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01.25.09
Matters Commerce-ial
posted by Absinthe | 12:39 AM
Three tournaments into my run at the LAPC and feeling good about it. Today was something of an abomination but at least the conversation was nice, though as usual I was at a loss for words when everyone else at the table started waxing rhapsodical about the wonders of marijuana. (I don’t begrudge anyone the habit; there’s just nothing I can possibly add to conversations on the subject. At least when it’s sports I may have accidentally seen something relevant in the last week.)
There are some changes to the tournaments and their trappings this year, mostly for the better. I’d have said differently fifteen minutes into the first event, when my table – packed with people who by and large showed up early to register – still lacked a dealer, chips or cards, three fairly significant elements of any tournament experience. Was about five minutes from asking for my juice back, at a minimum.
But everything else has been pretty smooth. Breaks have been extended to fifteen minutes, which makes the crush at the bathroom much less tense, and the earlier start time means that the dinner break comes after a reasonable amount of play. Better yet, food vouchers now allow for the possibility of something other than the godforsaken buffet or the daily steam-tray special at the deli – I’ve eaten well every day.
And the blind structures are smoother, since they don’t now double one level after the introduction of the antes. At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about the change – I was used to the old structure and could build a game plan around other people not adapting fast enough – but having played past level 9 a couple of times now I’ll give it a big thumbs up.
F-bomb penalty: not exactly gone, but pretty much nerfed out of relevance. You gots to fuck up bad to get one. This is obviously a good move, as it was way too arbitrary in the past to be remotely fair, but I’ve spent so long training myself not to curse at the table that it’s hard to find my inner sailor.
(Also: Matt Savage is clearly a biologically engineered organism from the future, sent back to ensure the sanctity of poker tournaments. Friendly, charming, approachable, authoritative – gave two guys a one-round collusion penalty on the bubble without the eruption of a shouting match.)
If you’re still reading this, you’re obviously way too interested in poker, so here are some vaguely memorable key hands from the first days’ play:
$335 NLHE
25/50, couple limpers, I limp on the button with AsKs, everyone sees a flop of 743, two spades. Big blind leads for 200, one caller, I say, “self, you have overcards and a flush draw, this seems like a good time for one of those hemi-bluffs you’ve heard so much about,” pop it to 800, BB insta-insta-insta ships for about 1900 more. If he’d waited a little longer I’d have given more thought to folding; he put his chips in so fast I thought a set or flopped straight was unlikely, though there’s a good chance I’m behind. So I called, he had Ac7c for TPTK, I had eleven outs twice instead of fourteen, spade on the river. Yay me. A garrulous fellow I’ve played with before repeatedly calls it a “real Chris Moneymaker call”, a nebulous insult I’m prepared to live with.
I worked my way up to about T7k by having a medium pair hold and taking down some small pots with position bets, then this happens at 100/200: I’m big blind with kings, thirty-five people limp, I raise to something ridiculous like 2000, an early-position limper goes all-in for an equally ridiculous 350 more, thirty-four people fold, I call and he has KQs. Which is an expert move because, you know, if I have 23o and he tables aces I still have to call. Q on flop, another Q on turn. I take the beat with a goodnatured shrug and a wan smile; mentally, of course, I’m hunting down every dog the guy has ever loved and giving them a solid kick to the ear. Because, you know, he looks like a dog person.
The rest of the day is a blur of pushmonkey poker. I win one race, with 99 against KQ, holding up versus a guy who just couldn’t win a hand all-in. Get bounced from table to table. Suck out with 9To against aces, then grind my way back up to about 7k at the dinner break, but that isn’t going to last long at 400/800/100. First hand after the break a fellow shorty who has me barely covered goes all-in UTG, I have 99 and put my stack in. I have reason for optimism when I finally look at his face – he seems downright embarrassed, and the first words out of his mouth are “I’m in so much trouble.” Which he is, having 9dTd, but he flops a flush draw and it comes on the river, a development for which he apologizes profusely.
Two days later, in fact, he tracks me down again to say he’s sorry for the suckout. To which I say no problem, that’s the game, it happens. And truthfully – and it’s probably a good thing that nobody sitting at today’s table believes me when I say this – in his position, with his stack and those blinds, first hand back from the dinner break, everybody still settling in, well, I’d have done the exact same thing with that hand. No apology necessary, sir: in my mind, your dogs remain unkicked.
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Topics: Poker | 3 Comments »
January 29, 2009 at 2:01 AM
February 5, 2009 at 9:48 PM
January 28, 2009 at 7:21 PM
Post title, FTW.