A minor Bank Holiday domestic saw me curl up on the sofa on Sunday afternoon with Sliding Doors, recorded on my Sky from ages ago.
Then suddenly I realised it was Sunday afternoon and 10 mins into the PokerStars Sunday Ladies league. So I paused Gwyneth, hurriedly flipped open the laptop, logged on, topped up 40 quid and bought in as a late reg - against my tournament karma and religion, normally, but I'd only missed one level and 1500 starting chips would have got me into the middle of the field, so I convinced myself it was a good idea.
Is a kinda funny tournament; plenty enough time to wait for decent hands and suss most of the girls out (says she who went steaming in 1st hand in with a 4x bb raise with a pair of 8s from early position....).
There were some good players, sure, a few wild ones, a couple of plain crazy ones, a couple of chancers (one in particular who seemed to be constantly rewarded on the river, much to my chagrin and muttered grievances).
I made a measured-ish, if slightly ropey, call for a third of my stack against an all in, where my 8 of my J8 had caught top pair with a 3 and 4 also out there. She had checked, so I had 2x-min bet. She had been all in I think 3 times before, always on her terms though and as the aggressor, and the one hand she had to show she had it. If she'd have shoved into me on the flop, I'd have probably got rid, but it just smelt like an 'I'm not sure I'm winning here, but I'm hoping to scare you off' type all in, so I called.
She was up and down with 2-5, so better shape than perhaps I had hoped she would be. She caught a 5 on the turn and a 5 on the river. Now THAT is annoying.
So then we were into damage limitation for a good while, until Aces got paid by the same all in merchant, with a raise pre flop and a call of my shove on a paired 7s board. She had 2s. Ooookaaaayyyy....
Antes kicked in at 50/100 which made pots worth winning. I had my chance (I think) with KJ when A, Q, 9 came down and I folded to a big bet out from the 2nd chip leader, when surely the all in over the top could have worked. A clearer head and a bit more confidence and I fancy they'd have gone over the line.
I ended up all in pre-flop with AQ v AJ, after a raise from me, a re-raise back from the big chipleader. She hit her jack on flop - and the river, for good measure. Out 16th of 40 (the numbers are going up week by week for this tourny, so the 2500 euro guaranteed pot was split between the first 6 tonight, with the winner getting 900 quid or so - still, definitely worth having).
Not great, but in a better, calmer mood and with some more luck, I can do well in that tourny, I feel sure. All things considered I actually enjoyed it for a bit. This could well become a regular fixture. One half decent cash and the EPT buy in (and white wine kitty) is taken care of.
Off to cook steak and drink Rioja now and get back to Gywnnie I hope sorting her life out.
Sunday 29 August 2010
Wednesday 25 August 2010
Cash Calf
I am getting really rather in to this cash lark, I don't mind telling you.
I have really only played 'social' cash after a few beers, in the Vic or Empire with work colleagues before, but I've never taken it as seriously as I am realising I should have. Other than that, I've tended to shy away from cash games (save a couple in Vegas where it's kinda the law to play), as, if I bust out of a tournament, the last thing I normally want to do is go and chase any losses with the poor, tilty saps who have also gone out early doors. I am much more of a 'storm off, order a glass of chardonnay and sit in the corner and sulk' type.
That said, sitting comfortably in your nightie with your laptop propped on the sofa arm, music/football on in the background and playing deliberate, patient cash poker does have its merits, I have discovered - certainly financial ones.
Time does get away from you (it was 1.45am when I looked at the clock on my laptop last night and, other than piecing together the evening by working out when I finshed cooking and eating and the duration of the washing machine cycles, I could barely account for where the last 5 hours had gone... ). And I will admit I struggle, like most, I'm sure, to walk away at the optimum moment (you don't have to worry about making that decision, of course, in a tournament), but I have managed to double my account this week in 2 sittings which is most pleasing.
Last night was slightly more scenic than I'd have liked, having lost the profit I had built up earlier in the week with the most petulant call(s) with a pair of deuces on a paired board of Jacks. Of course he had the other Jack! Even if he had had the 10 (or the 7 or the 5), I was losing. What a muppet. But I hit some lovely hands and, without the stress of blinds going up and needing to get busy, it was really nice to just sit and see lots of hands and play the premium ones (and some of the less premium ones for a giggle and to try to outplay people - which, for a significant part, worked).
Might I be morphing into a grinder in front of my own eyes? This is a very interesting and unexpected development. I do like the 'comfort' of the beginning, middle and end of tournaments, and knowing what you're going to lose (or potentially win!) before you start; I crave structure, so can't see myself ditching them entirely. But this week has been most revelatory and has opended my eyes to a world which, while I was aware of its existence, has potentially massive untapped and unacknowledged potential.
Hmmmmmmmmm. Vic or Mint on Friday, possibly....
I have really only played 'social' cash after a few beers, in the Vic or Empire with work colleagues before, but I've never taken it as seriously as I am realising I should have. Other than that, I've tended to shy away from cash games (save a couple in Vegas where it's kinda the law to play), as, if I bust out of a tournament, the last thing I normally want to do is go and chase any losses with the poor, tilty saps who have also gone out early doors. I am much more of a 'storm off, order a glass of chardonnay and sit in the corner and sulk' type.
That said, sitting comfortably in your nightie with your laptop propped on the sofa arm, music/football on in the background and playing deliberate, patient cash poker does have its merits, I have discovered - certainly financial ones.
Time does get away from you (it was 1.45am when I looked at the clock on my laptop last night and, other than piecing together the evening by working out when I finshed cooking and eating and the duration of the washing machine cycles, I could barely account for where the last 5 hours had gone... ). And I will admit I struggle, like most, I'm sure, to walk away at the optimum moment (you don't have to worry about making that decision, of course, in a tournament), but I have managed to double my account this week in 2 sittings which is most pleasing.
Last night was slightly more scenic than I'd have liked, having lost the profit I had built up earlier in the week with the most petulant call(s) with a pair of deuces on a paired board of Jacks. Of course he had the other Jack! Even if he had had the 10 (or the 7 or the 5), I was losing. What a muppet. But I hit some lovely hands and, without the stress of blinds going up and needing to get busy, it was really nice to just sit and see lots of hands and play the premium ones (and some of the less premium ones for a giggle and to try to outplay people - which, for a significant part, worked).
Might I be morphing into a grinder in front of my own eyes? This is a very interesting and unexpected development. I do like the 'comfort' of the beginning, middle and end of tournaments, and knowing what you're going to lose (or potentially win!) before you start; I crave structure, so can't see myself ditching them entirely. But this week has been most revelatory and has opended my eyes to a world which, while I was aware of its existence, has potentially massive untapped and unacknowledged potential.
Hmmmmmmmmm. Vic or Mint on Friday, possibly....
Monday 23 August 2010
Blinked and missed it
That didn't go according to plan.
First attempt at the £16 satellite to 109 quid final satellite for EPT London Ladies event tonight and it would be an understatement to say it wasn't the best night of my life.
...I say 'night'. Technically, it wasn't the best 25 minutes of my life.
5 minute blinds (which literally disappear in front of your eyes, especially when you're sat on an empty table, which has been opened to accommodate late reg players, for 2 minutes) and 1500 starting chips.
In spite of my winning the 2nd pot of the 'night' with A-high, a small (aborted) chase here, an early all-in over the top of your 8s, that logic and pot odds say you kinda have to ditch, there, an un-defendable big blind here and pair of pocket 4s un-done by an AK there, and, before you've drawn proper breath, you're shoving with KQ, with 6 BBs left, getting called by the BB's A4, the latter of which hits, and you're in the proverbial (and literal) early bath.
Am really rather frustrated at not being able to play properly; If you have no cards or your decent hand gets sucked out in the first 3 levels, you're left optionless. There were some girls in that event, against whom I played in the Monte Carlo satellites earlier this year, some of them very useful players, who ended up busting out even earlier than me - am still not sure if that makes me feel better or worse, though.
The whole tournament was done in an hour and I have to say I'm still to be convinced how such a lightning quick format can really separate the women from the girls (or men from the boys - it's not a gender thing). For the last 20 mins, drawing lots, arguably, could have settled it just as easily. I know that's the game sometimes (and, admittedly, I knew what I was getting into before I did it) - but it still doesn't help my foul mood right now...
I think I'm most frustrated, as I can't even see where I put a foot wrong to have it go so badly, so can't even learn much from it. If I had the whole thing over again, the only thing I MIGHT do differently is chance my lucky pocket 8s and call my stack off, on a bit of a wing and a prayer. Something which the Textbook Poker Fairy in my head doesn't like one bit, but needs must sometimes, I guess.
At the moment, I'm thinking I have to be better off just buying into the 109 quid weekend gig; 1 in 13 get a seat in the live event - and it's 15 min blinds, at least! - Or just knocking the whole idea on the head and buying in for my £200 direct, no messing about. Which is a shame, really, as I thoroughly enjoyed my Monte Carlo quali adventure, earlier in the year, and I got to play some good poker in very good company.
But even my maths is telling me it isn't making much financial sense the way it is, especially if I have committed to myself that I'm going to play, regardless - and, while picking Vanessa Rousso's brain would, of course, be very handy, I don't NEED the accommodation package, what with living 20 mins from Edgware Rd.
Anyway, whatever the sad emoticon with its bottom lip turned over like a 5 year old having a tantrum is, insert it here....
First attempt at the £16 satellite to 109 quid final satellite for EPT London Ladies event tonight and it would be an understatement to say it wasn't the best night of my life.
...I say 'night'. Technically, it wasn't the best 25 minutes of my life.
5 minute blinds (which literally disappear in front of your eyes, especially when you're sat on an empty table, which has been opened to accommodate late reg players, for 2 minutes) and 1500 starting chips.
In spite of my winning the 2nd pot of the 'night' with A-high, a small (aborted) chase here, an early all-in over the top of your 8s, that logic and pot odds say you kinda have to ditch, there, an un-defendable big blind here and pair of pocket 4s un-done by an AK there, and, before you've drawn proper breath, you're shoving with KQ, with 6 BBs left, getting called by the BB's A4, the latter of which hits, and you're in the proverbial (and literal) early bath.
Am really rather frustrated at not being able to play properly; If you have no cards or your decent hand gets sucked out in the first 3 levels, you're left optionless. There were some girls in that event, against whom I played in the Monte Carlo satellites earlier this year, some of them very useful players, who ended up busting out even earlier than me - am still not sure if that makes me feel better or worse, though.
The whole tournament was done in an hour and I have to say I'm still to be convinced how such a lightning quick format can really separate the women from the girls (or men from the boys - it's not a gender thing). For the last 20 mins, drawing lots, arguably, could have settled it just as easily. I know that's the game sometimes (and, admittedly, I knew what I was getting into before I did it) - but it still doesn't help my foul mood right now...
I think I'm most frustrated, as I can't even see where I put a foot wrong to have it go so badly, so can't even learn much from it. If I had the whole thing over again, the only thing I MIGHT do differently is chance my lucky pocket 8s and call my stack off, on a bit of a wing and a prayer. Something which the Textbook Poker Fairy in my head doesn't like one bit, but needs must sometimes, I guess.
At the moment, I'm thinking I have to be better off just buying into the 109 quid weekend gig; 1 in 13 get a seat in the live event - and it's 15 min blinds, at least! - Or just knocking the whole idea on the head and buying in for my £200 direct, no messing about. Which is a shame, really, as I thoroughly enjoyed my Monte Carlo quali adventure, earlier in the year, and I got to play some good poker in very good company.
But even my maths is telling me it isn't making much financial sense the way it is, especially if I have committed to myself that I'm going to play, regardless - and, while picking Vanessa Rousso's brain would, of course, be very handy, I don't NEED the accommodation package, what with living 20 mins from Edgware Rd.
Anyway, whatever the sad emoticon with its bottom lip turned over like a 5 year old having a tantrum is, insert it here....
Thursday 19 August 2010
Nobody Home (except me, it seems)
Am most frustrated.
Got home in good time. Got the washing on. Got the toasties under the grill. Got the toasties into my stomach. Got the wine open. Got a couple of glasses into my bloodstream.
Got registered for my first (and hopefully last) attempt at the £16 freezeout satellite for EPT London Ladies, the winner of which was guaranteed a seat in the weekly final £109 satellite for the live event in October.
Got the washing out of the machine. Got hair up in a ponytail. Even got pink Las Vegas cap from my mirror. Got game face on.
And then, a notice to all players; this tournament has been cancelled owing to insufficient player numbers.
Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo! I was feeling really good. Gutted.
So, in the absence of a ladies game, I resolved to play a turbo SNG with the boys and cashed 4th, then made a surprising but pleasing 100% return from a low-ish stakes cash game - rather chuffed, I was, and at least some frustration diluted.
So I will be making my 2010 EPT satellite debut next week instead, then, when I return from a weekend in the Essex countryside, some golf and probably a not insignificant amount of wine, food and poker on the living room floor with the boys.
Got home in good time. Got the washing on. Got the toasties under the grill. Got the toasties into my stomach. Got the wine open. Got a couple of glasses into my bloodstream.
Got registered for my first (and hopefully last) attempt at the £16 freezeout satellite for EPT London Ladies, the winner of which was guaranteed a seat in the weekly final £109 satellite for the live event in October.
Got the washing out of the machine. Got hair up in a ponytail. Even got pink Las Vegas cap from my mirror. Got game face on.
And then, a notice to all players; this tournament has been cancelled owing to insufficient player numbers.
Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo! I was feeling really good. Gutted.
So, in the absence of a ladies game, I resolved to play a turbo SNG with the boys and cashed 4th, then made a surprising but pleasing 100% return from a low-ish stakes cash game - rather chuffed, I was, and at least some frustration diluted.
So I will be making my 2010 EPT satellite debut next week instead, then, when I return from a weekend in the Essex countryside, some golf and probably a not insignificant amount of wine, food and poker on the living room floor with the boys.
Monday 16 August 2010
.....Bit distracted..... Hmmmm?! ... Wha? :-s .....
I just flopped quad 8's in my SNG and managed to get fully paid off by a full house and a chancer. Next hand, I raised with AQ from early position and got shoved over the top of for as good as the remainder of my stack.
I swear I took my fingers off my laptop, thought for a moment, said outloud 'He's got Kings' to myself.
And then called anyway.
I am an idiot.
I only did it cos he was the same guy who had river sucked me out of my 2 pair (of A2 - goodness knows what I was still doing in the hand after the turn, mind - certainly still only calling, not raising - but that's a lesson for another day) early doors and he seemed to be raising every hand afterwards. No excuse, of course.
I wasn't really playing properly, which was silly; I was just fulfilling a void post-dinner and University Challenge. Earlier, owing to a Thai cooking-time miscalculation, I had arrived at my laptop too late to sensibly enter the £16 freezeout turbo satellite to the £109 final satellite for the EPT London's Women's event on Stars.
I seriously thought about taking a spin, but even I could work out the maths didn't make sense, with blinds as they were, and only 1 seat guaranteed at that point. I did stop and watch, though, for just under an hour, to see what the likely competition would be like later in the week (when Spurs aren't playing in Europe or when I'm not having dinner with Leigh). I am either a very sad cow or a very smart cookie. Probably half of each, in reality.
I am also well up for the next Stars Sunday Women's Poker League. My eyes weren't deceiving me before, it was indeed 50 + 5 Euro buy in and it paid to 4th, with 1,125 Euro to the winner the other Sunday, and was repeated yesterday, with a couple more entrants. It's as good as a shoe-in I'll be there this week; it's like dangling northern ale and a bag of pork scratchings in front of my nose in a beer garden on a sunny Sunday afternoon; I can't say no.
Am off to watch WPT on Sky now to remind myself how it's really done. No Nenad Medic to swoon over, which is a bit of a shame for my hot-blooded, heterosexual, female eyes (sorry, ladies, I saw him first...), but at least I can focus on what you're s'posed to do with what, and can keep depositing in my Smart Poker Play bank - Is going to be a big couple of poker months, I fancy I'll need all the credit I can find.
I swear I took my fingers off my laptop, thought for a moment, said outloud 'He's got Kings' to myself.
And then called anyway.
I am an idiot.
I only did it cos he was the same guy who had river sucked me out of my 2 pair (of A2 - goodness knows what I was still doing in the hand after the turn, mind - certainly still only calling, not raising - but that's a lesson for another day) early doors and he seemed to be raising every hand afterwards. No excuse, of course.
I wasn't really playing properly, which was silly; I was just fulfilling a void post-dinner and University Challenge. Earlier, owing to a Thai cooking-time miscalculation, I had arrived at my laptop too late to sensibly enter the £16 freezeout turbo satellite to the £109 final satellite for the EPT London's Women's event on Stars.
I seriously thought about taking a spin, but even I could work out the maths didn't make sense, with blinds as they were, and only 1 seat guaranteed at that point. I did stop and watch, though, for just under an hour, to see what the likely competition would be like later in the week (when Spurs aren't playing in Europe or when I'm not having dinner with Leigh). I am either a very sad cow or a very smart cookie. Probably half of each, in reality.
I am also well up for the next Stars Sunday Women's Poker League. My eyes weren't deceiving me before, it was indeed 50 + 5 Euro buy in and it paid to 4th, with 1,125 Euro to the winner the other Sunday, and was repeated yesterday, with a couple more entrants. It's as good as a shoe-in I'll be there this week; it's like dangling northern ale and a bag of pork scratchings in front of my nose in a beer garden on a sunny Sunday afternoon; I can't say no.
Am off to watch WPT on Sky now to remind myself how it's really done. No Nenad Medic to swoon over, which is a bit of a shame for my hot-blooded, heterosexual, female eyes (sorry, ladies, I saw him first...), but at least I can focus on what you're s'posed to do with what, and can keep depositing in my Smart Poker Play bank - Is going to be a big couple of poker months, I fancy I'll need all the credit I can find.
Friday 13 August 2010
If you're gonna get busted, you might as well get busted by the best
Bluff magazine held another Gaming Industry 'Notworkers' (see what they did there?) poker social last night, again back at Mint Casino.
It would have been rude not to go, of course, even if I was a bit tired and not on tip top form, so I took our new IT consultants (and incidentally rather good poker players) under my wing and, with a brief pit-stop at KFC Gloucester Road, which was just what the doctor ordered, we swiped ourselves in, grabbed a Riesling and some Guinness and went to mingle.
It was a little disappointing that the room wasn't filled, as it was last time, with less than 30 showing up and a disproportionate number (nearly a third) of them being recruitment consultants.... Bluff and IGaming business had a few people there and the rest were seemingly stragglers and randoms - including an accountant(!), but a very friendly and chatty room nonetheless.
There were 2 ladies in the tournament, both sat at table 1, one in seat 4 and one in 6 (myself the latter); Who should be 'drawn' in seat 5? Michael Caselli....; Great chat and hyper as always, so great value and I'd never begrudge being sat next to him - especially when I could have drawn the accountant - but man, how I wished he had been to my left, he's so bloody wild.
Thankfully in the 2nd level, he hit his ragged Ace and got called on both flop and turn when my 2nd and 3 Jacks hit (with King kicker). The potentially flush-filling spade on the river killed even his action, but I was happy to take the 1500 or so in the pot. Might not sound like a lot, but when you only start with 2k, it really helps.
It also feels pretty good to take a half decent pot in front of the industry guys, but morevover when a pro is sat in seat 9; John Tabatabai had came down with Caselli.
I have never known such a lovely, polite, funny, intelligent and charming poker player (not that I know that many, in fairness). I couldn't believe that half the guys didn't seem to know who he was (one of my colleagues included, who got busted by him around halfway, when his AJ got done by Tabatabai's Aces, which were min raised on the button and shoved over the top of by the AJ. Ooops).
He just introduced himself as 'John', was playing up a little bit, suggesting it was only his 2nd time playing, 'string' betting his calls almost apologetically and nervously. He forgot himself once in a while, though, when he mucked, picking his cards up and doing that cool, effortless, flicky thing back to the dealer (I will sooo be practising that this weekend, as I can't 'ripple' chips for the life of me, not with my nails, so I could do with a trick).
I can't imagine what he must have thought of us with our crap-shooty 30 quid buy in tournament. I guess it was a nice warm up for him before he went off to 'work' after midnight (online, I assumed). He was immaculately presented, he is very 'pretty' if you'll forgive the expression, lovely features and eyelashes, he happily engaged me in conversation, rescuing me from Caselli's barrage of banter at times and was just genuinely a lovely human being.
I was fortunate enough to be sat in seat 2 next to him at the final table, that I had sneaked on to, very short (but longest-laster in my company, so now the proud owner of office bragging rights for the forseeable future). I had got away with an all-in over the top of the other girl, who had raised from late position trying to bully the short blinds, around the FT bubble, but I had picked up 10s. Good and right move, of course, by her, but she must have been doing it with genuinely nothing, as my all in was probably only a min raise back - if that - and she folded, when she must have been priced in to an extent? Either my maths is terrible (very possible) or she's a really wus-y girl. She cashed, in fairness, so maybe I should be quiet, but she did get veerrry lucky in couple of multi-way all ins on the 2nd last table....
I was desperate to stick around as long as possible on the Final Table, watch John play and enjoy having the opportunity chat to him; we covered religion, fasting, The Devilfish, heads up play, toungue rings and probably a couple of other topics over what must have only been 20 minutes or so before I was out; he was quite fascinating, what a life he must have.
I ended up having him raise into me when I had found pocket 5s in the big blind. Plenty good enough for me with my probably 4 chips total (one of which was a '1000', mind) and over the line they went. He thought for about 5 seconds (which must have been him just being gentlemanly and courteous, especially with the fortress and turrets he had built in front of him), before calling and showing Q-10 off.
I was stood up, I think more in hope and expectation; I must have done it subconsciously to get the best possible view of the board. I looked down at him and offered my hand before the flop came down and said, 'Good luck'. Ridiculous, I know. And I certainly didn't mean it, I'd have loved to have gone home with my 'I got doubled up by a pro' story, let alone stay in the tournament a while longer.
Sadly, he spiked a 10 on the river but I have no problems losing to a player and a man like him - especially as he went on to wipe the floor with the other rec cons, publishers and woman and take the tournament down. So proof it is a game of skill.
A very jolly night. I left my colleagues playing cash (and avoiding the verbal assaults and aggressive finger wagging that was going on one table in particular) until the wee hours, while I grabbed a cab home and treated myself to a 1am toastie.
My love for poker is most definitely back. Which is impeccable timing, as PokerStars launched their satellites for London EPT this week; there's two Ladies events this year, it seems - and they're taking place on a weekend. 'Whoo-hoo!' all round to that! Going to investigate their new Women's Poker League too; if I read it right, there was a $50 tournament last Sunday with 25 players in it and the winner got over $1k. That has to be worth a proper look - I'll be retiring from recruitment before long, if I'm not careful (only kidding, Mum, don't worry...)
It would have been rude not to go, of course, even if I was a bit tired and not on tip top form, so I took our new IT consultants (and incidentally rather good poker players) under my wing and, with a brief pit-stop at KFC Gloucester Road, which was just what the doctor ordered, we swiped ourselves in, grabbed a Riesling and some Guinness and went to mingle.
It was a little disappointing that the room wasn't filled, as it was last time, with less than 30 showing up and a disproportionate number (nearly a third) of them being recruitment consultants.... Bluff and IGaming business had a few people there and the rest were seemingly stragglers and randoms - including an accountant(!), but a very friendly and chatty room nonetheless.
There were 2 ladies in the tournament, both sat at table 1, one in seat 4 and one in 6 (myself the latter); Who should be 'drawn' in seat 5? Michael Caselli....; Great chat and hyper as always, so great value and I'd never begrudge being sat next to him - especially when I could have drawn the accountant - but man, how I wished he had been to my left, he's so bloody wild.
Thankfully in the 2nd level, he hit his ragged Ace and got called on both flop and turn when my 2nd and 3 Jacks hit (with King kicker). The potentially flush-filling spade on the river killed even his action, but I was happy to take the 1500 or so in the pot. Might not sound like a lot, but when you only start with 2k, it really helps.
It also feels pretty good to take a half decent pot in front of the industry guys, but morevover when a pro is sat in seat 9; John Tabatabai had came down with Caselli.
I have never known such a lovely, polite, funny, intelligent and charming poker player (not that I know that many, in fairness). I couldn't believe that half the guys didn't seem to know who he was (one of my colleagues included, who got busted by him around halfway, when his AJ got done by Tabatabai's Aces, which were min raised on the button and shoved over the top of by the AJ. Ooops).
He just introduced himself as 'John', was playing up a little bit, suggesting it was only his 2nd time playing, 'string' betting his calls almost apologetically and nervously. He forgot himself once in a while, though, when he mucked, picking his cards up and doing that cool, effortless, flicky thing back to the dealer (I will sooo be practising that this weekend, as I can't 'ripple' chips for the life of me, not with my nails, so I could do with a trick).
I can't imagine what he must have thought of us with our crap-shooty 30 quid buy in tournament. I guess it was a nice warm up for him before he went off to 'work' after midnight (online, I assumed). He was immaculately presented, he is very 'pretty' if you'll forgive the expression, lovely features and eyelashes, he happily engaged me in conversation, rescuing me from Caselli's barrage of banter at times and was just genuinely a lovely human being.
I was fortunate enough to be sat in seat 2 next to him at the final table, that I had sneaked on to, very short (but longest-laster in my company, so now the proud owner of office bragging rights for the forseeable future). I had got away with an all-in over the top of the other girl, who had raised from late position trying to bully the short blinds, around the FT bubble, but I had picked up 10s. Good and right move, of course, by her, but she must have been doing it with genuinely nothing, as my all in was probably only a min raise back - if that - and she folded, when she must have been priced in to an extent? Either my maths is terrible (very possible) or she's a really wus-y girl. She cashed, in fairness, so maybe I should be quiet, but she did get veerrry lucky in couple of multi-way all ins on the 2nd last table....
I was desperate to stick around as long as possible on the Final Table, watch John play and enjoy having the opportunity chat to him; we covered religion, fasting, The Devilfish, heads up play, toungue rings and probably a couple of other topics over what must have only been 20 minutes or so before I was out; he was quite fascinating, what a life he must have.
I ended up having him raise into me when I had found pocket 5s in the big blind. Plenty good enough for me with my probably 4 chips total (one of which was a '1000', mind) and over the line they went. He thought for about 5 seconds (which must have been him just being gentlemanly and courteous, especially with the fortress and turrets he had built in front of him), before calling and showing Q-10 off.
I was stood up, I think more in hope and expectation; I must have done it subconsciously to get the best possible view of the board. I looked down at him and offered my hand before the flop came down and said, 'Good luck'. Ridiculous, I know. And I certainly didn't mean it, I'd have loved to have gone home with my 'I got doubled up by a pro' story, let alone stay in the tournament a while longer.
Sadly, he spiked a 10 on the river but I have no problems losing to a player and a man like him - especially as he went on to wipe the floor with the other rec cons, publishers and woman and take the tournament down. So proof it is a game of skill.
A very jolly night. I left my colleagues playing cash (and avoiding the verbal assaults and aggressive finger wagging that was going on one table in particular) until the wee hours, while I grabbed a cab home and treated myself to a 1am toastie.
My love for poker is most definitely back. Which is impeccable timing, as PokerStars launched their satellites for London EPT this week; there's two Ladies events this year, it seems - and they're taking place on a weekend. 'Whoo-hoo!' all round to that! Going to investigate their new Women's Poker League too; if I read it right, there was a $50 tournament last Sunday with 25 players in it and the winner got over $1k. That has to be worth a proper look - I'll be retiring from recruitment before long, if I'm not careful (only kidding, Mum, don't worry...)
Sunday 8 August 2010
At least I've still got my lipsalve
As we were lying in bed on Saturday morning, thinking and talking about what might happen in Maidenhead, Leigh was doing his best to convince me I had every right to be there and I would be absolutely fine (and even if I wasn't, it didn't matter anyway). I had high hopes and although of course knew I (like anyone) would need the cards to run hot, I felt overall surely I'd have as much chance as anyone of making the money.
"What you've got to be aware of is, someone at some point is going to make a call with a nonsense hand and suck you out and it'll be how much you lose and how you deal with it that will be important", he said, wisely.
So we toddled off to Paddington, me at times with my stomach in a knot wanting to hurl and exhaling heavily, at other times, feeling pretty good and relaxed about the whole affair and actually pretty excited to be getting a shot at likely 2.5k first prize for my 40 quid satellite investment (plus 12 quid for the train fares and 6 quid in Starbucks).
When we got there, we walked into literally a cafe (wasn't even sure they did wine until I asked the lady at the 'bar'; thankfully she answered in the affirmative), we registered as members of the club so Leigh could play cash or a SNG in the 'man creche' upstairs. I reg'd for the tournament downstairs, just by announcing my name; everything had been taken care of. Marvelous.
Lack of Betfred sponsor badge, though, that I was hoping to, be given for qualifiying through their site. That would have settled some nerves, so, in the absence of that, I went back upstairs and tucked into a glass of vin blanc and went and sat away from the 'in' crowd, the core, the club, who all knew each other very well, it seemed. There were some other 'outsiders' sat on individual tables opposite their respective obedient husbands, boyfriends, partners, bag carriers. I resolved to just smile politely at as many people as possible and speak if I was spoken to.
We were half an hour late starting as a number of (I'm guessing important) people had been stuck in traffic on the motorway, but when we did get going, I was sat on table 6, seat 4.
I was asked just before we started by seat 1 if I was Leshia. I said yes, pulled a quizzical face and asked how she knew (she pointed to the seating plan. Ah, yes. Blonde....) She introduced herself as 'Polly' (Paula); turns out I had been on her table in the satellite on Thursday. She said 'So you won a seat then?' I said yes. She said I had played really well (loudly enough that the table heard - I could have kissed her). I said thank you graciously.
I plopped my free keyring and branded lipsalve ito my handbag (apparently everyone used to get a polo shirt or at least a chip protector in years gone by; recession poker tour, clearly...) and then we were off.
There were a couple of nice, clearly experienced, seemingly mutually known and respected ladies in seat 2 and 3, a very quiet, pretty oriental girl in 5, a lady who looked familiar to me in 6, but it might have just been her hair. That kind of perm you don't forget. There was a lady I think called Jackie in seat 7, another one of the club members, I think; I don't remember her having much humour. I found out 10-15 mins in that seat 8 was 'MrsLewy' from the other night, still don't know her real name. And seat 9 was empty at the start, but was to be filled in due course by a slender lady with blonde hair who I was convinced I had at some point played cricket against, but I never got the chance to ask.
I think I won the second pot of the day, calling a raise from the big blind from the oriental lady. I had K-10 and my 10 hit the flop so I bet and was called. Blank on the river so I bet again, with feeling this time. She folded. Not sure why I was shaking, I was confident I was ahead. Even when she had folded I couldn't grip some of the chips to stack them up. I asked Leigh, who had nodded his approval to me, for glass of wine number 3 (in a tall glass so it would fit into the drink holder in the table). So much for switching to coffee...
I was getting lots of respect when I was betting which was pleasing. I was generally hitting, but a couple of bluff leads on the flop were getting through too. I, unusually, didn't count my stack for a good hour. I will admit I thought I was doing better than my chip stack could attest to when I did count up, so I decided to slow down a bit, on both the betting and the drinking. I was, though, as confident as I have ever been at a poker table and really enjoying it, making acquaintances if not firm friends (this lot were FAR chattier than my table at EPT last year). I was keeping people amused above the rail while playing serious-looking poker below it, which seemed to be working for me all-round.
Then I had the chance to take someone out. I am still 50/50 on this decision. I had raised from half way round with pocket 7s. The short stack, who I think was in the big blind shoved for 2.5k more. I had 7k at the time. She had been all in I think twice before, winning once with a big Ace and having it folded back to her the other.
I counted out the 2.5k which would leave me 4.5k if I lost (only 1500 less than we started with); blinds were still tiny. I guessed she could have found a big(ger) pair, but equally she could have had AK, AQ, AJ, possibly even A-10 and all I'd need to do is dodge cards, rather than find them. I really wanted to call, part for the potential financial reward, but also partly (and arguably mostly) to set a tone that I had come to play.
So in they went.
She had 10s and they held up. Everyone seemed to understand my logic, anyway and there weren't too many eyebrows obviously raised.
Only 2 hands later, I called an average raise with pocket 9s from the big blind, I think. Flop came down A clubs, 9 hearts, Q clubs.
The whole time (white-wine-guzzling-notwithstanding) I had been playing very thoughtfully and much slower than usual (in fact I think much slower than anyone else at the table); I was really thinking through all my options every time, what had happened before in that hand, and with that player in general, was it a time to make a move? What will make this hand end when I want it to and with the result I'm looking for?
Anyway, I elected to min bet my set, rather than what I'd normally do which is check. With 2 over cards out there and a flush draw I wanted to get a feel for where I was and, if I was then sure I was ahead, get the most out of it I could.
My bet was immediately raised I think 2.5 times by the perm in seat 6. The other player in the hand, the sweet friendly club member in seat 2 re-raised her to half my remaining stack.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm......
Old, scared, negative, fast-acting Leeshy probably would have already folded. But, as I had come to play, and play positively, there was no way in the world I was going to fold. So the only other option was to get them in. I knew it straight away, but didn't do it for a bit, making out I was having an internal argument with myself and I wasn't sure my hand was good (possibly representing A-9 or AK).
The words 'I'm all in' got a tad stuck in my throat when I announced them (wasn't faking that, I was going to be so gutted if it was to end there, I was having so much fun). The raiser got out of the way (figure she was drawing to the flush), the re-raiser immediately picked up chips (gulp), asked how much (oh dear, but ok, if she needs a count...) and called (here we go then).
I flipped my 9s and leapt out of my seat. I was pretty sure she'd show A-Q and she duly did. I crossed fingers on both hands and held them in front of my mouth, saying quietly 'no queens, no aces... please.... no queens, no aces'.
The dealer thankfully obliged. 'Yay' I squeaked, quietly.
At the first break (free dinner buffet of chilli or chicken/cream stroganoff-y thing included! - the day just got better and better!), I had just under 12k, double what they were saying the average was, not that I pay too much attention to that. I think we had lost 12 or 13 of the 63 starters. I was beaming, was a little light headed from the wine, but relaxed and in control and loving it. The all-in aside, I hadn't been under too much pressure and don't think I had done anything silly and had generally played well and positively, and couldn't wait to get back.
The personnel at the table had changed slightly. The oriental girl next to me who never got going and had been busted out had been replaced by another club member, seat 7 had become an older blonde woman in a polo shirt who looked like a younger version of my nan, seat 9 was now filled by a young pretty northern exile, with long dark hair who had a big stack and clearly hadn't built it up by accident; I thought she was very good. Thankfully she seemed to like me, wanted to chat across the table about Yorkshire and cash games and we held I think a significant amount of mutual respect for each other. Then in seat 1, a lady again from the north (Leeds I guessed from her accent but didn't ask to confirm it), who had played in a number of these legs but wasn't seemingly in the club. She was very slender and drawn, dressed every conservatively, was a little shakey and confessed she never played online as she 'and computers don't get on'. She had also, early on in that level, played 2-7 from the big blind and flopped an full house, playing it very aggressively, (betting out the flop and re-re-raising, the turn I think) and got full value out of my nan's doppelganger, with an all in on the river, which had swelled her stack.
I started well, picking up a few hands, hitting some flops and a couple of bluffs. I got KK for the 2nd time of the evening (I had played it strong before, having had a call from the pretty girl in 9, pre flop, but she folded on the flop with a paired 10 board and another meaningful bet from me). This time I was faced with a raise for c3.5 x BB from the same pretty girl. Conveniently, the nice lady from TC's came round with sweets just at that moment, so, with a mouthful of humbug sticking my teeth together, I announced 'wleRe-Raiseh' and made it double her bet (eventually. I can't count, especially when people bet odd numbers like 1725 so I think I threw in 3350 or something - it looked like a lot of chips anyway, so figured it would be enough. ...Then I put in 100 too many trying to make the bet up, at the dealer's request. I apologised sincerely as I wasn't playing or acting, I just genuinely can't add up).
Anyway, brilliantly, the waitress also came by just at this time, so I took the opportunity to look disinterested in what seat 9 was going to do and confidently ordered myself another white wine. She (seat 9, not the waitress) tried to look at me but didn't hold it for too long and smiled. I just stared right back, serious as you like. She folded after a time. Very sensible, although I was actually quite relived, just in case an A had come on the flop, as I'd have been in no man's land then against her (and her stack), regardless if she'd had one or not.
We had lost about half the field by now and it must have been just after 8pm, around another hour til the next break (I wondered if we were going to get cheesecake at that one...)
Then I think the very next hand I was dealt 5s in the BB and decided to check. The blinds had just gone up, so when I made my min bet on the flop of I think 3, 7, 6 rainbow, I was 100 short. Thankfully the dealer and everyone else had good humour about it. Only my nan called. Check, check the turn and a queen on the river, which I checked, allowing her to bet 2k into what I counted up to be a 3k pot. I screwed up my face, not because I didn't like it, just cos it made no sense. It reeked of trying to nick it and again I instantly wanted to call. But I stopped myself and thought it through logically. Limped in, yes; Queen-9 or something, yes of course possibly. Might have hit the middle cards, of course, but she'd have raised the flop or bet the turn surely? And if she wanted me to call, she'd have bet 1200-1800 into that relatively small pot. I was talking to myself the whole time out loud and I didn't care. I wanted to get it right (and hopefully make sure everyone else thought I was an intelligent player). I did call and she shrugged like 'you got me', so I flipped over my 5s and she nodded, but also showed the busted straight draw.
So now I was up to 17k, possibly just the chip leader on our table and I figured had to at least be in the top 15 of the 34 or so left, taking a cursory glance around the room (I have since discovered from the Rock Poker live update partner site that I was in fact in the top 3 - and there were loads of 4-6k stacks around).
Then I was dealt A-8 spades, 2nd to act I think. I called and there was no more than 1 call behind until the blinds. Can't remember if the girl in seat 1 was big or small blind but she made up the difference or checked.
Flop came down 2, 7, 4 I think (the four might have been a 5) but there were 2 spades. Seat 1 bet out, I called and the remaining player got out of the way. Queen of spades on the turn; happy days are here again! Nut flush! Whoo-hoo. Seat 1 puts out a really rather chunky bet (a little shakily). Oookkaayyyyyyy..... Think, Hawkins, think, what might she have and how are we going to get lots of chips coming our way?
Her bet was I think 1400-1500. Has she a flush too? That would be awesome! Has she a set? This is also splendid news. Either way, it's going to cost her a lot of money to see a river card. Or we can just end it here. I don't really mind. So I raise. To around 3.5k. She looks like she is going to fold. She fiddles with her cards, she picks up some chips, she plays with them for a bit. She ponders some more and then calls. I am only very slightly concerned, more confused as to what she has and how she can possibly think she is anywhere near winning - and I am already thinking about what I can do on the river - especially as Leigh has just popped downstairs to see how I am getting on, so it will be nice to scoop a monster pot in front of him.
The river comes a 2. She announces all in straight away.
'You are F***ING KIDDING ME???!!" I explete and get out of my chair and put my hands on my head.
This is sick. My immediate thought is quad 2s. That would make sense with the betting, but the chances are just so slim. Then I figure it's 2-7. That would make a lot more sense as far as the bet out goes on the flop, but would you really call a huge raise on a flush board with 2-7? Then I count what's in the middle. Over 10k. Her all in is 10.2k. My remaining stack is 12-and-a-bit-k. This is hideous.
I look at Leigh for inspiration, I wander round in my half a metre square for a bit more, bemoaning my luck. I am coming to the realisation she has hit a house and sucked me out. I kneel up on my chair and look back down at the pot again. Instead of seeing the 20k of chips in there already, I start hallucinating that I am seeing £2.5k, the cash that the winner will receive.
If I call and win, I will certainly be top 3 (I thought - I would have actually been chip leader by over 10k) and set up for this tournament; heck I'll have a great chance of at least cashing big and possibly winning the bloody thing. If I fold, I am back to under an average stack; still in of course, but I also know if I end up just clinging on and going out in some nonsensical way in 14th, not cashing and subsequently stuck in some crappy hotel in the arse end of Maidenhead, cos we missed the last train home by 10mins, I'll never get over it and will always wonder 'what if'.
If I call and lose I'm as good as out. I am so torn.
I sit on my knee on the chair again and lean right over and look her dead in the eye. "You haven't had another '7-2 special' have you?" I ask her. She starts chatting away, way too much, going on about 'well I was in the blind.... blah, blah, blah...' This is far too cocky. She's barely spoken at all the whole tournament. Why is she speaking now? Anyway it's not 7-2. The possibility of a king high flush crosses my mind again briefly, but she must have a 2, the river card wasn't even on its back before her chips crossed the line. Ok, then could it be a set of 2s with an ace kicker?... I so want to call.
I decide to throw my last die. I have never announced to anyone ever what I have before showdown, but I decide to tell her;
'This is horrible, I have the Nut Flush', I say.
She sits up and looks at the board and actually looks concerned. If she was acting, give the girl a flipping Oscar. I will never be sure if she even saw the flush draw, the whole board was black until the 2 of diamonds came, it's possible she could have missed it.
This is enough for me. I convince myself she has a set of 2's and thinks that's good enough, so I call and throw my cards in, just for confirmation.
She turns her face down. The 2 is shown first.
And then a Queen.
I am distraught. First and foremost that my tournament is (effectively) over, second that it was a hand I never considered and lastly, the real knife in the back, I have just been done by my (now former) favourite hand.
I sense sympathy from around the table. The nice Yorkie says 'if you hadn't see her play 7-2 you would never have considered it, would you'. She seems genuinely sorry for me.
I shake my head, my shoulders have gone down, I look at Leigh and say out loud 'what could I have done with that?'. I put my head back on the top of the back of my chair and look up at the ceiling and the yellow '6' hanging above the table. I can feel a lump in my throat starting to develop. I am starting to cry so I pull my shades over my eyes and put my head down. I confirm to myslef that I have less than 1800 left.
And oh, to add insult to injury, I hear 'your big blind madam...'
I resist the temptation to shove petulantly with my 6-3 and with the J-4 I get in the small blind next hand. But the one after that, when it is folded round to me and I see K-7 with only a couple left to get through, I get them in.
I hear 'all in' behind me, for 5k.
I put my chip protector in my pocket and start to put my jumper on.
K-7 v 10s. No Kings come.
I hear genuine 'unlucky' and 'well played' around the table, and sense some melancholy for me.
I muster a 'thank you, well played, good luck everyone' but all I want to do is get out of there as quickly as I can.
I get outside and burst into tears properly. Leigh joins me and I bury my head into his chest and don't want to come out. I request a pint for the road in The Vine 'old man pub' just next door. We have plenty of time for the bloody train.
I am still of course going through that hand over and over in my head and I know I won't get over it for a while, but I do keep coming back to the assessment of 'No regrets'. I gave it a go and gambled properly, for the first time, arguably in my poker 'career'. Of course, I could have folded (knowing what I know now, in relation to the stage of the game and comparitive stack sizes etc, it's becoming a much more stone cold, if massively painful, fold) - but I'd probably still hate it more if I had folded and then done something ridiculous like bubbling. That spot in the tournament though was reserved for the girl with the Q2 full house that beat me.... Laughed??! I nearly fell off the sofa!!
So, it seems I am going to be a ladies poker 'circuit' player, and I am quite excited about it. I know I can compete, I played some of the best stuff of my life last night and it came down to one hand. Another day, I'm certain I can at least cash in this format, so I am going to chase the dream. Starting in Birmingham on September 4th.
And I think I would quite like to join the club, if they'll have me.
"What you've got to be aware of is, someone at some point is going to make a call with a nonsense hand and suck you out and it'll be how much you lose and how you deal with it that will be important", he said, wisely.
So we toddled off to Paddington, me at times with my stomach in a knot wanting to hurl and exhaling heavily, at other times, feeling pretty good and relaxed about the whole affair and actually pretty excited to be getting a shot at likely 2.5k first prize for my 40 quid satellite investment (plus 12 quid for the train fares and 6 quid in Starbucks).
When we got there, we walked into literally a cafe (wasn't even sure they did wine until I asked the lady at the 'bar'; thankfully she answered in the affirmative), we registered as members of the club so Leigh could play cash or a SNG in the 'man creche' upstairs. I reg'd for the tournament downstairs, just by announcing my name; everything had been taken care of. Marvelous.
Lack of Betfred sponsor badge, though, that I was hoping to, be given for qualifiying through their site. That would have settled some nerves, so, in the absence of that, I went back upstairs and tucked into a glass of vin blanc and went and sat away from the 'in' crowd, the core, the club, who all knew each other very well, it seemed. There were some other 'outsiders' sat on individual tables opposite their respective obedient husbands, boyfriends, partners, bag carriers. I resolved to just smile politely at as many people as possible and speak if I was spoken to.
We were half an hour late starting as a number of (I'm guessing important) people had been stuck in traffic on the motorway, but when we did get going, I was sat on table 6, seat 4.
I was asked just before we started by seat 1 if I was Leshia. I said yes, pulled a quizzical face and asked how she knew (she pointed to the seating plan. Ah, yes. Blonde....) She introduced herself as 'Polly' (Paula); turns out I had been on her table in the satellite on Thursday. She said 'So you won a seat then?' I said yes. She said I had played really well (loudly enough that the table heard - I could have kissed her). I said thank you graciously.
I plopped my free keyring and branded lipsalve ito my handbag (apparently everyone used to get a polo shirt or at least a chip protector in years gone by; recession poker tour, clearly...) and then we were off.
There were a couple of nice, clearly experienced, seemingly mutually known and respected ladies in seat 2 and 3, a very quiet, pretty oriental girl in 5, a lady who looked familiar to me in 6, but it might have just been her hair. That kind of perm you don't forget. There was a lady I think called Jackie in seat 7, another one of the club members, I think; I don't remember her having much humour. I found out 10-15 mins in that seat 8 was 'MrsLewy' from the other night, still don't know her real name. And seat 9 was empty at the start, but was to be filled in due course by a slender lady with blonde hair who I was convinced I had at some point played cricket against, but I never got the chance to ask.
I think I won the second pot of the day, calling a raise from the big blind from the oriental lady. I had K-10 and my 10 hit the flop so I bet and was called. Blank on the river so I bet again, with feeling this time. She folded. Not sure why I was shaking, I was confident I was ahead. Even when she had folded I couldn't grip some of the chips to stack them up. I asked Leigh, who had nodded his approval to me, for glass of wine number 3 (in a tall glass so it would fit into the drink holder in the table). So much for switching to coffee...
I was getting lots of respect when I was betting which was pleasing. I was generally hitting, but a couple of bluff leads on the flop were getting through too. I, unusually, didn't count my stack for a good hour. I will admit I thought I was doing better than my chip stack could attest to when I did count up, so I decided to slow down a bit, on both the betting and the drinking. I was, though, as confident as I have ever been at a poker table and really enjoying it, making acquaintances if not firm friends (this lot were FAR chattier than my table at EPT last year). I was keeping people amused above the rail while playing serious-looking poker below it, which seemed to be working for me all-round.
Then I had the chance to take someone out. I am still 50/50 on this decision. I had raised from half way round with pocket 7s. The short stack, who I think was in the big blind shoved for 2.5k more. I had 7k at the time. She had been all in I think twice before, winning once with a big Ace and having it folded back to her the other.
I counted out the 2.5k which would leave me 4.5k if I lost (only 1500 less than we started with); blinds were still tiny. I guessed she could have found a big(ger) pair, but equally she could have had AK, AQ, AJ, possibly even A-10 and all I'd need to do is dodge cards, rather than find them. I really wanted to call, part for the potential financial reward, but also partly (and arguably mostly) to set a tone that I had come to play.
So in they went.
She had 10s and they held up. Everyone seemed to understand my logic, anyway and there weren't too many eyebrows obviously raised.
Only 2 hands later, I called an average raise with pocket 9s from the big blind, I think. Flop came down A clubs, 9 hearts, Q clubs.
The whole time (white-wine-guzzling-notwithstanding) I had been playing very thoughtfully and much slower than usual (in fact I think much slower than anyone else at the table); I was really thinking through all my options every time, what had happened before in that hand, and with that player in general, was it a time to make a move? What will make this hand end when I want it to and with the result I'm looking for?
Anyway, I elected to min bet my set, rather than what I'd normally do which is check. With 2 over cards out there and a flush draw I wanted to get a feel for where I was and, if I was then sure I was ahead, get the most out of it I could.
My bet was immediately raised I think 2.5 times by the perm in seat 6. The other player in the hand, the sweet friendly club member in seat 2 re-raised her to half my remaining stack.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm......
Old, scared, negative, fast-acting Leeshy probably would have already folded. But, as I had come to play, and play positively, there was no way in the world I was going to fold. So the only other option was to get them in. I knew it straight away, but didn't do it for a bit, making out I was having an internal argument with myself and I wasn't sure my hand was good (possibly representing A-9 or AK).
The words 'I'm all in' got a tad stuck in my throat when I announced them (wasn't faking that, I was going to be so gutted if it was to end there, I was having so much fun). The raiser got out of the way (figure she was drawing to the flush), the re-raiser immediately picked up chips (gulp), asked how much (oh dear, but ok, if she needs a count...) and called (here we go then).
I flipped my 9s and leapt out of my seat. I was pretty sure she'd show A-Q and she duly did. I crossed fingers on both hands and held them in front of my mouth, saying quietly 'no queens, no aces... please.... no queens, no aces'.
The dealer thankfully obliged. 'Yay' I squeaked, quietly.
At the first break (free dinner buffet of chilli or chicken/cream stroganoff-y thing included! - the day just got better and better!), I had just under 12k, double what they were saying the average was, not that I pay too much attention to that. I think we had lost 12 or 13 of the 63 starters. I was beaming, was a little light headed from the wine, but relaxed and in control and loving it. The all-in aside, I hadn't been under too much pressure and don't think I had done anything silly and had generally played well and positively, and couldn't wait to get back.
The personnel at the table had changed slightly. The oriental girl next to me who never got going and had been busted out had been replaced by another club member, seat 7 had become an older blonde woman in a polo shirt who looked like a younger version of my nan, seat 9 was now filled by a young pretty northern exile, with long dark hair who had a big stack and clearly hadn't built it up by accident; I thought she was very good. Thankfully she seemed to like me, wanted to chat across the table about Yorkshire and cash games and we held I think a significant amount of mutual respect for each other. Then in seat 1, a lady again from the north (Leeds I guessed from her accent but didn't ask to confirm it), who had played in a number of these legs but wasn't seemingly in the club. She was very slender and drawn, dressed every conservatively, was a little shakey and confessed she never played online as she 'and computers don't get on'. She had also, early on in that level, played 2-7 from the big blind and flopped an full house, playing it very aggressively, (betting out the flop and re-re-raising, the turn I think) and got full value out of my nan's doppelganger, with an all in on the river, which had swelled her stack.
I started well, picking up a few hands, hitting some flops and a couple of bluffs. I got KK for the 2nd time of the evening (I had played it strong before, having had a call from the pretty girl in 9, pre flop, but she folded on the flop with a paired 10 board and another meaningful bet from me). This time I was faced with a raise for c3.5 x BB from the same pretty girl. Conveniently, the nice lady from TC's came round with sweets just at that moment, so, with a mouthful of humbug sticking my teeth together, I announced 'wleRe-Raiseh' and made it double her bet (eventually. I can't count, especially when people bet odd numbers like 1725 so I think I threw in 3350 or something - it looked like a lot of chips anyway, so figured it would be enough. ...Then I put in 100 too many trying to make the bet up, at the dealer's request. I apologised sincerely as I wasn't playing or acting, I just genuinely can't add up).
Anyway, brilliantly, the waitress also came by just at this time, so I took the opportunity to look disinterested in what seat 9 was going to do and confidently ordered myself another white wine. She (seat 9, not the waitress) tried to look at me but didn't hold it for too long and smiled. I just stared right back, serious as you like. She folded after a time. Very sensible, although I was actually quite relived, just in case an A had come on the flop, as I'd have been in no man's land then against her (and her stack), regardless if she'd had one or not.
We had lost about half the field by now and it must have been just after 8pm, around another hour til the next break (I wondered if we were going to get cheesecake at that one...)
Then I think the very next hand I was dealt 5s in the BB and decided to check. The blinds had just gone up, so when I made my min bet on the flop of I think 3, 7, 6 rainbow, I was 100 short. Thankfully the dealer and everyone else had good humour about it. Only my nan called. Check, check the turn and a queen on the river, which I checked, allowing her to bet 2k into what I counted up to be a 3k pot. I screwed up my face, not because I didn't like it, just cos it made no sense. It reeked of trying to nick it and again I instantly wanted to call. But I stopped myself and thought it through logically. Limped in, yes; Queen-9 or something, yes of course possibly. Might have hit the middle cards, of course, but she'd have raised the flop or bet the turn surely? And if she wanted me to call, she'd have bet 1200-1800 into that relatively small pot. I was talking to myself the whole time out loud and I didn't care. I wanted to get it right (and hopefully make sure everyone else thought I was an intelligent player). I did call and she shrugged like 'you got me', so I flipped over my 5s and she nodded, but also showed the busted straight draw.
So now I was up to 17k, possibly just the chip leader on our table and I figured had to at least be in the top 15 of the 34 or so left, taking a cursory glance around the room (I have since discovered from the Rock Poker live update partner site that I was in fact in the top 3 - and there were loads of 4-6k stacks around).
Then I was dealt A-8 spades, 2nd to act I think. I called and there was no more than 1 call behind until the blinds. Can't remember if the girl in seat 1 was big or small blind but she made up the difference or checked.
Flop came down 2, 7, 4 I think (the four might have been a 5) but there were 2 spades. Seat 1 bet out, I called and the remaining player got out of the way. Queen of spades on the turn; happy days are here again! Nut flush! Whoo-hoo. Seat 1 puts out a really rather chunky bet (a little shakily). Oookkaayyyyyyy..... Think, Hawkins, think, what might she have and how are we going to get lots of chips coming our way?
Her bet was I think 1400-1500. Has she a flush too? That would be awesome! Has she a set? This is also splendid news. Either way, it's going to cost her a lot of money to see a river card. Or we can just end it here. I don't really mind. So I raise. To around 3.5k. She looks like she is going to fold. She fiddles with her cards, she picks up some chips, she plays with them for a bit. She ponders some more and then calls. I am only very slightly concerned, more confused as to what she has and how she can possibly think she is anywhere near winning - and I am already thinking about what I can do on the river - especially as Leigh has just popped downstairs to see how I am getting on, so it will be nice to scoop a monster pot in front of him.
The river comes a 2. She announces all in straight away.
'You are F***ING KIDDING ME???!!" I explete and get out of my chair and put my hands on my head.
This is sick. My immediate thought is quad 2s. That would make sense with the betting, but the chances are just so slim. Then I figure it's 2-7. That would make a lot more sense as far as the bet out goes on the flop, but would you really call a huge raise on a flush board with 2-7? Then I count what's in the middle. Over 10k. Her all in is 10.2k. My remaining stack is 12-and-a-bit-k. This is hideous.
I look at Leigh for inspiration, I wander round in my half a metre square for a bit more, bemoaning my luck. I am coming to the realisation she has hit a house and sucked me out. I kneel up on my chair and look back down at the pot again. Instead of seeing the 20k of chips in there already, I start hallucinating that I am seeing £2.5k, the cash that the winner will receive.
If I call and win, I will certainly be top 3 (I thought - I would have actually been chip leader by over 10k) and set up for this tournament; heck I'll have a great chance of at least cashing big and possibly winning the bloody thing. If I fold, I am back to under an average stack; still in of course, but I also know if I end up just clinging on and going out in some nonsensical way in 14th, not cashing and subsequently stuck in some crappy hotel in the arse end of Maidenhead, cos we missed the last train home by 10mins, I'll never get over it and will always wonder 'what if'.
If I call and lose I'm as good as out. I am so torn.
I sit on my knee on the chair again and lean right over and look her dead in the eye. "You haven't had another '7-2 special' have you?" I ask her. She starts chatting away, way too much, going on about 'well I was in the blind.... blah, blah, blah...' This is far too cocky. She's barely spoken at all the whole tournament. Why is she speaking now? Anyway it's not 7-2. The possibility of a king high flush crosses my mind again briefly, but she must have a 2, the river card wasn't even on its back before her chips crossed the line. Ok, then could it be a set of 2s with an ace kicker?... I so want to call.
I decide to throw my last die. I have never announced to anyone ever what I have before showdown, but I decide to tell her;
'This is horrible, I have the Nut Flush', I say.
She sits up and looks at the board and actually looks concerned. If she was acting, give the girl a flipping Oscar. I will never be sure if she even saw the flush draw, the whole board was black until the 2 of diamonds came, it's possible she could have missed it.
This is enough for me. I convince myself she has a set of 2's and thinks that's good enough, so I call and throw my cards in, just for confirmation.
She turns her face down. The 2 is shown first.
And then a Queen.
I am distraught. First and foremost that my tournament is (effectively) over, second that it was a hand I never considered and lastly, the real knife in the back, I have just been done by my (now former) favourite hand.
I sense sympathy from around the table. The nice Yorkie says 'if you hadn't see her play 7-2 you would never have considered it, would you'. She seems genuinely sorry for me.
I shake my head, my shoulders have gone down, I look at Leigh and say out loud 'what could I have done with that?'. I put my head back on the top of the back of my chair and look up at the ceiling and the yellow '6' hanging above the table. I can feel a lump in my throat starting to develop. I am starting to cry so I pull my shades over my eyes and put my head down. I confirm to myslef that I have less than 1800 left.
And oh, to add insult to injury, I hear 'your big blind madam...'
I resist the temptation to shove petulantly with my 6-3 and with the J-4 I get in the small blind next hand. But the one after that, when it is folded round to me and I see K-7 with only a couple left to get through, I get them in.
I hear 'all in' behind me, for 5k.
I put my chip protector in my pocket and start to put my jumper on.
K-7 v 10s. No Kings come.
I hear genuine 'unlucky' and 'well played' around the table, and sense some melancholy for me.
I muster a 'thank you, well played, good luck everyone' but all I want to do is get out of there as quickly as I can.
I get outside and burst into tears properly. Leigh joins me and I bury my head into his chest and don't want to come out. I request a pint for the road in The Vine 'old man pub' just next door. We have plenty of time for the bloody train.
I am still of course going through that hand over and over in my head and I know I won't get over it for a while, but I do keep coming back to the assessment of 'No regrets'. I gave it a go and gambled properly, for the first time, arguably in my poker 'career'. Of course, I could have folded (knowing what I know now, in relation to the stage of the game and comparitive stack sizes etc, it's becoming a much more stone cold, if massively painful, fold) - but I'd probably still hate it more if I had folded and then done something ridiculous like bubbling. That spot in the tournament though was reserved for the girl with the Q2 full house that beat me.... Laughed??! I nearly fell off the sofa!!
So, it seems I am going to be a ladies poker 'circuit' player, and I am quite excited about it. I know I can compete, I played some of the best stuff of my life last night and it came down to one hand. Another day, I'm certain I can at least cash in this format, so I am going to chase the dream. Starting in Birmingham on September 4th.
And I think I would quite like to join the club, if they'll have me.
Friday 6 August 2010
Fast Track to Fred
So I think it's fair to say, I'm back.
With nothing better to do I decided to have a last training run before Saturday's BFLPT appearance. I loaded up PKR but there were no sizeable tournaments starting for ages so I was drawn to downloading the BetFred software and having a look around there. What should I happen upon? Only a 10 quid rebuy satellite to the Maidenhead (or any other) live event.
I figured it would be rude not to play and see what I'd be possibly up against, so I deposited 15 quid first, then immediately realised if I was going to do it properly, I would need at least 20 and possibly 30 so plopped some more in there and scuttled off to a practice table to get used to the set up of the screen, where the various key buttons were, and what prompts there were, so I didn't make a stupid move in the real thing.
I sat down on a half-full table with my 2k starting stack and decided to come out aggressive and see how I did, knowing there was unlimited re-buy in the first hour and a top up after that - and made some decent headway and started to think it was easy.
Then everyone else started playing properly and I ended up making a very stubborn and silly call for all my 4-5k stack half way through that first hour, when I had convinced myself my 2-3 2-pair was good on a board of 2-3-4-8-9, only she had a set of 4's. I can be so thick sometimes.
Then right before the add-on break my K-Q ran into KK on a A-K-6-2-A board. At least I had sussed out he didn't have an A, but was still pretty tricky to get away from, especially at that stage in the tourny.
So another re-buy and top up 1 hand later and I re-started in the bottom 3/4, with 4k. I think the chipleader had 12k or so at this point.
During freezeout, I tended to hover between 7th-12th, not doing anything spectacular, but keeping within touching distance. The big hand was my J-10 in a 4-way hand with all 4 limping. I was delighted to flop a straight with a 9-Q-K board (thank God this was an online tournament, my eyes might as well have popped out of my head). I cooly checked first to act and was met with a min bet, call and call. I raised 4 times and had a fold, fold, all in behind. I thought long enough to say to myself (out loud) 'I'm not folding that' and called. She (although 'she' had a 'he' avatar) showed Aces. I think another K came on the turn but the river was a blank and I was propelled up the rankings.
Antes appeared not long after and I was happily able to play half decent Ks and Qs and bet at the flop (I was hitting most of them) and mopping up up to 2k a time, making it even easier to push people around.
By the final table, I was 2nd and someway ahead of 3rd, way ahead of the rest. I'll admit I wimped out of calling an all in for just under a third of my stack with pocket 6s. Thankfully someone else did and she hit her jack, to vindicate me and get rid of another one.
I managed to hit the front and although swapped around from 1st to 3rd for a while after that, there was no way I was giving them up. The ladies seemed to mostly know each other by first name and were nattering away in the chat box to each other, which at the start concerned me that I had gatecrashed someone else's party and I was in above my head, then annoyed me that it was so clique-y. But then they started asking who I was, and were very politely enquiring as to whether I was going to be playing on Saturday and saying they looked forward to meeting me. I tried to be my charming self (and made sure I showed my big hands when I raised pre-flop and took the pot), in case they were taking notes (I am so blatantly flattering myself aren't I?!).
Anyway, I ended up with 40k, 10k ahead of 2nd when the tickets were all awarded. I did my obligatory midnight dance around the living room in my nightie and txtd Leigh to let him know.
It was a tiny tourny, I know, it was against all girls, I know, but those girls clearly play alot on 'the circuit' and I have just competed with them. Better than that, I was beating them when they switched the tournament off (and I have saved myself 70 quid on the buy in, which will cover the train and hotel bed, if I need one).
How nice would it be for a repeat of that tomorrow?
With nothing better to do I decided to have a last training run before Saturday's BFLPT appearance. I loaded up PKR but there were no sizeable tournaments starting for ages so I was drawn to downloading the BetFred software and having a look around there. What should I happen upon? Only a 10 quid rebuy satellite to the Maidenhead (or any other) live event.
I figured it would be rude not to play and see what I'd be possibly up against, so I deposited 15 quid first, then immediately realised if I was going to do it properly, I would need at least 20 and possibly 30 so plopped some more in there and scuttled off to a practice table to get used to the set up of the screen, where the various key buttons were, and what prompts there were, so I didn't make a stupid move in the real thing.
I sat down on a half-full table with my 2k starting stack and decided to come out aggressive and see how I did, knowing there was unlimited re-buy in the first hour and a top up after that - and made some decent headway and started to think it was easy.
Then everyone else started playing properly and I ended up making a very stubborn and silly call for all my 4-5k stack half way through that first hour, when I had convinced myself my 2-3 2-pair was good on a board of 2-3-4-8-9, only she had a set of 4's. I can be so thick sometimes.
Then right before the add-on break my K-Q ran into KK on a A-K-6-2-A board. At least I had sussed out he didn't have an A, but was still pretty tricky to get away from, especially at that stage in the tourny.
So another re-buy and top up 1 hand later and I re-started in the bottom 3/4, with 4k. I think the chipleader had 12k or so at this point.
During freezeout, I tended to hover between 7th-12th, not doing anything spectacular, but keeping within touching distance. The big hand was my J-10 in a 4-way hand with all 4 limping. I was delighted to flop a straight with a 9-Q-K board (thank God this was an online tournament, my eyes might as well have popped out of my head). I cooly checked first to act and was met with a min bet, call and call. I raised 4 times and had a fold, fold, all in behind. I thought long enough to say to myself (out loud) 'I'm not folding that' and called. She (although 'she' had a 'he' avatar) showed Aces. I think another K came on the turn but the river was a blank and I was propelled up the rankings.
Antes appeared not long after and I was happily able to play half decent Ks and Qs and bet at the flop (I was hitting most of them) and mopping up up to 2k a time, making it even easier to push people around.
By the final table, I was 2nd and someway ahead of 3rd, way ahead of the rest. I'll admit I wimped out of calling an all in for just under a third of my stack with pocket 6s. Thankfully someone else did and she hit her jack, to vindicate me and get rid of another one.
I managed to hit the front and although swapped around from 1st to 3rd for a while after that, there was no way I was giving them up. The ladies seemed to mostly know each other by first name and were nattering away in the chat box to each other, which at the start concerned me that I had gatecrashed someone else's party and I was in above my head, then annoyed me that it was so clique-y. But then they started asking who I was, and were very politely enquiring as to whether I was going to be playing on Saturday and saying they looked forward to meeting me. I tried to be my charming self (and made sure I showed my big hands when I raised pre-flop and took the pot), in case they were taking notes (I am so blatantly flattering myself aren't I?!).
Anyway, I ended up with 40k, 10k ahead of 2nd when the tickets were all awarded. I did my obligatory midnight dance around the living room in my nightie and txtd Leigh to let him know.
It was a tiny tourny, I know, it was against all girls, I know, but those girls clearly play alot on 'the circuit' and I have just competed with them. Better than that, I was beating them when they switched the tournament off (and I have saved myself 70 quid on the buy in, which will cover the train and hotel bed, if I need one).
How nice would it be for a repeat of that tomorrow?
Thursday 5 August 2010
Welcome Return
I flipped open the laptop with much trepidation last night, although feeling a bit more refreshed and (admittedly blind-faith) positive about poker. I thought I'd give an MTT or Sit-n-Go a go, and, on the basis of this (how I played and fared), would make the call on whether to go for it in the Betfred Ladies Poker Tour in Maidenhead on Saturday.
I was fortunate enough to find a 53-entry tourny; perfect size compared to Saturday's likely field, albeit with much quicker blinds and much shorter starting stack.
PKR has had a bit of a makeover recently; some of which I like (such as the chip graphs for all the players in the tournament and the 'bet half the pot' button, saving my brain from having to enter into any mathematical exercise, and saving me from my eternal struggle with the bet 'slider' without the benefit of mouse) - but some which seems to be a bit too much, like when Tony Hart used to have a really nice painting in front of him, but didn't know when to stop fiddling and then ruined it trying to be too clever.
Anyway, a couple of bluffs early doors got through, while everyone was still a bit cagey, but then I managed to lose a third of my stack when my ace hit on the river, completing my top 2 pair (AQ), only to realise the girl did have what I thought she did (a pair of 10s which had completed their set on the flop and housed on the turn when the 2nd 8 hit the board). I am going to take a positive that I was at least thinking about what she probably had and what she'd have called/checked with. I'd like to think if the A hadn't come on the end, and I only had the 2 pairs Qs and 8s with an A kicker, I'd have laid them down on that board with that kind of bet on the end, but if I'm honest with myself, I can't be 100% sure.
Then I went on a bit of a downward spiral just as the blinds and antes started to make a difference, not only to my stack but also to how people were playing.
I am not proud of this of course, but I actually managed to get down to $195 at one point and was all in blind in the big blind (with 7-2), just billgerantly and desperately clinging on and not just giving it up, throwing them in with J-4.
Happily, my 7-2 hit a 2 and another 2 on the turn and river, to suck out 3 other players, giving me some breathing space. I also somehow managed a walk the next time the big blind came round, which I wasn't going to pass up either.
Having built the stack back up again and with one massive swing hand where my Queens held up, I could then afford to pick on shorter stacks around me with big raises pre-flop or chunky C-bets, to pick up some lucrative blinds and antes, giving me more than enough to keep my head above water, while others got silly or had to push and pray.
I finally finished 5th of 53, relieved more than anything, but also rather chuffed with myself for actually managing to combine playing really rather thoughtfully and positively, yet aggressively enough when necessary, and equally properly stubbornly.
So that'll be a trip to Berkshire on Saturday then.
I was fortunate enough to find a 53-entry tourny; perfect size compared to Saturday's likely field, albeit with much quicker blinds and much shorter starting stack.
PKR has had a bit of a makeover recently; some of which I like (such as the chip graphs for all the players in the tournament and the 'bet half the pot' button, saving my brain from having to enter into any mathematical exercise, and saving me from my eternal struggle with the bet 'slider' without the benefit of mouse) - but some which seems to be a bit too much, like when Tony Hart used to have a really nice painting in front of him, but didn't know when to stop fiddling and then ruined it trying to be too clever.
Anyway, a couple of bluffs early doors got through, while everyone was still a bit cagey, but then I managed to lose a third of my stack when my ace hit on the river, completing my top 2 pair (AQ), only to realise the girl did have what I thought she did (a pair of 10s which had completed their set on the flop and housed on the turn when the 2nd 8 hit the board). I am going to take a positive that I was at least thinking about what she probably had and what she'd have called/checked with. I'd like to think if the A hadn't come on the end, and I only had the 2 pairs Qs and 8s with an A kicker, I'd have laid them down on that board with that kind of bet on the end, but if I'm honest with myself, I can't be 100% sure.
Then I went on a bit of a downward spiral just as the blinds and antes started to make a difference, not only to my stack but also to how people were playing.
I am not proud of this of course, but I actually managed to get down to $195 at one point and was all in blind in the big blind (with 7-2), just billgerantly and desperately clinging on and not just giving it up, throwing them in with J-4.
Happily, my 7-2 hit a 2 and another 2 on the turn and river, to suck out 3 other players, giving me some breathing space. I also somehow managed a walk the next time the big blind came round, which I wasn't going to pass up either.
Having built the stack back up again and with one massive swing hand where my Queens held up, I could then afford to pick on shorter stacks around me with big raises pre-flop or chunky C-bets, to pick up some lucrative blinds and antes, giving me more than enough to keep my head above water, while others got silly or had to push and pray.
I finally finished 5th of 53, relieved more than anything, but also rather chuffed with myself for actually managing to combine playing really rather thoughtfully and positively, yet aggressively enough when necessary, and equally properly stubbornly.
So that'll be a trip to Berkshire on Saturday then.
Monday 2 August 2010
Rock. Me. Hard Place
It could be the biggest opportunity of my life. I could, however, be taking 10 crisp 10 pound notes (+ one other) and flushing them down the proverbial toilet/pi$$ing them up the proverbial wall.
The Betfred Ladies Poker Tour comes to Maidenhead this weekend (I can't make the London leg sadly, as, because of a most unusual blip in my forward planning, I have double booked myself with the England-New Zealand autumn rugby International). Looking at the legs that have happened so far, there's been on average 60-80 entrants, with the nice people at Betfred topping up the prize pool by another 1500 quid each time, so some of the winners have not only got themselves a seat to the grand final (the winner of which getting a 20k sponsorship deal with Fred) but also up to a tidy 3k too. And they pay the first 10 places, regardless of entry numbers.
I am now stuck. I am playing like a total arse and am really down on the game at the moment. However, if I don't go and try, I will no doubt forever be wondering 'what if'.
For a girl who stands by the 'only regret stuff you haven't done' mantra, I think I know which way I am going to go. I just need my poker fairy Godmother right now to tell me I'm doing the right thing.
The Betfred Ladies Poker Tour comes to Maidenhead this weekend (I can't make the London leg sadly, as, because of a most unusual blip in my forward planning, I have double booked myself with the England-New Zealand autumn rugby International). Looking at the legs that have happened so far, there's been on average 60-80 entrants, with the nice people at Betfred topping up the prize pool by another 1500 quid each time, so some of the winners have not only got themselves a seat to the grand final (the winner of which getting a 20k sponsorship deal with Fred) but also up to a tidy 3k too. And they pay the first 10 places, regardless of entry numbers.
I am now stuck. I am playing like a total arse and am really down on the game at the moment. However, if I don't go and try, I will no doubt forever be wondering 'what if'.
For a girl who stands by the 'only regret stuff you haven't done' mantra, I think I know which way I am going to go. I just need my poker fairy Godmother right now to tell me I'm doing the right thing.
Friday 30 July 2010
Marriage Guidance
If there were an organisation like Relate for poker players, I'd be booking me and the game a session now; We seem to be in a routine, the spark has most definitely gone and I am approaching it with a painfully pesimistic half-heartedness.
Put simply, I am playing like a middle-aged woman.
I had the (mis-)fortune to be dealt AK suited 1st hand and when my half pot bet into a paired board of Jacks and semi-connectors was massively re-raised on the river, I kinda had to fold. But having seen him play after, hindsight suggests I may just have been ahead.
I saw no pocket pairs all night (well the 2 hours I lasted for), not even sure I hit a flop - and, in fairness, only one hand I had would have won at showdown (5-9 diamonds which I folded pre flop but flushed on the river).
I gambled with value from blinds or late position with pretty marginal jacks and queens but got nowhere and, with a huge stack to my left and another live one a couple of seats further down, I couldn't really get busy, certainly not when the picture cards totally dried up.
The blinds seemed disproportionately painful for the early hour and I hit the break only marginally above half my starting stack, not having been given shove-able cards in the buy-back period.
I resolved a change of chip protector, letting my ponytail down and switching from water to my habitual chardonnay was in order. I had to try something. But one double up and the tournament would have a significantly different complexion.
Upon our return, I folded A-6 and A-5 off, multi-handed or against a raise of half my stack from early position. Yes, probably wus-y girlie folds where the pros would have been all-in in a heartbeat, but I just didn't feel it. Maybe this is part of the problem?
Then, not long after, again following a raise of 1100 under the gun with blinds still only 200-400, I saw KQ spades. Fully expecting (and hoping for) a call, I shove. I am up against K-J off. I should have been delighted but my heart sank. Never under-estimate women's intuition. We are very infrequently wrong.
I have my now traditional plea with the dealer to 'be nice', cos I feel like I should use all my remaining 'armour'.
Blanks on the flop; Rainbow. No spades, of course.
Jack, of course, on the turn.
Blank 2 on the river.
A polite 'good game' from my left, a sheepish look from the man with the Jack. A handshake and a 'good luck, everyone' from me.
What is a middle-aged woman to do? Not go play cash, that's for sure.
Put simply, I am playing like a middle-aged woman.
I had the (mis-)fortune to be dealt AK suited 1st hand and when my half pot bet into a paired board of Jacks and semi-connectors was massively re-raised on the river, I kinda had to fold. But having seen him play after, hindsight suggests I may just have been ahead.
I saw no pocket pairs all night (well the 2 hours I lasted for), not even sure I hit a flop - and, in fairness, only one hand I had would have won at showdown (5-9 diamonds which I folded pre flop but flushed on the river).
I gambled with value from blinds or late position with pretty marginal jacks and queens but got nowhere and, with a huge stack to my left and another live one a couple of seats further down, I couldn't really get busy, certainly not when the picture cards totally dried up.
The blinds seemed disproportionately painful for the early hour and I hit the break only marginally above half my starting stack, not having been given shove-able cards in the buy-back period.
I resolved a change of chip protector, letting my ponytail down and switching from water to my habitual chardonnay was in order. I had to try something. But one double up and the tournament would have a significantly different complexion.
Upon our return, I folded A-6 and A-5 off, multi-handed or against a raise of half my stack from early position. Yes, probably wus-y girlie folds where the pros would have been all-in in a heartbeat, but I just didn't feel it. Maybe this is part of the problem?
Then, not long after, again following a raise of 1100 under the gun with blinds still only 200-400, I saw KQ spades. Fully expecting (and hoping for) a call, I shove. I am up against K-J off. I should have been delighted but my heart sank. Never under-estimate women's intuition. We are very infrequently wrong.
I have my now traditional plea with the dealer to 'be nice', cos I feel like I should use all my remaining 'armour'.
Blanks on the flop; Rainbow. No spades, of course.
Jack, of course, on the turn.
Blank 2 on the river.
A polite 'good game' from my left, a sheepish look from the man with the Jack. A handshake and a 'good luck, everyone' from me.
What is a middle-aged woman to do? Not go play cash, that's for sure.
Comeback
After a good few weeks' absence, I am returning to the live tables tonight at LPC, with an online SNG cash and bubble to my name from Tuesday night of this week when there really genuinely wasn't anything better for me to do.
Can't say yet that I'm excited about it, sadly, but kinda needs to be done, otherwise I may lose my mojo indefinitely. Just craving a half decent run of cards to give me something to get creative with; I have my 'power' bra on, my hair was painstakingly straightened this morning (not that the cards will care about that, of course) and I have resolved to come out fighting as much as possible and see where we get to.
Everything crossed...
Can't say yet that I'm excited about it, sadly, but kinda needs to be done, otherwise I may lose my mojo indefinitely. Just craving a half decent run of cards to give me something to get creative with; I have my 'power' bra on, my hair was painstakingly straightened this morning (not that the cards will care about that, of course) and I have resolved to come out fighting as much as possible and see where we get to.
Everything crossed...
Monday 19 July 2010
Getting Better
Lovely evening with the 888 chaps, Shane Warne and invited VIPs, guests and media last night and I think it's fair to say poker and I are falling back in love again.
Gorgeous place The Red Room, part of Les Ambassadeurs club, Hyde Park Corner; elegant furnishings, lots of space, friendly people, not up its own ar$e at all as I totally expected it to be. The nice man in all black who was stood near the bar when I arrived - I guess he was some kind of host, although I thought he was security for a bit - came straight over and offered to give me a guided tour of the club; it was like a stately home indoors and a luxurious, holiday, adult playground outside - it was just missing a huge hot tub as far as I could see. The beautiful, exotic slender women in their sexy but classy after-dark-air-hostess-like attire brought round endless trays with tons of mini cheeseburgers, kebabs, prawns, scallops and other nibbles on. Schoolgirl error to have eaten just before coming out.
Roland de Wolfe strode in at about 8.15pm. As you do. He went over and patted Warne on the back and manly hand-shaking and banter ensued briefly, before he disappeared again like a genie ducking back into his lamp.
I think the majority of the players will admit the poker was, for the most part, loose and aggressive; one of the pros, 'fresh' from Vegas went out pretty early, closely followed by Warne who got them in way ahead but was sucked out. Then somehow 2 went together in a huge 3-way all in not long after.
There looked to be only realistically 1, maybe 2 winners, one of which was the big boss of 888 Poker, who I guess couldn't really win the 5k prize; well, I figure he wouldn't really call all ins for half his stack with 3-4 normally...
The whole tourny was over in around 2 hours, won by one of the 888 VIPs who isnt even playing that much at the moment and didn't go to WSOP because he couldn't be bothered(!) After the interviews, last photos etc, most people (the core drinkers/organisers) stayed around for a couple of hours more - there was only around 10 of us left by 11pm, hoovering up the last of the bar tab, but it was great, if a touch surreal, to just sit there, all in a circle, some pros, some journos, some marketeers, and just talk poker, life (and a bit of nonsense), but certainly like we'd known each other longer than 4 hours.
After a unanimous show of hands to gague interest in the group, we tried in vain to allow them to give us a set of cards, chips and the run of the vacated felt for a turbo SNG, but alas it was only added to the marketing notebook as an idea for 'next time'.
Still, good to see cards in the air and feel the excitement, even if only stood 2 metres away and without influence or consequence. Going to find an appropriate time and place to get back into it. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay mad at the game for long.
Gorgeous place The Red Room, part of Les Ambassadeurs club, Hyde Park Corner; elegant furnishings, lots of space, friendly people, not up its own ar$e at all as I totally expected it to be. The nice man in all black who was stood near the bar when I arrived - I guess he was some kind of host, although I thought he was security for a bit - came straight over and offered to give me a guided tour of the club; it was like a stately home indoors and a luxurious, holiday, adult playground outside - it was just missing a huge hot tub as far as I could see. The beautiful, exotic slender women in their sexy but classy after-dark-air-hostess-like attire brought round endless trays with tons of mini cheeseburgers, kebabs, prawns, scallops and other nibbles on. Schoolgirl error to have eaten just before coming out.
Roland de Wolfe strode in at about 8.15pm. As you do. He went over and patted Warne on the back and manly hand-shaking and banter ensued briefly, before he disappeared again like a genie ducking back into his lamp.
I think the majority of the players will admit the poker was, for the most part, loose and aggressive; one of the pros, 'fresh' from Vegas went out pretty early, closely followed by Warne who got them in way ahead but was sucked out. Then somehow 2 went together in a huge 3-way all in not long after.
There looked to be only realistically 1, maybe 2 winners, one of which was the big boss of 888 Poker, who I guess couldn't really win the 5k prize; well, I figure he wouldn't really call all ins for half his stack with 3-4 normally...
The whole tourny was over in around 2 hours, won by one of the 888 VIPs who isnt even playing that much at the moment and didn't go to WSOP because he couldn't be bothered(!) After the interviews, last photos etc, most people (the core drinkers/organisers) stayed around for a couple of hours more - there was only around 10 of us left by 11pm, hoovering up the last of the bar tab, but it was great, if a touch surreal, to just sit there, all in a circle, some pros, some journos, some marketeers, and just talk poker, life (and a bit of nonsense), but certainly like we'd known each other longer than 4 hours.
After a unanimous show of hands to gague interest in the group, we tried in vain to allow them to give us a set of cards, chips and the run of the vacated felt for a turbo SNG, but alas it was only added to the marketing notebook as an idea for 'next time'.
Still, good to see cards in the air and feel the excitement, even if only stood 2 metres away and without influence or consequence. Going to find an appropriate time and place to get back into it. I knew I wouldn't be able to stay mad at the game for long.
Thursday 15 July 2010
Medicine
I have never woken up with such excitement and bounded out of bed on a work day (with a slightly fuzzy head) as I did this morning.
My favourite placed candidate and industry sister, currently in Vegas with 888, had sent me an email overnight, which I read on blackberry, kindly inviting me to an exclusive soirée watching Shane Warne play in a cash game at Les Ambassadeurs club in Mayfair.
I can feel some curled hair, possibly even fake lashes, The Vegas Dress and orange heels coming on and, with any luck, this little experience will rid me of my current misgivings and frustrations about all things cards and chips and we can all be friends again soon.
My favourite placed candidate and industry sister, currently in Vegas with 888, had sent me an email overnight, which I read on blackberry, kindly inviting me to an exclusive soirée watching Shane Warne play in a cash game at Les Ambassadeurs club in Mayfair.
I can feel some curled hair, possibly even fake lashes, The Vegas Dress and orange heels coming on and, with any luck, this little experience will rid me of my current misgivings and frustrations about all things cards and chips and we can all be friends again soon.
Wednesday 14 July 2010
Me and Poker are 'on a break'
Ok, really bored, now I am at my aggressive best, of numpties making ridiculous calls and sucking me out on the river. I know it happens. I know I have BEEN that ridiculous numpty on occasion in the past, but this is beyond a joke now, it's happening EVERY time.
Good job this is not the WSOP main event and is just 24-seat SNGs in my nightie. But I am now starting to realise why Phil Helmuth is such a foul-mouthed little so n' so. If I'm not careful, I am going to become one of those sad cases that goes around telling everyone online poker is fixed. After the last few days, I am starting to half believe it. (Excuse me a moment while I go and wash my mouth out with soap and water).
I have resolved that I am going to take a break for a bit. I would like to stress that while poker and I are currently separated, we continue to work on our differences, in the best interests of my bank account. There no other card games involved and we would appreciate it if the media would respect our privacy at this difficult time.
I think possibly I will focus more on offline poker in the next couple of weeks - or play bigger stakes on PokerStars for a bit; technically that's the site where I've had the most monetary success per tournament (albeit mostly playing against other women). If only there wasn't so many tournaments to choose from, it's a bloody minefield that lobby - to the untrained eye, at least. Anyway, EPT qualifiers will hopefully start in the next month or so, so I will have an objective and some focus again.
Good job this is not the WSOP main event and is just 24-seat SNGs in my nightie. But I am now starting to realise why Phil Helmuth is such a foul-mouthed little so n' so. If I'm not careful, I am going to become one of those sad cases that goes around telling everyone online poker is fixed. After the last few days, I am starting to half believe it. (Excuse me a moment while I go and wash my mouth out with soap and water).
I have resolved that I am going to take a break for a bit. I would like to stress that while poker and I are currently separated, we continue to work on our differences, in the best interests of my bank account. There no other card games involved and we would appreciate it if the media would respect our privacy at this difficult time.
I think possibly I will focus more on offline poker in the next couple of weeks - or play bigger stakes on PokerStars for a bit; technically that's the site where I've had the most monetary success per tournament (albeit mostly playing against other women). If only there wasn't so many tournaments to choose from, it's a bloody minefield that lobby - to the untrained eye, at least. Anyway, EPT qualifiers will hopefully start in the next month or so, so I will have an objective and some focus again.
Monday 12 July 2010
Stuck in a rut
Had a very uppidy-downy few days of casual online sit n go's; been playing (I think) some really decent, intuitive and aggressive and brave stuff, but can't seem to buy a break to get into the money. I know it goes like this sometimes but am just not sure what to do to get out of it and get my mojo back. The only thing inspiring me at the moment is Poker Heroine number 2 Jennifer Tilly and her win at the Bellagio Cup in Las Vegas. Go on girl.
I am thinking possibly of some serious (hopefully) 2-day live action at LPC over the weekend; huge starting stack, teeny tiny blinds eeking up very slowly and a chance to play some proper poker. Never played in anything like that before, so would be an experience, for sure - will have to have a read up in advance though of strategies for such tournaments (other than banning red wine and having plenty of coffee and Starfruit-OpalBursts)
Ultimately, though, will depend what the weather's like and whether my sister and her husband, aka new Mummy and Daddy and their simply gorgeous daughter Penny want company. Otherwise the shades and strappy top will be on and I will be off to Buckinghamshire to coo like a trooper.
I am thinking possibly of some serious (hopefully) 2-day live action at LPC over the weekend; huge starting stack, teeny tiny blinds eeking up very slowly and a chance to play some proper poker. Never played in anything like that before, so would be an experience, for sure - will have to have a read up in advance though of strategies for such tournaments (other than banning red wine and having plenty of coffee and Starfruit-OpalBursts)
Ultimately, though, will depend what the weather's like and whether my sister and her husband, aka new Mummy and Daddy and their simply gorgeous daughter Penny want company. Otherwise the shades and strappy top will be on and I will be off to Buckinghamshire to coo like a trooper.
Thursday 8 July 2010
Decisions, decisions
Ooooh now then.
I-Gaming Social tonight at fancy pants Amika club in High Street Kensington. That will be no more than a stone's throw from the LPC. Iiiinterrressssting.
I can feel some cash action coming on; I wonder whether there are other attendees who are members? (other than Sarah, my unsuspecting colleague, whom I signed up on her behalf last week, by way of 'encouragement'). Not sure I have the energy to go drinking, then get the cab to Edgware Road and stay awake in the Vic for the necessary amount of time to make it financially worthwhile - and still get home, sleep, shower, straighten hair and be back at my desk, bacon sandwich on brown in hand, for 8.30am tomorrow.
No doubt the chardonnay and the company I am keeping will, between them, make those decisions for me later...
I-Gaming Social tonight at fancy pants Amika club in High Street Kensington. That will be no more than a stone's throw from the LPC. Iiiinterrressssting.
I can feel some cash action coming on; I wonder whether there are other attendees who are members? (other than Sarah, my unsuspecting colleague, whom I signed up on her behalf last week, by way of 'encouragement'). Not sure I have the energy to go drinking, then get the cab to Edgware Road and stay awake in the Vic for the necessary amount of time to make it financially worthwhile - and still get home, sleep, shower, straighten hair and be back at my desk, bacon sandwich on brown in hand, for 8.30am tomorrow.
No doubt the chardonnay and the company I am keeping will, between them, make those decisions for me later...
Friday 2 July 2010
If the Gods aint smilin'...
Am still undecided about whether to be disappointed tonight.
I managed to make a loose call first hand, from the small blind, on the flop and had to get rid on the turn. This served my reputation well though, 2nd hand in, when I was given kings and somehow managed to check-call the flop and turn and re-raise all in (with a call) on the river to double up very early doors, with the guy showing A-high on a paired board with a bunch of other blank looking under cards.
I got a tad playful with my riches and lost 1500 or so over the next hour, before I was moved away from my favourite LPC dealer Sean to table 2 from table 1. Always think it's bad karma being moved from what will be the final table and having to find your way back there again. I kinda had to call a quarter of my stack soon after arriving on table 2 when I was dealt 10s and up against an all-in from early position with a short stack. I was up against AJ. The dealer obeyed my demands of small cards all the way to the river and then plopped a jack out there. Not amused.
I wimped out of shoving with Q-10 suited later with a half decent raise and call already behind me. I chastised myself afterwards (having seen a queen high board appear), but was vindicated when I finally did borrow a pair if b******s later and had 2 of the big stacks fold to my all in (with K-J suited, from memory) pre flop, even them having raised and called before. I really thought about this move, rather than just cowering under the table, trying to protect my stack, like I normally do, convincing myself before a flop has been flipped that I am behind and/or will lose. I worked out what they had put in, what they would have to call, what kind of odds they would have, what they might have in the hole. I figured I might get rid of one of them but was rather chuffed when they both mucked and the nice writer chap to my left said 'Brave move', with more than a hint of taken-a-back-ness.
Then the same guy who had rivered his jack previously (with a few more chips now) shoved on a board of 6-K-J. I had been allowed to check my J-6 in the big blind, so, briefly double checking my cards, I snap called. I was up against AK. K tripped on the river. Behave, dealer! Really! He did apologise sheepishly while I was cursing my luck and anyone/anything that got in my eyeline. I suggested he should only say it if he really meant it.
So that decimated me. About 10-15mins later, I ended up seeing 3s with 2.5 bbs left. I all in called a raise from early position. The guy flipped aces (for the second time in 5 hands, I might add). Oh crap. Ace on flop. Bugger. Dealer then dug the knife in with a 3 on the river. Oh, do bore off...
I am seemingly getting less (but still some) polite support at the tables. Maybe it's cos these guys know my face and have seen me play some half decent stuff and realise I am bit more than a 'token bird'. I definitely prefer being treated like an equal - albeit one with decent eyelashes and rack...
I am concluding tonight is just one of those. Played good, did the right things (all but one time, maybe aruagably twice), but just no luck when I needed it. Still learning, still need to gamble and aggress more (it really works!), but the core is definitely, happily, here to stay.
I managed to make a loose call first hand, from the small blind, on the flop and had to get rid on the turn. This served my reputation well though, 2nd hand in, when I was given kings and somehow managed to check-call the flop and turn and re-raise all in (with a call) on the river to double up very early doors, with the guy showing A-high on a paired board with a bunch of other blank looking under cards.
I got a tad playful with my riches and lost 1500 or so over the next hour, before I was moved away from my favourite LPC dealer Sean to table 2 from table 1. Always think it's bad karma being moved from what will be the final table and having to find your way back there again. I kinda had to call a quarter of my stack soon after arriving on table 2 when I was dealt 10s and up against an all-in from early position with a short stack. I was up against AJ. The dealer obeyed my demands of small cards all the way to the river and then plopped a jack out there. Not amused.
I wimped out of shoving with Q-10 suited later with a half decent raise and call already behind me. I chastised myself afterwards (having seen a queen high board appear), but was vindicated when I finally did borrow a pair if b******s later and had 2 of the big stacks fold to my all in (with K-J suited, from memory) pre flop, even them having raised and called before. I really thought about this move, rather than just cowering under the table, trying to protect my stack, like I normally do, convincing myself before a flop has been flipped that I am behind and/or will lose. I worked out what they had put in, what they would have to call, what kind of odds they would have, what they might have in the hole. I figured I might get rid of one of them but was rather chuffed when they both mucked and the nice writer chap to my left said 'Brave move', with more than a hint of taken-a-back-ness.
Then the same guy who had rivered his jack previously (with a few more chips now) shoved on a board of 6-K-J. I had been allowed to check my J-6 in the big blind, so, briefly double checking my cards, I snap called. I was up against AK. K tripped on the river. Behave, dealer! Really! He did apologise sheepishly while I was cursing my luck and anyone/anything that got in my eyeline. I suggested he should only say it if he really meant it.
So that decimated me. About 10-15mins later, I ended up seeing 3s with 2.5 bbs left. I all in called a raise from early position. The guy flipped aces (for the second time in 5 hands, I might add). Oh crap. Ace on flop. Bugger. Dealer then dug the knife in with a 3 on the river. Oh, do bore off...
I am seemingly getting less (but still some) polite support at the tables. Maybe it's cos these guys know my face and have seen me play some half decent stuff and realise I am bit more than a 'token bird'. I definitely prefer being treated like an equal - albeit one with decent eyelashes and rack...
I am concluding tonight is just one of those. Played good, did the right things (all but one time, maybe aruagably twice), but just no luck when I needed it. Still learning, still need to gamble and aggress more (it really works!), but the core is definitely, happily, here to stay.
Thursday 1 July 2010
Swiss Rolled
Just had a very jolly time in a little SNG on PKR. Felt good, alright cards, a couple of very handy kickers and some over the top over-the-tops from the also-ran men, and, all of a sudden, there were 6 and we had a final table of a nice Swiss guy from near Lausanne, a gobby Scouser, a bloke from Bracknell who had come from my table and 1 other, who obviously had somewhere better to be or simply no chips from the preceeding hour or so of the tournament - can't remember which.
Got into a big old pot with the Swiss chap who had tripped his 8 by the flop, when I was merrily getting worried that the Ace (which also completed a flush draw) on the river was the one that had ****ed my 2 pair - but called the value bet anyway....
The guy from Bracknell bled quietly to death while I reminisced (in French) in the chatbox with the Swiss about the delights of Geneva, Lausanne and quizzed him on Swiss gaming legislation. Jeezus, I need to get out more.
My french charm didnt do me any good though; Heads up didn't last long - he was 5:1 up on me by then, so when my ace high with a paired board ran into his trip 9s about 7 hands in, it was time for a bath. Nice to remind myself I can still do it (kinda), though.
My sister's baby is still having a whale (no pun intended) of a time inside her, so poker this weekend could still be (happily) interrupted - but, if not, I am hoping for a better run than last week. ANY run, actually, would be an improvement.
Time, as ever, will tell.
Got into a big old pot with the Swiss chap who had tripped his 8 by the flop, when I was merrily getting worried that the Ace (which also completed a flush draw) on the river was the one that had ****ed my 2 pair - but called the value bet anyway....
The guy from Bracknell bled quietly to death while I reminisced (in French) in the chatbox with the Swiss about the delights of Geneva, Lausanne and quizzed him on Swiss gaming legislation. Jeezus, I need to get out more.
My french charm didnt do me any good though; Heads up didn't last long - he was 5:1 up on me by then, so when my ace high with a paired board ran into his trip 9s about 7 hands in, it was time for a bath. Nice to remind myself I can still do it (kinda), though.
My sister's baby is still having a whale (no pun intended) of a time inside her, so poker this weekend could still be (happily) interrupted - but, if not, I am hoping for a better run than last week. ANY run, actually, would be an improvement.
Time, as ever, will tell.
Friday 25 June 2010
Tables Turned
Well that was a thorougly horrible experience from start to finish.
Full of cold, running late, the most card dead I have ever been, and, finally, albeit earlyish (dead on half way of the 61 players) all in with a pair of 4s v 2 picture cards, one of which pairs on the turn.
I coulda/shoulda shoved with a v baby flush draw when I knew the guy had paired his ace on the flop but I have a phobia of getting them in on a draw which, even if it hits, might still feasibly lose.
Couldn't be any more opposite for me in terms of a run of luck/heat this week from last.
Leigh is currently doing his best to defend his title of last week. I am convincing myself that Bulmers has medicinal properties, cos it has fruit in it.
Full of cold, running late, the most card dead I have ever been, and, finally, albeit earlyish (dead on half way of the 61 players) all in with a pair of 4s v 2 picture cards, one of which pairs on the turn.
I coulda/shoulda shoved with a v baby flush draw when I knew the guy had paired his ace on the flop but I have a phobia of getting them in on a draw which, even if it hits, might still feasibly lose.
Couldn't be any more opposite for me in terms of a run of luck/heat this week from last.
Leigh is currently doing his best to defend his title of last week. I am convincing myself that Bulmers has medicinal properties, cos it has fruit in it.
Monday 21 June 2010
(Near) Perfect
I am still smiling. No, sorry, make that beaming. I made my first cash in a live tournament on Friday night and haven't stopped grinning and giggling to myself since.
There were 37 runners in the LPC Friday Night Fight Night. Was good to have something to distract me and the rest of us from the football. They exceptionally allowed re-buys (but no top ups, ie you had to be busted totally) for the first level of blinds which was 20mins that night; I guess so everyone was still in for most of the football.
I had 3 good hands in that re-buy time; a pair of 4s which could have been way ahead or way behind by the turn, so I took a conservative view, and A-J diamonds which, with hindsight, would have nut-flushed and was either an all-in or fold on the flop when I got some heat from half-way round. I chose the latter, sadly, and sat there for another 3 mins afterwards, chantering on to myself, telling myself to concentrate and 'man up' a bit.
Then, on the last hand of the first level, I was in the big blind and already had 3 all-ins behind me, as you do with half decent cards with a re-buy opportunity. I put my forefingers on the cards and willed them to 'be good, be good, be good, be good'....
I saw 7s. I took probably around 12 seconds before announcing, 'oh bugger it, go on then' and moving my stack, of about 25% less than what I started with, over the line. I was up against A-3, Q-9 (really?!) and A-10. One 3 came out on the flop and for a split second, I thought I was losing, forgetting my hand was already made. I managed to dodge everyone else's outs on the turn and river, despite the other players hurling instructions at the dealer to flip over one of their cards. I jumped a little way into the air, clapped my hands together quickly a couple of times in delight and sat back down and started to arrange my now rather healthy stack. A couple of the guys realised that they had left themselves with less than 800 chips as they were slightly ahead of me in chips, but everyone vetoed a rebuy/add-on for those in that circumstance as it would have been shifting the goal-posts too late in the day. Unlukcy.
I was a bit up and down for some time after that, mainly down as I was predominantly posting blinds and checking them or plain folding, as I am not sure I even saw a picture card for an hour and my glares at the dealer directly opposite got dirtier and dirtier.
A couple of big stacks arrived at my table and got richer, making my stack look a bit less competitive, as everyone else seemed to be going out or streaking ahead while I couldn't get myself involved.
Then I was moved to table 1, with 2 tables left. I joined my boss and Leigh's brother Matt, who had come up for the weekend, ostensibly to help him move, but, as an added benefit to play some live cards, having got into PKR in a big way in the last 6 months, and got rather good in a short time.
My boss, possibly weary from the beer he had planned to stay off that night, decided to make an overly chatty move on the huge stack (and possibly me behind him), a hand or 2 after I joined. He was called by the big stack (I got well out of harm's way) and he was dominated with a ragged ace and was promptly dumped out, making the guy to my right's stack VERY imposing. Matt then got them in WAY ahead, re-re-raising all in, having committed himself, I think purposefully, pre-flop - but got rivered and went out around 14th, I think.
I stayed relatively quiet (which was as painful as it was unusual for me) for the next half hour or so and sneaked onto the final table, pretty short but not last and drew seat 1 and therefore the button. Hurrah. Leigh was also there with a decent stack, I think in seat 7.
Goodness knows what happened to a couple of the guys from the other table. One guy had about 1 metre cubed of chips when I left that table, but somehow lost them and didn't make it over. Maybe being a wus has its merits after all...
The other remaining lady was busted out first. She was very short and had little/no options left. She was then followed by a chap 2 down from me who seemed to be trying to force it, when there was still shorter stacks than him (myself very much included), not to mention bags of time. Before long we were down to 7; 6 were to be paid. I was convinced I would be next and bubble. Yet. Again. I was miles behind, I had barely 12,000 of over 200,000 chips in play, and blinds I think were 1500-3000. Curiously the guy next to me suggested a bubble deal. He had a healthy stack, maybe he didn't fancy it or had somewhere else he wanted to be. But Billy Big Stack next to Leigh said he wouldn't agree, which was annoying for me at the time, but totally understandable.
And then it happened.
One of the other chaps was in all in, another one called and the guy was out. I can't even remember what any of the cards were, but I was so happy. The official guy came over to confirm prizes. Everyone congratulated each other on making the money. I tried to play it cool, like this kind of thing happened to me a lot. I dropped my head down to count my chips (still didn't have many at all), and then lifted my head slightly and gave Leigh a knowing look, trying not to give it away that I had just lost my live tournament cash virginity.
So, with my 'massive' 30 quid guaranteed, I started to play reeeeeally freely. I was all in pre-flop, with A-Q diamonds, folded round to the big stack in the big blind, who had lost a bit around the table recently. My 15k was about a quarter of his stack, I think I counted (after I had shoved). I stared at him as hard as I could, unflinching. I was pretty sure after a time he would fold; he duly did and I told him I thought he would. He was trying to make out it was close. I had decided I wasn't going to get pushed around anymore. I was all in vs the guy in seat 8 who had had his coat on for 90mins, professing he wanted to go home. I hate it when people do that. He was an ok player, in my eyes, not any better than that; he was the one who had made a hideous call to river Matt. I think he had decided to deliberately target me, as I was so short (and a bit gobby towards him). He raised, I shoved and won, with JJ I think, which held up vs his decent Ace. Then he tried the same thing again, no more than 6-7 hands later. I think I had picked up AK suited. The chips went in again; I leant back again, supped my glass of white wine and felt calm. The guy to my left was all in too, with less than me and less good cards. Seat 8 folded, moaning about something. I asked him, quite aggressively, what else I was supposed to do in that spot and was instantly supported by the rest of the table. Anorak quietened down.
Suddenly I was 5th - and nearly competitve. In any case, I had far exceeded my own expectations or dreams. I went quiet again for a bit and one of the other guys managed to get himself knocked out, to my shock and delight.
All I was doing was nesting on my precious chips, posting blinds and ducking for cover; having no cards making the decisions quite easy.
Then Anorak tested me again with a chunky raise. I had found KJ clubs. In they went again, wine was supped again, I leant back on the chair again like you were told off for doing at school. He had 10-2. And called. What the?!? I must have really pissed him off.
Then the oriental chap to my left, a very decent player, of whom I was very wary, found AJ and shoved with his sizeable stack. Leigh was to follow him; he was the chip leader by now and playing very well. He looked at his first card and I was sure he seemed to be already announcing 'call' before he had seen the other. He certainly snapped when the 2nd card was about millimetre off the felt. He had found Aces. Oh my God.
Then there were 3. Leigh, Anorak and, somehow, and I don't think I will ever really know how, me. Now I had 140 quid guaranteed. While completely surreal, I was just having the time of my life. Anytime I took a pot, I asked the nice young dealer if I could scoop the chips from the middle myself, rather than him passing them to me. Nobody seemed to mind too much.
Then Anorak seemingly suddenly got his chips in pre-flop. I blinked a couple of times, a little taken aback, yet also excited. I looked at my cards; I genuinely had nothing and folded, not even querying how much he had.
Leigh called. Oh, please....
I can't say with any certainty what those cards were either, but I remember being on my feet, seeing Leigh was either ahead or coin-flipping pre-flop, but definitely ahead on the flop or turn, possibly pairing an Ace. It all seemed to happen so quickly and, in spite of racking my brain, I can't recall exactly how it came, but what I do know is that at 1.13am, Leigh and I were heads up.
Bless him, he immediately offered to chop. Without any genuine expectation of my overturning the probably 5:1 chip defecit I was facing, I suggested we played for 15mins more, if no-one else minded. I kinda didn't want it to end, heck we still had an 'audience' of Matt and Mo, a guy I have adopted as a mate from my first table the other week who was also on my table first up this. I figured this might not happen again for sometime, us being the last 2 - even though afterwards the dealer Sean said kindly he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last time he'd be dealing to us heads up there.
If I wasn't flat folding, I was, of course, raising or shoving trying to make something happen. I won a couple of pots and nicked a few blinds and got it back at one point to 2:1. I was all in pre-flop with a big hand which he folded. Then next hand I decided to raise to 20k with 8-2 diamonds (think blinds were 4-8k); he called. Flop came 4-8-9. I was all in, he called and I knew then that would be it. He ended up with a straight, although his paired 9 was already good enough on the flop.
I stood up, not disappointed at all; I have never been so delighted to lose at something. I smiled, joined him around seat 9, and went to shake his hand, for which, very fairly, he told me off for being a muppet, and gave me a kiss. We collected our 240 and 190 quid respectively, shook hands warmly with the organiser chaps (I had let on then that it was my first cash), and then went to settle the bar tab - and grab the now traditional McDonalds and cab home.
I had either my hands across my mouth and nose, in semi-shock, or one hand in Leigh's, squeezing it and grinning from ear-to-ear, all the way home. I was still smiling to myself on Saturday morning, while I was doing my make up, alone in the bedroom, looking in the mirror. I'm such an idiot.
My sister is 3 days from being due to give birth to her first child, so, in times like this, poker and a couple of hundred quid, of course, pales into no significance at all, but, in my little world, finally, my next poker development objective has been achieved and a new chapter can start. I know I wasn't the 2nd best player in that tournament and certainly wasn't the most aggressive or biggest gambler. That said, everytime they went in I was ahead and they held up, which is, I guess, ultimately the key to all this. And I will now happily put to bed all the live bad beats I've had, to keep this little memory for sometime, and hopefully a long time more.
Phew.
There were 37 runners in the LPC Friday Night Fight Night. Was good to have something to distract me and the rest of us from the football. They exceptionally allowed re-buys (but no top ups, ie you had to be busted totally) for the first level of blinds which was 20mins that night; I guess so everyone was still in for most of the football.
I had 3 good hands in that re-buy time; a pair of 4s which could have been way ahead or way behind by the turn, so I took a conservative view, and A-J diamonds which, with hindsight, would have nut-flushed and was either an all-in or fold on the flop when I got some heat from half-way round. I chose the latter, sadly, and sat there for another 3 mins afterwards, chantering on to myself, telling myself to concentrate and 'man up' a bit.
Then, on the last hand of the first level, I was in the big blind and already had 3 all-ins behind me, as you do with half decent cards with a re-buy opportunity. I put my forefingers on the cards and willed them to 'be good, be good, be good, be good'....
I saw 7s. I took probably around 12 seconds before announcing, 'oh bugger it, go on then' and moving my stack, of about 25% less than what I started with, over the line. I was up against A-3, Q-9 (really?!) and A-10. One 3 came out on the flop and for a split second, I thought I was losing, forgetting my hand was already made. I managed to dodge everyone else's outs on the turn and river, despite the other players hurling instructions at the dealer to flip over one of their cards. I jumped a little way into the air, clapped my hands together quickly a couple of times in delight and sat back down and started to arrange my now rather healthy stack. A couple of the guys realised that they had left themselves with less than 800 chips as they were slightly ahead of me in chips, but everyone vetoed a rebuy/add-on for those in that circumstance as it would have been shifting the goal-posts too late in the day. Unlukcy.
I was a bit up and down for some time after that, mainly down as I was predominantly posting blinds and checking them or plain folding, as I am not sure I even saw a picture card for an hour and my glares at the dealer directly opposite got dirtier and dirtier.
A couple of big stacks arrived at my table and got richer, making my stack look a bit less competitive, as everyone else seemed to be going out or streaking ahead while I couldn't get myself involved.
Then I was moved to table 1, with 2 tables left. I joined my boss and Leigh's brother Matt, who had come up for the weekend, ostensibly to help him move, but, as an added benefit to play some live cards, having got into PKR in a big way in the last 6 months, and got rather good in a short time.
My boss, possibly weary from the beer he had planned to stay off that night, decided to make an overly chatty move on the huge stack (and possibly me behind him), a hand or 2 after I joined. He was called by the big stack (I got well out of harm's way) and he was dominated with a ragged ace and was promptly dumped out, making the guy to my right's stack VERY imposing. Matt then got them in WAY ahead, re-re-raising all in, having committed himself, I think purposefully, pre-flop - but got rivered and went out around 14th, I think.
I stayed relatively quiet (which was as painful as it was unusual for me) for the next half hour or so and sneaked onto the final table, pretty short but not last and drew seat 1 and therefore the button. Hurrah. Leigh was also there with a decent stack, I think in seat 7.
Goodness knows what happened to a couple of the guys from the other table. One guy had about 1 metre cubed of chips when I left that table, but somehow lost them and didn't make it over. Maybe being a wus has its merits after all...
The other remaining lady was busted out first. She was very short and had little/no options left. She was then followed by a chap 2 down from me who seemed to be trying to force it, when there was still shorter stacks than him (myself very much included), not to mention bags of time. Before long we were down to 7; 6 were to be paid. I was convinced I would be next and bubble. Yet. Again. I was miles behind, I had barely 12,000 of over 200,000 chips in play, and blinds I think were 1500-3000. Curiously the guy next to me suggested a bubble deal. He had a healthy stack, maybe he didn't fancy it or had somewhere else he wanted to be. But Billy Big Stack next to Leigh said he wouldn't agree, which was annoying for me at the time, but totally understandable.
And then it happened.
One of the other chaps was in all in, another one called and the guy was out. I can't even remember what any of the cards were, but I was so happy. The official guy came over to confirm prizes. Everyone congratulated each other on making the money. I tried to play it cool, like this kind of thing happened to me a lot. I dropped my head down to count my chips (still didn't have many at all), and then lifted my head slightly and gave Leigh a knowing look, trying not to give it away that I had just lost my live tournament cash virginity.
So, with my 'massive' 30 quid guaranteed, I started to play reeeeeally freely. I was all in pre-flop, with A-Q diamonds, folded round to the big stack in the big blind, who had lost a bit around the table recently. My 15k was about a quarter of his stack, I think I counted (after I had shoved). I stared at him as hard as I could, unflinching. I was pretty sure after a time he would fold; he duly did and I told him I thought he would. He was trying to make out it was close. I had decided I wasn't going to get pushed around anymore. I was all in vs the guy in seat 8 who had had his coat on for 90mins, professing he wanted to go home. I hate it when people do that. He was an ok player, in my eyes, not any better than that; he was the one who had made a hideous call to river Matt. I think he had decided to deliberately target me, as I was so short (and a bit gobby towards him). He raised, I shoved and won, with JJ I think, which held up vs his decent Ace. Then he tried the same thing again, no more than 6-7 hands later. I think I had picked up AK suited. The chips went in again; I leant back again, supped my glass of white wine and felt calm. The guy to my left was all in too, with less than me and less good cards. Seat 8 folded, moaning about something. I asked him, quite aggressively, what else I was supposed to do in that spot and was instantly supported by the rest of the table. Anorak quietened down.
Suddenly I was 5th - and nearly competitve. In any case, I had far exceeded my own expectations or dreams. I went quiet again for a bit and one of the other guys managed to get himself knocked out, to my shock and delight.
All I was doing was nesting on my precious chips, posting blinds and ducking for cover; having no cards making the decisions quite easy.
Then Anorak tested me again with a chunky raise. I had found KJ clubs. In they went again, wine was supped again, I leant back on the chair again like you were told off for doing at school. He had 10-2. And called. What the?!? I must have really pissed him off.
Then the oriental chap to my left, a very decent player, of whom I was very wary, found AJ and shoved with his sizeable stack. Leigh was to follow him; he was the chip leader by now and playing very well. He looked at his first card and I was sure he seemed to be already announcing 'call' before he had seen the other. He certainly snapped when the 2nd card was about millimetre off the felt. He had found Aces. Oh my God.
Then there were 3. Leigh, Anorak and, somehow, and I don't think I will ever really know how, me. Now I had 140 quid guaranteed. While completely surreal, I was just having the time of my life. Anytime I took a pot, I asked the nice young dealer if I could scoop the chips from the middle myself, rather than him passing them to me. Nobody seemed to mind too much.
Then Anorak seemingly suddenly got his chips in pre-flop. I blinked a couple of times, a little taken aback, yet also excited. I looked at my cards; I genuinely had nothing and folded, not even querying how much he had.
Leigh called. Oh, please....
I can't say with any certainty what those cards were either, but I remember being on my feet, seeing Leigh was either ahead or coin-flipping pre-flop, but definitely ahead on the flop or turn, possibly pairing an Ace. It all seemed to happen so quickly and, in spite of racking my brain, I can't recall exactly how it came, but what I do know is that at 1.13am, Leigh and I were heads up.
Bless him, he immediately offered to chop. Without any genuine expectation of my overturning the probably 5:1 chip defecit I was facing, I suggested we played for 15mins more, if no-one else minded. I kinda didn't want it to end, heck we still had an 'audience' of Matt and Mo, a guy I have adopted as a mate from my first table the other week who was also on my table first up this. I figured this might not happen again for sometime, us being the last 2 - even though afterwards the dealer Sean said kindly he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last time he'd be dealing to us heads up there.
If I wasn't flat folding, I was, of course, raising or shoving trying to make something happen. I won a couple of pots and nicked a few blinds and got it back at one point to 2:1. I was all in pre-flop with a big hand which he folded. Then next hand I decided to raise to 20k with 8-2 diamonds (think blinds were 4-8k); he called. Flop came 4-8-9. I was all in, he called and I knew then that would be it. He ended up with a straight, although his paired 9 was already good enough on the flop.
I stood up, not disappointed at all; I have never been so delighted to lose at something. I smiled, joined him around seat 9, and went to shake his hand, for which, very fairly, he told me off for being a muppet, and gave me a kiss. We collected our 240 and 190 quid respectively, shook hands warmly with the organiser chaps (I had let on then that it was my first cash), and then went to settle the bar tab - and grab the now traditional McDonalds and cab home.
I had either my hands across my mouth and nose, in semi-shock, or one hand in Leigh's, squeezing it and grinning from ear-to-ear, all the way home. I was still smiling to myself on Saturday morning, while I was doing my make up, alone in the bedroom, looking in the mirror. I'm such an idiot.
My sister is 3 days from being due to give birth to her first child, so, in times like this, poker and a couple of hundred quid, of course, pales into no significance at all, but, in my little world, finally, my next poker development objective has been achieved and a new chapter can start. I know I wasn't the 2nd best player in that tournament and certainly wasn't the most aggressive or biggest gambler. That said, everytime they went in I was ahead and they held up, which is, I guess, ultimately the key to all this. And I will now happily put to bed all the live bad beats I've had, to keep this little memory for sometime, and hopefully a long time more.
Phew.
Sunday 13 June 2010
Easy Like Sunday Evening
Just won a nice little 24-man SNG on PKR. A tidy little performance even if I do say so myself, in front of the football with red wine in hand and washing in the machine.
Just managed to hit the front (and a couple of decent hands) at the right time and bobbed and weaved my way away from trouble.
I was 2:1 down at the start of heads up as my opponent had just wiped out 3rd when we all had v similar stacks. I was dealt QQ 1st hand and we had a little raise, re-raise, re-re-raise, all-in dance to see him turn over 10s which hit on the flop,thankfully followed by my Q on the river. Got there in the end.
Then never went behind. I do love heads up, if only I could be so agressive when I'm up against one other person in a hand in the middle of a tourny...
Will save my profit for later in the week, and all good practice for the inevitable casino trip on Friday/Saturday of this week.
Just managed to hit the front (and a couple of decent hands) at the right time and bobbed and weaved my way away from trouble.
I was 2:1 down at the start of heads up as my opponent had just wiped out 3rd when we all had v similar stacks. I was dealt QQ 1st hand and we had a little raise, re-raise, re-re-raise, all-in dance to see him turn over 10s which hit on the flop,thankfully followed by my Q on the river. Got there in the end.
Then never went behind. I do love heads up, if only I could be so agressive when I'm up against one other person in a hand in the middle of a tourny...
Will save my profit for later in the week, and all good practice for the inevitable casino trip on Friday/Saturday of this week.
Friday 11 June 2010
It's my hotel and I'll cry if I want to
When you're all in 3 ways and your KJ clubs over Q4 off gets done by 8-3 off from the David Walliams lookalike with cigarette yellowed shaky fingers to your right, you can pretty much say it wasn't meant to be your night.
17th of 42 at LPC tonight. Started well, good cards, decent play, albeit self deal. My first table was great fun, lovely guys. Had my arse touched up by a guy who called himself Jeff but I am quite sure was Bernard Manning at the break, who then kept winking at me when I joined what I am unaffectionately terming the geek table in the corner after a couple of hands afterwards. These guys were different. Not different class. I doubt many of them have girlfriends anyway. I checked 8-3 from BB and caught AA8 on the flop which I bet and got called. I should have reminded myself he flinched as if he was going to muck before he suddenly changed his mind and called. Then I bet (more) on the blank turn and got hugely raised and bottled it - when thinking time and hindsight, or just a bit more time playing with these guys to work them out, screamed I was ahead.
My pocket queens were subsequently rivered by a(n eventual) set of 10s when I got the fear about the 1 K overcard and didn't bet enough/at all. And then I was pretty much blinded/bullied out with few options to the contrary, until the suited picture cards that were massive until the 8 and other under cards came.
Utter crap at the end, but need to trust my instinct better and gamble more and, in effect, play to win over surviving another 5 or 10 unpaid cash places.
Wish the wine here wasn't so expensive. Time to kill now. Going to cheerlead for Leigh and plan kebab en route home.
17th of 42 at LPC tonight. Started well, good cards, decent play, albeit self deal. My first table was great fun, lovely guys. Had my arse touched up by a guy who called himself Jeff but I am quite sure was Bernard Manning at the break, who then kept winking at me when I joined what I am unaffectionately terming the geek table in the corner after a couple of hands afterwards. These guys were different. Not different class. I doubt many of them have girlfriends anyway. I checked 8-3 from BB and caught AA8 on the flop which I bet and got called. I should have reminded myself he flinched as if he was going to muck before he suddenly changed his mind and called. Then I bet (more) on the blank turn and got hugely raised and bottled it - when thinking time and hindsight, or just a bit more time playing with these guys to work them out, screamed I was ahead.
My pocket queens were subsequently rivered by a(n eventual) set of 10s when I got the fear about the 1 K overcard and didn't bet enough/at all. And then I was pretty much blinded/bullied out with few options to the contrary, until the suited picture cards that were massive until the 8 and other under cards came.
Utter crap at the end, but need to trust my instinct better and gamble more and, in effect, play to win over surviving another 5 or 10 unpaid cash places.
Wish the wine here wasn't so expensive. Time to kill now. Going to cheerlead for Leigh and plan kebab en route home.
Tuesday 8 June 2010
Yuk
Very disappointed to not find a WSOP Stage 2 qualifier starting any time after 7pm on PKR tonight, so messed about with a couple of SNGs to get my eye back in.
Was, frankly, rubbish. Everything I did was wrong - or, worse, most things I did were right but the stoopid, sick dealer made them look like the wrong thing with ridculous hole cards, turns and rivers.
Most frustrating and I have decided not worth investing any more of my evening in. Not while there's still a dribble of red wine and chocolate fingers about.
Was, frankly, rubbish. Everything I did was wrong - or, worse, most things I did were right but the stoopid, sick dealer made them look like the wrong thing with ridculous hole cards, turns and rivers.
Most frustrating and I have decided not worth investing any more of my evening in. Not while there's still a dribble of red wine and chocolate fingers about.
Monday 31 May 2010
Long week
Having had a few days in Prague last week for the i-Gaming SuperShow conference, online poker had been non-existent in my world until tonight when I managed to bubble for a PKR WSOP stage 3 ticket (again) and got my money back to try again later in the week.
Meeting John Tabatabai (who seemed suitably impressed/surprised that I, a girl, played poker) at ungodly o'clock in the queue for the flight at Gatwick airport on Tuesday morning, meant I was, in turn, suitably inspired and itching to get my hands on some Czech chips sooner rather than later.
With all the crazy parties (don't get me started on the midgets and balaclava-clad gunmen at Calvin Ayre's birthday) and gatherings to attend, I played just twice in Prague, once from 11pm to 6am (when the hotel casino closed, which, as a Londoner with access to 24hr poker, was surreal and, at the time, a bit of a disappointment as I was just starting to re-build my empire).
6am represented a personal 'best' late/early finish time for me; with hindsight it was a good thing they chucked us out, it allowed me at least 2 hours' sleep before day 2 of the conference - and it saved my suit jacket on the back of my chair from another soaking from the Canadian numpty stood behind me, who had doused it in a glass of some spirit and coke, stumbling about around half 5.
I also played on the last afternoon of the conference week, unofficially, at the networking meet-up bar along with a handful other industry luminaries/layabouts.
I should have given up the Hilton casino appearance around 4am when I was 400 quid up and before the (free and very-strong-and-getting-stronger) Jack and cokes started making over-ballsy/plain piss poor decisions on my behalf. I ended up 100 quid to the good, which was pleasing enough, but wish I had been knackered when I had the monster stack in front of me and my 'competition' was drunk Europeans who work in gaming and therefore think they're Phil Ivey.
I quadrupled my money in the casual (and veerrrryy loose) game on the Friday, which ensured a McDonalds 'feast' at the airport and sufficent Magners, vin blanc and Easyjet nibbles for the girls in my office on the plane home.
Am feeling very good about poker at the moment and, aside from the Jack-fuelled, middle of the night blip on Wednesday, I am playing well, without having to think too much most of the time, it is coming pretty naturally; I have to be due something really good soon. Surely? ...
Meeting John Tabatabai (who seemed suitably impressed/surprised that I, a girl, played poker) at ungodly o'clock in the queue for the flight at Gatwick airport on Tuesday morning, meant I was, in turn, suitably inspired and itching to get my hands on some Czech chips sooner rather than later.
With all the crazy parties (don't get me started on the midgets and balaclava-clad gunmen at Calvin Ayre's birthday) and gatherings to attend, I played just twice in Prague, once from 11pm to 6am (when the hotel casino closed, which, as a Londoner with access to 24hr poker, was surreal and, at the time, a bit of a disappointment as I was just starting to re-build my empire).
6am represented a personal 'best' late/early finish time for me; with hindsight it was a good thing they chucked us out, it allowed me at least 2 hours' sleep before day 2 of the conference - and it saved my suit jacket on the back of my chair from another soaking from the Canadian numpty stood behind me, who had doused it in a glass of some spirit and coke, stumbling about around half 5.
I also played on the last afternoon of the conference week, unofficially, at the networking meet-up bar along with a handful other industry luminaries/layabouts.
I should have given up the Hilton casino appearance around 4am when I was 400 quid up and before the (free and very-strong-and-getting-stronger) Jack and cokes started making over-ballsy/plain piss poor decisions on my behalf. I ended up 100 quid to the good, which was pleasing enough, but wish I had been knackered when I had the monster stack in front of me and my 'competition' was drunk Europeans who work in gaming and therefore think they're Phil Ivey.
I quadrupled my money in the casual (and veerrrryy loose) game on the Friday, which ensured a McDonalds 'feast' at the airport and sufficent Magners, vin blanc and Easyjet nibbles for the girls in my office on the plane home.
Am feeling very good about poker at the moment and, aside from the Jack-fuelled, middle of the night blip on Wednesday, I am playing well, without having to think too much most of the time, it is coming pretty naturally; I have to be due something really good soon. Surely? ...
Monday 24 May 2010
Slain by the Dragon
I had my best ever live tourny result on Friday night. So, why, one may wonder, did it end in tears (literally), kicking a tiled wall in the ladies loos?
The venue was the London Poker Circuit at Kensington Close Hotel. A nice tournament, 5k starting stack, freezeout, decent structure and decent players for the most part (but some very questionable calling with A-3 type hands early and some over-adventurous moves in the middle when there still seemed ample time to me).
I had won probably only 3 pots of really sizeable proportions for the first couple of sessions, one with KK that I had the total fear about, having seen a guy busted with them twice in 2 hands 5 mins before; once losing to a full house over trips v AK on the river and the 2nd time losing to a straight I think.
I think a couple of the guys, one who I could have sworn was Snoop Dogg, thought I was there to be bullied and tried to chuck out some big raises against me which got the heart pumping, but which also got (correctly) called.
I got very lucky with pocket Jacks that I seriously considered shoving with preflop late-ish on with 2 tables left, but opted for a decent raise, which was called by one player. Flop was A-5-7. My opponent, who was shorter than me, went all in. I had got myself into a spot of bother by over-committing myself and, while I was pretty sure he had caught, I just had a sense my jack would come. And, equally, I wasn't going to sit there with a handful of chips, needing to shove with a lesser hand, 10 mins later when it had got beyond critical.
He turned over his Ace first, which I acknowledged with an 'I know'. Then he turned an 8. His 8 also paired on the turn, which obviously didn't change much, other than to make him even sicker when the Jack did come on the river.
I honestly couldn't help my 'whoo-hoo', which was ill-advised, I know, but really, genuinely, out of relief, other than anything else. I hate Jacks at the best of times, it was just so nice to see them do me a favour for once.
So I had eeked and creeped my way to the final table, never going below my starting stack, which I think is a first for me, certainly live or in an MTT.
I arrived at the Promised Land around 8th I think, making a big double-up early, when a guy raised from early position to have me shove over the top with A-Q diamonds. He collapsed in a heap when everyone else had folded and he realised he had to call for another 7-8k even though he only had 3-4 off suit (and worse, show the cards to the rest of the table). I then managed to knock out the guy to my left, raising with KK the same amount as I had done the hand before when I saw 10-10 which was enough to take it down pre-flop. He shoved over the top, everyone folded back to me. I couldn't do anything but call and my cowboys held up vs his A-8.
I got involved in a pot which got messy, with the aforementioned 3-4-off raiser. I had 7s, with which I raised pre-flop and got called. With an A and Q as well as a couple of under cards by the turn, when he shoved, I figured I was losing to too many hands to put my tournament life at risk.
A couple of the big stacks then proceeded to clash, taking each other out, leaving me 5th but very short and blinds coming round and going up (I think I had 4-5 BBs left at that point).
So, with the actual money being secondary (it was only 4x the buy in for 4th place) and more the principle of cashing the thought at the forefront of my mind, I was stuck between ensuring I wasn't being blinded out like a loser and not making a silly shove; and therefore trying to find a sensible enough middle-ground move.
I ended up seeing K-J clubs from early position not long after and figured they were as good as any.
My friend at the other end now his with the Top Gun shades on and a cheeky smile said, 'oh no, please, not a big pocket pair' and called. I turned my bottom lip over, shrugged and flicked the cards over into the middle. He had 8s. 8s!! My favourite pocket pair, how they could they possibly put me out?!
I stood up, with no remaining influence other than a 'Do your job, Dealer' comment. He tried, in fairness to him; 2 clubs out on the flop. I thought for a moment he'd find another. Or a King. Or a Jack. So many outs...
And then it was over. I was 5th of 31.
Bubble.
Again.
I shook Top Gun's hand and that of the remaining other 3 (like they do on tele on the feature tables nearing the end of a tournamnent). I picked up my handbag and pashmina and walked over to Leigh who was playing cash, having got unlucky and gone out 7th. He looked up at the screen, to check how many players were listed as left and the prizes being awarded, looked back at my sad face and then his face dropped too as he realised what I had done. Or rather not done...
I thought I'd let him down as much as myself. And, so, like any self-respecting amateur that heaps far too much pressure on herself, I went and kicked the tile in the toilets and spent the next 5 mins trying to get rid of my puffy eyes and tidying up my mascara.
It's like trying to get to the next level on a computer game; you spend ages, going through the motions, jumping from ledge to ledge, dodging bullets and flying baddies, picking up extra energy/weapons, finding the secret door to fast-track yourself along; you can do most of it in your sleep - and then when you've got through all of that with your skill, guile and luck, you just have to finish off the big dragon-y monster to advance, but he always smokes you.
One day soon, that bloody dragon is going to get what's coming to him. It is surely only a matter of time.
I hope.
The venue was the London Poker Circuit at Kensington Close Hotel. A nice tournament, 5k starting stack, freezeout, decent structure and decent players for the most part (but some very questionable calling with A-3 type hands early and some over-adventurous moves in the middle when there still seemed ample time to me).
I had won probably only 3 pots of really sizeable proportions for the first couple of sessions, one with KK that I had the total fear about, having seen a guy busted with them twice in 2 hands 5 mins before; once losing to a full house over trips v AK on the river and the 2nd time losing to a straight I think.
I think a couple of the guys, one who I could have sworn was Snoop Dogg, thought I was there to be bullied and tried to chuck out some big raises against me which got the heart pumping, but which also got (correctly) called.
I got very lucky with pocket Jacks that I seriously considered shoving with preflop late-ish on with 2 tables left, but opted for a decent raise, which was called by one player. Flop was A-5-7. My opponent, who was shorter than me, went all in. I had got myself into a spot of bother by over-committing myself and, while I was pretty sure he had caught, I just had a sense my jack would come. And, equally, I wasn't going to sit there with a handful of chips, needing to shove with a lesser hand, 10 mins later when it had got beyond critical.
He turned over his Ace first, which I acknowledged with an 'I know'. Then he turned an 8. His 8 also paired on the turn, which obviously didn't change much, other than to make him even sicker when the Jack did come on the river.
I honestly couldn't help my 'whoo-hoo', which was ill-advised, I know, but really, genuinely, out of relief, other than anything else. I hate Jacks at the best of times, it was just so nice to see them do me a favour for once.
So I had eeked and creeped my way to the final table, never going below my starting stack, which I think is a first for me, certainly live or in an MTT.
I arrived at the Promised Land around 8th I think, making a big double-up early, when a guy raised from early position to have me shove over the top with A-Q diamonds. He collapsed in a heap when everyone else had folded and he realised he had to call for another 7-8k even though he only had 3-4 off suit (and worse, show the cards to the rest of the table). I then managed to knock out the guy to my left, raising with KK the same amount as I had done the hand before when I saw 10-10 which was enough to take it down pre-flop. He shoved over the top, everyone folded back to me. I couldn't do anything but call and my cowboys held up vs his A-8.
I got involved in a pot which got messy, with the aforementioned 3-4-off raiser. I had 7s, with which I raised pre-flop and got called. With an A and Q as well as a couple of under cards by the turn, when he shoved, I figured I was losing to too many hands to put my tournament life at risk.
A couple of the big stacks then proceeded to clash, taking each other out, leaving me 5th but very short and blinds coming round and going up (I think I had 4-5 BBs left at that point).
So, with the actual money being secondary (it was only 4x the buy in for 4th place) and more the principle of cashing the thought at the forefront of my mind, I was stuck between ensuring I wasn't being blinded out like a loser and not making a silly shove; and therefore trying to find a sensible enough middle-ground move.
I ended up seeing K-J clubs from early position not long after and figured they were as good as any.
My friend at the other end now his with the Top Gun shades on and a cheeky smile said, 'oh no, please, not a big pocket pair' and called. I turned my bottom lip over, shrugged and flicked the cards over into the middle. He had 8s. 8s!! My favourite pocket pair, how they could they possibly put me out?!
I stood up, with no remaining influence other than a 'Do your job, Dealer' comment. He tried, in fairness to him; 2 clubs out on the flop. I thought for a moment he'd find another. Or a King. Or a Jack. So many outs...
And then it was over. I was 5th of 31.
Bubble.
Again.
I shook Top Gun's hand and that of the remaining other 3 (like they do on tele on the feature tables nearing the end of a tournamnent). I picked up my handbag and pashmina and walked over to Leigh who was playing cash, having got unlucky and gone out 7th. He looked up at the screen, to check how many players were listed as left and the prizes being awarded, looked back at my sad face and then his face dropped too as he realised what I had done. Or rather not done...
I thought I'd let him down as much as myself. And, so, like any self-respecting amateur that heaps far too much pressure on herself, I went and kicked the tile in the toilets and spent the next 5 mins trying to get rid of my puffy eyes and tidying up my mascara.
It's like trying to get to the next level on a computer game; you spend ages, going through the motions, jumping from ledge to ledge, dodging bullets and flying baddies, picking up extra energy/weapons, finding the secret door to fast-track yourself along; you can do most of it in your sleep - and then when you've got through all of that with your skill, guile and luck, you just have to finish off the big dragon-y monster to advance, but he always smokes you.
One day soon, that bloody dragon is going to get what's coming to him. It is surely only a matter of time.
I hope.
Friday 21 May 2010
You are kidding me!
Had a very jolly (but another late) poker night last night, courtesy of Bluff and their new, rather swish, room in the Mint Casino at South Ken.
It was an industry 20 quid NLHE freezeout, so, having registered myself as a member of the club (why not) and claimed my free welcome beer, I went and said hi to friends, associates and current and ex colleagues and had a nose in the empty tournament room, where there were I think 5 tables, a little close together, but comfortable enough. I wasn't sure if all the players and their egos were going to squeeze in, though.
They had 2 cash tables in the 'front' room where the poker reg desk and little bar were and they got going sometime after 9 and were still full when I finally left at about 2am. Is a decent place, good felt, feels 'new', very nice people too from front desk to pretty blonde lady at the bar. Drinks are good value and I am in love with the toasties for a pound.
There were 38 runners, with 2000 chips, blinds were every 25 mins I think but they seemed to shoot up and we started to lose players regularly after 40mins or so, making moves with short stacks and getting beaten. I played APPAULINGLY for the first hour. Clearly not oiled enough and totally in my shell with important people on my table that I didn't want to make an arse of myself in front of, in spite of them clearly having very low expectations of the plucky girl, who was, patently to them, just there to have a go at this poker lark, possibly bought in by her boss or boyfriend etc and who clearly wouldn't play regularly again, there or anywhere else.
Grrrrrrr.
So, while I should have certainly called on a 2 pair board 2s, 9s on the turn, with A high, I made a couple of very nice lay-downs and then, having been there a while and growing in confidence, I hit 2 pair on the flop from the big blind which I had been allowed to check with 5-3. I bet 3/4 of the pot and a third of my remaining stack and got one caller, one Michael Caselli, who wasn't short of chips, confidence, chat or cheeky tongue-poking-outing. When there was a semi-blank on the turn, putting 2 diamonds and 2 hearts out there, I decided to shove, half expecting him to call - for entertainment if nothing else, even if the odds were not quite there or thereabouts. I decided, if I was to go down, I would do so hurling (non-malicious) abuse, so, in my inimitable and unladylike fashion, suggested he should 'ship em'.
Thankfully he did.
So, after the break, we're down to the last 14 or so; I am, comparitive to most, very short, mind.
I have my boss to my right; he gets busted by a former colleague of mine, Steve, in a 3-way all in which, in my humble opinion, was a silly shove in the first place with A-8 off under the gun, that got 2 callers - and a sick turn or river that gave Steve a whole bunch of chips.
I found JQ suited a couple of hands later, so shoved and was called by Steve with pocket 6s. Happy with that pre-flop and stood to get my beer and kneeled on my chair, to thankfully see the dealer award me my Jack on the turn.
So... still short, but at least some chips, now. We are now down to 1 before the final table.
I am in the small blind, it has folded round to me, with Steve in the big blind. I see 4-4 and figure I should get them in again, without messing about. The total bet is 3600, a third of Steve's stack, expecting to be racing against a decent ace, hopefully not a bigger pocket pair - or just mopping up his blind; either is good for me.
Steve says ‘call’ very casually and quickly, and throws in a couple of hundred chips and then fiddles with his cards.
Everyone looks puzzled and waits for the other 3300 to cross the line. Then he realizes I had gone all in and gets really flustered, saying all he wanted to do was check and he tries to fish his red 100 chips back out and now wants to fold. The dealer is insistent that he said call so it’s a call.
Now I am torn between trying to convince the dealer to let him fold, just in case he does catch the one half-decent card he obviously has, or seconding his decision to enforce the call, because if Steve actually has bugger all, I can get some lovely, easy, free money, just because his brain was otherwise occupied at that moment.
Then it strikes me that, of course, whatever he has, he is going to beat me because there is no God. And I say just as much out loud.
He flips over K-7 off. Flop comes K-7-5.
Needless to say, no other 4’s or straight-connecting cards appear on the turn or the river. I was steeeaaaaming. That is exactly the kind of hand that the all in is there to get rid of!! I might burst.
'Double jack and coke, please, bar-keep'.
The whole casino had heard about it (some of them twice) by the end of the night. My taxi driver had to listen to me chanter on all the way home, but, in fairness, he did ask.
Steve won the tournament eventually. Game of skill, my arse.
It was an industry 20 quid NLHE freezeout, so, having registered myself as a member of the club (why not) and claimed my free welcome beer, I went and said hi to friends, associates and current and ex colleagues and had a nose in the empty tournament room, where there were I think 5 tables, a little close together, but comfortable enough. I wasn't sure if all the players and their egos were going to squeeze in, though.
They had 2 cash tables in the 'front' room where the poker reg desk and little bar were and they got going sometime after 9 and were still full when I finally left at about 2am. Is a decent place, good felt, feels 'new', very nice people too from front desk to pretty blonde lady at the bar. Drinks are good value and I am in love with the toasties for a pound.
There were 38 runners, with 2000 chips, blinds were every 25 mins I think but they seemed to shoot up and we started to lose players regularly after 40mins or so, making moves with short stacks and getting beaten. I played APPAULINGLY for the first hour. Clearly not oiled enough and totally in my shell with important people on my table that I didn't want to make an arse of myself in front of, in spite of them clearly having very low expectations of the plucky girl, who was, patently to them, just there to have a go at this poker lark, possibly bought in by her boss or boyfriend etc and who clearly wouldn't play regularly again, there or anywhere else.
Grrrrrrr.
So, while I should have certainly called on a 2 pair board 2s, 9s on the turn, with A high, I made a couple of very nice lay-downs and then, having been there a while and growing in confidence, I hit 2 pair on the flop from the big blind which I had been allowed to check with 5-3. I bet 3/4 of the pot and a third of my remaining stack and got one caller, one Michael Caselli, who wasn't short of chips, confidence, chat or cheeky tongue-poking-outing. When there was a semi-blank on the turn, putting 2 diamonds and 2 hearts out there, I decided to shove, half expecting him to call - for entertainment if nothing else, even if the odds were not quite there or thereabouts. I decided, if I was to go down, I would do so hurling (non-malicious) abuse, so, in my inimitable and unladylike fashion, suggested he should 'ship em'.
Thankfully he did.
So, after the break, we're down to the last 14 or so; I am, comparitive to most, very short, mind.
I have my boss to my right; he gets busted by a former colleague of mine, Steve, in a 3-way all in which, in my humble opinion, was a silly shove in the first place with A-8 off under the gun, that got 2 callers - and a sick turn or river that gave Steve a whole bunch of chips.
I found JQ suited a couple of hands later, so shoved and was called by Steve with pocket 6s. Happy with that pre-flop and stood to get my beer and kneeled on my chair, to thankfully see the dealer award me my Jack on the turn.
So... still short, but at least some chips, now. We are now down to 1 before the final table.
I am in the small blind, it has folded round to me, with Steve in the big blind. I see 4-4 and figure I should get them in again, without messing about. The total bet is 3600, a third of Steve's stack, expecting to be racing against a decent ace, hopefully not a bigger pocket pair - or just mopping up his blind; either is good for me.
Steve says ‘call’ very casually and quickly, and throws in a couple of hundred chips and then fiddles with his cards.
Everyone looks puzzled and waits for the other 3300 to cross the line. Then he realizes I had gone all in and gets really flustered, saying all he wanted to do was check and he tries to fish his red 100 chips back out and now wants to fold. The dealer is insistent that he said call so it’s a call.
Now I am torn between trying to convince the dealer to let him fold, just in case he does catch the one half-decent card he obviously has, or seconding his decision to enforce the call, because if Steve actually has bugger all, I can get some lovely, easy, free money, just because his brain was otherwise occupied at that moment.
Then it strikes me that, of course, whatever he has, he is going to beat me because there is no God. And I say just as much out loud.
He flips over K-7 off. Flop comes K-7-5.
Needless to say, no other 4’s or straight-connecting cards appear on the turn or the river. I was steeeaaaaming. That is exactly the kind of hand that the all in is there to get rid of!! I might burst.
'Double jack and coke, please, bar-keep'.
The whole casino had heard about it (some of them twice) by the end of the night. My taxi driver had to listen to me chanter on all the way home, but, in fairness, he did ask.
Steve won the tournament eventually. Game of skill, my arse.
Wednesday 19 May 2010
So near....
So my colleague, Sarah, and I made our way to Chiswick Poker Club, contained within Chiswick Snooker Club, last night. We had elected to make a bit of an evening of it, having dinner at the Blueberry before and a few glasses of nerve-settling white wine for Sarah, who was making her 'competitive' (ie playing against strangers for real money, on or offline) debut.
Neither of us really knew what to expect; we had just hoped it would be friendly to us, but to paint the picture, imagine a large darkened room, lit mainly from the lights behind the bar and over the snooker tables in use, situated at the arse end of an industrial park near the M4, with vans and Fiestas in the car park, populated exclusively by around 30-odd men, aged 35-60, mostly in tracksuits or old jeans and work's airtex polo shirts, drinking pints of Carling.
Imagine then, the stir that 2 late twenties/early 30's females could cause by toddling in; one short, curvy, northern, ballsy, blonde in summer dress and cream heels, one thin, tall, very pretty English rose-esque, shy-er brunette, in smart black trousers and top. Then multiply that stir by 10 when the blonde announces that they'd like to register to be poker members and play in the 9pm re-buy.
I think it took no more than 10 mins for the word to spread. I heard whispers of 'they're playing, you know', and 'yes, those 2 at the bar' and saw a couple of knowing/confused/beaming looks exchanged between the regulars.
So, we set about our forms and tackling our Guiness Extra Cold and Vodka, (neon, cat urine coloured) lime and soda (which together cost no more than a fiver). Before long, a slender, weathered chap with a pierced ear came over and politely confirmed for himself the rumour that we were here for the cards. He introduced himself as Eddie and extended a hand; he told us he'd be dealing and playing, as he does every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday there (he also plays in Twickenham on a Wednesday and in 2 other spots on the other days, giving himself one day a week off, never playing online as he thinks poker is about playing people not cards).
He made Sarah certainly feel at home and she was seated on his table, thankfully so knew she was going to be looked after with blind posting and what her options were in terms of checking, betting and folding. I drew table 1, seat 5.
The tournament was a £10 rebuy, 2000 starting chips, 10 quid for another 1000 if you got busted, but (seemingly occasionally and randomly) offered £5 top ups of 1000 during the first hour, regardless of stack, which seemed silly not to do at half price.
At the end of the re-buy hour, you could buy an additonal 3000 for a tenner, 6000 for a purple note and 9000 for 30 quid. Most people took 9000 which made that decision easy for me, with around only my starting stack in front of me, courtesy of a middle pair that was outkicked, a full house bettered by a bigger full house and a pair of 7s that ran into Aces.
With some chips and finally some proper cards, I called a raise to a decent player pre-flop with QQ which hit their set first card out on the board. I cunningly check called on the flop with a K and 5 also out there, and check-checked on the turn, which I think could have been an Ace, thinking back. I bet just over a third of the pot on the river when a 2 came, which he called almost as quickly as I flipped my ladies. I sensed a slight hush as he nodded 'you're good, nice hand', but I was still pretty short and only managed to mop up the blinds, shoving with KK pre flop with an average stack, of around 10 big blinds a little later.
It was a funny atmosphere, much like a home game, certainly not as tidy on the table as I am used to, even playing after hours in the office. On our first table, at least, everyone was sorting out their own change from their bets, mucked cards just went into the middle with the chips and burn cards, guys would often show the chap next to them their mucked cards, as they were throwing them away, or even fish them back out, mid-hand, to make a point about how unlucky they are. Sometimes they'd chat about the hand even if they weren't in it. While I didn't partake in any of the above, I didn't mind all that much; it was just different and a reminder, if I needed it, that no-one was taking it (or themselves) too seriously, which was refreshing.
I made the final table, happily - not the shortest stack, but way behind the 4 leaders. Sarah had gone out, very respectably, about 13th, getting them in with JJ only to be called by the big stack on her table; an athletic, mixed race guy with big scary muscles, tattoos and a shaved bald head (but yet puppy dog hazel eyes), who called and showed QQ.
At the final table, starting with the button in seat one, next to Eddie the dealer, who was now out himself, I folded lots of marginal hands, and one good one that I probably should have shove/called with, but bottled it as I just had a flash of women's intuition that the guy had a big pair and if my A didn't hit I'd be in bother.
2 of the other shorter stacks got busted out. I had checked my option in the big blind with 8-2 clubs. Flop came down J-7-2 (J and 7 being clubs). Big muscle-bound-tattooed man bets 3200, around a third of my remaining stack, with I think 2000 in there already.
I just fancied he might have gone all round it, so with my 'huge' pair of deuces but more importantly the flush draw, I pondered a moment, took a deep breath and announced all in, trying to look as cool and unbothered as I could and certainly not standing up and looking like I was on my way home just yet. He screwed up his face, which told me he didn't have a jack and he had probably just kissed that 3000 goodbye in his head. I couldn't help but laugh out loud when he folded, saying he hadn't caught any of it, but wasn't showing either of my cards, just in case I needed some fold equity later.
I managed not long after to knock the owner, Chad, out. This kind of move, as a newbie, will of course fast track you to some weighty respect, or possibly get you barred... He took it very well though. I had been sat to his left on the first table, he was loose, aggressive and had also been dealt some seriously good cards, the aforementioned Aces that trounced my 7s early - and quad Queens once; one of the 4 quads we saw on our table. I decided on this hand, seeing K-10 spades, to call from early-ish position, fully intending to shove if someone made me pre-flop, or on the flop seeing anything but 2 As or 3 red cards. Chad did shove, leaving me a paltry and pointless 2k when I called.
He flips A-Q off. Eeek. His A came on the flop, but so did 2 spades, and a spade on the river, while making his straight, completed my flush.
Phhhheeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww.
I realised, with the chips all coming my way to join the 2 whites that had been returned to me a minute before, uncalled, what I had done, and ridiculously apologised to him (more for the river suck out than busting him), and stood and leant across to shake his hand; anyone would have thought I was the one that had been knocked out. What an idiot. Am far too polite sometimes.
So then there were 5. 2 guys to my left that had had loads all the way through, one chap with a bit more than me and one with about the same. 4 were to be paid, 1st was getting around 380, I think, 4th getting 80 and 2nd and 3rd 200 and something and 100 and something respectively.
I think the boys had realised they were in a game now, there wasn't so much to pick between us either in stacks or ability, I felt; I could chuck out some pre flop 4x BB raises and get them to fold, in fact I had developed a thing for raising or folding pre flop and very rarely calling. I only realised I was doing it just before final table and figured I shouldn't stop then.
But then I got over excited, raising with Q-10 off, under the gun when realistically (and with the magic of hindsight) it was clearly a calling spot, at best. I am putting this down to (free) Magners and a slight case of tiredness, having been playing for 5 hours. I put nearly a third of my stack in, to hear 'fold' (Gooood...) from the next chap, but then 'all in' from the big stack, who, from what I had been able to gather, was a pretty tight but aggresive-when-needed player. Fold, fold at the other end of the table, unsurprisingly, and back to me.
Oh bugger.
My eyes roll back into my head and my brain clicks into gear.
.... So... If I call, putting my tournament on the line, but, somehow, miraculously win, I am the queen of the world; I have decimated Billy Big Stack and can push everyone else around or watch them scrap it out. This is a very good thing and, for a split second, I seriously consider this course of action.
However, if I call and see QQ, KK, AA or even JJ, another decent pair or, still AK, and (of course less likely but still possible, if he has sniffed my weakness) AQ, AJ, even A-10, and lose (and bubble) i) I am going to be absolutely livid with myself, much more livid than I already am and ii) I am going to feel - and look - really silly.
Why on earth did I raise? The cards look even worse now. Silly Hawkins.
I decide I have to fold. He doesn't show, of course, they are all speculating like me; KK, AA? The guy to my left reckons it was KK - he plays with him a lot, so I am going with his thinking and counsel, although he may just have been trying to make me feel better.
So now I am pretty short, 15k behind the next best and 25-30k+ behind the leader. I find QJ suited (spades) in the BB. I have the dealer (muscle, tattooed, baldy, puppy-eyes man) limping in and the small blind folds. I check, hoping to see either of my picture cards on the flop - and if they come, the chips have got to go in, I figure.
Flop is K, J, 3 rainbow. I gulp for a moment about the over card, but the chips are in and I am left with just my hole cards in front of me, praying that he doesn't have a King and he will either fold or maybe chase me and lose. I would take either.
He calls waaayyy too quickly for my liking; he has to have a King. This is far from ideal.
'It's ok', I think to myself, 'you can still hit another Jack or a Queen'.
Nothing I can do now anyway.
He waits for me to show. I announce 'Jack' a little bit hesitantly. He looks straight at me and, almost apologetically, says 'Trips' back to me. My eyes widen. He nods, to confirm what he has just said; like he thinks I think he is trying to mess with my head.
Ever the optimist, I suggest to myself it might only be trip 3s and the mountain might not be so high.
Then he lays the cowboys down. Oh dear.
It's a horrible feeling; for all intents and purposes drawing dead; best case scenario, drawing to a miracle. Especially on the bubble.
Nobody around the table (dares) announce that they folded one of my miracle outs. Eddie the dealer fist-taps the table, burns the top card and flips the turn. It was a 7, I think. It was low and and it was red, anyway, and therefore completely useless, so I have to go.
I shake hands with puppy eyes, thank everyone for their hospitality and wish them all luck, inside really wishing I was still sat with them and about to see another 2 cards.
I wander over to the bar, a little heavily and slowly as the disappointment really starts to hit, but pleased overall with how I played. I ask the nice guy AJ, Chad's nephew, to call me a cab to run me the short trip back down the High Road, as it's nearly 3am; Sarah had taken a cab about 40mins before as she had understandably had enough by then, even with them kindly putting the tele in the bar back on so she could watch Sex in The City between hands.
My merc chariot comes within 5 mins and I am home in another 3, get changed for bed and put my lotions and potions on.
What a good night, would have been brilliant to cash of course, and you never know with these things; one or 2 different decisions, cards or spots and I was competitive enough to have gone really deep there.
Not to worry, certainly no disgrace and I will definitely be back - happily confident I will be welcomed with open arms (and possibly air-kisses - I bet that doesn't happen much in there...).
I have a nice, new home, thanks fellas.
Neither of us really knew what to expect; we had just hoped it would be friendly to us, but to paint the picture, imagine a large darkened room, lit mainly from the lights behind the bar and over the snooker tables in use, situated at the arse end of an industrial park near the M4, with vans and Fiestas in the car park, populated exclusively by around 30-odd men, aged 35-60, mostly in tracksuits or old jeans and work's airtex polo shirts, drinking pints of Carling.
Imagine then, the stir that 2 late twenties/early 30's females could cause by toddling in; one short, curvy, northern, ballsy, blonde in summer dress and cream heels, one thin, tall, very pretty English rose-esque, shy-er brunette, in smart black trousers and top. Then multiply that stir by 10 when the blonde announces that they'd like to register to be poker members and play in the 9pm re-buy.
I think it took no more than 10 mins for the word to spread. I heard whispers of 'they're playing, you know', and 'yes, those 2 at the bar' and saw a couple of knowing/confused/beaming looks exchanged between the regulars.
So, we set about our forms and tackling our Guiness Extra Cold and Vodka, (neon, cat urine coloured) lime and soda (which together cost no more than a fiver). Before long, a slender, weathered chap with a pierced ear came over and politely confirmed for himself the rumour that we were here for the cards. He introduced himself as Eddie and extended a hand; he told us he'd be dealing and playing, as he does every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday there (he also plays in Twickenham on a Wednesday and in 2 other spots on the other days, giving himself one day a week off, never playing online as he thinks poker is about playing people not cards).
He made Sarah certainly feel at home and she was seated on his table, thankfully so knew she was going to be looked after with blind posting and what her options were in terms of checking, betting and folding. I drew table 1, seat 5.
The tournament was a £10 rebuy, 2000 starting chips, 10 quid for another 1000 if you got busted, but (seemingly occasionally and randomly) offered £5 top ups of 1000 during the first hour, regardless of stack, which seemed silly not to do at half price.
At the end of the re-buy hour, you could buy an additonal 3000 for a tenner, 6000 for a purple note and 9000 for 30 quid. Most people took 9000 which made that decision easy for me, with around only my starting stack in front of me, courtesy of a middle pair that was outkicked, a full house bettered by a bigger full house and a pair of 7s that ran into Aces.
With some chips and finally some proper cards, I called a raise to a decent player pre-flop with QQ which hit their set first card out on the board. I cunningly check called on the flop with a K and 5 also out there, and check-checked on the turn, which I think could have been an Ace, thinking back. I bet just over a third of the pot on the river when a 2 came, which he called almost as quickly as I flipped my ladies. I sensed a slight hush as he nodded 'you're good, nice hand', but I was still pretty short and only managed to mop up the blinds, shoving with KK pre flop with an average stack, of around 10 big blinds a little later.
It was a funny atmosphere, much like a home game, certainly not as tidy on the table as I am used to, even playing after hours in the office. On our first table, at least, everyone was sorting out their own change from their bets, mucked cards just went into the middle with the chips and burn cards, guys would often show the chap next to them their mucked cards, as they were throwing them away, or even fish them back out, mid-hand, to make a point about how unlucky they are. Sometimes they'd chat about the hand even if they weren't in it. While I didn't partake in any of the above, I didn't mind all that much; it was just different and a reminder, if I needed it, that no-one was taking it (or themselves) too seriously, which was refreshing.
I made the final table, happily - not the shortest stack, but way behind the 4 leaders. Sarah had gone out, very respectably, about 13th, getting them in with JJ only to be called by the big stack on her table; an athletic, mixed race guy with big scary muscles, tattoos and a shaved bald head (but yet puppy dog hazel eyes), who called and showed QQ.
At the final table, starting with the button in seat one, next to Eddie the dealer, who was now out himself, I folded lots of marginal hands, and one good one that I probably should have shove/called with, but bottled it as I just had a flash of women's intuition that the guy had a big pair and if my A didn't hit I'd be in bother.
2 of the other shorter stacks got busted out. I had checked my option in the big blind with 8-2 clubs. Flop came down J-7-2 (J and 7 being clubs). Big muscle-bound-tattooed man bets 3200, around a third of my remaining stack, with I think 2000 in there already.
I just fancied he might have gone all round it, so with my 'huge' pair of deuces but more importantly the flush draw, I pondered a moment, took a deep breath and announced all in, trying to look as cool and unbothered as I could and certainly not standing up and looking like I was on my way home just yet. He screwed up his face, which told me he didn't have a jack and he had probably just kissed that 3000 goodbye in his head. I couldn't help but laugh out loud when he folded, saying he hadn't caught any of it, but wasn't showing either of my cards, just in case I needed some fold equity later.
I managed not long after to knock the owner, Chad, out. This kind of move, as a newbie, will of course fast track you to some weighty respect, or possibly get you barred... He took it very well though. I had been sat to his left on the first table, he was loose, aggressive and had also been dealt some seriously good cards, the aforementioned Aces that trounced my 7s early - and quad Queens once; one of the 4 quads we saw on our table. I decided on this hand, seeing K-10 spades, to call from early-ish position, fully intending to shove if someone made me pre-flop, or on the flop seeing anything but 2 As or 3 red cards. Chad did shove, leaving me a paltry and pointless 2k when I called.
He flips A-Q off. Eeek. His A came on the flop, but so did 2 spades, and a spade on the river, while making his straight, completed my flush.
Phhhheeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww.
I realised, with the chips all coming my way to join the 2 whites that had been returned to me a minute before, uncalled, what I had done, and ridiculously apologised to him (more for the river suck out than busting him), and stood and leant across to shake his hand; anyone would have thought I was the one that had been knocked out. What an idiot. Am far too polite sometimes.
So then there were 5. 2 guys to my left that had had loads all the way through, one chap with a bit more than me and one with about the same. 4 were to be paid, 1st was getting around 380, I think, 4th getting 80 and 2nd and 3rd 200 and something and 100 and something respectively.
I think the boys had realised they were in a game now, there wasn't so much to pick between us either in stacks or ability, I felt; I could chuck out some pre flop 4x BB raises and get them to fold, in fact I had developed a thing for raising or folding pre flop and very rarely calling. I only realised I was doing it just before final table and figured I shouldn't stop then.
But then I got over excited, raising with Q-10 off, under the gun when realistically (and with the magic of hindsight) it was clearly a calling spot, at best. I am putting this down to (free) Magners and a slight case of tiredness, having been playing for 5 hours. I put nearly a third of my stack in, to hear 'fold' (Gooood...) from the next chap, but then 'all in' from the big stack, who, from what I had been able to gather, was a pretty tight but aggresive-when-needed player. Fold, fold at the other end of the table, unsurprisingly, and back to me.
Oh bugger.
My eyes roll back into my head and my brain clicks into gear.
.... So... If I call, putting my tournament on the line, but, somehow, miraculously win, I am the queen of the world; I have decimated Billy Big Stack and can push everyone else around or watch them scrap it out. This is a very good thing and, for a split second, I seriously consider this course of action.
However, if I call and see QQ, KK, AA or even JJ, another decent pair or, still AK, and (of course less likely but still possible, if he has sniffed my weakness) AQ, AJ, even A-10, and lose (and bubble) i) I am going to be absolutely livid with myself, much more livid than I already am and ii) I am going to feel - and look - really silly.
Why on earth did I raise? The cards look even worse now. Silly Hawkins.
I decide I have to fold. He doesn't show, of course, they are all speculating like me; KK, AA? The guy to my left reckons it was KK - he plays with him a lot, so I am going with his thinking and counsel, although he may just have been trying to make me feel better.
So now I am pretty short, 15k behind the next best and 25-30k+ behind the leader. I find QJ suited (spades) in the BB. I have the dealer (muscle, tattooed, baldy, puppy-eyes man) limping in and the small blind folds. I check, hoping to see either of my picture cards on the flop - and if they come, the chips have got to go in, I figure.
Flop is K, J, 3 rainbow. I gulp for a moment about the over card, but the chips are in and I am left with just my hole cards in front of me, praying that he doesn't have a King and he will either fold or maybe chase me and lose. I would take either.
He calls waaayyy too quickly for my liking; he has to have a King. This is far from ideal.
'It's ok', I think to myself, 'you can still hit another Jack or a Queen'.
Nothing I can do now anyway.
He waits for me to show. I announce 'Jack' a little bit hesitantly. He looks straight at me and, almost apologetically, says 'Trips' back to me. My eyes widen. He nods, to confirm what he has just said; like he thinks I think he is trying to mess with my head.
Ever the optimist, I suggest to myself it might only be trip 3s and the mountain might not be so high.
Then he lays the cowboys down. Oh dear.
It's a horrible feeling; for all intents and purposes drawing dead; best case scenario, drawing to a miracle. Especially on the bubble.
Nobody around the table (dares) announce that they folded one of my miracle outs. Eddie the dealer fist-taps the table, burns the top card and flips the turn. It was a 7, I think. It was low and and it was red, anyway, and therefore completely useless, so I have to go.
I shake hands with puppy eyes, thank everyone for their hospitality and wish them all luck, inside really wishing I was still sat with them and about to see another 2 cards.
I wander over to the bar, a little heavily and slowly as the disappointment really starts to hit, but pleased overall with how I played. I ask the nice guy AJ, Chad's nephew, to call me a cab to run me the short trip back down the High Road, as it's nearly 3am; Sarah had taken a cab about 40mins before as she had understandably had enough by then, even with them kindly putting the tele in the bar back on so she could watch Sex in The City between hands.
My merc chariot comes within 5 mins and I am home in another 3, get changed for bed and put my lotions and potions on.
What a good night, would have been brilliant to cash of course, and you never know with these things; one or 2 different decisions, cards or spots and I was competitive enough to have gone really deep there.
Not to worry, certainly no disgrace and I will definitely be back - happily confident I will be welcomed with open arms (and possibly air-kisses - I bet that doesn't happen much in there...).
I have a nice, new home, thanks fellas.
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