Stupid Poker Rules—Capped Bets in No Limit Games

Tonight I played a session (badly) at the Meadows ATM (full report of my ineptitude to be posted later).  I ran into a weird situation which I have seen on occasion—a "capped" bet in a no limit game, without any player being all-in.  That's right, a supposed "no limit" game actually had limited betting.  Let me explain.

I had been at the table a couple of hours when two regulars sat down.  Somehow, this precipitated a bunch of straddling and blind raises, culminating in one ridiculous hand.  UTG straddles to $4, and UTG+1 decides to make a joke blind-raise to $6.  So, one of the newbies to the table decides to make it $8 to go, also blind.  Then, another regular, known for uber-tight play, decides to make it $30 total, again blind!  Now, I'm in the cutoff, but I'm essentially acting in early position preflop, hoping to pick up a hand.  Unfortunately, I have some trash like 93o, and fold 

That's when the stupid rule comes into play.  The button looks at his hand and says, "raise".  The dealer politely informs the button that he cannot raise, because the hand is capped.  The house rule of one bet and four raises, except for action that begins heads up during a round, applies to no limit as well as limit structured games.  So, the button calls, as does basically every player left, and six (6!) players see the flop of K-T-6.  One of the early position players bets, folds to the button who wistfully shows me Yaks before folding.  The monsterpotten ends up being won by AT when he rivers a Ten for trips.

Although I have seen this capped betting rule enforced previously, I think the rule simply doesn't belong in no limit play.  Essentially, this rule deprives players who have not yet acted in a betting round of their right to act on their hand with a raise to any amount (up to their stack).  The whole point of no limit play is to be able to size one's bets to the given situation, but this rule acts to give players in early position a "heckler's veto" (or joker's veto) over a late position player's right to act on his hand, when he hasn't yet had any opportunity to raise.  In theory, a group of five players could transform a supposedly no limit game into a fixed limit game with a maximum bet of five big blinds per round.  Although this situation is exceedlingly rare, in this particular hand it cost a player a shot at winning with a strong hand—Yaks on the button—in favor of hands that would never have seen the flop if there truly were no limit to the betting structure for players who had not yet acted in a round of betting.

The cap on bets per round is another limit structure concept—like the "half bet" raise rule, where a raise all-in of half or more of the pending raise reopens all betting to further raises—that really has no place being applied to no limit structured games.  It's time to either ditch the capped bet rule in no limit structured games, or to stop pretending that there is no limit on the structure, and just go back to limit stuctured games.

No More Mr. Nice (Catch) Guy

I used to be such a sweet, sweet thing,
'Til they got a hold of me.
I opened doors for little old ladies,
I helped the blind to see.

I got no friends 'cause they read the papers,
They can't be seen with me.
And I'm gettin' real shot down,
And I'm feelin' mean.

No more Mister Nice Guy.
No more Mister Clean.
No more Mister Nice Guy.
They say he's sick, he's obscene.

—Alice Cooper

I played a short session at the Meadows ATM after work Friday, and it was a rollercoaster.  Early on, I donked off half my stack, flopping altos dos pairs with 98s, but my opponent pushed the turn when an Ace fell.  It felt a lot like she had hit Aces up, but there were a lot of draws she would play that way, so I agonized a bit and made the call; she rolls over A9, natch.  But I got healthy shortly after, when my A5s flopped the nut boat—A55—and got doubled up by AK unimproved.

In some strange hands, a guy played 7c4c for a raise, and flopped the 7-high straight flush.  Guess it's the magic of the crubs.  Later, a guy raises on the button, and I call in the small blind with a sooooted Spanish Inquisition (6-3).  Flop gives me a gutshot straight draw, so I call a small c-bet.  Turn and rivers are blanks and we go check-check.  Other guy says, "I can't win" and is itching to muck.  After a couple seconds, I say, "6-high" and roll my hand.  Other guy laughs and rolls over his own Spanish Inquisition for the chop.  Then, for the pèce de résistance, I play QhJh, and flop the monster draw—KhTh4s.  I check, a guy bets, a lady pushes, I call, other guy folds.  Turns out I'm up against a set of 4s.  Turn is the beautiful Ac for Broadway, but the river is the Ks for the boat.  Le sigh.  It would've been awesome if I could've hit a King-high straight flush in hearts for the second week in a row, but regrettably, I left my Infinite Improbability Drive at home.

In any event, this session also marked the start of my self-imposed ban on the use of the phrase, "Nice catch."  For those of you who haven't played poker with me, I like to think I'm a goodfella at the table, keeping things light with jokes and witty banter, always trying to be polite, never tapping the glass.  But, I do tend to be sarcastic, and when I get annoyed, my go-to sharp barb is, "Nice catch."  I am a veritable Baskin-Robbins of different inflections on the phrase—biting, cutting, derisive, dismissive, acidic, caustic, snarky, snide, sarcastic, and sardonic—I've got the full spectrum of tonal flavors. 

During my marathon session last week, I found myself saying "nice catch" a lot more often than usual, primarily because the crazy loose action initiated by a rotating group of poker gamblers resulted in a high degree of bad play, which seemed to be rewarded with ridiculously improbable frequency.  But, as I later reflected on the session away from the heat of battle, it occurred to me that the entire point of poker is to encourage players to chase improbable hands.  We should want players to chase gutshot draws, to call preflop three-bets with dominated hands, to play seven-deuce (or other "favorite hand"), to ignore pot odds, and to be oblivious to kicker problems.  In fact, we should want other players to suck out.

Now, we all know the pain of a bad beat.  Why on earth should we welcome suckouts?  Because they reward bad players for their bad decisions, guaranteeing they will continue to make similar bad decisions, and continue to chase bad hands for good money.  Out on the casino floor, the pit bosses don't get upset when a gambler hits a longshot bet at high but bad odds.  Nope, they smile, knowing that same gambler will continue making similar bad bets until all his winnings, and likely more money from his wallet, are resting securely in the casino counting room.

The same principle applies in poker.  Why get upset with the maniac who seems to be hitting every hand, building up a monster stack?  How often do those players keep their monster stacks?  Just like with the casino gambler, the poker gambler almost always gives back his winnings, plus interest.  Although a sarcastic "nice catch" might feel good momentarily, it really is a form of tapping the glass.  Hearing "nice catch" tells bad players they are playing badly, which is information they really should learn on their own (hopefully very slowly).  Hearing a snide remark also reduces the fun the bad player is having, making him less likely to continue gambling.  Above all else, do anything possible to make sure a bad player has a great time while losing his money!

So, beginning with my last session, I have banned myself from saying "nice catch" at the poker table.  If I do, it means a redbird fine, paid as a tip to the dealer who is being subjected to my personality that particular down.  So far, one four hour session, only one fine.  To that lucky dealer, let me just say, "Niiiiiccce catch, Vinny!"

KISS-ing at the Meadows ATM

Yesterday, I mediated a lawsuit, and was able to get a good settlement hammered out in what was a difficult dispute.  Since the mediation ran long, I decided to call it a day and headed to the Meadows ATM for a short, impromptu session of 1/2 NLHE.  Thursday afternoons and evenings are generally good for fishing, with the evening tournament and the weekly 5/5 PL mix "big game" bringing in gamblers and bad cash game players; to this day, I'm continually amazed at how poorly some tournament players adapt to the cash game mileu.

I got right into a game (there were two 1/2 NLHE games running, along with a 3/6 LHE, and two tables of the 5/5 PL big game), which had an interesting mix of a couple of aggro regulars, and several passive newbies.  I got off to a good start when one of the aggros went on tilt and decided to stack off to me by semi-bluffing his middle-pair and gutterball draw into my altos dos pairs to the tune of about $275 profit.  I then had to endure the bad kind of Yak—the loud Yakker next to me who couldn't stop chatting with me with a base volume level equivalent to a Metallica concert.  My left ear was seriously aching when I finally busted him, flopping a pair and the nut flush draw and calling his all-in semi-bluff (he had a naked non-nut flush draw).  Sometimes, this game is easy!  But I have a new appreciation for dealers who are forced to sit next to chatty players, and simply grin and bear it.

There was one amusing moment early on, when a nice lady moved to our table.  She had $320 in chips, and the dealer politely told her that she could only bring on $300 because of the table change.  The lady said, "I'm so sorry!  I didn't know that rule.  I've never had this much money before!"  Another of the regular gals commented, "I didn't sleep very well last night" while another of the regulars was walking by; right on cue he said, "Well, you were sleeping like a baby when I left!"  Everyone cracked up; there's just something fun about playing with friendly folks.

I had an incredibly fun and profitable session (up four buy-ins in roughly five hours!).  But I never had any true monsterpotten after that initial near double-up.  Instead, I pretty much went to Value Town, getting paid off time and again by players who are unconcerned with kickers or are overly concerned about being bluffed, resulting in a steady stream of small to medium-sized pots.  I've been running well the past month or so, in part because of some timely good cards, but largely because I have adapted my game fairly well to the KISS concept—Keep It Simple, Stupid.

After several losing sessions a few months back, I decided I was facing far too many tough decisions, and those tough decisions were usually in big pots, which is not a profitable situation.  So, I've made a few adjustments:

• Bluff and continuation bet less—In many cases, players in the games I play simply aren't going to lay down top pair.  So, I've dialed the two and three barrel bluffs way back.  Also, if there are more than two other players to the flop with me and I miss the flop, I just don't c-bet.  There are so many better places to put that $25-$50 to use, usually in value-betting or stealing an orphan pot.
• Use more squeeze plays—This play has gotten a lot more lucrative recently, in part because of the trend by many players to limp-reraise with Aces and Kings in early position.  It's usually fairly easy to get a table trained to consider $12 a standard preflop raise, and to get 3-5 callers of a $12 raise.  Then, a healthy raise to $50-$60 usually can steal a nice pot without a flop.  I like to have a good hand the first time I make this move, so I can roll over something like AA-JJ, just to reinforce that I'm doing that trendy limp-reraise move.  Then, every now and again I'm able to make that exact play with literally any two cards.  I've found this to be a much lower risk-higher success rate play than c-betting on the flop, for roughly the same return on investment.
• Observing the "big pot-big hand" rule—Frankly, this might have been my biggest leak earlier this year.  It's easy to get caught up in an aggro war where second pair might be good enough to win a $300 pot.  But over time, it can be expensive betting and calling light.  So, generally speaking, if it looks like a big pot is brewing, I get the heck out of Dodge unless I have a real hand.  I may let the occasional nice pot slip out of my hands by folding, but this adjustment has been a definite profit saver.

Also, as I've logged more hours recently, I feel my reads are dialed back in, which has helped me with the rare tough decision.  But poker is much easier when I'm not putting myself in the spot of making a lot of tough decisions.  Of course, it doesn't hurt to also run well!

Speaking of running well, I didn't have any crAAKKer hands, but I did have one statistical variance box (SVB) hand.  I was on the button and it limped to me, so I raised to $12 with 88.  I got four callers, and we saw a flop of Q-5-5 rainbow.  Checks to the guy on my right, who bets $15.  Now, the guy in the 10 seat—the big blind this hand—was very tight and had folded to my raise.  But he was also a Chatty Kathy, and couldn't resist talking to his buddy in the 9 seat, even during hands.  As the flop hit, I saw him lean over and whisper to his buddy and shake his head, so I was pretty sure he had folded a 5.  I also didn't put the bettor on a 5, as he was a trappy player.  So I called, figuring he had a pocket pair or a queen, and I might be able to take the pot away on the turn.  But we got one other caller as well, so I figured he likely had a queen, and I would need to catch an 8 or bluff an Ace or King.  The turn came another 5!  Chatty Kathy positively radiated that he had folded the case 5, so I was pretty sure I was up against assorted queens and pocket pairs in my two opponents.  Same guy bet $15 again, and again we both called.  River was an 8!  Donkey Kong!  Same guy bets $15, I raise to $65, both guys call, both guys show 5s full of Queens, both guys mutter in disgust as I torpedo their U-boats.

Like wine, sometimes a hand needs to mature.

Queens Flame Out at The Meadows ATM

With the holiday weekend coming up, my poker buddy "Jugweed" twisted my arm into playing the Thursday night donkament at the Meadows ATM.  Well, he emailed me to suggest we hit up the tourney, and I decided it was a great excuse to get out of the house for some poker.  "I would love to stay home tonight, but Jugweed really wants me to go, and it's his first night free in months ...."

The tourney itself was rather typical; players get T2500 in chips, with 20 minute levels.  Early on, I built up a few chips with a couple of good starting hands, but I crashed out in the second level when I made a semi-bluff with Ac6c on a two-crub flop.  I got called by QQ (overpair to the board), so my Ace was live as well.  Brick-brick, crubs inexplicably failed to get there, and I got to go play cash games.  Yippee!!

There was a wild 5/5 pot limit mix game going (Hold 'em, Omaha, and Omaha8), but the game was a little too deep and crazy for my blood.  Because I was seated at a 1/2 NLHE game next to the "big game", I got to see at least a dozen pots over $5,000 being pushed (and a couple over $8,000), and stacks seemed to range from $1,000 to $7,000.  The game has been running regularly for a few months now, with a lot of the deep-pocket degenerate gambler types moving from the 2/5 NLHE game to the mix game for the added action.  Some of the play I saw in the Omaha games was pretty atrocious (playing two pair in Omaha, playing for low only in Omaha8 and getting quartered or worse), but the variance has to be enormous.  It will be interesting to see how long the game continues as the wilder players have to be burning through bankrolls a lot faster than at the 2/5 NL game.  Of course, most of that crew are plenty wealthy, and poker is more their gambling table game of choice than a game played for profit.

My game started off fairly standard, but it took a turn for the wild side when a couple of LAG maniacs started getting in a raising war.  Pots got huge, and it felt like we were playing a 1/2/17 game, with preflop raises routinely getting called in 4-6 spots.  In no time, there was a ton of money in play, with multiple players busting and rebuying, while pots over $300 were common.  Of course, the LAG factor pumps up the volatility of the game severalfold, but it similarly pumps up the profitability potential if you properly adjust your game and look for good places to skim the cream off the top as the LAGs churn the action.

One of the LAGs would likely merit a fullscale rant if he ever ran into Poker Grump.  "DV" is a young guy, likely mid-20s, who is uber-aggressive in a way I associate with players who play a lot of online tournaments.  He probably plays 80% of hands, and invariably raises when first into a pot.  DV also rarely folds before the turn, often betting or raising the flop, and occasionally calling to set up a bet or raise on the turn.  He is certainly fearless, and upsets many of the nittier players with his style.  But DV also has a number of quirks I find amusing but which are generally viewed by others as annoying.  First off, he rarely shuts up, yapping away no matter what is going on.  Second, on nearly every hand that doesn't go to showdown, he plays the Grand Inquisitor, grilling the players:  "Flush draw, right?  Overpair?  Two pair?"  I played into this game by alternately agreeing with his read, and simply making up hands; it was actually quite hilarious to mess with DV's head.  But DV's most obnoxious verbal tic was, when in hands he folded before the river, he would claim to have laid down a hand that would have won.  Although DV racked up a big stack, he eventually went bust when a few of his big bluffs were picked off.

I was planning to head home, when the 5/5 big game broke up, and one of the players decided he wanted to donk around in our little game.  "CD" is a good player, but he clearly likes action, and he blew through several buy-ins looking to juice up our game.  We're talking big preflop raises, semi-bluffs for stacks, and calling down light.  Well, in the space of a couple of hours CD did juice up the game, but walked away with none of the money he put into the game.  To him, though, it was little more than chump change.  Thank you, come again!

By this point, it was early Friday morning, and I decided to stay and play short-handed to keep the game going.  Just another public service from your friendly neighborhood crAAKKer!  Speaking of crAAKKing, I only had one memorable big hand, but it was a doozy.  I was in the big blind, and there was a middle position raise by a LAG player.  A couple of callers, all standard for the table.  Then, the button 3-bet to ~$35.  I look down at Jh9h, and decide to call, as I figured there would be at least another two callers behind, and the implied odds for a big pot were high; plus, I had a huge stack and was looking to find big pots to play where I could leverage my chips.  The flop comes out Qh-Th-9s.  Donkey Kong!  I led out for about 1/3 pot, wanting to build a pot for my monster draw, looking to set up a play for stacks against a shorter stack, or a semi-bluff against a bigger stack.  There was one caller to the button, who moved in for about $250 total, so it was roughly $200 more for me to call.  I figured that the button likely had an overpair or at worst a set; the only credible flush draw he could have was AhKh, so I was either ahead with my pair (and blocking his flush draw), or behind but drawing to the world.  What I didn't want was an Ace-rag flush draw calling behind, so I pushed to clear the field, and the field obligingly folded.  My opponent showed QcQs for my worst fear—top set—so my two pair outs were, well, out.  The turn was a blank, the 7s.  But the river was the beautiful Kh for the straight flush!  So, in a bit of orientational irony, a gay guy used a straight flush to beat a straight guy's set of queens.  In addition to a nice pot, I got a $200 high hand jackpot bonus.  Not bad for a statistical variance box.

By early Friday morning, the regular 6/12 Omaha8 crew was straggling into the room.  I've played the game a few times, and the regulars are mostly semi-retired guys with a lot of money and free time.  They are a pretty friendly and entertaining bunch, prone to busting each other's chops in a good-natured way, and a few of them sat in our game waiting for the Omaha game to start.  I took one more big pot down when I turned the nut straight, but had to dodge two flush draws.  Unfortunately, I gave most of that pot back with an ill-timed bluff, so I decided to cash out up over three buy-ins.  It was my longest session of poker outside of IMOP in years.  Such sessions are usually -EV for me, but the unusual confluence of factors made this a perfect storm of profitability.

Given the theme of today's post, take a look at this interesting fellow who cashed out late Thursday night.   I have to say that this particular sartorial scenario was eye-popping:  aqua polo, pink shorts, rainbow colored braided belt, navy fitted baseball cap, and boat shoes.  Truly an outfit fit for a queen!

An extra from "Miami Vice" cashes out at the Meadows ATM.

Mind Reading at the Meadows

You were lookin' for that third three, but you forgot that Professor Green folded on Fourth Street and now you're representing that you have it.  The DA made his two pair, but he knows they're no good.  Judge Kaplan was trying to squeeze out a diamond flush but he came up short and Mr. Eisen is futilely hoping that his queens are going to stand up.  So like I said, the Dean's bet is $20.

—Mike McDermott (Matt Damon) in "Rounders"

Last night I snuck away for a short session of Poker! at the Meadows ATM.  I ran into an early cooler when my deuce-four of crubs was snapped off by absolute trash.  The board ran out 4-4-8 / 2 / 9, and we got it all in on the turn, where I discovered I was drawing dead against 8h4h.  I expected Poker Grump to promptly remit my "Deuce-Four Cracked" promotional rebate, but was rather disappointed by his response:

@grange95 I got you a full house. If you can't win with it, that's your problem. #noskill #lackoffaith #whiner

—@PokerGrump 

Seriously, this wasn't some standard bad beat story, my freakin' deuce-four of crubs, arguably the strongest hand in poker, got cracked by some yahoo playing rags!  It's so improbable it deserves a little venting, particularly after Poker Grump posts all that propaganda making the deuce-four seem invincible, as if all you need to do is get dealt the hand and watch the chips roll in.  In my best Penn Jillette impersonation, I officially call "Bullshit!" on the myth of the deuce-four.  Harrumph!

However, crAAKKer is not built around whining, at least not my own.  So we move along to the real point of this post.  After rebuying, I built up a nice stack of ~$800.  No real big hands, just a couple of nice squeeze plays and value-betting my good hands to death.*  Toward the end of my session, a regular named Brian sat down at our table.  Brian is probably late 20s, nice guy, and a very solid poker player whose game I respect.  One of the top 10 biggest pots I've ever lost was to Brian in a 2/5 NLHE game where I flopped a set of Yaks against his set of Queens; I swear, I came this close to laying the hand down, but I'm just not that good of a player.

In any event, I wasn't looking to play big pots with Brian if at all possible, particularly after he built up an equally large stack in under an hour.  However, a pot came up where we had a small clash.  I was on the button, and five or six layers limp to me.  I find black 9s, and raise to $17, a little on the steep side, but much less would get a cascade of callers.  It folds to Brian who calls, and we go to the flop heads up:  Ks-Js-6c.  Brian checks, I c-bet $30, Brian calls.  Turn is the Ts.  Brian leads out for $50.  I tank, trying to think of a hand I could beat.  After I had thought a bit, I looked back at my cards as if checking for the As, to try to get a read, and maybe make a move.  Brian suddenly says, "Pocket 9s are no good."  I just laughed and said, "In that case, I guess I have to fold" and mucked face up.  Brian laughed and said, "Wait, pocket 9s were good!"  I honestly don't know if I was ahead, behind, live, or dead, but I was happy to get away for minimal damage.  After all, there's always a better place to get it in bad!

I see your Aces getting crAAKKed.

--------------------------------------------------------------

* I did get black Aces under the gun (my only AA of night), so I limped, and of course, this was the one unraised pot that orbit.  Anyway, I manage to turn pocket rockets into a crub flush draw.  Obviously, crubs got there, so I did win a decent pot, despite my incompetence.

Poker Judo at the Meadows

"We know you can fight fire with fire, but what is wrong with fighting it with water sometimes?"

—Bob Ciaffone at CardPlayer.com (hat tip to Poker Grump)

Judo is a martial art form based on the concept of using an opponent's aggression and momentum against him.  A classic example is where an attacker charges at an opponent and, rather than striking out at the attacker, the opponent steps aside and trips or throws the attacker to the ground, using the attacker's momentum to aid in the throw.

Judo can be loosely translated into English as "the way of gentleness".  Poker strategists have hammered home the exact opposite strategy—aggressive poker is winning poker.  In fact, the two profitable styles of poker—tight-aggressive (TAG) and loose-aggressive (LAG)—each directly state that aggression is a key component of the underlying strategy.  But, there can be such a thing as excessive aggression, even in poker.  Sometimes, a gentle approach is the most profitable.

Last night, I played a short session at the Meadows ATM.  After donking at 3/6 LHE for 30 minutes, I finally got a seat at one of the two 1/2 NLHE games; let's just say limit is not my best game.  In any event, I quickly discovered that there was a three-way cock-measuring battle going on at the NL game, with three aggro guys trying push people—mostly each other—around.  At least one of these guys raised nearly every hand, and most of these raises were called by at least one of the other aggros.  Check-raises, pushing with draws, floating to steal, position raises, these guys were doing it all, but doing it with pretty average stacks of $150-$250, as the rest of the table played nitty and took chunks of the aggro-stacks when they hit the rare monster hand.  These guys also made it pretty clear this was all about machismo, with lots of table chatter about why they made plays, why their plays were great, and why their opponents were idiots.  I found the whole situation amusing and potentially profitable.

In my experience, the macho LAG player might run over passive opponents, but his excessive aggression offers an opportunity for a trap play for his stack, or at least a large chunk of it.  Two big hands from my session illustrate this point.  In the first hand, I limp in middle position with 97s, a classic trapping hand.  Uber-aggro makes a standard button raise to $12, the other two aggros call, and I call to close the action.  The flop is K-9-3 rainbow.  Interestingly, it checks around.  The uber-aggro passing on a c-bet here likely means he hit the king and wants to get tricky.  The turn is a 7—Donkey Kong!  Checks to me, and I throw out a weak looking half pot bet.  I want it to look like I'm just taking a stab at the pot, in case one of the aggros wants to try to bluff me off the hand.  Sure enough, aggro on the button insta-raises to $60, folds to me, and I call, wanting to look weak and not scare off my prey.  River is a deuce.  I know aggro can't help but bet a king here, nor can he help trying to bluff if he has nada.  I normally value bet this river, but here, I check.  Uber-aggro obliges me by betting about half the pot, which is roughly a third of his remaining stack.  I raise all-in, uber-aggro calls, and proceeds to whine about how his top pair got run down (though he never showed his hand).

Aggro guy goes to the ATM, returns with $300.  He is clearly on tilt, and spews off a little over $100 in the first orbit, getting resistance to all of his plays.  In early position, I find pocket 9s and limp, looking to play for set value, or possibly a preflop squeeze play.  Aggro guy again raises in late position, gets called by the two fellow aggros and another player, so I call as well.  This is not a bad spot for a squeeze play, but even aggros get hands, my call closes the action, and the implied odds from a set are huge, so I opt for the conservative play.  The flop comes out K-K-4 with two spades.  Checks to me, and I decide this is not a bad board to bet at, so I fire out for $45 into the $60 pot.  Aggro insta-pushes for ~$200 total.  Folds back to me.

Now, this is a pretty polarizing bet.  Aggro is representing a king, which would leave me drawing to two outs at best.  But, if he has a king, why push here?  If he flat calls, he may get more action from the aggro players behind, and one of them may even make a move.  Pushing feels like he wants the field to fold, though he may also be afraid of flush draws.  But, why not make it $100 straight, with $100 to push on the turn, if he wants to fold the draws?  If he has a king, how can he expect to get called by a weaker hand?  His play really felt a lot like a nut flush draw.  I finally called, and the board ran out 3-9 (both red)—Yahtzee!  Aggro guy asks, "Miss your flush?"  I just sat there and waited for him to show.  He again asked if I had missed the flush.  Although the 20 questions routine is a pet peeve of mine, given the strength of my hand, I said, "I hit the river, but I'm pretty sure I didn't need to."  I rolled my boat, and aggro came unglued.  He started muttering about "getting two outed again", but he didn't show his cards.  Aggro continued to fume about having his trip kings run down until he left to hit the ATM again.  I'm almost positive aggro had a flush draw, not that it really matters.  Aggro managed to tilt off another two min-buys before calling it a night.

So, two hands against an uber-aggro player, two feltings.  Just a routine double-ippon for a red-belt poker judo player!

ADDENDUM (20 JUNE 2010):  Somehow in the editing and posting process, I lost a reference to Poker Grump's excellent take on taking on table bullies.  His words of wisdom (and some from Mike Caro) are worth a read.

Why I Play Live Poker

There are a number of reasons I prefer live poker to online poker, but high on the list is the social aspect of the game.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still playing to win and enjoy making money, but playing live adds the opportunity for some amusing moments.  Last night, I booked my first winning session of the month at the Meadows ATM; not a huge hit (thanks to two coolers), but still a profitable evening.  It was also one of the more pleasant evenings of poker I've enjoyed in a while, as there were no curmudgeons or d-bags, and plenty of friendly chatter.  A few particularly amusing moments:

* * * * *

Two younger kids on my left started chatting, turns out they went to schools relatively near each other in rural Iowa.  As the discussion turned to sports, the conversation went like this:

Kid 1:  You ran cross country?  Did you know "Joe Smith"?
Kid 2:  Well, I had to switch schools before junior year because I got in some trouble.
Kid 1 [laughing]:  So, you do know Joe Smith!
Kid 2 [laughing]:  Yeah, I know him.

* * * * *

In one strange hand, there was an early position raise to $12 from a loose player.  I called with T9s as did three other players.  Then, a solid player in the BB reraised to $42 total.  The original player called, and I figured the reraise was most likely a squeeze play with a wide range of hands, so I called, as did the other limpers.  The last guy was a short stack with just $43 total, so he called rather than put in his last $1.  The flop came out A-K-Q rainbow, it checked to the shortstack who threw in his last $1, which we all flat-called getting 210:1 pot odds, quite possibly the best pot odds I've ever been offered.  That's right, a $210 pot became a $215 pot.  Then, to make matters more bizarre, it was checked down the rest of the way, and the shortstack won with AQ.

* * * * *

At one point, a player made a comment that another player was acting like he was on TV, playing in Poker After Dark or High Stakes Poker.  Suddenly, "Big Mike" (a regular) pipes up with his suggested TV show—"3/6 at Breakfast", featuring nits playing 3/6 LHE in the morning, chasing draws, complaining about bad beats, getting their Aces cracked, and obsessing about hitting the bad beat jackpot.  Seems like a reality TV winner ...

* * * * *

Finally, a hand went down where one player flopped top two pair, and another player floated the flop with overcards.  The floater ended up going runner-runner for a straight and the win.  The losing player took it well, but jokingly said to the dealer:

"Hey, I know you! You deal on Full Tilt!"

Dogs & Cats Straddling Together

A couple of nights ago, fellow Ironman Barbie texted me to tempt me into a session at the Meadows ATM.  Regrettably, I had actual work to do, and couldn't get away on short notice.  However, hilarity ensued as Barbie dusted off his uber-maniac schtick and tried to roll the midweek nits.  I knew I was missing out on a fun session when Barbie twittered this gem:

At Prairie Meadows but no Grange95. Table just tried to pay for Fred's straddle so I could post a pic. #floordenialoffun

10:44 PM May 11th via twidroid

Now, for those of you from outside Iowa, Fred is a legend in the Iowa poker scene.  Fred is a semi-retired businessman who has been fairly successful in life.  He enjoys playing poker, and is a regular at the Meadows ATM, and gets to other Iowa and Midwestern poker rooms on occasion.  Fred is a good guy, generally friendly and talkative at the table, and never mean to anyone.  Fred is also an Uber-Nit. He only plays solid hands (usually pocket pairs and big Aces), and will fold his small blind to a limp.  Fred also has a habit of overbetting his premium hands, which leads to some legendary blowups when he suffers the inevitable suckout or bad beat.  Fred is known to talk to himself while wandering the halls after a bad beat, and curse up a blue streak when he gets snapped off.  He has also perfected the perfect nit play of hitting the 2/5 NL game and waiting to win one or two big pots, then running off to a 1/2 NL game where he is forced to squirrel away his profits and only risk a small stack the rest of the night.  If you want to needle Fred a bit, ask him how to play AQs preflop—Fred once folded that hand to a reraise, only to discover he would have hit a royal flush against a player with quads, qualifying for the fairly sizable bad beat jackpot.  Ahh, fun times!

So anyway, I had a good chuckle at the crazy notion of Fred straddling, even if the other players were putting up the money.  It reminded me of a night at Treasure Island (excuse me, "TI") during IMOP-IV when I prop bet our resident nit, JB-DIA, to straddle (the nickname stands for "diamonds in azz" referring to his ability to turn coal into diamonds with his tight play).  Apparently the influence of a half dozen caipirhanas was sufficient to loosen him up, and he not only straddled, but also raised his straddle to $45!  Turns out he had 98 sooooted, and won a big pot when he flopped two pair.  Those nutty nits!

However, Barbie wasn't finished.  After the floor put the kibosh on the table straddling for Fred, apparently he succumbed to the peer pressure himself:

Yes, chaos at PM as Fred straddles with his own money... @grange95 missed it. #catsanddogsetcetc.. http://twitgoo.com/veujq

11:42 PM May 11th via twidroid

And with the Tweet was this photographic evidence of a nit in the wild, straddling:

Yessiree, right there in the gray jacket is none other than Fred, with $4 in the pot ... without having seen his cards!  Inconceivable!  Did hell freeze over?

Dr. Peter Venkman:  This city is headed for a disaster of biblical proportions.

Mayor:  What do you mean, "biblical"?

Dr Ray Stantz:  What he means is Old Testament, Mr. Mayor, real wrath of God type stuff.

Dr. Peter Venkman:  Exactly.

Dr Ray Stantz:  Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling!

Dr. Egon Spengler:  Forty years of darkness! Earthquakes, volcanoes...

Winston Zeddemore:  The dead rising from the grave!

Dr. Peter Venkman:  Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!

—"Ghost Busters" (1984)

Of course, the entire scene is most likely a hoax, like the jackalope or the moon landings.  Still, it's fun to think a nit might someday, somewhere, be found straddling ...

ADDENDUM (14 May 2010):  A commenter pointed out that the picture above left is not a true jackalope, but rather is a "rabeer" (cross between a rabbit and a deer).  So, below is a picture of a jackalope:

Molasses Poker

The past few months, "Rush Poker" on Full Tilt Poker has electrified the online poker world.  The concept is simple—see a hand you don't want to play, hit "fold" and be instantly whisked to another table where another hand is already waiting your attention.  The genius of Rush Poker is it allows masochistic nits to click-click-click until they find Aces or Kings, so they can overbet them, get them cracked, and go on super monkey tilt ten times as frequently as regular poker.  By all accounts, Rush Poker is apparently profitable and addictive.

Friday night, I played a session of poker at the Meadows ATM that can only be described as the absolute antithesis of Rush Poker—Molasses Poker, if you will.  My table had mostly players with short stacks of $50-$200, and the play was nitty-passive.  Given the nature of play, most speculative type hands were off limits, and I was reduced to waiting for so-called "premium hands"; there would be few "crAAKKing" opportunities at this game.

Now, just in case the short stacks weren't enough to suck the joy out of the game, the players stepped up to assist.  The table had the biggest collection of players who either couldn't keep track of the action or who had to think deeply about every routine decision.  I doubt we got in more than 20 hands per hour.  Trust me, when you're waiting for playable hands, that kind of table is almost as annoying as being stuck behind an Amish or Mennonnite buggy in a lengthy no-passing zone.

"Is this Vegas?"  "No, it's Iowa."

One of the worst slowpokes was a young kid who was obviously rather new to live poker.  He had trouble keeping track of the action, in part because he was wearing headphones, and in part because there wasn't a flashing light or alarm sound when it was his turn to act.  I would've cut him some slack, but he also was one of the three or four guys who liked to do the dance of the seven veils at showdown, utilizing the incredibly obnoxious "20 Questions" routine with the occasional change-up to the "One Card Monte" trick.  It was so bad, the dealers on at least three occasions had to tell the guy to roll over his second card so they could ship him the pot.  Although I understand the desire to be helpful to a newbie, at some point the easiest way to teach a lesson is to simply award the pot to the player with both hole cards showing.  I guarantee you it would cure the problem instantly.

Unfortunately, the most obnoxious etiquette breach of the evening occurred on my last hand.  Although I had built up a $250 profit early with a couple of sets, I had given a lot of it back when I ran trip tens into a U-boat, and had two flushes chase and hit against my two pair and a straight. On the final hand, I played A8 from the button for a limp in a straddled pot.  I flopped top pair with the 8 on a rainbow board.  It checked to me, and I made a small bet, getting a couple of calls.  The turn was an Ace, giving me top two pair, and putting a spade flush draw on board.  I bet 2/3 pot, and got one call.  The river was a baby card that completed the backdoor flush.  My opponent checked to me, and I pushed for his remaining stack, around $60.  My villain sighed and assumed this pose for the next 30 seconds:

Auguste Rodin makes the taserlist!

After thinking for a while, then rechecking his cards and thinking some more, my opponent made the call.  I announced "top two", my opponent paused for a moment, then dramatically threw over KsJs for the stone cold nuts!  That's right, not only was I slowrolled, I was slowcalled.  I can understand doing some Hollywooding when there is action remaining, but here, the only thing my opponent had to decide was whether to call with the nuts—I would actually have preferred the "snap call fist pump" with some Hevad Khan theatrics to the slowcall routine.  I made a snarky comment—"Tough decision to call?"—then decided to head home even though I was playing well enough I would normally have stayed a few more hours.

Of course, on the drive home I was pulled over by one of West Des Moines' finest just as I was turning into my development.  The officer claimed my brake lights were not working, but after he looked me over and glanced at my license, he verified that, much to his astonishment, my lights were working just fine and sent me on my way.  Nice try fishing for a DUI bust there, bucko.  Although the incident took five minutes at most, it was just the pickle on the sh*t sandwich that was my evening. I took that as an omen not to play poker Saturday night, and instead caught up on some TiVo'd shows.  Yup, my life is one thrill after another.

Incidentally, the reigning world champion for most offensive slowcall has to remain this one (hat tip to Pokerati via the Grump):

Crazy Eights at the Meadows ATM

I played a six hour session last night at the Meadows ATM.  I got up early when I had pocket 8s twice flop sets, and I made two good reads/hero calls for decent pots, but no real monsterpotten as much of the table was playing rather short.  Then came up the hand of the night:

I straddled UTG for $4.  There were several callers back to me, and I found AJo.  Figuring I was ahead of the field, I popped it to $29 straight to take it down or get heads up.  Of course, I get three callers ... establish tight image, check.  Then, the SB (a solid regular) repops it to $129, leaving himself ~$150 behind.  I thought a bit, and decided none of the remaining players could have a real hand, given the action to that point—the three limp-callers had all passed on two shots at raising, while the SB would never have limped a strong hand.  I decided that SB likely had a small PP, thought I was full of bovine excrement, and was trying a squeeze play.  I immediately decided I should crush his dreams.  I rerepopped it to $299 total, and got one caller all-in for $109 total, while SB thought a bit and reluctantly folded.  Flop was KKJ, followed by two baby blanks, and my hand was good.

Of course, instead of cashing out +$550, I stuck around another hour and managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.  I ran into the table luckbox/maniac twice and donked off ~$300 to his improbable two pairs and straights before he gave away all my chips plus his buy-in to the rest of the table.  A horrid misread and a bad crying call dissipated the rest of my profit, and my buy-in went up in smoke when variance turned my two hot hands into a cooler.  I had AJ, flopped top two pair, and ran into a flopped set of 8s (in unrelated news, Dealer Jim has plummeted 10 spots on the official Grange dealer rankings).  Nothing better than combining bad luck with bad play.

The entertaining moment of the evening occurred when a guy in his late 20s got a text message from a college gal he had hung around with last year.  He asked us to interpret her message:  "You should make some loves on me."  The table decided it was a typo for "moves", and encouraged the guy to head out and pick her up from the bar where she was having a fight with her boyfriend (the genesis of the text message).  He decided to play it cool and stay and play poker.  So, for over an hour the entire table took turns needling the guy over how he should leave and get the girl, knocking him off his usual solid game.  I might possibly have had some small part in keeping the heckling going.  In any event, just more proof that sex-tilt is a dangerous thing—women truly are the rake!

Another Night at the Meadows

Last night I made my return to the Meadows ATM after a month or so layoff, recovering from two Vegas trips, getting caught up on work, and getting some quality time in with Berkeley now that the weather has turned Iowa-spring beautiful.  I was afraid there would be some rust, but I made two early hero calls (JJ on a K-Q-x flop, and calling with bottom pair to catch a busted flush draw) to build up some chips.  But then I made a great call with KQs on a flop of Ah-Kh-Tc, to find I was up against the T-high flush draw (as I expected).  The turn was a Q to steal some more outs, but the river brought the 3h.  Ouch.  Rebuy!  Ooops.  Error.  I made two donkey plays—paying off a rock with TPTK when he caught his 3-outer for two pair, and trying to bluff a calling station when a flush draw hit the river.  I also flopped the nut boat with Q9, got it all-in against QT, but the river was another 9 for a chop that felt like a loss (though in fairness, about half the money went in on the river when I knew a chop was likely).  So, I called it a night.  Bad luck + bad play usually is a sign that it's time for gin.

There was a fun hand that went down shortly after my 1/2 NL table opened.  A young kid had just taken a big hit, and was looking to push with his last $30-$40.  Someone raised preflop to $12, kid and a couple others call.  Flop is Tc5d3s.  Kid pushes for $25, gets called by one player.  Kid shows QcJc for no pair, no draw, and is up against QTo.  The poker gods smiled on the kid, however, throwing out runner-runner Ac-Kc for the backdoor royal flush!  Kid made a nice pot and a $200 high hand jackpot.  Pretty sweet!

* * * * *

Today was a gorgeous day, sunny, light breeze, upper 60s this morning.  So, the sig other and I took Berkeley to nearby Raccoon River Park for a walk on the nature trail around Blue Heron Lake.  Berk did the usual dog head-out-the-window thing on the drive over, and had a ball on the walk.  We also checked out the doggie park, and we'll likely sign Berk up once he gets past his overly-friendly puppy phase.

Anyway, as we walked, the sig other reminded me that today was the birthday for our gal pal who went with us on our recent spring break Vegas trip.   I texted her a birthday wish:  "Happy Birthday! Rigor Mortis!", referring to our running joke since St. Paddy's Day on the Strip.  Of course, about an hour later, the sig other happens to mention that our friend was driving to an uncle's funeral this morning!  Yeah.  Awkward.  Maybe I'll nominate myself as "D-Bag O' the Day"....  Thankfully, she hadn't even thought of the awkward connection when I texted an apology.  As for the sig other:

Gee, you know that information really would've been more useful to me YESTERDAY!

—Robbie (Adam Sandler) in The Wedding Singer

Joining the Hive

"You will be assimilated."

—The Borg, "Star Trek: The Next Generation"

Friday night I played a short session at The Meadows ATM.  It was one of those sessions where you feel like you never do anything right.  My first hand, I have Presto and turn a 5 for a nice pot before my chips even reach the table.  But then, my stack got flushed.  Literally.  I ran top two pair, two straights, and a baby flush into flushes, which is not a particularly profitable approach to the game.  Thankfully, my Spidey sense kept my losses somewhat limited.  The pickle on the sh*t sandwich that was my session was when I flopped an OESD with 64s on a board of 5-3-3.  I bet the flop and got a call from an uber-tight player.  Turn is a 7.  Donkey Kong!  I bet, he calls.  River is a blank, so I push my last $100 into the $400 pot.  He reluctantly calls with ... 73s, and says, "I was worried you had pocket 5s again."  I wish.

I headed home to watch some Olympics with the puppy in bed.  I fell asleep around 3:00 am, and I woke up around 5:00 am and heard Berkeley on the floor, chewing something.  Turns out it was several somethings:  a toothbrush, a razor, and ... my BlackBerry.  All were in pretty sad condition:

Puppy Chew Toy

As an amusing touch, I checked the still-functioning BlackBerry later in the day, and discovered Berkeley had somehow managed to call one of my friends at 3:38 a.m. and leave a six minute voicemail message, presumably of him chewing and slobbering, but who knows, maybe he barked something insightful.  I suspect my buddy was passed out and never heard the phone, or more amusingly, was perhaps drunk and thought he was getting a steamy booty call.

So yesterday I had to venture out in search of a new phone.  Since I have AT&T coverage (the sig other has an iPhone), my options were somewhat limited.  After some online research, I narrowed my choices down to a couple of BlackBerrys.  But the A&T store at the mall across the street only had one of the models I was interested in, and no staff interested in helping me.  So, I headed up the street to Best Buy.  Turns out they were running a special deal for their Rewards Zone members, where a 16GB iPhone 3GS was going for only $99.  So, I went with the iPhone.  It took about 30 minutes for the staff to set me up.  I left and went to make a call in my car when I discovered the phone was not in the box!  Hmmm, awkward.  I was heading back into the store when I ran into the salesperson who had assisted me, running out to the parking lot with my phone.

Anyway, I've been hearing iPhone users rave about their phones for several years now, and it always seemed a little over the top, like those too cheerful cult members passing out propaganda on the street corner.  Well, in less than 24 hours, I've joined the iPhone cult.  The dang thing is just ... slick.  The touchscreen is huge compared to the BlackBerry.  The interface is incredibly intuitive; no guessing where settings are located as with the BlackBerry.  Applications (pardon me, "apps") are easy to find, quick to download, and a snap to install.  I've added four apps so far, and none of them took longer than 2-3 minutes total to find and install.

Among the apps I've installed are a free Blogger app (BlogPressLite) that will let me update my blog on the go. I also added a free Google app that will let me access my documents and other Google programs quickly.  But, my new favorite app is TweetDeck, which is a huge improvement over the Twitter app I was using on my BlackBerry.  TweetDeck took less than a minute to install, as opposed to the BlackBerry where installing a Twitter app required me to find it on the internet, download it, then endure a complicated set up procedure.  TweetDeck is also a great app since it allows me to set up different "columns" or groups/categories of people to follow.  This enables me to follow the Ironmen separately, for example.  Just from browsing the app store, I fully expect I will downloading apps for days, like a puppy looking for treats.  Just so my iPhone doesn't become a puppy treat ...

For those of you losers out there who don't have iPhones, go get one!  Now!

"Resistance is futile!"

Poker Odds & Ends

While I work on creating a few pages for Ironman of Poker information, I’m skipping a regular blog post for the day. Instead, I’ll share a few random items of note from recent sessions at Riverside ATM and the Meadows ATM.

* * * * *

At Riverside, I watched a 2/5 NLHE table while waiting for a seat. This was the main game with a must-move feeder game. There was easily $15K to $20K in play, more than I’ve seen on any 2/5 NL table. By the chatter, the game was filled mostly with regulars who weren’t afraid to put a lot of chips into play, running big plays, and calling down light (often correctly). One hand, there was a $10 straddle, a raise in early position to $60, and five callers. The flop came down J-J-x, and after a bet, a raise, and a push all-in, everyone folded to the all-in raiser who tabled J2o as he raked the pot. From the chatter, this seemed to be a typical hand. Crazy.

* * * * *

Also at Riverside, I flopped a full house with K8s and stacked JJ. A couple of hands later, I play 64o for a raise OTB and again flop a full house. Donkey Kong!

* * * * *

At the Meadows ATM, someone jokingly suggested giving up poker for Lent. An older regular player said, “Jesus wants me to play poker. My priest just gave a sermon about being fishers of men.”

* * * * *

My string of winning sessions at the Meadows ATM came to a crashing halt this weekend. I built up a nice stack with a great hero call for a $250 profit, but gave it back plus a couple of buy-ins when I ran a flopped second nut straight into the nut straight, a flopped flush into a bigger flush, top two pair into a rivered straight, and pushing with a pair plus straight draw against TT and … TT, and blanking out. Eh. Such is statistical variance.

* * * * *

Iowa Casinos Win a Jackpot

The Iowa supreme court handed down an interesting decision Friday related to the Meadows ATM. The court’s decision in Blackford v. Prairie Meadows Racetrack & Casino, Inc. considered the question of whether a person who had been “trespassed” (permanently banned) from a casino, but later plays at the casino and wins a jackpot, is entitled to be paid the jackpot.

The timeline of relevant facts makes this a rather complicated situation:

• August 1996—Blackford punches his hand through the glass front of a slot machine. He is ejected and advised he is permanently banned from the casino. He also pleads guilty to criminal mischief and is fined.
• March 1998—Blackford is found on the casino premises, and is escorted from the building. He pleads guilty to trespass and is fined.
• 2000—Blackford writes to Prairie Meadows to request his ban be lifted. It is contested whether the ban was lifted. Prairie Meadows has no written record of lifting the ban, while Blackford contends the ban was lifted by a letter (which he was not able to produce at time of trial).
• January 2006—Blackford applies for and is issued a Prairie Meadows slot club card. He uses the card on at least one occasion between January and May 2006.
• May 2006—Blackford wins $9,387, primarily through slot machine play, including a jackpot. Upon cashing out, the size of the jackpot required issuance of a W-2, at which time the casino discovered Blackford was banned. Blackford was taken to a security office, his winnings were confiscated, he was required to sign a form donating his winnings to a local gambling addiction treatment program, and finally he was charged with trespassing and released.

Backford filed suit to recover his winnings under a theory of conversion (intentionally depriving someone of property). At trial, a jury found that Blackford’s ban had not been lifted, and the trial court ruled this meant Blackford had no right to his winnings as no legal wagering contract had been formed between Blackford and the casino. The trial court was reversed on appeal by the Iowa court of appeals, which held that no statute or gaming regulation explicitly permitted confiscation of gambling winnings when the winner was subject to a permanent ban.

On further review by the Iowa supreme court, the court first looked at the casino’s right to permanently ban individuals from gambling at the casino. The court determined that gaming regulations permit a casino to “eject or exclude” a person from its premises literally for any reason whatsoever, so long as it is not based on a constitutionally protected classification (e.g., race, gender, national origin, or disability).

The court next looked at the effect of a ban on the ability of the banned person to wager at a casino. The court first noted that all gambling and wagering contracts are void unless authorized by statute. Further, even legally permissible casino wagers are subject to traditional contractual requirements of offer, acceptance, and consideration, as well as any terms or conditions imposed by statute or regulation. The court then examined the nature of the wagering contract and determined that the casino was only making a wagering “offer” to those persons who were legally able to gamble and who had not been banned from the casino. In other words, Blackford, subject to a permanent ban, could not reasonably have believed himself to have been among the group of individuals to whom the casino had extended its wagering offer. Because the casino never intended to extend a wagering offer to Blackford, there was no contract, and thus Blackford had no right to recover the confiscated winnings.

At first blush, the court’s decision is really rather straight forward. From a policy point of view, it is easy to side with the casino—if you get banned from a casino, don’t expect to get paid if you go back and gamble. There are also enforcement considerations in play, as it is unrealistic to expect a casino to be able to track every person gambling on its floor at a given time. It is inevitable, even with stellar security, for some banned or ineligible players to make it into the casino. When those players are discovered gambling in violation of the law, it is easy to conclude that a forfeiture of their winnings (if any) is an appropriate sanction.

However, a few troubling implications arise from this decision. First, it seems highly likely that Blackford wagered and lost on at least some of his bets during this session, and perhaps prior sessions. Now, if the court is correct that no wagering contract could arise between Blackford and the casino, then Blackford’s losing wagers were likewise not legally binding contracts. So, if the casino has no legal obligation to pay Blackford on his winning wagers, how can the casino legally keep his losing wagers? The court had no reason to address this issue, however, because Blackford never made a claim for refund of his lost wagers. The court did note that some legal authority suggests equitable rescission is an appropriate remedy for voiding illegal wagering contracts (resulting in a refund of the wager), but the New Jersey federal court case cited in the decision arose from a legal gambler who felt he had been improperly denied a slot jackpot. In a situation involving an illegal gambler—like Blackford—courts are much less likely to be sympathetic to a claim for equitable rescission of a contract. Nonetheless, it seems rather inconsistent to permit a casino to keep money won from illegal wagers, while not refunding money lost on illegal wagers—what’s good for the goose should be good for the gander.

The second troubling implication of the court’s decision is that casinos seem to have little incentive to actively discourage banned patrons from returning to the casino and gambling again. If the banned player loses money, the casino keeps the money. If the player wins, the casino confiscates the winnings. It’s a win-win for the house. Now, it might be difficult to catch banned players at the entrance, but here, the player signed up for a slot players club card. In an industry that tracks gaming play to the nickel, it seems rather implausible that a casino would not cross-reference slot club applications against its banned players list. Even if the casino did not do so in this case, the capability to do so should place a responsibility on a casino to take reasonable steps to prevent banned players from placing wagers, if in fact the casino does not desire to accept their wagers. If the casino knows a banned player is making wagers and accepts those wagers, the casino should be required to pay off those wagers.*

The final troubling implication is the nature of the forfeiture of Blackford’s winnings. It is one thing to determine that a wager was illegal, and thus need not be paid by the casino. It is another thing altogether to require the banned player to “donate” his confiscated winnings to a charity designated by the casino (even a well-intentioned gambling addiction program). Now, nothing in the court decision commented on the method of disposal of the confiscated money, and it appears the issue was never raised by Blackford. As a practical matter, it probably makes little difference whether the casino requires the banned player to make the donation directly, or does so indirectly as a matter of casino policy for distributing confiscated wagers. But in an age where civil forfeiture laws are commonly used (and abused) to seize property, permitting seized winnings to be funneled to the casino’s charity of choice seems ripe for abuse. This is particularly true where, as here, the casino is closely tied to the county government, though it is not difficult to imagine private casinos funneling seized winnings to charities associated with influential lawmakers and regulators.

The moral of the story is not only clear, but entirely predictable—In the long run, the house always wins.

---------------------------------------

* Rescission, promissory estoppel, estoppel by acquiescence, or unjust enrichment would be possible equitable theories of recovery in such cases. However, the highly regulated nature of casino wagering might preclude any equitable remedies altogether. If so, then the only possible legal remedy would be enacting a statute or regulation to cover those types of claims.

Bludgeoned by the Deck

Poker players notoriously love to whine about bad beats and losing streaks. There's almost a perverse enjoyment of the misery of losing.

I much prefer having fun at the poker table, like last night's session at the Meadows ATM. IMOP buddies Santa Claus and Mr. Chow were in town for business and talked me into playing a few hours, bless their hearts! When I arrived, the guys were playing in the 2/5 NLHE feeder game—rookie mistake. Thursday night is one of the two big NLHE tourneys, and the post-tourney 1/2 NLHE cash games are usually soft. I was soon seated in a new 1/2 NLHE game that was starting once a tourney table broke. I locked up my favorite seat—the 3 seat— which was easily the best decision I made all night.

The omens were auspicious—several young players I didn't know and a couple of regular tourney players (who suck at cash games) were at the table. Then, dealing for the button I hit the Ace of spades.  Excellent. That's when I proceeded to get bludgeoned by the deck:

• First hand, playing my rush, I have 92s, flop is A-2-2, and I take down decent pot from A-rag.
• My first BB, call small raise with 53o. Flop a pair of 3s with gutterball draw, hero call 3 barrels, river puts four diamonds on board, and my 5d is good to snap QQ.  Establish tight image—check.
• I get AA OTB, raise to $12, get 3 callers.  Flop is Ten-high with two diamonds.  I bet, get called in two spots.  Turn is a black Jack. There is a bet and a raise all-in, but it wasn't much considering pot size. I reluctantly call, only to have initial bettor push all-in!  Aaaiiiiyyyyaaahhh!   I tank, but finally call hoping I have a shot at the sizeable side pot.  River pairs the board (7s), and my opponents roll over ... KTo (no draw), and JdTd!  I rake a monster $750+ pot.  This was my only tough hand of the night.
• I get AA in the SB, raise, get a couple of callers.  Flop is 7-A-7.  Donkey Kong!  I end up stacking a guy who overplays A-rag.  Thank you, thank you very much.
• I get Yaks for the first time, raise in the CO, and smooth call after my raise gets repopped.  I flop top set and wind up cracking QQ.
• I get 44 OTB and wind up cracking and stacking AA when I flop a set.  Hmm, "crackin' and stackin' " has a cool "Ricky Bobby" sound. May have to use that one on IMOP.
• I get 22 in the BB and stack KK when I flop a set.
• Hand O' the Night—I stack Uber-Nit for ~$330 when I raise OTB with A6o and he limp-calls UTG.  Flop is 6-A-6.  Donkey Kong!  Uber-Nit checks, I bet, he pushes, I make the hero call.  He shows AK, and wonders why he lost.  Hilarity ensued.
• On back to back hands, my 32s in the SB turns a wheel, and my 87o OTB flops the nut straight.  Regrettably two rather smallish pots, as everyone was running scared from my SVB run.
• My buddy Mr. Chow picks the wrong hand to try to bully me when he bluffs off his $250 stack into my ... AA.  Thank you, come again!

Quite a rush, but I think I was blessed by the poker gods for observing the Deuce-Four high holiday.  Ironically, my three 2-4 hands all whiffed, but I think a set of 4s and a set of 2s—each stacking a supposedly "premium" hand—certainly qualifies as a successful holiday run (and it sounds like the Poker Grump ran quite well for the holiday as well).

Not only was it a profitable session, the table was as fun as I've seen outside of Vegas.  Early on I decided to play my "table clown" persona, and it worked to keep the table happy as they kept losing chips to my SVB run.  I even bought three rounds of drinks, making sure to joke that I was buying with someone else's chips.  There were a couple of young guys at the table from out of state, and I spent the night poking fun at them, and they loved it.  There were a ton of funny slams traded around the table, but I don't recall any now.  However, my buddy Santa Claus had the quote of the night.  After one of the female dealers was telling us about a party where the host had served Rocky Mountain Oysters as a poolside snack, Santa pipes up:

It's not a party until you're sucking down some testicles.

And he's supposedly the straight guy ...

I sensed my SVB rush had ended, so I locked up a tidy profit:

In a game where I'm happy to make $300 in a six hour session, I averaged $300 per hour.

Sometimes, I play so good.

POSTSCRIPT:  Santa Claus stayed and played a while longer.  As I was cashing out, he hit quad 5s and doubled though the table yahoo for a $700+ pot.  Later, he flopped the joint with A3s for another monster pot.  Add in $500 in profit from the 2/5 NLHE game, and Santa can pay his elves their unemployment benefits this month.

Although he gacked off a couple of buy-in this session, Mr. Chow was sitting on a nice $2500 score from the 2/5 NLHE game the prior night.  All in all, the IMOP crew made a nice withdrawal from the Meadows ATM.

Return of the crAAKKer Effect

The queens we use would not excite you.

--Murray Head, "One Night in Bangkok"

I played a short session at the Meadows ATM Sunday evening. The game was very tight-passive, and it was hard to get any traction. I deliberately played LAG, but could get no action on my AA or flopped set of Kings. My least favorite hand (KQ) flopped bajos dos pairs, I get it all-in vs. a short stack for $80 each, he shows A-rag ... and it goes running J-T for the Broadway chop. Eventually, though, I manage to stack off when I flopped altos dos pairs with T9, turn tens full, and lose to a better tens full when an Ace hits the river. Sometimes, this game is a lot of fun. This session was not one of those moments.

The game was also incredibly boring, with several regular nits in the game after busting out of the tournament. So, I pulled out the new iTouch (Christmas gift from the sig other) and watched Ocean's 11 and Ocean's 13—best gift ever. Midway through the second movie, a young kid walks in and is sent to my table with $100 in chips. Three of the nits had all just racked up, so the Kid can pick from three spots—one on my immediate left, or two at the other end of the table. Of course, he chooses to sit by me. Clearly, this will not end well for the Kid.

Kid posts in, but seems uncomfortable with chips. The next hand, he tries to post in again—looks like we have a live play newbie. Kid settles in and folds for a couple of orbits. Finally, Kid raises in EP to $8, on the small side for the table. several callers, but I fold my junky BB—Kid clearly has a hand. Flop is Ace-rag-rag. Kid bets $20, gets one caller, a scruffy and slightly crazy looking dude. Turn is another Ace. Kid bets $30, Scruffy calls. River is another Ace. Kid goes all-in for ~$45. Scruffy pauses, then calls. Kid rolls over QQ. Scruffy pauses, then rolls over A3o, obv. Kid looks like someone just kicked his puppy.

Kid stands up, dealer asks if he wants his seat locked up. This is sort of like a horror flick where someone asks the hot chick if she wouldn't mind splitting off from the group, and maybe taking a solo shower to boot. I can see it happening in slow motion ... Kid standing and thinking, Kid pulling ATM card out of wallet, dealer pointing to ATM machine in hall, Kid nodding, dealer throwing out the "reserved" button ... The tragic end is already written, and who am I to interfere with the will of the poker gods?  I go back to watching Brad Pitt and George Clooney exchanging snappy dialogue.

Kid returns with $150, posts back in. Kid folds to prefop raise. False alarm, but the clock is ticking. More hands get dealt, Kid continues to fold. Eerie music begins to play in the background (or maybe it was just the Grammys). Kid finally open raises, this time to $10. He gets a couple of callers. Flop is Q-T-8, rainbow. Checks to Kid, he bets ... and there is a raise! Kid pushes all-in! There is a call! Kid shows QQ again (what, my brilliant foreshadowing didn't already tip you off?). His opponent shows ... J9o (c'mon, you knew villain was hiding under the bed with this hand, didn't you?). Turn and river are blanks, and Kid exits stage left, looking like the nut straight had been a kick straight to his nuts.

My "crAAKKer effect" powers have grown to include coolering pocket Queens. You have been warned.

Poker with the Joker

One of my fellow Ironman of Poker (IMOP) running mates was in town last night, so we played a short session of 1/2 NLHE at the Meadows ATM while watching the Vikings-Saints NFC Championship game.* I had one of those frustrating sessions where I always seemed to be out of step—bluffing into the guys who can’t lay down middle pair, then failing to make a river bet against the guys who had a weak hand or missed draw. I wish I could say I was card dead, but I had AA three times (all small pot wins), KK three times (two small pot wins, one medium pot loss), QQ once (small pot win), and JJ/TT three times (all small pot losses). Of the four monster pots I was involved in, I won one with a great call, and lost the other three to draws that hit after the money (or the bulk of it) went in. I ended up down 1.5 buy-ins, but thankfully that was well-covered by my shrewd sports investments.

The poker game, although not profitable, did have a high #hilarityensues quotient. Early on I won a nice pot when I had AKo in the BB. I flop Broadway, but the board is all clubs and I don’t have one. There is a pot-size bet, and two of us call. Turn is 9d, small bet, followed by push all-in. I think a bit, and since I know this guy, I figure he has either the Kc or 9c, but is not made yet. I push over the top to get last player to fold, as I put him on a set or baby flush. He indeed shows 6c5c and mucks. Other guy in fact has KcQs. River is 6s, and I am off to a good start.


About this time my buddy, Barbie (@IMOPbarbie), arrives. Barbie’s style of play is best described as “demented-aggressive”. He is the “Joker” of poker players (the Jack Nicholson incarnation). Barbie’s pet hand is 63 (he calls it “the Spanish Inquisition”), but honestly, he’d raise with the proverbial Tarot card and napkin if he was bored (i.e., had folded before the river two hands in a row). On our last IMOP, he ran over two Scandis to the tune of at least $2K in profit, and left both rolled up in the fetal position sucking their thumbs after trying to figure out what had happened. He’s also the (former) owner of Fuzzy Puppy (a trained attack dog / card protector), who mysteriously disappeared at the last IMOP home game. Oh, and I drafted him (Barbie, not Fuzzy Puppy) for my team for this year’s IMOP. I mean, if the guy can pull off the epic “Meat Tank” prop bet (which required him to go all-in at a cash game at TI, then pull out and eat a leftover BBQ pork rib), why wouldn’t you want him on your team?

Barbie taking candy from Scandis at Planet Hollywood.

Barbie performing the Meat Tank at TI.

Anyway, I have a stack of ~$500 and I’m feeling good. Then, I run into a cooler. My nemesis at the table—let’s call him “Mr. Chow”—limps in MP. I find JsTs OTB, so I raise, and Mr. Chow calls along with a couple of others. Flop is a gorgeous Qs9s7h. Checks to me, so I bet around 3/4 pot, Mr. Chow calls, and another guy calls. Turn is the 8d—Donkey Kong! Checks to me, so I make a half pot bet. Mr. Chow calls. River is the 7s. Mr. Chow pushes for about half the pot. I hate it, but I make the call. Sure enough, I was rivered by … Ks6s. Ouch. I still have a nice stack, though, and I build it back up some when I run into Barbie. I end up stacking off to him with AK for TPTK when he flops bottom pair with J6o … and turns the J. Fun times. Rebuy!

I get some money back when I take a nice pot off of Uber-Nit by cracking his QQ with 9c8s—running clubs got there, of course. But, I then get KK OTB and have to give up on the turn when the board is four hearts and has the Ah to boot. In one of my favorite moments, I stack an uber-whiner when I call his flop all-in with QTs—I had a gutterball, backdoor flush draw, and it felt like my Q and T were both live overs. Sure enough, he has 99. The turn is the gin card—9h—making his set and my straight. Ahhh, much better!

At some point, I end up with one of the weirdest monster hands ever. I find KK again, raise to $12, get one caller. Flop is KQQ—not too bad, I guess. I slowplay it, and we go check-check. Turn is the case K—Donkey Kong! We go check-check again. River is … another Q! Now I’m hoping my opponent has AQ, since that would qualify us for the badbeat jackpot. I bet $20 and he instamucks. I end up winning a whopping $12 post-rake. Talk about bad beats …

In the meantime, Barbie is putting most of the table on tilt, showing down outrageous bluff after ridiculous play. He had people laying down two pair to his J-high or bottom pair over and over. At one point, Barbie four barrels at a final board that is Q-high with four clubs and a deuce. The river bet is $40ish, and the other guy (Mr. Chow) tanks. After a bit, Mr. Chow says, "I think we have the same hand," and shows AK with no club. Mr. Chow agonizes some more, and finally calls. Barbie says, "Good hand. Nice call." and rolls over J2o with no club. Barbie starts chattering about how he had to fire at the river, and what a good call Mr. Chow made, goes on and on. Barbie didn't realize he had won until the pot was hitting his stack! Hilarity definitely ensued. I think Barbie needs one of those pocket cheat cheet cards with poker hand rankings for IMOP.

Not long after, a guy next to Barbie bets $200 on the river into Mr. Chow’s cousin, for a monsterpotten of over $700. Mr. Chow’s cousin agonizes for over four minutes, muttering the entire time. Suddenly he stands up and points at Barbie and says, “Why couldn’t it be YOU?!? I call you!” He eventually folds two pair, and goes on mega-tilt when he’s shown a bluff with a busted flush draw. Whatever poker disease Barbie has, it’s clearly contagious.

Only six more weeks until Barbie and I hit Vegas for IMOP. I can’t wait to see if this is the year Barbie is finally assaulted by a crazed Euro-donk. One can only dream.

------------------------------------------------
* This session again proved that it is a major leak to play poker while your favorite football team is on TV in a big game. At least three Vikings fans busted out, and another sat next to me and screamed at the TV repeatedly, until his Viking-tilt led him to donk off upwards of $800.

Donkey Hunting with Jugweed

Good bud Jugweed (@Jugweed on Twitter) got a spouse pass for poker, so after he watched the Kansas Jayfaux beat the ISU CyClowns, we rolled over to the Meadows ATM for a long session. I got right into a 1/2 NLHE game filled with several regular nits. Eh. Anyway, I posted in, there was a small raise, couple of callers, and I look down to find a Diamond Grump. I know, I know, sometimes I just run-good; it’s a blessing and a curse. Anyway, I flop a deuce, turn a four, and scoop a $115 pot from some d-bag who overplayed his AK after flopping TPTK. Hilarity ensued. “To do list … #3. Establish tight image.” Check.

I get myself a crAAKKer moment when I snap KK with a junky little unsuited AA. But then I gave back some chips after getting run over by two boats. In the first tragic encounter, I turn the nut flush when the 7h hits the board, but it also paired the board. I smelled a rat and checked the turn and called a value bet on the river, finding out that the turn, indeed, had filled up a regular playing the Hammer. A little later Jugweed had moved to my table, and I turn trip 5s with my 65s, but discover Jugweed had turned Tens full of 5s. Sneaky little bastard. I do get a measure of revenge when I play AcQc for a raise, and get several callers, including Jugweed. Flop is AJT with one club. Jugweed bets out $30 from the BB, folds to me, and I raise to $130, threatening Jugweed’s stack. He thinks a long time, but finally open-mucks JT! I assure him it was a solid fold, and from my perspective, it was a great laydown.

My inner SVB finally kicked in when I raise OTB with As8s. Five of us see a flop of Ad7s6h. Checks to me, I bet, get two callers. Turn is a beautiful 5s. There is a lead out bet and a raise, so I push and get two callers. River is Ks, and I take down a monsterpotten, causing a gal with fake red hair to start whining about how I sucked out on her. Apparently, she had aces up. Hmmm, ever consider betting your hand?

Red-hair gal rebuys, and an hour or so later, we get involved in another big hand. I was in the CO with 7s5s, and called red-hair gal’s raise, along with half the table. I flopped a flush draw on a Q-high board, and three of us see the turn where I pair my 5. It seems pretty clear red-hair gal has paired the Q, but she checks it to the third player who goes all-in short. I call, and red-hair gal calls, with ~$100 still behind. River is a Js, giving me my flush. I think a moment, and figure red-hair gal might fold if I bet, but she may bet it herself if I let her. So I check, she moves in, and I call. Red-hair gal rolls over QJ, and erupts when she sees my flush. Hilarity ensued as red-hair gal whined about how I called her raise with “just” 75s, and how I was so lucky to always hit my draws. Hmmm, still not into betting your own hand?

Jugweed and I decide to hit up AJ’s Steakhouse to enjoy some of the donkey money. As I was racking up, I took a last hand, and cracked a guy’s Yaks with AQo. I cashed out for a nice palindromic profit of $797. After demolishing a couple of monster ribeyes, we returned to action. Jugweed took the only open 1/2 NLHE seat, and I took a seat at the 2/5 NLHE game. The 2/5 game had a lot of the usual degenerate suspects, but the game was playing rather passively as the big maniacs were absent. I took a decent pot down when I found AQs in MP, raise to $25, and get the usual four callers. An EP limper with a short stack pushed all-in for $125 total. I made the call, getting decent odds, and figuring his range was pretty wide as he had been on monkey tilt after losing a huge hand in the past orbit. Flop is AAQ. Donkey Kong! I say, “I’ll end the drama, that kind of hit me,” and roll my hand. Guy blurts out a couple of curse words, rolls his AK, and tilts off into the night.

Regrettably, my run-good didn’t last long. I lost a little when I had to abandon my AK after flopping TPTK. Then, I had 3s4s in the big blind, and call an extra $20 along with four other players. Flop is Ks5c2s for the monster draw. Guy leads out for $80, I make it $220, original raiser pushes for $1500, folds back to me, and I call my last $240. I go whiff-whiff and lose to a set of Ks. Eh.

The 2/5 game starts to play uber-nitty, so I moved over to Jugweed’s table. No big hands of note, but I did manage to pick up another $150 to partially offset my 2/5 loss. A little after midnight, Jugweed and I roll out, with a nice profit of ~$450 (post steak dinner) still in my pocket. Not a bad withdrawal from the Meadows ATM.

Play Your Chips Right

I’m a very logical, analytical guy. I have a strong background in science and math, and I majored in philosophy in college. I also tutored Introduction to Logic for years, and taught my Symbolic Logic class for two weeks in our professor’s absence (in exchange for not having to take the final exam—score!). I even aced the two logic sections on the LSAT.

I relate all of this information so you appreciate that I am not a superstitious person. Indeed, I am about as logical/rational as anyone this side of Spock. So please accept this post as a statement of fact, not a silly superstition like those held by many of the irrational masses.

Our local casino—Prairie Meadows Racetrack, Casino, & ATM—has three kinds of red $5 chips in play:

On the top you see the “generic” $5 chip. On the bottom left is the “rainbow” chip issued in commemoration of the addition of table games to the horse racing and slots several years ago. On the bottom right is the “Sure Shot Biscuit” chip issued to commemorate some random horse that may or may not have run a race at the Meadows ATM. These chips are referred to by regulars in the poker room as “Mafia chips” in homage to The Godfather. Now, the generic chips are easily the most prevalent, but the rainbow and Mafia chips are common enough that a typical stack of 20 red chips received from the cashier will usually include two or three each of those “special” chips.

So, you might ask, why should you care? Trust me—there is a correlation between proper use of these three kinds of chips and success at the poker tables. The rainbow chips are incredibly ugly, and their ugliness contributes to ugly play and ugly results. Thus, those chips should be sorted out and should be put in play first, ahead of all other chips. The rainbow chips are essentially the proletariat of red chips.

By contrast, the Mafia chips are extremely strong, containing the threat of serious harm to an opponent; the aristocracy of the red chips. Clearly, the more Mafia chips you hold, the more menacing you are to the table. Thus, your success is dependent on acquiring as many Mafia chips as possible, and then only putting them into play when absolutely necessary—generally only on an all-in. I always sort out my Mafia chips on my initial buy-in, and on every pot I win. Those Mafia chips are kept in a separate stack in the back of my overall stack, protected from exposure to the pot until their power is needed in a huge pot.

Often, if I'm running cold, I will reexamine my chip stacks, and I almost always find a rainbow chip that has snuck it's way into a stack, there to fester like an ugly infection.  Cleansing the rainbow chip from the stack almost always improves the health of my overall chip stack.

Scoff if you want, but if you sit down at my table at the Meadows ATM, you better have some serious "horsepower" if you find yourself all-in against me.

NOTE: I’m not the only person to observe the correlation between chips in your stack and success at the poker table. Now the Poker Grump obviously has a lot of irrational tics on display in his chip stacking rituals, but he intuitively recognizes that some part of his chip sorting/stacking routine is profitable. It will probably take months of therapy to convince him to give up his silly 10-chip stack size superstition.