Where peace is not a pie ...Rick's Cafe Americain

Helmut’s games are of a far different tenor than Ferrari’s.  The poker is less serious, the game more social.  In fact, the motto of Helmut’s Games should be “come for the food, stay for the inexperienced poker players,” and Friday was no exception.  In addition to Helmut, Ferrari, Rick and myself, the Friday game included Brother of Ugarte and Helmut’s girlfriend, Sous Chef.  But more importantly, Friday’s game marked the return from South Africa of Heidi, the champion from The Tournament and her friend Jon.  I have been waiting for this opportunity for some time, since she was apparently awful in the ring game I didn’t attend, and she got me so mad at The Tournament that I was out for blood.

Hey, is that my blood? More on that in a moment.

And did I mention that there is good food?  Helmut and Sous Chef whipped up make-your-nose-run-holy-shit-that-is-fucking-hot jambalaya and a very creative salad and provided a variety of beers and whiskeys.  Back to poker.

I remember two hands clearly.  First, an uncharacteristically awful play from Ferrari.  I think Ferrari raised preflop with AQ (don’t remember if it was suited, and it doesn’t matter for the hand). Heidi bet out (raised?) when the flop fell K-9-x.  And then there was a K on the turn.  And a 9 on the river.  And still Ferrari called her to the end.  To the sound of a shreik like a car alarm, Heidi turned over Fido, proving that she was just as classy as ever.  Still, two full houses is a pretty nice hand.

After the game Ferrari insisted that he won more money on the hand before it than he lost to the Two Family House, but I can’t say that I remember that.  I also remember the hand being more expensive than he recalls.  Doesn’t matter.  He can rationalize all he wants, but when a second king hit on the turn, he should have been long gone and I think he knows this.

Second hand:  Seven card stud. I called an early, but very small raise with an ace in the hole. Was it a mistake? Yes. The mistakes got bigger.  I ended up in a raising war with Jon (who was showing AK) when I paired up my ace on 4th street.  I got a 6 on 5th street, which is unremarkable except for the fact that I had a 6 in the hole as well.  (Did I mention that Heidi was just calling all along?  I should have.  She had a pair of 4s showing.) 6th street was seemingly uneventful for everyone, though I will mention (for foreshadowing purposes only) that Heidi was dealt a J.  If you are paying attention you will be a) horrified and b) not surprised when you find out that Jon and I capped the betting again, with Heidi unobtrusively calling all the way.  For my final hole card I was dealt an 8.  This would have been totally unhelpful until the hand quickly became something like that stupid parable about the horse.  I first found out that I didn’t have Aces up because my second hole card was a 5, not a 6. Bad news.  But the 8, combined with the 7 and 4 that I didn’t even describe in the recap because they seemed like blanks at the time gave me an I-don’t-deserve-to-be-this-lucky straight. Good news!  And then as I was raking up the chips, assuming that Heidi had mucked, someone pointed out that she just flipped over her first two hole cards: J4 which, if you have been paying attention, gave her 4s full of jacks. Very, very bad news!  That’s life, I guess. That hand cost me $50 and forced me to rebuy.  And with that big pot, Heidi cashed in her chips and left the game up $140 in about an hour and a half of low-stakes play.

She played very well in her short time at the table, using a fake-confused act to full advantage but continuing her horrible sportsmanship.  I leave it to Elton John to sum up Heidi’s appearance at the game:

I?m a bitch, I?m a bitch
Oh the bitch is back
Stone cold sober as a matter of fact
I can bitch, I can bitch
`cause I?m better than you
It?s the way that I move
The things that I do

I might be a little bitter.  (Of course I don’t actually think she is better than me - which might prove more than I realize - and I want to sit down with her again.)

As for the rest of the night, let’s just say that Brother of Ugarte needs to read a bit about Omaha starting hands and strategy and Sous Chef has to become comfortable with folding hands that don’t work out.  Despite my early setback, I killed the table after the rebuy and ended up the big non-Heidi winner.  Unfortunately I waited too long for this write-up.  I don’t remember the wins and can’t report on them. The only reason I remember the losses is that I still see the scars and they remind me.

Tote board:

Heidi +$138.25
Ugarte +$76.50
Rick +$39.50
Ferrari +$10.25
Jon -$6
Brother of Ugarte -$58.50
Helmut/Sous Chef -$198

***½ A very good movie.  Doesn’t have quite the “oomph” to get four stars, but is highly recommended.  From 2003, Capturing the Friedmans would probably fall into this category.  Old movies would include Return of the Jedi, Indian Jones and the Last Crusade, Batman, Clerks, The Matrix, Black Hawk Down, Caddyshack.

*** A good movie; an enjoyable movie.  Recommended, but not a must see.  Lost in Translation, Master and Commander, Bad Santa, Elf, X-Men and X-2.

**½ A decent to good movie.  Could be the type of movie that has some strong, perhaps even very strong, points, but doesn’t sustain itself all the way through.  Probably worth seeing if the movie is your “type,” but probably not if it isn’t.  I’ll probably put a lot of movies into this category, since I tend to avoid movies that suck, but am not easily impressed.  21 Grams, Mystic River, The Dreamers, Big Fish, Finding Nemo, Last Samurai.

** An average movie.  It won’t be painful to watch, is moderately enjoyable and, in the right context, can be a good experience.  Decent formula movies go here.  Decent movies with something “original” get **½ stars.  Rounders, Pirates of the Caribbean, Matrix ReLoaded.

*½ A weak movie that does not offend.  Or possibly an ok movie that, nevertheless, sets back the movie making industry.  Demonlover, most Adam Sandler movies, The Mummy.  I have not seen it, but from what I have heard, I suspect the Passion falls here.

* A bad movie.  A movie you should stay away from.  Might have a few minutes of real drama or humor, but as a whole is garbage.  Matrix Revolutions.

½ A worthless piece of harmless crap lacking in redeeming qualities.  Any movie with Pauly Shore in it.

No Stars A worthless piece of crap that sets back the movie making industry and the pursuit of art.  Batman and Robin.

***½ A very good movie.  Doesn’t have quite the “oomph” to get four stars, but is highly recommended.  From 2003, Capturing the Friedmans would probably fall into this category.  Old movies would include Return of the Jedi, Indian Jones and the Last Crusade, Batman, Clerks, The Matrix, Black Hawk Down, Caddyshack.

*** A good movie; an enjoyable movie.  Recommended, but not a must see.  Lost in Translation, Master and Commander, Bad Santa, Elf, X-Men and X-2.

**½ A decent to good movie.  Could be the type of movie that has some strong, perhaps even very strong, points, but doesn’t sustain itself all the way through.  Probably worth seeing if the movie is your “type,” but probably not if it isn’t.  I’ll probably put a lot of movies into this category, since I tend to avoid movies that suck, but am not easily impressed.  21 Grams, Mystic River, The Dreamers, Big Fish, Finding Nemo, Last Samurai.

** An average movie.  It won’t be painful to watch, is moderately enjoyable and, in the right context, can be a good experience.  Decent formula movies go here.  Decent movies with something “original” get **½ stars.  Rounders, Pirates of the Caribbean, Matrix ReLoaded.

*½ A weak movie that does not offend.  Or possibly an ok movie that, nevertheless, sets back the movie making industry.  Demonlover, most Adam Sandler movies, The Mummy.  I have not seen it, but from what I have heard, I suspect the Passion falls here.

* A bad movie.  A movie you should stay away from.  Might have a few minutes of real drama or humor, but as a whole is garbage.  Matrix Revolutions.

½ A worthless piece of harmless crap lacking in redeeming qualities.  Any movie with Pauly Shore in it.

No Stars A worthless piece of crap that sets back the movie making industry and the pursuit of art.  Batman and Robin.

So . . . is Mike McDermott (Matt Damon) gay?  Let’s examine the evidence.  First, we never see him get it on with Gretchen Mol.  Now, admittedly, she appears to be a high maintenance, controlling, “I take law school way to seriously” type.  But still, she’s kind of cute.  Sure, there is a scene where Mike kind of indicates that he wants some action, but he doesn’t try very hard.  And remember that line about the first time he has felt alive since he got cracked was sitting at a poker table?  She sure thought it meant something – and it wasn’t that she was making the earth move for him.  Then, after Gretchen Mol moves out, Famke Jenssen shows up in a short skirt, collects a $1000 from Matt and then makes her intentions quite clear.  Matt turns her down cold.  Rick said “now that’s discipline.” No, discipline is laying down top two pair when you know you are drawing against a straight.  Turning down a roll with Famke Jenssen after your girlfriend leaves you is a sign of something else.  Finally, at the end of the movie, Mike gets a little too excited over Teddy KGB’s butt fucking taunting. Verdict – playing for the other team.

Will Mike get cracked in Vegas?  Again, let’s examine the evidence.  First, Mike decides he “belongs” because he bluffed Johnny Chan out of a hand at a $300/600 table and then ran away with his winnings.  Well whoop de damn doo!  Johnny Chan is a world champion.  He sits down at a high stakes table where a bunch of rich guys are happy to lose money to him to say they played with Johnny Chan.  But there is this guy at the other end of the table, with a look of a poker player, who sits there for an hour not playing a hand.  Then this guy raises Johnny and confidently re-raises after Johnny bets back in to him.  Johnny knows what’s going on, either this guy has been sitting there for an hour waiting for a monster hand, finally got it and is looking to get paid; or he has been sitting there for an hour waiting for a monster hand, hasn’t gotten it, but is willing to say fuck it and see if he can try and bluff Johnny Chan.  You know why Johnny Chan is a world champion?  Because he is not going to get into a pissing contest to find out.  Congratulations Mike.  You are good enough that a world champion cannot get a complete read on you and see right through you after you have been sitting at a table for an hour not playing hands.  Yeah, you belong.

Second, let’s look at Mike’s first loss to Teddy KGB.  First, you are simply a dimwit, even if your name is Stu Unger, if you buy into a no limit game with your entire stake.  No matter how good you are, you have to be able to ride the swings.  Hard to do if you put your entire stake on the line (unless you only go all in with the stone cold nuts, which would limit your play a fair bit, especially when the pros figure out that is what you are doing).  Second, Mike thought he was setting a trap with the second best possible hand and got fucked because KGB happened to have the best possible hand and Mike inadvertently played right into it.  Is that a sign that you don’t know what you are doing?  No.  Unless, of course, you have risked your entire stake on one sitting of no limit and now you just lost it.  Mike’s crisis of doubt over his play (rather than stupidly risking all of his High Society) indicates he may not be able to handle swings all that well.

Now let’s consider the film’s climatic ending.  Has Mike learned anything?  No.  A little taunting by KGB and Mike is on tilt ready to risk everything after he already saved his ass.  So he figures out how to crack KGB.  Well whoop de damn doo!  KGB has all the markings of a bully who is pretty damn good, but he’s not ready for prime time.  Think KGB would let Johnny Chan into his establishment?  Hell no!  His tell was fucking obvious and what the hell was that play at the end?!?  Ok, flop comes with a possible straight.  Guy checks, you bet, he calls.  You put him on a draw.  Turn card comes, no help.  He checks, you bet the pot, he calls.  River card, no help.  He checks.  You bet the pot?!?  Why the fuck would you do that?  If you were correct and he was on a draw, he folds and you only get what was in the pot (same as if you checked, assuming you actually had something).  And if he was slow playing you the whole way?  You get fucked in the ass, nice and slow.  Only way KGB’s final bet makes sense is if he was bluffing the whole way, or only had a pair and was worried that Mike was not on a draw but had low two pair or something.  In which case he is still probably fucked because if Mike was just calling with two pair the whole way, thinking you were bluffing, why would he fold now?  Also, Ugarte pointed out to me that the KGB’s reference to “check, check, check” may have implied that Mike had been setting KGB up by checking and calling hands to the river all night, only to fold.  Two problems with that theory though.  One, Mike probably didn’t have enough money to do that.  Two, you are still a stupid ass if you bet all in there, because sooner or later he’ll actually be doing that with something and call you for all your money.

Finally, how does the movie end?  Mike is on his way to Vegas dreaming of winning the World Series of poker.  Verdict – Mike is going to get cracked.  He could probably grind out a good living in Vegas, but he is going to shoot for the moon and get his ass handed to him by the real pros.

Back to KGB.  He probably still made money losing to Mike, because the word is going to get around and players not as good as Mike will probably come gamble with him, thinking they can crack him to. 

Finally, why was Grandma (billed simply as Russian Thug on IMDB) so pissed that Mike lost?  He gets his money either way – actually, he probably doesn’t, because if Mike loses then he gets bupkis (depending on what his arrangement with KGB was).  Ugarte thinks he just wanted to break some more heads.  Maybe.

So . . . is Mike McDermott (Matt Damon) gay?  Let’s examine the evidence.  First, we never see him get it on with Gretchen Mol.  Now, admittedly, she appears to be a high maintenance, controlling, “I take law school way to seriously” type.  But still, she’s kind of cute.  Sure, there is a scene where Mike kind of indicates that he wants some action, but he doesn’t try very hard.  And remember that line about the first time he has felt alive since he got cracked was sitting at a poker table?  She sure thought it meant something – and it wasn’t that she was making the earth move for him.  Then, after Gretchen Mol moves out, Famke Jenssen shows up in a short skirt, collects a $1000 from Matt and then makes her intentions quite clear.  Matt turns her down cold.  Rick said “now that’s discipline.” No, discipline is laying down top two pair when you know you are drawing against a straight.  Turning down a roll with Famke Jenssen after your girlfriend leaves you is a sign of something else.  Finally, at the end of the movie, Mike gets a little too excited over Teddy KGB’s butt fucking taunting. Verdict – playing for the other team.

Will Mike get cracked in Vegas?  Again, let’s examine the evidence.  First, Mike decides he “belongs” because he bluffed Johnny Chan out of a hand at a $300/600 table and then ran away with his winnings.  Well whoop de damn doo!  Johnny Chan is a world champion.  He sits down at a high stakes table where a bunch of rich guys are happy to lose money to him to say they played with Johnny Chan.  But there is this guy at the other end of the table, with a look of a poker player, who sits there for an hour not playing a hand.  Then this guy raises Johnny and confidently re-raises after Johnny bets back in to him.  Johnny knows what’s going on, either this guy has been sitting there for an hour waiting for a monster hand, finally got it and is looking to get paid; or he has been sitting there for an hour waiting for a monster hand, hasn’t gotten it, but is willing to say fuck it and see if he can try and bluff Johnny Chan.  You know why Johnny Chan is a world champion?  Because he is not going to get into a pissing contest to find out.  Congratulations Mike.  You are good enough that a world champion cannot get a complete read on you and see right through you after you have been sitting at a table for an hour not playing hands.  Yeah, you belong.

Second, let’s look at Mike’s first loss to Teddy KGB.  First, you are simply a dimwit, even if your name is Stu Unger, if you buy into a no limit game with your entire stake.  No matter how good you are, you have to be able to ride the swings.  Hard to do if you put your entire stake on the line (unless you only go all in with the stone cold nuts, which would limit your play a fair bit, especially when the pros figure out that is what you are doing).  Second, Mike thought he was setting a trap with the second best possible hand and got fucked because KGB happened to have the best possible hand and Mike inadvertently played right into it.  Is that a sign that you don’t know what you are doing?  No.  Unless, of course, you have risked your entire stake on one sitting of no limit and now you just lost it.  Mike’s crisis of doubt over his play (rather than stupidly risking all of his High Society) indicates he may not be able to handle swings all that well.

Now let’s consider the film’s climatic ending.  Has Mike learned anything?  No.  A little taunting by KGB and Mike is on tilt ready to risk everything after he already saved his ass.  So he figures out how to crack KGB.  Well whoop de damn doo!  KGB has all the markings of a bully who is pretty damn good, but he’s not ready for prime time.  Think KGB would let Johnny Chan into his establishment?  Hell no!  His tell was fucking obvious and what the hell was that play at the end?!?  Ok, flop comes with a possible straight.  Guy checks, you bet, he calls.  You put him on a draw.  Turn card comes, no help.  He checks, you bet the pot, he calls.  River card, no help.  He checks.  You bet the pot?!?  Why the fuck would you do that?  If you were correct and he was on a draw, he folds and you only get what was in the pot (same as if you checked, assuming you actually had something).  And if he was slow playing you the whole way?  You get fucked in the ass, nice and slow.  Only way KGB’s final bet makes sense is if he was bluffing the whole way, or only had a pair and was worried that Mike was not on a draw but had low two pair or something.  In which case he is still probably fucked because if Mike was just calling with two pair the whole way, thinking you were bluffing, why would he fold now?  Also, Ugarte pointed out to me that the KGB’s reference to “check, check, check” may have implied that Mike had been setting KGB up by checking and calling hands to the river all night, only to fold.  Two problems with that theory though.  One, Mike probably didn’t have enough money to do that.  Two, you are still a stupid ass if you bet all in there, because sooner or later he’ll actually be doing that with something and call you for all your money.

Finally, how does the movie end?  Mike is on his way to Vegas dreaming of winning the World Series of poker.  Verdict – Mike is going to get cracked.  He could probably grind out a good living in Vegas, but he is going to shoot for the moon and get his ass handed to him by the real pros.

Back to KGB.  He probably still made money losing to Mike, because the word is going to get around and players not as good as Mike will probably come gamble with him, thinking they can crack him to. 

Finally, why was Grandma (billed simply as Russian Thug on IMDB) so pissed that Mike lost?  He gets his money either way – actually, he probably doesn’t, because if Mike loses then he gets bupkis (depending on what his arrangement with KGB was).  Ugarte thinks he just wanted to break some more heads.  Maybe.

My alma mater, the Pitt Panthers were playing in the quarterfinals of the Big East Tournament at Madison Square Garden today at noon.  I had hoped to make it down there in time to catch the entire game but, alas, work interfered and I was not able to make until only about 10 minutes were left in the game. 

When I finally arrive, there is a line to buy tickets.  Figuring that most people are there to buy advance tickets, I step forward and get the attention of the guy in front of me.

“Excuse me,” I say, “are you here to buy a ticket for the game currently being played?”

“No,” he responds.

“Well, would you mind if I go ahead of you?” I ask.  “There’s only about 10 minutes left in the game.  My Alma Mater, Pitt, is playing and I’d like to catch as much of it as I can.”

He does not respond.  Rather, he just looks at me like I just asked him to step out of line and dance a jig.  After a few awkward moments of silence, I put a sort of exasperated look on my face, mumble “ok” and begin to step back, not feeling in the mood to push the subject.  At this point (did I mention, by the way, that this guy looked a little shady, perhaps a scalper type) he starts chastising me.

“Well, why are you arriving with only 10 minutes to go in the game?” he asks in a sort of neutral, but slightly derogatory way.

I smile.  “I got stuck at work.  But, I wanted to catch the last few minutes of the Pitt game anyway.”

“Why don’t you just watch it on T.V.” he asks in the same tone, waiving his hand at the Garden T.V. monitor (which is showing St. Joe’s v. Xavier game, rather than the game being played in the Garden).

“Well, that isn’t the game on the monitor and I wanted to support Pitt in person.”

“What are you”, he asks, “some kind of Pitt fan?”

I should note at this point that, in addition to my prior references to attending Pitt, I was wearing a t-shirt with the word PITT is huge letters covering my entire chest (which was just about eye level for this somewhat short man).

That was pretty much the end of it.  I said something like “yeah see the t-shirt and I mentioned I went there a few times” and then probably muttered “Jesus” as I stepped back, admirably restraining myself from telling this guy off.

When he did finally make it to the front, I only overheard snippets of his conversation with the clerk, though it didn’t sound like he was making much sense.  He left the window without buying a ticket.

Finally, I make it to the front and, of course, the game is sold out.  Fucking Syracuse fans! (2nd game of a 2 for 1) I caught the last 7 minutes on ESPN2 in my apartment.

My alma mater, the Pitt Panthers were playing in the quarterfinals of the Big East Tournament at Madison Square Garden today at noon.  I had hoped to make it down there in time to catch the entire game but, alas, work interfered and I was not able to make until only about 10 minutes were left in the game. 

When I finally arrive, there is a line to buy tickets.  Figuring that most people are there to buy advance tickets, I step forward and get the attention of the guy in front of me.

“Excuse me,” I say, “are you here to buy a ticket for the game currently being played?”

“No,” he responds.

“Well, would you mind if I go ahead of you?” I ask.  “There’s only about 10 minutes left in the game.  My Alma Mater, Pitt, is playing and I’d like to catch as much of it as I can.”

He does not respond.  Rather, he just looks at me like I just asked him to step out of line and dance a jig.  After a few awkward moments of silence, I put a sort of exasperated look on my face, mumble “ok” and begin to step back, not feeling in the mood to push the subject.  At this point (did I mention, by the way, that this guy looked a little shady, perhaps a scalper type) he starts chastising me.

“Well, why are you arriving with only 10 minutes to go in the game?” he asks in a sort of neutral, but slightly derogatory way.

I smile.  “I got stuck at work.  But, I wanted to catch the last few minutes of the Pitt game anyway.”

“Why don’t you just watch it on T.V.” he asks in the same tone, waiving his hand at the Garden T.V. monitor (which is showing St. Joe’s v. Xavier game, rather than the game being played in the Garden).

“Well, that isn’t the game on the monitor and I wanted to support Pitt in person.”

“What are you”, he asks, “some kind of Pitt fan?”

I should note at this point that, in addition to my prior references to attending Pitt, I was wearing a t-shirt with the word PITT is huge letters covering my entire chest (which was just about eye level for this somewhat short man).

That was pretty much the end of it.  I said something like “yeah see the t-shirt and I mentioned I went there a few times” and then probably muttered “Jesus” as I stepped back, admirably restraining myself from telling this guy off.

When he did finally make it to the front, I only overheard snippets of his conversation with the clerk, though it didn’t sound like he was making much sense.  He left the window without buying a ticket.

Finally, I make it to the front and, of course, the game is sold out.  Fucking Syracuse fans! (2nd game of a 2 for 1) I caught the last 7 minutes on ESPN2 in my apartment.

I didn’t play particularly well.  To be perfectly frank, today was a pretty rough day emotionally. Even though I had been looking forward to the blogger tournament, by the time it came around I wasn’t really in the right mindset for play.  I won a few hands early with position raises and was able to get others to fold, but those small wins only barely kept pace with the money I was losing in blinds and missed flops.  I honestly don’t remember what I had in those hands, except to say that I wasn’t bluffing.  (I know that is not very convincing, but the hands weren’t really memorable, and I don’t feel like combing the hand history.)

I then got a phone call from my mother, which brought up all of the stuff I had been dealing with all day, so after 20 minutes of post-and-fold for the conversation I came back to the table even worse than when I left it.  In addition, I had a stack of ~1400.  After folding for a little while, I finally got a hand that was playable.  I’ll let you decide if the play I made was the right one.  (Hint: I think it wasn’t.)

With no limpers in front of me, I raised my A♦8♦ and was called by Boy Genius (I think) from the BB. The flop was A-T-x rainbow and when gza checked, I bet 500 and got check-raised all-in.  So, should I have called?  Well, I called, and Genius showed me AQo.  All that will help me now is an 8 ... and there it is on the turn. (No queens ... no queens ... no queens ...) And the river isn’t a queen! Its a 10!  And ... and ...

Suddenly Boy Genius and I both have aces and tens, but he’s got me outkicked and kicked out. Tournament over.

Actually, that is much more dramatic than it actually looked because, as I am sure blogs all over have already written, True Poker has some serious problems with the way it handles all-in situations. In fact, within a millisecond of my call the turn and river were on the board, both of our hands were face up, my avatar had turned into a shadow and I had to quickly scan the board and his hand to figure out why I lost.  In fact, I noticed that he had a higher kicker than me before I realized that, had the cards been dealt one at a time, I would have had a moment of elation on the turn before being punched in the gut on the river.

It was a recurring theme: the players go all-in, the cards all appear at once, a winner is declared and the chat fills up with “I looked away ... what did he have?” Even the players in the hand don’t have time to figure out exactly what happened in a hand without the aid of a hand history.  As Rick said to me as we were watching the final table, “The program slowly passes the button around the table, but flips (and cleans up) the cards faster than you can read them.” I didn’t even see the final hand.

Other flaws in the true poker software:

1) The actual laughing when someone types “lol” is annoying.

2) You can’t observe the other tables while you are playing.

3) You can’t play in a ring game while the tournament is going on.

4) The board is very space-inefficient.  There is too much black space around the board, and you can’t change the size of it. It sits in the middle of the screen, so if you want to keep the chat log/play log it has to sit at least partially on top of the play area.

5) The play log doesn’t list the cards that you were holding, nor does it include what other people played at showdown - so you can’t review the hand until you get the hand history.

6) There is no place to type in your bets; to raise you have to use the slider.

Anyway, it is kind of cumbersome, and with the possible exception of blogger tourneys, I think I am done with True Poker.

Some additional comments:

I didn’t see much of Rick’s game because we were at different tables.  I did see the hand he busted out on, though: a stone bluff on the river when he was shortstacked.  Risky move and it backfired.

I got to watch some Pauly, though.  Pauly was at Rick’s table, so I didn’t see him until after I busted.  By the time I got there he had a decent stack, and with a couple of solid wins he moved into the chip lead.  By the time the game moved to the final table, Pauly had a huge chip lead.  He then took his big stack and used it to push people around. He was raising from UTG, late position, the blinds - and he was building a superhuge stack.  Unfortunately you could se it coming - when somebody finally raised Pauly, you could be damn sure that they had a hand you didn’t want to mess with.  Just as I suspeced, Pauly was tilty enough that he didn’t survive very long when StickandMove and Chris Halverson were finally dealt good cards. (On the other hand, third place is nice, so I don’t think I’ll give any more shit to Pauly.)

After the tournament was over I signed on to Bugsy’s Club (who, incidentally, have the best interface I’ve seen) and played a couple of SNGs.  I busted out early and embarrassingly in a 5+.50 NLHE SNG.  I then finished in 2d in a limit Omaha/8 SNG.  Net for the day: -16. Blech.

Congratulations are also in order for Felicia Lee, who finished in 5th and StickAndMove who finished in fourth.

You know, I really thought that Wil Wheaton was going to show up, but I guess he had other plans.

Finally, a big shout out to Iggy for setting this game up.

McCain has said he “would entertain it.” But he also added that “It’s impossible to imagine the Democratic Party seeking a pro-life, free-trading, non-protectionist, deficit hawk.” To be honest with you, other than the pro-life, which the V.P. couldn’t really impact that much, I don’t have a problem with the rest and even though there are plenty of issues I disagree with McCain on, I have always admired his independence.

McCain has said he “would entertain it.” But he also added that “It’s impossible to imagine the Democratic Party seeking a pro-life, free-trading, non-protectionist, deficit hawk.” To be honest with you, other than the pro-life, which the V.P. couldn’t really impact that much, I don’t have a problem with the rest and even though there are plenty of issues I disagree with McCain on, I have always admired his independence.

Ferrari’s Home Game

The action at Ferrari’s is dealer call, with most of the calls either 7-stud with a .25 ante and spread limit .25-5 or a round of 2/4 hold ‘em or Omaha/8 (so that everyone gets the button and everyone pays the blinds).  The buy-in is a cool $100.  Ferrari upped the buy-in for two reasons: (1) he is trying to coax the crew into higher limits (though we are essentially content to keep playing the game we’re playing) and (2) the higher buy-in means less need to rebuy.  Reason #2 didn’t work out so well.

The game had so much action and there were so many swings that there were rebuys all over the place.  Sam and Joel both bought more chips from Pauly.  Helmut bought chips from Ferrari ... who then bought them back from Helmut.  Pauly passed the cash from Sam and Joel over to me when his stack dwindled toward the felt.

I was the first to call, so I called Hold ‘em, feeling it was too early to annoy the table by calling Omaha/8 - a game that only I really like. Ferrari came out of the gate like a madman.  There were only five players for the first deal, and he raised on four of the five hands in the hold ‘em round.  I am pretty sure that he saw the river on each of the first four hands, and may have seen it for the last one.  It is difficult to believe that he had so many raising hands in a row, but he claims otherwise.  I don’t recall that he ever had to show his cards, so I rely on his word that the worst hand he had during that stretch was 99.  I didn’t have to worry about Ferrari’s aggressive play because I saw paint only once in five hands; I just stayed out of his way.

In any event, Ferrari won a few pots early but lost a big one when Pauly called his pre-flop raise with junk but caught a monster flop.  This was the beginning of a long night for Ferrari.  His strong starting hands never developed into anything and Pauly’s loose-aggressive play meant that flops bad for Ferrari were inevitably pro-Pauly.  In short order Ferrari was grumbling about the river and Pauly’s willingness to see a lot of flops and Pauly was almost invisible behind his giant stack of chips. But when Pauly’s contract with the devil expired, I was quick to sign on the dotted line. 

In reality, I just played hold ‘em tight and Omaha tighter.  I bluffed a bit more than I usually do in stud, but I had the up cards to represent strength - and the final down card kept giving me what I was telling the table I had all along.  I also decided to dispense with tactics like slowplaying or check-raising.  There were too many people willing to call to allow anyone to get free cards and I was able to build bigger pots by betting than I could have by trying to trap the rest of the table.

In my absence Rick was taking down the table like a pro, but in my presence he played a lot of the night on tilt.  I don’t think one thing had anything to do with the other, I’m just saying ...  Of course most of Rick’s problems came from two hands where he got sucked out on.  In addition to Pauly’s miracle full house, Joel chased a flush all the way to the last card in a game of 7stud and Rick paid dearly when he caught it.  Of course he also lost a big pot to Pauly when he tried to use four clubs on the board to make a flush in a game of Omaha, so it wasn’t just bad beats for dear Rick.  He took a couple of late pots to keep his losses respectable and actually was never down far enough to need to buy chips.  Not a good night, but one that certainly could have gone far worse.

In any event, I got a lot more action than I usually do.  I have a reputation as a tight player (maybe tight-weak, but at least tight) and so I don’t get flat called very often.  Tonight, though, I was getting paid off left and right.  Pocket 10s became trips on the flop and a boat on the turn; despite my raises, Helmut kept betting into me. In a game of 5stud/hilo/replace, I caught a pair of jacks that, by the time of the declare, was clearly the nut high. My 7♦8♦ flopped 6-9-T and I had callers through the turn.  But I made real money at Pauly’s expense twice.

First, in a game of Anaconda (the “screw your neighbor” version) I was playing eights full of sixes.  This is about as low a hand as I am willing to play in Anaconda because (a) someone always has a full house; (b) people with full houses always call all the way to the end; (c) one of the parts of the full house is usually higher than an 8, making it hard to have any confidence in the hand; and (d) at a capped $20 in betting per round, it can get very expensive to hope for a bluff.  It might have been the case here also, except Pauly made a mistake setting up his hand and was unable to effectively chase me out with his threes full of aces.

Pauly ordered his cards 3-A-3-3-A.  I assume that Pauly was trying to bluff quads.  This is a tough bluff because in a HiLo game, it is inevitable that one of the low hands has the case 3 showing somewhere else on the board.  This was, in fact, the case.  By fourth street it was clear that I had the nuts, but Pauly and I (along with the low) had capped the betting on the second and third rounds and Pauly had committed too much money not to see the river and make sure I wasn’t bluffing.  Big pot for me.  (Of course, I hate Anaconda.  I lost the money to Helmut on the next hand when his wheel beat my A2356 for the low pot.  I also threw away 99944 when Joel bluffed KKKJJ and Rick was bluffing a straight flush - Rick won the hand with a Q flush over Joel’s two pair.)

The second big win was more of a burn, and Pauly deserves credit for taking it well.  I was dealt 2334 in a game of H/L Omaha/8.  An A and a 7 on the flop meant that I was willing to call any bet while hoping for the turn to bring a qualifying low - I had the nuts no matter what the card was.  When the turn was a 6, I jammed the pot and Pauly jammed right back at me.  Helmut came along for the ride through the river. The river was a 5, making a board of A-x-7-6-5 with no flush possibilities.  I split the low with Helmut, who had been wisely (but futilely) hoping that Pauly and I would stop raising one another because getting 1/4 of the pot when only three people are betting is a losing proposition.  Everyone (including me) initially agreed that Pauly had the high with Aces up - until Helmut noticed that the 5 on the river gave me a straight to the 7.  I was so focused on having the nut low that I didn’t even notice that I had an inside straight draw.  Pauly had to turn over a half pot of almost $50.  I’d have felt worse if he hadn’t been trying to win an Omaha hand with two pair, but I have to admit I felt pretty bad about miscalling my hand and ripping away the satisfaction of a win from Pauly. He got me back, though.

Uncharacteristically, I played A2o and even called Pauly’s preflop raise.  In my defense, I thought that Pauly was only raising at me because I accused him of paying the homeless for sex.  The flop was A-x-2 and I bet like crazy, as did Pauly.  I had him pegged for AK or AQ and was thrilled to have caught him.  We capped on the turn and the river and Pauly showed me a pair of bullets.  A kevlar vest won’t prevent the pain when someone fires bullets at you during the showdown.  I was betting my ass off, but I was essentially drawing dead from the flop.  Ouch. But bonus points to Pauly for pulling off the illusion that the preflop raise was “revenge.” It probably doubled the size of the pot.

As good as the night was, it could have been better. The last two hands cost me ~$20.  The table was down to five, so I loosened up and played K3.  I even called on the flop even though it had an A and a Q and I didn’t even pair the 3.  When the turn was similarly useless, I laid the hand down.  On the next hand I finished the bet from the SB with Q♥8♥.  The flop had a Q and I bet the top pair.  Helmut called my bets on the turn and the river (since I was still holding the top pair) and outkicked me with QTo for a modest pot.

At the end of the night I was up $102 and Pauly’s +$9 was the only other positive finish of the night.  I think I am going to keep the good karma going too.  When the cab driver inadvertently passed me a fin instead of a single for my change, I pointed it out and took the right amount of change.  That has to count for something.

Poker Blogs

I have to give a shout-out to The Fat Guy.  The two of us have been going back and forth on weather the Yankees are the apotheosis of evil and whether the Rangers could find their way out of a paper bag with a broadsword.  His current rant on the media’s fetish with the First Amendment while openly hostile to the Second is interesting, even though I am skeptical of the modern reading of the “right to bear arms.” He also blogs about poker, but between the liberals and the Rangers he is being kept pretty busy.

I have to wonder if Suited Trash is ever going to update or if the site has been abandoned.  Her last post is from BEFORE I left for Pakistan two weeks ago.

Thanks to Felicia Lee who sent me a primer on low stakes online SNGs and did me the favor of providing guidelines for tipping the dealer in a casino.

Finally, Iggy has done his usual comprehensive write up of the world of poker.  If I could request one thing of him, though, it would be to do something to set off quoted material from other sources.  Say, with italics or even quotation marks. That is petty, however.  The more important Iggy-related news is that I am now registered for the Second WPBT Tournament at True Poker.

Look out world, here comes Ugarte.  Bring it on, Wil fookin’ Wheaton!!!