Posts tagged Home Game

Winning Poker Formula:Play Against the Weak. Losing Poker Formula:Play Against the Strong

I’ll just come out and say it: I play poker to win money.

Just like any other poker player, I will take money from my friends, my ene­mies, my neigh­bor, the fathers of my son’s pre-school friends and even my wife.  Hell, if my grand­mother would sit down with me I would try my darnedest to take her money as well.

In order to win more money at poker, I have done what any true poker player does: study.

I study a lot.

I buy the books: Sit ‘n Go Strat­egy, Har­ring­ton on Hold ‘em, Online Ace, etc. I under­line impor­tant parts, take notes and imple­ment the techniques.

I take inter­net courses:  Deep­stacks Uni­ver­sity, the online inter­ac­tive course endorsed by Mike “The Mouth” Matu­sow. (great site by the way!)

I have dis­cus­sions with fel­low poker play­ers about strat­egy, odds, etc.

You’d think with all this dili­gent work my results would be bet­ter.  Online I am a break even player. Home games:winner.  Casino games: loser. To be hon­est, I am an over­all loser in poker. Not huge num­bers, but enough to irk me. Make me want to crack the nut.

After all this study­ing, prac­tic­ing and play­ing, I have come to real­ize there is only one REAL win­ning for­mula for poker: Play against play­ers that are worse than you are.  Sounds sim­ple, but it’s true. This is a preda­tory sport and the strong feast on the weak.

You want to beat the game, look for the table full of losers.

Top 10 Traits of a Los­ing Poker Player:

10.  He has a short stack. A good player knows that to win, his stack has to be replen­ished. Oth­er­wise he’s not play­ing poker. It’s called play­ing bingo.

9. A big talker, giv­ing lessons = BIG LOSER.

8. Looks like he’s been up all night. Prob­a­bly try­ing to get even. Win­ners go home when they are los­ing and cut their losses.

7. Com­plains about back beats.

6. Goes to the ATM. Def­i­nitely means he is going beyond his intended bud­get and prob­a­bly not using good bankroll management.

5. Plays almost every hand: loser

4. Tries to ver­bally intim­i­date the other play­ers. LOSER!

3. Talks about how much he won last night. LOOOOOOO-SER!

2. Throws his cards at the dealer.

1. Makes quick over-sized bets.

I am prob­a­bly not telling you any­thing new. But how many of us truly abide by these rules. It ain’t rocket sci­ence, but it works. In fact, it works way bet­ter than read­ing, study­ing or talk­ing about poker. To para­phrase Texas Dolly: Poker is a game of peo­ple played with cards.

I play poker to win money from the weak.

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

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The Host Gift

I finally get an invite to the home game I’ve been sub­tlety lob­by­ing to get into.

This is a group of the cool dad’s from my son’s pre-school. I casu­ally let them know I play poker, and then patiently wait to be invited into the inner cir­cle. It’s like dodge­ball in ele­men­tary school. I des­per­ately want to be included in the fun, but inevitably feel like the last one chosen.

Now that I have the invite, my next con­cern is what to bring for the host gift. This is after all, a friendly game. After too much delib­er­a­tion, I set­tle on a bot­tle of wine. Not the good stuff of course, I want to be gra­cious, not stu­pid. Does this make me a bad per­son? Prob­a­bly, but I’m just try­ing give the right gift for the right sit­u­a­tion. It’s like try­ing to read an oppo­nent. In this sit­u­a­tion I think the B minus wine is enough to drag in the pot.

I arrive at the game, offer my wine to the host and take my seat with other guys. Tonight is going to be good. I am def­i­nitely going to fit in here. Until I don’t.

The guys start com­ment­ing on the wine they are drink­ing. Tan­nin this, vel­vet that. Uh oh. My okay wine is now a tick­ing time bomb ready to expose me as Mr. Cheap. Now I know I am fucked.

I silently accept defeat. I was out­played at the wine game. No big­gie. Just like when I take a lick­ing at the poker table, I do some eval­u­a­tion, make some adjust­ments and try not to repeat the same mistakes.

Thank­fully, these guys aren’t nearly as judg­men­tal as I am. A cou­ple quips about my wine being sub-par, I’m off the hook. And the best news is that while these guys know wine, they don’t know shit about poker. But tonight, I don’t really care. I’m happy to just make new friends. It’s just gravy that these new friends will call a big raise with J8 in early posi­tion.

Even though the game is juicy, I’m just play­ing to make friends and drink (some­one else’s) good wine.

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

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Latin Ballroom or Pass the Trash

I’ve been mar­ried for 10 years, have 2 kids and almost no time to myself. If you count my inter­net porn babes as com­pany, then I do in fact have no time to myself. When I get a call to join a neighbor’s home game on a ran­dom Wednes­day night, I think to myself, “What would I rather do? Watch the finale of So You Think You Can Dance with my wife, or hang out with the guys smok­ing pot, telling lies and act­ing like a 15 year old.” Hmmmmmmmmm

I arrive at the game a bit giddy. This night is going to be fun. Buy in is $80 and it’s dealer’s choice. Every­one hates NLH at home games. It’s too slow, too restrictive…requires too much tal­ent! I know this going in. We are going to play games that are just a hair above roulette in skill level. Shit, I was going to be watch­ing Tiffany and Raj do the Latin Ball­room, even if I lose $80 at stu­pid games of chance, I’m a win­ner. I’ll gladly play 3 hours of “Pass The Trash” if I can escape the suf­fer­ing of a round of com­ments from the faggy danc­ing judges about how much Raj extended his arms dur­ing the pirou­ettes. Not that I have a prob­lem with gay or danc­ing. But really? Is this even a contest?

Tonight I am catch­ing bad cards. Cou­ple that with miss­ing some of the “sub­tleties” of Pass the Trash and I am thru my first buy in. It’s only 8:30. Raj is still doing pirou­ettes. RE-BUY!

At 9:07, my sec­ond buy-in is gone. Raj or chips? Raj or chips? Raj or chips? It’s a tough one, but at this point I need to acknowl­edge the grace and beauty of Raj’s danc­ing. He actu­ally does have a place in my life. When all the money is gone and there is absolutely noth­ing left to do, Raj is the answer.

I come home. My wife remarks that I am home early. Bad night. I take my place on the couch and man­age to show some enthu­si­asm when I ask, “Hey did I miss Raj and Tiffany?” “Nope“‘ she says, “just in time.” I force a smile and say, “Great! Can’t wait to see them really nail this Latin Ball­room.”

Some­times I play poker to post­pone the inevitable.

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

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A Few Ounces Lighter

I was feel­ing a few ounces lighter. I cer­tainly wasn’t los­ing weight as a result of my eat­ing dur­ing the hol­i­days. Then I fig­ured it out. I’d lost my balls. It hap­pened dur­ing a No Limit Hold Em ring game when I couldn’t make myself call an all in bet. I was almost pos­i­tive I was in the lead, but I was hav­ing a good night and my stack was healthy. If I called and lost, it would dec­i­mate me. I played it safe, or more like a wuss, and folded only to be shown a hand weaker than mine. My oppo­nent smiled as he raked in a $500 pot.

What hap­pened to me? I used to be as aggres­sive as they came. I used to be THAT guy. I know you have to be aggres­sive. That’s how I play. Or at least I thought I did. Sure, most of my early, highly aggres­sive play was in online SNGs, but cer­tainly, that must translate.

All I really knew was that I needed my balls back.

When you’re look­ing for some­thing, it’s always best to retrace your steps.  Go to the last place you saw it and look there. So that’s what I did. I went online to the Full Tilt Super Turbo SNGs. Cheap ones. $14 +$1.

I chose the Super Tur­bos because they are all about aggres­sion. Win fast or lose fast. All in or noth­ing. I played a bunch.

Promptly turned $100 into $0. Felt good, too. For the first time in a month, I was play­ing with con­fi­dence again. It actu­ally felt bet­ter to lose with con­fi­dence rather than book a few puss-played wins. I wasn’t the timid lit­tle mouse that got bul­lied in the NLH ring game. At least now I had a lit­tle fight in me.

So in the end, it cost me $100 to get my balls back. A bar­gain at twice the price. Way cheaper than the $500 neu­ti­cles I got for my dog.

I guess some­times I play poker to re-learn lessons.

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

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Am I here to make friends, or money?

I was eager to accept when I received an invite to my neighbor’s home game. The last few months have been all about chang­ing dia­pers and feed­ing for­mula to my 6 month old at all hours of the night, I need a night out. The buy-in is $60 and I fig­ure a night of male bond­ing and fart jokes is worth at least that. Some­times just get­ting out of the house is a win.

I think to myself, let’s play loose. Be social. Go with the flow. Get to know the guys. Make it more about the hang, than play­ing poker. First hand we play, I can’t help myself. The com­pet­i­tive spirit in me gets uncon­sciously ignited and I play aggres­sive deceit­ful, dare I say “good” poker. Sud­denly I get drunk with the knowl­edge that I am clearly the best poker player at this table. I prey on these poor suck­ers who don’t know my style by mak­ing a stone cold bluff and win. Oops, just took $30 off my neigh­bor. Next hand, I catch a real hand and win, another $20 from him. Fuck, I need to slow down, or at least stop tak­ing money from my neigh­bor. Next few hands I show some dis­ci­pline: fold­ing don­key hands so I don’t suck out on some­one and make them mad.

I man­age to slow down and focus on talk­ing to the guys. Then it all changes. Billy, the stoner to my left who is a dead ringer white ver­sion of Will.i.am, breaks out a per­fectly rolled spleef from the Far­macy (god bless Los Ange­les). I jump at the chance to smoke some weed ( I did hap­pen to notice sev­eral bags of gummi bears on the counter. This is going to be a good night.) I take a few puffs and just like that, stoned.

The next hand is PLO 8 or bet­ter. Now let me just say that I com­pletely suck at this game. I fig­ure this is a good time for a lit­tle give back to secure next week’s invite. Fast for­ward to me hit­ting a straight flush on the river. A steel wheel none the less. The stone cold nuts if there ever were any. There is a pause. One of the guys says to me, Why so quiet? You got the straight flush? I am so stoned and stunned all I can say is, “Yes, yes I do.” Then I bet, get four callers and take it down. Another $40 from my neigh­bor, along with about $100 in the pot. What a time to be get­ting cards. I just want to fit in, hang with the guys, get invited back. Now I am the jack­ass who smokes the free weed, has a horse­shoe up his ass and takes money from the host.

Most of the time, I play poker to win money, get an adren­a­line rush, act a lit­tle bit irre­spon­si­ble, but this time I really just wanted to get out of the house, meet some new guys and maybe even expand my social cir­cle. I had a dif­fer­ent rea­son for play­ing poker tonight, but the cards wouldn’t coop­er­ate. Some­times you have the weapons when you are try­ing to make friends. Other times you get caught naked when you’re among the wolves. Poker is a cruel game that way. An unpre­dictable, ruth­less roller­coaster. And that’s why I love it.

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

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It’s Christmastime All Year Long

A cou­ple times a month, I make it to the Bicy­cle, Com­merce or Hol­ly­wood Park casino. Okay, it’s once a week. Some­times twice. But I wish it were more. On those days, there is a lit­tle extra skip in my step.  I smile a bit wider. Of course, the day couldn’t go any slower. When 7:30pm finally arrives, I eagerly hop in the car and head down to the Bike.  I can’t get there fast enough.  But if I didn’t cut off that dude on the 710 I would’ve have missed the light and never got­ten that park­ing space or those glo­ri­ous cow­boys on my first hand. You know, wings on a mos­quito shit?

Finally I get to the tables, sit down and away we go. First hand.  Cow­boys get busted and cost a rack. Sec­ond hand, fold. Third hand,  I fold. I con­tinue to fold for the next 2 hours  Must have spent my karma else­where. Maybe I shouldn’t have cut that guy off.

This is utterly ridicu­lous. I think I should loosen up. But, I did that last week and promised myself I would exer­cise dis­ci­pline tonight. Instead of donk­ing off $200 on unplayable hands out of bore­dom, I fold. After 3 hours, I start won­der­ing who I pissed off. Just last week it seemed like the poker gods were hav­ing an orgy while I was play­ing. Now some­one ain’t get­ting laid up there, but they’re mak­ing damn sure I get roy­ally fucked down here.

Usu­ally I fend off the bore­dom by gorg­ing myself on a huge bowl of ice cream, or ask­ing the pimp next to me how his girls are per­form­ing. But tonight they’re out of ice cream and the pimp just got a call and left abruptly.  It was prob­a­bly Sheila. He did men­tion she was with a new cus­tomer tonight. Hope she’s okay.

Now it’s 1am. I have drib­bled away $78. This night has not turned out as planned. I had no action at the table. The play­ers weren’t par­tic­u­larly inter­est­ing. The food wasn’t sat­is­fy­ing. Why did I play tonight? Why do I ever play this bor­ing game? I sit with this for a moment and then it hits me.

Every time those cards are dealt to me, I feel like a kid on Christ­mas about to open an incred­i­ble present. That feel­ing of antic­i­pa­tion and poten­tial joy is amaz­ing for me. Even though I didn’t get to play a hand tonight, I did open about 200 Christ­mas presents. All of them were essen­tially ugly clothes from grandma, but I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

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

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Win big tonight, Honey!

Those words are the kiss of death to me.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard them and actu­ally won.

The part that sucks the most is my wife is so earnest when she says them.  She’s actu­ally root­ing for me.  She wants me to win. Yet, that’s all it takes for me to know I’m fucked before I even start.  I should just take my money and go to a strip club.

Uh, Honey, you know those those nice, encour­ag­ing words you gave me before I went out?  Well, they fucked up my head. As soon as I heard them, I knew I would lose at poker so I went to Crazy Girls and spent $300 to have this Latina spin­ner dry hump my leg.”

That’s at least log­i­cal.  It doesn’t say much for me as a hus­band, but it makes sense. How­ever, I don’t do that. I go and play. When I walk in the the casino, the valet might as well  yell “Dead man walkin’.”  Now it’s just a mat­ter of putting in the time and money to make this self-fulfilling prophecy come true.

I tell myself I’m not even super­sti­tious.  But obvi­ously I am.  Okay, I admit, I don’t like play­ing poker on Fri­day the 13th either.  What’s that about?  I’m a seri­ous poker player.  I don’t believe in luck.  I roll my eyes when I even hear some­one com­plain about it.  But if I hear the three words “Win big tonight!” I men­tally throw in the towel.   Same thing when I see that dealer who killed me when I had quads.

Okay, so I’m super­sti­tious.  I can accept that.  The thing that makes me crazy is that I don’t adjust my game.  If I have some­one really loose on my right I adjust.  Some­one really tight on my left, I change my attack.  So from now on I’m going to adjust my game when I hear those words “Win big Honey!”.   I’m not playing.

I’m prob­a­bly not going to the strip club either, but I always won­dered what a $300 ice cream sun­dae looks like.

I guess some­times I play poker to know some­times I shouldn’t.

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

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Fucking Stanley

C’mon Stan­ley, show your hand! You bet, I called, you show.” There’s a big sigh.  A shrug.  Another sigh. A very long pause.  “C’mon is my straight good?” I ask impa­tiently.   Stan­ley gives yet another sigh and turns over the nuts.

He’s slow rolling again.

Oh, that’s slowrolling?” He asks coyly.  “I’m sorry, Dude.”   Yeah, right. He knows he has my num­ber.  He’s just one of those guys that’s gets under my skin.

Why do I choose to spend my Mon­day nights with this guy?  The rest of the week I’m sur­rounded, mostly, by peo­ple that want my life to be bet­ter.  Not this guy.  He wants me guess­ing whether I’m com­ing or going.  He wants me on the verge of get­ting up and leav­ing the table.  Noth­ing would make him hap­pier than to hear “Fuck you , Stan­ley” and wait for the door to slam.

You know what?

I love it. I even love him.  He’s a liv­ing, breath­ing, slow rolling work­out for my patience and anger man­age­ment.  You know what else? I’m get­ting in bet­ter shape. What used to send me into a mur­der­ous rage now only barely irks me.  I know what’s com­ing and I roll with it.  I wish I could say I have a zen-like amuse­ment about it all,  but I don’t.

So here we are again.  Stan­ley bet. I called. I wait. He’s really Hol­ly­wood­ing. “I’m vul­ner­a­ble” He says.   “Just show it.” I say.  Reluc­tantly, he turns over a full house.  “I have the small one.”  He says with a smirk. “That’s good…”  I say.  Then I wait.  And pro­ceed “…because I have the big one. Oh, is that slowrolling?  My bad, dude.”

I play poker to say “Push those chips a lit­tle closer to me, bitch.”  Okay, so I still hold a lit­tle resentment.

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

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