Saturday night I went back to Anthony's to play a few mini-tournaments. I entered three for ten dollars apiece and left empty-handed. Aaron and Anthony facetiously asked me if I would blog about the experience but really nothing sepctacular enough happened to be worth comment, except that I just never got enough good hands to make a run at the thing. I do remember being near chip-leader in the second tournament, and attempting to steal the blinds, and being called by Anthony's AQ that he limped in with. He drew out with a queen I think and destroyed my chances. Other than that, it was an evening of blinding down to the nub with bad cards, and then hitting brick walls to put me out when I tried to make a move with mediocre cards. Aaron asked for a special mention, and since he did put me out of the first tournament, I should facetiously say that his play was just unbelievably solid. Really it was a night full of luck, as Ronnie, Jeffrey, and Brandon all walked out with a share of our money.

Last night I travelled to Clay City to engage the usual crown in a cash game. Tina went with me, and lost ten dollars, but then dealt and recouped close to five in tips. I got downa couple dollars, but with the people at the table and the stacks, I decided to go ahead and reload. That paid off, as I turned it into a little over thriy before it got down to me and Kyle at the end. We batted chips around for a couple hours with not much change in either direction. Only two memorable hands and they were back to back and they cancelled each other out. One involved me catching the nuts at Mexican Stud (one down, three up, one down) and misfiguring Kyle's hand. I got him for five dollars, but he said he would have gone all-in. We started playing what may become my new road game directly after that, and due to a slight fuzziness of thinking on my part, I over-called about three or four dollars before I realized I was all but locked out. The game was Mexican Stud Low, with the caveat that all face cards were wild. That may seem like a completely silly game to some, and really it is, but I'm not against playing some silly games because I figure I am a favorite to understand them quicker and better, and look for advantages. The trick in this particular game is to assume that a hand is low, and watch only the high cards (eights, nines, tens, and pairs) that must of course still be used to make the low five card hand. In other words, all the wild cards in the world won't help you if you still have a pair of sixes showing. At the end of the evening, Kyle and I found out that the pot was short. This was of course very irritating. From now, and Cory agrees. we should elect one person banker who is responsible for handling all the money and the chips. That person would be responsible for covering any shortages in money, and would collect a small fee from each buy-in, say two chips.

I played poker with the Gabbard family last night. Anthony and I played four head-to-head tournaments, with zero gain either way. It's great practice playing head-to-head. In the past that's been a big weakness of mine, but I feel a lot better about it lately. We're supposed to possibly get into some ten dollar buy-in tournaments down in town later this evening, so maybe I will get some practice against some different opponents for some more interesting money. After the four tournaments and a quick game of chess, at which Anthony demolished me after I put up a good fight mid-game, Ramona joined us for slightly increased stakes. Anthony has been trying ot get Ramona to acknolwedge the fact of his existence while playing poker with her, and apparently wanted to put it to the test. I drew out a few times (they let me for cheap quite a bit), and I stole a few pots, and I was successful at winning both tournaments. After that Ramona went to bed, and Anthony and I hit Bugsy's Club Online. It was his money, and I don't want to elaborate, but let's just say between the two of us, we more than recuperated his losses to me.

I lost five dollars in a tournament at Cody's on Friday night. I lost a little interest after a huge party suddenly erupted around me. I understand that Nathan and Cody ended up splitting the money. Congratulations to them. Nathan was so beaten up at Belterra, I'm glad he was able to recoup a little of his losses, and actually break even this week.

After a string of several wins, I finally got my comeuppance last night at the hands of the Belterra Casiono in Switzerland County, Indiana. I lost more than sixty dollars at the 2-4 Texas Hold'em Table. I learned quite a bit from the experience, too, though, and I also had an unforgettable experience while playing. First of all, I learned that the only winner at low-limit poker in the casino is the casino itself. I set down at a fresh Hold'em table that began about 7:20. Of the ten people that sat down, myself included, when I got up to leave with a much smaller stack of chips than I started with, there was one other fellow who still had about what he started with. All the rest had either busted out, or lost enough money that they just decided to call it a night. You just can't beat the rake on a game like that. The Indiana Gaming Commission let's the casino take 10% of every hand up to five dollars, no matter what limit is being played at the table. That means for 2-4, the actual percentage being collected is right around 9.5%. For limits like the 15-30 table, the actual percentage is much, much lower because every hand the $5 cap is enforced. The reason I was able to stay in and play, even with the Draconian rake in place, was the unfrgettable experience that I mentioned earlier. I won one hand wirth over a hundred dollars. The amount of the hand is not the reason it will be so memorable though, it is what I won it with, and what I beat. I started with the jack and ten of diamonds, and in a game like this, you just couldn't get much better of a starting hand. There were frequently seven or eight people seeing a flop, and I was the only one who could resist taking a look more than once. The flop was the king of diamonds, the queen of diamonds, and the eight of hearts. Now right now I know that you probbly see where this is going, but at the time, my only thought was, "Hey, I've got a four-flush and an open-ended staright draw." The betting was moderate, but I had to call at this point, and I was glad I did when the turn was the ace of spades, completing my nut straight. Betting got a little heavier, and of course I was glad to see it do it. The only rivers I was afraid of was any diamond other than the ace or the nine, or an ace other than the diamond, or any king, queen or eight, because these guys were certainly betting like they had some outs. The river however, as you probably have figured out, was the ace of diamonds, completing my best possibly hand in poker, my Royal Flush. I'm excited all over again just writing it down right now. My thought at the time was, "Okay, some guy just hit aces full, and I have the freakin' unbeatable nuts, and this will be an excellent time to see if I can stay calm and act like nothing different." I was bet into, I raised, I was re-raised, and then the orginal bettor capped it off. I called slowly and methodically, and the guy behind me did the same. All the money that could get in was in, and that was when my ears started to burn a little. The capper turned over his AKQ98 diamond flush. The button turned over his AK for his power-house aces full of kings. I just said, "Well, I'm sorry, but I have the jack and ten of diamonds." They were so surprised they didn't know what that meant at first. So I added, "I guess that makes my royal flush." The table erupted. Immediately people started talking bad beat jackpots and special bonuses for royal flushes. I wanted to see, of course, but I said, "Well, I wouldn't mind starting with the pot." The dealer pushed it to me. Unfortunatey, Belterra offers no bonuses, not even a lousy hat. That hand made my stay long enough to be entertaining, anyway. I won't be back, though, until that five dollar rake is inconsequential.

Of all the games I can remember, last night was the one game where I would most have loved to have had the whole thing recorded with card cams and close-ups the way they do with the WPT or the WSOP. I was on fire from beginning to end. We played at Kyle’s and I took an early lead, taking Nathan W.’s first buy-in fairly quickly. He was to my left, and he normally plays very aggressively, but I was playing pretty aggressively too, and he got caught holding second best. We took a break and set up the big table (that I LOVE to play on) out in the garage. That was a good thing because the medicated body powder Kyle had sprinkled on the kitchen table smelled heavily of turpentine. I continued to bully everyone around all evening. I took the rest of Nathan W.’s money, Kyle’s money, some of Misty’s money, some of Tina’s money etc. The whole while, Nathan J. is building a nice little stack of chips. In Rounders, Matt Damon’s character says something to the effect of the pros not playing to help each other, but not exactly playing against each other, either. While a whole lot of crap in that movie is non-sense, it does make sense in one way. When I am playing with someone who I reckon to be about as good as I am, I find myself not getting in confrontations with them. I try not to get down to me and Anthony for big money, and I try not to get down to me and Nathan for big money. This went along pretty well all evening. I was building a considerable chip lead, and he had perhaps tripled up. Then, the most terrible thing happened. I got pocket tens, and was bet into moderately by Nathan. I smelled some blood, and secretly I had been waiting for my chance to take him down as I was sitting to his left. I came over the top with an all-in bet. He had about sixteen or seventeen dollars left (I can’t remember). He paused for just a second, and then apparently liking his chances or just assuming I was trying to bully him out, he called. He turned over a pair of eights. I turned over my tens, and I was of course hoping for a long run of “not-an-eights” but when the first card on the flop was a ten, I breathed a sigh of relief, having been given some insurance. My insurance was quickly taken away, however, as the second card of the flop was an eight. Still, with each of us holding trips, that only left one card in the deck that was going to do any good for Nathan: the fourth and final eight. The eight of hearts I believe it was, and it was the final card of the flop. The hand was a monster. My only hope lay in the other ten, and the bastard just wouldn’t come up. I couldn’t help but smile. Suddenly I was in a precarious position, having lost over half of my chips, and creating a new chip leader at the table. The precarious position turned back into cautious optimism, as over the next few hands I went from about fifteen dollars back to about twenty one, and I was just glad that I had not been put on tilt. I knew that Nathan’s quad eights were just the luck of the draw, and I had not misplayed the hand, and I felt good about it, so I wasn’t really ready for what was about to happen. Along came the first hand of the night that I did misplay. I got an A7o and wasn’t too happy about it, but I was in good position. The flop came 7TT. I thought, “Well, here’s a chance to give Anthony’s theory about ignoring the pair in the air another go.” Nathan checked to my right, and I bet a dollar, partly for value, but mostly hoping to run everyone off. Everyone folded, except for Nathan, and he called. For a second, I wondered if was slow-playing a ten, and I wondered if maybe he had a rolled-up pair, or a seven with a poor kicker. The turn was a king, and he checked again, more or less confirming my suspicion that he had another pair, or a seven, so I bet two dollars to try to get him off hands like QQ, or to take his money when he stayed on a seven. He called, and I thought, “Oh no, he’s made a pair of kings, and now he has two higher pair.” Honestly, the murk in my mind was mostly just murk. I had already screwed up and I just didn’t know it yet. I just felt that at the turn he had me, and what was worse, I should have never bet the two dollars anyway, since the expectation was too low. The river however was a seven, which was my savior card. It made my full house. He checked once again, and I bet three dollars for value. Nathan goes all-in. At this point, I’m thinking, “Damn, he had the seven after all, and he possibly could even have the ten. For the better boat.” I just couldn’t get off it. I wanted my half, and I was hoping it was a bluff, which Nathan is capable of, but not usually for that amount of money. I called, and he flips a ten. I’m doubly disappointed when I figure out that e still had the chip lead, and suddenly I’m out of money. I realized after the fact that it was plain that had the ten from the beginning, even though he did try to play deceptively, he just couldn’t call with much less. For a few seconds, I considered going home. At this point I was seriously on tilt, having been very disappointed in myself. Then I remembered that all that action had happened on my first five dollars, and more players were already on the way, so I decided to buy back in and give it a go. I half expected to lose my money to Nathan and go home, but I just took right off again. It was as if the whole ordeal of losing all my money had never even happened. By the end of the night I was back up to thirty-three dollars, so with Tina’s fifteen dollar loss, I made eight dollars on the night. There was, however, more drama before the end of the game.

As everyone knows, Daylan blames his poker losses on bad beats and bad luck in general. He particularly thinks that I am very lucky, while he is very unlucky. Of course, I don’t mind perpetuating this myth, and after last night I’m not even sure if it matters to him that I admit that it’s a myth. I took his first buy-in fairly quickly, having re-amassed just enough chips to be dangerous before he arrived. He complained about his bad luck, of course, and that’s why I had a moment of hesitation before I raised him two dollars after his eighty-cent raise on the blind. I did it anyway, though, as I was holding pocket kings. He raised all-in, and I thought, “Well, I guess he really is unlucky, today.” I called his all-in bet, assuming he probably didn’t have rockets. He flipped, as did I, and five not-a-jacks later he’s throwing his cards and getting up to go home. That’s when I was a bad person. I confirmed that it was only bad luck that put him out that time. He threw five more dollars at me, and I counted him out some chips. The very next hand, I started with Jd9d. That’s not a bad hand, as skippers are practically connectors if they’re toward the middle of the deck. I called the blind. The flop was Tc7d6d, giving me an inside straight draw, and a flush draw. The hope was in Daylan’s eyes already, but I could tell he was on a draw. I bet a little hoping to drive everyone out. He called. The turn was the 8h. Daylan bet a dollar, and I raised him what he had left. Before I raised him, I thought, “This is just cruel. I should just call.” But then I thought, “No, I’m not going to let his theatrics, even if they are genuine, affect the way I play. It would be dishonest, bad play, and morally reprehensible to take it easy on him just because he’s in the middle of a bad run.” I went all-in with my straight. I figured he had the same flush draw I had and was probably drawing dead anyway. As soon as I threw my money in, though, I told him, “Just fold man. You don’t want in there. Even if you have the nine, you should fold it.” I really wanted him to fold. I felt terrible about taking all his money so quickly. He thought for a while, but then he called. He showed the 4d5d, so he needed the 8d or the 3d to get the straight flush. In fairness, he could have misread my earnestness as a bluff, and he did have the little straight and the four-flush. Whether he believes he is unlucky or not, he bet all his chips on either me just trying to make an ass of him or one of two cards showing up on the river. They didn’t show. Come to think of it, I think he thinks that I make an ass of him on purpose.

I'm a little disappointed. I checked Caesar Indiana's website, and it appears that the lowest Holdem table they have available is 4-8. I will be cancelling my scheduled trip tomorrow evening, as those limits are too high for me to be able to handle the swings, or to play at all confidently. I thought that tournament the other day was risky because I started with 25 bets. In this case, I would be starting with about 12 or 13. That shortage of weapons would probably be enough to do me in. I think we may try to get a tournament going around here with a larger buy-in than what we have been having. It would sure be nice to get a $20 buy-in thing going again.Speaking of poker, I read some advice about playing poker that I think makes sense. It recommended that you start an account (preferably at a bank) where you deposit ten percent of every win you have at the poker table. If you lose, you don't put anything in there, but you never take anything at all out. That system was described as a pension plan for poker players, but I think it would work well for someone like me to build a nicer bankroll to play those 4-8 games sometime in the future. At the limits I have been playing, I could probably barely cover the bank's $6 a month account fee, but it would be worth just socking it away somewhere and pretending I don't have it, even when I'm dead broke. I could pull it out when it gets to some preset amount, say $500, and take it and start playing a few games with higher limits. I'm not saying I make five grand at the poker table in a short amount of time, but I could choose some higher percentage; half, for instance. I could probably put in $500 in a year or so. Then, assuming that all this low-limit practice has added up to something, I could start accelerating the level of winnings based on playing a higher stakes game.

I went down to Lexington last night with Nathan and Daylan for a nice little $20 buy-in seven-way tournament. Blinds began 1-2 and we only had fifty chips to start, so I expected a jolly quick one. The structure was slow as molasses, however, since the blinds only increased when a player went out, and then only one chip additional for each blind level. In other words, the heads-up action at the end was going to be six from the non-dealer and seven from the dealer, which obviously is a pretty crappy deal for the non-dealer. It was a friend game, and they seemed like a great bunch of guys. Everybody got along fine. I think they were from the WPT generation, meaning they had only been playing for a couple of years, and eventually the money floated toward Nathan and me. Nathan got lucky on the river to make it heads-up between the two of us, and his stroke of luck (really only a 17-5 draw) gave him a commanding chip lead. By that time it was 11:30, and I was in trouble at the homestead for even being in this game, so I offered Nathan a deal, at 5 to 1 payout. I took fifty, ten over my forty that I had sewn up, and he took ninety. The chips were only 7 to 2 or maybe 4 to 1, but Nathan is pretty good heads-up, and I was going to have to invest a lot of time and still get pretty lucky to turn the tables. The big factor was the sleep that I figured to be buying, though a late night trip to Steak and Shake still made it a rough morning. Overall it was a great tournament. If there was a lesson to be learned for me, it was that I need to polish up my road game a little bit. With my home game I like to keep my buddies a little on edge with some mild intimidation. They know I’m fairly good, and I like to keep them a little nervous, so that I can bluff occasionally, and I can semi-bluff a lot. I have to remember to drop that bit in a brand new game, especially one where the host can just forget to invite the new guys that took everyone’s money. It was obvious that I had played a ridiculous amount of poker by the fact that I knew how many chips everyone had all the time, that I shuffled with a flourish, and that I dealt quickly and accurately. These are all things that I could just as easily not do, and make myself seem less of a shark. I also caught myself giving someone advice that I should never give to anyone. I told him, “There is no pre-flop hand good enough to slow-play.” The various implications of that one little thing define a major difference in philosophy, and I really had no business giving anyone any advice at all. Overall, I need to remember to try to seem like I am at the same level of experience as everyone else at the table, assuming I want to get invited back. Speaking of which, in two years or so, we should have a big “Twenty Years of Poker” celebration. Details to follow.

In lieu of movie-going on Friday night, a few of us got together to play some mini-tournaments up at Anthony's. I won the first two. At the end of the second one, I was shooting it out as usual, and the method was working so well on Anthony that he thought I had some kind of tell on him. He finally got all-in with a bluff, and I called him down. It wasn't that I was reading him so well, of course, but that my strategy was designed to take advantage of any mistake he might make, and not to strike until my own position was good. The second tournament he made the same exact mistake, except there was much less foreplay. I held A2, calling from the small with no raise. Since I had been playing aggressively, he figured I had less than an ace. I limped in partly because he has preached to me so often about the weakness of the ace when the kicker is poor. He's right. The pair of aces on the flop can be disastrous when your kicker is weak. This flop, however, was AA3. I bet lightly, and he thought I was weak, because he came over the top with an all-in bet. A few things went through my mind at that point. I thought, "He has the other ace, and I can't call." I also thought, "Would he come over the top without the ace, hoping to scare me off? Wouldn't he try to milk me slowly if he had it?" What finally decided me was his chip stack. It was just too small for me to worry about him having the ace. We were playing this thing for money after all, and my strategy dictated that when I probably had the advantage I should try to take all his chips, and thus the nice wad of money put away in the card box. I told him, "I just don't think you have that other ace. I call." I flipped mine up, being careful to expose my deuce kicker, and he mucked.