You know all that stuff in my last blog about the light of the poker gods 'shining benevolently' on me. To use an expression of the English: BOLLOCKS.
Listen, let's get something straight right here - Party Poker is donkey central. Ok, you knew that - but I really must emphasise this point: it is the Fuck-O Metropolis. I mean, it's not serious, is it? It can't be a real poker site, can it? Does Party Poker hire thousands of actor/players and ask them to play the most horrible poker they can conceive of in order to maintain the site's reputation as donkey central? Because, I can't see a really bad player playing that bad consistently if they tried. The level of crap play you see on PP takes a level of dedication and premediatation that - you have to believe - cannot happen accidently.
You see, that's the real conspiracy behind PP - they don't rig the cards; they rig the players. The thing is, no one in the real world can play that badly. It's just not possible. Even beginner players do SOME things right SOME of the time. Oh no - it is the diabolical genius behind the creators of PP at play here: they know to keep players coming to the site with the allure of great riches, that they must keep hoards of arseclowns on the payroll to give the site its well-deserved reputation as the poker donkey Shang-ri-la.
So, yes, as you probably guessed, I was bad beat, outdrawn, donkified, and drawn and quartered over the weekend. I bubbled on a satellite for the Aussie Millions, I bubbled (from a healthy chip stack) on the 40 000 guaranteed, and I bubbled on a third big tournament (I'm pretty sure it was an Omaha Hi/Lo tournament). I do recall executing a good bluff at a BAD time in the Aussie Millions sattellite. I bluffed at a pot that an idiot calling station obviously had no interest in (a big bluff), and they called with a small pair with four overcards, with a flush and a straight possibility down, and I think the board was even paired.
But I don't blame the horrible, horrible, appalling, blisteringly stupid call by Queen Donkey of the Party Poker People - oh no: I blame myself. I had written on my player notes for this person: "Calling Station. DO NOT BLUFF UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES". And yet I did it anyway. What is wrong with me? I even have a note written in big black ink, stuck the top of my monitor that says DO NOT BLUFF. People at PP simply do not fold in tournaments with anything from a $5 to $50 entry fee.
I must listen to Harrington - he emphasises this point exactly in his book on poker strategy: don't bluff at low buy-in tournaments as you will generally be called anyway. He does note that this means value bets are always rewarded, and for that matter, it is often worth going all-in even if you have the nuts as you will probably be called anyway.
Note to self: listen to Harrington, idiot.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Out of the Darkness
So my local casino has a $70 buy-in tournament every Thursday night. Three tables, 3000 in starting chips, and a pretty quick blind structure. While fast-structured tournaments such as this one obviously increase the influence of luck on results over skill, I think they are a good opportunity to help a player develop their short-stack play (as in this tournament, you are pretty much always short stacked after a couple of blind increases).
After a solid first 9 months playing in this tournament, I'd been running bad for about 2 months or so. Bad cards, bad beats, some bad play - and after this had been going on for some time - a loss of confidence.
This Thursday seemed to be no different. After the first four levels (25/50 - 50/100 - 100/200 - 200/400) I had played precisely ONE hand. Normally I play a little looser in the first couple of levels - limping with suited connectors or small pairs and trying to see cheap flops. Unfortunately, I just wasn't given the opportunity at my starting table: a maniac kept raising nearly every hand pre-flop, and a solid player to my right was hitting good cards and raising every other time. In addition, there were a couple of calling stations to my left whom I figured would probably call if I tried to steal their blinds. So I folded for pretty much the first hour, raising once (on the very last hand of the 200/400 level) with 77 on the button to win the blinds. At the first break I had about 2600 left in my stack.
We came back at 400/800 and after catching nothing for a few more minutes, I found AJ in middle position and pushed. When a short-stacked player on the button called, and an early position limper also called I didn't figure I had much hope (Cloutier rightly calls AJ the biggest trap hand in Hold'em - when an A on the flop you are often outkicked, when a J falls you could be up against an overpair, it can't stand a re-raise, and when you raise with it and get called it is often by a better hand). Anyway, my two opponents, determined to prove Cloutier wrong, turned over A2 and A5, and after floping a J and surviving a flush draw against the A5, I was up to 6500.
The blinds then jumped up to 700/1400 (ridiculous, I know), I was on the BB when UTG limped and the SB paid the extra 700. I looked down to see 45 offsuit and checked my option (the UTG player was pretty loose and could well have called if I had tried to push pre-flop). It didn't matter - the flop came out with a beautiful 355. I checked, UTG bet 1400, SB folded, and I check-raised all-in for 5100. UTG thought for a long time - there was two hearts on the board and I thought he may have had a flush draw. Eventually he folded and I breathed a sigh of relief, my stack now up to 10000 (I know I should have been hoping for a call, but there comes a time, after continually being outdrawn on, when you've taken repeated bad beats without respite, when you are happy to take down pots without a showdown - no matter how far ahead of your opponent you may be).
After the BB special I went card dead again (or remained card dead), and by the time we were down to the final 10 I had 6000 in chips after losing a couple of blinds (which were now at 1000/2000). I had about 5 minutes left before the next blind increase to find a hand and push. If the blinds got to 1500 - 3000, it was obviously going to be difficult getting the BB to fold to my bet. But, to be frank, I was happy just to have made the final table. I'd been through my worst run ever with live tournaments recently and by this time of the night I was usually at the bar trying to persuade myself - through the medium of beer - that it was the donkey plays of others and not my own mistakes that was causing these early exits.
There were a number of short stacks at the table and they went to war immediately - on the first hand UTG, and an early position player, went all in - I folded A9 and someone after me went all in as well. The three players then turned over, respectively, 72o (nice), KT and QJ - I had folded the best hand, but KT ended up hitting trips, and I can't see a call with A9 being correct in that spot in any case.
At the 2000/4000 level things were looking pretty grim - I found myself with only 3500 left after I paid the BB. A woman in middle position limped (she was new to the game - she could have had anything but a suspected she had something solid) and the SB folded. I looked down at Q7 and checked - I wasn't going to make her fold by pushing pre-flop after she had already limped for 4000 . I did feel, however, that she would not bet unless she hit the flop and could well fold if she missed and I bet at it - even if the pot odds demanded she had to call (she was still learning the game - it was the first time she had made it to the final table). I checked the flop of J63, and she checked behind. When a second J hit the turn I immediately threw in my last 3500 - I knew it couldn't have hit her, and let's face it, I had no other options - she folded straight away. I raked in the 13500 chip pot and was able to breathe again.
The next hand the action was folded around to me in the small blind. I looked down at Q5s (in spades) I considered calling the BB as I knew the player to my left wouldn't make a move without a premium hand. As I picked up some chips to call, I heard the BB emit a little groan of disappointment - so I immediately grabbed the rest of my chips and pushed.
He called instantly - I laughed thinking he had trapped me and got up from the table as I flipped my cards over (we were about equal in chips). The speed of his call made me think he had a decent pocket pair, maybe even something horrible (for me) like AQ. When he did turn over his cards I could not believe what I saw... Q2 of clubs! I couldn't believe my luck and sat back down - the dealer, in turn, lay down a perfect flop: a five and two spades, by the turn my opponent was drawing dead, and I doubled up to about 26000 in chips (later he said he called 'cause he thought I was stealing - sure, ok, but Q2?).
The final table had soon thinned out to about 4 players. The woman I had bluffed earlier was still in - the other two players were good tournament regulars. I busted the lady when I raised with A9 and she was forced to call on the BB with 96 as most of her chips were already in the pot. I raised with decent hands a couple more times to win the blinds and semi-bluffed with a four-flush to work my stack up to over 50 000 (of 90 000 in play). I knocked another player out when he was forced to go in from the small blind with K3 (he was short-stacked) and I was forced to call from the BB with A6 (inspiring stuff). I won the 60 - 40 and was heads up with about a 2 - 1 chip lead over a young player called Alex - she played a good game, and while she was pretty tight on a full table, I had seen her make moves in the past when it was down to either short handed or heads up.
I tried limping on the first heads up hand with T7s and she promptly pushed all-in. Fair enough. Clearly I had two options against this opponent, and limping wasn't one of them. We traded blinds for a while. Whenever Alex raised I would have trash cards and therefore an easy fold - and every time I raised she threw her cards in the muck pretty quick. After this went on for a while and the blinds had escalated to 5000/10000, I knew we were getting to a point were I would have to push with a marginal hand to try to take down one of the blinds. Alex had a little under 30 000 by this time and losing one BB would pretty much cripple her. Just as I was going over this in my mind I found myself with 99 in the SB (the best starting hand I had had all tournament) and pushed. She said "I think you've got me beat but I call" - and flipped over 88. Not much she could do in that spot. The flop, turn and river didn't bring any surprises and thank god, I had broken my losing streak.
So I won a t-shirt and 750 bucks. No complaints there.
More importantly was a feeling that my exile in poker purgatory might be coming to an end. I shouldn't jinx myself, but perhaps the light of the poker gods will shine down benelovently for a time.
...
One point that should be made about short stack tournaments such as this - while everyone talks up aggression as THE key poker trait in NL hold'em (and they may well be right), I don't think patience gets the credit it deserves. Being able to control your frustration - and picking the right spots to play - is crucial. I see a lot of players who confuse aggression with stupid bluffs and macho obstinence - people who can't lay down a hand and who think the only way forward is coming over the top. I see this online, on TV and (less so) in live play.
I guess TV is where a lot of players learn this mindless, shove-all-the-chips-in-the-middle type play. But I also think perhaps it's a male thing (and this is obviously a game played predominately by males) - a male ego thing, that is. I don't want to overemphasise this point, but, in particular with younger male players, a simian, chest beating inability to slow down, be patient, fold a hand, and yes, back down once in a while, leads them right to the rail.
After a solid first 9 months playing in this tournament, I'd been running bad for about 2 months or so. Bad cards, bad beats, some bad play - and after this had been going on for some time - a loss of confidence.
This Thursday seemed to be no different. After the first four levels (25/50 - 50/100 - 100/200 - 200/400) I had played precisely ONE hand. Normally I play a little looser in the first couple of levels - limping with suited connectors or small pairs and trying to see cheap flops. Unfortunately, I just wasn't given the opportunity at my starting table: a maniac kept raising nearly every hand pre-flop, and a solid player to my right was hitting good cards and raising every other time. In addition, there were a couple of calling stations to my left whom I figured would probably call if I tried to steal their blinds. So I folded for pretty much the first hour, raising once (on the very last hand of the 200/400 level) with 77 on the button to win the blinds. At the first break I had about 2600 left in my stack.
We came back at 400/800 and after catching nothing for a few more minutes, I found AJ in middle position and pushed. When a short-stacked player on the button called, and an early position limper also called I didn't figure I had much hope (Cloutier rightly calls AJ the biggest trap hand in Hold'em - when an A on the flop you are often outkicked, when a J falls you could be up against an overpair, it can't stand a re-raise, and when you raise with it and get called it is often by a better hand). Anyway, my two opponents, determined to prove Cloutier wrong, turned over A2 and A5, and after floping a J and surviving a flush draw against the A5, I was up to 6500.
The blinds then jumped up to 700/1400 (ridiculous, I know), I was on the BB when UTG limped and the SB paid the extra 700. I looked down to see 45 offsuit and checked my option (the UTG player was pretty loose and could well have called if I had tried to push pre-flop). It didn't matter - the flop came out with a beautiful 355. I checked, UTG bet 1400, SB folded, and I check-raised all-in for 5100. UTG thought for a long time - there was two hearts on the board and I thought he may have had a flush draw. Eventually he folded and I breathed a sigh of relief, my stack now up to 10000 (I know I should have been hoping for a call, but there comes a time, after continually being outdrawn on, when you've taken repeated bad beats without respite, when you are happy to take down pots without a showdown - no matter how far ahead of your opponent you may be).
After the BB special I went card dead again (or remained card dead), and by the time we were down to the final 10 I had 6000 in chips after losing a couple of blinds (which were now at 1000/2000). I had about 5 minutes left before the next blind increase to find a hand and push. If the blinds got to 1500 - 3000, it was obviously going to be difficult getting the BB to fold to my bet. But, to be frank, I was happy just to have made the final table. I'd been through my worst run ever with live tournaments recently and by this time of the night I was usually at the bar trying to persuade myself - through the medium of beer - that it was the donkey plays of others and not my own mistakes that was causing these early exits.
There were a number of short stacks at the table and they went to war immediately - on the first hand UTG, and an early position player, went all in - I folded A9 and someone after me went all in as well. The three players then turned over, respectively, 72o (nice), KT and QJ - I had folded the best hand, but KT ended up hitting trips, and I can't see a call with A9 being correct in that spot in any case.
At the 2000/4000 level things were looking pretty grim - I found myself with only 3500 left after I paid the BB. A woman in middle position limped (she was new to the game - she could have had anything but a suspected she had something solid) and the SB folded. I looked down at Q7 and checked - I wasn't going to make her fold by pushing pre-flop after she had already limped for 4000 . I did feel, however, that she would not bet unless she hit the flop and could well fold if she missed and I bet at it - even if the pot odds demanded she had to call (she was still learning the game - it was the first time she had made it to the final table). I checked the flop of J63, and she checked behind. When a second J hit the turn I immediately threw in my last 3500 - I knew it couldn't have hit her, and let's face it, I had no other options - she folded straight away. I raked in the 13500 chip pot and was able to breathe again.
The next hand the action was folded around to me in the small blind. I looked down at Q5s (in spades) I considered calling the BB as I knew the player to my left wouldn't make a move without a premium hand. As I picked up some chips to call, I heard the BB emit a little groan of disappointment - so I immediately grabbed the rest of my chips and pushed.
He called instantly - I laughed thinking he had trapped me and got up from the table as I flipped my cards over (we were about equal in chips). The speed of his call made me think he had a decent pocket pair, maybe even something horrible (for me) like AQ. When he did turn over his cards I could not believe what I saw... Q2 of clubs! I couldn't believe my luck and sat back down - the dealer, in turn, lay down a perfect flop: a five and two spades, by the turn my opponent was drawing dead, and I doubled up to about 26000 in chips (later he said he called 'cause he thought I was stealing - sure, ok, but Q2?).
The final table had soon thinned out to about 4 players. The woman I had bluffed earlier was still in - the other two players were good tournament regulars. I busted the lady when I raised with A9 and she was forced to call on the BB with 96 as most of her chips were already in the pot. I raised with decent hands a couple more times to win the blinds and semi-bluffed with a four-flush to work my stack up to over 50 000 (of 90 000 in play). I knocked another player out when he was forced to go in from the small blind with K3 (he was short-stacked) and I was forced to call from the BB with A6 (inspiring stuff). I won the 60 - 40 and was heads up with about a 2 - 1 chip lead over a young player called Alex - she played a good game, and while she was pretty tight on a full table, I had seen her make moves in the past when it was down to either short handed or heads up.
I tried limping on the first heads up hand with T7s and she promptly pushed all-in. Fair enough. Clearly I had two options against this opponent, and limping wasn't one of them. We traded blinds for a while. Whenever Alex raised I would have trash cards and therefore an easy fold - and every time I raised she threw her cards in the muck pretty quick. After this went on for a while and the blinds had escalated to 5000/10000, I knew we were getting to a point were I would have to push with a marginal hand to try to take down one of the blinds. Alex had a little under 30 000 by this time and losing one BB would pretty much cripple her. Just as I was going over this in my mind I found myself with 99 in the SB (the best starting hand I had had all tournament) and pushed. She said "I think you've got me beat but I call" - and flipped over 88. Not much she could do in that spot. The flop, turn and river didn't bring any surprises and thank god, I had broken my losing streak.
So I won a t-shirt and 750 bucks. No complaints there.
More importantly was a feeling that my exile in poker purgatory might be coming to an end. I shouldn't jinx myself, but perhaps the light of the poker gods will shine down benelovently for a time.
...
One point that should be made about short stack tournaments such as this - while everyone talks up aggression as THE key poker trait in NL hold'em (and they may well be right), I don't think patience gets the credit it deserves. Being able to control your frustration - and picking the right spots to play - is crucial. I see a lot of players who confuse aggression with stupid bluffs and macho obstinence - people who can't lay down a hand and who think the only way forward is coming over the top. I see this online, on TV and (less so) in live play.
I guess TV is where a lot of players learn this mindless, shove-all-the-chips-in-the-middle type play. But I also think perhaps it's a male thing (and this is obviously a game played predominately by males) - a male ego thing, that is. I don't want to overemphasise this point, but, in particular with younger male players, a simian, chest beating inability to slow down, be patient, fold a hand, and yes, back down once in a while, leads them right to the rail.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
The Royal Sampler
Oh yes, another poker blog. But there's something that makes this particular blog that makes it infinitely more rewarding that the multitude that now populate cyberspace. Can you pick it? Well, it should become readily apparent, but for the impatient, indifferent or slow I will reveal the difference at the end of this post.
The term, Royal Sampler, is of course a Simpsons reference. It was the Stonecutter episode where Homer is revealed to be the head of the Stonecutters. The other Stonecutters, out of deference to their new-found leader, let Homer win at poker by calling his hand, which had nothing - no pair, no straight or flush or even a draw to one - the 'Royal Sampler'. Thus, if you get, for example, an Omaha hand with no pair, no connectors, of all different suits, and no picture cards, you may call it a Royal Sampler.
This is not to say that I am a Simpsons fan. These days the show is shithouse - a shadow of its former self. It's fair to say the show is predictable, self-indulgent, and painfully unfunny. The show's creators should be dragged out to mainstreet and summarily struck about the groin and temple areas with a hatchet for their crimes.
However, this blog is not a review of popular culture, it is a poker blog, so to poker we shall ride.
And what do I know of poker? Very little, it would be fair to say. I have been playing for little over a year. At first poorly, then after awhile, better than poorly, and now, alas, poorly again. I must confess my online bankroll, which had risen to unimpressive heights, has recently been reduced to laughable lows. My live results, too, have experienced a comparable downfall. I have also recently tried to branch out from hold 'em into the world of 7-card, Omaha, and both their hi/lo versions; a decision, I suspect, that has played an important role in my ever-diminishing bankroll.
But I am infatuated with the game. I read on it, I play, and I think about the damn game just about every waking hour, and most of my sleeping ones. I talk about it with uninterested passers-by, regale my girlfriend with bad beat stories, sit in Casino lounges and receive couselling from fellow players, I've memorised just about every line from Rounders, imagined my victory speech after winning the main event at the WSOP, once I even cut up two small rectangular cards at work and drew K in black ink in the corner of each and pretended I had been dealt pocket kings. Every now and again I would flip up the corner and let out a satisfied sigh.
So sad, so very sad.
To be specific, the main games I play are N/L online cash games and tournaments, and N/L live tournaments. I play limit hold 'em live and online, although it's fair to say limit hold 'em is a stupid, donkey game that gets me so mad it makes my teeth hurt. For lower limit players such as myself, limit hold 'em is the ultimate destination for the aspiring masochist. I mean, let's face it - bad beats are the norm and the game is just fucking dumb. You may have a positive expectation in the long, long run - but the damage done to one's emotional stability and psychological wellbeing simply doesn't makes up for that 2bb/hour in on the 2/4 tables. I mean, what percentage of low limit players either a) suffer serious psychological damage from being repeatedly beaten by long-shot draws, b) crack their monitor by hitting it repeatedly with the keyboard, or c) require marriage counseling after being asked to put the dishes away by their partner after having your aces cracked for the third time and you turn and howl at them in an incandescent rage and they fear you are either possessed by satan or spinning out on a crystal meth high or succumbing to the relentless voices in your head that demands you kill kill kill all the donkeys at Party Poker.
Phew.
My cost/benefit analysis, therefore, for low-limit, 'limit' hold 'em would be - don't do it comrade: your measly monetary profits will quickly lose their lustre when compared to the damage done to your sanity.
I'm really not sure where I am going with poker. I'd like to get better, sometimes I think about quitting my job and trying to grind out a living (reality however, intrudes on this count and carefully slaps me across the face) , I also wouldn't mind getting into the Aussie millions next January.
For the time being, however, I will try to recount what modest gains I do make on the path to poker greatness (or perhaps I should say poker greater-than-average-ness), strategies I figure out for improving my play (or more precisely, strategies I steal from other players), the occasional hand analysis, the frequent bitch about the gibbering swarms of chimpanzees at PP, and bad beat stories by the bucketload.
That will do for the moment. I played in a tournament last night at the local casino and won - so I will recount this feat in my next blog (I started writing this a couple days ago before the tournament, so, within the breadth of this entry, I have gone from the darkness of bad beat despair and now can see, in the distance, the shining light of the poker gods).
Oh, and the difference between other blogs? Well, none really. My poker observations will be just as inane, my bad beat stories just as predictable (' and then he got a runner-runner flush!!!'), my occasional digressions from the world of poker into other realms equally as ill-informed. Sorry to get your hopes up.
...
OK, OK I'll allow one difference: THIS BLOG WILL MAKE YOU IMMUNE FROM BAD BEATS FOR 24 HOURS AFTER BEING VIEWED.
There you go. Happy now?
The term, Royal Sampler, is of course a Simpsons reference. It was the Stonecutter episode where Homer is revealed to be the head of the Stonecutters. The other Stonecutters, out of deference to their new-found leader, let Homer win at poker by calling his hand, which had nothing - no pair, no straight or flush or even a draw to one - the 'Royal Sampler'. Thus, if you get, for example, an Omaha hand with no pair, no connectors, of all different suits, and no picture cards, you may call it a Royal Sampler.
This is not to say that I am a Simpsons fan. These days the show is shithouse - a shadow of its former self. It's fair to say the show is predictable, self-indulgent, and painfully unfunny. The show's creators should be dragged out to mainstreet and summarily struck about the groin and temple areas with a hatchet for their crimes.
However, this blog is not a review of popular culture, it is a poker blog, so to poker we shall ride.
And what do I know of poker? Very little, it would be fair to say. I have been playing for little over a year. At first poorly, then after awhile, better than poorly, and now, alas, poorly again. I must confess my online bankroll, which had risen to unimpressive heights, has recently been reduced to laughable lows. My live results, too, have experienced a comparable downfall. I have also recently tried to branch out from hold 'em into the world of 7-card, Omaha, and both their hi/lo versions; a decision, I suspect, that has played an important role in my ever-diminishing bankroll.
But I am infatuated with the game. I read on it, I play, and I think about the damn game just about every waking hour, and most of my sleeping ones. I talk about it with uninterested passers-by, regale my girlfriend with bad beat stories, sit in Casino lounges and receive couselling from fellow players, I've memorised just about every line from Rounders, imagined my victory speech after winning the main event at the WSOP, once I even cut up two small rectangular cards at work and drew K in black ink in the corner of each and pretended I had been dealt pocket kings. Every now and again I would flip up the corner and let out a satisfied sigh.
So sad, so very sad.
To be specific, the main games I play are N/L online cash games and tournaments, and N/L live tournaments. I play limit hold 'em live and online, although it's fair to say limit hold 'em is a stupid, donkey game that gets me so mad it makes my teeth hurt. For lower limit players such as myself, limit hold 'em is the ultimate destination for the aspiring masochist. I mean, let's face it - bad beats are the norm and the game is just fucking dumb. You may have a positive expectation in the long, long run - but the damage done to one's emotional stability and psychological wellbeing simply doesn't makes up for that 2bb/hour in on the 2/4 tables. I mean, what percentage of low limit players either a) suffer serious psychological damage from being repeatedly beaten by long-shot draws, b) crack their monitor by hitting it repeatedly with the keyboard, or c) require marriage counseling after being asked to put the dishes away by their partner after having your aces cracked for the third time and you turn and howl at them in an incandescent rage and they fear you are either possessed by satan or spinning out on a crystal meth high or succumbing to the relentless voices in your head that demands you kill kill kill all the donkeys at Party Poker.
Phew.
My cost/benefit analysis, therefore, for low-limit, 'limit' hold 'em would be - don't do it comrade: your measly monetary profits will quickly lose their lustre when compared to the damage done to your sanity.
I'm really not sure where I am going with poker. I'd like to get better, sometimes I think about quitting my job and trying to grind out a living (reality however, intrudes on this count and carefully slaps me across the face) , I also wouldn't mind getting into the Aussie millions next January.
For the time being, however, I will try to recount what modest gains I do make on the path to poker greatness (or perhaps I should say poker greater-than-average-ness), strategies I figure out for improving my play (or more precisely, strategies I steal from other players), the occasional hand analysis, the frequent bitch about the gibbering swarms of chimpanzees at PP, and bad beat stories by the bucketload.
That will do for the moment. I played in a tournament last night at the local casino and won - so I will recount this feat in my next blog (I started writing this a couple days ago before the tournament, so, within the breadth of this entry, I have gone from the darkness of bad beat despair and now can see, in the distance, the shining light of the poker gods).
Oh, and the difference between other blogs? Well, none really. My poker observations will be just as inane, my bad beat stories just as predictable (' and then he got a runner-runner flush!!!'), my occasional digressions from the world of poker into other realms equally as ill-informed. Sorry to get your hopes up.
...
OK, OK I'll allow one difference: THIS BLOG WILL MAKE YOU IMMUNE FROM BAD BEATS FOR 24 HOURS AFTER BEING VIEWED.
There you go. Happy now?
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