100k hand insanity/ a month- long blog.

[daveT]

Day 3:

“#1 Crush”

I woke up this morning bloated, well, fine, I have gas. I am loudly contributing methane to the atmosphere, and doing my part to promote global warming.

Last night, I went to a coffee shop. The girl suggested a different kind of herbal tea. I think this is why by stomach is in so much pain this morning. I have started to take my laptop to various places to enjoy a semblance of normalcy.

I have decided on an impossible goal this month, 100,000 hands of poker: four tabling, ten hours a day. I just started two days ago and I am already going crazy. Last night, between contributing to water pollution several times through-out the night, I have dreamed only of four tables of Full Tilt Poker tables. I kept on waking up, scolding myself that dreams are supposed to be about figuring out life, or whatever, obviously too tired to recognize that this is my life now.

Before I begin to play, I think about that effing tea from the night before. I am reminded of a song that I heard a long time ago, called “coffee shop girl,” About a crush on a coffee shop girl. The Onion newspaper had an article on this just last week. The girl is not hitting on me, she is nice to every one.

She's a vegan.
She says her name is Megan
Though her name tag says Meegan.

This is start of a new poker blog. I mentioned my goal on the low-content thread and at first decided to not blog it. After further consideration, I changed my mind. I try to lead a private life, but perhaps for one month, I could do everything drastically different. I will only blog about this goal, and how this affects me. I will post some hands, maybe, but mostly philosophy, my state of mind and, of coarse graphs. I will post every time I move up in limits and post one graph for every ten- thousand hands I play.

I will also answer all pressing answers, such as will I make it, will I get laid (obv not), will I go insane?

I haven't played Limit poker in a while. I am pretty sure that I am still a winning player, if not, I am sure I could get my rhythm back soon enough.

This will only last this month. I really hope that if this goes well, someone else could write their own blog.

I am always discouraged when I see a tread that has 400 answers on it. For this reason, I will not post any responses, but I do hope that I write plenty to discuss. I welcome your encouragement and your insults, as I am a firm believer in balance.

I will post some other stuff tomorrow, as this is a little dated, obviously.

Today is 9- 5

Hands: 5,900 (a little behind schedule)

My stats are 26/16/2 at 6 max.

Happy reading.

Oh, yes, I don't know how to post charts from poker tracker, directions would be appreciated.

[Jamougha]

Stakes?

100K 4-tabling would probably be a record for hours in a month. GL man but I don't envy you! [img]/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img]

[MrWookie]

To post a chart: hit the print screen button. Open MS Paint. Hit Ctrl-V. Crop out the important part w/ the box select tool. Cut and paste to a new document. Save it as a PNG. Go to www.imageshack.us and follow their instructions to upload. Once you've uploaded, use the "direct link to image" code and paste it between an [ image ] tag and a [ /image ] tag (no spaces) on the forum.

[Dan BRIGHT]

Man 4 tabling limit!? I expect you'll make it half way thru, and then have a zen exp conscerning life and stop playin for a lil while

[daveT]

“A Whiter Shade of Pale”

A[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] A[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img] -vs- J[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]8[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]

T[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]2[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]7[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]4[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]9[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]

Playing heads up and flopped flush under flush. “This can't happen again for a while, sure enough it happens less than five minutes later at another table, (and twice today)

Right after that shock, flop set under set. This can't happen for a while, since it is about 1/10,000

Less than five minutes later:

77 -vs- QQ

Q79JQ

I achieved a miracle earlier because I flopped set under set and managed to do so by not capping every street. In fact I simply called and slow-played. In the end I was interested in what my opponent had, since nothing made sense but some weak pair or a cold bluff.

Lucky me, or am I turning weak-tight?

I think I have found a hole in my game, that is conceptually easy to fix, but is hard to put into practice. I can't seem to lay down top pair, top kicker, but I can't lay down AK lust because I am facing a river bet. I don't have to raise, but I guess I don't have to call either? But my W$SD is 55%, whatever, I guess mathematically, I am not supposed to find more folds.

Meh.

Anyways, the beats come along with poker, and losing is a part of gambling.

What I cannot stand is this:

HU

T7 -vs- K9o

Capped on every street:

75573

“Take it all Dizzy, it's yours”

“What!!!!!!!!”

We are both multi-tabling (how he affords it I have no idea)

“See, now you can tell all your friends about the easy money you just won.”

“Ugh, I'll tell them in a suicide letter”

Third party: “You guys are silly.”

I have been called an idiot, a cheater, been angle-shot, slow-rolled, been cheated, but what I cannot deal with is anyone soft-playing me. I don't understand what this person was trying to do. I find it entertaining to use the chat-box at times, and yes, I tell jokes, and I guess make people laugh and feel comfortable. I am NOT trying to make friends. It would be too bizarre to say that I found my girlfriend on-line. “Oh really, did you use E-Harmony” “Oh, no, I used Poker Stars?” “Really, they have a dating service?” “Well, not really......”

“By Your Side”

My friend is sweating me. “Is that real money?”

I fold K6o. “Dude, I would play K6. It's a good hand.”

“It's not a good hand.”

“I would pay see three cards with K6, dude....... I'm good at poker.”

“No your not.”

I fold KQ on a 274 boar

If I had a camera....... and a recorder.

“Confusing Possibilities”

Two A.M.; Orlando Florida

I see lights twirling, but I don't know what they are. I have been holucinating for the last eight hours. I have been riding my bicycle for close to 36 hours. I stopped twice in that time. Once to eat at Burger King, and another to go to a party in Saint Cloud. I have been chased by dogs and birds. People have jumped out in front of me, and cars have drove right up to my back tire.

None of that stuff really happened, it was all holucinations. I am approaching the lights and now I am falling, I hit the dirt. A police officer asks me if I am alright. I am standing in a hole in the road. I was riding on the wrong side of the cones and it never occurred to be careful. I am okay, I find a hotel two hours later.

The clerk knocks on the door at 2 o'clock. I hear it but I need to sleep. He opens the door, I roll over. If he wanted to kill me, I couldn't have stopped him. The night Clerk told him to check on me, that I look like hell.

Any athlete has obsessed about the wall. Pushing ourselves to the limits is what we do. “No Pain, No Gain.” is the time-honored adage. What happens when we go beyond? I read about the RAAM, the Race Across America. A 3,000 mile bike race that involved as little sleep as possible. The rule for day one is that you must ride for twenty four hours. Recently, they enforced at least four hours of sleep a day. The Tour De France has nothing on this race. Since they both race at the same time of year, the pros go for the glory, and the money. The RAAM has had little press coverage. In the late eighties, RAAM was gaining coverage, but the Press was more enthralled by the holucinations. When I read it, I was still a bike messenger and decided that I would love to try it.

There is no training for the RAAM, the human body simply cannot train. The average recovery time after racing the RAAM is a month.

All athletes are obsessed with the wall. “No Pain, No Gain,” has the implied “Don't over-do it.” hidden inside of it. What happens when we go beyond these walls? After 24 hours of riding, I couldn't bring myself to stop until I was in Orlando. I started in Miami, and 24 hours would have had me at Lake Okechobe.

Can't do 100 push-ups? Ever try, what happens when you achieve that goal, where was your wall, at what point did your body accept the situation and simply work? What if you make 100, will you stop?

These walls are all around us, it is the things that define our very existence. Someone broke the wall when the first ship went so far into sea that land was not longer visible. Flight was considered impossible, to dangerous. Now, we have a higher chance of tripping a breaking our neck than dying in a plane crash.

And nature. The wall was all that the dinosaurs could handle. Beyond the wall, nature figured out that the two legged animal was more proficient than the four legged animal. T-Rex vs Steggasaurus. What will happen when humans hit our own wall, and we know longer exist. What kind of beings will evolve. Scientists say that the cockroach is one of the oldest animals. Or Ants. Will the next thing have six legs?

As for my own walls. Leaving home was a wall. The other side of the wall is always frightening but it is always a change, and not always good or bad.

I no longer ride bicycles, and to this day, I have to wear tight jeans due to chafing problems.

Yesterday, I turned off my computer after 3,000 hands. I stopped playing feeling like I had to continue. I went to bed feeling like I should keep on playing. I dreamed that I was in a casino, playing poker. There was three of us -- all friends.





[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] [img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] [img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img]

[daveT]

[image][/image]

[daveT]

"Dirty Magic"

I steal blinds.

I raise in the cut-off and am 3-bet. I call and an Ace flops.

Well, I didn't have much of a hand in the first place, so I fold it. He shows his hand KK. Well, did he really think that I had an ace. I don't understand why people like to show there hands. Specifically, they like showing them to me, when they feel that they have bluffed me. Most of the time, they had the best hand anyway. Just because an Ace flopped, doesn't mean that it was because of the Ace that I folded. What are they trying to accomplish by showing me their hand. Are they trying to make me play bad?

This does irritate me. My usual response is "you had the best hand."

This time, my villain took offense. I told him I was just trying to steal the blinds, I had ten eight, yes I was suited. LOL, he said.

Sure enough, the very next orbit, I raise in the Small Blind. He three bets, I cap.

The flop comes down KK8

I bet he raises, I call.

4

I check and call

7

I check and raise.

What did I have?

It doesn't matter really, I know that he had nothing the whole time, the last interaction was fresh on his mind. His Ego got the better of him.

The truth of this game, that few people seem to understand, is that no one really "outplays" any one else. We all are waiting for a good hand to extract bets from each other, it is how he play those hands that define us.

Many people attach Ego to the game, and this is their biggest downfall. Go ahead and keep on running that bluff, go ahead and try to extract money with your middle pair, I hope for your Ego's sake that you catch me on the river. Someone needs to bail you out.

"Execution Day"

Although I have played tons of Full Ring Limit, and 6-max No Limit, nothing could have prepared me for the experience of 6-max Limit. After 13,000 hands, I am still losing 3.5bb/100.

At some point, I have to question my own play, and forget about luck. What makes poker interesting is that it comes with built-in Ego check. No matter how good I am, the ugly downswing is inevitable. This is the constant reminder that I am not the best, that I can improve.

I could have been more prepared for 6-max if I thought to go to the forums and read some archives. How much bankroll do I need? 800 big bets, really? Wow. I read through Mr. Wookie's wonderful stat post. My numbers are in line. I read through the starting hand charts. I am close enough, but I decided to change a few things.

I decided to play 6-max specifically because I was trying to do as a many hands as quickly as possible. Playing at a full ring table is slightly slower. But with the required bankroll and the swings of this game, I cannot see the sense of playing this game any more.

I am already far behind my goal, and the money that I had on Full Tilt is gone, I am now going to play on Poker Stars. Actually, now that I think of it, I never had a winning stretch on Full Tilt.

So it is on to Poker Stars and different games. Perhaps I will transfer more money to Full Tilt, at least they give bonuses and rakeback.

But it like choosing mothers. One gives food the other gives charcoal. Even though the Charcoal is worth more than the food, I do have to eat.

[mithras]

more interesting read then I expected [img]/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img] Keep it up.

[T-God]

GL dave!

You are a [censored] psycho but I hope you do it and I also hope you have enough material to blog regularly. I couldn't do either.

[daveT]

“Fishie”

My first exposure to poker was about two and half years ago. I was in Vegas and caught the free aerial show at the Tropicana. I walked the bridge to the Excalabur, roamed the floor and ended up at the rail of the poker room. One game was going on near the rail, and I watched what the people were doing. Every pot was contested by two players, and old man, who I assume was a local, and a younger man, who was apparently a tourist. The old man would raise, and the tourist would call him down until the river and fold. Once in a while, the tourist would stop and star at the old man, who would pinch his lips into the best poker face he could muster. Without fail, the tourist folded. In the pots that the old man did not play through the end, the woman to his right would play through, repeating the process with the same result. There was another man sitting on his hands. I knew that once he decided to play a hand, everyone else would fold.

At the time, I had no knowledge of poker. I had never heard of Texas Hold'em. I was aware that they showed poker on TV, but that was the beginning and end of my poker knowledge, except for the two times I played five-card draw.

I stayed in Las Vegas for three months. I arrived with a dream of counting cards. I left broke.

“Get it Right”

I landed a nice contract, remodeling an apartment. I am not an easy person to work with, and am not what you would call a good employee, so I worked alone. I am too much of a perfectionist when it comes to building, and it is a very frustrating experience. I was fortunate that the person I was working under had my attitude, and worked for himself. He didn't care about how long I took, just that every thing was perfect. One day, I tore out something I was working on all day.

“Why did you do that?” He asked.

“Because it looked like sh**. I don't do bull sh**. But if you want it, I'll give it to you.”

I won't write what he said, but it was colorful indeed.

Vegas left an impression on me. For one, I picked up a fascination with gambling. I saw the billboards for the various casinos and looked them up on the internet. So, they all spread this poker game. I went to borders and found the gaming section. Two shelves full of this stuff. I remember seeing Super/System 2, thinking what a crock that was. So what if it was an “anticipated sequel.” Sounded like a cheap sell to me. I searched for two hours finding what could be a good beginner's book, picking up Phil Gordon's “Poker, the Real Deal.” Okay, it's not the best one, but it did put me in my place about Super/System, and it described to me this weird game called “Hold'em.”

I then bought Small Stakes Hold'em. “This is not a beginner's book..... but a beginner could start with it, they will have to work harder.” Not to be discouraged, I dived head-long into it, which is pretty much my style in life. I read it a good three times in one week. I was ready.

I took my pay from the contract and informed the guy that I am not working at all on the weekend. On Saturday, I hopped on the 212 and rode it 'til the end: Hollywood Park Casino. My first time was nothing short of frightening. I told myself to relax, but I couldn't get my mind off the money in front of me. Sixty dollars was a lot of money to me back then. I took a deep breath and told the dealer that I never played, and this is my first time.

“I know,” she said with a smile and a wink. Was it my shaking hands that gave it away?

But I was prepared, I played nice and tight, like the book said. Three orbits go by and I pick up pocket Queens. This is my time! I thought. I am going to crush this table, just like Miller said I would. A player raised under the gun, a player called two cold, I re-raised (the book told me to, you see) and the other player capped the betting. The squirrel in the middle called the two cold. The flop came 668. The first player fired a bet into me. The squirrel called. I was scared that the squirrel hit the six and folded. The first player took the pot with Jacks.

As they say if you can't spot the fish, then it is you. I left that day broke 57 bucks. Busted in less than two hours, and I was planning on playing all weekend.

Three days later, after reviewing the book (I had acquired experience, you see) I was back at Hollywood Park, sitting at the 2/4 game again. Once again, I couldn't figure out who was playing poorly, but I did sit on my hands for over an hour and finally looked down at two red 2's. Fundamentally speaking, no one can mess this one up. The flop came all diamonds. Excellent, I need one card to catch my flush. I rivered the last diamond and was now heads up. Now, according to Miller, I should play my flushes aggressively. Maybe my opponent felt sorry for me, after about five raises he simply called and I proudly tabled my flush.

Day three at the Hollywood Park did not go much better. Same game, same table, same result. I had now played a total of 10 hours, was stuck a clean $200, and had yet to win a hand. Damn my luck.

After five more reads, things started clicking, sort of. I still couldn't remember the hand charts, and played entirely too tight. I forgot which hands I should play, so I stayed with suited broadways and pocket pairs. My longest folding session was 81/2 hours.

I still sweat when I see pocket eights. On my 5th and 6th day of playing, I had these boards.

8TTTK, 8KK3J, 8TTQA, 8TT27.

The last was very painful, because two people chopped the pot with “Doyle Brunson.” Glad they capped the betting on all streets. I lost every one of these hands. It wasn't until recently that I finally looked down at 88 and put my money in, open limping near the button in a No Limit game. I don't remember the hole flop, but I do remember seeing two snowmen. I didn't get much of a pot, but hey at least I finally won with them. The irony is that on-line, they are my biggest winners short of Aces. Sweat Relief.

The building project was over, I worked a few odd jobs and played poker on my time off. I was hooked.

“Happiness Is a Warm Gun.”

I was on a hot streak. Hurricane Katrina just happened and I was working at FEMA, taking phone calls. I had also just landed a great deal at a casino, where I was paid as a silent prop, which allowed me to play when I wanted, and got paid, but not as much as a real prop.

At the end of the FEMA job, I was fat, well rolled, and the best thing that ever walked this earth for one week, that is. I learned a valuable lesson: that the books will take you to the point that you no longer have use for them. After so much experience, you can re-read and find a gaping whole in your game. In one quick line, I discovered a huge leak in my game. How did I miss this after so many reads?

Whatever the result, I was now busted again, after losing for 12 days in a row. I scraped together one last buy-in and had a wonderful run for the next three months. This has been the theme of my entire career. I am always one buy-in away from properly rolled.

The casino was ran by one of the most important people I ever met in my life. Craig was the kind of guy who seemed rude, but I can honestly say I never heard him say a rude thing. He was an old pro back in the days when California Lowball was the “it” game. He had a friend that was also a pro at the time. He was good enough that he won about 80% of the small buy-in tournaments he played in. We all played No Limit together, and they both taught me so much about the game. They also charged me full price to learn. While I owned the Limit section, I was a fish in No Limit. One day, I walked in and Craig said, “Dave, no longer just a Limit player!” I still smile thinking of those days.

I wish I could say that I never “looked back,” but I self-destructed. The money was getting too much to handle. I got a hair-cut one day, and tipped the guy 60 dollars. I was eating sushi every day, I was playing far beyond my head. Going back to the casino to prop was becoming a drag. I was frustrated, because I was far too good for my competition. I couldn't deal with taking poor people's money.

But mostly, I could not convince myself that I deserved anything good in my life. I never understood money, and perhaps that is what allowed me to excel so fast at the game. Perhaps the game destroys us, or perhaps self-destructive people are attracted to the game. I took everything I owned and threw into the trash. I quit playing poker for several months. I snapped. I was gone. No one I knew seemed to notice the impending mental break-down. On Christmas Eve, I went to the Bike and busted my roll. I quit.

Over the next few months, I simply labored my life away. I went to the casino once in a while. I started reading about Matt Matuso, Cindy Violet, Ted Forrest, and Liz Lieu. They all talked about learning to cope with self-destructive tendencies. I could relate. In six months I am in sitting in a doctors office. I needed therapy.

Before moving to Vegas, I was living with a girl named “Lauren.” We were great friends, but living with her for two weeks was enough to dissolve any good feelings. She was a once successful actress. I couldn't understand why she left it all behind. The life, the Dream. She tried to explain the feelings of self-destruction, the guilt, that came with success, but I didn't get it. We were friends because we were both highly self-destructive.

A month ago, I saw her in the neighborhood, walking in opposite directions. She stared at me as I was coming. I must have gave her a ton of pain for her to look at me like that. We didn't talk, but what if I had twisted my head and looked at her as she was by my side? What if I said hello? After asking how she was, and saying I still thought she was wonderful, what would I say?

Perhaps: “I now, finally, understand you.”