Five day stew

Not a vintage day or night. Why has the woman with the very hot body got all interested again, now that I have got back with The Girl I Am Seeing Again?

Pub with friends. Not great fun, although it was quite hilarious watching the worst NFL game I have ever seen. The Cowboys and Bears combined to produce more incompletions, fumbles, hopeless running plays and general mediocrity than I thought possible. 7-7 at half-time and one of the TDs was an interception return. I’m lucky to be a Patriots fan at the moment.

But let’s get to the cards. I contemplated going to bed and letting my refreshed bankroll breathe for a few days. But knowing I face FIVE pokerless days proved too strong a motivation to get an hour or so in.

Ninety minutes later my pathetic bankroll was another ninety dollars lighter, and I went to bed in a state of frustration, irritation, disbelief, anger and regret.

I went behind early, then built back to even and slightly ahead (the usual two tables of 6-max PLO by the way). At this point perhaps I should have gone to bed, with a small (tiny) win. Nah, stupid attitude, I was playing well. Then I caught a JJ2 flop with my QQJ3. I raised the pre-flop raiser’s bet. He called and then a short stack went all-in for fractionally more and it was back to me. I was yet to be entirely convinced the pre-flop raiser had a J (he was capable of calling my raise at this stage with AA and/or the nut spades draw) so I went all-in. I’m not playing guessing games here and getting knocked off by a scary card and bet on turn or river…

Turn was 3, making me nut full. River was 10 – one of my opponent’s six outs to take the $96 pot. I was 50% to win the hand when the money went in on the flop, and 68% to beat the eventual winner for the $57 sidepot even if the small stack had hit his (weak) flush draw. And, irrelevant but all the more galling, I was 83% once I filled up on the turn.

These things are just not going for me at the moment. I am making broadly profitable decisions, but the maths ain’t co-operating.

Mind you, there is an argument that I should have played that particular hand far more cautiously. At the time I was putting my money in, I could have been drawing very slim indeed. I should probably be avoiding those sorts of situations while my bankroll is in such dire straits. But if I am in such situations, it would be really nice to actually win one. I’ve lost the last four big pots I have been involved in, and have only been a dog in one of them.

Anyway, besides the whining, I have to admit to tilting a little after that pot, with the booze fuelling me too. I’m pleased that I had the wherewithal to recognise this fact and quit before the loss started going into three figures and who knows where.

This morning I keep telling myself it will turn. That I have to stay focussed on the right decisions, not the results and the vicissitudes of fate. I wish I could play sooner, as I have the bit between my teeth now. I may phone the hotel where I have to stay Sunday/Monday nights and see if I can use my laptop there. Doubt it though; at least not without paying through the nose.

This losing run has really hurt, because I had quite specific plans especially for December. I intended to keep the bankroll chugging along at my usual watermark level, drawing upon it on a more regular basis to pick up Xmas presents, a couple of personal treats, and so on. Instead, I am now forced to try to play my way out of a deep, deep hole before I can even consider withdrawals. And now I have to stew for five days before I can even get started. I need to use some of my annual leave from work (5 days left) and put some serious hours in.

Inside the Running Bad mind

Before:

Okay, I got a bit unlucky last night and also played a bit tilty here and there. Tonight I am focussed and ready. I know how to play this game, and I will make good, cunning decisions and let the results take care of themselves.

During:

Okay, he can’t possibly have been calling those bets with a flush draw… oh. Next hand. Right, just pair the board for me please… oh. Next hand. No spade please, no spade, no spade... oh bugger! Its gotta turn on the next hand. Ha, he’s got nothing, my two pair is going to take this down… oh nooooo!

After:

Do I suck? Why can’t I hit those long-shot rivers like everyone else? I want my mummy.

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Today I deposited some more dough. After examing how rarely I lose certain amounts of money, I opted not to top up to my usual bottom line for my bankroll. I need the money for all the usual crap in life, food and whatnot, plus I have to shell out some money to hotels for work over the next couple of weeks and will have to wait to get it back in expenses payments.

I should be fine. I’ve only lost an amount equivalent to my new online bankroll twice in three months. Fingers crossed. Actually, I now face the likelihood of barely playing poker in almost a week. I shall be spending the weekend at The Girl I Am Seeing Again’s place, then I am away for two nights for work, returning on Tuesday to go to a gig in the evening. I hope to feel awake and coherent enough to play a little after some drinks tonight, but we’ll see.

Overall, I don't feel soooo bad about these losses. A couple of 75% shots going my way and I would not have had the need to reload my bankroll. It is still a source of regret that I have to plunder the bankroll every month, too. I'd have a real healthy one by now otherwise, and would be able to experiment moving up in stakes just a bit.

Swings and down abouts

Sheesh, what a downswing.

I made a lot of good, well-reasoned decisions and plays tonight, in about three hours of play. Yet absolutely nothing would go right. I ran horribly bad and now have basically no bankroll. I will have to make a deposit on tomorrow's payday, which is going to hurt very, very badly. I really can't afford it.

I guess I must have been running really good for quite a while, because I had stopped expecting to get drawn out on whenever the money went in. But the last 48 hours have reminded me of that awful, sinking feeling every time a decent pot develops and your money goes in and the turn or river card appears and you know you just know that it will be a flush card or pair the board or make a straight or whatever the hell card it takes to fuck your previously dominant holding right up the arse... and another decent pot will slide across to the guy who made such a crap call and cannot play the fucking game to save his life!

I had this over-aggressive guy nailed on the flop, for instance. I had reraised him preflop with not all that much. The flop gave me top two pair, I raised his medium flop bet all-in, sure as can be that he had nothing. Well, he had nothing, but he called for some mysterious reason (as a 3-1 underdog) and managed to hit a bizarre runner-runner straight. Lucky is as lucky does, I guess. That cost me one of the many $50 pots of the evening.

So, lucky is as lucky does I guess. What really hurts, as many winning poker players will know, is two things:

First, the gnawing dread that ignores the evidence and conviction of your own eyes as to what has happened in a losing session - two losing sessions! - and whispers to you that actually maybe you are not that good after all and are destined to lose forever. Looking back at the records of winning sessions doesn't silence that fear. Only a winning session or three.

Secondly, the more rational fear - or perhaps realisation - that this sort of thing is an inevitable correction of a run of good fortune, which meeeeeeans that your precious hourly rate and all the half-arsed ambitions you have formed around it are just so much smoke.

As for me, I am barely above even for the month of November, I have to make a deposit instead of making withdrawals to buy little christmas presents, and I want to puke.

Below the waterline

So, last night I did indeed make one awful, awful play. I was a 9/1 dog when I tanked $40 in on the flop with just a rubbish open-ended straight draw. I thought I was making a bold move against a pre-flop raiser with unimproved Aces.. never mind that the raiser had already shown himself over two days to be reluctant to bet if he missed the flop, and the other player still to act behind me.

As it happened I made the nut straight on the turn, but was still a 2/1 dog to win the hand and indeed the river gave the pot to one of my -better-placed opponents.

On the other hand, I was a 75% favourite to win a $109 pot when all the money went in on the turn later in the night. Having that hand hold up would have made an enormous difference to my night and eventual $195 loss. So I don't feel quite so bad. But still bad!

Its not losing the money that hurts, per se. I have a bottom line for my bankroll that I refuse to withdraw, so in a way that money would never have been touched and spent anyway. What hurts is going below that waterline, so that now I have to waste time playing just to get back to par - or, worst case scenario, lose further and have to make a deposit. I really, really do not want to have to do that.

I have tended to do well when my back has been against the wall like this; I guess it promotes strong focus. I feel ready to play thoughtful, strategic poker tonight.

One thought about last night's debacle that had not occurred to me before... Playing multiple tables renders such painful losses more likely. Sooner or later I was bound to have a session where I lost on all tables. And if I tilt a little then I am potentialy throwing money away on more than one table!

Why is it that of all nights, my mother had to choose last night to ask whether or not I was winning?! When I foolishly/truthfully said 'No, not tonight' I got a fairly ignorant barrage of concern about gambling and how its impossible to win, isn't it?

It better not be!

Reality check

I'm still up at twenty to one, even though I would prefer to be in bed. The reason for this is that my fucking site takes about two hours to get hand histories up, and I simply have to look back at how badly I played and ran during tonight's two and a half hour sit.

I'm somewhat stunned by losing almost $200 in two and a half hours. I probably shouldn't be, because pot limit omaha is constantly described as featuring massive swings - but somehow I seem to avoid those swings, perhaps because I mostly play people who don't force you to make difficult decisions on big bets nearly as often as they should. So tonight was probably bound to happen sooner or later, but it still hurts.

I am getting over it fairly quickly, though, even though this one session has decimated my proud hourly rate in one fell swoop (just proves I need more hours to have a clue about my expectation). I know I will most likely keep winning about two out of three sessions, and will bounce back. The worst thing about this session was the timing, coming the day I had reluctantly withdrawn a fairly hefty chunk of bankroll in order to pay off another debt.

No, the worst thing was that I certainly contributed to my own downfall in parts. I got a little tilty after going behind early on, mainly because I had taken a number of middling-to-bad beats. I threw off some dollars for sure, including $40 on a weak flopped straight draw which I know I would normally have thrown away with only a tiny twinge of regret.

I played like a sucker, basically. I also lost a couple of big pots that I could easily have won, even if I was going slightly uphill. I don't go uphill in a hand often, and it feels like I never get there when I do.

But enough self-pity. My site is finally giving up the information, so I'm writing it all down and will feed the numbers into twodimes tomorrow and see how bad one or two of my plays were. Or weren't.

Oh, all of this provided a reality check after I had played almost faultlessly for two hours on Monday afternoon and won $87. There could hardly be a bigger difference between the way I played just thirty hours apart.