Here it is, the night of my home game. I have to say, I'm more than little excited and nervous for 8pm to get here. I'm one of those people that gets nervous every time a Vikings game is about to start, or hell, even for the kick-off of one of my soccer games, and tonight falls in the same line. I'm not sure why I get so nervous, because it's not like we're playing for a lot of money. The night is geared more towards drinking and guaranteed to degenerate into nothing but Fantasy Football smack-talk, rather than serious poker play. Don't get me wrong, nobody wants to lose, but losing $10 isn't going to break anyone's bank.
I think my nerves stem from the fact that I have yet to make a decent showing in one of these home games, and I need to stop looking like a complete tool. I play more than everyone else involved, definitely have more "poker knowledge", yet the end result is that I still fair craptastic at best. Of course, I realize that all of this knowledge that I possess doesn't nesessarily add up to good play, but it should benefit me.
One thing that I do think is funny, though, is that all of the guys from my work think that they've got me figured out. Sure, they know I play fairly tight, but for some reason, they also think that I like to bluff a lot, which I rarely do. Of course, bluffing a lot and playing super tight mix together like oil and water, but they have yet to put that together. It's odd, really, because I can't remember even one
instance where I've bluffed at a pot when they were around. Of course, they don't understand the concept of the "semi-bluff"-which I might do- or the benefit of raising on the button in an unraised pot holding mediocre cards, so maybe they think that these actions are outright bluffs. Who knows?
I wish I could take better notes, a laPauly
, orRichard Brodie
but the instant booze hits my lips, all desire to write leaves my body. Also, nobody cares to hear about how I won T750 with the wheel, while my coworker was holding 78o. Believe me, it'll happen.
Celebrity Poker Showdown:
I didn't catch much of this other than the end. Here's what I have to say;
600! All you had to call was 600! Sure, you held a measly 47o, but you can't call Ms. Dickinson's all-in reraise of 600, and then have no problem calling "only another 3600" on the very next hand? What gives? And all this time, I thought Nascar drivers were supposed to have heart
and balls of steel.
You're just lucky that Phil Gordon didn't pummel you like a tent stake into wet ground. It sure looked like he wanted to. Next time around, when you're in the finals, pull your balls out of your mom's purse and call the 600.
American Poker Championships:
I thought about mushing all my thoughts into a couple, rambling paragraphs, but I think I'll break it down by each piece of the puzzle.
Personally, I appreciate this sort of broadcast over the WPT or WSOP episodes that are being rammed down our throat daily. They're so anticlimatic.
"Oh! It's 9:58pm, Paul Phillips has a 10-1 chip lead, and Dewey Tomko just went all-in. Again. Geez, I hope Dewey can double up! That man-of-a-million-hairstyles is sooooo smarmy. "
Now there's a thought that never crossed my mind while watching the WPT. I like those inbetween, "boring" hands that show both people involved in a pot checking down to the river because they're both afraid of getting reraised by the other person setting a trap. It makes me feel like less of a pansy when I do this.
The lack of the following cliches was greatly appreciated:
"Got his hand caught in the cookie jar"
"He's got fireworks going off inside his head"
"He's running into whitewater..."
I'm not sure it's so much of a cliche, but I hate when Mike Sexton says "Of course, because of the WPT cam, we can see..."
Huh. No, shit? And all this time I thought I could see everyone's cards because my prayers for omnipotence had finally been answered.
Howard Lederer did a great job, in my opinion. He showed nothing but respect for people at the final table, and didn't rip anyone because of their age, or heaven forbid, what they were wearing. Another thing that was appreciated was how he explained everything by "dumbing it down", without making the audience feel dumb. Not that I, personally, needed much schooling on the concept of a "limp"-I know it all too well- but for beginners, he explained these concepts fairly well.
I'd like to talk about the other two commentators, but you know what? I couldn't tell them apart. I couldn't tell when Michael Konik was talking, or when it was...the other guy. I've just started watching the Showdown at the Sands, so I'm not familiar with either of their voices.
Why is everyone on RPG ragging on the man, saying that because of his table manner, he's autistic? I didn't see that at all. I saw a player that was intense and focused on the game, and doing a damn good job of not showing any emotion. I wouldn't call that "austic", I'd call it "damn good play". I also found out that Phil Ivey and I are cut from the same mold. What, you don't believe me? I can't tell you how many times I've been involved in a tournament, caught halfway between last pee break and the next pee break, only to have it impossible to leave the table because it's short-handed or heads-up. In that respect, we're basically the same person!
On a whole, this broadcast, despite it's technical glitches early on, is on the top my "watchable gambling programs" list. World Blackjack Tour being in the basement.
My online play:
I haven't been playing all that much, really, so there's really nothing to report. It's been far too nice outside, and there's too much beer to be drank on a nice patio, to sit inside playing poker. If only I could find a bar that has a patio, and
wireless internet, and I'd be in heaven. Also, I can't fathom the idea of being a the person that can play poker 8 hours a day. Now, this isn't because I don't understand the game, or get bored even. With enough determination, and studying, I think that almost anyone can be a winning player. The thing I don't understand is how people that play every damn day of their lives, for hours on end, can keep their ass from not
hurting. All this sitting makes my ass hurt. The last time I sat this much was in January 2003, when I spent 2 weeks straight, 4+ hours a day, driving around Ireland. And by the end of that trip, my ass hurt
. A lifetime of ass pain is surely not for me, which is a great crime deterrent, I suppose.
My bankroll is a rollercoaster, but not enough to make me question my ability. Variance, all variance. I'm not one to post hand histories, because I know if I made the right move, or not. I don't need someone else to tell me I'm stupid, I already know. There may or may not be a home game report coming sometime tomorrow.