'm Kind of a Big Deal

The TBC Invitational, Part 1

This is the follow-up to the night of blogger’s poker that I wrote about here.  For this second session of blogger’s poker, Tony was not just imaginary.  He was there, in the flesh.

After the game I described at MGM, Tony expressed disappointment that he missed out on it.  He expressed this to both Pete Peters  and myself.  He sent me a direct message on Twitter that indicated that he not only wanted all of us to play poker together, but that he wanted me to post about it afterwards.

I have to say I felt a bit honored. I knew that, in the past, folks who know about the blog wanted me to write about them here.  But having such an esteemed blogger as TBC requesting this was something else.  I mean, someone with more page views on his blog than I could ever dream of, asking me to feature him in one of my posts? How could I say no?  I just hope this doesn’t turn out to be an example of that old Chinese proverb:  “Be careful what you wish for, you may get it.”

Pete and I both wanted to get together with Coach for another session anyway.  All we had to do was arrange for it to happen in a venue where Tony is allowed to play.  The Venetian or the Wynn were the two choices on the Strip (unless you count the Stratosphere, and I don’t).  We settled on Venetian.  Almost from the outset, the name “TBC Invitational” just came to us and stuck, even though it was open to anyone and it wasn’t a tournament.  We were all going to play 1/2 NLH.

Since we were having another night of blogger’s poker, with a rare appearance by Tony, we had to get the word out.  The three of us—and I guess Tony too—all posted on our blogs about the event that night.  I tweeted about it as well. A few people who might have made it appeared to be busy.  Tony sent me a tweet saying if I could find a baby sitter for Jennifer Gay, she could make it.  Of course, if you need a baby sitter in Vegas, I am your go-to guy!  Actually, when we met up, Tony said he had mistyped that and all he meant was that if she could find a baby sitter, she’d come.  I guess she didn’t find one.

And Pete and I did our best to convince the very real Alysia Chang to join us—mostly through comments on our blogs, since we don’t have any real contact info for her—but she had plans.  She indicated that she might stop by later if she wasn’t too tired, but unless she came in disguise, she never made it.

Tony had joined PPP and Coach for lunch that day but they had split up after that.  I would have joined them but I had a business lunch to attend. We didn’t have a set time, just show up this Friday evening (the Friday of Labor Day Weekend) at the V.

I got there before Pete and Coach, but long after Tony.  When I arrived, I toured the poker room and found him in a 1/2 game sitting behind a nice stack of chips.  I went over to say hello and asked him if anyone else had arrived yet.  Nope.

I got a text from PPP that they were on the property but had stopped to get a player’s card for Coach.  So I went to the podium to see if and how I could arrange for all of us to get into the same game.

The short answer was:  I couldn’t.  That is, other than all of us getting on the list, getting into a game, and then eventually getting enough table changes to all finally end up at the same table.  Hmm…didn't sound promising.  I had her put me on the list—that was a mistake.  I should have waited for the Pete and Coach to show up and had us on the list consecutively, and prayed that they would start a new game we’d all be called to.  Didn’t think of it until too late.

As I said, this was the Friday of the holiday weekend, so the place was busy.  They had a bunch of 1/2 tables going and before I knew it, they were calling me into a new game.  Meanwhile, Pete and Coach got on the list, and in short order, were each called to separate tables.  So they we were, the four of us, each sitting at a different game!  Not at all what we had planned.

I went back to the podium to see what they could do.  When I said we had four people at four different tables that all wanted to sit together—and that we expected more of our friends to show up—the lady just kind of shrugged.  She remembered that she had just sent me to a table that they had just opened and she said, “Well, they’ll never move any players from existing games into a new table.”

Ugh.  I suddenly recalled one of the things I didn’t like about playing in the Venetian.  It’s their must-move policy.  I won’t explain “most-move” games for those of not familiar with them, but you can read about them here.  My experience was that usually only the biggest games a poker room has are ever must-move.  So, at MGM, the only time you’d see it is if they had a 2/5 game going and they open a second one, the new one would be “must-move.”

So I was shocked when, one time in my limit days, I was playing 4/8 at the V and I was called to a new game.  And then one by one, they came over to take our players away and move them into one of the previous two existing 4/8 games, and then brought us a new player off the long waiting list. One by one, the fish I was playing with were moved to another table.  I was very aggravated.  This must have happened before I started the blog, because I know I was so pissed off at the whole thing that I could have easily filled a long (even by my standards) blog post ranting about it.  Remember, this was for the smallest game, stakes wise, they offer there.

Anyway, her comment about not moving players to a newly opened game reminded me of the policy.  I wasn’t actually told that my game was a must-move game. I assumed it was, and anyway, her comment about not moving us to my table convinced me that I needed to take more dramatic steps to get us all into the same game.

I was frustrated.  I knew if we were at MGM, I’d have us all sitting at the same table in minutes.  Partially this is because it is a smaller room, less tables, easier to monitor.  But the other reason is that if I went over to the shift manager and/or the person at the podium, whoever it was, they know me and would surely go the extra mile to accommodate me.  They’d be looking out for me and would make sure that we all got together as soon as possible.

But it appeared we were kind of screwed over by the size of the Venetian, the fact that it was super-busy, their rigid policies, and the fact that I didn’t really have any friends working there.

Or did I?

And I thought about it, and was caught in a bit of a moral dilemma.  You see, I do have some “stature” in the Vegas poker community.  Through my work for both PokerAtlas and Ante Up, I have contacts in every poker room in Vegas.  I deal with these folks every month to get updates on the rooms for PokerAtlas and news for Ante Up.  I'm kind of a big deal.  :)

My contact at Venetian is the tournament director, who updates me not only with tournament info but cash game updates as well.  He is a really good guy and I knew if he was around, he wouldn’t think twice about going out of his way to help me out. I bet he feels like he owes me a favor or two. Actually, when I got to the room, I went over to the tournament area to look for him, but it appeared he wasn’t in.

But, he has his own Twitter account.  What if I tweeted to him about needing a favor?  I had to decide if there was anything wrong with that.  I know I can never ask any of my contacts for anything of monetary value—comps, shows, rooms, etc.  That is strictly verboten. But all I’d be asking for here was a little accommodation so all of us could sit together—nothing of any economic value.  In fact, it would be assuring that we all stayed there and played long into the evening.

I decided it would be ok and sent out a tweet to him.  The Venetian poker room also has a twitter account and I included that on the account.  And I waited.

Meanwhile, a friend of Tony’s, Herbie, showed up to play.  But he saw that we were all at four different tables and saw how long the waitlist was and didn’t think there’s was much of a chance of us all getting together anytime soon.  He chatted with Tony and went around the room to introduce himself to Coach, Pete and me.  When he came over to meet me, he said there was a short list for an Omaha game, do I ever play that?  Um, not if I can help it. (see here).  So I thought he might try to get into the NL game, but apparently he just gave up and left.

But the old coot to my left heard this conversation, and when Herbie was gone he asked me, “Do you like to play Omaha?”  I said no, but that the guy who just left apparently does.  So the old coot said to me, “There are two kinds of people who do well at Omaha.  Rocket scientists and complete idiots.  And he didn’t look like an Astronaut.”  Ok, I had to laugh.  And boy was that old guy proud of his joke.  Anyway, Herbie, don’t take it personally, the guy had nothing to base his comment on, other than the fact that you weren’t wearing a space suit at the time.

Meanwhile, my tweet was being ignored.  I guessed (correctly as it turned out) that my contact was out of town for Labor Day weekend.  And I guess whoever handles the regular Venetian twitter account was off for the weekend too.  I considered sending out another tweet that would say, “Maybe we should head over to the Wynn poker room.  Perhaps they’ll be more accommodating.”  But no, I didn’t do that.  I also was thinking that perhaps we should all just cash out of our games and then get back on the list at the same time, figuring at least a few of us would end up at the same table that way (especially if they started a new game and it looked like they were going to be starting new games at a pretty good clip this night).  But I wasn’t ready to try that yet.

But I knew I had to do something, it was just a question of how much I wanted to throw whatever weight I have around.

I didn’t just want to go up to the shift manager and tell him I work for both PokerAtlas and Ante Up and I’d like to get all my friends at the same table.  I was afraid that it might not sound too good, and if he were to complain to my employers about being a pain in the ass too demanding, I could get in trouble.  So I decided to be subtle.

I had business cards on me from both entities.  I took one out—it happened to be the one from Ante Up (I always, always see tons of copies of Ante Up whenever I am in the Venetian poker room)—and wrote my name and table number on the back. I then went around the room and made sure I had the right table numbers for Tony, Pete and Coach and wrote their names and table numbers under mine on that business card.

The plan was to hand this card to the shift manager and explain that these four people all desired to sit at the same 1/2 table.  Could he help us out?  I wouldn't say anything about who I was, but if he happened to turn over the card to see the Ante Up logo, well then, what a coincidence!  Subtle, right?  It wasn’t like I was actually asking anything of him because of my Ante Up column, at least not directly.  Also, if he turned the card over, he might even have recognized my name from my column (or perhaps my contact at the V had mentioned my name to him, that wouldn’t have surprised me).  I figured this was the best way to go.

I saw a gentleman who looked like he might have been the shift boss in the middle of the room, standing at a very small podium, looking at some clipboards and talking to one of the floor people.  I went over to him and when he asked me what he could do for me, I went into my pitch.

I asked if he was in charge—he was—and if he was in charge of the tournaments or the cash games. He said he could help me with either.  So I handed him my card and told him that those four players all wanted to be at the same table.  Any table, didn’t matter which one.  I couldn’t help noticing as I was talking to him there was a small stack of Ante Up magazines right there next to his little podium.  I was oh so tempted to grab one, open it up to my column, hold the page up to my face and keep going back and forth, pointing to my face, and then my picture in the magazine.  But no, I didn’t do that.

He was wired into to the front podium and he told them to put all of us on the list for a table change to my table.  Ok, we were making progress.  He was even going against the stated policy of not moving players to the newest game.  The trouble was, since mine was a new table, it was likely to be the last one of the four we were at to start losing players.  But it was better than nothing.  He handed me back the business card without ever turning it over.  That is key….he was trying to accommodate us without having a clue about who I was (unless he recognized me from my Ante Up pic, highly doubtful).  We got no extra consideration than anybody else going over to him would have gotten.  My cute little trick had gone for naught.  But at least there was a possibility that at some point, one by one, the others could be sent to my table.

This is going to be a three-parter, and that's where we leave part 1.  Did the blogger's ever get together at one table?  Will I ever actually discuss any poker?  You can find part 2 here. In the meantime, you can check out the following links to read previous versions of this night. See Pete (here), grrouchie (here) and Coach (here and here).
 

Three Years of Blogging

I'm posting this on the third anniversary of this blog's debut.  Three years ago today I went live with two posts, followed by two posts the next day.  I've decided to mark the occasion with a repost of one of my earliest entries. 

The post below is actually the third one that I published.  I'm not reposting the very first post because, for some reason, it was a review of an experience I had staying at the Excalibur.  It was already a year after I had stayed there that it finally saw the light of day, and now, an additional three years later, I don't suppose it has much relevance to what the Excalibur is like today. 

My second post was my very first published report of a genuine hooker encounter (see here), but I'm not reposting that because a lot of you have probably read it.  As a hooker post, it got a lot of page views long after I published it, as I started telling other hooker stories and readers looked back for my older ones. So no point in reposting it.

The story below, however, has not gotten a lot of page views so it's likely most of you have never read it.  Recall that when I started the blog, I was almost exclusively a a 2/4 limit player, and this story below, which took place some time before I even started the blog, is about a game of 2/4 limit.  The other reason for reposting it on this day is that it is very representative of the kind of poker posts I thought I would be doing when I started the blog--fun hands, not much strategy or analysis.  I think it's fairly different from the kind of posts I do these days when I write mostly about poker.  See if you agree.  

Another difference was, back in the day, I didn't add any graphics to my posts.  I wasn't even aware of how easy it was to do that.  So my original post didn't have any pics.  To demonstrate yet another way my blog has changed over the years, I'm going to put in a totally gratuitous, random picture of a really hot woman at the end of this post, just to add some graphics.  The picture has nothing to do with the subject matter herein. But if you think I shouldn't include this particular photo with this post, you're crazier than the guy you're about to read about.  

I hope you enjoy this trip down memory lane.  The original post was entitled:

FOUR 7!'S

Some time back I was playing in a 2/4 game at the BSC.   I wasn't doing well, so when I dropped down to having less than $50 in chips (from a $100 buy in) I bought in for another forty bucks.  This is what I've always done because I've always felt it was crazy to be short stacked in a limit game (no-limit is an entirely different matter).  I've seen countless times players having to go all-in with really good hands because they didn't have enough chips to start the hand.  It's actually worked to my benefit several times--not having to call a raise that a player with a better hand than mine couldn't make because they ran out of chips.  So in five years of playing, I've never been forced to go all-in in a limit game.  I've never really come close....until this story.

A rather annoying, obnoxious player had recently joined the table, sitting directly to my left (I was sitting in the 7 seat).  He was a buddy of the talkative nice guy in seat 3 or 4.  The guy next to me will henceforth be known as "Annoying Guy" or AG for short.  He was annoying for several reasons.

First, he was extremely loud, talking to his buddy across the table in a loud, deep voice.  He was basically shouting in my ear.  The other thing was his sense of humor.  He came to the table with chips, all of which were red (ie, five dollar chips).  Not what you want to see at a 2/4 game where dollar chips rule the day.  And whenever he raised at first, which was quite frequently, he said "all-in."  This wasn't funny the first five times he said it and got totally annoying after that.  Especially since he shouted "all-in" into my ear every time he said it.  Also he tried to raise more than he could and didn't seem to grasp why he wasn't allowed to do so.  I assume he got the red chips from a no limit game he had been playing.  I couldn't be sure if he was just clueless or obnoxious or very possibly both.

He raised a lot when he first got to the table, especially pre-flop.  He didn't stick around to the river often, so I couldn't see what he was raising with but it happened enough to convince me he wasn't raising with much.  I hate players like that.  It's one thing to be an aggressive player who raises with a good starting hand, but it's quite another to raise almost every time because you'd rather be playing higher stakes or NL or you think you can intimidate the other players.

It happened that while in early position, I looked down at pocket 7's.  I called, expecting to have to call AG's raise.  I'll two bet any pocket pair at the average, loose, low limit game, which this was.  To my surprise, AG didn't raise, one of the first times since he sat down that he hadn't raised pre-flop.  The flop was 8-7-4, rainbow, giving me a set but making me wary of a straight. I was first to bet the flop, no one raised, only two called, including AG.

The turn was the case 7.  Lucky me.  I didn't pay much attention to the fact that there was now a second spade on the board.  At this point, I wanted to slow play hoping someone else would bet and I could call hoping someone would hit a straight or even less likely flush.  But no one bet.

The Ace of Hearts fell on the river....I would have preferred the Ace of Spades hoping someone hit a backdoor flush, but no such luck.  I was pretty sure no one had flopped a straight, it would have been an awful play to slow play a flopped straight.

I bet out, disappointed.  Since no one had bet the turn, I was sure neither of my opponents would call and I would take down a pretty small pot, especially disappointing with such a monster hand.  To my absolute astonishment, AG raised!  I couldn't believe my good fortune. The third player folded immediately. Back to me, I of course re-raised.  I was certain AG would now fold, having failed at his pathetic attempt at a bluff.  If I was lucky, he would call and give me an extra four bucks.

But again he raised me, with stunning alacrity.  At BSC, unlike the locals casinos, limit games allow four raises (five bets).  Without hesitation, I put out eight more bucks and said, "I'll cap it."

The dealer, an older guy who is a part-timer, said, "No, there's no cap when it's heads up." While I was wrapping my brain around this bit of good news, AG put in eight more bucks and said "raise."  Be still my heart!  I was too excited at the thought of a very small pot turning into a very big one to really analyze this at the time.  I knew the rule about their being unlimited raises when there are only two players, but I'd seen it actually come into play less than half a dozen times in all the times I've played limit poker.  And it never came into play when I was involved personally.

So I didn't spend a lot of time thinking that the dealer might have made an error, because my understanding was that the "no cap" rule only comes into play when the betting round starts with two players.  And unless my excitement at the thought of beating this jerk really, really badly had messed with memory, this betting round had started with three players, though third player didn't put any money into the pot on this round.

Instead, my mind went to the obvious...have I missed something?  Is there any possible way this jerk could beat my quads?  Before calling his raise, I paused.  I double checked the board. No other pair on the board, so he couldn't have better quads.  A straight flush?  I checked three times and there were not three cards on the board of any one suit.  Sure there was straight out there, but that's not a problem for my quads.

Convinced I was unbeatable, I raised.  He raised again.  The speed with which both of us raised caused the dealer to tell us to stop.  He counted out AG's remaining chips (he had less than I did, thanks to my rebuy) and told me how many I'd need to match them.  He then said, "I assume that's what you both want to do?"  We both said yes, in my case, I could barely contain my enthusiasm.  He had put about $65 into the pot just on the river and I matched it.  That's some action for a guy like me used to playing 2/4 Limit!  I would have been at least twenty bucks short if I hadn't done the rebuy.

What the heck did this guy have?  I couldn't see him flopping a straight and slowplaying it.  But the other possibility....that the river Ace gave him Ace's Full didn't seem likely either.  If he was dealt Ace's, I couldn't imagine him not raising preflop.  Anyway, the dealer asked us both to show our hands.

AG proudly, yes proudly, said "Two pair!"  The river Ace gave him Aces up, with the 7's on the board (he was playing Ace-6, he flopped a gutshot).  That's it. That's all he had.  He went all in with two pair, when one of the pair was on the board.  I didn't even need pocket seven's to beat him.  One 7 in my hand would have been enough.

I swear as I was about to turn my cards up, the rest of the players at the table, in unison, seemed to say aloud, "Four sevens!"  Yeah, everyone at the table knew what I had, except AG. You see, they had all been playing with me for quite awhile and knew what a tight player I was. None of them could imagine me putting all that money into the pot unless I had the absolute nuts.  (Hmmm....I probably need to work on my table image, wouldn't you say?)

AG seemed genuinely surprised, amazingly so.  He got up, said something to his buddy about meeting up with him and said to me, "Enjoy my money!"

Everyone at the table was congratulating me, not only for winning a nice big pot with a nice monster hand but also for busting AG out and getting him to leave....I wasn't the only one this guy was annoying.  They commented on the fact that I had paused at one point to make sure I had the nuts, and complimented me for the way I played the hand (but really, it was all AG's stupidity).

In hindsight, I think that AG didn't like me and was hoping to give me a beating (pokerwise).  He let that emotion rule his actions and he clearly wasn't thinking straight to think his two pair could hold up. Why didn't he like me?  Well, I never complained verbally about his obnoxiousness, but I'll bet my body language was indicating my annoyance, especially when he kept shouting in my ear.  Just speculation, though.

As I told that story the rest of my visit, one thing became clear to me.  The dealer made not one but two mistakes on my hand.  For some reason, at BSC and at most poker rooms in Vegas, when it is heads up, they don't let you go all in (in a limit game).  They insist you get there one bet and raise at a time.  We should have just kept raising each other until he ran out of chips. But that's just a cosmetic error, it had no effect on the result.

His earlier mistake did.  I asked my dealer pals and they confirmed that the rule was that "no cap when heads up" only took effect if the betting round starts heads up.  In telling the story, I indicated that I thought therefore that the dealer might have made a very nice mistake in my favor.  They say it happens, the dealer forgets that there were other players in the round at the start of it, and if no one points it out to them, so be it.   I'm sure that's what happened here. The guy gave me $65 on the river when by rights, he should have only been able to have given me twenty bucks.

Do I feel guilty about getting extra money from the guy due to a dealer's screw up?  I might if the guy wasn't an obnoxious jerk.  As it is, I've lost zero sleep over this.  Hey, the guy could have stopped raising me anytime.  In fact, he never should have raised me in the first place.  Yes, you clown, I did enjoy your money!

Mixing it Up at The Bike

This past weekend I went back to the Bike (in grandiose Bell Gardens, CA) and I had sort of a new game plan.  I was “inspired,” if you will, by poker whiz Ed Miller.  I’m on his mailing list and he sent everyone on that list a free video, “How to beat any 2/5 game.”  I downloaded the video and found it interesting.

I wondered how well I could use the concepts Miller was teaching and change and improve my game.  Of course, I don’t play 2/5.  Not sure how well it would adapt for 1/2 but…. I thought intuitively that the 2/3 game I play at the Bike probably plays similarly to a 2/5 game in Vegas.

Most of the things are stuff I should already be doing, but let’s just say, I have become too complacent in my game.  So this was a good reminder, if nothing else. 

I decided it was worth risking a buy-in or two to see if I could execute the strategy and see some results.

Miller supposedly described the way he plays 2/5.  I suspect, good as he is, this might not be the whole story.  One thing though is….Miller never limps.  He doesn’t open-limp, he doesn’t limp in behind limpers.  If he enters a pot preflop, it’s with a raise—unless he’s calling a raise. He also gave a list of suggested starting hands for the 2/5 game.  The biggest principle in this video is that players play too many hands, play too much junk, and as such, you can win pots when they miss, betting the turn and/or the river, even when you miss too. As I describe some hands, perhaps I will be better able to give you a better idea of what he’s saying.

As usual, I bought in for the max, $300.  Early on I had pocket 10’s in late position.  It was raised to $12 by the player in front of me.  Miller doesn’t recommend three-betting with anything but AA & KK (and any suited Ace for balance), at least in early position.  Note, his video was aimed at early position play, which he was defining as any position before the cut-off seat—since I was in the cut-off he might have recommended a three-bet there).  I called, as did two others.

The flop was Queen high, not much for me.  Preflop raiser bet $15, and everyone called (note, the strategy is heavily slanted toward never folding on the flop).  A blank on the turn, and the preflop raiser checked, and here’s where I should have bet.  I didn’t because there were four of us, and most of Miller’s discussion was about heads up play.  I meekly checked, and we all checked it down on the river.  I was actually thinking my 10’s were good and I was right, the only pair was the preflop raiser’s pocket 9’s. Decent pot, though no thanks to great play on my part.

Won another nice pot just based on stack sizes.  No one raised when I was the big blind with Ace-8 off. The flop was 8-high and I bet $10.  A short stack shoved and another short stack shoved behind him.  The first guy had around $45 and the next guy had $50. With no further action possible, it seemed like a pretty easy call for me.  The board blanked out, the first guy had 8/7 (not suited) and the other guy had a gut-shot that he missed.  Nice pot for a measly pair of 8’s.

Then in the small blind I had Ace-9 of clubs.  An aggro lady in middle position raised to $15 after a limper or two.  This lady was from Syria.  She was sitting next to a man from Israel.  I’m happy to report they got along well.  See, poker can bring peace to the Middle East.  Anyway, this lady had, on my very first hand, won a pot against me (when I was the big blind) when she didn’t raise with pocket Queens preflop.  But ever since then, she had raised preflop a lot, called almost every raise preflop, and limped in with every other hand.  Hardly ever folded.  I dunno why she didn’t raise with those Queens but she obviously wasn’t raising with only so-called premium hands. 

It folded to me.  I called.  All suited Aces are on Miller’s list of hands he plays preflop, even if it’s raised (but not if it’s three-bet to you).  This being the Bike, I expected the limpers and/or the big blind to join us but no, they all folded. It was heads up.  The flop hit me like a ton of bricks: 10-7-3, all clubs.  Always nice to flop the nuts.  I was sure she would bet so I checked.  She put out $50, more than the pot.  Hmm….

I wasn’t sure whether to call or check-raise.  I decided to go for the check-raise.  I put out $100, a min-raise.  She called quickly.

The turn card was another club, a low one, and I figured I wouldn’t get any more money.  I put out another $100 anyway.  She was extremely unhappy, but she called.  The river was the Queen of spades.  No board pair.  I still had the nuts.  With the size of the pot, the only bet I could make was a shove (it was $140 or so).  She had me covered—she had over $500 when I got to the table—but she just threw her cards face up in total disgust.  She had flopped a set of 7’s.  “I needed the board to pair.”  She sure did. Then she did something I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.  She reached in the muck and tried to find my cards (which I hadn’t shown). Of course, that’s totally against the rules. She turned over the Ace of clubs and another card that wasn’t mine, and a red 6 or something. “Ace-6 you had, you called me with Ace-6?”

She was honestly so upset at this point that I didn’t want to set her off any more, I didn’t think it was worth it.  If this had been a Vegas poker room, I would have complained to the dealer, and perhaps the floor, that she had illegally tried to look at my cards.  The dealer should have said something, but didn’t.  However, this being the Bike, I wasn’t even sure I would win the argument.  And in the moment, I considered the possibility that if I said anything at all about her post-hand actions, she might just pull a gun out of her purse and shoot me.

Ordinarily I would have said nothing, or the classic, “I forget.”  But the way she was looking at me, I decided to just tell her the truth—especially since she had seen the Ace of clubs (which was obviously my card, but the other one didn’t have to be).  “I had the nuts.”

“On the turn you had the nuts, not on the flop.”

I could tell she wasn’t going to believe the truth, so I told her the truth.  “I had the nuts on the flop.”

She started muttering about how I had cost her $250 (actually, it was only $215).  Then she said something interesting to the guy next to her.  “I should have bet more.”

The guy said, “He had clubs, you’re never betting him off that hand.”

“No, I should have raised more preflop, so he doesn’t call with Ace-rag.”

Oh wow, perfect timing.  You see, I had just told the story here, about the MGM regular who commented on my preflop bet-sizing.  That led to a comment from our friend Poker Grump, who left a link to an old post of his about preflop bet-sizing and the whole notion of, “How Much Do I Have to Raise” to get someone to fold garbage preflop.  The part in quotes is the title of his post, and you can (and should) find it here.  Obviously this lady hadn’t read his post!  As Grump says, that’s the wrong question to ask.

But I had read the post, and in it Grump also explained his own method for pre-flop bet-sizing.  I actually came up with a calculation myself for this 2/3 game myself based on the formula he wrote about for the 1/2 game he normally played.  I did use it, but not often, because any time I had a playable hand, it was almost always raised in front of me.

Some time later, I took out my notebook and made some notes about the hand.  The Israeli next to the Syrian woman asked me what I was writing.  Usually I say, “it’s my grocery list.”  This time I said, “I’m writing a novel.”  The Syrian lady, with steam still coming out of her ears, said, “No he’s not….he’s writing about what he had, who bet what….”  The guy was reacting to me, not her.  “Have you been published yet?”  I laughed.  The woman convinced him I was taking notes on the hand, and guy dropped it.  I wasn’t really lying….aren’t some of my posts almost novel-length?

No...I said I was writing a NOVEL, not a NAVEL!

I raised to $11 with Ace-10 of hearts, and this old guy who hadn’t played very many hands suddenly made it $40 behind me. Ordinarily this would be an easy fold for me, but perhaps misunderstanding Miller’s system, I called.  The flop missed me, I checked and he shoved his last $98.  So the idea of getting to bet the turn went out the window.  I also should have known that this guy is most likely only three-betting with Aces, Kings and maybe Ace-King.

I raised to $10 under-the-gun with 10-9 clubs and had two callers.  The flop was Jack-10-x, and no one called my $15 bet.  I wouldn’t have raised with that hand under-the-gun with watching that video (late position yes, not UTG).

Perhaps my favorite hand of the day, though not the most profitable, was when I raised to $12 with Jack-9 of diamonds (per Miller).  It was three-bet to $30 by a young Asian man who wasn’t your typical “Crazian.”  I mean, he had played a fair amount of hands. but not that aggressively.  I was sure tempted to fold, especially since I didn’t have position, but I had Ed Miller in my ear telling me to call, so I did.  It was heads up.

The flop was Ace-high, the other two cards low, not a diamond to be found.  I checked and was shocked when my opponent checked behind me.  So I knew I was going to bet the turn, no matter what it was.  Perhaps I’d be betting into his flopped set of Aces that he was slow playing?

As it happened, the turn was a Jack, giving me second pair.  I bet $50 but I swear I would have bet the same without a pair.  My opponent thought long and hard before saying, “Caught your Ace huh?  Ace-King?” and then folded his pocket Queens face up.

Holy shit.  At the risk of stereotyping, because of his ethnicity—and also because this was the Bike—it just totally amazed me that he would lay down his Queens there, and put me on an Ace. The lack of a c-bet—even with the Ace on the flop—was surprising as well.  So that was a nice win for me.

With pocket 5’s I called a raise to $12.  Heads up, the flop was King-4-2.  Called a $15 c-bet.  A three on the turn gave me a straight draw.  First to act, I checked, and he checked behind.  So I bet a blank river, $20.  He called and showed Ace-10.  Yes, he called me down with Ace-high, thinking I was bluffing. I sorta was….bluffing with the best hand.  My tendency would be to just check it down and win a showdown, but my bet got me an extra twenty bucks.

Then in the small blind I had Ace-King off.  The button raised to $12 and I called, as did two others.  The flop was Ace-high, two hearts, including the Ace.  My King was black.  I checked and called the preflop raiser’s $25 bet.  It was now heads-up.  My opponent had built up a small stack into a large one, had me covered, and had been bullying the table for the past hour.  I think between that and the fact that this was late in my session, when I was ready to call it a day, I lost my fortitude. The turn was a second spade, and I checked. That was very weak, a bad play on my part. He checked behind me. When a third heart hit the river, I checked again.  That would have been a perfect spot to bet, to represent the flush.  But again, I wimped out.  And then, he shoved!  About $500, a lot more than I had.  Wow.  I really did consider risking everything there, because I was fairly sure a shove into a pot that size is a bluff.  But…..no, I wasn’t ready to risk my entire stack on a single street of a single hand with just TPTK.  He might have caught two pair with the river card.  He might have had the flush.  I should have made a reasonable bet myself…and then have been willing to fold if he shoved over me.  But I just let it go.

I knew then it was time to quit, but during my last orbit I caught a pair of 9’s and raised to $14.  Only got one caller.  The flop was Jack-high and I took it down with a $20-flop bet.

Now, because I was calling a fair amount of preflop raises, and calling more flops with not much, I lost most of those chips I won on the big hands I described.  It was also hard to make that big turn (or river) bet Miller talks about, because so often there were multi-way pots, and he seems to be mostly talking about heads-up hands.  But overall, I wasn’t displeased with a small ($25) profit.  I was actually pretty card dead—the biggest pocket pair I had was the 10’s. I had 9’s, 5’s and 3’s (twice). I had Ace-King two or three times tops.  And I almost never limped into a pot.  I think the only time I limped (other than from the small blind) was with the pocket 3’s twice.  So I violated Miller’s “rules” those two times.  But you know what?  He doesn’t even play pocket pairs below 6’s.  So I violated the rules two ways!  But I didn’t think it was happened enough for anyone to be able to figure out what I was doing. 

I want to watch that video a few more times (and also finishing reading Miller’s new book, which goes over some of the same themes) and keep working on my game

(Note: a week later I returned to the Bike using the same strategy.  The follow-up post about that session can be found here.)