Why Do I Play Poker?

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Sit ‘n Go Strategy Part 1

SNGs used to be the rea­son for the lion’s share of my poker win­nings.  Then I got busy and didn’t play for a cou­ple of years.  When I came back I found myself a loser.  I went from crush­ing $50SNGs to los­ing at $16’s. WTF?  Turns out, in my absence, every­one got bet­ter but me.  I had a good game for 2005.  Not good enough for 2010.

What am I going to do about it?  I’m hit­ting the books. Start­ing with one in particular, Sit ‘n Go Strat­egy by Collin Mosh­man.  It’s a good book. You should buy it. Any­way, here is quick glimpse of what I’ve learned. It will prob­a­bly take four posts to go through the whole book.

Lets get started.

Low Blind Strategy.

For this sec­tion you should assume 8–10 play­ers with low blinds and no antes.

1. Start think­ing in terms of Tour­na­ment Equity.  This is a vari­a­tion on Expected Value.  Basi­cally to uses the Author;s words is your “fair share of the prize money.

2.Play super tight.  But when you do play, be aggressive. Play your pre­mium hands and some coor­di­nated, spec­u­la­tive hands. Now is not the time to make any tricky moves. This is not the time to gam­ble.  That comes later.

3. Label your oppo­nents.  This is key and some­thing I would never do because online I thought I would never see them again and I was wrong.  Truth­fully, it doesn’t mat­ter if you see them again, size them up.  It will get you more involved in the game and play­ing on a deeper level

4. Don’t check mon­sters, bet them.

5. When peo­ple bet into a mon­ster flop they usu­ally don’t have it.

6. Three bet­ting means some­thing.  Usu­ally aces or kings.

7. Aggression Prici­ple.  Sim­i­lar to Gap Concept. Being the bet­tor raiser is bet­ter than being the caller. This is because bet­ting and rais­ing allow the pos­si­bil­ity of win­ning the pot imme­di­ately since every­one may fold.  You can never win imme­di­ately by calling.

8. Hands to play early posi­tion. Pretty obvi­ous but here goes. AA, KK, QQ, AK You should always be will­ing to go all in with a big pair pre flop.  This is one of the only times you want to do this in low blind play.

9. Hands to play in mid­dle late posi­tion. Pre­mium hands plus  spec­u­la­tive hands like suited con­nec­tors and suited aces with the fol­low­ing caveats. Must be in  mid­dle or late posi­tion. It’s an unraised pot and your hand could turn into some­thing that would break your opponent.

10. Late Posi­tion Steal/Value hands cri­te­ria. Play all the hands as in early and mid posi­tion plus

  1. You have a decent hand in late position
  2. Every­one has folded to you.
  3. You think a raise will win the pot right there.

Next time,  we’ll look at mid blind play.  Also, you should get the book.  I skipped a lot.  Any­way, I hope this helps.  Get ready to loosen up for mid and high blind play.

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    Pay the man his money. Eric Schwartz — $100 richer.

    It’s time to pay up, just like KGB said in Rounders so many years ago. Eric Schwartz is the win­ner of one hun­dred Amer­i­can dol­lars for his sub­mis­sion to why­doiplay­poker. Thanks to every­body who sub­mit­ted.  We learned a lot.  Mostly, that peo­ple don’t want to sub­mit their sto­ries.  This is why Eric Schwartz will be the first and last recip­i­ent of our monthly give­away.  Feel free to con­tinue to sub­mit,  were just not pay­ing anymore.

    But we do want to share Eric’s sub­mis­sion.   So here goes…

    Why do I play poker?

    Two Words.

    Mel Fuck­ing Gibson.

    Mel Fuck­ing pater­nal holocaust-denying (fine, Mis­ter Chris­t­ian.  I’m a cru­ci­fix­ion denier.  Who’s got the pho­to­graphic evi­dence?) Gibson.

    Mad Douchebag Max, no mat­ter how bat­shit insane, no mat­ter how much the ass­hole no mat­ter many whiskeys beyond Thun­der­dome he rides, will always get the bet­ter table at Spago or what­ev­er­the­fuck ” in” place there is now, which I wouldn’t know about because I’m not Mel Shrimp­ing the Mal­ibu Bar­bie Gibcuntson.

    Because in life,  money, power, they play.  They play always.  Guar­an­teed if Mother Theresa and Mel Gibfelch wanted front and cen­ter at the Bon Jovi reunion, the wrin­kled nun would be hang­ing with the lep­ers in coach.  By lep­ers, I mean me, except I fuck­ing hate Bon Jovi, prob­a­bly because he’d get the seats right next to Mel Gibanalslurp.

    But sit Mel Dow­nun­dereater next to me at Hol­ly­wood Park and we have a dif­fer­ent sit­u­a­tion.  At the table, we are equal.  For at the table, money?  Power? Irrel­e­vant.  What mat­ters is the cards.  And cards change every hand.  That means for­tune changes every hand.  I’m a song­writer.  I wait for inspi­ra­tion.  I hope for tal­ent.  I pray for flashes of bril­liance, for the per­fect song.  These things might never come.  But you wait long enough, you sit long enough, you are patient enough and have a big enough bankroll to sur­vive the doubts, droughts and suck-outs, you WILL find your­self look­ing at the cor­ners of two cards, bent upwards under­neath your unwashed thumb, with As on them.  And when you do, and when Mis­ter Cock­odile Dundee whips out his uncir­cum­cised, latex-ignorant kan­gadong and throws it on the table, you can chop that moth­er­fucker off and smile all the way up the 405.

    And that is why I play poker.

    Thanks Eric!   See you at the tables!

    Stay tuned for our about­face at whydoipoker.net!

    Wow that was a shit­load of excla­ma­tion points!

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    I’m not showing my cards any more.

    I think some­times I’m too nice.  I like to think of myself as a hard-nosed player.  But I’m not.  Some­times It hits me that I want peo­ple to like me almost as much as I like chips.  Espe­cially at home games.

    Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be the dick who begrudg­ingly gets an invite when the game is short.  But I’m not giv­ing away infor­ma­tion any­more in the hopes of being liked.

    Here’s my pledge.

    1. No more show­ing my ace to make my oppo­nent feel­ing good about his fold.
    2. No more show­ing my suc­cess­ful bluffs even though it prob­a­bly is the most sat­is­fy­ing activ­ity in existence.
    3. No more show­ing my aces in the big blind when every­one folds in hopes of some sympathy.

    Truth­fully, I don’t even think show­ing hands gives away that much infor­ma­tion.  It just wreaks of coop­er­a­tion and that has no place  at the poker table.

    If there’s still some part of my per­son­al­ity that needs to be liked I will com­pen­sate by bring­ing more snacks, bet­ter beer.  But I will not show my cards.

    I used to play poker to make friends.  As of today, I play to win.

    Why do you play? Let me know at stories@whydoiplaypoker.net

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    At first I thought I was playing poker.

    This post was going to start with me fum­ing on the car ride home after a dis­mal night at the casino.  But after a lit­tle reflec­tion, I real­ized the bad night wasn’t the point, it was my bad thinking.

    It started with me sit­ting at a $100 NLH game. There was this drunk guy, so drunk the dealer had to help him count his chips drunk. He was sit­ting in front of a pile of chips and rais­ing every, and I mean every, hand.  It looked like easy money.  In a pro­nounced slur, he would tell any­body who lis­tened that he had racked up over a $1000 in less than half an hour.

    It was obvi­ous this guy wasn’t walk­ing out of the casino with one dime of this money.  I fig­ured, why not be a pal and help him part with it.  Why wait for a great hand? This guy’s drunk, why not help myself?

    I pick up a very mar­ginal hand. It’s an insta-fold against any­one but this guy. He raises and I’m happy to get it all in.  He’s happy to call.

    I have him dom­i­nated.  He catches.  Re-buy. No big deal.

    Soon, I’m against him heads up again.  He puts in his auto-raise.   Once again, I fig­ure I’m ahead and I call.  Turns out I’m right again, but moments later,  I’m out another buy-in.

    This hap­pens a few more times.

    Get­ting the pic­ture?  Of course you do. At first glance, I was out­raged I wasn’t win­ning.  But then I started think­ing about it.  I may have known where I was, but truth­fully I was barely ahead. At best, no more than 70/30.

    I never con­sid­ered there was a good chance I could lose four times in a row.  In my excite­ment to take down the King of Coro­nas, I didn’t fac­tor in the grim real­ity:  he had the chips to weather the storm and I didn’t.

    Big mis­take.

    So now I real­ize that I didn’t even play poker that night.  I gam­bled on a few expen­sive coin flips.

    And from now on, that’s not why I play poker.

    Why do you play? Let me know at stories@whydoiplaypoker.net

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    Poker Optimism — Number 1 Sign of a Losing Poker Player

    Every­one loves an opti­mist.  Their enthu­si­asm is con­ta­gious.  They’re go-getters.

    You know what?  I’ve had an ass­load of opti­mists lately.  And truth­fully, the only place I want to see them is at the poker tables. Prefer­ably, with their opti­mistic fuck­ing mouths shut.

    Here’s why? They’ll opti­misti­cally go to the ATM machine way more times than they’ll make that mir­a­cle one –outer.

    If it’s so easy, then why do I sound so mad?  Thanks for ask­ing. I get tired of hear­ing how opti­mism and enthu­si­asm are the be all end all of every­thing.  Every­one thinks those qual­i­ties are great. What about their cousins greed and self-delusion?  Well, they’re con­nected.  Alan Schoon­maker, Ph.D, put it best in his book, “Your Worst Poker Enemy”- “Destruc­tive emo­tion #1: Hope”

    Here’s the big secret.  Poker is really about things not hap­pen­ing.   Top pair on the flop usu­ally holds up.  Make all the opti­mists pay dearly for their sunny outlooks.

    Don’t get me wrong, I have my opti­mistic moments.  I’m basi­cally a long term opti­mist, short term pes­simist. Both in poker and in life.

    I play poker to watch the opti­mists drown in their own hope.

    Why do you play? Let me know at stories@whydoiplaypoker.net

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    Full Tilt’s Rush Poker — A lesson in focus.….I think.

    I wish I could tell you a sure­fire strat­egy to beat the online poker site’s new game.  But I can’t.  Not even close. I have no idea how to win in that game.  I think it starts with a raise and then I’m not sure where to go from there. Maybe a lit­tle patience might give you a leg up.  What do I know?  I’ve logged in for forty five min­utes and played more hands than my first six months of poker combined.

    The thing that hit me most about Full Tilt’s Rush poker is how impor­tant it is not to look back.  In Rush, there is no way to see how the hand would’ve ended.  You’re whisked away to another table.  You have a new deci­sion to make. You don’t have time to think about what went right or wrong in the last hand.

    Unlike reg­u­lar poker, in Rush there is no “What if?” because the hand really doesn’t exist any­more. There’s not even a way to see “What if?” Actu­ally, this is great, because if there ever were a shitty game, it’s  “What if?”   It’s a sub­tle vari­a­tion on the time­less clas­sic “Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve.” Actu­ally, it’s the same game with a dif­fer­ent title.  Kinda like play­ing NYC Monop­oly or Grate­ful Dead Monop­oly.  Same game, dif­fer­ent theme.

    Now I’m not say­ing there isn’t a place for reflec­tion about your game or your life.  It’s essen­tial.  Just not at the table.

    I always have to remem­ber to be in the moment at the poker table. That’s the only thing that mat­ters right now. Who cares if my KQ would have made a straight? Think­ing about it only dis­tracts me from the hand at hand. It’s a recipe to com­pound my losses or, if I’m bask­ing in the glory of an amaz­ing play, min­i­mize my wins.

    So I’m going to keep play­ing Rush. Stay focused and try to avoid writ­ing blog posts while I’m doing it.  Because at  300 hands an hour, it’s damn near impossible.

    I play poker to help me stay focused in the present.

    Why do you play? Let me know at stories@whydoiplaypoker.net

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    Like Dexter, I also have a “Dark Passenger.”

    I’m all in!”

    I call!”

    He shows me his straight. I muck my 2 pair in dis­gust. It’s not that I got out­played. That doesn’t piss me off too much. What DOES piss me off is when I make a solid game plan on the way to the casino, but when I get there, my dark pas­sen­ger takes over and the game plan goes out the door. It’s like I am two peo­ple. On the one hand, I am a respon­si­ble father and hus­band. Patient, cre­ative and fru­gal. On the other hand, I am an aggres­sive poker player — impa­tient, impul­sive and some­times reckless.

    Okay, maybe my com­par­i­son to Dex­ter is an exag­ger­a­tion. After all, its been years since I hacked up some evil dude and threw his body parts in the ocean.

    I have the same con­ver­sa­tion every time I go to the casino. “Today I am going to play tight. No fish­ing. Only play posi­tion. Fold draws when I don’t have the odds. Go home when I lose my edge. Don’t go on tilt when I get a bad beat. And most impor­tantly, FOLD WHEN I KNOW I AM BEAT!” I look in the mir­ror. Remind myself that I am in control.

    Then I get to the casino, fast walk to the felt and plop down my chips and eagerly await my first Christ­mas present. 2 min­utes later, all my chips are in the mid­dle. 3 way action and I am on the nut flush draw on the flop. I almost have odds and con­vince myself this is a good spot to get it all in. 30 sec­onds later.….I am on tilt, call­ing for chips and ready to gam­ble. Just like that, enter my dark pas­sen­ger. It doesn’t take long until, I have lost my sec­ond buy-in. At this point, I look at my phone and real­ize I have been here for only 75 min­utes. Luck­ily the wall­pa­per on my iPhone is a pic­ture of my son. Instantly I snap back. My horns retract, my fangs retreat, my tail dis­ap­pears and I am myself again. I breath deeply and remind myself that I am not defined by my last hand of poker.

    I am always sur­prised when my dark side comes out, but I have come to be grate­ful for him as well. I use him as a mea­sure for my per­sonal growth. The day I can take a beat­ing and shake it off will be the day I have made it to the next level of con­scious­ness. It may sound a bit meta­phys­i­cal, but that’s one of the rea­sons I play poker.

    Why do you play? Let me know at stories@whydoiplaypoker.net

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    Some things don’t go well together. Connectivity and sit-n-go bubble strategy come to mind.

    There have been all sorts of things that keep me from play­ing my best poker online.   Mad at my boss.  Look­ing at too much porn. You get the picture.

    Well, the other night was the first time my com­puter got the best of me.

    I played a $24  + $2 Turbo 90 per­son tour­ney with a KO bonus of $4 per vic­tim.  What the hell?  Seemed like fun.

    Well, It was fun until I started get­ting dis­con­nected every other hand.

    Frus­trated, I tried to dump my chips with A2 under the gun but I spiked an ace and knocked out my oppo­nent. My first KO bonus. $4. Cool.

    I get dis­con­nected again.  And again. And again.

    I recon­nect  and to my sur­prise I have aces and action.  Two guys are going all in.  It’s my turn to act.  My hand gets auto­mat­i­cally folded.

    Fuck.

    Fuck you com­puter!  They would have held up too.  I would be the chip leader by a fuck­ing mile.

    I’m pissed. You have to take advan­tage of those spots.

    We’re get­ting close to the bub­ble.  The guy I would have knocked out pushes.  He has me cov­ered.  I have KK. We’re really close to the bub­ble, what to do?

    I don’t have to tell you what hap­pened .

    Okay, I will. Out on the bubble.

    I could’ve of waited, but I thought I was owed one because of those aces.  Where are my extra 40K in chips? I played like I had a rain check for a big win­ning hand.

    It doesn’t work that way.  I let my com­puter put me on tilt. Sure, it sucked that I was hav­ing con­nec­tiv­ity issues.  But I should have to reminded myself that my strat­egy for the end of the tour­na­ment had noth­ing to do with my con­nec­tiv­ity issues.  Irra­tionally, I thought I had one in the bank. And I didn’t. Even though it felt good to blame my com­puter, it had noth­ing to do with why I lost that tournament.

    I play poker is for the big scores.  It just eluded me last night.

    Why do you play? Let me know at stories@whydoiplaypoker.net

    P.S. I played another one the next night and pulled a 4th.  I’ll take $200 in profit. Gotta love the KO Bounty pay­ing your buy in. No con­nec­tiv­ity issues either.

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    Sometimes I need a break from Dockers and fat free salad dressing.

    A man can not be sus­tained on good, whole­some fam­ily life alone.  Or, at least, I can’t.  On a reg­u­lar basis I like to head to my local casino, Hol­ly­wood Park.  It’s not just for the poker either. The place is a real melt­ing pot and I get to rub elbows with peo­ple from walks of life I may never have the chance to otherwise.

    I know a lot of peo­ple that are alarm­ingly sim­i­lar.  CPAs, den­tists, and an ass­load of regional man­agers. As you might guess, this gets bor­ing.  The casino, on the other hand, is full of char­ac­ters that you would prob­a­bly would never meet any­where but the casino.

    I love it.

    Play­ing with peo­ple from all walks of life is what makes poker great.  I can’t think of a bet­ter com­mon denom­i­na­tor. I learn more about human­ity at the table than I would at a life­time of Neigh­bor­hood Watch meet­ings.  Okay fine, I don’t go to Neigh­bor­hood Watch meet­ings. That’s what regional man­agers are for. Where else can I hear from an ex-gangleader the way to make money is buy­ing fore­closed homes from HUD, Hous­ing Urban Devel­op­ment or some­thing like that.  Dude was a mil­lion­aire.   Or maybe he was lying.  Either way I don’t care.  I’m def­i­nitely not going to meet the rock tight porn direc­tor at one of these sushi rolling par­ties my wife tells me we’ve been invited to.  Actu­ally maybe I would.  But at the sushi party he’s not going into the details of the girl on girl scene gone bad because one of the actresses had some bad ceviche for lunch.

    I play poker to meet peo­ple I nor­mally wouldn’t.

    Why do you play? Let me know at stories@whydoiplaypoker.net

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    Yes, it was very hot today.

    We’ve all been there.  You sit down at the poker table next to a guy
    who has a com­ment about every­thing.  Some­one makes a rou­tine fold.
    “Some­times you can’t fight ‘em.” he says.  No.  Some­times you can’t
    fight ‘em.  He’s right.  He’s also going to ruin my night with this
    bull­shit.   Usu­ally I try and be nice and humor him on the first few
    com­ments.  I don’t want to be a total dick.

    It’s good to get out” he says.  Christ dude.  You might as well just
    say “I’m lonely”  or “I haven’t slept with a woman for years.”  That
    would be inter­est­ing.  At least then I could find out why the med­i­cine
    for the pso­rias isn’t work­ing.   Oh yeah, this guy is leav­ing
    dis­gust­ing skin flakes on the felt every time he reaches for his
    chips.  Which he never does because he is strat­egy is to bore every­one
    into giv­ing him their chips.  With every skin fleck I”m reminded I
    should’ve stayed home and played online.

    What’s good on the menu?” he mut­ters.  Before I can say “I think the
    pad-thai is okay” the iPod head­phones are on.

    Loud.

    Even thought this guy is harm­less, prob­a­bly even nice, he’s start­ing
    to affect my game.  I’m spend­ing too much energy on tun­ing him out and
    not enough on tun­ing into what the other play­ers are up to.  He’s
    worse for my psy­che than a maniac on my left.  There’s only one thing
    to do.

    Table change please”

    As I get up, the guy clue­lessly jokes, “Was it some­thing I said?”

    No” I lied.

    I’m sure the poor guy found some other unwill­ing sap to

    talk to about the weather.

    I usally play poker for inter­est­ing conversation.

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