I was involved in an interesting set of circumstances recently at the Borgata where I regularly play in the 5-10 no-limit cash game. After being moved to the main game from a must-move table I found myself in the unusual position of going all-in on the river three times in the first hour. In the first two instances the flops involved two suited cards making potential flush draws. Each time a third suited card failed to hit the board, leaving me with the nuts both times. In each case I moved all-in on the river because of the remaining stack sizes of my opponents and the fact that any river call at all would have warranted an all-in call. In both cases however, my opponents mucked and my cards were not shown to the table.
In the third instance I played pocket sixes in a limp pot of five players to a flop of jack, six, deuce with two hearts. The player to my right overbet $100 into the $50pot. I decided to smooth call and trap any raiser. Instead the other three players folded. The turn was a jack and the player now bet $300.00. I was confident that he didn’t have pocket jacks since he had limped and would certainly not make a large bet with quads. It was also highly unlikely that he played jack-deuce or jack-six and so I thought that he was probably either playing a blank jack or two hearts. This being the case I decided to smooth call my full-house hoping to see a big bet if a heart hit the board. The river was a harmless seven of spades and my opponent checked. At this point I was convinced that he didn’t have a full-house. Therefore he either had a missed flush draw or a blank jack for trips. I decided to go all-in for another $2000 into the $850 pot. If he had the missed draw he would muck to any bet but if he had the blank jack he might make the call. After all, I wasn’t dealing with Negreanu or Ivey. So I pushed and he went into the tank for two full minutes after which he showed jack-queen and mucked. A young aggressive player on the other side of the table responded immediately. “Oh my God I would have insta-called that missed flush draw.” A friend on my side of the table then whispered to me ”you’ve got that guy right where you want him,” and I knew that given the right set of circumstances I could make a killing with that information.
The right set of circumstances didn’t come for almost five hours as play continued. Finally I found myself in the big blind with ace-king of clubs. I raised to $50 and the young aggressive player at the other end of the table was the only caller. I was thrilled at the flop of queen, jack, three with two clubs. It gave me the nut flush draw, a gut shot straight draw and two overcards. I continuation bet $100 and my opponent immediately raised the minimum to $200.00. After some hesitation (for effect only) I called. A dream turn card then hit, the nine of clubs giving me the nut flush. I checked to my opponent who had about $3500.00 left. He bet $300. Once again I deliberated and asked to see his chips since he was covering his stacks with his hands. Of course I already knew approximately how much he had but I was hoping this request might make him think I had a naked ace of clubs and needed to calculate the implied odds of calling. I then made the call. The river was a red eight insuring me the nuts and putting four cards to a straight on board. And this is the moment at which his earlier comment determined my course of action. Normally I would make a pot sized value bet here because good play dictates that if he didn’t have a flush he should check the river. Knowing however that I was dealing with an aggressive player who likely makes impulsive decisions I checked. To my delight, out of the corner of my eye I saw him reaching for chips. I then watched somewhat incredulously as he bet only $300 into the $1100 pot, thus opening the door for me. Either he had a flush and was making a “call me” value bet or he had no hand whatsoever and could not win without betting. Of course I did consider a third option – that he had a hand with some limited potential such as a straight, a set or two pair but the reward of value betting in those situations is far outweighed by the possibility of being trapped by a big flush or even smooth-called by small one.
In any event the time had arrived for me to raise. If he had no hand whatsoever he would not call any raise. If he had a low flush, a straight, a set or two pair he would be very unlikely to call a huge raise – except that I knew he was convinced that I was making all-in moves on missed draws. And so I raised all-in. I suppose it seemed like a bizarre play to most of the players but the unique set of circumstances leading to it made me think otherwise. My opponent took almost five minutes to decide as he first stacked and restacked his chips and then glared at me without blinking. Finally he uttered the two words that are music to the ears of anyone holding the nuts “I call.” I turned up the nut flush and he threw his cards disgustedly to the muck where they flipped up. He was playing queen, ten offsuit and hit the straight. It was a horrible call. If I had a ten he would have simply chopped the pot and if I had a flush he would have lost. Based on my earlier play he had to have decided that I was bluffing a missed draw. It was the only reason for him to make the call.
The lesson is obvious. You shouldn’t only be alert to tells from those who are in a hand. You can gather plenty of information about others at the table simply by paying attention to comments they may make about hands in which they aren’t even involved.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
LENNY
I have played poker with Lenny for at least five years and as a reader of my blog he wondered why he wasn’t included in my colorful characters blog. Lenny doesn’t play blind like Lance, he doesn’t call-muck or raise-muck like Doctor Dosh, he doesn’t read cards correctly and then call anyway when he’s beaten like Richie the Hat and he doesn’t straddle for $400 like Paul but that doesn’t mean he isn’t colorful.
He was especially “colorful” the night that he was chip leader in a thirty man tournament with a very large buy-in. Doctor Dosh had arrived late and was not in the tournament, and when Lenny was forced to leave the table in order to take an important business call, Doctor Dosh took it upon himself to play Lenny’s hands. Lenny returned to the table fifteen minutes later just as Doctor Dosh was pushing in the last of Lenny’s chips on an ill-timed bluff. Yes Lenny was quite “colorful” that night.
He was “colorful” on another night at a home game in his own house, when at about 3:30 A.M. from the button he looked down at his cards to find pocket aces. I happened to have been playing that hand and when another player made a significant raise I reraised even more significantly with pocket queens. Sitting between me and Lenny was Ariel, a player whose style of poker could best be described as maniacal. Without a thought Ariel called my reraise. It was then Lenny’s turn and since we were all deep-stacked he raised enough to drive all mortal men out of the pot. Any of the players in that home game would tell you that I was the most aggressive fearless player in that game and yet when Lenny reraised, my queens shriveled like a dead lizard in the desert. There was no doubt to anyone that he held pocket aces. We all mucked – all except for Ariel - who nonchalantly tossed his chips into the pot. When the flop came 10-5-2 rainbow Ariel calmly turned to Lenny and said “I’m all-in.” Lenny instantly called and Ariel turned up 10-2 offsuit, which held up to win the monster pot. Yes Lenny was “colorful” on that night as well.
In fact Lenny can be quite “colorful” whenever anybody sucks out on him. If he raises with A-K and some poor shnook calls with A-Q and the flop is Q-Q-A, you can be assured that Lenny will be “colorful”. And if it happens at the beginning of the session you can bet your last chip that he will be “colorful” until the final card of the final hand of the night is a distant memory. In fact there came a point when I would ask Lenny what he wanted me to do when he raised pre-flop. ”Lenny should I call or muck? I’ll do whatever you say.” I did this so that Lenny could only blame himself for any mishap and yet even then I could never be sure that he wouldn’t get “colorful”.
Lenny is an intelligent, fun guy and I will say without equivocation that he is a loveable teddy bear with a heart of gold. He’s one of the people I enjoy playing with the most because the laughs rarely stop – exceptof course when he’s “colorful”.
This is my Lenny column but I want to make a quick comment about another player in my home game: Tony would love to try bluffing but he hasn’t been able to get cards that are bad enough.
Now back to Lenny. Lenny we love you. Don't ever change!!!
He was especially “colorful” the night that he was chip leader in a thirty man tournament with a very large buy-in. Doctor Dosh had arrived late and was not in the tournament, and when Lenny was forced to leave the table in order to take an important business call, Doctor Dosh took it upon himself to play Lenny’s hands. Lenny returned to the table fifteen minutes later just as Doctor Dosh was pushing in the last of Lenny’s chips on an ill-timed bluff. Yes Lenny was quite “colorful” that night.
He was “colorful” on another night at a home game in his own house, when at about 3:30 A.M. from the button he looked down at his cards to find pocket aces. I happened to have been playing that hand and when another player made a significant raise I reraised even more significantly with pocket queens. Sitting between me and Lenny was Ariel, a player whose style of poker could best be described as maniacal. Without a thought Ariel called my reraise. It was then Lenny’s turn and since we were all deep-stacked he raised enough to drive all mortal men out of the pot. Any of the players in that home game would tell you that I was the most aggressive fearless player in that game and yet when Lenny reraised, my queens shriveled like a dead lizard in the desert. There was no doubt to anyone that he held pocket aces. We all mucked – all except for Ariel - who nonchalantly tossed his chips into the pot. When the flop came 10-5-2 rainbow Ariel calmly turned to Lenny and said “I’m all-in.” Lenny instantly called and Ariel turned up 10-2 offsuit, which held up to win the monster pot. Yes Lenny was “colorful” on that night as well.
In fact Lenny can be quite “colorful” whenever anybody sucks out on him. If he raises with A-K and some poor shnook calls with A-Q and the flop is Q-Q-A, you can be assured that Lenny will be “colorful”. And if it happens at the beginning of the session you can bet your last chip that he will be “colorful” until the final card of the final hand of the night is a distant memory. In fact there came a point when I would ask Lenny what he wanted me to do when he raised pre-flop. ”Lenny should I call or muck? I’ll do whatever you say.” I did this so that Lenny could only blame himself for any mishap and yet even then I could never be sure that he wouldn’t get “colorful”.
Lenny is an intelligent, fun guy and I will say without equivocation that he is a loveable teddy bear with a heart of gold. He’s one of the people I enjoy playing with the most because the laughs rarely stop – exceptof course when he’s “colorful”.
This is my Lenny column but I want to make a quick comment about another player in my home game: Tony would love to try bluffing but he hasn’t been able to get cards that are bad enough.
Now back to Lenny. Lenny we love you. Don't ever change!!!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Colorful Characters
Colorful characters
I was reading a book called The Tiltboys which is sort of a vanity story about a group of poker players and their Wednesday night home game. It was a difficult read for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that their hijinks didn’t translate well to retelling. More important to them than their poker game was an ongoing game of Rock, Scissors, Paper or as they called it Roshambo. While I’m sure that the game made the players feel as if they were too hip for the room, I frankly don’t see anything interesting or amusing about it, nor about the group of players, each of whom apparently fit a different stereotype. There was the lucky guy, the brain, the maniac, the fish, the complainer… all of the types you’d find in a poker room. Amazingly they had exactly one of each.
It got me to thinking about some of the people I’ve played with, many of whom were far more interesting than any of the guys in Tiltboys.
For example, some of you poker fans may remember a very unusual incident that took place during the U.S. Poker Championship on television a few years ago. At one point a player by the name of Lance asked the floor man whether a straight beat three of a kind, and he was quite serious. This taking place in a televised $10,000 entry event was one of the most bizarre things I had ever witnessed. So when my endodontist friend called to invite me to his game and told me that Lance would be one of the players nothing could keep me from that table. And I wasn’t disappointed. There’s so much to share about this night but I’ll limit it to this one story. Lance was a wine lover and at one point as the cards were in the air he was away from the table in the midst of pouring his 5th glass. I looked down at pocket queens and made a sizeable raise. Lance’s seat was to my immediate left and the dealer asked if he wanted to come back to the table to look at his cards. He simply responded “I call” as everyone behind him mucked. The flop was 8-5-2 rainbow. Lance was now reading the wine bottle as I overbet the pot hoping to take it down right there. (And I will tell you this, we are talking about serious money here). Instead of returning to the table to look at his cards, Lance simply said “I call” and continued to read the label of the wine bottle. The turn was a 10, leaving me with two choices. I could check in the hope that we check it down in the unlikely event that he had some sort of holding like 10-5, or I could try to end the hand on the turn. I have always believed that when faced with such a choice it is better to be aggressive and so I chose that course of action and moved all-in. At that point Lance said “well I guess I’d better look.” I held my breath as he returned to the table. He squeezed his cards and stared intently at them, then allowed his gaze to wander to the board. Each second passed agonizingly slowly until he finally turned his hand up showing 2-3, and conceded. One of the other players asked for a rabbit hunt and the dealer turned up a 3. If I had slow-played the turn I would have lost to two pair, 2-3. By the end of the night Lance spent ten minutes writing checks to other players as he smiled and joked. We all told him how much we looked forward to playing with him again because he was a “fun” player. That was 3 years ago and I haven’t seen him since.
Another extremely colorful character in my poker world is Doctor Dosh, an Indian doctor of internal medicine who plays some of the craziest poker I have ever seen. Among the many of Dosh’s creations is the call-muck, a move in which he would call a bet with one hand while mucking his cards in disgust with the other. Some of you may need to read this paragraph a few times for it to sink in and even then you would probably shake your head in disbelief but what I am saying is absolutely true – the second ultimate tilt – yes there was something worse which I will relate in the next paragraph – and these are things which even the Tiltboys could never hope to achieve. Doctor Dosh the chain-smoking medical man who would be talking on his cell phone at 3 A.M. prescribing medications for hospitalized patients while deciding how to play pocket 9s. He assured us that he never prescribed the wrong medication or dosage. He wasn’t as accurate in calling large raises.
Okay so what could possibly be more tiltable than the call-muck? How about the all-in muck. Now I know for a fact that the player who perfected this classic move reads my blog so I will not name him. Instead I will call him Tiny. As it happens Tiny is one of my favorite poker players of all time and I’m not just saying this because he reads my blog or because he has the biggest tell I have ever seen (he is aware of it but still can’t control it). There is so much that I love about Tiny that I don’t know where to start. And this despite the fact that last week I heard him complain to another player that we had Mug diet root beer rather than his favorite A&W diet root beer. I even dismiss the fact that two weeks earlier he whined about the Bachman’s popcorn not being as good as Herr’s popcorn. And let’s not even talk about his pizza and chicken critiques. None of that matters. I love Tiny! But alas I am on a tangent. You want to know about the all-in muck. It started innocently enough when the Visor raised pre-flop, but things deteriorated quickly when Tiny pushed all-in for a considerable amount of additional money. After everyone else folded, Visor pondered making the call, and displayed his cards to players seated next to him. For some reason this troubled Tiny, and when Visor finally made the call with pocket 9s, Tiny threw his cards into the muck conceding the hand and following up with an immediate rebuy. I do not post this story with the intent of embarrassing anyone, but rather to simply show that our group of players is far more uh..offbeat than the Tiltboys.
Another unique player that I’ve had the pleasure of battling was Richie the Hat. Richie was a young aggressive player who was without a doubt the best card reader I have ever played against. It was eerie the way he would look you in the eye and tell you exactly what two cards you were holding. That was Richie’s strength. His weakness was that despite this uncanny talent, he could not lay down hands which were worse. Time and time and time again he would make comments like “I know you have a queen high flush” (and he would be right) but then he would call with two pair. His favorite hand was 3-5 offsuit, which we nicknamed “the Richie.” When hands like that are your favorite hands, you tend to do poorly at poker. Richie the Hat is a fond memory.
Then there was Freddy Mo who actually introduced me to a home game in which as many as 50 different people played in tournaments and cash games. Sometimes a new player would try his luck in the tournament and get knocked out quickly. As he forlornly headed for the door Freddy would always call out to him “thanks for coming and grab a toaster on your way out.” Freddy was a master of the salt-in-the-wound. He also coined a few other oft-repeated phrases including “Hit to lose, America’s favorite new game show” which he would say whenever somebody who was drawing dead on the turn hit a card to seemingly improve his hand, and “I have a developer” whenever he made a foolish preflop call (which was often).
Paul was and will be another of my favorite players. I say “was and will be” because he has quit poker permanently for the fifth time this year,
Paul has a unique poker perspective. Losing $1 or $10,000 is still losing and so whenever he would find himself losing late in the evening he would straddle, sometimes for 30 times the small blind. And then if anyone dared call, he would raise another 500 times the small blind without looking at his cards. Talk about action, this man stood alone atop that mountain. He was also one of the most prolific bluffers I have ever played against. On one occasion he was seated across the table from me when he bluffed me out of a hand. He then texted the Visor who was sitting to my right saying “hahaha I bluffed him.” When the Visor turned to me and said aloud “look at this text that Paul just sent me,” it instigated the third time that Paul quit poker permanently, his logic being that it made no sense to play poker with people who can’t keep a secret.
My favorite poker moment of the year though came against Tony, arguably the tightest player I have ever played against (in fact last week in an 8 handed game where everyone else limped, he mucked his cards on the button and while discarding them an ace accidentally turned up). Tony is an extremely successful tournament player and a guy who never stops talking in an effort to gain information from his opponent. In this particular hand he raised preflop and I called with pocket 5s. He checked the flop of A-K-9, leading me to believe that he hit the flop hard. Otherwise he would surely have made a continuation bet. The turn was a 5, giving me a set on a totally rainbow board. He stared at me and in a very serious tone said “that 5 helps me.” I stared back without comment as he made a large bet. When I called his bet he reiterated “Be careful. I told you that 5 helped me.” Again I did not react. When a 7 hit the river and he checked I knew that I was a winner. As I reached for chips he desperately tried to stop me from betting. “Don’t bet,” he intoned, “the 5 is going to make me a winner,” the inference being that he had A-5 in his hand. I made a bet which couldn’t be resisted by anyone with a decent sized ace, including Tony. He called with his A-J and when I turned over my pocket 5s you could see the blood drain from his face. His embarrassment was obvious when he meekly pointed out that I had good reason not to fear the 5.
I play with a number of other characters. If they beg me to write about them then I will in the future. If they beg me not to write about them, then I’ll devote entire columns to them. In the meantime go find something else to read.
I was reading a book called The Tiltboys which is sort of a vanity story about a group of poker players and their Wednesday night home game. It was a difficult read for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that their hijinks didn’t translate well to retelling. More important to them than their poker game was an ongoing game of Rock, Scissors, Paper or as they called it Roshambo. While I’m sure that the game made the players feel as if they were too hip for the room, I frankly don’t see anything interesting or amusing about it, nor about the group of players, each of whom apparently fit a different stereotype. There was the lucky guy, the brain, the maniac, the fish, the complainer… all of the types you’d find in a poker room. Amazingly they had exactly one of each.
It got me to thinking about some of the people I’ve played with, many of whom were far more interesting than any of the guys in Tiltboys.
For example, some of you poker fans may remember a very unusual incident that took place during the U.S. Poker Championship on television a few years ago. At one point a player by the name of Lance asked the floor man whether a straight beat three of a kind, and he was quite serious. This taking place in a televised $10,000 entry event was one of the most bizarre things I had ever witnessed. So when my endodontist friend called to invite me to his game and told me that Lance would be one of the players nothing could keep me from that table. And I wasn’t disappointed. There’s so much to share about this night but I’ll limit it to this one story. Lance was a wine lover and at one point as the cards were in the air he was away from the table in the midst of pouring his 5th glass. I looked down at pocket queens and made a sizeable raise. Lance’s seat was to my immediate left and the dealer asked if he wanted to come back to the table to look at his cards. He simply responded “I call” as everyone behind him mucked. The flop was 8-5-2 rainbow. Lance was now reading the wine bottle as I overbet the pot hoping to take it down right there. (And I will tell you this, we are talking about serious money here). Instead of returning to the table to look at his cards, Lance simply said “I call” and continued to read the label of the wine bottle. The turn was a 10, leaving me with two choices. I could check in the hope that we check it down in the unlikely event that he had some sort of holding like 10-5, or I could try to end the hand on the turn. I have always believed that when faced with such a choice it is better to be aggressive and so I chose that course of action and moved all-in. At that point Lance said “well I guess I’d better look.” I held my breath as he returned to the table. He squeezed his cards and stared intently at them, then allowed his gaze to wander to the board. Each second passed agonizingly slowly until he finally turned his hand up showing 2-3, and conceded. One of the other players asked for a rabbit hunt and the dealer turned up a 3. If I had slow-played the turn I would have lost to two pair, 2-3. By the end of the night Lance spent ten minutes writing checks to other players as he smiled and joked. We all told him how much we looked forward to playing with him again because he was a “fun” player. That was 3 years ago and I haven’t seen him since.
Another extremely colorful character in my poker world is Doctor Dosh, an Indian doctor of internal medicine who plays some of the craziest poker I have ever seen. Among the many of Dosh’s creations is the call-muck, a move in which he would call a bet with one hand while mucking his cards in disgust with the other. Some of you may need to read this paragraph a few times for it to sink in and even then you would probably shake your head in disbelief but what I am saying is absolutely true – the second ultimate tilt – yes there was something worse which I will relate in the next paragraph – and these are things which even the Tiltboys could never hope to achieve. Doctor Dosh the chain-smoking medical man who would be talking on his cell phone at 3 A.M. prescribing medications for hospitalized patients while deciding how to play pocket 9s. He assured us that he never prescribed the wrong medication or dosage. He wasn’t as accurate in calling large raises.
Okay so what could possibly be more tiltable than the call-muck? How about the all-in muck. Now I know for a fact that the player who perfected this classic move reads my blog so I will not name him. Instead I will call him Tiny. As it happens Tiny is one of my favorite poker players of all time and I’m not just saying this because he reads my blog or because he has the biggest tell I have ever seen (he is aware of it but still can’t control it). There is so much that I love about Tiny that I don’t know where to start. And this despite the fact that last week I heard him complain to another player that we had Mug diet root beer rather than his favorite A&W diet root beer. I even dismiss the fact that two weeks earlier he whined about the Bachman’s popcorn not being as good as Herr’s popcorn. And let’s not even talk about his pizza and chicken critiques. None of that matters. I love Tiny! But alas I am on a tangent. You want to know about the all-in muck. It started innocently enough when the Visor raised pre-flop, but things deteriorated quickly when Tiny pushed all-in for a considerable amount of additional money. After everyone else folded, Visor pondered making the call, and displayed his cards to players seated next to him. For some reason this troubled Tiny, and when Visor finally made the call with pocket 9s, Tiny threw his cards into the muck conceding the hand and following up with an immediate rebuy. I do not post this story with the intent of embarrassing anyone, but rather to simply show that our group of players is far more uh..offbeat than the Tiltboys.
Another unique player that I’ve had the pleasure of battling was Richie the Hat. Richie was a young aggressive player who was without a doubt the best card reader I have ever played against. It was eerie the way he would look you in the eye and tell you exactly what two cards you were holding. That was Richie’s strength. His weakness was that despite this uncanny talent, he could not lay down hands which were worse. Time and time and time again he would make comments like “I know you have a queen high flush” (and he would be right) but then he would call with two pair. His favorite hand was 3-5 offsuit, which we nicknamed “the Richie.” When hands like that are your favorite hands, you tend to do poorly at poker. Richie the Hat is a fond memory.
Then there was Freddy Mo who actually introduced me to a home game in which as many as 50 different people played in tournaments and cash games. Sometimes a new player would try his luck in the tournament and get knocked out quickly. As he forlornly headed for the door Freddy would always call out to him “thanks for coming and grab a toaster on your way out.” Freddy was a master of the salt-in-the-wound. He also coined a few other oft-repeated phrases including “Hit to lose, America’s favorite new game show” which he would say whenever somebody who was drawing dead on the turn hit a card to seemingly improve his hand, and “I have a developer” whenever he made a foolish preflop call (which was often).
Paul was and will be another of my favorite players. I say “was and will be” because he has quit poker permanently for the fifth time this year,
Paul has a unique poker perspective. Losing $1 or $10,000 is still losing and so whenever he would find himself losing late in the evening he would straddle, sometimes for 30 times the small blind. And then if anyone dared call, he would raise another 500 times the small blind without looking at his cards. Talk about action, this man stood alone atop that mountain. He was also one of the most prolific bluffers I have ever played against. On one occasion he was seated across the table from me when he bluffed me out of a hand. He then texted the Visor who was sitting to my right saying “hahaha I bluffed him.” When the Visor turned to me and said aloud “look at this text that Paul just sent me,” it instigated the third time that Paul quit poker permanently, his logic being that it made no sense to play poker with people who can’t keep a secret.
My favorite poker moment of the year though came against Tony, arguably the tightest player I have ever played against (in fact last week in an 8 handed game where everyone else limped, he mucked his cards on the button and while discarding them an ace accidentally turned up). Tony is an extremely successful tournament player and a guy who never stops talking in an effort to gain information from his opponent. In this particular hand he raised preflop and I called with pocket 5s. He checked the flop of A-K-9, leading me to believe that he hit the flop hard. Otherwise he would surely have made a continuation bet. The turn was a 5, giving me a set on a totally rainbow board. He stared at me and in a very serious tone said “that 5 helps me.” I stared back without comment as he made a large bet. When I called his bet he reiterated “Be careful. I told you that 5 helped me.” Again I did not react. When a 7 hit the river and he checked I knew that I was a winner. As I reached for chips he desperately tried to stop me from betting. “Don’t bet,” he intoned, “the 5 is going to make me a winner,” the inference being that he had A-5 in his hand. I made a bet which couldn’t be resisted by anyone with a decent sized ace, including Tony. He called with his A-J and when I turned over my pocket 5s you could see the blood drain from his face. His embarrassment was obvious when he meekly pointed out that I had good reason not to fear the 5.
I play with a number of other characters. If they beg me to write about them then I will in the future. If they beg me not to write about them, then I’ll devote entire columns to them. In the meantime go find something else to read.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Atlantic City Poker Rooms
If you are going to play poker in Atlantic City you will find a great disparity among the poker rooms at the various casinos. By far the largest and most comfortable room is at the Borgata where the variety and depth of the games goes unmatched in Sin City East. That of course is the upside. The downside is that the room is filled with hundreds of regulars, grinders at every level who spend their lives inside those glittering walls seeking to pluck clean the tourist or amateur who happens to wander in. Sharks and pirhana feeding on guppies and minnows, the grinders often only play monster hands and you would be more likely to make a profit from Bernie Madoff than any of these people. The high limit room has been host to many notorious people aside from the local pros. Regulars include a former Yankees manager, a multi-gold medal winning Olympian and of course celebrity poker pros who find themselves in the metropolitan area and who wouldn’t be caught dead inside any other A.C. poker room. The fact that the room boasts the most attractive cocktail waitresses and massage therapists simply adds to the panache, as do the facts that the Borgata uses the most proficient dealers, runs the most organized tournaments, and has a bad beat jackpot that seems to defy the laws of mathematics, being hit more often than Rocky Balboa was by Apollo Creed.
But as I mentioned, this is the room in which a novice player is most likely to have to hitch a ride home. If you are such a player who won’t be deterred though and you want to play here, the time to do so is definitely on the weekend when you may have a chance of being seated with other novices. A few weeks ago I was playing in the high limit room on a Monday night. Monday nights are usually pretty quiet except when a major tournament is in progress. This was one of those quiet nights and the game was very tough for everyone when suddenly a young Asian pro looked around the table which was filled with all Borgata high limit regulars and lamented “This is no good. Everyone here is equal. The only way to win here is to get lucky,” Sharks trying to eat sharks simply is not the way to consistently make money.
So where is a player to go if he wants to face a generally weaker field? My first recommendation would be Caesars, which by virtue of the fact that it is on the boardwalk, attracts street people who wander in pulling three crumpled 20 dollar bills out of their pockets and smoothing them against the felt before handing them to the dealer for chips. Moments later, after having their bottom pair felted by a straight flush they repeat the ritual, and continue infusing crumpled dirty cash into the game until they finally stare forlornly at their empty tattered wallets and slowly stand for the agonizing trip back to the boardwalk where they will spend the rest of the day sitting on a bench and playing target for seagull droppings. The smart ones wear hats.
The Tropicana is another casino that attracts the boardwalk crowd but also boasts a bunch of grinders in its low limit games (for the most part the Borgata is the only casino that offers high limit games on a regular basis in Atlantic City). It is a seemingly larger room than Caesar’s but somewhat more claustrophobic, with very closely-placed tables. I should probably frequent the Trop because I don’t think that I’ve ever lost there (I’ve gone with my wife and friends a number of times and I always cover dinner at the Palm for all of us by playing for an hour) but it is a depressing room (actually two rooms) and the entire casino has been on a downhill slide for years now.
The Taj boasts the largest poker room along the boardwalk and also the dirtiest. Most of the poker players that I know have vowed never to set foot into that room again, although some do play in the annual U.S. Poker Championship at the Taj. Years earlier, before the Borgata was built, the Taj was the place to play, despite the annoying distraction of having a noisy conga line with minimally attractive people clad in togas. It offered the best games in a large comfortable room. Not any more though.
As for the other casinos, I have played poker in all of them and none offer much in the way of competition (so if you have been banned from Caesars for card counting or vomiting on a craps table, you can find pretty easy pickings at the Hilton, Harrahs, Bally’s (where the poker room is on the 6th floor if I remember correctly) or any of the other
rooms where a game might break out.
But as I mentioned, this is the room in which a novice player is most likely to have to hitch a ride home. If you are such a player who won’t be deterred though and you want to play here, the time to do so is definitely on the weekend when you may have a chance of being seated with other novices. A few weeks ago I was playing in the high limit room on a Monday night. Monday nights are usually pretty quiet except when a major tournament is in progress. This was one of those quiet nights and the game was very tough for everyone when suddenly a young Asian pro looked around the table which was filled with all Borgata high limit regulars and lamented “This is no good. Everyone here is equal. The only way to win here is to get lucky,” Sharks trying to eat sharks simply is not the way to consistently make money.
So where is a player to go if he wants to face a generally weaker field? My first recommendation would be Caesars, which by virtue of the fact that it is on the boardwalk, attracts street people who wander in pulling three crumpled 20 dollar bills out of their pockets and smoothing them against the felt before handing them to the dealer for chips. Moments later, after having their bottom pair felted by a straight flush they repeat the ritual, and continue infusing crumpled dirty cash into the game until they finally stare forlornly at their empty tattered wallets and slowly stand for the agonizing trip back to the boardwalk where they will spend the rest of the day sitting on a bench and playing target for seagull droppings. The smart ones wear hats.
The Tropicana is another casino that attracts the boardwalk crowd but also boasts a bunch of grinders in its low limit games (for the most part the Borgata is the only casino that offers high limit games on a regular basis in Atlantic City). It is a seemingly larger room than Caesar’s but somewhat more claustrophobic, with very closely-placed tables. I should probably frequent the Trop because I don’t think that I’ve ever lost there (I’ve gone with my wife and friends a number of times and I always cover dinner at the Palm for all of us by playing for an hour) but it is a depressing room (actually two rooms) and the entire casino has been on a downhill slide for years now.
The Taj boasts the largest poker room along the boardwalk and also the dirtiest. Most of the poker players that I know have vowed never to set foot into that room again, although some do play in the annual U.S. Poker Championship at the Taj. Years earlier, before the Borgata was built, the Taj was the place to play, despite the annoying distraction of having a noisy conga line with minimally attractive people clad in togas. It offered the best games in a large comfortable room. Not any more though.
As for the other casinos, I have played poker in all of them and none offer much in the way of competition (so if you have been banned from Caesars for card counting or vomiting on a craps table, you can find pretty easy pickings at the Hilton, Harrahs, Bally’s (where the poker room is on the 6th floor if I remember correctly) or any of the other
rooms where a game might break out.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Baaaaaaad Beeeeeeeats
I’m sorry for the delay in writing this next blog but every time I log on to the computer I end up playing poker online. I’m only here now because a bad beat reminded me that I need to stop every now and then. Of course we all have bad beat stories but since this is my blog you’ll have to listen to three of mine, one that I won and two that I lost. (I do believe that for every bad beat I win there are two that I lose). About three years ago I was playing in my regular home game which was a pretty big cash game and doing fairly well for the evening when I peeked down at my cards and lo and behold two gentlemen were peeking back at me. (I don’t really say lo and behold, nor do I call them gentlemen but this blog thing is show biz so I’m taking pokeretic license. And by the way I don’t really think that playing cards can look back at you but then again who knows). So anyway of course pocket kings is the second best starting hand and I was about to push in a sizeable raise when Al Cigar beat me to the punch. Okay, fine but there were three players behind me and I couldn’t let them see a flop so of course I re-raised, and this was met with muck, muck, mu-ALL-IN. ALL-IN? Who was this maniac? Since he was and is a friend of mine – and since he is one of the few people I play poker with who doesn’t have a nickname (someone suggested Shrek but it didn’t stick) I will call him “Nameless” although I have told the story so many times that probably people in Iowa know who he is, and sometimes other players who have memorized my tale just echo along with me when I retell it to a new player.
So anyway his ALL-IN was for a VERY considerable amount of money although I had him covered, and each of us had Al Cigar (who instantly called the all-in) well covered. This left me with a three-pronged dilemma. First, what were the odds that one of them had pocket aces, second would I be getting the right price to call if indeed either had pocket aces, and third what were the chances that Nameless would push all-in over the top of my raise with less than pocket aces.
Okay so let’s deal with part one first. Some of you are going to find this very hard to believe but the odds in a nine handed game of another player having pocket aces if you have pocket kings is only about 26 to 1.
Knowing this, I moved quickly to the second part of my dilemma, and concluded that I would be getting the right price to call if Al Cigar had pocket aces, and I would not be getting the right price if Nameless had them. (I also discounted the likelihood that both of them had pocket aces although that was certainly possible as well. In fact I was recently involved in a hand where two players had pocket aces and one had pocket kings. A king on the river spelled disaster for the other two guys. Poker is a very funny – not as in amusing - game).
This brought me to the third issue which I needed to resolve and I began by considering the range of hands with which Nameless might push a considerable amount of money into the middle of the table. Now if it were some of the other players at the table I would have insta-mucked. But Nameless was a super aggressive guy who always did a lot of bullying (not unlike myself) and he knew that I could re-raise with a somewhat marginal hand. So I became suspicious of some triple reverse psychology at work. Coupling this with my knowledge that Al Cigar would only call the all-in with QQ, KK, AK, or AA, this narrowed the possibility in my mind that Nameless actually held pocket aces. (Okay and one other thing. Whenever I really want to call a big raise, I decide that the raiser has a slightly worse hand than I do).
So I called and as Al Cigar turned up QQ I felt that sinking feeling - and not without just cause as Nameless proudly slammed his pocket rockets to the felt. I was a 4 ½ to 1 underdog and as was pretty standard in that game we all agreed to run the board twice. For those of you unfamiliar with this process, the dealer turns the entire board two times and whoever wins each run wins half the pot. This does not change the actual odds of winning but it does affect the variance. In the most unlikely circumstance I hit a king on the turn the first run and a king on the river the second run. Without saying a word, Nameless stood up and walked out the door. He was gone for about 10 minutes when my cell phone rang. I answered and it was him. “F**k you you mother f**ker!” To be honest I couldn’t help but laugh, and a few minutes later he returned to the game a lot poorer but with a great story to share some day with his grandchildren. (Actually over the years I have been the only one to tell the story while he squirms uncomfortably in his seat).
It would seem impossible that anyone could take a beat as bad or worse than that but trust me I have on at least two recent occasions. In the first instance only a few months ago in my home game an almost identical situation arose. I had pocket aces this time and by a strange coincidence Nameless was in the hand again, only this time he played the Al Cigar role. I raised, he reraised, and around it went to the Taco Man who smooth-called. At that point I had no choice but to push all-in. Nameless folded and Taco went into the tank for a long time before making a terrible call (in my hindsight opinion of course) with pocket jacks. Again we ran it twice and he hit a jack the first run and a jack the second. Clearly the laws of mathematics had ceased to exist.
But the worst is yet to come. It was another home game, this one a rather large oneas well, at the home of a poker-playing endodontist. Calling a pre-flop raise with pocket 4s I was thrilled with the flop of 7-4-2 rainbow. I bet the flop and the original raiser smooth called. The turn was a seemingly harmless 10. I made a large bet at that point and my opponent instantly pushed all-in. I was indeed worried about him having pocket 7s or pocket 10s but I made the call and was quite relieved when he turned up pocket queens. One card to go and we were running it twice. That’s the kind of insurance I like. I’m sure by now you can guess the result. Queen on the first run, queen on the second run. If it wasn’t for luck I would never lo.. oh wait, somebody else already used that line.
When you play a lot of poker you take a lot of bad beats. (Although you will also be on the winning end of a lot of bad beats I think that most players remember the hands they lost much more clearly than the hands they won). The most important thing to remember though after taking a bad beat is to retain your composure and not tilt. (Okay those of you who play regularly with me can take a moment to laugh. …. Done yet? Not yet? … Well I have to finish this blog so I can’t wait any longer). The bottom line is that you have to do your best to get your money in as a favorite and after that it is out of your hands. And believe me, when it comes to taking bad beats you are not alone. So if it is true that misery loves company, then poker is a game of true love.
On that note, I think that it’s time to return to the virtual felt. Thank you for reading this blog and If we play against each other may you tilt like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
So anyway his ALL-IN was for a VERY considerable amount of money although I had him covered, and each of us had Al Cigar (who instantly called the all-in) well covered. This left me with a three-pronged dilemma. First, what were the odds that one of them had pocket aces, second would I be getting the right price to call if indeed either had pocket aces, and third what were the chances that Nameless would push all-in over the top of my raise with less than pocket aces.
Okay so let’s deal with part one first. Some of you are going to find this very hard to believe but the odds in a nine handed game of another player having pocket aces if you have pocket kings is only about 26 to 1.
Knowing this, I moved quickly to the second part of my dilemma, and concluded that I would be getting the right price to call if Al Cigar had pocket aces, and I would not be getting the right price if Nameless had them. (I also discounted the likelihood that both of them had pocket aces although that was certainly possible as well. In fact I was recently involved in a hand where two players had pocket aces and one had pocket kings. A king on the river spelled disaster for the other two guys. Poker is a very funny – not as in amusing - game).
This brought me to the third issue which I needed to resolve and I began by considering the range of hands with which Nameless might push a considerable amount of money into the middle of the table. Now if it were some of the other players at the table I would have insta-mucked. But Nameless was a super aggressive guy who always did a lot of bullying (not unlike myself) and he knew that I could re-raise with a somewhat marginal hand. So I became suspicious of some triple reverse psychology at work. Coupling this with my knowledge that Al Cigar would only call the all-in with QQ, KK, AK, or AA, this narrowed the possibility in my mind that Nameless actually held pocket aces. (Okay and one other thing. Whenever I really want to call a big raise, I decide that the raiser has a slightly worse hand than I do).
So I called and as Al Cigar turned up QQ I felt that sinking feeling - and not without just cause as Nameless proudly slammed his pocket rockets to the felt. I was a 4 ½ to 1 underdog and as was pretty standard in that game we all agreed to run the board twice. For those of you unfamiliar with this process, the dealer turns the entire board two times and whoever wins each run wins half the pot. This does not change the actual odds of winning but it does affect the variance. In the most unlikely circumstance I hit a king on the turn the first run and a king on the river the second run. Without saying a word, Nameless stood up and walked out the door. He was gone for about 10 minutes when my cell phone rang. I answered and it was him. “F**k you you mother f**ker!” To be honest I couldn’t help but laugh, and a few minutes later he returned to the game a lot poorer but with a great story to share some day with his grandchildren. (Actually over the years I have been the only one to tell the story while he squirms uncomfortably in his seat).
It would seem impossible that anyone could take a beat as bad or worse than that but trust me I have on at least two recent occasions. In the first instance only a few months ago in my home game an almost identical situation arose. I had pocket aces this time and by a strange coincidence Nameless was in the hand again, only this time he played the Al Cigar role. I raised, he reraised, and around it went to the Taco Man who smooth-called. At that point I had no choice but to push all-in. Nameless folded and Taco went into the tank for a long time before making a terrible call (in my hindsight opinion of course) with pocket jacks. Again we ran it twice and he hit a jack the first run and a jack the second. Clearly the laws of mathematics had ceased to exist.
But the worst is yet to come. It was another home game, this one a rather large oneas well, at the home of a poker-playing endodontist. Calling a pre-flop raise with pocket 4s I was thrilled with the flop of 7-4-2 rainbow. I bet the flop and the original raiser smooth called. The turn was a seemingly harmless 10. I made a large bet at that point and my opponent instantly pushed all-in. I was indeed worried about him having pocket 7s or pocket 10s but I made the call and was quite relieved when he turned up pocket queens. One card to go and we were running it twice. That’s the kind of insurance I like. I’m sure by now you can guess the result. Queen on the first run, queen on the second run. If it wasn’t for luck I would never lo.. oh wait, somebody else already used that line.
When you play a lot of poker you take a lot of bad beats. (Although you will also be on the winning end of a lot of bad beats I think that most players remember the hands they lost much more clearly than the hands they won). The most important thing to remember though after taking a bad beat is to retain your composure and not tilt. (Okay those of you who play regularly with me can take a moment to laugh. …. Done yet? Not yet? … Well I have to finish this blog so I can’t wait any longer). The bottom line is that you have to do your best to get your money in as a favorite and after that it is out of your hands. And believe me, when it comes to taking bad beats you are not alone. So if it is true that misery loves company, then poker is a game of true love.
On that note, I think that it’s time to return to the virtual felt. Thank you for reading this blog and If we play against each other may you tilt like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
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