The Price Is Wrong at the Meadows

Yesterday I played a late afternoon holiday poker session at the Meadows ATM. Games were rather sparse when I arrived mid-afternoon, with a couple of tables from the noon tourney still running, along with two tables of $1/$2 NLHE. As additional tourney players busted, some rotated into cash games, allowing some of the regulars to launch a $1/$2 Pot Limit HOE cash game. [FN1]  Despite the siren song of the Gamboool game, I stayed at the NLHE game because there were a few fishy tourist types, and I was waiting for the arrival of a vacationing blogosphere-Twitterverse friend, Jason, a degen geneticist from New Jersey (say that three times fast). I managed a $300 profit before we got five-handed with small stacks in play, so I gave in to temptation and moved to the HOE game just as Jason arrived to also join the degeneracy.

The game played rather nitty, with lots of limped or one-raise pots getting six to nine players to the flop. Preflop 3-bets were as rare as WSOP players who get knocked out without a bad beat. Still, there were numerous hands in the Omaha and Omaha8 rounds with multi-way all-ins, often with marginal draws. I wish I could say I cleaned up in the game, but some #runbad and some #playbad left me down for the session. Still, it was entertaining, since most of the table were friendly and talkative. I spent the session sitting next to a nice young gal (and solid player) @chelmc23, who is a regular in many of the Omaha games at the Meadows. We have played together often, so we gossiped a bit. At one point after witnessing a weird runner-runner suckout in a big Omaha pot, this exchange occurred:

Me:  "Wow, that's brutal."

Chelmc23:  "I had a worse beat in the Friday Omaha game."

Me:  "The 6/12 high-low?" [Note: A group of older folks have had a long-running regular Omaha8 game every Friday morning at the Meadows, often getting two tables. They play it $6/$12 limit, with a half-kill to $10/$20 following scoop pots of $60 or more.]

Chelmc23:  "Yeah. But I don't want to bore you with a bad beat story."

Me:  "Why don't you save it for the Hold 'Em round?"

Chelmc23:  "Good idea."

So, new rule: Bad beat stories can be told to liven up the boring rounds of a mixed game. The rule should also apply to Triple Draw and Stud games—except for Razz, of course, where merely playing is a bad beat.

I did win one entertaining hand of note. In a Gamboool8 round, I had some trashy hand in the big blind, something like K-J-9-7. It limped around, so I got to see a flop of 9-9-9. Donkey Kong! I checked the flop, got a loose player to bet it, a nitty lady to call, then I raised to $30, and they both called. Turn was ... oh who cares. I led out for $40, loose guy thought then folded, but the lady called. River was another card of no consequence. I bet $50, the lady sighed, pushed out the call, and said "Show me your 9". Instead, I rolled over my hand to claim the nice pot.

Anyway, the point of this post was to discuss the problems dealers can encounter when tracking pot size for betting purposes. The concept of pot limit betting can be tough for poker players used to the rigid structure of limit games and the anything-goes approach to no-limit games. Instead of simply pulling in bets each round, dealers have to track the pot size as players routinely simply bet by saying "Pot!" and then looking to the dealer to state the bet size for them. Now, as long as the dealer knows the pot size, and players bet, call, and raise in pot-sized increments, keeping track of the pot is simple arithmetic. For example, on one flop, a player bet pot. The dealer stated "$63". One player called, then the next player raised pot. The dealer froze for a moment, then started saying, "$280 ... $280 ..." which was clearly too high. I was in the 10 Seat, and quietly told the dealer, "It's $252 plus his $63 call, so ... $315 total", which another player also echoed. This case was easy because the raiser first had to call the $63 bet, then match the total in the pot for a raise of $252 ($63 x 4—preflop pot amount, pot bet, call, and call by reraiser). A more effective technique for thinking about this kind of pure pot betting and pot raising is to take four times the original pot bet size, then add another pot bet for each caller between original bettor and the pot reraiser to arrive at the total bet size for the pot reraiser (here, 4 x $63, plus 1 x $63, or 5 x $63 = $315; had there been a second caller, then simply make it 4 x $63, plus 2 x $63, or 6 x $63 = $378). Since the original bet amount was under $70, I knew the raise couldn't possibly be another $280 or more like the dealer thought. [FN2]

Later in the session, another weird pot-counting situation came up when a young lady dealer I had never seen before rotated into our game. There was a preflop raise to $10 with seven callers. I was out of the hand and not paying that close of attention. The dealer put out the flop, and the lady in Seat 1 put out a $15 bet that I couldn't see. Loose guy in Seat 5 raised pot, and the dealer said, "$115". Guy in Seat 8 then raised pot. Dealer said, "$300 more." Thinking that the $115 bet by Seat 5 was the first action on the round, I said to the dealer, "Shouldn't it be $345 more?" Dealer pointed to the Seat 1 bet of $15, and said, "It's $300". Seat 1 folded as I said, "Well, it can't be $300." Seat 5 called, and the dealer put out the turn card, then turned to me and quite tersely said, "It was $70 preflop, her $15, then his $115, so it's $300 more." I hadn't worked out the math by that moment, but I knew that $300 couldn't possibly be the correct raise amount (for one thing, with three players making bets ending in $5 before the pot raise, math says the raise amount had to end in a five, not a zero). But, I wasn't in the hand, the two remaining players had no trouble shipping the remaining $350 or so in Seat 8's stack (Seat 5 had him well-covered), so I simply shut the heck up. But I did take out my iPhone to write a note with the correct math to use as the basis for this post:

Let's start on the flop. A bet of $15, then a pot raise to $115 total means that the $15 bet plus a $15 call totals $30 on top of the pot. Since the raise was $100 more (for a total bet of $115), the preflop pot had to have been $70: $100-$15-$15=$70. The $70 original pot size checks with preflop action of seven players calling $10 each. So far so good.

Now, the next pot raiser must first call the $115 pending bet before his pot raise is calculated. So, $115 (pending bet by Seat 5) + $115 (call by Seat 8) + $15 (Seat 1 bet) + $70 (preflop bet) = $315 total pot which is theadditional raise amount for Seat 8.

So, the dealer was wrong as I knew, but I was also wrong as she knew. Math failure all around (though my error was based on not seeing the original $15 bet). Using The Price Is Right rules—closest to the correct amount without going over—I would normally give the dealer the win here. But, the dealer is being paid to keep track of the correct pot size. Being off $15 might not seem like a big deal, but in a multi-way pot where small amounts get magnified quickly, it can mean the difference between a player being able to call or reraise, or determine whether a player is able to get his stack in the middle on the turn. At a minimum, if a player questions the pot size in a pot limit game, a dealer should take a moment to confirm his or her math.

"The price is wrong, B#tch!"

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[FN1] For my less experienced readers, HOE is a mixed game with alternating rounds of Hold 'Em, Omaha (high only), and Omaha Eight or Better (high/low split pot game with the low hand must be 8-high or lower to qualify).

[FN2] As I noted in a prior post on PLG in Vegas, some casinos elect to track the pot in $5 increments, with odd dollars rounded up to the next $5. Using only $5 increments, particularly postflop, makes the pot-tracking and pot-raising calculations much easier for dealers and players alike. There is some variation in how the $5 increment policy is implemented:

The Venetian PLG game has $1/$2 blinds, which are counted as $5 for pot-calculation purposes, with a $5 bring-in (if you call preflop, it's $5; first raise without a limp is to $15). The Aria PLG game has $1/$3 blinds, which are counted as $3 for preflop action, with post-flop action in $5 increments (first raise without a limp is to $12).

Dutch Letters & Brutal Honesty

"There's only two things I hate in this world. People who are intolerant of other people's cultures, and the Dutch."

~Nigel Powers (Michael Caine), in Austin Powers: Goldmember

So as my Twitter followers may be aware, I recently caved to my sig other's requests for new furniture for our living room, even though we already have perfectly good furniture. Apparently the fact I picked out the furniture before we met coupled with the opinion that my taste in furniture "sucks" and runs toward "ugly, old grandma stuff" means we need new furniture. Well, it's cheaper than a new house (another recurring theme also commonly worked into casual conversation).

In any event, today we drove an hour to the historic and picturesque town of Pella, Iowa, famous for its Dutch heritage. Pella has a beautifully preserved downtown area with gorgeous old brick buildings, windmills, a canal, and an historic opera house. Each May a tulip festival is held, drawing hordes of tourists. The locals are so into the Dutch theme that even modern fast food restaurants and convenience stores must be built in faux-Dutch manner, heavy on the brick and steep-sloped roofs. My favorite Pella attraction is the old country Jaarsma Bakery on the town square, with its wide array of pastries, most notably strudel and Dutch letters.

After looking at three living room sets the sig other had scouted a week or two ago—including a set identical to a set we had looked at here in the Des Moines area but at $500 more—the sig other headed on the road with Berkeley to his hometown for Mother's Day with his family, and I headed back to Des Moines after popping into Jaarsma Bakery for a coffee cake and a dozen Dutch Letters. The road home took me right past the Meadows ATM, and my car guided me into a prime parking spot late in the afternoon. So something productive was salvaged for the day.

The Meadows poker room was strangely dead with one $3/$6 LHE game and one $1/$2 NLHE game running. After waiting 15 minutes or so, a new $1/$2 NLHE game was opened, but it was hard to tell the difference as my cards were colder than an iceberg. Eventually I hit a couple of hands and cashed out with a $200 profit—or as I prefer to view it, 10% of a leather sofa.

One amusing moment occurred late in the session. A young college kid joined the game, and was clearly new to live casino poker. His first hand he posted in, then accidentally pulled back his post, resulting in the dealer mucking his hand preflop—he of course claimed he had a pocket pair and would have flopped a set. Then when his blinds hit, he would put out his blinds, then fiddle with them and accidentally put the chips back in his stack before the action got to him, resulting in an embarrassing lecture from the dealer and some teasing from the table. His play was pretty ABC weak-tight, and he was a tell-spewing fish most hands.

Late in my session, an older regular known for his blunt talk joined the game. Young Fish was visibly uncomfortable at our table. Eventually a seat opened up at the other $1/$2 NLHE table, and Old Regular was first up for a table change; he declined. Young Fish then asked if he could change tables, leading Old Regular to spout, "You can't move! You're the reason I'm staying at this table!" Everyone laughed, but it was clear Old Regular was being completely honest. Young Fish began racking up to leave, and Old Regular says, "Can I at least have your phone number? We have a home game you should play in."

For some reason, he never got that number.

Windmill near Pella town square.

Gin Night at the Meadows

Gin card: In poker, a card that gives two players strong but different hands. Usually, one player will make the strongest possible hand (often referred to as the "nuts"), while the other player will make a very strong but losing hand (e.g., a card gives one player a flush and another player a straight or smaller flush, or one player makes quads while another player makes a full house).* Alternatively, getting the specific card(s) one needs to make one's hand (e.g., hitting a set or an inside straight draw).

Last week, I made my Ali-like return to the Meadows ATM, where I hadn't played in several months. But, my buddy Santa Claus was in town for work, so we met up for Jethro's BBQ and some poker. After stuffing myself with smoked brisket, pulled pork, and andouille sausage, it was off to the Meadows poker room.

The crowd was typical for a Wednesday night, with eight or nine tables in action for the mid-week tournament. Santa and I had to wait only a few minutes before getting into a new $1/$2 NLHE cash game with several tournament bustouts. Seat selection is a key skill for poker success, so I made the important strategic decision to sit in the 3 seat. Santa, however, unwisely chose the 2 seat.

The game started rather tight, typical for a mid-week game. After a couple of orbits, I found As5s in the big blind. Shockingly, a bunch of us all limped. The flop was junky with a couple of hearts and one spade. A bad player two to my left bet $10, and I called along with the hijack, thinking my Ace might be live and figuring I could represent the flush if a heart hit. The turn was a big spade, giving me the backdoor flush draw. I checked, bad player bet $25, hijack called, and I called. River was a baby spade. Gin! I bet out $50, bad player called, and hijack folded. I rolled over the nuts and hilarity ensued. My opponent stared at the board and my hand, then commenced angry, non-stop muttering until he busted out a few hands later. As Dusty Schmidt says, "Just like in the porn industry, you need to backdoor it if you really want to get paid."

An orbit later, I was back in the blinds. A couple of aggressive guys who had busted out of the tournament had joined the game. Most of the table limped preflop, and I closed the action checking my option with JTo. The flop came down 9-8-3 rainbow. I checked, aggro guy in middle position bet $10, aggro in hijack called, and I called. Turn came a Queen. Gin! Believing in the theory that the best way to get money in the pot is to put money in the pot, I led out with a $25 bet. I was hoping to get one caller. Instead, first aggro guy raised to $50, then the next aggro guy pushed all-in for roughly $150. With the action back on me, I paused a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. The turn had put a backdoor flush draw on board, but I had one of that suit, so I couldn't be up against a freerolling straight with a flush redraw. I decided the worst case for me was to be dodging a flush draw and a set, and there's no way I could fold the current nuts even though those draws were live. The other guy had roughly $200 left behind, and I decided if he could call the current raise, he could call my push. So, I pushed, and he snap-called. I rolled my hand, and both opponents rolled over ... Q-9 for top two pair. Ruh roh Rooby! That's about as good as I could hope for. Variance was kind, and the river rolled off a blank. I scooped a nice pot, and a few hands later, racked up and cashed out with a tidy profit.

Santa, meanwhile, stuck to his silly Seat 2 strategy. I headed home to celebrate Gin Night:

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* I've used the term "gin card" for years, as have several of my poker buddies. Interestingly, I was unable to find a definitive origin for the phrase, but did find several references going back to 2006 using the term, including United Poker Forum (May 2007), Full Contact Poker (August 2007), Two Plus Two (September 2009) (though the forum archives reference the term much earlier in strategy posts dating back at least to 2006), Poker News (November 2009), and the Durrrr Challenge website (December 2010).

The earliest reference I could find was in the Two Plus Two archives where there is discussion in 2005 about a blog post by Daniel Negreanu where he reports hitting his "gin card" and losing:

From his blog he says, "The flop came A-A-10 and I was pretty sure that my opponent had A-K, K-K, Q-Q, or maybe even AA or JJ. He checked and I checked. The turn was my gin card, an 8. Or not... the dude had four aces! Goodbye."

In any event, although the exact moment where "gin card" crossed over into the poker lexicon is probably lost to the mists of time, I think it's safe to say the phrase probably came into vogue sometime around the Moneymaker boom.

Economics of a Small Poker Room

This spring, Iowa poker players have been abuzz about the larger than usual bad beat jackpots at the Prairie Meadows Racetrack, Casino, and Den of Iniquity. In mid-May, the main jackpot went off at a little north of $215,000. The reserve jackpot of roughly $95,000 was then rolled out, and has since grown to nearly $110,000. With shares of 50% to the losing hand, 25% to the winning hand, and the remaining 25% divided equally among the other players at the table, the bad beat jackpot is certainly a nice pay day for catching the wrong end of a cosmically rare lucky cooler hand.

After a little reflection on the bad beat jackpot (BBJ), it occurred to me that the nature of the BBJ structure and the timing of the recent jackpot win permit some intriguing insights into the economics in play at the Prairie Meadows poker room. In particular, the BBJ information provides a method for making a meaningful estimate of the number of raked cash game hands dealt, total cash game rake taken by the house, average rake per hand, and even dealer and cocktail server tips.

Looking first at the structure of the BBJ, the sizes of the the main and reserve BBJs in May suggested that the jackpot drop was distributed to the two BBJ funds in a 2:1 or 3:2 ratio. A poker room manager confirmed to me that the jackpot drop was distributed with 60% going to the primary BBJ and 40% to the backup BBJ. Even more important is that the room's other uses of jackpot promotion funds—$200 flat payments to straight flushes—are not funded with a dedicated reserve, but instead bonuses for straight flushes are deducted first from each day's jackpot drop, with the remaining funds then credited to the two BBJs. [FN1] Thus, unlike many poker rooms which use their jackpot drop to fund a variety of promotions, it is fairly easy to determine the actual total jackpot drop taken at Prairie Meadows.

To calculate the jackpot drop taken at Prairie Meadows, we first take the amount of the reserve BBJ, which we know was wholly funded since the last BBJ was won. Dividing the reserve BBJ ($95,000) by 40% gives the amount contributed to the main BBJ ($142,500 of the $215,000), for total BBJ funding of $237,500 since the last BBJ was won. Next, we need to add an estimated payout for straight flush bonuses from the jackpot drop. Talking with the poker room manager, roughly two to four straight flush bonuses are paid out each day. Assuming an average of 20 straight flush bonuses per week adds roughly $208,000 per year to the jackpot drop taken (20 x $200 x 52 weeks).

Next we need a way to convert the BBJ funds to an annual basis. This is where the timing of the recent BBJ win comes into play. The recent jackpot was won roughly six months after the last win in late December. So, to get an estimated annual jackpot drop, we can simply double the jackpot drop since the last BBJ win ($237,500 x 2 = $475,000) and add the annual straight flush payments ($208,000) for a total annual jackpot drop of $683,000. [FN2]

Now the interesting point to keep in mind is that the amount dropped for the jackpot fund  is correlated to the amount dropped by the house in rake.  The dollar dropped each hand for the jackpot fund is taken at the same time as the first dollar of rake (at $10 in the pot). So, if a hand is not raked, no jackpot dollar is dropped. Thus, the amount dropped for the jackpot fund is the minimum amount taken by the house for rake (the "base rake"). To estimate the total amount taken in rake, one must simply estimate the percentage of raked hands that also reach the second, third, and fourth dollars of rake (taken at the $20, $30, and $40 marks).   This depends to a great degree on the game mixture in each room. A room spreading $2/$4 LHE will take less rake than a room with $3/$6 or $4/$8 as the smallest LHE game. Similarly, a room with $1/$2 NLHE will hit those rake marks less frequently than a room with $1/$3 or $2/$5 NLHE as its smallest game (though some rooms offer more graduated rake structures for their bigger games). Rooms that allow or require kills, half-kills, and/or straddles will also take more in rake.

Turning back to Prairie Meadows, the estimated annual jackpot drop of $683,000 translates into a base rake for the house of $683,00. Taking into account that the jackpot drop calculation might be subject to some variation based on season, economic conditions, the effect of promotions, and the live horse-racing season, the jackpot drop and base rake might vary up to 20%, giving us a range of jackpot drop and base rake of roughly $550,000 to $825,000, though the actual number is most likely much closer to the original estimate, probably around $650,000. Converting the base rake to an estimated total rake merely requires estimating the frequency of each raked hand also being raked at the second, third, and fourth dollar levels. A room with mostly small stakes limit games and "social" style no-limit games will generate a less aggressive rake profile than a room with predominately action-oriented no-limit games. The following table for a room with base rake similar to Prairie Meadows illustrates the range of total rake that might be taken depending on the nature of the room's game mix and action level [FN3]:

Table 1—The "additional rake distribution" columns reflect the

percentage of raked hands which reach each additional dollar of rake 

($1 in rake taken at $20 / $30 / $40 in the pot). Figures are on

an estimated annual basis. (Click on table for larger view.)

The left hand column for total rake is probably a closer fit for a poker room with mostly $2/$4 LHE and some $1/$2 NLHE, while the right column for total rake is a better fit for a room with mostly action-oriented $1/$2 or $2/$5 NLHE and some $3/$6 or higher LHE. Prairie Meadows generally spreads mostly $1/$2 NLHE and $3/$6 LHE (with a full kill), along with fairly regular $2/$5 NLHE and a weekly $6/$12 Omaha8 game. Using a base rake of ~$650,000 per year, and the more aggressive rake assumptions, the estimated total annual rake for Prairie Meadows is roughly $2.25 million.

Looking at the Iowa Racing and Gaming Commission official financial reports, Prairie Meadows reported total poker rake of $2.3 million in 2010. Assuming $75,000-$100,000 of the reported rake is from poker tournament entry fees [FN4], the estimate of $2.25 million in cash game rake, as well as the underlying assumptions regarding the size of the annual jackpot drop and the aggressive rake structure are validated as being reasonably accurate.

As an interesting side note, the Caesars Entertainment family of casinos has imposed a $5 maximum rake at most of their poker rooms (and a $5.50 maximum rake at their Horseshoe Casino in Council Bluffs, Iowa). The amount generated by this extra rake can be estimated by adding the amounts in the following table to the rake calculated previously for a $4 maximum rake (the table below shows the percentage of hands that reach the maximum rake threshold of $50):

Table 2—Effect of a $5 maximum rake, related to percentage

of raked hands that reach the maximum rake ($50+ in pot). Figures

are on an estimated annual basis. (Click on table for larger view.)

Based on the table above, if Prairie Meadows increased its maximum rake to $5, it could generate an additional $250,000 to $300,000 in annual revenue. Although there would be some resistance from players to any rake increase, Prairie Meadows really has little direct competition due to geographical constraints. The closest competitive poker rooms in terms of size and action are in Council Bluffs (across the river from Omaha) and Kansas City, each two or more hours drive from the Des Moines area (not to mention these rooms already have at least a $5 maximum rake). Some players might go to rooms at Meskwaki or Riverside (near Iowa City), but these rooms generally have less action and less satisfactory room set-ups in addition to being an extra one to two hour drive for most players. In any event, it's easy to see why Caesars increased its maximum rake.

Now, why bother deriving the jackpot and rake drops indirectly if the rake drop can be determined simply by looking at financial reports? First, as noted previously, we can verify the general validity of our assumptions about the rake structure, which will help derive financial data for all Iowa casinos (the subject of an upcoming post). Second, knowing the jackpot drop can help us draw some other interesting conclusions about the economics of the poker room, specifically the amounts spent by poker players on tips to dealers and cocktail servers.

Our analysis of dealer tips begins with the observation that the jackpot drop is essentially a proxy for the number of hands that are raked. Each dollar in the jackpot drop represents one hand that was large enough to generate rake (i.e, had at least $10 in the pot). Generally speaking, if a pot is large enough to be raked, a dealer is usually tipped at least $1. Some players will tip on smaller pots, while some players are stingier with tips. In a room like Prairie Meadows with a high number of regular players and mostly long-term dealers, tips tend to run above the $1 per hand benchmark, with a fair number of players tipping more than $1 on larger pots. A matrix of raked hands dealt ("tipped hands") and average tip size gives us a reasonable range of total dealer tips per year:

Table 3—Range of total amounts paid for dealer tips. Figures are

on an estimated annual basis. (Click on table for larger view.)

Using a range of 550,000 to 650,000 tipped hands per year, and assuming $1.25 to $1.50 per tip, a reasonable estimate of total dealer tips would be roughly $800,000 per year. Assuming 20-25 dealers on the regular rotation, this works out to $32,000-$40,000 per dealer per year, which seems a reasonable income (some regular dealers with more seniority, prime shifts, and better people skills likely pull down well above this amount, while the part-time dealers earn substantially less).

Turning to cocktail server tips, the connection between raked pots and server tips is not as closely correlated as was the case with dealer tips. However, servers generally come by each table two to three times each hour, and typically bring three to five drinks each trip. Most players tip $1 per drink, so a server should earn $6-$15 per table per hour. So, if we assume that the typical table gets in approximately 25 raked hands  (30 total hands) per hour, then we can estimate the reasonable range of cocktail server tips:

Table 4—Range of total amounts paid for cocktail server tips. Figures

are on an estimated annual basis. (Click on table for larger view.)

Using the range of 600,000 to 650,000 raked hands, and assuming $10-$15 per table per hour (Prairie Meadows players and servers being regulars, tips run on the generous side), an estimate of $300,000 in server tips per year seems reasonable.

Taking each of these economic factors into account, the total financial costs of poker at Prairie Meadows can be calculated:

Rake:                 $2,300,000

Jackpot Drop:      $650,000

Dealer Tips:         $800,000

Server Tips:         $300,000 

Total:               $4,050,000

This figure is only an estimate, but the rake figure is definite (based on financial records), and the jackpot drop is likely not overestimated by more than $50,000 or so. Even if the dealer and server tips are overestimated by as much as 25% ($275,000 too high), the most conservative estimate for the total costs of poker at Prairie Meadows is still $3.7 million. Of course, the dealer and server tips may be underestimated as well. 

Prairie Meadows is just one of 16 casinos in Iowa that offer poker, albeit being the second-largest room in terms of both casino and poker revenues (after the Horseshoe). Prairie Meadows is a typical small-to-mid-sized (11 table) poker room with a mostly local / regional player base. Non-local players find their way to the poker room because Des Moines is the state capital and state's largest city, which helps attract a certain number of business and convention travelers. Also, Drake University is located in Des Moines while Iowa State University is in Ames, an easy 30 minute drive north of the casino. Des Moines is located in the center of the state, at the intersection of I-80 and I-35, generating additional players from long-distance travelers, primarily truck drivers (it certainly doesn't hurt that the casino is located right off an I-80 exit near the east I-80/I-35 mixmaster, an exit shared with the Adventureland amusement park). Certainly, the room certainly has a different player base and business model than similarly sized rooms in Las Vegas.

In any event, it is indisputable that poker players pay roughly $4 million per year in actual costs for the privilege and convenience of playing poker at Prairie Meadows, money which is completely removed from the poker community. Obviously a certain percentage of the Prairie Meadows players are winners. So, the Prairie Meadows poker community as a whole has to generate non-poker income sufficient to cover the $4 million in overhead costs, as well as pay the winning players their profits. This money can only come from one source—players' outside income, whether from wages, business or investment revenue, savings, government assistance, or other sources. With Iowa having a population of only 3.04 million, median household income of $48,000, and median individual income of $31,400 (women) to $42,600 (men), generating $4 million to cover the poker overhead at Prairie Meadows is no mean feat. It certainly gives one pause to reflect on the long-term sustainability of poker, at least in the live casino setting on the current scale.

Stay tuned! Later this week crAAKKer takes a broader look at the economics of the live poker scene in the state of Iowa as a whole.

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[FN1]  In the rare instance that the straight flush payouts exceed the daily jackpot drop, the amount needed to cover the excess straight flush payouts is deducted from the reserve BBJ fund. The poker room manager indicated this situation has occurred "at most three or four times".

[FN2]  This annual estimate might be a little on the high side given that the Prairie Meadows poker room generally sees somewhat higher action during winter months (monthly poker room rake ranges from $165,000 to $220,000 according to Iowa Racing and Gaming Commission reports). Also, the BBJ mania likely generated somewhat higher than normal numbers of players, though much of this extra business probably generated lower than normal rake rates as many of the extra players sat in $3/$6 LHE games and folded hands with little or no BBJ potential, while checking down or light-betting hands with BBJ potential.

[FN3]  The spreadsheet from which all the tables were derived can be viewed on Google Docs.

[FN4]  Prairie Meadows has three weekly tournaments with buy-ins of $60 or less, each of which has 30-100 entries. Assuming 150-200 entries per week at $10 each, the poker room will earn a total of ~$75,000-$100,000 per year from poker tournaments. Although many poker rooms offer more tournaments with higher entry fees, clearly poker rooms rely on cash games to generate the bulk of their revenues.

A Big Hand for a Big Guy

"I'm not in the thinking business."

—Sam Rhine (James Berwick) in "A Big Hand for the Little Lady"

Sometimes, poker can be a grind. Premium starting hands few and far between, bad flops galore, and scads of missed draws. On those days, it can take every ounce of skill just to eke out a small win. In fact, the ubiquitous use of "grind" (and its cousins, "grinding" and "grinder") in the poker vernacular reflects the perceived need to manufacture profits out of small edges, thin value bets, and situational steals. In many ways, the modern aggressive grinding strategy is simply the logical fruition of Doyle Brunson's Super/System strategy of contesting even small pots on the theory that winning many small pots gave him an edge when big pots were contested.

Although grinding might be the most profitable—or at least most consistent—strategy at higher stakes games, I've found that low stakes no limit hold 'em games are profitable because of the big pots. In a typical $1/$2, $1/$3, or even $2/$5 game, the blinds are so insignificant that jousting over a limped pot offers poor risk-reward odds. Instead, the real money to be made is in the big hands that develop over the course of a session. Win a majority of the big hands—sets versus two pair, boats versus flushes, trips versus overpair, etc.—and you will usually walk away a big winner. Lose a majority of those big hands, and you'll likely wind up a loser regardless of how many small pots you drag.

Recently, I played a session at Riverside. I got up early by flopping a set of Queens, but busted and rebought when my Kings were cracked three times in two orbits. One cracking occurred when my button preflop 3-bet to $57 was called by QQ and QJs; naturally the case Queen flopped, and I paid off the extra $150 after both players pushed in front of me. I rallied and made a buy-in profit when my Queens twice held up after preflop all-ins, and after flopping trips against a player married to his Aces. Although I did steal one nice pot with a preflop squeeze play, the remainder of my session was mostly spent either folding or limping into pots against specific players, looking for opportunities to generate a big pot in an advantageous spot.

Last weekend, I played an afternoon session at Prairie Meadows Racetrack, Casino, & ATM. Typical for an afternoon game, the table was filled with nits and rocks, most nursing stacks under $200. There were a couple of deeper stacks, so I bought in for the maximum of $300. Also typical for this kind of game, players limping in almost invariably called any preflop raise, even a raise to $17-$22.

I settled in for a grinding session, praying an action player or two would show up early for the generally looser, wilder evening games. There was no need to wait. Barely five hands into my session, I was dealt JdTh in MP. I limped in after another limper. The player to my left raised to $12, and was called by two LP players, the BB, and the limper before me. So, I called and closed the action.

The flop came down: KdQd9s. Yahtzee! I barely had time to contemplate the best way to play my monster hand when all hell broke loose! The BB pushed for roughly $100 and the player after him pushed for roughly $150. I thought a bit, then made the only real play, pushing all-in myself for nearly $300. Imagine my surprise when the preflop raiser also pushed for over $300, and an LP player also pushed for almost $200. Holy action flop, Batman! 

I fully expected to see a range of hands like KQ, 99, AdXd, and maybe even another JT. I definitely didn't want to see AdTd, the one monster draw that could counterfeit my straight. Instead, I saw: BB with Ad3d, MP with K9o, preflop raiser with KTo, and LP with Td9d. Although I was fading the world—any King, Nine, or diamond beat me, along some runner-runner combos, while a Jack would chop—my opponents were drawing somewhat thinner than usual as they held some of each other's outs (and I also had the Jd). After the dealer, Chase, sorted out the man pot and four side pots (and skillfully so, I might add), he put out the turn and river—3h and 7s. Blank, blank. And just like that, Chase was pushing me a monsterpotten that took a few hands to stack:

One hand, one monster pot. Including $10 tips to the dealer and 

cocktail server, total pot was $1,252, with a net of roughly $950.

Although I played another five hours, that one hand was essentially my profit for the session. I did have several other big hands, including flopping four sets (once cracking both Aces and Kings with a set of 7s), but those pots were offset by my Kings and Queens being cracked twice each, and losing a trips versus trips battle when my opponent paired his kicker on the river. Still, walking out with a three buy-in profit was a rather satisfying conclusion to what had initially looked like a grinding session with little chance for a big score.

So why is small stakes no limit hold 'em such a big pot game while bigger stakes versions seem to be more conducive to grinding? I think the main reason is that small stakes players are more prone to making the true big money errors—calling preflop raises with dominated hands, playing raised pots out of position, being unable to lay down overpairs and top pair hands, and chasing non-nut draws. Big errors, big pots. Small stakes players are simply much more likely to stack off light than are players at bigger stakes games.

Gawd bless 'em!

Odd Origami at the Meadows ATM

Saturday evening I made my first sojourn to the Meadows ATM since returning from IMOP-VI in Vegas. I've been on an extended "rungood" streak this year, and I was hoping that my statistical variance box abilities would translate into winning the record $147,000+ bad beat jackpot (Aces full of Yaks or better beaten by quads or better qualifies). Although my dreams of a quick hit fortune were ultimately dashed, I did get to witness a couple of truly curious hands.

A couple of hours into my session, College Kid to my left limped UTG. A loose EP player raised to $17, a bit high for the table, but not particularly extraordinary, either. Predictably, there were four callers back to College Kid. He thought, then mucked. The flop came out A-5-5 with two spades. There was a bet, two all-ins, and a call by original bettor for a monster three-way pot of over $700. Turns out it was AQ vs. AK vs. a flush draw, and the AK held for a monsterpotten. College Kid was visibly upset, and I immediately knew what he had done. "Folded pocket 5s, eh?" College Kid nodded morosely. Now it takes roughly 7:1 odds to set mine, and College Kid was getting 4:1 express odds with plenty of implied odds (look at all the money that went in the pot with just top pair or a draw). Factor in the remote but not negligible shot at a monster bad beat jackpot, and the preflop fold of a pocket pair for a mere $15 seems a bit ... irrational.

An hour or so later, an even more curious case of poker origami occurred. A tight player to my right, UFC Dude, limp-3-bet preflop to $45, and got a mere four callers. Yup, the table was that awesome. Anyway, the flop came out coordinated like Derek Jeter: KdJd9d. UFC Dude bet out $50, rather weak given the preflop action, unless of course he had AdQd for the stone cold nuts. Next guy to act folds. Next guy pushes all-in for about $250. Next guy pushes all-in for about $250 (no, that is not an error or double post). Next guy pushes all-in for over $400. UFC Dude has about $200 behind. UFC Dude thinks about 10 seconds and mucks face up:

Pocket Kings.

Yes, UFC dude folded Cowboys, laying down top set. He laid down a monster*.



Alrighty then. Let's assume worst case scenarios. Kings are dead only to a straight flush (QdTd), but still have one out to ~$73K for the bad beat jackpot. Kings are ahead of a set or two pair, and are drawing very live against a flush and/or straight. Kings are getting roughly 4:1 odds with two cards to come. Even against a spread of flush, straight, and set, Kings are just over 25% to boat up for the win, meaning a call is +EV. Against the actual hands of QsTs (straight), AdXx (nut flush draw), and 7d6d (flopped flush), Kings improve to have over 32% equity, again plenty good to call. In other words, even if the other hands are turned face up, Kings have to call based on math alone. But even stranger, even if one opponent rolls over the dreaded QdTd, with two cards to come Kings have ~4% odds of hitting quads for the bad beat jackpot (assuming there is no sign the fourth King has been folded). This gives UFC Guy an additional equity in the pot of ~$2,920 (4% x the $73,000 losing hand share). In other words, UFC Guy can only correctly fold here if he knows both that he is up against a straight flush and that the fourth King is not in play.

Yes, even today, there are still idiots donating money to poker games. Praise be the poker gods!

Raise or raise not. There is no fold.

(Origami and photo by "antzpantz" on Flickr).

POSTSCRIPT (29 March 2011):  JT88Keys raises a good point in the comments. Although the ultimate outcome of the hand is irrelevant to analyzing the proper play, there is a certain narrative closure provided by knowing what happened.

Mouths gaped and players gasped. I think I actually said, "You're kidding me." The dealer peeled off the turn: Yak, pairing the board (and boating up anyone holding, say, a set). UFC Guy looked like someone kicked his puppy. Dealer peeled off the river: 9, double pairing the board, leaving Kings as the best full house possible. UFC Guy looked like he was throwing up in his mouth as the monsterpotten was pushed to a player holding—in a three way hand on a double-paired board—a non-nut flush.

Crazy game, eh?

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* I just noticed for the first time that Teddy KGB flopped the nut straight with the mighty Deuce-Four, a/k/a "Das Grump". Figures that Hollywood would shoot a scene with such an improbably strong hand. Friggin' dramatic license.

Meet the New Year, Same as the Old Year

Meet the new boss,
Same as the old boss.

—The Who, "Won't Get Fooled Again"

After a day of boring college football, I managed to sneak away for an evening poker session at the Meadows ATM.  For a holiday and Saturday night, the room was rather dead, with maybe four 1/2 NLHE games and two 3/6 LHE games.  But the action was decent, and the game was entertaining.  A few highlights and lowlights:

• Early on, I had a great read that two guys were weak, so a big river bluff with 9-high on a busted draw bought me a nice pot.  It's good to be back on that part of my game.
• I had Aces once (small win), Ks twice (medium loss, small win), and Queens once (big win).  I also had the Spanish Inquisition twice (two small losses) and the Deuce-Four twice (two small losses).  Clearly I am running bad so far this year.
• Speaking of running bad, I had 33 on the button, and called a preflop raise to $15, as did most of the table and the cocktail waiter.  I saw a trey in the door, which gave me that wonderful "flopped set" thrill, but I got downright tingly when the dealer showed two treys on the flop! Yahtzee!  Even better was getting a bet, raise, and small stack push for action, all before I made the very reluctant call.  Easy game.  Oh yeah, the run bad part of the hand. Unfortunately, my opponent did not have pocket Tens, which would have made quads on the river for a nice $60K+ bad beat jackpot.
• Still speaking of running bad, I managed to melt away my stack with three coolers:  Q5s for flopped trip 5s vs. K5s; 96s vs. J9o for flopped straight over straight; and QJs where I flopped top pair of Yaks, then turned trip Yaks, but my opponent turned the nut flush.
• I also threw in some play bad.  Notably, I tried to semi-bluff an ET, which sort of makes the play just a semi-draw.  Error.
• In the realm of the bizarre, a middle-aged guy at the table was eating his sandwich and fries, when all of sudden he spits out half a tooth which had broken off.  Seriously, a chunk of this guy's tooth was suddenly his new card capper.  Yuck.

There was a lot of fun chatter at the table, but the only exchange I really remember was on the hand where I had Queens.  The guy next to me walked a few steps away to take a phone call, when his buddy across the table raised me all-in on the flop.  I eventually made the call (the flop was low cards with possible straight and flush draws, and two pair or sets also possible).  The board went running threes, and my Queens were good (other guy did not show).  Phone Call Guy returns to the table to see me stacking chips and his buddy getting out money to rebuy:

Phone Call Guy:  "Wow!  What happened?"

Me:  "I had Queens."  [pause]  "He didn't."

Best wishes to all my readers for a happy, healthy, and positive-variance year!

Big Hands, Big Defeats

"Big hands, big feet.  You know what that means."

"Big gloves, big shoes."

In honor of my recent birthday, I took the afternoon off, and enjoyed a late lunch at Jethro's BBQ before heading to the Meadows ATM for some poker insanity.  The room was busy, but I got right into a 1/2 NLHE game, where I found a table filled with the usual suspects.  I wound up spending most of the evening next to "Pervert Mark", known for his love of telling dirty jokes, making risqué comments, being far too open about his love of strip clubs, oversharing about his sex life with his wife, and flirting with any woman within 20 feet of his table.  However, his schtick is harmless and rather amusing, though some of his quips are enough to make a sailor blush.  My favorite line this session was when he broke his chips into $20 stacks while pondering a raise, and stated, "If I think of these as chips, I play stupid.  But if I think of them as lap dances, I play smart." Not exactly Harrington On Hold 'Em, but solid advice nonetheless.

This evening turned out to be one of those sessions where my profit or loss would come from just a few key hands.  After a couple hours of sparring, I found myself in my first big pot.  A loose player raised preflop, and I called from the big blind with AdJd, as did a couple other players.  The flop was pretty meh, K-T-8 with one diamond (the ten).  I check-called the continuation bet, thinking I would reevaluate the hand after the turn, looking for a chance to steal on a show of weakness.  That plan went out the window as the turn brought the best card in the deck for me—the Qd—giving me the nut straight and the nut flush draw and gutshot royal flush draw as well.  Donkey Kong!  With the badbeat jackpot sitting at $112,000, I had visions of the river Kd giving me a royal flush against quad kings.  I check-raised for about half my remaining chips, and was called.  Regrettably, the river was a blank, but I pushed all-in and got the courtesy double-up from an overplayed AK.   And yes, hilarity ensued!

Later, I got into a big pot when I called a preflop raise in the blinds, along with five others, holding Ah9h.  The flop was a gorgeous 9-9-5.  Yahtzee!  I check-raised a c-bet, and got one caller.  The turn brought a disappointing 5, giving me the boat, but likely chopping the pot. I bet, was raised, and called, wanting to see the river before getting pot-committed for my stack—any Ten or Eight would give me pause about being counterfeited by a better boat. The river was a deuce, so I led out for $125, a little over half the pot. My opponent thought a bit, leading me to realize I had misread his turn action, and he likely held a smaller boat with a mere Five.  He finally made the crying call and indeed showed the Five. Good times!

I was contemplating whether to leave with my profit when three rather loose-playing friends sat down, and the action jumped a few notches to crazy.  These guys would ram and jam with next to nothing, then win with rivered two pairs or gutshots.  I decided to stay and see what happened.  One of them was eventually knocked out when on the turn, with the board showing 8-8-A-4, he bet $50, the tightest player at the table check-raised to $200, and the kid pushed all-in for another $100.  The tight player shrugged, called, and tabled ... wait for it ... an Eight.  Shocking.  River was a face card, and kid flashed ... wait for it ... pocket ducks.  Yup, he tried to bluff with a two-outer against a pot-committed, deep-stacked, uber-tight player showing strength who was basically telegraphing he held trip eights.  Again, not exactly Harrington on Cash Games.

After the kid left, another crazy regular, Brian, sat down.  Now Brian loves to gamboool, but is a good LAG player who is not afraid to make and call big bets.  On Brian's first hand, he posted in from middle position, and raised to $20.  I was in the big blind, and found pocket Queens.  I raised to $60 total, and got three callers, for a $240+ pot preflop!  Flop was T-6-4 rainbow; not bad for Queens.  I led out for $200 total.  First guy folded, but one of the maniacs pushed all-in for $201.  Brian then pushed all-in for $240.  I made the easy call.  Turn was a Deuce, and the river was a Jack ... giving Brian two pair with his JT offsuit.  Other kid flashed an Eight before mucking.  Fun times.

About an orbit later, I'm on the button when Brian raised yet again preflop, perhaps the 8th time in a row.  I made the call with Q8 of spades.  Error No. 1.  A couple of others call, and the flop came down Kh-Ts-9s, giving me a flush draw, gutshot straight draw, and straight flush draw.  It checked to Brian who led at the pot for $20, roughly half pot.  I raised to $60 total.  The small blind thought, then called.  Brian immediately pushed all-in.  Aiyiyi!!  My semi-bluffing ability just vanished in a poof of aggression.  I figured Brian had at least a King, but ... it was hard to tell, as he's capable of making a move with any two cards.  He has often shown down outrageous bluffs.  I started thinking about whether my monster draw was actually a favorite over his likely range, forgetting about the yahoo caller behind me.  Error No. 2.   Finally, I decided to make the call, figuring my monster draw gave me plenty of outs, plus there was a lot of dead money in the pot.  Error No. 3.  That's when the yahoo started thinking about calling, despite also having a monster stack. Say what?? I instantly knew yahoo had the nut flush draw, and I started wishing for him to fold. Regrettably, the folding fairy was busy over at the 3/6 LHE game for the first time since the badbeat jackpot went over $50,000.  Error No. 4.  Yahoo finally made the call with ... As6s. My monster draw immediately resembled Dracula with a garlic-laced stake through his heart. The turn and river rolled off as a red Nine and a red Four, and Brian rolled over KT offsuit to drag the monsterpotten.

Just goes to show I should heed my own mantra:

"There's always a better place to get it in bad."

In Which I Encounter a Kettle

I played a short session Friday night at the Meadows ATM.  Got into a newly opened table, and things started off just fine, getting up $250 in the first hour, mostly off a flopped top set of Yaks and hitting altos dos pairs with a LeDawn of hearts (suited K-rag) against AK.  But then, the wheels came off.  I had two monster draws that whiffed.  I hit two flush draws on the turn, got it all in, and both times the river boated up my opponent.  But the pièce de résistance was this little beauty.

I was on the button, and there were several limpers to me.  I found satanic Aces (AsAc), my first sighting of Aces all night.  After doing that little mental jig we all do when we see Aces, I raised to $17 to thin the field.  The only caller was a guy on my right who a couple of orbits earlier had called my preflop raise with A4o, and caught an Ace to snap my only Cowboys of the evening.  The next few hands proved he was incapable of folding any Ace preflop.  Let's call him Raggedy Andy.  Ahhh yes, revenge is a dish best served cold.  With a good felting thrown in.  Too bad he only had a couple hundred left, but it would do nicely as an object lesson.

The flop was innocuous enough:  Qc-Jc-2s.  Raggedy Andy checked, I bet $30 into the ~$45 pot, Raggedy Andy insta-called.  Turn was the 2c.  Raggedy Andy checked, I bet $50, and he pushed for another $80.  Sigh.  Could he have a duck?  Acey-ducky?  Crubs?  If he flopped altos dos pairs, I just counterfeited him, and he's the kind of guy who might think I was being a bully with AK and push with just AQ or KQ.  Well, it was $80 to win ~$285, and I had to have at least four outs if I were behind.  I made the crying call, and Raggedy Andy rolled over ... 

8c5c

That's right, this yahoo played heads up, out of position, for a raise, with eight-five of freakin' crubs.  Only an idiot would make that play!  Chasing a flush draw; why do I miss my draws while these morons always hit?  What a terrible play!   Stupid yahoo ...



Oh yeah, I blanked the river, natch.  Live poker is rigged.

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P.S.  I did hit quad deuces later in the evening, but of course nobody had a hand to pay me off.  Sometimes, I play soooo bad.

Weird Night at the Meadows ATM

Posting has been a bit light this week as I had that annoying "work" thing to deal with in advance of a long holiday weekend, and the start of football season.  I had a good chuckle, though, when one of my law partners walked into my office to talk fantasy football.  I'm manager for a league that's been around for 15 years now, and it has the usual 5 or so guys who are passionate about it, and another 9 guys who just like to meet for beer and wings every now and then.  Anyway, I had sent an email to the league last week setting the draft date and location.  Kelly had emailed me back withing 10 minutes:  "I'll be there."  Then, yesterday, he asks me again when the draft will be held.  I remind him of the date, and he says, "Oh.  Well, we [he and his wife] feed the homeless on Thursdays.  Guess I'll need to find someone to draft for me."  Now, I'm somewhat boggled by how his charitable activities escaped him when he initially confirmed he'd attend the draft, but I'm equally intrigued by the possibilities of this line being a useful way to avoid social activities I despise, but can't find a good way to avoid.  Rubber chicken awards dinner?  Sorry, feeding the homeless.  Retirement reception?  Wish I could, but I'm working the soup kitchen.  Hmmm, it even makes the other person feel slightly guilty for attempting to impose on your time in the first place.  Awesome!

Anyway, late afternoon I was talking to an expert witness when Ironman Bonnie starts twittering that he was in Des Moines for biz and wanted a Meadows ATM outing.  I wrapped things up and headed out.  After a short wait, we both got seats in the same new 1/2 NLHE cash game.  It's hard to do justice to that game, but let's just say statistical variance was in full effect, as bad play was constantly rewarded with weird two pairs, gutterball draws, runner-runners, and backdoor flushes happening repeatedly.  Bonnie was playing his usual LAG style, so we had the table in a frenzy in short order:

• Bonnie felted a guy when his 52o ("the Sahara") flopped bajos dos pairs and rivered a canoe.
• Bonnie turned pocket ducks into quads against me (stupid SVB!).
• Bonnie gifted me $75 when he mucked his bluff with the best hand on the river, letting my 44 win.  And he wasn't even drunk!  I may buy him a steak sometime.  Maybe.
• I got a little revenge for the quad ducks, bluffing Bonnie off QQ with a palindromic near-all-in bet of $232, leaving myself $1 for a river bluff.
• Bonnie hung around a hand with 32o, going runner-runner 54 for the idiot straight.  When he led out for a big river bet, and finally got called, I named his hand before he rolled it to tilt his victim.  Classic Bonnie.
• I ran bad for a while, getting down to my last $80 on my third buy-in, but I rallied to get back to even before I cashed out, starting when my Spanish Inquisition used fear, surprise, and a fanatical devotion to a flopped straight to torture out a quadruple-up.
• My Groundhog Day hand du jour was AQ.  I had that hand easily two dozen times in an eight hour session.  I probably lost over $1000 with it, misplaying it every way possible, before getting a little back in a $350 pot when my TPTK held up versus two draws.  I would have made a monster profit if I had merely mucked AQ preflop all night.

AVPer "zzjitterzz" was at the Meadows ATM for the Thursday tourney, and ended up taking third, apparently eschewing my final table advice to "Play better."  Maybe next time he'll listen to me.

Also, there were a couple of "Grumpy" moments.  Early on, a gentleman joined the game who clearly was something of a newbie.  Newbie sat next to legendary uber-nit Fred.  Newbie and I get into a hand, and my 8h6h flops a flush draw with gutterball.  I check-raise Newbie, who calls.  Turn makes my straight open-ended, so I pushed, in large part because Newbie seemed reluctant to call the flop.  Newbie thought a long time, then called off his last $75 or so.  I turned over my cards and say, "I just have the big draw."  Newbie looks at my cards, but doesn't say anything.  River is a blank, and I'm left with 8-high.  Newbie is staring at his hand, says, "I missed", and looks about to muck, when Fred helpfully pipes up, "Well, you have Queen-high."  Newbie looks back at my hand, then tables his Q6s (for a missed straight draw, natch).  Gee thanks, Fred.  Next time, stick to walking old ladies across the slot machine aisles.

The other annoying moment was late in the session when a young guy joined our table while waiting for a seat in the 3/6 LHE game.  He lost a buy-in, then got involved in a multi-way raised pot.  I called in late position with JTo, and the flop obligingly came down K-Q-9 rainbow.  Pac-Man!  Long story short, I bet, Young Guy raises, I push, Young Guy calls all-in for about $150 total.  Young Guy, who clearly fancied himself a player, says, "I got ya".  I rarely roll my cards on an all-in, but I do when I have the nuts or something close to it.  So, I tabled my hand and said, "I don't think so.  I've got the nuts for now."  Young Guy stands up and starts chanting, "pair the board, pair the board", so I figure he has a set.  Turn is another 9, and Young Guy goes all Hevad Khan, slams his hand down, and yells, "Ship it!!", then starts pacing behind the table in triumph until he gets pushed the pot.  Seriously dude, it was a pretty average pot in a 1/2 NL game, not the final table of a WSOP tourney or a monster pot on High Stakes Poker.  Act like you've won a hand before.  Thankfully, Young Guy busted out in the next two orbits; "Vengeance is ours!", sayeth the poker gods.

Canoe!

I played a very short session of poker last night at the Meadows ATM.  I was driving back from a lengthy meeting with an expert witness at the University of Iowa medical center, and found my car taking the Meadows exit.  Well, my car was right, it was Thursday night, with plenty of big action players and tourney players to fill the poker room.  Problem was, management was essentially incompetent, as I stood around for nearly an hour while three—count 'em, three—floor folk stood around bickering about whether to open the 2/5 NLHE game, or a new 1/2 NLHE game.  The blindingly obvious answer was to open the 2/5 game, which would in turn open up enough 1/2 seats to get nearly everyone into the game they wanted to play.  Apparently, the sticking point was that a few guys in the 5/5 mixed game were on the 2/5 list (which was 18 deep), and wouldn't commit to opening the 2/5 game.  This in turn caused angst among the mix game players who were worried about playing short-handed.  Where is the floor with the backbone to tell these guys to stop bellyaching and just pick the damn game they wanted to play?

Anyway, I ended up playing only an hour and a half.  My table had a couple of guys I figured would spew chips, and I was right.  One guy was trying to be a table bully, but I quickly figured him out, letting him three barrel me with air.  One hand, I held 65o, called him all the way down with fourth pair, and won.  An orbit later, I held 54s, flopped the flush draw, and called his river bet after I missed with just bottom pair, and again raked the chips.  Thank you!  Come again!

The rest of the night was pretty standard for me, winning some pots with aggression, losing a couple on big draws that whiffed.  On one hand, I called a preflop raise with 98s, the flop was A-K-9, and the preflop raiser bet big.  I thought about raising, then decided it wasn't worth it.  The other guy proudly slammed down 32o, and spent the next two orbits crowing about his huge win (of $15).  Which leads to our hand of the night:

I was UTG, and found 32o. I figured, why not play it for a lark?  Maybe a little poetic justice will result.  Right on cue, big bluff guy raises to $17, a big bet at this table. Surprisingly, there are five callers to me.  I call as well to close the action—that's right we had seven players to the flop for $17 in a 1/2 NL game.  Crazy.   Anyway, flop is 9-3-2 with two spades.  Donkey Kong!  I know there will be a bet, so I check, intending to check-raise all-in.  Cue big bluffer, who overconfidently puts out $75.  Couple of folds, then hell breaks loose.  One guy raises all-in for a little over $150.  Another plays calls all-in for around $120.  I put both guys on flush draws, or maybe an overpair and a flush draw, so I push all-in as well.  Despite the great odds, big bluffer insta-mucks (hah!).  Sure enough, the other guys show QsTs and AsJs.  Turn is a Queen to give me a little sweat, but the river was a beautiful, if unnecessary, trey of clubs.  Canoe!  I rake the ~$600, and a few hands later, rack up my profit and head home for some well-deserved wine.

CAUTION:  The foregoing poker play was made by an expert (donkey) under controlled, statistically variant conditions.  Please do not try this move at home.  Remember, canoes can be hazardous to your health.

Santa Claus Steals Candy from Babies

Last night, Ironman of Poker (IMOP) cruise director and Templeton Rye hunter Santa Claus was in town for business, so we met up for an after work session of $1/$2 NLHE at the Meadows ATM.  Now Thursday evening action is usually excellent, as there is a tournament at 7:00 p.m. that is generally well-attended, along with a regular $5/$5 mix "big game" that brings out all the degenerates.  The room was busy when we arrived around 5:00 p.m., but we got into a game after a short wait.  Management, however, gets an "F" in logistics for failing to schedule enough dealers.  The big mix game was full with a list, the $2/$5 list was 20 deep, and the $1/$2 list was 10 deep, but no tables could be opened because the dealers were already "locked in" and no additional dealers were scheduled to arrive to open new tables until 6:00 p.m.  Oh well, not my problem!

The game was initially rather uneventful, other than Santa and I needling each other.  Most of the players were fairly tight, and short-stacked, making the game unsuitable for my usual crAAKKer tactics.  I started having flashbacks to the horrors of my last session at the 'Shoe, where I proved the old adage about blood and rocks.  To make matters worse, we had two obnoxious players in the game—one was a crazy looking dude who tried to bully the table and complained every time he got slapped down, and a "poker professor" who had to deeply analyze each and every hand like a skinny and non-funny version of John Madden. 

Crazy dude bullied his way to a $1,000 stack, then promptly gacked it all back and left the table whining about how badly we all played.  For all his self-proclaimed poker smarts, the professor found himself rebuying after spewing chips making a number of rather questionable plays.  By 10:00 p.m., our table had dropped to nitty five-handed play.  Santa and I had each taken a decent chunk of chips off of crazy dude during his supernova, so we were debating racking up our profits (about a buy-in each) and heading to my place to enjoy some pizza and Templeton Rye when we heard the best sound in the poker universe—loud, drunken laughter.

Three guys in golf attire were sent to our table.  Turns out they had been golfing in a charity event all day, and had been "boozing it up since noon".  Excellent.  Two of them ("Andy" and "Billy") were regulars, and the third ("Chip") I have seen on occasion.  A guy already at the table ("Eddie") was also a friend of the crew.  As soon as the crew sat down, the game became a "strap on your seatbelts, keep your hands in the car" roller coaster ride.  The usual hand went down something like this:

• Andy or Billy would raise to $30, often blind.
• Other players would call.
• Occasionally, Andy or Billy would reraise to $100 to steal the pot preflop.
• If the hand made it to the flop, Andy or Billy would bet $100-$200 to try to take it down right there.
• If a non-crew member made it to the flop and seemed interested in the flop, Andy or Billy would call them down to the river to try to knock the player out.

Now, at this point, the game becomes quite easy.  In fact, it was so easy Santa went to the bar to get a drink, realizing there would be no more tough decisions the rest of the night.  Essentially, Santa and I had position on the entire crew, and we simply sat back and waited for premium hands.  Then, we would limp-reraise preflop, and bet big on flops we hit, knowing we were going to be way ahead of the crew's range.  No need for a degree in astrophysics to play this game!

My strategy started off rather poorly, when I ran my 99 into Billy's TT, helping him build up a $1,500 stack.  Then, a weird hand happened that gave Santa and me an IMOP flashback.  Billy was in seat 1, next to the dealer.  He was involved in a big pot, and was facing a big river bet when he slid his cards forward.  The dealer mucked the hand, and started to push the pot.  Suddenly, Billy went absolutely nuts, screaming, "I had King-Ten of spades!  I f--king had King-Ten of f--king spades!"  If true, he would've turned the nut straight and rivered the second nut flush (and I fully believe he in fact had the King-Ten of f--ing spades).  But it looked to me and even his friends that Billy had mucked his hand.  The floor came over, ruled his hand dead, and Billy kept pacing around, screaming about his "King-Ten of f--king spades!" and even tried to dig his hand out of the muck.  The floor, Brandon, did a great job of keeping things calm while standing his ground.  Billy kept arguing, then suddenly blurted out, "Awww, how can I be mad when Brandon is smiling at me so cute?"  His buddy Chip dryly observed, "Billy gets a little gay when he's drunk."  Kudos to Brandon for not only not kicking Billy out, but also getting Billy to calm down, then running interference with the gaggle of security guards who had come into the room to investigate "the disturbance".  Trust me, if Billy had gone home, his buddies—and their cash—would have gone with him.  Instead, the house, the dealers, and the players all kept making money, which is a wonderful thing.

Billy was drunk enough he sometimes had trouble keeping focused on the action, and since he was near me, I would help keep the action flowing by reminding him when it was his turn to act, which led to this exchange that had me laughing:

Me:  "It's $30."

Billy:  "Who raised it?"  [ummm, the same guy who's raised it the past 30 hands?]

Me:  [pointing to Andy]  "Your best buddy down there."

Billy:  "Oh no, he's not my best friend!"  [points at Eddie]  "He's my best friend, ever!  I was even best man in his wedding!"

[pause]

Billy:  "Well, it was his first wedding, before the divorce." 

Billy:  [turns to Eddie]  "Sorry dude!"

Now many players fear or are annoyed by maniacs, who admittedly do upset the game.  But they serve a very useful purpose—they pry chips away from rocks and redistribute them to the table.  Case in point was an old guy in seat 10 who had bought in for $100, played one hand every hour, and always had a top five hand when he played.  Old Guy had built up a $600 stack, but in the course of two hands, Billy and Andy took it all.  The big hand was when Andy raised to $30 preflop, Old Guy reraised to $100, Andy shrugged and called.  Flop was all low rags.  Old Guy bet $100, Andy called.  Turn was a low blank, Old Guy shoved for about $200, Andy snap called, having turned two pair with 74o.  Old Guy rolls Aces, natch, and fails to catch up.  God bless the maniacs!

Billy quickly demonstrated the life cycle of the drunk maniac—build a big stack with improbable junk hands, get slapped upside the head by math, bleed all the chips back, rebuy, gack those chips off, hit the ATM, lather, rinse, repeat.  Billy probably pumped four buy-ins into the game, then borrowed another two buy-ins from Andy and Chip.  Andy put four buy-ins on the table before starting to build a monster stack, mostly at the expense of Billy and Chip.  By the end of the session, the action at our table was easily heavier than the $2/$5 NLHE or the $5/$5 "big game", with many pots running over $500, and multi-player all-ins occurring a couple of times per orbit.  As for Santa and me, we simply collected our share of the maniac tax, picking big hands to play, waiting for favorable flops, then punishing the maniacs with check-calls and value bets.  Taking down a limped pot with a huge limp-reraise squeeze play would generally net $100+ in profit, which was merely an appetizer for the big pots where Andy or Billy would see a flop.  I won three monsterpotten with flopped trips, while Santa was a little more conventional, using Kings, Yaks, and a couple of AK hands for the bulk of his profit.  Speaking of profit, while the drunk crew provided plenty of entertainment, the real fun in poker is in stacking chips from monster pots.  As you can tell, we had a blast!

My stack about an hour before leaving.  By the time I cashed out,

I had added three black chips to the mix.  Note the lucky

"Godfather" chips in the lower left; it was a full stack by cash out!

Santa's stack about an hour before cash out.  Santa parlayed Kings

into an additional four pillars of the pyramid before cashing out.

(That's my arm on the right side of the picture, guarding my stack

against Santa's patented stack stealing swoop maneuver.)

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ADDENDUM (21 August 2010):  I forgot one of the sickest beats of the night.  Andy blind raised preflop to $30, Billy reraised to $100, and Andy called.  Flop was A-A-2.  Andy checked, Billy bet, Andy raised, Billy pushed, and Andy called.  Andy asks Billy, "Do you have an Ace?"  Billy nods "yes" and rolls AK.  Board runs out, and Andy finally rolls over ... pocket ducks for the flopped boat!  Hilarity ensued ...

A Trip to Pleasure Island

Have you ever had one of those sessions where you are playing bad and know it, yet you find yourself continuing to play, and play poorly? Well, last night I played the starring role in Donkeys at the Meadows.

I played for about four hours at the Meadows ATM (where I also encountered one of their idiosnycratic house rules), after a nice dinner at the Raccoon River Brew Pub with the sig other and some of his gal pals who were visiting from out of town.  The room was pretty quiet for a Saturday night during race season: there was no $2/5 NLHE or $5/5 PL mix game, so I'm not certain where the "big game" degenerates were playing.  At 8:00 pm, there were only two $1/2 NLHE games and two short-handed $3/6 LHE games running, though another table or two opened up as the racing wound down. 

The table had a pretty fun vibe, and there were weird hands galore.  The strangest run of variance was for one guy who laid down quads on back-to-back hands.  Well, he laid down hands that would have become quads had he stayed in.  The first hand he held 88 on a 7-7-5 board, but gave it up after a raise and reraise, only to see the board roll out 8-8.   The very next hand, he folded A4s to a big preflop raise and reraise, only to see the board run out 4-A-4-4-x.  I took a big hit on my second hand when my AKo ran into Q3 soooted on a board of K-Q-3-A-3.  Blech.  But I built my stack back up on the fifth hand, when my sooooted Spanish Inquisition (6-3, a much stronger hand than Q3, obviously), outran AhKh on a board of 6h-4h-2d-3x-6x.   Hilarity ensued!  I also helped the cause with a couple of good reads to pick off bluffs, but got stacked when my QQ ran into AK and the A flopped.  Le sigh.

At that point, I began my Pleasure Island conversion into a total donkey.  For those of you who aren't old enough to remember the Disney version of Pinocchio, there is a part of the film where boys are lured to a place called "Pleasure Island" where rules didn't apply to them, and they could drink, smoke, gamble, and generally "make jackasses of themselves".  Of course, as in all good morality tales, these boys became cursed, by literally transforming into donkeys who are sold off by the evil lord of the Island to work in salt mines. 

My problems began with an inability to figure out the right approach to the table.  There was a weird mix of short and deep stacks, and differences in styles of play.  For some reason, I ended up shifting into a too-passive mode of play, finding myself getting into pots with decent starting hands, then having to abandon ship when either a tight player made a big bet/raise, or a deep player showed too much interest in a pot.  I did manage to pull off one nice bluff by check-calling the flop and turn with AQ unimproved, then value-bet bluffing the river based solely on a correct read of an unimproved overpair to the flop that got scared of two overs hitting the turn and river.  Of course, I lied and told the guy I had called with overs and paired my Yak on the turn, which seemed to annoy him (which pleased me).

Unfortunately, that play was the exception for my skillz.  In addition to letting myself get bled to death by not tightening up in early position—Position? We don't need no stinking position!—I ended up gacking off my stack with a semi-bluff on the turn with KJs, having picked up a gutshot straight draw to go with my flopped flush draw.  I got called by a turned set of Queens (ouch!), and bricked the river.  Doh!  Apparently, my instinct to check-raise the flop was correct.  Aggression?  We don't need no stinking aggression!  My next stack-off was even more brainlocked, shoving with AQ on a Q-high flop ... into bottom set and a flopped straight.  Error!  Big pot?  We don't need no stinking big hand!  At that point, I knew I was mentally not on my game, so I called it a night.

I still had an hour or so to kill before picking up the gals from the bars, so I wandered down to the casino floor to see if my buddy Brian was playing craps.  Brian wasn't around, but I was bored, so I sat down at the $25 blackjack table, something I hadn't played in months.*  I ended up getting blessed by the blackjack gods, and was able to win my poker buy-ins back plus a nice buy-in profit on top!  My biggest hand was a $100 bet where I was dealt 88 against the dealer's 5.  I split it out, and my first hand found a 3, which I doubled, and hit a 10!  Yahtzee!  My next 8 found another brother 8, so I split again.  The second 8 drew a 10.  The third 8 found another 3, I doubled again, and again drew a 10!  Donkey Kong!  The dealer showed 15 total, and busted on one card, bringing cosmic balance to the Force.  As I told the very attractive female dealer, "If I weren't gay and married, I would totally kiss you."  Since I was sober, I cashed out before I became like the drunk wedding party guy at my table, who was "riding the wave" and blew through his $500 buy-in, the $5,000 in profits he had amassed while surfing with variance, and $2,000 more from his wallet before going under for good.

So, the moral of the story is, "It's OK to gamble if you're already a donkey."

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 *  I probably play blackjack or craps 4-5 times a year.  Two waitresses and the cage gal, who all work some shifts in the poker room, each asked me, "What are you doing down here?"  So, I figure I'll know I have a gambling problem as soon as I'm on a first name basis with any of the folks on the casino floor!