Wednesday, October 26, 2005

The Reviews Are In!
Neat freak! ... Going to hell! - Dawn Summers
Mean and funny! - Joaquin “The Rooster” Ochoa
Definitely an asshole! - Matthew DeCoster
So’s your face! - F Train [quote to be updated in the event of a writeup - ed.]
Endearingly chubby! - NY Observer
Friday, September 30, 2005

Once a poker blogger, always a poker blogger
I don’t write about poker as much as I used to, but I still show up in Pauly’s home game reports - hell, I’m the blogger that hooked him up for both the Blue Parrot and the Towne House. That has to be enough to make me eligible for this tournament.
And I guarantee that I’m going to win it.
Love,
Patrick Ewing
Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Bad Beats for a Good Cause
It is hard to delete comments about poker tournaments being played for Hurricane Katrina Relief without feeling like a jerk, but that’s what I did.
One comment that says “Hey there is a tournament at yetanotherpokersite.com for Katrina Relief, would you mind mentioning it?” would have been fine. I don’t after all, post regularly anymore. I might have even mentioned the tournament. A second comment - from the same IP address and using the same email server - that says “Hey, I’ve heard about that tournament! Here are more cool details...” is spam. The IP address has been banned.
If you want to play in a charity poker tournament, Pauly has the goods on tournaments going on at Poker Stars and Full Tilt Poker. (Whoops; the last Full Tilt tourney was on Sunday.)
Thursday, August 25, 2005

Cock-a-doodle-doo
***UGARTE EXCLUSIVE --- MUST CREDIT UGARTE!!! ***
This is only an exclusive until Joaquin posts his recap. (And it’s up. Thanks for all the shout-outs, Joaquin.) It is safe to say he didn’t get the story from me:
Fighting his way through a 70+ person field, Joaquin “The Rooster” Ochoa takes first prize at a freeroll in a SoHo poker room. First prize: a $2300 flat-screen plasma TV.
I bubbled out before the final table, finishing in 11th. For my troubles I won, approximately, a piece of crap. (UPDATE: I’ll post some tourney stuff later, including some more background on some of Joaquin’s more interesting hands.)
Also in attendance, F-Train busted early, which was a +EV move, as I am told he picked up a hundred after sitting down in a post-bustout cash game. Toby lasted a little longer, but was card dead all game and never really had a chance to make a move. We thought Pauly and Derek might come, but they weren’t up to it. After last night, I can’t say that I’m surprised.
Sweating Joaquin was cool as hell. Congratulations, Rooster.
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Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Someone's knocking at my door
I assume all of the other poker bloggers have received an email from “pokerfriend007@yahoo.de” about joining his yahoo group. Does anybody know this guy?
Thursday, February 24, 2005

Ugarte's Poker Grovel #58, or Long Way To Go
At the A.M. tournament last Wednesday, a woman who had been getting lucky calling with nothing and making zero moves decided to make her first move against me. That’s twice in a very short period. Then, on President’s Day I played casino poker for the first time. I was bested by a table playing well beneath me because I got very sloppy at the end and didn’t adjust my game to the players I was up against.
Also, I finally sent easy_wind his bounty for knocking me out of the WPBT.
A.M. tournament
I thought that maybe the fates were with me. I went to Otto’s to perform in their 8PM open mic, but only Matt Taylor and I showed up. The host arrived late and surly. With no audience to perform for and a host that wasn’t interested in hosting, we decided to leave. Matt had a spot at The Duplex, so I tried to sneak myself onto the bill. Nothing doing. So we headed over to the Village Lantern and I tried to sneak on over there. Again, no dice.
But wait… host Steve Rosso came bounding up the stairs to tell me that someone had cancelled and he could put me up last! I had a good set and figured that fate was smiling on me after spending the early part of the evening mocking me. It turns out this was just a set up so it could mock me again. Fate is like that.
Early in the tournament I caught pocket tens on the button. There was only one limper ahead of me, so I raised to 4x the big blind. Both of the blinds called me and asphnxma made some snarky comment about the type of respect my raises get. The flop was ten high and rainbow. The blinds checked and I made a modest bet. The small blind called, but the big blind folded. The turn paired the rags on the board. The small blind bet, I raised him and he called again. The river was a brick and the small blind pushed in his stack. I quickly called. He showed his once-powerful aces and I doubled up with Tens full.
The tournament was mostly uneventful for a while. I was playing aggressively (for me) and was doing a decent job of holding onto my chips. I pushed Paula, a new player at A.M., out of a pot with a big bet on the turn, and she called me a bully. I doubled up through her when she called my bluff bet on the flop with nothing but a gutshot draw. It didn’t come for her and she just shrugged. Paula didn’t care because she was in the middle of a generally unsuccessful attempt to dump her chips. She kept calling from behind and sucking out. It was actually painful to watch. Poker lost over and over and over again.
Meanwhile, asphnxma was getting cold-decked like nothing I’ve ever seen. He got 52o three times in a row. It was in the middle of two orbits of no cards higher than nine, nothing suited and no connected cards. He was shortstacked and just wanted to push, but had nothing. Finally I told him A watched pot never boils. Don’t look at your cards, just push. After a few more shitty hands, that is exactly what he did. I don’t remember his cards, but he tripled up. He doubled through again, courtesy of Paula - still trying to lose. All of a sudden he was sitting on one of the larger stacks when two tables collapsed to one.
When we got down to 6 players, Paula ended up on my immediate right. When I saw AQo, I raised it up. Not surprisingly, Paula called. The flo was T-9-x and Paula checked. Paula hadn’t slowplayed anything all night, I didn’t want to see anymore cards and she had shown a willingness to lay down her cards after the flop. So I pushed. And she called. And turned over T9. I had her outchipped, though, so I had at least one more hand to play.
I was left with 9000 in the SB when the blinds were 6000/12000/1000, so everyone knew that all of my chips were going to be in the pot. Still, there were two other limpers, meaning that I had a chance to quadruple up. The flop was T-7-x, rainbow. asphnxma and the other limper checked and Paula bet into the 1BB side pot, forcing the limpers to fold and grumble about the wisdom of checking it down. I hadn’t looked at my cards yet, so when Paula and I were heads up, I was pleased to see T3. Paula turned over A♥7♥. Wow! I was going to quadruple up ... until Paula went runner-runner for the heart flush and I was gone.
I dropped another $15 in the ring game, mostly on a hand that asphnxma discusses more cogently than I would here. Let’s just say that the guy with aces isn’t a particularly deceptive player and I have no regrets about how I played the hand.
Tropicana
For all of my poker playing over the last two years, I had never played in a casino. I’d played blackjack in AC, Verona and Deadwood, but not poker. When asphnxma and Bkyn Plague decided to head to AC for President’s Day, I figured this would be as good a day as any to make my first trip. Deke decided to join in as well.
I started the day $5 in the hole. We opted to take the 9:30 Academy bus from the Port Authority to the Tropicana, since that is apparently the poker room of choice. (Why not the Borgata? I don’t know. asphnxma?) That meant I had to be on the train before 9. Which, in turn, meant that I would be dragging my fat ass out of a warm bed much earlier than I am used to on a weekend (or, lately, a weekday), so I was bound to be a little confused. I knew as soon as I stepped off the train at 34th Street that I made a mistake. Unwilling to wait for another train, I headed above ground and grabbed a taxi. Like I said, still in New York and already $5 in the hole.
I had two hours to kill, so I read a little fiction, a little non-fiction (to prepare to interview the author) and the introduction to a friend’s draft novel. The bus arrived in AC at 11:45, we were given $17 (in cash!) by the tour operator and headed to the cage. I got cold feet about playing no limit in a cash game (probably because of this), so I put my name on the list for 4/8 and bought in for $200.
The table was ridiculous. No fold ‘em hold ‘em. People were playing ATsC and calling off all the way to the river with nothing but a three card draw. Even with so many people in the pots, I just didn’t feel like there was any way that people were getting the odds to draw the way they did. I lost so much money to people holding 53s or J4s (that one was runner-runner) or similar crap that I almost cried. Early on, I was down $30 and told asphnxma about the table. He said that I had to start playing more suited cards and connectors. It sounded too much like “when in rome” for me to follow his advice, but on reflection he was probably right. Once a tight player, always a tight player. If I never going to improve, of course.
I quickly reversed fortune when I got into a pot with pocket eights. I caught my set on the flop and a boat on the turn and a loose player in the four seat capped the river against me. Sweet. After another hand where I hit my gutshot on the turn (7 way action preflop on a pot I raised with AQ and only one small bet on the flop to call those same seven people. I had the odds here, right?) I was up over $100 and feelin’ fine. Then the flushes started coming for the chasers and I started playing poorly.
I didn’t have breakfast before I left and I didn’t break for lunch. I spent the last two hours with my stomach growling, but unwilling to slow down and have a sandwich. It was a mistake. A combination of bad rivers and ill-advised calls blew off another $230. If didn’t win the last hand of the day (which I played horribly, by the way), I would have lost over $100 playing against a table where I respected only two (maybe three) of my opponents. Instead I lost $99. I guess it could have been worse. Also, it could have been better. Plague finished +$200, Deke about the same.
That is a juicy game. I’ll be back.
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Monday, February 14, 2005

Ugarte's Poker Grovel #57, or Without a Title
A person might think that poker and football are a great combination, like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. That person is wrong. The combination suffers from what I call the Mimosa Paradox. While orange juice and champagne appear to be a winning combination - mimosas are a brunch staple - the combination is an execrable waste of two perfectly fine drinks. Don’t let them fool you: take the Bloody Mary.
Why, then, would I host a poker tournament during the Super Bowl? Because I stopped really caring about football when the Vikings decided to spend December sucking. I didn’t care about the football this year and I’m not the guy who cares about the commercials (that is my friend Jim). So there you have it: a perfect excuse for poker and gluttony. And if something exciting happens in the game, I have TiVo.
As all good home games should, there was a great deal of food. Pizzas arrived on time (a shocker on Super Bowl Sunday). The Wing Wagon had a line out the door, but the only-in-New York Chinese/Mexican takeout hybrid next door had no line at all. And 100 wings were the same price. We had olives, good cheese (thanks Toni!), wine (thanks Helmut and Consuelo!), mini-meatloaf footballs (thanks Sous Chef!), lemon bundt cake (thanks Rebecca!) and more. I was afraid that someone was going to throw up at the table. (Coach has a story about that, which he would be more than happy to tell you. Ask for the short version.)
We started playing at the end of the first half because we knew that if we started watching Paul McCartney’s halftime show we would kill ourselves. My table only seats 9 comfortably, so Brother of Ugarte and Rebecca nobly backed out and joined the other non-players watching the football. The non-poker-players were laughing a lot. Probably on account of all of the wine. The poker table was relatively somber. Probably on account of all the wings.
I should have written earlier. The result of the delay is that I remember very little about the game.
I do remember that the women were far more aggressive early in the tournament than the men. Zinester and Lisa built large stacks early by betting hard after the flop. Lisa’s aggressiveness eventually betrayed her when she overplayed her small aces one too many times. The second-to-last time, however, came at a time when Zinester was busy overplaying an even smaller ace. Also, aggressiveness on the flop is ineffective if one always folds on the river. I’m talking to you, Sous Chef.
Josh and Helmut - two notoriously loose-aggressive players - kept going head-to-head. Helmut kept winning. Eventually Josh was gone.
I busted Chris when he pushed threes into my pocket sixes shortly after running into my QQ with AT. I was busy winning other pots without a showdown so I slowly took the chip lead.
Toni and Cathy were flying under the radar. Surviving without too much combat. Toni routinely overbets the pot by design. When I had a hand I pushed back; usually I didn’t. She never had the aces that I needed to worry about and I don’t recall a showdown.
We soon got down to three players and I had the chip lead over Cathy and Helmut. It wasn’t a very big chip lead. When Cathy laid a bad beat on Helmut to clean him out, I was way behind. The cards were not helpful and I went out in second. That meant in two days I had played in two tournaments. Both times I fell to the women of Kelley Drye & Warren, where I had my first law job. As if I needed another reason to hate that place.
Most people left after the first tournament, but Brother of Ugarte joined Josh, Zinester, Sous Chef, Helmut and me for a second tournament. Again I had the chip lead early, again I blew it. This time I blew it in heads-up play. I bluffed at Josh one too many times and miscalculated the size of my lead very badly.
Two tournaments, two second places. Finishing in second twice wasn’t bad, but I set myself up to win both tournaments and fell short both times. Then again, it could be worse. Hard to complain when you have good company and good food anyway. Especially when you restrained yourself from placing a large bet on the Patriots - and giving the points.
I should, but will not, write about the monthly game at the Churchwarden’s that took place this past Wednesday. For a regular game, it had been somewhat irregular since November so I was relieved that the game didn’t fall apart. The game was as much fun as I have had at a poker table in ages but I can’t convey that on paper. It is my favorite game in the city and I’m glad it is back.
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Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Ugarte's Poker Grovel #56, or Live From New York
The WPBT got me all fired up. I want to play with that crew again ... and soon. But I’m really much more of a live-game player than an online player. I prefer being able to fire jokes and collegial insults in real time. When I have to rely on my fumbling fingers to type a barely-witty apercu before the chat scrolls away, too much is lost.
Also, playing poker with women online just has no jazz. Toby may as well be a 42-year-old machinist with a wife and two kids online. But she is not. Nor are Toni or Julie for that matter. It isn’t that they are just pretty faces, but when the alternative is Pauly, well, you might as well just play online. Also, rooms full of guys love talking about sports. I can and do talk about sports ad nauseum myself, but I really don’t like to do it; having a couple of women in the room usually prevents that from happening (even if—sometimes especially if—they are actually sports fans).
As per usual, I arrived late to the tournament. At the 2:30 scheduled start time, I got a call from Ferrari asking where I was. At the time I was just getting back into my car. I belatedly realized that I had (a) not eaten anything all day and (b) had only $4 in my wallet. A quick stop on 14th St. and 8th avenue to pop into an HSBC and a sandwich shop and I was on my way. It turns out that it is much easier to find parking near the Blue Parrot on Monday nights than it is on Saturday afternoons. I ended up parking four blocks and an avenue away. At least the walk gave me time to finish my sandwich.
When I arrived I was told that I had only been blinded down 150. The table started laughing but I didn’t get the joke. It would have been more effective if I had be told the blind structure first. Instead, first they told me I was down 150 ... second that they were only kidding ... third that the blinds started at 10/20. Ha ha! Without knowing what the starting blinds were I really had no way of knowing if “150” was unreasonable. Anyway, I was only down 30 of my starting stack. (2000? 1500? I didn’t count or ask.) I took over as dealer because I was in the best position to do so (the table at the Parrot is much longer than it is wide). I managed to fumble the cards exactly zero times. asphnxma will never believe me.
Going clockwise around the table (starting on my left) were Mas, Toby, Derek, Toni, Ferrari, Pauly, Coach and Julie. For those counting: barely half of the players at the NYC Poker Blogger Invitational were, in fact, poker bloggers.
I took a few pots down early by being aggressive with my chips. I wasn’t calling, just raising. I became one of a series of people to push back at Ferrari. I was the only person willing to push back at Toni. My tight reputation was getting my raises plenty of respect at the table, so I wasn’t showing down anything. Then my cards went ice cold. I just folded for an eternity and waited for cards.
Pauly was the first to go down, the victim of a vicious one-two punch administered by Julie and Derek. Pauly raised preflop and only Julie stayed in with him. The flop had two Broadway cards and two clubs; Pauly bet the pot. Julie pondered for a bit then said I shouldn’t call but I’m going to. The rarely expressive Pauly’s face broke when the turn was 3♣. He checked the turn and Julie checked back. (I may have the order backwards; I don’t recall where the button was.) The river was a brick and Pauly checked again. This time Julie threw about half the pot into the middle and Pauly, muttering I can’t believe she caught the flush mucked his cards. Julie offered to show her hand if Pauly wanted to see it. Pauly said yes and she turned over a busted gutshot draw. No clubs. No pair. Pauly looked like he got kicked in the stomach, but he took it like a man. Not long after, Pauly reraised Derek all-in. Derek thought about it, looked at his tower of chips (and Pauly’s modest pile) and called, expecting a race. He flipped over AK and Pauly yelped Fuck! and turned over AQ. Brothers they may be, but they sure don’t collude. Pauly, out in 9th place.
A quick aside: I am often told that Brother of Ugarte and I look exactly alike. I don’t see it at all, but since strangers are always asking us if we are twins, I concede that I am wrong. Which brings me to Pauly and Derek. They don’t look exactly alike by any means, but they have the exact same eyes. If you only knew Pauly, hadn’t seen him for a few years and then ran into Derek, you would almost certainly say “Hey Pauly!” (or vice versa).
After Pauly busted out, attention turned to Ferrari as the shortstack at the table. He guaranteed that he would not be the next person out. With the swagger and gamesmanship that made Joe Namath famous, he then did not play another hand until Derek busted out Toby. I’m guessing he mucked aces at least once. He went out shortly after when he pushed with AK. Julie thought about it for a few seconds and then called with KJo. A jack on the flop sent Ferrari to the losers lounge happy with the way he played the hand. Julie blew off his attempt to discuss the wisdom of the call with the equivalent of Cameron Indoor Stadium chanting Scoreboard!
That said, the dominant theme of the day was Julie winning after making questionable calls. Her play on Pauly aside, she was almost always behind when the cards were turned over but she just kept winning. (One exception: Toni went runner-runner against Julie to add a flush to her pocket tens to stay in the game, but Julie never should have called her preflop raise with K6o.) That made the way I went out particularly painful.
Julie wiped out Mas by calling his push with 88 and catching her overcard, so we were down to 5. The blinds had climbed to 150/300. My cold cards had been coming for ages, so I was starting to steal blinds to stay afloat. I pushed with J8s, TT and AQ. I finally had enough that I didn’t have to make every move an all-in. Julie limped UTG. She had been limping all game with a wide range of starting hands. I had AJ and raised to 1000. Derek, Toni and Coach folded and Julie called. Do you hear the warning bells? I didn’t. When the flop came 7 high and Julie checked, I pushed. I figured that if she had a small pocket pair (or just a piece of that raggy flop) she would have to respect my preflop raise and get away from the hand. Based on her prior calls, I was thinking KQ, AT maybe 66… I call Aw crap. AA. I needed running spades or running jacks. When the turn was the not-jack of not-spades, I was drawing dead and out in 5th.
Derek has the rest of the action because he was there to see it. I took a few minutes to cool off and then joined the 2/4 ring game already in progress in the losers lounge. Congratulations to Julie and Toni, who chopped when the heads-up play dragged on for too long. There is also a report from Pauly but Mas and Toby have yet to write anything.
I bought in for $40, sat down and—as is typical of any time I play at the Parrot—I immediately got into a dispute with Ferrari. He wanted me to post in a five-handed game, but waited until after I had been dealt my cards to tell me. I remember playing 2/4 at the Parrot. People came and went from the game back in the day and never had to post. So of course Ferrari accused me of “violating a house rule.” Somehow I managed to refrain from telling him to fuck off. I think. Either way, they relented and two (folded) hands later I was the big blind.
I won a big hand off of Ferrari when I hit top pair with KTs. I had called his preflop raise from the BB and we capped the flop when it came K high. I knew that Ferrari didn’t have the king and I am sure that he didn’t think I had it. I suspect that he had jacks or a decent ace. He called my raise when the board paired 3s on the turn. He check-called on the river when a third three came out. Show me the king, said Ferrari. And I gladly did. Then I went to work on Toby, who didn’t deserve the beats she took.
I was in the big blind with K7s. Ferrari limped (I think) Toby raised and either Pauly or Mas called. Getting at least 5:1, I called as well. The flop was K high again and I check-raised Toby, who called. I immediately put her on a better king and was ready to slow down until I caught my second pair on the turn. I check-raised her again. The river was a brick and I bet out. She called What’s your kicker? My kicker is another pair, I replied. Two hands later I took another big pot off of Toby when I flopped two pair with KT. You are killing me with two pair!
I gave some of it back when I raised Mas’s blind with ATo and the flop missed me. I bet anyway, and he called. We checked the turn (brick) and when he bet the river (brick), I folded face up. Ferrari was shocked that I released a good ace, but I know that Mas defends his blinds like a mama bear with her cubs. He was going to call with ATC. When I explained my thinking, Mas admitted that he paired his 3 on the flop.
I leaked a little more to Ferrari when I made two pair on the flop, but he called and caught his flush on the turn. He says it was the river but he is wrong. Or he is a worse player than I give him credit for because he definitely wasn’t getting the odds to try for runner-runner. Either way, I was foolishly blind to the flush possibility until the fourth diamond hit on the river and it cost me extra bets.
Pauly and Toby burned through two stacks of $40. Mas finished +$22, I was +$23 and Ferrari took the rest of it. I don’t know where he got all of that damn money, because it didn’t look like he was winning many pots. He had a lot of it when I sat down, but he went down and then back up. I’m starting to think he was sneaking chips off of my stack.
I followed up the NYC blogger event with a low-stakes Super Bowl poker tournament at my place, so the poker keeps on coming. That report will be up in a day or two.
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Friday, February 04, 2005

Ugarte's Poker Grovel #55, Grovel 54 v2.0
I am a bad blogger. I have taken a lax attitude towards posting my tourney wrap-up, and for that I am sorry. Mostly because it is probably seriously costing me hits and links. C’est la vie
Anyway, on to the tournament.
I was a late arrival to the table. I had a 7:00 show at The Duplex and decided to stick around after my set to watch some of the other comics. It is both a courteous thing to do and a good way of seeing what is out there. I also met Alex House and chatted with her about Tuesday’s meeting of the New York Comedians Coalition. It is good to see how many comics in the city are supporting the movement.
Anyway, I had the foresight to register in advance so I didn’t get shut out. Just a little blinded off. So, what did I miss before my arrival…
QKo ... 64s (this was the hand that knocked out the first player. lifesagrind went all-in preflop with AKo against DropDHammer‘s AA.) ... 92o ... A6o (I actually won this hand. I was in the big blind and the table folded to me. Inexplicable, actually. By this point it was clear that I was sitting out but larryvq still folded instead of raising me. Some bully! He finished in 19th, though, so maybe I shouldn’t give him too hard a time.) ... A8o ... T3o ... Q2s ... 42o ... KK (Dammit!) ... J3s ... KJo ... 85o ... JTo ... Q9s ... KQs (Dammit!) ... Q2s ... And then I arrived for Q3o. Fold.
It soon became obvious that Trafficant was the table bully. Not only was he raising preflop often, he was berating the table. He decided to pretend that he ended up in the tournament by accident and had his share of anti-blogger comments:
Trafficant: score one for the blog haters
* * *
Trafficant: i hate the internet
* * *
Trafficant: i remember the good old days when clueless ***ks kept their dumb opions to themselves. now they all have poker blogs.
* * *
Trafficant: blogs are like a cowboy hat, sooner or later every ******* gets one
* * *
aboutmattlaw: word is Iggy is out in case folks are interested in that stuff
Trafficant: word is bloggers all suck
Ugarte’s: yawn, trafficant, yawn
Even though I accused him of shining us on, he persisted in his ruse. He persisted even though his reference to “the drunk midget that put the tournament together” blew his cover. He wanted to have fun, though, so there was no point in getting too beligerent in response.
As all of that was going on, I was slowly bleeding away. We were now on Level 3 (25/50) and my cards were awful. It turns out that I had much more playable stuff before I sat down. Between the blinds and a series of missed flops, I was down to 970 and had to make a move. When I got AQo on the button, I raised it to 200. BigSlickNut - who I barely had covered - made a minimum raise to 400. I pushed. He called and turned over Presto! (pocket fives). I caught a king and a ten on the flop and then a jack on the turn to make my broadway straight, (almost) double up and knock out BigSlickNut in 121st. I’m with asphnxma - he really should have pushed those fives. I probably would have called, but the minimum raise was the wrong play with his stack size.
Not much was going on with my play, but I did get a pleasant surprise when stannum50 joined the table, which led to another round of chat:
stannum50: hey ugarte, been reading you for ages, dont take all my chips k?
asphnxma [observer]: ugarte has a reader?
Ugarte’s: you’re the guy?
asphnxma [observer]: who knew!
Trafficant: who the hell is ugarte
asphnxma [observer]: lol
stannum50: yeah, well, i can only read the small words. i write in small words too
Trafficant: what self respecting person would call themself ugarte?
Obviously Trafficant was continuing his ruse, but I have to quibble with one thing: when did I ever say that I was self-respecting. (Also, that plural pronoun was out of place.)
Trafficant then started criticizing everybody’s play. And getting even ruder. This got people fighting back.
Trafficant: now you blogmonkeys are really unlucky. im done with the real tournament. can focus on this low $ piece of crap.
stannum50: dont waste your itme on our account
Ugarte’s: so we are really unlucky because you lost somewhere else?
TNSpaceman: ha
squaptor: nice
aboutmattlaw [observer]: I’m not even playing anymore, and you’re still driving me nuts, Trafficant
stannum50: we arent worth it, really
Trafficant annoyed Artoch so much that he put a knockout bounty on Trafficant: $10 and a half-empty pack of Pall Mall Reds.
By this time I had pissed away half of my chips again and I was down to 800. Push or fold territory. So when I was dealt A♦T♦ in the cutoff, I went over the top of Trafficant’s raise all-in. He had to call, and turned over KQo. The flop had two diamonds but no other help. The turn was a king, leading Trafficant to start cheering for his bounty, but the 9♦ was my money card. Doubled up again.
Soon after, Otis joined the table and sat down as the table’s chip leader. I didn’t make the Vegas trip, so I don’t know as many of the other bloggers as some of my friends do. But CJ and Otis were the first poker bloggers that I found when I googled “poker blog” and the first guys to link me. Now that Otis is doing so well, I am very happy for him. I appreciated this exchange also (even though it went on amidst yet another “poker lesson” from Trafficant after he sucked out on Artoch’s AQ with AT):
OtisBDart: How’s the business of being charles star?
Ugarte’s: not bad. good set before the tournament. set went better than the cards
OtisBDart: good. hope to catch your act someday if i can make to the city
Trafficant finally copped to his identity (because he wanted to email Otis) and that calmed the table down somewhat. He did keep harrassing TNSpaceman about his play, though, which probably made it extra sweet for TNSpaceman (KQs) when he called Trafficant’s all-in (77) and caught a king on the turn. I don’t know if Artoch stuck around long enough for TNSpaceman to collect the Trafficant bounty. Or if TNSpaceman smokes. (Jason and Matt, by the way, have been sniping away at each other on their respective blogs. No love lost between those guys.)
I was bouncing between stealing blinds and getting blinded. I had respect at the table because I was playing tight. If I were smarter I would have stolen more blinds, but I did not. I soon found myself back at 900 and at Level 7 the antes started. I couldn’t afford to pay 25 a hand or get pushed around. So the first thing I did when I sat down was say hi. i’m shortstacked. please don’t raise my blinds. And when I looked across the table, there was CJ—and he had even more chips than Otis. Those guys can play.
I certainly couldn’t afford to have Spock326 moved to my table with a huge stack. Because Spock326 is Signor Ferrari, and I knew that he would be licking his chops at the prospect of chewing up my blinds. That is just what happened, though. He sat down and instantly said bring it ugarte to which I could only reply bring it with what? I stole the blinds from UTG just so I could pay my next round and, as expected, Ferrari raised my big blind. I had K5o - and I probably should have pushed - but I wouldn’t have been able to face Ferrari today at the NYC blogger event (especially in front of Pauly) if he bounced me from the WPBT. K5o wasn’t worth the risk.
I stole blinds twice - with AQo and ATs - but when I pushed with KJo, easy_wind called with ATo and bounced me when neither of us got any help. I placed a bounty on myself in Pauly’s comments section - a comedy album/book to be named - and once I choose it, it will be on its way to Sommerville, Massachusetts. I have to admit that I was disappointed when easy_life went out just a few spots ahead of me. I was hoping he would take my coin farther than that.
I hung around and watched the end of the tournament, but the first thing I saw was Ferrari tilt away his stack. It was a surprise, because Ferrari is a very good player. Between you and me, I think he is a better player than I am - but I don’t think he plays me particularly well. It started with a typical hand - I don’t remember whether Ferrari had QQ or AA - but whichever one he had, he doubled someone up. Even if he was behind, getting all of his chips in was the right play, so whether it was a bad beat or a brutal preflop reveal, it started the downhill slide. A few hands later he raised UTG with 22 only to be called by a shortstack with 88. Those two beats left him well below average, but strong enough to wait for a hand. He didn’t wait, though, and pushed K9s - which didn’t hold up. Like I said - Icarus.
Congratulations to Kid Anonymous who had the greatest run of cards I’ve ever seen when the table got down to three players.
Final finish for the NYC bloggers participating in tonights tournament:
25: Toby
38: Ugarte
62: Pauly
104 Derek
105: Mas (who sent his brother in his place)
114: Coach (He got knocked out right before I went looking for him to sweat his action.)
127: asphnxma (who, tragically, won’t be able to play today)
???: Monte Christo (I don’t know if he even played in the WPBT.)
Joaquin just announced that he has a wedding to go to, so he won’t be at the NYC Invitational. He has been replaced by Toni. Nixma’s seat has been taken by Julie, who has proven herself tournament tough.
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Sunday, January 30, 2005

Ugarte's Poker Grovel #53, or Committed
I certainly took my time, but I finally wrote up last week’s A.M. tournament. I figured that I’d better do it because I have so much poker coming up.
On February 2 Poker Stars is hosting the latest World Poker Blogger Tour event. As I write this, there are 42 bloggers and readers registered to play in this $20+2 tournament. Learn this logo; it will be the next big thing in sportswear:
Is that enough blogger poker? No! Signor Ferrari is hosting the first NYC Poker Bloggers invitational at the Blue Parrot on February 5. I don’t remember the entry fee but there is no juice to the house. This is going to be my first trip back to the Blue Parrot since, um, ... in a long time. I took second at the last tournament at the Parrot but I think the competition will be stiffer - top to bottom - this time.
Anyway, back to last Wednesday.
I showed up late because I wanted to check out Invite Them Up, a weekly Wednesday night show hosted by Eugene Mirman and Bobby Tisdale. It really is a great show. For $5 you get to see some of the best young comics working today. I hope to get booked into this show soon, but the comics they usually get are (a) friends of the hosts and (b) much more experienced than I am. Fingers crossed.
I made it to A.M. just before 11 and bought in late; I had missed two levels so I forfeited 225 of my initial 2000 in missed blinds. And then sat down in the big blind for another 100. I didn’t get cards worth playing for two full orbits - which didn’t stop me from limping in from the SB once ... and throwing away my cards as soon as the flop came down. I was soon down below 1300 without playing a single hand.
The room was freezing - the result of a door left wide open by the smokers - and I had made the ill-thought-out decision to wear a short-sleeved shirt. To the extent that shaking hands is a tell, I was giving out false signals all night. I was knocking over my stacks and fumbling with my bets because I couldn’t feel my fingers and wouldn’t admit to myself that I should just put my coat on indoors. Everyone was affected; the normal reactions just weren’t there. I don’t know if I can translate it to the page, but imagine an all-in hand where the shortstack moves in with AT and gets called by AK.
Now imagine a T on the flop. Then imagine a K on the river to bounce the shortstack.
Now imagine that each of these revelations is met by the table with the same shock/excitement/noise as if someone had announced “I like my pancakes with syrup.”
In any event, I got my stack from 1300 to 3500 by aggressive bets on flops and turns and, when the tournament went from two tables to one, I moved to the final table. asphnxma was already gone. What followed was a pathetic run of bad fortune interrupted by one good hand.
Every time I was in the big blind a short stack moved all-in. Every time it happened I was sitting on a shitty hand. Every time it happened the pot odds demanded that I call the small raise. Every time it happened, the shortstack’s hand held up, doubled up courtesy of yours truly. The only good luck I had at all was - in the middle of paying other people off - having my crabs hold up against AK when I pushed. Nobody pushed with other people in the big blind; somehow it was always my responsibility to make the call and—pot odds be damned—the cards didn’t come through for me once.
Eventually it caught up with me. As the blinds climbed higher and higher, I pushed in with ATs. Sporto, the big stack by a large margin, pushed to isolate with KQo. Strangely, Jed called with his medium stack and A8. The flop brought a king and I busted out in fifth place (and Jed left with me in fourth).
I stuck around to deal the longest head’s up match I’ve ever seen, with Sporto finally knocking out Tiger.
I’ll tell you this: Committed, shmomitted. Fuck pot odds. I’m dumping shitty big blinds next time. Why do I have to be the table cop?
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Wednesday, January 26, 2005

More nice timing
Have you ever wished for a straight flush? Can you think of a worse time to get it than this? Also, take note of how lucky I got on this play:
Ugartes_PG raises (100) to 100
decksdad raises (170) to 170
MRB1957 calls (10) MRB1957 is all-In. (Yes, that is right. He had 10 chips left.) [ Qc Tc ]
Ugartes_PG raises (595) to 695 Ugartes_PG is all-In. [ Ks, Kd ]
decksdad calls (525) [ Ac As ]
[9d, 4s, Jc ] [ Kc ] [ 9c ]
Ugartes_PG net +700 [ Ks Kd ] [ a full house, Kings full of nines—Ks,Kd,Kc,9d,9c ]
decksdad lost 695 [ Ac As ] [ two pairs, aces and nines—Ac,As,Kc,9d,9c ]
MRB1957net +40 [ Qc Tc ] [ a straight flush, king high—Kc,Qc,Jc,Tc,9c ]
A straight flush with your last chip. *Sigh* The A.M. tournament is tonight, so I’ll have some real poker to write about soon.
Francis has some examples of even worse timing. They also have the virtue of being much funnier than this story, although finding either story funny requires a twisted sense of humor and a dark, dark soul.
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Just desserts
Some people just get what they deserve. Should you find yourself on Party Poker with ageorge83, feel free to tell him he is an asshole. You don’t have to do it gratuitously, he will certainly make you want to do so without any prompting from me. The first few orbits were plagued with his criticism of everyone at the table. Comments about stupid calls, stupid folds and anything else he deemed worthy of derision. Essentially any play that wasn’t his own. For instance:
ageorge83: bet 125 just to fold instantly
ageorge83: he is a JOKE
***
ageorge83: thanks for the chips loser
That is what made this so satisfying:
DragonBall07 raises (535) to 535 [ Kh Ah ] (DragonBall07 is all-in)
ageorge83 calls (520) [ Td Ad ]
[ 3s, Kc, Qh ] [ Jh ] [ 3h ]
ageorge83 balance 420, lost 535 [ Td Ad ] [ a straight, ten to ace—Ad,Kc,Qh,Jh,Td ]
DragonBall07 balance 1140, bet 535, collected 1140, net +605 [ Kh Ah ] [ a flush, ace high—Ah,Kh,Qh,Jh,3h ]
Not only did a(hole)george83 lose the pot, he showed an alarming ignorance about the meaning of the simple term “rivered”:
ageorge83: OMY nice river
Ugartes_PG: nice call genius!
usscatdaddy1: you got smoked
arohm: you got served
ageorge83: i got rivered MORON
Ugartes_PG: ????
ageorge83: i hsd the str8 loser
arohm: but you lost
ageorge83: I GOT RIVERED
ageorge83: it happens
ageorge83: MORON
arohm: but you lost
arohm: and you had the worst hand going in
arohm: so you suck
usscatdaddy1: ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha a
arohm: A10 all in great play
The guy was dominated preflop, hit a miracle gutshot on the turn and then bitched when the heart flush hit on the river. That, my friends, is not “getting rivered”; it is “receiving justice”. And nobody had it coming it more than that guy.
FYI: arohm had to take the lead in schooling the idiot in the chat because Zinester was sweating my play. She simultaneously appealed to the better angels of my nature (requesting that I not trash talk) AND reminded me not to tap the glass. I soooo wanted to jump in, though.
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Friday, January 21, 2005

Ugarte's Poker Grovel #52, or Thanks For Nothing
Poker is a crazy game. I spend a lot of time playing, thinking about or whining about poker. Somehow after a year and a half of playing I think I am probably dead even. Even crazier: live poker against players I respect is making up for the money I am losing to the fish online.
I returned to Colorado for another game of mountain poker, I returned to A.M. for a tournament and some baby no-limit ring and I returned to Poker Stars. I’ll try to keep this brief. [UPDATE: No such luck.]
My roommate from law school is from Texas so, as is typical of Texans with means, his parents have a second home in a Colorado ski town. It is beautiful. A log cabin home that should be on a postcard. It sits in an semi-isolated development nestled in a forest of aspens. The rooms are large, the flow is well thought out, the insulation perfect. There is a home theater system with a large plasma flat-screen TV and surroundsound. It is only 10 miles from the mountain. And it has a table large enough to accomodate an 11 person game of hold ‘em.
I took charge of the game and acted as the dealer. This seemed like the right thing to do since I had to explain how “blinds” and “the button” worked to most of the table. No worries; these guys were all sharp and I didn’t have to explain anything more than once. The only concept they never really seemed to understand was “to call a bluff, you probably need an actual hand yourself.” The highlight of the night for me was when one player, holding pocket fours, called an all-in bet on a board of K-J-8-6-5 ... and won the hand from a player holding A7. I knew he was bluffing!, claimed the caller, apparently not aware that bluffing in that scenario easily could have meant, say, Q5. It was a pretty soft table but I couldn’t really take advantage of it.
I tried. I reviewed the cards at showdown forlornly. Almost all of the pots were limped and I repeatedly had to stare at my cards in the muck as I watched two pair come on the flop or a straight come on a cheaply-seen turn. I watched Brother of Ugarte dominate the table as he saw most flops and got handsomely paid when he connected. Once in a pot, these fellows were tough to chase out. Still, I played my usual tight game to my own detriment. Once a scorpion, always a scorpion, I guess. I finished the first day up $12 (on a $10 buy-in). I finished the second day up an additional $7. It could have been so much more; Brother of Ugarte turned his first $10 into an astonishing $80.
When I returned to New York I saw that there was a blogger tournament coming up on Poker Stars so I fired up Stars to check my balance. $4.13. Not enough to play a single SNG. I suddenly remembered why I hadn’t played at Stars in so long. So I sat down at a .02/.04 limit table just to screw around. After winning 10 big bets on the first hand I played, I proceeded to turn my $2 buyin to $1.46 in no time at all. What the hell happened to my limit game? I know that microlimit tables are sort of a joke because nobody folds, but that is why I should be killing the table. Somehow the joke ended up on me because I wasn’t folding either. Can’t do that anymore. It cripples the confidence without imparting any worthwhile lessons. “Stop being a sucker” is more of a life lesson than a poker lesson and I don’t need life lessons from a poker table with a $2 buyin. Anyway, I’ve reloaded the account and I’ll see you suckers on February 2.
On Wednesday I played a lot of poker. After a good 10 minute set at Otto’s Shrunken Head, I headed over to A.M. for the weekly tournament. Prior to the tournament, I received the following message from asphnxma: Happy Birthday, dickhead! I’ll let you steal my blinds ONCE tomorrow night in celebration. So I had that goin’ for me, which was nice. Unfortunately I spent my entire (brief) stay in the tournament on Nixma’s left. So he kept stealing my blinds. Happy fucking birthday to me.
I didn’t play poorly, but I didn’t play well either. In any event, nothing worked out. There were only 12 players willing to brave the bone-chilling cold, so we started six-handed at two tables. When the action came to me (at 25/50) with a raise to 150 from the notoriously aggresive Chief, I reraised to 400. I figured Chief for a baby ace, so when he called and caught an A on the flop, I got away from the hand. I knew a reraise wouldn’t do any good here. He had me figured for pocket paint and was disappointed to get nothing after the flop.
He got me again later when he played 5♦ 3♦ in a limped pot and caught two pair on the turn. I was forced to bet my A♣8♣ when I saw a flop of A♠-3♠-2♦ and got nervous when Chief check-called. His penchant for playing baby aces is well known and I was worried that I was looking at 2 pair already. I foolishly called his underbet on the turn (a 5, giving him the 2 pair I was already worried that he had). He checked the river and I got away without investing any more money, but it wasn’t my greatest play. A bet on the river (Q) may have won me the hand, but I played scared and lost.
My tournament ended sadly when, with only 625 of my starting 2000 remaining, I pushed A2s from the big blind (at 50/100). Nixma, who had limped from the small blind, said Happy Birthday. This is a loose call. And exposed A3s! Jerk. An ace on the flop meant we would almost certainly chop ... unless I get my three on the river ... and there it is. Thanks again for the birthday present, Nix. Remind me to give you a steaming turd at your next natal day.
I stuck around to play .25/.50 NL ring with Tiger, the late-arriving Moug, Finkelstein (the host of my R Bar shows) and Jay. This was a great home game simulation because we were laughing a lot and tossing chips around. The play was smart without being serious. Two hands and I’ll be on my way.
JJ in the big blind. Tiger raised from the cutoff to $1.50 and Moug and I called. The flop was J-7-6. I bet $2; Tiger called, but Moug folded. The turn was another 6. I think I raised Tiger and he folded. For some reason I showed my jacks. Moug breathed a huge sigh of relief and showed his 76s You would have had my stack! He would have been happy to go home with that thought, but Tiger went rabbit hunting and turned over the case six on the now-hypothetical river. I think Moug is still crying.
On the last hand of the night, I was dealt K♦7♦ in the big blind. Tiger and Moug called blind because it was the last hand of the night. The flop was A♦-J-x and the action checked to Tiger, who fired $1.50 into the pot.
Moug: Are you still playing blind?
Tiger: Yes.
Ugarte: Fuck it. I’ll call against a random hand.
After I checked the turn (another diamond), Tiger looked at his cards. When I asked why he was looking at his cards now, he admitted that he had looked after the flop. In his defense, he believed that he had so obviously looked at his hand that he thought Moug’s question was a joke. He offered to let me take back my bet. When I declined he checked back to me. And let me catch the nut flush on the river. I actually didn’t remember if I had diamonds or hearts, so I checked my hand and bet $2. I decided not to push him because I didn’t want to take his stack after he checked the turn out of guilt. He called with AQ. As a result of that last hand, I finished with $20.25 and a net profit of two bits.
Actually, the best part of the ring game was listening to Nixma try to explain why a player had just won a substanital pot had played the hand poorly. He was getting increasingly frustrated as his analysis - impeccable as always - was met with the last refuge of the stooge: I won the hand, didn’t I? I hope he writes it up, because it was hilarious to listen to, even though I am sure his blood was boiling for a lot of the trip home.
Unwilling to end my poker night on such an unprofitable note, I loaded up Poker Stars and played a couple of $5+.50 SNGs. (By the way, this is a huge advantage over Party where the juice on the $5 SNGs is $1.) I finished in 5th in the first one but won the second after an amazing run of all-ins in the space of 27 hands:
22 beat rrider45’s A9s (up to 2915)
AQo lost to rrider45’s QTs (back to 1225)
KQo steals blinds (up to 1725)
A8o beat JAMT’s J8s (2950)
AJs beat rrider45’s A3s (3980)
AJs beat JAMT’s JTs (6840)
K6o beat jsuds’s check-call with A4o after I pushed a flop of K-5-4 (11420)
After I got heads up with EZEZEZ with a 5:1 chip lead, it was easy. EZEZEZ is possibly the worst heads-up player I’ve ever seen. I just raised preflop every time and slowly bled him away. He won one all in when I raised him all-in with a draw that didn’t come, but I stole his blinds back to his former level and when he finally decided to call another big bet, it was after I had turned the nut straight after he made a minimum bet with top pair on the flop. So I am up on my most recent deposit at Poker Stars. Bully for me.
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Monday, January 10, 2005

Ugarte's Poker Grovel #51, or Doubling Up
I took some time out of the ass-kicking I’ve been taking on the .50/1 limit tables at Party Poker to play some no limit ring with the crew from the A.M. tournament. The host of that tournament, Sporto, and his roommate, The Chief (formerly known as JCatz) host a Sunday night game at their apartment which they dubbed A.M. II.
asphnxma has been thinking a lot about the meaning of home games, and I’ve sent him my thoughts. I won’t steal his thunder by talking about home games generally, but I’m still going to talk about last night’s game at A.M. II because it had all of the elements of a good home game except alcohol.
That’s right, no alcohol. For some reason these guys don’t drink when they play poker. It is pretty amazing, actually, because I get the feeling that under the right circumstances (i.e., any other time) these boys would pound the bottle hard. But if they aren’t drinking, I’m not drinking - which is a pity. Even though it makes the drive home safer.
I showed up at A.M. II at 10:15PM after making a quick stop at R Bar. (More on that in a later post.) Sporto, The Chief, Frogman, Maverick and Combo were there already so we decided to start up with six. Nixma showed up as Sporto was distributing chips. Deke showed up at around midnight. We play .25/.50 NL and typically buy in for $20.
The night was a strange one. I made a commitment to myself that I would stop being such a pussy at the table. I would lay down my hand when I had to but I would play aggressive and strong. Induce folds with real bets at big pots, not just cheap steals of tiny limped pots. Make draws pay real money to come from behind. Loosen up starting hands a little so that my game isn’t so damn predictable. I started on the button. As is true of most of the night, I don’t remember the play. I may have raised preflop. I know that I bet the flop and the turn and the table folded to my bet on the turn. So far, so good.
I picked up a couple more small pots on the first orbit. The button had rotated back to me when I looked down and saw KQo. I joined a few limpers and limped my button. Combos (long story) was on my left in the small blind and he made it $2 to go. All of the limpers threw away their hands and started discussing whether he had nines or tens. I let the table talk get to me and I decided to play my overcards. The flop was Q-J-J and Combos bet $2. I immediately raised him to $7 and he called. Alarm bells should have been going off. The turn was an ace. I had a feeling that Combos didn’t like the card, so when he checked to me, I bet $15. He thought long and hard and pushed. Now I figured that I was beat, but he only had .75 behind my bet so I had to call. He had Kings. I had two outs to a win and four to a chop, but the river was a brick and I found myself down to roughly $6. I saw for myself why asphnxma has dubbed KQo “Kournikova“: looks great, but never wins.
I could have rebought, but I decided that since I played myself into this mess, I’d play myself out of it. It worked. I don’t remember how it worked, but it worked. I built my $6 back up to $23 by playing solid poker, showing down the best hands and getting good folds. The only hand I remember was a push with Q9 on a checked-to-the-river board of T-x-x-x-9 that The Chief called with J9.
While I was riding the rollercoaster, asphnxma was falling off of a cliff. Nix dropped $60 in roughly two hours. That is only two big bets for our high-rolling friend, but losing your stack after rebuying twice is a sign to anyone except The Chief that it is time to leave the table. (And The Chief always makes it back. Unless we are playing Omaha.) His place at the table was soon taken by late addition Stoney who, true to his name, sparked up shortly after his arrival. No alcohol doesn’t mean no vice, after all.
Then I lost it all again. I don’t remember this hand at all. All I know is that I was down to $2.50. That seemed like too deep a hole, so I pulled out another twenty.
After the rebuy, I started playing very well again. I built the $20 to almost $60. I was betting hard and taking people out. I was juicing the pot preflop when I wanted action and hitting my hands. I lost $15 to The Chief when he check-called me on the turn of one hand, but I was able to let it go when he pushed the river because I knew that I was beat.
Then I almost lost it all again. Before I get to me, though, a moment for Stoney. He had a pretty erratic night also. After starting the night up, he found himself down to $6, so he pushed all-in. Chief called him in the dark and doubled him up. With over $100 in front of him, he figured he could fuck around. Two hands later, Stoney pushed again - this time on the flop - and again got a call from The Chief. From $6 to almost $30 in an eyeblink. It took a little while, but about fifteen minutes later it occurred to Chief - after doubling up Tiger - that he was bleeding away all of the money he had spent the night winning and almost all of his blue $5 chips had been distributed all around the table. It didn’t stop him, though. Stoney eventually lost most of his chips and found himself with less than $10 again, so when he got a hand, he pushed again. Chief looked at his hand and said I’m behind, but I’ll call. I’ve got nines. I laughed flicked my big blind into the pot and mucked my cards face up: 9♥6♥. Stoney turned over AQo (black) and Chief turned over his nines, er, 9♦6♦. Chief instantly apologized because he wouldn’t have called an all-in with such junk and winning a hand like that is just wrong. When he spiked a black six on the river, Chief apologized again. And then took down the pot.
After Stoney busted out, we decided to finish the orbit and then break up the game. It was a wild last orbit. Tiger had cashed out (down about a buck) but had been hanging around, hoping that the game would break up and I would give him a ride downtown. We eventually convinced him to sit back down for the last few orbits, so we were five handed (Sporto having decided to retire to his room to play World of Warcraft.)
I became a raising machine. Oddly enough, every hand I raised with was a legit raising hand in a short-handed game. The first time everybody folded. The second, I got callers who folded when I bet the flop, but were sure that I was full of crap. The third hand was a brief interlude where I folded to Chief’s raise, Tiger pushed and lost all of his chips to Chief. (NB: His free ride home just cost him $20.) On the next hand I got screwed by the flop and had to fold my ace. Then it happened again. After screwed by the flop twice, I decided to limp my ATo. The flop had two kings and Deke bet $1. I was pretty sure that I had the best hand, though I shouldn’t have been. Deke often makes small value bets on the flop when he knows he is ahead, hoping for a raise. He got the raise from me on the turn. He bet another dollar when a brick came out and I raised him to $6. He pushed, I let it go and he showed me his king.
Next hand (and the second to last hand of the night): Pocket eights, so I raised to $2.50 to thin the field. No dice. FOUR CALLERS! And the flop had a damn ace (A-6-3♦.) I probably should have bet, but knew that I’d have to shut down if I got callers. (That is more reason to bet. You had position. -ed. Yeah, yeah.) 7♦ on the turn. Deke and Chief checked so fast that I was sure I was being trapped, so I checked again. The river was the T♦ and Deke bet out $5. I said I can’t believe that I’m going to pay you off again, assuming that he figured it was time to bet his ace and made the crying call. He flipped over K♦4♦ for the runner-runner flush that I let him catch for free. Chief said that he checked his small ace, figuring that I’d check-raise him. I had gone from $50 to ~$18 in about six hands.
Last hand of the night. Chief raised to $1.50. I took a peek and saw something I hadn’t seen all night: bullets. So I just pushed all-in. If all I got were the blinds and Chief’s raise, so be it. The fast-and-loose turn the game had taken told me that I was going to get a call. Around the table:
Frogman: Bullshit (muck)
Deke: Let me think about this ... I really want to call, but I’m afraid [Chief] is going to call ... (muck)
Chief: [Banter to draw me out] Call.
He had me on a small pair and was willing to race for my stack on the last hand of the night with KJo. He didn’t get any help, though, so I doubled up to close the night and ended up down only $1.50 for the night. For such a mild finish, you would never guess that a flowchart of my chip count would look like an EKG.
Poker does get the heart racing, though.
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Friday, December 31, 2004

Ugarte's Poker Grovel #50, or Push Harder
I came back from Florida ready to play some poker. Brother of Ugarte picked me up at the airport and we went straight to A.M. for the weekly tournament. I didn’t play much poker (certainly much competitive poker) in Florida, but I thought that I had a handle on my game and could play strong.
I was right, mostly, but it didn’t matter and I ended up playing my most expensive session in a long time.
The biggest hole in my game (and I discover a new one in every session) is my reluctance to push unless I am shortstacked and committed to pushing. It is a good enough strategy for limping to the final table, and it has worked for me in the past. A well timed double-up after making final table in 6th position has pushed me to the cash in one-third of the tournaments I have played at A.M. Still, it is a weak way to play and would get me chewed up against better competition. Timidity can be costly.
My flight got in late, so BOU and I had to drive like crazy to get to the tournament on time. Which we didn’t. But it was still level 1 and there were still enough seats to accomodate us, so we joined in. At this point I lose BOU’s story. We were placed at different tables and one of us didn’t last long enough to be moved.
My first hand at the table generated a laugh. AQo in MP, I raised to 200 (blinds at 25/50). Pretty obnoxious for a first hand, but Group 2 is Group 2, right? Everyone assumed that I was full of shit and hooted at the raise. I got three callers to see a flop of K-x-x. Useless. Victor bet 200 out of the big blind and I let my hand go. More hooting from the table, but a very good laydown. Victor was holding the correct x-x for two pair and, as the rest of the game would indicate, it is almost impossible to knock Victor off of a hand.
I got back above level and more when I got heads-up against asphnxma, who was on my immediate left. I limp-called his raise to 250 with AJs. The flop was Q high. I took a long time before checking, hoping that the delay was enough to cause Nixma to check also but really fearing that I had just lost the hand with my indecision. He checked back to me, unsure of what sort of hand I would (a) limp-call with and (b) not be obligated to bet out the flop. The turn was a blank and I checked again. Nixma went through the same decision making process and decided to check back a second time. The river was a J. No hesitation this time; I fired a big bet (500? 1000?) into the pot. Now Nixma was lost. He claims that I was a carnival of tics when the flop came down: so much so that he figured I caught a monster and was FAKING indecision. Now, with the big bet on the river he wasn’t so sure. So he called with KJ. That loss left him crippled and in need of a quick double-up. I’ll let him tell you about the rest of the hands he played, but I can tell you about one he didn’t.
A few hands later, the table limped to BkynPlague on the button, sitting on my immediate right. He thought about raising, but decided not to, saying [asphnxma] would just push, so I’m not going to play this hand. Thanks, Plague, because otherwise I would have completed my blind and been forced to call Nixma with the crappy cards in front of me. I’m not sure asphnxma is as thankful, though.
I don’t remember the rest of how I built my stack, but (not surprisingly) I do remember how I lost my chips. The table limped to me in the big blind with 94o. Obviously, this is the only circumstance in which I would play this hand, but with a hand like that it is hard to beat a flop of 9-8-5. I fired 200 into the pot. The table folded around to Victor, who called. The turn was another 9. Check-raise time. Victor bet 200 and I immediately bumped it to 700. Victor called. The river? 6. Shit. I know, from the way Victor has been playing (ATC, underbetting the pot, unwise calls) that the only question in my mind is “Did Victor get a pair of sixes or hit his gutshot.” I checked, Victor bet 1000 and I made the crying call. J7o. Forget about the fact that he played JACK-SEVEN OFFSUIT at all. He called the flop and the turn with ONE overcard, no flush possibility and a gutshot draw. Grrr. I got it back from him later, but I lost a lot of ground to the field.
A word about Victor. If you have the opportunity to experience this guy, do it. He is wicked funny. If you see his name on a marquee, stop in. Also, he is a calling station. If you have a chance to play poker against him, definitely do that. Maybe go to a show and invite him to a game after his set.
I busted out of the tournament against BkynPlague in level 3. Plague was once again on the button when the table folded to him (actually, Victor probably limped - he always limped) and he button raised from 150 to 500. I had AQ again and seeing how well Big Chick worked for me on the first hand of the day, I popped him back for another 500. He announced that he had a pair, tried to read me - possibly looking for the tics that asphnxma so helpfully mentioned - and called. The flop was 9-2-2 and I bet another 1000. This puzzled Plague no end, becuase he didn’t see my greens (500) or my stack of whites (25) when he called my preflop bet. Had he realized how much I had behind my raise he would have let his threes go. Now, though, he felt committed to the hand and pushed back all in. As committed as he was, I was even more so. I only had 900 left after my bet, so I called and hoped for help. None came and I was out in ~16th place.
Plague would have let his hand go preflop if I raised him all-in. He almost certainly would have let his hand go post-flop if I pushed all-in. Victor probably would have let his gutshot draw go if I had check-raised him all-in. By trying to have my cake and eat it too, I was letting people catch cards on me when I was strong AND read me for weakness. I had better right this ship and soon. Alas, I didn’t fix the leak that night.
A word about the tics. asphnxma is free to think he has a read on me now. I don’t think the tics are going to do it, though. As far as I can tell, I am all tics whether the flop hits me hard, misses me completely or gives me bottom pair with a runner-runner nut flush draw. I’ve always feared that I was easy to read but my results have always indicated otherwise. The future will tell if asphnxma - or Plague, for that matter, can read me. So far I don’t think I’m bad enough to read. Or good enough to read.
Anyway, after the tournament ended I slid over to the ring game in the Loser’s Lounge. BOU wasn’t playing because the fucker outlasted me. Not only did he outlast me, but from where I was sitting I could see a solid stack of greens in front of him. I like to think that I want Zinester and BOU to do well at these tournaments with me, but seeing that stack in front of my brother made me wicked jealous. My soul is safe because I was still rooting for him.
Ring. There should be more to tell, but the memory is fading fast. I had been playing strong poker and was up a few bucks early, but lost my first buy-in of $20 in a heads-up hand with asphnxma. I had (I believe) either TP or an overpair. He had a more in front of him than I did, so I thought I had a good chance of doubling through since I was pretty sure that my pair was good. I don’t remember all of the betting on the turn, I just remember that I raised him by pushing the last $4 I had back at him. He called and, as I suspected, my pair was good. Then I lost when he hit his gutshot on the river. At first I was really pissed. He had definitely put chips into the pot before the action on the turn and all he had was a gutshot draw! Then Nixma pointed out that he also had 9 flush outs and two overcards. Just one of those hands where both people play it right but one has to lose. Still, I don’t like it when it is me. And if I had pushed before he bet the turn, he may not have had the odds to call. Sigh.
I lost my second stack by failing to push and letting Frogman catch a card on the turn against me. I had an overpair on the flop (9-7-6) against Frogman’s A7 and I didn’t raise enough to knock him off of his middle pair. The turn was an A and I was too stupid to let my hand go. Again, a push on the flop would have won the hand but I was too timid to make the right play.
Still, it was the best night of poker in a while. The UCB game is full of guys who can really generate laughter and who appreciate a smart joke. It is really my element. Nixma is having second thoughts about the tournament because it is simultaneously (my words, not his) largely beneath his skill level and sort of a crapshoot. I expect it is worth it for him to keep coming back, though, becuase the ring game is usually so much fun. He said that he would write about his ambivalence himself, and I hope he does. Look for it over on his blog.
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