Whenever I would get the ball I had one goal -- the goal line. Anything short of that was failure in my book. I could sneak under somebody and be 50 yards down the field before they noticed and ran me down, but if I didn't get in the end zone I considered that run a failure. In retrospect I realize I was trying to meet impossibly high standards.
I have somewhat the same standards when it comes to fish and poker. If I don't get all their chips, I consider that encounter a failure. Nothing bugs me more than seeing some fish get chewed apart by the other players while I continue to get total junk cards and can reasonably do nothing but fold. One part of my brain says I'm playing smart poker and that there are plenty of other fish in the sea. But some other part smells the blood in the water and desperately wants to get in there and rip off a piece, regardless of whether I'm in position to do so or not.
Tonight I ran into a couple of the wild ones. The ones who keep making ridiculously large bets in spots where it makes little sense. I'm probably being more cautious than I need to be, but unless I'm about 95% sure I'm holding the winner, I'll let them walk with the big bets. (Unless it gets out of hand. Then I'll lower my threshold to about 70%.) I've learned that the safer route to consistent winning sessions is for me to play small(er) ball.
Of course, I'm not above using their tendencies against them, luring them into making the big bet when I've got the nuts. I did that a couple times tonight. Always fun.
I played two sessions tonight with just a short break in between. Between the two I finished
the night up $2.84, bringing the bankroll to almost $48. I'm encouraged by the much better progress I've been making lately. Part of me says this is just an aberration and I'll never be able to maintain this 50BB/100 win rate. But another part says I'm killing this game because I'm playing many levels below my skill and have simply learned how to avoid the traps that exist down here.One hand in particular stands out from tonight. I was heads up with one of the wild ones. He seemed to be a bit smarter than most of them. I had stung him once or twice and he had been largely avoiding me. These tables have a tendency to be very passive pre-flop so I play a lot of connected cards as long as I can see a cheap flop. I call with JTs UTG. Three of us see the flop of J73, two-suited. BB checks, I bet the pot, button folds, BB calls. The turn is junk, but puts three spades on the board. BB checks. While I wouldn't be surprised to see the BB sticking around with either a 7 or a 3, my spidey sense tells me to put on the brakes. I check. River brings another 3. BB checks. This is one of those situations where any bet I make can only be called by someone who has me beat. Plus, given this guy's loose cannon nature, any bet from me could quite likely be looking at a push with about a dozen ways that I'm beat on this one. I check. He turns over the nut flush. I so wanted to ask him where the other half of that pot was.
Oh, I almost forgot. This same guy, who kept tossing all his chips in the pot, actually called a river bet while holding quad kings, leaving the other guy with about 30BB left behind. I almost timed out on the next hand as I stared at the screen in disbelief and amazement. How do you not realize you've got quad kings? He bet the river, the other guy raised, and this guy just calls. He'll stick all his chips in the pot pre-flop with K7o, but he won't raise with the stone cold nuts.
Yep, no 90MPH fastballs in Little League.
No comments:
Post a Comment