WPBT Satellite: The Second Coming

Typically, Sunday nights aren’t too much fun. For most of us it means only a few more hours till we head back to work for another week. However, this Sunday was a bright spot that brought a second chance WPBT event to get a seat with Bob and Otis in the $1500 WSOP Event #2.

When I got my seat, all I could utter was a silent “well, crap”. I had The Blogfather directly to my left. I don’t remember who else was at the first table, because I was moved pretty quickly. Out of the frying pan and into the fryer, my second table had The Good Doctor, DonkeyPuncher, Lefty, Rantsofayoungmind, and JoeSpeaker , all great players. Well, what the hell am I saying? I would have uttered the same “well, crap” regardless of who I sat with…after all, this was a blogger tournament.

I didn’t play very well, but I didn’t embarrass myself this time, either. I finished in 24^th which was hella better than my previous performances. Funny thing though, I lost with those goddamn Hilton Sisters…AGAIN. The Fat Guy whipped out his AK pimp hand and smacked those bitches down.

Playing against bloggers is difficult. Normally trolling the low limits as I do, thinking stays on the first level and that’s it. With these folks, your game better be at a higher than normal level if you’re gonna make a good showing because they are no punks.

Go see Pauly for a complete tourney write-up. Congratulations to ABVidale on the win!

So close to Vegas, yet so far….only four more weeks. I think they’re going to likely be the slowest four weeks since I was a little kid waiting for Christmas.

I’m still EXTREMELY busy, so there’s not so much time for Thinking Big. Other than the tourney last night, I haven’t played any poker for the last week, which sucks. I plan on getting some intense sessions in before we head for Vegas, but for the next couple weeks they’re going to be few and far between. Meh.

Cock!

I spent this last weekend watching the original BBC The Office, and boy oh boy was it better than its newest incarnation on NBC. I still tried to watch the NBC version last night in the hopes that I would still like it since it was “different”. No dice. The original is so far superior it’s difficult to put into words. It’s funnier, darker, and inevitably smarter than the current incarnation. I think I know why this version is so lame by comparison; it’s obvious that the writers on our US version have to censor themselves, whereas in the British version they didn’t (or, if/when they did, it wasn’t obvious). .

Stupid uptight network TV. Last night they did say ‘cock’ though, so it’s a step in the right direction, if only the smallest of baby steps. After all, if network TV got its panties out of its ass, what would happen to the children? Won’t someone please think of the children!

I know, I know. Why don’t I just stop watching NBC? Because NBC to me is like Bill Lambeer or Christian Laettner. I loved hating those guys, and I love hating NBC. Besides, since I’m spending all of my time working or studying at the moment (sprinkled liberally with blog posting and reading), bagging on them is something fun I can think about while slogging through the aforementioned drudgery.

Want more inane and wild theories? I’ve got’em. My newest hypothesis is that the McDonalds and Pizza Hut marketing heads must be related. I think the McD’s sibling must be the better of the two, because I can actually recall one or two McD’s commercials over my short lifetime that didn’t make me want to hurl. I cannot for the life of me EVER remember a Pizza Hut commercial that didn’t cause another small part of my soul to shrivel up and die. Here’s how I imagine the scene at a deep-thinking Pizza Hut marketing strategery meeting:

Hey Jim, we have this great new Pizza! Instead of being round, this one is..wait for it…SQUARE! AAAND, along with the sauce that’s on the pizza, we give people MORE sauce to dip it in! Is that genius or what?

Great job, Dick! How many toppings can they have?

Well Jim, Pizza Hut wants to be generous to their customers, so we’re giving them one topping, and get this…it will cover the WHOLE PIZZA.

Amazing, Dick, simply amazing. Where do you guys come up with this stuff?

Well, Jim, it’s a lot of hard work coupled with an undying commitment to giving the best value to our customers.

[nods of agreement and serious contemplation of a solemn duty move through the room]

So Ted, how are we going to market this?

Are you ready, Jim? Instead of our usual masterful promotion, we’re going with a two pronged marketing blitzkrieg. We’ll have a current star on the commercial, PLUS we’ll have a celebrity do the voice over!

Boy howdy, Ted! That’s fantastic! But who ever will we get?

We were thinking we’d get Jessica and Ashlee Simpson for the commercial, and have Queen Latifah do the voice over, Jim.

[murmurs and nod’s of assent. Ashlee Simpson, so hot right now. Ashlee Simpson.]

Why Queen Latifah, Ted?

Oh Jim, that should be obvious, but I guess that’s why I’m the marketing go to guy! [insert hearty corporate belly laugh here from all involved] We want Queen Latifah because she was in that movie Chicago, so white people know who she is now and like her. PLUS, she’s still got hip hop credentials from back in the day, so black people still like her as well.

Boy, you guys are really on the ball, Ted. Say, isn’t Queen Latifah in that new movie, ooh you know, the one with the taxi and that funny guy? I just think she’s great.

[more assenting nods and murmurs. Latifah, so hot right now. Latifah]

But, hey Ted? Won’t these people want to get paid a lot of money?

Well sure, Jim. But the cost we pass on to our customers will be negligible.

Any idea how much?

Well Jim, we plan on running a special. Get this. One medium one-topping (remember, it covers the WHOLE pizza) for $1014.99. But it doesn’t end there. You can buy an unlimited number of extra small size pizzas for only $249.99 each! (Terms and Conditions apply. See participating store for details.)

Nothing short of amazing, Ted. We are the Microsoft of Pizza. Hey I think I’ll pitch that to the board at the next country club meeting, they’ll really get a kick out of that….

[more nods and murmurs of assent]

{END SCENE)

That’s all I have for today. Meh, back to studying.

I'm Rick James, bitch!

After reading the flipchipro account of the WPT Championship final table, my action is clear. I must go to Vegas and study under Tuan Le, holder of the nth degree black belt in sucking out. I’m in no way implying the guy is a shitty player. To make it to the final table in one of these events is a feat unto itself, but this Championship news coupled with his recently aired win on television confirms that he has indeed communed with the Suckout Deities.

So when you’re down to the last of your chips and contemplating a “fuckit” all-in w/ that 8-3 off in EP, just put this in your memory banks as another shining example of being down but never truly out.

It’s like déjà vu all over again, get your tickets now:

WPBT WSOP Satellite Tournament
Poker Stars
May 1st, 7pm EST
$30 + 3 No-limit
One WSOP seat awarded for every 50 players

Here’s to hoping that I can join Bob in the WSOP fracas. Yeah, maybe I’ll enjoy going into work today, too. Prolly not gonna happen, but ya just never know.

I’ve lately found myself pondering many things about the upcoming WPBT event. We’re coming in the afternoon of the 2^nd and flying out on the 6^th, which effectively means that I have about 2.5 days to destroy myself. 60 Hours give or take. How will I stay awake the whole time? OK, I can’t, so I need to devise a strategy. Should I try to sleep in small shifts, or enlist some pharmaceutical help? For those of you who are more frequently degenerate, any suggestions and strategies are quite welcome (and I say “frequently degenerate” in the best possible sense, so please take no offense). Whatever strategy I devise, I fully expect it to crumble once Mrs. Head and I get caught up in the whirlwind.

What else am I pondering? Well, lots of stuff, but the thing that is in the forefront (and won’t leave) for the moment is this; IF I win a seat to the event, and IF I can muddle my way to a final table, and IF I can knock someone out on said televised final table…

And I hollered, “I’m Rick James, bitch!”, would Dave Chappelle try to sue me?

As you can see, I have been doing entirely too much TV watching and poker dreaming. Dreaming Big, but my head is still Much Bigger. Just look for the guy with the childish Bobby's World avatar who is misplaying his Hilton's, see you at the tourney!

Huge Junk = Huge Win

The tourney last night was great! All 15 minutes of it. Goddamn Hilton sisters. I felt better that Pauly and Maudie went out around the same time I did, but couldn’t shake the tainted feeling that exiting because of poor play inevitably leaves. So, while I watched the bloggers that were still alive, I entered in the $10+1 MTT, and proceeded to bust about 75 places short of the money. To say my play is less than stellar right now would be a gross understatement.

Bob bested the entire field to take the seat wielding his twice confirmed huge stack. He also just turned 29, so if you haven’t yet, stop by his site to congratulate him on his momentous week. I wonder if ESPN will air a bunch of drunks chanting “huge junk” when Bob goes all-in at the final table.

Perspective Tidbits

Yesterday was a good day for gaining a bit of perspective. Whether it was one of the poker deities sending signs, God himself, or simply the all too human need to see patterns or signs where they don’t necessarily exist, I got a bit of the perspective I try to always look for. I just hope I can make it last more than a week.

The last 2-3 weeks have been a combination of the cards not running so hot combined with some admittedly sub-optimal (see: Idiotic) play. Last night is a good example. I jumped into a $10 + 1 PL tourney on Stars, just the type of tourney I normally excel in. Good hands were few and far between, but I was hanging tough, and with blinds at 150/300 I made a completely rotten bluff. I didn’t even have a longshot draw when I did it…dumb,dumb,dumb. So there’s my brief example of poor cards + poor play. More details would likely send you running away screaming from these pages.

The flash of perspective came while watching the final table of the US Poker Championships on ESPN before I headed off to work. John D’Agostino had his nearest competitor at the table outchipped over 4 to 1 and was well on his way to cruising into the win for over 700K. I won’t go into too many details and ruin the show for those who Tivo’d it or anything, but aside from one questionably played hand, D’Agostino proceeded to get drawn and quartered on every single good holding. Insult piling up on injury, culminating with Hoyt Corkins going for a blind steal (all-in with 87o), D’Agostino calling with pocket 10’s, and Corkins getting quad 7’s. D’Agostino lost it (but regained composure with admirable speed), and went home with 50K or so. A decent amount of money, to be sure, but when you have a seeming lock on the top 3 for a six figure payday, that pill must be VERY bitter.

Perspective? It happens online, and it also happens live, time and time again. I am not special. I am the all-singing all-dancing crap of the poker world (yes, that was a blatant Fight Club reference).

I also overheard a guy yesterday telling someone that he was facing eviction if the student financial aid bureaucracy didn’t quit dragging their asses, he was basically living off of a good portion of that money. The guy wasn’t some kid, he was mid-40’s, at least. Now, I’m reasonably sure that several poor choices along the way contributed to him being in this spot in the first place, but nonetheless it snapped on the bulb illuminating the good fortune I do have.

Perspective? Granted, I’ve put in a lot of work, but I’m still very fortunate to be in a position to sit around and play poker like a struggling donk, whine about running bad, brag about running and playing well, etc. There’s a lot of folks out there that have things much worse.

Well, it’s that, or the entire thing is rigged to the tits and I’m seeing lessons and patterns where none exist. Again.

Long and Completely Fantastical

Not sure how creative this will be, but what the hell (and please pardon any grammatical errors)…

Like anything momentous in a person’s life, there is always that one hurdle that had to be surmounted before gathering ones self and pushing towards the top. My hurdle was the WPBT blogger event for the $1500 NLHE seat. Winning a tournament is difficult in the best of circumstances, but luck was on my side, and coupled with some major patience, I made it through.

I am unfadeable. (Check your hip hop lingo dictionary if this term is unfamiliar)

As we arrive at the Golden Nugget, the history of old Vegas begins to do a slow creep into my bones. It speaks to me in that primitive way that cannot be heard, it can only be felt. For the first time in quite a while, I am the Chosen One. I only have a few hours before I have to sit in the first major tournament I have ever played in, and there are a couple of things that must be done beforehand…..

I must find Iggy and AlCantHang.

The desire to find all of the other bloggers coming to Vegas is there, but the time to do it is not, so I have to prioritize. Before leaving for Vegas I was sure to make all of the appropriate burnt offerings to the various poker deities, but if I don’t complete these last two things, there’s no telling how it could affect my fortune. (For the record, the poker gods consider throwing several fish on the grill appropriate) I needed to be blessed by a couple of the degenerate saints that inhabit this community. Showing up without my blessings would be akin to…well…showing up to a WSOP event with no pants. What blessings, though?

I need to shake Iggy’s hand and say ‘Thanks’ for setting the whole thing up. I also want to give Otis my thanks as well since I know he had some kind of hand in the thing. Perhaps they will be together and I can kill two birds with one stone, ensuring rock solid karma. Shit, I have no idea where Iggy is at………but Al probably does.

Time to head over and search all of the bars at the Plaza. This is where I will likely find him and accomplish my first task: Drink a double shot of SoCo with the master. I’m not such a big fan of SoCo, but after reading the stories, I know that it has carried Al through many days, both good and bad. If it can carry him, it can carry me.

I should have known. I don’t need to find Iggy or Otis, they are right there at the bar with everyone else, where Al is holding court and putting giant dents in the Las Vegas liquor supply. In one swift shot, literally and figuratively, my tasks are accomplished and I get to quickly meet all of these great folks before I have to head over to the event. To my surprise, everyone is coming to the start of the event, and the weight of representing the community well gets a bit more noticeable. The SoCo is kicking in though, reinforcing the fact that….

I am unfadeable.

The community arrives. Someone from ESPN comes up and asks something inane about the arriving ‘blogger crew’ they have heard about. I quickly admonish the person, clarifying the small but important fact that this is a contingent and not a ‘crew’. After all, any loose associations to “The Crew” are unwanted and unnecessary. This group will win your money, not swindle you out of it. So admonished, the crew member skulks back to the hole from whence he came. .

The play begins, and the most surprising thing about it is that very few people are playing much better than a drunken monkey at a $5 Party Poker table. Like chaff being separated from the wheat, the monkeys are separated out and we are in the money within a record breaking short period of time, and play for the day ends, finding me with a healthy stack.

After weathering a long night overflowing with amounts of nervous energy and very little sleep, it’s time to play the second day. Pocket Kings get cracked in the early going, and I spend the rest of this day fighting with the “Fuck it” guy in my head and stay patient. I manage to double a couple of times in the face of withering aggression, and end the day with a spot at the final table. My stack is short by comparison, and no one, least of all me, can quite believe it. TV crews seek bloggers for interviewing; Iggy gets outed when he is ambushed by a UPN TV crew. No one can figure out what the hell UPN is doing there, but then someone realizes that no one watches that channel anyway, so it’s not like he really got outed. All is well. As far as the rest of the world knows, Iggy is still a dwarf.

It’s final table time. I really want to crap my pants, but I can’t, seeing as how I travel commando, and all. Al tries an infusion of SoCo, but this time it doesn’t help. I have a short stack at the final table in a big event, and nothing will cure the nervous shakes. Then, like rays from heaven, I look into the beaming and serene face of one Mr. McGrupp.

“Looks like you need a bit of help from Mr. Leary”, he says, as he passes me a note only slightly larger than the edge spots of the chips I will be handling in a few minutes time.

As I take my seat, the unwritten words of the note begin a full frontal assault on my senses, and suddenly, I know everything I need to. As my everyday consciousness recedes, I find myself correctly translating words and actions which were previously hidden. Losing time causes all play at the final table to be a blur, except for snippets of called all-in bets with me serenely walking over to the rail to receive a fortifying double SoCo from Al as the flop, turn, and river are dealt. Coming out the other side, I find myself heads up with…….. The Hammer.

I raise big, but I get reraised a middling amount. The wisdom of the tiny note imparts to me the knowledge that I already posses; my opponent is holding Aces or Kings. There is quite a bit of money between first and second, but the second place is still nothing to sneeze at. Boy that bracelet sure is nice. I know I can outplay this guy and win, but I feel the weight of the community. They would want to see the hammer, so I push.

And lose.

I didn’t really expect to beat that pair of Kings. After all, it is the worst hand in poker, but that doesn’t mean that my read was incorrect. In showing the courage to pick up that Hammer and wield it with strength, only the minimum attention is paid to the winner. People want to know about bloggers and The Hammer, Vegas is fairly buzzing at this rare display. Party Poker begins discussions over getting rid of the High-Hand Jackpot and instituting a Hammer Jackpot. Al picks up an endorsement from Southern Comfort due to the shots he handed me on the rail. His new moniker is “The SoCo Sidekick”, and the company will be sending him on drunken world tour to promote their product. No one really knows where Mr. McGrupp went off to. Most likely he’s wandering a twilight desert discussing Nietzsche with someone’s ghost and writing fantastic accounts of the events he is supposed to be covering.

Me? I’m still unfadeable, and will be for the foreseeable future.

(Good idea BadBlood, that was fun)

Min Bet Monkey Swarm

Boy, it’s been a while since I’ve been this happy about it being Tuesday. Yesterday was farkin awful, which makes me kind of happy since it makes it even more unlikely that the rest of the week could be worse. Then again, you never know…

You know it’s time to give up on (insert day of the week here) when the best thing on TV is Steven Seagal. Granted, it was Marked for Death which was the coolest movie ever when I was 14, but that was nearly 15 years ago; not so much anymore.

What to do? Fire up the gambling machines. Mrs. Head is still plugging away at the $5 SnG’s and her game is making quite a few leaps, even if her starter bankroll is not. She’s taken some vicious beats over the last month, culminating in her first ‘my opponent hit his one outer’ beat. It was brutal, but to her credit she keeps her head about her a lot better than I do in similar situations, taking a 3^rd place finish last night. I fired up a $1/2 table and a $5 SnG and ended up taking a 2^nd place along with ending up about 5BB at the Limit table, which was pretty rocky, but what the hell I wasn’t there for very long.

OK, enough with the long windedness concerning trivial things. While the Mrs. and I are playing and discussing the bad, horrible, atrocious, appalling, etc. play on the $5 level, both of us tried to come up with an explanation for the latest epidemic on the low limit SnG’s. This is something that has always been around to some extent, but it seems to have gotten much worse as of late.

Example: Early stages (10/20) and someone raises to t100, which 4 other nits call, of course. The pot is t500 or so, monkey min bets, is raised to t220 and calls. Turn comes and the monkey min bets again, gets raised and calls. River comes….oh, another min bet from the monkey! Of course, another raise comes and monkey calls to show bottom pair and lose.

It gets even more amusing when other players try to bluff the min bet monkey, and they do try frequently. Don’t think I’m complaining, these players are absolute gold, but what’s the deal? I am seriously curious how this technique is being perpetuated as good practice. Regardless of who is teaching that this is good NL technique, and regardless of the conditions causing the increase in it’s acceptance, it’s getting pretty bad (or I should say good). In the last three tiny buy-in SnG’s I’ve played, four or five of the nine players were min bet monkeys.

Human Head Tip of the Day: If you want to relax with some poker and make a bit of money while not having to invest more than peanuts, take some time and frustration out on the recent swarm of min bet monkeys. It’s good fun, very relaxing, and doesn’t do damage to the roll.

Seriously, mini-Blood could run over most of these. Well, maybe that’s not a good example. Judging from the stories, he’d likely wipe the floor with me, as well.

More Cube Chronicles

I am Nick Burns.

I wasn’t always like this.

When I came into my job, I was really pumped. Sure, I have to deal with some users every now and again, but how bad can that be? I’ll just educate them, help them out, and all will be well as time goes by. Then I can devote my time to system improvements and other problems that are worth fixing, right? I’ll be nice, gently guiding my users down the path to personal tech enlightenment, and together we will achieve workplace nirvana.

Oops.

I’ve known it all along, but today it finally dawned on me with weird sort of finality. Users are frikkin’ incurable idiots. What makes it really bad is that they are idiots who care very little about their idiocy, and even less about trying to gain enough knowledge to propel them up from ‘complete vegetable’ to ‘mildly functional retard’ user status.

Sure, no one knows everything about everything, least of all me. But damn, is learning how to not hit ‘Reply to All’ on an email really that difficult? How about dragging and dropping? Sometimes I wonder, do these same people end up frozen in their driveways on random mornings straining with effort and whining at the huge intellectual leaps required of them to start their car?

I used to think Nick Burns was just a pompous uber-techie, but I was wrong. He is simply resigned to his fate until he can get promoted further down the techie rabbit hole, that wonderful place where there are no users. Being nice is simply too much wasted effort, and now I am him and he is me.

Moooove!

(If you are reading this, no matter how dumb you think you are, you are not one of the folks I speak of. You can find and read a blog. If I said the word “blog” around any of these, they would likely think I was swearing at them in Klingon or talking about a strange foreign food. Thanks for reading about my frustration.)

Fantasies

First, to help perpetuate the big news:

Sunday, April 24
Poker Stars
7pm EST
$30 +$3
No Limit
WPBT WSOP Satellite

Big thanks to Iggy and everyone else who had a hand in this idea and getting it set up, it going to be…..(searching through list of appropriate words)…..BAD. ASS.

So just for shits and giggles, I decided to seek out some definitions, particularly for the word “fantasy”.

fan·ta·sy (făn'tə-sē, -zē)
n., pl. -sies

---An unrealistic or improbable supposition.

Is it unrealistic that I expect to win this tourney and the WSOP event? Yup.

Is it improbable that I will accomplish the above? Most definitely.

It’s official, I’m fantasizing.

Will I still play and enjoy sending another blogger just as much? Damn straight.

See you all there next Sunday!

Foxwoods Wichita?

I find myself unable to really think this morning, so I won’t try to fool you into thinking that you’ll find anything witty or poignant on this page. The work/school grind over the last 2 years is really starting to take its toll at this household. A pervasive feeling of sick and tired is hanging over pretty much everything at the moment.

Hangin’ tough, though. Vegas is only 48 days away. Dammit, I just had to say “hangin’ tough”, now I’m gonna have that that effin’ New Kids song stuck in my head all morning…..

From the “shake your head in disbelief” department:

April 14 - Supporters of a destination casino in Park City [a suburb of Wichita] have found financial backing. Thursday, they unveil plans for the $270 million facility.

The Mashantucket Pequot Tribe is putting up the money to build the casino. The tribe owns the Foxwoods Casino in Connecticut, one of the world's largest.

The 1.2 million square foot compound will include a casino, hotel, restaurants and eventually even a water park.

The land has been purchased, the plans are in place, and there's money to build it. But the governor hasn't decided whether or not to give it her approval.

Governor Sebelius says she'll only give the project a greenlight if there's support from the region.

Mayor Mayans and other city leaders want to put a casino in downtown Wichita, not Park City. But former Wichita mayor Bob Knight, who's spearheading the effort for Park City is hoping the governor will change her mind. He says a Sedgwick County Casino could be the answer to the education funding problem.

(Source)

“Shaking my head in disbelief” at the fact that we might actually get a casino, and a pretty good one, at that.

“Shaking my head in disbelief” at the fact that the mayor and governor seem to be doing everything in their power to fuck the whole thing up. The mayor says he’d rather see a casino downtown and there are groups interested. Who? Harrah’s? Great. They’re going to hem and haw and be complete jackasses until everyone pulls their development plans, when they should be rolling out the red carpet, frikkin’ wonderful.

The Mrs. and I are only going to be here for another couple of years, maybe less, so I’ll likely never see the casino even if it does get built. Nevertheless, the douchebaggery of city and state leaders never ceases to amaze.

Adventures in Bubbling

Finally, I was actually home on a Wednesday to watch the WPT. Not a bad episode, but not a great one either (damn voice-over commercials), although it was pretty entertaining witnessing the drawing power of Tuan Le and Humberto Brenes antics. I felt kind of bad for the other guy…well not all that bad; his payday was none too shabby.

While I watched, I had it in mind to play a bit of poker. I didn’t really feel like spending any money because I wanted to pay more attention to the TV than poker, so I registered for the WSOP 400 FPP qualifier that sent 9 people to the round 2 on Sunday. 3 ½ hours later, I bubbled out in 10^th. Yeah, that sucked, but honestly I shouldn’t have even made it that far. I started out well, but two separate 5 to 1 shots sucked out on me before the first break, and from then on it was scratch and claw poker the whole way. Every time my stack would work it’s way to ‘almost respectable’ the blinds would shoot up again and I would be short, which forced me into making moves I wouldn’t normally be making. Even though my cards were crap in comparison to the cards I was up against, the poker gods saw fit to reward me with some seriously long shot suckouts, but only enough to keep me afloat. Example, my A8s vs. A9o. My shortness forced me to push, and I sucked out a straight. In my defense, I felt terrible at the beats I was handing out, and I knew I was living on borrowed time, but with my pitiful stack I had to gamboool in many spots, so I don’t feel too bad in general about how I played.

I’ll get there sooner or later, I’m sure of it. Although, 19 months into my poker playing life, it’s looking like it may be later.

In further nonsensical news, it seems I have been found out. Looks like he’s about to bubble as well, but he’s hanging on for at least one more week.

Here is what I’ll be thinking about today as I wander off for work: Is there a high ranking poker god of Vietnamese descent? After watching Tuan Le last night, and watching Toto Leonidas (wait a minute, I don't think he's Vietnamese...oh well he's a drawing master so worth mentioning as well) in the US Poker Championships these last few weeks (add to that last years USPC), I think they have some kind of special link to some sort of Vietnamese drawing god. Or, is it just the fact that there are quite a few great players that are Vietnamese and we just happen to see one or the other on a good day at the final table on TV?

One thing is for sure, if I ever happened to be at a table with Toto or any of the others, here’s how things would go:

1) Soil myself

2) Excuse myself and go clean up

3) Go to confession + make small sacrifice to any and all poker gods

4) Return to table and hang on for dear life

Have a great day, and may you all avoid all bubbles.

Herpes and Wine

“I have genital herpes, but I’m not going to let that stop me”
--Some dude from a new herpes commercial

Stop you from what? Baking a cake? Hiking or bike riding? Banging that genital herpes chick from the other commercial?

These are the questions I couldn’t help but ask after Mrs. Head and I finished a nice bottle of Qupé 1999 Syrah. I have to say, I like the way good wine makes me think.

“I am NOT drinking merlot!”

Yeah, I finally saw Sideways this weekend. Paul Giamatti totally got gypped on awards, he was awesome.

Iggy commented that the orginal (British) The Office was great, so having never seen it and being a fan of the US redux, maybe someone can point me in the direction of an easy (and perhaps free) way to get a couple of episodes to check out?

Darice had the idea of doing a private blogger table on Party on a semi-regular basis. Stop over and offer any other suggestions if any come to mind. Hell, if it was at a set time, I could actually schedule time out to be there and at least railbird, and only once or twice a month would take away any –EV worries of sitting down at such a table to show off my ‘mad cash game skillz’.

Lastly, but certainly not leastly (<--yes that was intentional), be sure to keep Felicia in your thoughts, as tomorrow is the day she goes under the knife.

I’m trying Think Big about poker, but alas, I must continue to devote my few big thoughts to the drudgery of schoolwork. At least my head is consistently Much Bigger.

(trudges off to be immersed in ‘higher’ learning)

Here she coooomes....

I wonder sometimes where in the heck I’d be if it wasn’t for other bloggers. Joanne illuminated the reason why canucks have to answer questions for sweepstakes winnings. Felicia suggested a few books to read that I imagine I should have read some time ago. I ordered The Psychology of Poker and Killer Poker, and after reading about them, I think they are going to help a ton with what are the biggest problems with my game at this point, the psychological/emotional aspect. Many Thanks!

I only played in one SnG last night, took 2^nd, and that’s that. There is precious little time for poker at the moment, but I’m still trying to get some in at least every other day so that by the time the June WBPT Event rolls around I still remember that a flush beats a straight.

Of course in the grand tradition of talking about useless things, today is as good as any other to talk about Miss USA. You truly know that there is nothing but crap on TV when Miss USA is the best thing going. After another disappointing episode of Poker Superstars Invitational we turned to the pageant, which was our last, but only, choice of things to watch while doing schoolwork. I decided at that point to spend the next hour emulating The Donald:

“This is the classiest pageant in the history of the world, with most beautiful women in the solar system. It has the most gold, the most celebrities and easily has the classiest and highest television ratings in every country on earth. You know, I was on the phone just yesterday with the King of Dubai, and he was telling me just how much he loves this classy operation, how much his people love me and the pageant, and how he should probably give me some money because of the general classiness I exude. It’s really just incredible and it’s the first time this pageant has been done in such a classy manner….(etc. etc.)”

Needless to say, at this point Mrs. Head was doing her best to try and tune me out, but hey, the dog’s were interested in my Trump diatribe, so it wasn’t a total loss. Then there’s my nemesis, Billy Bush, who is like a worse version of Ryan Seacrest, if that’s possible. I’m not sure why, maybe it’s because he’s short or something, but he annoys me to no end. To be sure, the entire cast of Entertainment Tonight, E!, TV Guide Channel ‘correspondents’ have the same effect on me, but Billy seemed to stand out last night. Every time I happen upon one of those shows or channels, I wonder what it would be like if my job was to talk about commercials advertising other commercials, which pretty much sums up what they do. Yeesh.

Then there is the issue of celebrity judges. Perhaps I simply don’t understand since I’m not a celebrity (other than in my own head), but is great knowledge suddenly bestowed upon you once you are officially declared a celebrity? Sugar Ray Leonard judging a beauty pageant? I’d gladly take any advice or judgment he may feel like handing down when it comes to boxing, but if I was a beauty pageant contestant I would be annoyed. Perhaps this is why I’m not a contestant. Well, that, and the fact I’m not a beautiful woman. Oh yeah, the swimmer gold medalist guy? Why? Isn’t he still like 16 or something? He can’t judge correctly whether or not he should drink and drive, but can judge an important pageant? Go figure.

Miss North Carolina was the winner (our second choice), although Mrs. Head and I agreed that Miss New York should have won. Now I can rest easy though, we have a new Miss USA, and if you believe The Donald…”she’s the classiest and highest rated Miss USA in the history of time.”

Thankfully, today is Tuesday, so I can look forward to Scrubs, The Office, and The Shield buoying my TV watching spirits. Have a great day, everyone!

Idiocy is still King

I’m a pretty rock-like tournament player, this is no big secret. It works well for the most part due to the silliness of many online tourney players, especially the ultra-low buyin crapshoots I tend to play in once a week or so. Just wait for a premium hand or a big blind special and then punish the loose folks who will call anything or want to try and run a WPT style bluff on you with their 92 off.

The thing I can’t seem to wrap my noodle around is why patience and good sense seem to leave me once the final stages of a tourney can be seen in the distance. In the early and middle stages of a tourney, it’s not a problem to be what the Doritos commercials have referred to in the past as “bold AND daring”. However, once we reach the later stages, I’ve been turning into an impatient idiot, a scared little bitch, or both.

Last night was a perfect example, yet again. $3 Sunday Crapshoot on Stars, 1850 entrants. We’re down to 105 and I’m approximately middle of the pack. Per usual, I get sat down at the table with all of the giant stacks in the tourney and am simply biding time. I get AKo in mid position and the player in front of me (super tight) with about half my stack makes it 8000 to go (1K/2/K/100). After considering my options, I folded. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I had position and chips, but folded like a punk because I didn’t want to get involved in a coin flip.

Compounding this error, I get AQo the very next hand and limp. SB min-raises, BB and I call. It’s worth noting here that the BB had been playing pretty wild the whole time I was at the table and catching some extremely lucky cards with marginal or crap hands. Flop J 8 9, 2 clubs. BB bets out 8000 into the 12000 pot, and I push on the (insane) logic the I have a straight draw and 2 overs, plus I thought he was just trying to buy the pot. Insta-called, he flips over the J9 for flopped two pair and I’m sent packing, deservedly so for such an idiot play. I knew when I did it that it was the wrong thing to do, yet my hand on the laptop seemed to be acting independently of my brain. Maybe that spliff from earlier had something to do with it.

If anyone has any advice or techniques they use in the later stages to keep themselves from egregiously fucking up and feels like sharing, it would be most appreciated, but not wholly necessary. I really just needed to write this in order to publicly berate myself so hopefully I’ll learn from mistakes that are in the 'completely obvious' department. The later the tournament stage, the less I seem to be valuing my good holdings just because of the blind size, and that REALLY needs to stop. It’s also one of those things that just comes with practice. Due to my style of play, I often come into the latter tourney stages with a short stack, and have no problems playing. The problems come when I have a decent or large stack, which seems counterintuitive, but it’s true, nonetheless.

Must. Stop. Fucking. Up.

Canadian Math Skills

You’re probably wondering what’s the deal with today’s post title. Last night when I arrived home, Mrs. Head was on the tail end of entering some kind of spa sweepstakes from Sephora, and was browsing the rules. Incidentally she came across the following:

“The winners will be notified by phone, e-mail or U.S.

mail by June 8, 2005. If the selected entrant is a Canadian resident, before being declared a winner, selected entrant must correctly answer, unaided, a time-limited, mathematical skill-testing question to be administered by e-mail or by telephone at a pre-arranged, mutually convenient time.

If selected entrant is found to be ineligible or otherwise not in compliance with these official rules, or, where the selected entrant is a Canadian resident, if selected entrant fails to correctly answer the skill-testing question, prize will be forfeited and awarded to an alternate winner in Sponsors' sole discretion in accordance with these official rules.”

This made me wonder…Are Canadians just that good at math or does Sephora have something against Canadians and are trying to find a sneaky way to exclude them? Maybe they’re afraid of getting sued by some random American if a Canadian should win (perhaps a Canadian should sue for sweepstakes discrimination). Unfortunately, I don’t think very many reasons, no matter how fantastic or ludicrous, would surprise me.

Idiocy Tidbit

I had school all last night, so unfortunately my brain hasn't had much of a chance to put together anything cohesive. So without further ado, here is another example of the rampant idiocy that our society seems to be beset with:

Man arrested for paying with $2 Bills.

I especially loved the Baltimore Police spokespersons comment:

"It's a sign we're all a little nervous in the post-9/11 world."

Profound. If we use two dollar bills, the terrorists win!

Knowing and Undergoing

“…a man who knows is quite different than a man who undergoes.”
--from Foucalt’s Pendulum by Umberto Eco.

It’s been said in a million and one different ways. I know that everyone already knows this, but being reminded is always a good thing. Knowing something is not the same as actually doing it. Once I finally decided to make IT my ‘career’, I started actually putting some study in, and started getting some certifications. My first cert (-ification, not the breath mint) came in ’01, my CCNA, and boy was I pumped! Judging by the adverts, riches with little effort would be mine for the asking. I hate the idea of attending a money gouging college, who needs it? (I still don’t think that people necessarily “need” college. OK, some definitely do, but that’s for another time and place) Another basic cert or two and I’ll swim in ginormous salary pools. Oops.

It didn’t take long for me to come across the term “lab rat”. This is someone with the requisite certifications who has no practical experience. Well, shit, time to have a conversation with myself.

“Self, I guess I can’t fool anyone into blindly handing over a high-paying job, what options do I have now? “

“Get your dumb ass into the trenches and start working”, Self replied.

Good advice. Now, after a few years of actual work, I’m nearly finished with my undergraduate degree (hey, shut up, at least I’ll get it done before 30) and have been paying dues for the last few years. I’m still not exactly where I would like to be, but I’m a hell of a lot closer that I was, and I’ve learned a lot more along the way.

A coulple of nights ago, after reading the beginning quote, I finally realized that Self was basically giving me the same advice that it had in ’01, but this time it applied to poker. Get in the trenches. Play through that shit. Gut it out.

I’ve spent much of my time as a poker “lab rat”. Lot’s of study, reading, and writing, but not so much actual ‘undergoing’. I’ve read all over 2+2 about downswings much larger than mine, and here I was with the audacity to bitch and moan about a minimal 30 BB swing. Iggy had a tough month last month (or was it the month before?) and made mention of it. He gutted through it and has emerged golden, likely on top of his game more than ever. Pauly has made mention of the same in his documentations. There are countless others out there who have, and are, playing through it.

It was tough to admit this to myself, but it had to be done, and now that it’s on the page, it’s strangely liberating. I offer many apologies for boring (and likely annoying) those who stop by here, and of course, many thanks for actually coming back.

.There has been enough knowing. It’s time to start undergoing.

No sleep for you!

Here I sit, all brokenhearted.
Tried to play last night, but again played retarded.
Went to work today and took a chance,
Tried to write a decent post, had nothing but inane rants.

If you came here today looking for any quality, I don’t think it’s gonna happen since I’m cruising on about two hours of sleep. To say it was ‘fitful’ would be putting an overly positive spin on it. I did have my first poker nightmare, though. In my dream I tilted off my entire online bankroll, so vivid I actually had to check when I woke up. Fun stuff, maybe I should lay off the spicy food or something.

For something worthwhile, gentle reader, you might enjoy this thread I came across on 2+2 in the wee hours. It hits a bit on what I was rambling about yesterday, and made me feel a bit better.

I’ll try not to be a basket case about dumb shit tomorrow, see you then.

Expecting a Loss

Yesterday I took a proverbial punch in the stomach and found myself down $62. More specifically, -10BB at 2/4 and -11BB at $1/2. These things are going to happen, and I know that such a loss is barely worth mentioning. It’s not like I left the tables bruised and bloody, just a gut shot that stung a bit, but with every loss comes some serious thinking.

I played well at the $2/4 tables, but I simply got sucked out on during a couple of key hands. Couple that with the fact that I won 2 pots out of approximately 250 hands, and it was pretty obvious that the cards were not going to fall for me. Then I proceeded to make the extremely grievous error of dropping down to $1/2 and morphing into super weak tight boy, folding hands that would have been winners (that I wouldn’t normally have folded) and pushing hands that were obviously beat. Needless to say, after a few of these I decided to close up shop in a very grumpy mood.

So, why was I on tilt so bad for the next few hours? What I think may be the answer came to me this morning while making myself some bacon. (For those who may be unaware, bacon has the magical ability to make everything better) I came into the session yesterday truly expecting to win, and I think that for me this is a bad thing. This may seem counterintuitive, since expecting to lose can easily turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I’ll explain why it seems to work better for me, and perhaps for you, too.

I don’t go into a game truly expecting to lose money. When I say that I ‘expect to lose’ it’s my way of steeling myself against what are usually the inevitable suckouts and bad play at these low limits. In the back of my head, I still believe that I can beat these folks. It’s sort of a modified “Expect the worst, hope for the Best” train of thought. If I go into a session expecting to get beat up, I don’t worry about it nearly as much and will continue to play my best game. If I end up actually getting beat up, no biggie, and if I take away a win, so much the better. Yesterday I came into the session expecting, nay, demanding a win. I won my first two pots pretty early, and expected things to continue on the same course. After all, I think it, therefore it IS, right? Wrong.

An unyielding expectation of a winning session left me $62 lighter, with a river of raging blood coursing through my veins and the inexplicable urge to scream like a monkey and throw feces at my PC's (wheee, rhyming is fun). This expectation to win, in my case, makes me feel like I’ve lost to an inferior and sets the tilt-meter into the red. If I expect to get beat up and win, I feel like the triumphing underdog. Maybe I’ve watched WAY too many Rocky movies, but it’s what works for me, and hopefully I won’t make the same mistake again, at least for a while.

By using it to avoid tilt and other bad play nastiness, expecting to lose just may be the key to your next big win. (For extra insurance, it may also be +EV to eat some bacon while you play.)

My Freeroll Story

I was hoping to post today with some great news about the WSOP freeroll that I played on Full Tilt (bonus code HHead) yesterday, but alas, all I can bring to the table is a bit of disappointment.

1400 and some-odd people were signed up, but I think that only 500-600 were actually playing. At my first table there were only 3 humans, and it took me two full levels to convince the other two players that we could make money just taking turns stealing the blinds from the people that weren’t there. Finally they understood, sort of. One guy was with it from the start, the other guy just couldn’t seem to grasp the concept that a raise would take the blinds from these folks. There were three or four times where he would call and check it down with the absent player, and three times the absent player won. Ugh. He was wasting time, and his demonstrated lack of mental acuity was getting really annoying, because I knew when we finally got some players he would not be lasting long.

Finally, the humans started trickling in. Guy on my right and I were getting along well (the dumbass from the first hour had helped build our solidarity), and just stayed out of each others way while we chopped down the giant stack who came to the table. I love giant stacks in the middle stages who assume they are invulnerable simply by virtue of said big stack.

Fast forward. There is 40-45 people left when I finally get a table change, and hip hop hooray, it’s Shelly! With blinds at 1K/2K ante 250, she was getting pretty short w/ around 14K. Hell, I wasn’t exactly rich, as I only had about 25K or so. I decided to get aggressive with an AJ, getting called by an AK, and fortunately that whore sucked a J out of the deck for me to double me up to about 50K. Sweet, I had some time now. Shelly went out on a 77 when she had to push and got nailed with a 10 10, and I was all alone again. It was sad seeing her bust, as I had visions of a blogger comeback and stampede to the finish.

After taking a couple of pots, I was still sitting with about the same 50K when we are down to 27. After being moved to my new table, I find myself UTG with JJ, and everyone at my table has at least 3x my stack, so I raise to 6x BB in the hopes of getting called by a coinflip or inferior hand, and I get raised from 12K to 24K. the back of my head is yelling “Higher PP! Abort, you giant headed monkey! I decide to go ahead and push and take my chances, on the logic that I was still a really low stack and would need to double up to have any chance at winning. Dammit, the guy had AA and I couldn’t manage a second suckout. It did make me feel a little better that the flop came all undercards, which I would have pushed on, in any case.

Not a bad performance, but I can’t help but be disappointed. I just wasted 3.5 hours and had nothing to show, not even a token payout. Then Mrs. Head pipes up: What else would you have done with that 3.5 hours?”

OK, fine. Most likely nothing, point taken. (I may have saved the world though or something, you never know…….)