A Minute to Learn; A Lifetime to Master (Dawn)

Friday night, sometime after 11:30 p.m., I decided I was done with tournament poker.
I play in a monthly tournament --- which I'll now refer to as the Buckingham Game (after Prince Charles). I
would say I've been playing there for about a year. In those 12 games, I have made the final table 7 or 8 times and cashed 6 or 7 times. Of the remaining early bust outs, three have come in the first four months of this year.
Card death, suckouts and bad play. Couple that with the early final table exit at Lady Falcon's tournament; I decided I was done with it.
The structure of the tournament have the blinds going up every twenty-five minutes, and a two max rebuy.
At 11:30, I had rebought for the second time, lost a third of my stack when, heads up, I folded second pair to an all-in by the other short stack, who turned over nah-zing.
I was sickened.
Finally, UTG+1, with like four minutes left in the 200-400 round, I had 1000 chips left and find AQoff.
UTG called and I pushed.
"All-in."
It folded around to button, a very good player, he also goes all-in with like 7000 chips, to isolate.
Everyone folds and he turns over black kings.
"That's it. I'm done with tournaments," I say.
Flop comes 7 Q 4.
Meh.
Turn: Q
Wooooo.
River? ACE.
Weeeee.
Lovin' tournaments, as I scoop in 2750, I get 66 in the SB, the last hand at the 200-400 level.
Everyone folds to me, so I move in on the BB.
HE CALLS.
The rockiest of rocks and he calls?
Yup.
JJ vs. 66.
Oh well, stupid tournaments. I quit.
Flop comes 77A.
Turn? :) SIX!
River is a 10.
Wooo, back to back full houses and I more than double up again.
I am a full round away from having to pay the 400 blind, so I wait and wait and wait.
Pocket aces in middle position! Yay.
I take down another 2000 chips and make the final table!
When I get there, I notice that I am in the bottom half chip wise, but probably at the top of the bottom.
The table is full of the strongest regular players.
I am in the six seat, the KK vs. AQ guy from above is in 7, Karol is in 8, a couple of rocks I hadn't played with before in 9 and 10, my friend Pi's boyfriend in 1, a guy who played poker on TV during the NY vs. Boston FSN face-off in 2, our host, who has played in the world series of poker in 3, the TV poker guy's girlfriend was next to me in 4.
What's that saying about not spotting the sucker...
So, yeah, pretty much your nightmare.
Karol was chip leader by a hair or tied with Pi's boyfriend.
Two players are knocked out quickly. Down to 8, Karol is BB, Pi's boyfriend calls from early position, it folds around, SB folds, and Karol knocks the table and says:
"I check dark."
I make a mental note to post about what an idiot my co-blogger is.
Flop comes 10 2 2.
Pi's boyfriend -- who is a very funny guy that makes like these crazy melodramatic faces (kinda like Layne Flack) at the table whenever someone makes a play at him, gives her his fake scary face.
She laughs.
He says "all-in."
Before he gets his two hands on the chips, (really, that doesn't even convey how fast...ok, remember that Superman movie where he had to reverse the rotation of the earth? yeah, that about captures it.)
Karol calls.
Pi's boyfriend is stunned. Six-year-old in Miami stunned.
Karol flips a J2.
He has J10.
We're down to 7.
Karol is now monster stack, there's one dude nursing his stack and the rest of us are all kinda running an even waaay second to Karol (thus, my comment to Fisch that there wasn't really an "average stack size.")
The nursing dude pushes in.
Karol calls him.
He has 99, she has 55.
Don't know what the rest of the flop was, but a five came in the window.
The rich get richer and now we're down to six.
Top five pays.
I have managed to whittle my stack down to second shortest. The guy to my left is the short stack.
Anyway, on the button I find AJo. Everyone in front of me had folded, I figured I was good against the blinds, and so I push all in for 6750 or so...the blinds are 400-800.
The SB goes into the tank.
He thinks and thinks, then starts talking about how he has a hand, blah blah blah. Goes on for like five minutes. Counting his chips, my chips, figuring out how many more blinds he had yadadayada, he decides not to risk it and folds.
Karol is BB.
NOW SHE GOES INTO THE TANK.
She thinks for like a minute and I am just like what the hell is she doing?
Is she really planning to try to bust me just out of the money with some kind of bullshit hand. (Again, I presume bullshit hand because 1) she's big blind and 2) since the SB took sooo long to act, she for sure has had plenty of time already to know whether or not to call or fold.)
So I shoot her my annoyed look (which she later describes as a 'puppy dog face') and say "Dude? What the hell are you doing?"
She sighs and folds her sevens face up.
The very next hand, the SB pushes all in from the button and she calls him from the SB.
He had A3, she has A6.
He catches two pair on the flop and doubles through her.
He doubles through her again just a couple of hands later.
Now, she's close with two other stacks for bigness and I am in the cellar with two others, but at the top of the cellar.
On the next hand, Karol raises to 3500 from MP position, (she had raised like 4 out of the 5 pots with similar amounts and showed pocket jacks twice when everyone folded) SB and BB call.
Flop comes Ace high and it checks around to Karol.
“7000.”
“I’m all-in,” says the SB (played poker on TV guy).
BB folds.
Karol calls.
She has A 10, SB has AJ and just like that she’s short stack.
She quickly pulls two Karols in a row and makes it back to middish.
The guy on my left is back to being short stack and UTG, he pushes all-in for 4500.
I have about 7000 and with 1000 in the BB, I find pocket fives.
“I call.”
D'oh!
He has 10 10.
Groan.
I have just been crippled. In sixth.
I fold my small blind and wait.
A vast world of nothingness comes and UTG, I push with J 8.
I am called by the BB who has 7 5 off.
No whammy, No whammy, No whammy, No whammy.
I get an 8 on the flop and she doesn’t improve.
Good, but with the blinds this high, not great.
Happily, she folds her SB to me in the next turn.
I fold my SB to the guy and go back to waiting.
On my button, he goes all-in, is called and busts out sixth!
I shoot my arms in the air.
The money! I haven’t seen the money in ages!!!
“Wooo, I’m all-in on every hand from now on!”
With Karol directly on my left now, I now she’s gonna try to push me around. On one hand, I fold my SB blind to her.
“Good fold,” she says cruelly as she mucks her cards.
“Well, I knew if I completed it, you were gonna raise and I didn’t wanna go all-in with that hand.”
But Karol loses most of her stack on a hand that I don’t remember and the next time I was in the SB, I look down and find pocket aces.
Bingo Bango, the Star Spangled Banner is going off in my head.
The Host of the game has the nasty habit of betting out whatever amount the short stack has in front of her (namely, me.)
The hand before, I folded my Big blind to such a raise and I eerily said “keep it up, bub. I’m going to have a hand one of these days, and when I come over the top, you’re going to be pot committed and double me up.”
Of course, he folds now that I have the aces. Bastard.
Just Karol is in the hand.
“So, if I complete this bet are you going to raise it?”
She shrugs.
“Fine. I’m all-in,” I say preemptively.
“I call.” She says. I have her covered.
She shows KQ, the table ooohs.
I flip AA. The table aaahs.
“I had a feeling you were Hollywooding over there with that little speech,” says the poker on TV guy.
Karol glares at me.
She busts out fifth.
She rebuys…I think with the specific intent of taking my money.
I fold my button and go to the bathroom.
By the time I come back, she’s busted out fifth again.
Oh well, down to four.
The host busts out next. He rebuys and busts out again.
Woo! I’m third.
I start playing waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too tight (i.e. folded A 9 off on the button tight) in the hopes that the short stack (the other girl) would bust. Instead, she doubled through her boyfriend a few times and now I was shortstacked.
I pushed all-in with K8 on my button. Got called by the chip leader who was holding K 10.
Flop came king high…but no help for Dawn.
Third place.
Karol and I drove back to Brooklyn together. She was steaming the whole way.
“You are dead. DEAD. Give me the puppy dog face ‘please don’t bust me sixth’ and then you put on an act for me with the aces? DEAD.”
Dude.
“We had the same conversation the hand prior, plus, you were calling me with a KQ anyway.”
“DEAD. I am busting you sixth from now on.”
We head to breakfast (ummm…does 4 a.m. count as breakfast?) with Fisch and recount the night.
He looks as if his head might explode as we are unable to recount exact positions, chip stacks and/or blind levels.
“Guy, if you’re looking for numbers, you’re looking at the wrong girls.”
“Yeah, really, think of this more like a Monet portrait of the tournament.”
After breakfast, we played a three handed tournament with one rebuy.
I stacked Fisch midway through level two and he rebought.
I was seriously punchy and don’t remember much about it. Karol was unusually focused on busting me. Wait…did I say unusually?
In one hand, she raised to 300 from the button and I called with KcQd. The blinds were like 75-100.
The flop came Q 4 6, two clubs.
I bet 300.
She called.
The turn came another club.
Mmm…was she on the flush draw?
I blah blah blah for a bit and decide to “bet pot, whatever that is.”
Karol goes all-in.
I don’t hesitate for a second.
“Fine. I call.”
I deal out the river and it brings a fourth club.
“I have a flush,” I say.
Karol shows a set of fours.
Now she’s steaming.
“Lucky catch.”
Fisch goes all-in with a K 10 a few hands later and I call him with AK.
Ten comes on the turn.
“Ok, she bad beat you, I bad beat her.”
“What bad beat? I had top pair,” I protest. It was really late and I didn’t yet do the “three of a kind beats a pair” calculation.
I actually take Fisch’s suck-out in stride and even mutter an F-trainian “variance.”
I stack Fisch again a couple of hands later and it’s heads up with Karol.
She has the chip lead by a bit, but ten minutes later I re-raise her on the button with 66, she pushes all-in and I call.
We are about even in chips.
She turns over 10 10.
And again, I don’t remember the rest of the flop because a six comes in the door!
It turns out I have her outchipped by 125 chips and I take down the tournament!
Karol shakes her head and bitterly comments “well, I will say I did not make one wrong decision tonight.”
Mee-owwww.
She is still smarting, so we decide to play another tournament. This time with no rebuys.
I don’t remember *anything* about this tournament except this hand.
I am short stack. The blinds are 150-300.
I am BB and Fisch moves all-in from the button. I only have another 250, so if I call, I am all-in.
Karol folds.
I have KJo.
Sigh.
“I think this is one of those ‘I have to do it’ kinda things…”
Fisch says “it might be.”
I make the call.
I get the jack on the turn, but a fourth heart on the river makes Fisch’s 8h 10c into an eight high flush.
I am stacked and out first.
The next day, Fisch says to me “what do you think happened there? I was bluffing with an 8 10 off and just got lucky? Wrong!”
Fisch likes to ask and answer his own questions.
He then goes on to explain the gap principle and how with an 810 against a random blind hand, if I called, it was probably with two big cards and with the straight possibilities and the fold equity of moving all-in, it was basically a coin flip, if not slightly in his favor. There was some other stuff but I haven’t slept more than 4 hours in the past two days, so I don’t really remember.
The very next day, at the inaugural “Gentrification Manor” poker game at Ugarte's house, F-train would give me the reverse “calling an all-in with 8 10off” lesson. Well, if by 8 10 off, I mean 4s6s.
Blinds are 100-200. F-train is second in chips and in the BB.
Zinester, Ugarte’s fiancée, pushes all-in UTG for 825.
It folds back around to F-train.
“Gah...almost 2:1 on my money. It’s close. Soo close.” Agonizing I tell ya.
I don’t know what Zinester has. She had just said something like “man, I’m getting really short stack here,” so I figured she could have just about anything…but she had been playing really solidly all night, turning over no hand less than AJ all night.
So, no idea.
But the way F-train was moaning and groaning, I figured he had like pocket threes or something.
His My agony goes on another minute.
“Dude! If it’s so close, just call already,” I say jokingly.
“Ok, I call,” he says, casually turning over SIX FOUR.
“Six high? Are you kidding me?”
Zinester has KQd.
“Well, that’s what I figured she had. I’ve got straight and flush draws. So, I’m 60 40 blah blah blah,” I am still blinded by the six high.
He hits the four on the turn and busts Zinester.
“Man, math totally just did that to you. If you didn’t hate math before, I’d kick its ass now," I say trying to ease the blow.
“Actually, I think you’re the one that told him to call…so you did this to her,” Ugarte chimes in.
Gulp.
Ok, on second thought, this is no time to place blame or kick any asses.
“I can’t wait till Dawn blogs about this, Fisch will probably comment and say it was good call and her head will explode.”
(I am fairly certain Fisch will say no such thing. –ed.)
Six high!
The Gentrification Manor tournament was a five dollar buy-in and five of the nine players hadn’t really played hold ‘em in a while…calling THREE all-ins with a Q4off kinda “while.”
Going in, I figured I was the fourth best player in the game. Unsurprisingly, I busted out fourth. More surprising, one of the people I count as better than me busted out first.
Go figure.
There was one straight donkey ass calling station (I am usually way less harsh in describing players at home games, especially admitted beginners, but since he pretty much closed Ugarte's front door behind him, despite seeing me making my way up the walk in the pouring rain, I can only assume that he figured since I was black, there was no way I could be coming to the same house he was going to…you know, despite the whole my hand on the gate and my feet climbing the very steps he just climbed.)
On a board that looked like 8 8 7 5 Q, Ugarte moved all-in with a pair of sevens at the river, and the straight donkey (read: racist arse) called him down AT THE RIVER with A 10off.
At one point in the night, someone told Zinester it was her turn to act and she asked who was in the hand. Upon finding out that the donkey had folded, her face exploded with surprise.
“WHAT??! Really?”
Oy.
He paid off F-train’s top pair, king kicker when he called alllll the way with Queen high.
Ugh.
Unfortunately, since I was splitting the dealing duties with Ugarte, I could not get a hand or hit a flop if my life depended on it. So no donkey money for Dawn.
I’d raise with A 10, get six callers and the board would come 4 4 8.
Fold.
AQ?
Raise! F-train re-reraises me pretty much all-in.
“I hate you and everything you stand for.”
Fold.
“Hey, he stands for most of the same things you do,” Ugarte points out.
Shut it. (Of course, minutes later, when F-train starts giving Charles’ brother crap about his woman not being at the game, Ugarte was right there on the “we hate F-train and everything he stands for” bandwagon. Now that is what we in the business call a callback.)
In frustration, I gave my patented “I hate women dealers” poker cry as I once again dealt myself booolsheeet.
F-train and Ugarte decide to give me a speech about aggression.
Dude, I know from aggression, but these people are GOING TO CALL.
When I have 92off, I ain’t trying to bluff calling stations with it.
Of course, feeble minded sheep that I am, their talk gets me to bluff 70 percent of my stack into a flop of three hearts with an AJ of clubs in my hand.
The wife of the donkey calls. (I am still having an internal debate with myself about whether I can transfer my annoyance at her husband onto her, such that I will be allowed to mock her hideous dye job. Once I decide, IHO readers will be the first to know.)
I check the turn, she bets, I fold.
F-train mutters a disgusted “you are pot committed" under his breath.
Dude. I was beat.
Indeed, she turns over 68 of hearts.
Great, she has called my raise with 68 of hearts?
Why’d she bother with the hair dye? A Raggedy Ann wig would have been a more plausible color of red for her.
With 325 chips to my name, I am basically all-in on my next blind.
I call Fisch to say I will come pick him up for Karol’s party as soon as I bust out “in a few seconds.”
Ugarte is dealing.
The wife of the guy calls, button raises himself all-in, SB is also all-in for 200, I toss in my last 125 and the wife of the guy calls the button’s full six dollar raise.
FOUR TO THE FLOP.
I look at Ugarte.
“Don’t let me have to question your masculinity, Ugarte. Give me a good flop!”
And I am going to need it. I have Q5off.
We all turn over our hands: Wife of Arse has Q4off, Button has AJoff, SB had like J 10.
“Come on Queen!”
Flop comes Q 7 5.
Turn is a Q!
“How much of a man am I?” Ugarte asks, dealing the meaningless river.
“The manliest!”
Wooo.
Nuts to pot commitment, I say. You gotta wait for your full houses.
Again, I proceed to deal myself shite and get whittled down again. Ugarte finally busts me with a turned pair of nines to beat my flopped sevens.
Fourth place. Out of the money. Oh well. Call it: meets expectations.
F-train busted out right after me, losing most of his chips on some insane attempt to force the calling station out of a pot.
Calling station took it down with a turned pair of twos.
He bet five dollars, into a 30 dollar pot. F-train called. “I have twos,” calling station says showing Q2off.
F-train mucks.
Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat????????????
“I can’t believe I learn from you!”
Ugarte makes a well worded crack about me being one to talk since I had already busted out.
Game goes heads up between Ugarte and donkey. I had to leave to get Fisch and go to Karol’s party before the end, so I don’t know who won.
On the way to the party, I tell Fisch about my Q5 fullhouse. He completely ruins the story at my reveal of all the hands.
“You win, right?”
“Well…yes.”
“Know how I know?”
“Cause I wouldn’t be talking about playing Q5 otherwise?”
“No. When you called, you said you’d call after you busted out. You called like half and hour later.”
Ooooohhh…he’s good. Watch out CSI guys.
Somehow, after Karol’s party, we ended up back at her place on the UES playing another three handed tournament.
Fisch and Karol insisted that we double the stakes from the previous night’s game.
“Nah…I don’t want to.” Karol and Fisch have apparently played hundreds of thousands of heads up games and I totally felt like the rube that sharks let win the first time, only to double the stakes and take all their money the next time around.
They insisted.
It was 3 a.m., so I relented.
Again, it was late, so I don’t remember that much about the tournament.
But here are the key hands.
I get called “a straight up donkey,” when I raise with A2, Fisch comes over the top all-in and I call.
I figured he was making a move on me.
Wrong.
A2 vs. 77.
Flop comes 8 3 Q.
No help for Dawn.
Turn comes 2.
Ok, not bad.
River? ACE!
Woooo.
“I hate when donkeys get rewarded for their donkiness,” Fisch says.
Well, I think that’s what he said. Hard to hear over the stacking of his chips.
Karol was all “yeah, I hate that too.”
Fuck them.
I pushed all-in the next three hands.
The third time, Karol called.
Ooops.
I had A2 again, she has A4.
“How do you go all-in with Ace deuce,” she sneers.
“How do you call with Ace four,” I resneer. (Fisch: challenge!)
I get no help on the flop, but once again, I hit the two on the turn.
“Ship it!”
Fisch is treading water for the next round and says “man, I should have won with my sevens and this tournament would be over.”
Karol was a dominating stack. “Umm…wouldn’t you still have to beat Karol.”
“I can beat Karol.”
Maybe so, but I stack him a hand later. He rebuys, but I take a bunch of that stack on his first hand back.
In the big blind I have 83off.
Everyone limps.
They are both watching me and I go for my chips.
I pick up about three hundred in chips and say “check.”
Flop comes 5 7 8.
Fisch bets 300.
I raise to 600.
“Hmm…you were planning to raise before the flop, but you decided to trap…so did you have a hand already or are you bluffing at this board now that you missed?”
He decides to fold. He flashes a seven.
I push my cards to the muck.
He breaches all poker etiquette and rules and turns my hand face up.
“Ok. Good bet. You didn’t want to see another card there.”
“Yah. Thanks. As I said to the guy at Mirage, I’ve played this game once or twice.”
“Probably twice,” he replies without missing a beat.
I have to guess that Karol stacked him, because I would have remembered the sweet sweet sweet feeling of stacking Fisch all four times.
Anyway, I am heads up with Karol, she has a crazy crazy chip lead.
I make the most headway on a hand where she completes her small blind and I check my K4s.
The flop comes two spades and a four.
I check.
She bets 300, I call.
I make my flush on the turn.
I bet five hundred.
She thinks for a bit and calls.
The river is another spade.
Fuck.
I am worried that she has the ace of spades.
I decide to take the painless band aid route.
Whatever, let’s get this over with.
I push all-in.
She calls.
“I have a jack.”
What? There are no jacks on the board.
“I have a flush!” I exclaim reaching for zee cheeps.
“How high, doofus? I have the jack high flush.”
“Oh. King high.”
Ship it!
“How do you call her 500 bet with a draaaw?” Fisch critiques.
“Well, I have the jack, what…two cards could beat me?”
Karol got in trouble. Karol got in trouble. Karol got in trouble.
She started folding her blinds to me without completing, I raised her out of some pots, called her bluffs and before long I had her on the ropes.
She pushed all in with her last 1250 and since I had my big blind already out there, I tried to apply all the advice I had gotten in the last two days.
OK, It’ll cost me another 1050 to call…1050 to win 1450. I have J9. I guess she has an Ace, soo…umm…that’s right when I realized I had learned nothing.
Or it was five in the morning and Dawn does not need to be doing math under those conditions.
One or the other.
“Eh, I call.”
HA. Suck it math. I got “Eh.”
Eh will never fail me or make me get wrinkles.
Karol has Q5 and makes a wholly unnecessary pair at the river.
Fear the Q5. All hail the Q5.
Karol folds the next hand and then I get AK on the button.
I complete the bet. Karol checks.
The board comes 10 10 8.
Karol checks, I check behind her.
Turn is a jack.
I can feeeeel it coming.
“I’m all in,” she says.
“CALL!”
She turns over 35off.
The river is a blank and I once again come back from a chip deficit to take down my second heads up game against Karol in two days.
If there’s anything better than winning a tournament after being cajoled into increasing the stakes, I don’t know what it is.
Uhmm…actually…I take that back. I do know what’s better. Sweet, sweet sleep.
Good night!