How to win the Donkament

I won Kat's Donkament last night, and need to update my donkament strategy, which I previously posted.

Step 1: Make sure you play the "next 5 hands all in" when Kat sez so. I did this (or at least called the all-in) all 11 times, and built up massive karma points for ...

Step 2: Get crazy good cards, and have them hold up:

Hand	# of times	Win%
AA	5	100
AKs	1	100
AKo	1	100
AQo	6	100
ATs	3	67
Etc.	Etc.	Etc.

Step 3: Double up against the chip leader, and become the new chip leader.

Step 4: Flop the nut flush heads up, and have your opponent bluff you off of your "draw".

Step 5: Profit!!! Or, maybe not, maybe just get back some of the cash that I've burned off in the weekly Friday night tournament. If I'm anywhere close to break-even, I'm way ahead life-wise. It's my favorite tournament of the week -- nice start time, great format, and friendly people who will not go ballistic if you make a bad play.

Today I did a lot of yard work, including pulling up almost all of the wild garlic (I think that's what it is), gathering and bagging or cutting up all the sticks, and starting on the raking and dandelion pulling. I don't remember this many sticks last year; it seems as though all of our trees dropped a branch or two over the winter. Anyway, I'm way behind on house stuff, partly due to being in Europe for vacation instead of at home. So, I worked all day, and into the evening, and now I'm about ready to fall asleep.

Minraises

I'm getting killed by minraises, in tournaments and cash games. There are at least two types of minraises, the clueless minraise and the minraise that wants you to call. What the hell are you going to do with a minraise? Reraise? Call? Fold? Rewinding to check behind or to check in hopes that he will slowplay his monster would be the best option, but I don't have that button. I was so frustrated last night that I ejaculated insults at my opponents while trying to watch television with Coffee Jones. She told me to STFU, and not get so upset. I guess I must have been on tilt. It's not the beats that get me, it when I play bad, or when someone outplays me continually that I get frustrated. Time to change tables I guess.

I'm playing in another BBT3 tournament tonight, the Riverchasers. After my quick start, I haven't done much lately. I decided after the first few weeks not to play in the later starting and/or more expensive events, so that leaves two tournaments a week, starting at 9:00 and 9:30. That's not too bad, and the way I've been playing, leaves plenty of time for sleep.

Spatial relationships

Driving in the U.K. was difficult, because my brain has a model built up of what a car is, and the model includes everything from where my body should be in relation to side of the road, how to make a left turn, how to pull out into a gap in the fast lane, and everything else that is completely automatic about driving in my usual milieu. When plunked into a wide SUV on narrow roads with cars parked on both sides, and asked to drive on the wrong side of the road with the shift lever on the wrong side, my mental model breaks down, and I have to use brain power just to keep the car's position and velocity approximately correct. Brain power that is normally used for things like reading signs, navigating, talking, eating, or looking for cool stuff. It can be exhausting. After each long drive, I would ask when my next driving assignment was, and upon hearing that it was more than 12 hours away, I would crack open that first (refrigerated) beer. Glass to lips is another one of those automatic actions!

We drove from Fountain's Abbey to Newcastle to catch the ferry, and my toture was almost over for the vacation. Just one last exercise in navigation -- dropping off the rental in downtown Newcastle. So I asked a friendly bobby, and he pointed to a large entertainment building and said to follow it around, but don't go in the far right lane. So I did this, went straight, and then noticed that the building was fading off to my left. So, with the rental car place less than one block in front of me, and probably visible if I had been looking at it, I made the next left, and wandered around for a while. Finally, I pulled into a parking lot, and called the rental company. As I was describing where I was, I saw a sign down the hill with the the word Westmoreland in the name of a business. Since Westmoreland was the name of the street the rental place was on, I was happy. The employee said they were right across the street from that building. Once I dropped off the car, I asked where the train station was, and she pointed at this large building, when I realized -- Doh! -- it was only 2 blocks back to where I had asked the cop for directions. I also remembered the map that I had looked at on the web before the trip, when the rental location looked real close to the train station. So now I have a great, but probably useless mental model of downtown Newcastle.

We took a bus from the train station to the ferry terminal, and boarded the ferry. The security guys gave me the full frisk, but did not touch the rest of my family. Maybe my "angry liberal" attitude shows when I come in contact with papers-please-asking control freaks. Anyway, the ship was much nicer than we thought it would be. We were expecting something akin to the Scotia Prince, but it was closer to the Norwegian Majesty. Unfortunately, the casino was not as good as the ones on the aforementioned vessels. So, no poker for Daddy. I chatted with the potential child molester Kids' Club pirate character, making sure he wasn't going to take my daughter to find any "special treasure." I did this by juggling three balls to show that I could hold my own in any potential entertainer-vs.-parent battles. He said that his son is also a juggler, and they sometimes perform in Amsterdam, so I felt that was enough to leave them alone for a little while at least.

We slept like crap, possibly because we were so far down as to qualify as ballast in case the ship was riding too low in the water. I tried to determine whether we were under water, and I'm guessing that we were not. We were on deck 2, with just 1, engine room, bilge, and Davey Jones levels below us. I don't know, is it legal to have passengers below water level on a ferry?

When we got to Amsterdam, we dropped the bags at the hotel office, and went to get some lunch. We ended up buying the canal boat tickets for the day, up to noon the following day. When we got back to the office, the bitch who cheated me manager told us that our houseboat was unavailable! What the frickin' frick?! After some discussions, we ended up taking a 2-bedroom apartment for 200 euros a night. Not what we wanted, but who wants to go traipsing around Amsterdam with 5 people looking for rooms at 5:00 in the afternoon. Make that 17.00. Well, she will be getting a horrible review from me on the travel site where I found the Amsterdam House.

Our standard operating procedure in Amsterdam was to walk for an hour, then eat for an hour. Repeat until overcome by sleep. We took it pretty easy, as I only dragged the family through one museum. My wife was quite taken with the architecture in the city center, and also by the cafe lifestyle. I met her shortly after arriving back in the U.S. from having lived in Amsterdam for the better part of a year, and I would throw in Dutch phrases here or there, and regale her with stories of sitting around drinking biertjes or coffees outside at one of the pleins. Now she understands how cool it really is. However, it was cheap back then. A small beer was maybe 2 or 3 guilders, and the dollar was worth 1.8 guilders. Nowadays, a small beer is 2 or 3 euros, and the euro is worth 1.6 dollars. According to a friend, when they switched to euros, everything went way up in price, as they just erased the ­ ­ ƒ symbol and replaced it with the € symbol. So that's almost a tripling of prices in 15 years. Maybe that's not a lot, but it seems like it to me.

I was disoriented somewhat, because my memories of exact street locations and orientation of the major pleins are faulty. I still have the basic shape of the city correctly mapped, as I used to study the map for dozens of minutes per week. I used to be one of these young people casually avoiding getting run down by a bicyclist or taxi. But now, I'm just another tourist gawking at the buildings and people, and getting dinged at by said cyclists. I had the location of Rembrantplein right, but the British pub was in a corner rotated 90 degrees from where I remember it. It's very strange how memory can work. The school where I took Dutch classes now is missing the large set of stone steps that I remember on the outside of it (or maybe they were on the inside?)

My wife remarked about how good-looking everyone was, and I craftily told her I hadn't really noticed. She wants to go back, and I would not mind, as a starting point for a nice sabbatical in 2010. The funniest part of the trip was a small moment where I was in Leidseplein with my son, looking for a newsstand, and I wandered into the Bulldog, a famous coffeeshop. There were a couple of tables of potheads with fancy-looking marijuana ready to roll, and I quickly turned tail. Perhaps strangely to some, I didn't take a single puff, toke, or bong hit the entire time I lived in Amsterdam, although friends would regularly offer it. The Bulldog seemed to have moved to the other side of the plein, and I think the nearby McDonalds was in the same place, but turned into a Burger King.

On the last full day, we took the train to The Hague to meet a friend of my wife. We had some poffertjes, little pancakes with butter and sugar:



Here's what they looked like when complete:
I'm not too into the sugar, but the buttery goodness was irresistible. If you like both buttery and sugary goodness, then poffertjes are for you.

We walked right through the Dutch Parliament building's courtyard, with no security other than some anti-vehicle posts and some video cameras. That is in stark contrast to the metal-detector/buffer zones around the U.S. Congress and White House.

Then we did take the tram (which I mistakenly omitted from my previous post) to Madurodam, which is a miniature city covering a couple of acres, and comprising many famous buildings from many Dutch cities. At first I thought it was very lame, but as I wandered around, it kind of grew on me. The buildings are quite detailed, and there are so many of them. What is the mentality of a person who works on a miniature city? Do they stand in front of the real building for hours? Do they just work from pictures? Do they imagine themselves as small people standing in front of the small building? Does Elmo know? Does Dorothy know?

Maintenance

We got back from our European vacation on Saturday, and then immediately went into full blown activity mode. When you ignore items, the items rust and rot away, and then mushrooms and insects start to spontaneously generate thereupon, until, voilà, the roof is leaking, the front bumper of the car falls off during a downpour when the car is supposed to be picking up the kids at school, and you have 758 emails to delete. Maintenance is hard, though, so the fewer items you give yourself to maintain, the better off you are. That is why Phil Hellmuth is so good at No-Limit Holdem tournaments, and why NASCAR drivers can do a pit stop in 12 seconds. Focus is the key; multitasking is evil.

We had a great time in England and Holland for 9 days. We traveled by car, shuttle bus, airplane, car on the wrong side of the road, foot, ferry boat, bus, canal boat, and train. Strangely, we did not travel by tram or bicycle while we were in Amsterdam. We waited in many lines, and were usually last in line, since we had five people, three of whom were outside the first standard deviation for quickness.

First, we flew from Boston To Amsterdam, then changed planes, and flew from Amsterdam to Manchester. It took us quite a while to get through immigration and customs, because of the aforementioned outliers. Then, it took us a while to get our car, then we had to get some food and try to find a bathroom in the under construction terminal. Finally, we hit the (wrong side of the) road, and 242 rotaries later, we arrived at Studley Royal, which is a deer park near Fountain's Abbey in Yorkshire. We stayed in the Chorister's House:




The deer were all over the place, as were the giant old trees, several of which had fallen. It's not a forest, but more of a field with big trees scattered about. They leave the fallen trees as part of the "ecosystem", but the smaller trees have fences around them, presumably to prevent the deer from destroying them. Here's a pic of the largest diameter tree near the house:



That's my ten-year-old son standing in front of the tree, so as you can see, one of the pieces that had fallen was about four feet in diameter, and the main trunk was probably ten feet in diameter.

We had a couple of days of parties, including a trip to the nearby Lightwater Valley amusement park, which boasts the longest roller coaster in Europe, or maybe the longest wooden one in the world -- something like that. The kids did great, with my son going on everything that I did, and my daughter trying many more rides than I thought she would.

Then we had the big event, Magdalen's wedding. You can see her recap and photos at her blog. It was a beautiful day, the first since we had arrived, sunny and warm. After a nice short ceremony, we went down to the foyer of the Fountain's Hall and had a Pimm's cup, which was quite good. My wife brought home a bottle last time she went, so we'll have to serve that on nice hot summer days here in New England. We wandered around the ruins of Fountain's Abbey, which is very impressive:



I think I'll just stop here, and write another post about Amsterdam.

Counting down

We're headed to England and Holland in a few days, so the weekend was spent in a mad scramble to get things done before we leave. We're going to Magdalen's wedding in Yorkshire, at Fountain's Abbey, staying in the Corrister's House in Studley Royal. The bachelor party will be at an amusement park, so probably no strippers, though you never know. At the same time, for the ladies, there will be a tea party. My daughter has her choice between the two, and she says it is a very hard choice. Maybe for you it is, kid, but my decision is made. It's not that the rides and midway games are calling me, but more that I don't really like tea. :-) I can't wait to experience carny shock -- that feeling of knowing you are being completely ripped off as you pay $5 to throw 3 dull darts at Hoppity-Hop-thickness balloons in a vain attempt to win a plastic lei -- except this time, in pounds sterling. I'm not sure my aging heart will be able to handle it, when I multiply everything by 2.

After the wedding, we take a ferry from Newcastle-Upon-Tyne to Amsterdam's ferry terminal, from which we take a bus to Centraal Station. We will stay on a houseboat for a few days -- the price seemed reasonable when expressed in Euros, but yikes! We will be looking at museums and historical places, and taking a side trip to The Hague, where we will visit with the wife of a war crimes tribunal lawyer. I will probably not get to play any PLO against the Europeans while I am there, and that is very likely a good thing for me. Who knows what could happen to my pathetic US dollar-denominated "bancake" if I tried to puff it up to meet the buy-in for a 1/2 Euro game.

I will also miss playing in a bunch of blogger tournaments, such as the Riverchasers on Thursday, Kat's Donkament on Friday, and the Skills game on Tuesday. There is no way I'm bringing a computer with me on this trip -- what would the point be? OK, I suppose to write about my wonderful experiences. But doesn't that detract from the experience sometimes? I think so. We're not even bringing the better camera, because it's too big. I'm still not so sure about that decision, but I guess the little Canon does OK, and it has the wide-angle lens. I looked into posting photos or text from my cell phone, but, I have a lame cell phone, so no dice. In fact, it won't even work over there, so we are renting cell phones from Verizon Wireless for free*. We pay a per-minute charge of $0.99-1.29, but no rental fee, and no shipping charges. Of course, the battery in our doorbell pick this morning to die, so I haven't got my hands on the phones yet...

Well, in any case, no posts until I get back, and then I will have a few up my sleeve.

:wq

Red light district

I've been thinking about whores a lot lately. We're going to Amsterdam, so we may catch a glimpse of a real-life prostitute. We'll be staying less than 1/2 a mile from the Heineken Brouwerij, so we may just "get lost" on the way back to the houseboat. Of course, I would never go there on purpose. Or would I? I just may be in the window myself, as I accept money for acts that I would not otherwise do in my full time job. Nothing illegal or unseemly, mind you, but the mere fact that I toil under the yoke of a corporate master makes me a whore.

Let me think about the non-whores in my life: my wife, who several years ago quit her day job to buy a needlework business (previously her hobby, and something she loves); my mother, who retired and now is able to do her art full time; my mother-in-law, who retired, and now volunteers for the ACLU; my sister, who quit her day job, and does lots of crafty stuff now; my sister-in-law, who took a retirement package and now is a freelancer. All of them do what they love for zero through quite a bit of money, money that does not have to be split with a pimp. And I am turning tricks for the man, turning wave after wave of brain activity into cold hard cash for the shareholders.

Don't get me wrong; I am a high-paid hooker, but, to paraphrase that famous someone who once said to the Duchess of something, we've established what you are sir, now we just have to establish the price.

There is a bonus currently available on PokerStars, and so now the low-limit tables are full of bonus-whoring rocks. The tables went from fairly loose to very tight in one day. So, I will make the deposit on the last day before we go to Amsterdam, and wait until the sharks have disappeared before I work on my low-priced tricks.

My cash game win streak continued after leaving Vegas, as I was up each day until the streak finally broke on Tuesday. I'm starting a new streak, though, on Full Tilt, while I wait for the blood on Poker Stars to dissipate.

:wq

Fool in Vegas

Synopsis:

A quick trip to Vegas to play poker. I played a lot of poker.

By the numbers:

Door-to-door round trip time: 62 hours
Poker time: 26 hours
Total air travel-related time: 20 hours
Total non-airplane sleep: 10 hours


This trip really started in October of 2006, when my then-boss' boss needed a booth bimbo for a conference in Vegas. I volunteered, and because of that trip, earned
enough frequent flyer points for a free ticket. I delayed using the ticket until it was ready to expire, and even tried to give it away to several family members, to no avail. Like the island in 'Lost', Vegas was pulling me back, and nothing would stand in the way of its magnetic powers. Vegas was circling for the kill as I booked a two nights for the price of one room at the Palms, right in the mouth of the shark. I was determined to feed off the shark as a remora does, rather than be chomped by it, as a porpoise is. In and out for a quick bite of no-limit hold 'em cash games, plus a tournament, with no extra-curricular activities, drinking binges, blackjack or roulette.

It was a challenge to myself to see if I can handle playing against real poker players in no-limit games. I've only played live no-limit cash games on a small cruise ship, against some pretty bad players. Vegas would be completely different, as the wise guys, wanna-be pros, and other serious players mix with the online players and the occasional tourist. Why do I want to challenge myself like this? I guess I would like to be able to walk into any poker room, live or online, sit down, and have a better than average chance of winning money. To do that, I will have to play against players that are better than I, and learn how they do it.

I planned to play only 1/2 no-limit, and a tournament at Caesar's. I was also going to play it by ear when I arrived at the Palms late Sunday night or early Monday morning Vegas time. It turned out I arrived at the Palms poker room just before 1 am on Monday, and there was a 2/5 no limit, and 2/4 and 4/8 limit games going. I passed on dropping my limited "bankroll" (more like a bankpancake) in a single hand to the crazy Palms players, and decided to play some low limit. I did OK against some drunk people and convention-goers, until a new player showed up and started straddling. The conventioneers had left, replaced by locals, and game became more loose and wild. I was getting into pots where the pot was so big that I was going to see the turn no matter what, and would then call down a turn and river bet with marginal hands, because the pots were so big. Argh. OK, so not a great start, but I did not lose too much.

The next day, I planned to head to Caesars' Palace to play in the 1:00 tournament, but first decided to fuel up at the Palms buffet. I really tried to eat well, and had a giant salad on several occasions, including this one. Unfortunately, the seating goddess decided to seat me facing a table where a young lady's "coin slot" was clearly visible. Unfortunate? Yes. For the coin slot in question was more properly a "Yap gap", to coin a term. I still managed to fill up on salad and prime rib, which was the best of a fairly unhealthy buffet.

I made it to Caesar's in plenty of time, only to find that the tournament was at noon. Damn no Internet existence. Why should I have to drag a laptop with me across the country just to check tournament times? It was bizarre being in a situation where I needed information, knew that it was right there, but could not access it. That happened several times throughout the trip. Maybe we will have to get those iPhones.

So I joined a 1/3 no limit game that started up shortly after I arrived, and signed up for the 3 o'clock tournament. An Asian woman sat down at the other end of the table, and started chatting with the other players. From her voice and from what I remembered of her picture, and from the fact that she covered up her right eye in order to see my remaining stack and a bill that I had in play, I knew I was sitting at the same table as BWoP. When I got home, I checked my facts, and it turns out I was wrong. I'm glad I didn't make any comments like, "Oh, you've got ace-jack, eh?" Or, "Are you CK?" This woman bought in for $100, and left with about $500 less than two hours later. Nice.

Meanwhile, the game was a lot of calling preflop raises 4-6 ways, and then checking around on the flop and turn. Also a lot of smallish bets into these inflated pots. I had no idea what I was doing, but managed to escape with just a minor loss after a suckout.

I played the tournament and ended up going out with a short stack with 66 against two other players, one with AJ, and one with AK. A jack came on the flop, and a king on the turn, and off I went to find the monorail. Except on the way to the monorail, I saw the sign for the Imperial Palace, and decided to check it out. I saw the almost famous Geisha Bar, and then found the poker room. I sat down in a loose 1/2 no limit game, and chatted with the guys at my end of the table. They told me that the old guys at the other end of the table would not lay down a hand, and so we discussed strategies for winning their chips. I figured the best way is to value bet with larger than normal bets. This strategy worked, but only after I lost a buy-in to one of the guys
at my end of the table, with a flopped set vs. a turned straight. Maybe I could have gotten away from the hand, but I didn't. Again at the last minute, I doubled up against one of the LOGs (Loose Old Guys). I started to rack up, as I was heading back to Caesar's Palace to play the 11:00 tournament, and the LOG said, "You're leaving?!" I said, yes, I'm going to play in the Caesar's 11:00 tournament, and the dealer backed me up as having asked for a rack and having said I was leaving at the blind. I was still racking up when I was playing my last hand -- AQ. After I hit the flop, and made bets on the flop and turn, I hit two pair on the river, but my opponent hit his flush, and I lost back a bunch of what I had just won. So once again, I left with a small loss. Maybe I should have stayed in that game, because the guy that I doubled up on
was pounding Coronas, and was definitely going on tilt.

In the Caesar's 11:00 tournament, after literally running across the street from the IP, I made the final table, and was hungry, so I ordered some food. There was talk of a chop, but a couple of guys wanted to play for a while. I made a questionable play with AT on the button after two early position limpers. There were about 3700 chips in the pot, and I had about twice that. One of the limpers was the chip leader, and called with 99. I guess I figured that I could steal, but my stack was not big enough to worry the chip leader. It was the curse of the food order, because I busted out before my food arrived. I was nice to the food lady, as she didn't have enough change.
Another guy who order under $10 worth of food paid with a $100 bill, so I changed it for her, and gave her exact plus tip for my bagel.

Which brings me to the health care tips portion of the trip report.

Tip #1: Do not touch your face.
Tip #2: Wash your hands with soap for longer than is normal, and scrub them.
Tip #3: Do not eat without washing your hands first, and do not eat any finger foods.
Tip #4: Especially, do not lick your fingers.

So, there I am with finger food, having just played at least an hour of poker with chips that have been through the fingers of every nose-picking, ass-scratching, finger-licking degenerate in town. What to do? I had a knife and fork, and flipped over the bagel and spread the cream cheese without touching either. Then I folded the large cloth napkin and grabbed the bagel in the napkin. It worked out pretty well, and I haven't come down with anything so far.

OK, so it was now 2:30 am, time to head back to the Palms and have a few beers while playing some more 2/4 limit. This time there was a family and friends table, and I got seated between the friend and the wife. The wife was recovering from throat surgery, smoking cigarettes, ordering rasberry kamikazes, chicken wings, salads, and strawberry daiquiris. This was after the three of them lost $3000 at the Mirage. With that kind of gambler at the table, sitting down so they don't lose as much money, I figured I was good in this game. And I was. As in most of the games I played, I was very tight, and expected to get paid off with my good hands. Almost everyone was in almost every hand, and I just kept folding. I did hit some good hands, and left at around 5:30 to get some sleep. I think that was my first winning session ever in Vegas.

The next day was my last, so I had to check out and leave my bag at the Palms. I followed my previous plan to go to the Luxor, and sat at the wise guy end of the 1/2 no-limit table. I may have played a little too tight, but I did get paid off on at least one big hand by a bad player. After that, I slowly dwindled down, losing a coin flip to a short stack for a small chunk, and eventually leaving with a small win for my second straight winning session. I found myself unable to concentrate by the last couple of hours. I was also paranoid that the wise guys were playing me, and I was probably justified. They could probably see exactly what I held each time I was in a pot, just as if my cards were face up. I wanted to avoid a confrontation with them if at all possible. One guy with sunglasses hanging out of his ears was gunning for one of the wise guys, because of a suckout or two, and of course sunglasses guy overplayed a marginal hand when the wise guy held a monster, and left steaming.

It's funny how there is almost always a tribal atmosphere at each end of a poker table. "Our end," "down here," sit all of the solid thinking players. "Down there," at "that end," sit all of the loose idiot donkeys. Mostly I just listen and nod when my end complains about the other end, gathering information for potential internecine warfare. I give away too much information myself sometimes, however, getting caught up in the cameraderie. That was definitely the case at the Imperial Palace, where as soon as I arrived at the table, I was informed of the LOGs at the other end of the table. So I offered my opinion about how to play them (no bluffing or even semi-bluffing, bet larger than normal with good hands, lay it down if they raise, unless you have a monster.) Too much information! I should just nod and agree sympathetically.

After two days of CAGs, HAGs, LAGs and LOGs, I made my way to the airport, only to find that my flight was delayed over an hour, due to strong headwinds. So I stopped in at the ridiculous Budweiser/NASCAR bar, and bought a giant beer and a whiskey, and whipped out my library book: 'Why We're Liberals," by Eric Alterman. I even took a picture on my cell phone, but I'm too lame to figure out how to Bluetooth it to somewhere for upload. The incongruity was amusing to my beer-addled brain. When we got on the plan, I found I had a whole row to myself! I figured all planes leaving Las Vegas are less full than those arriving, but I never dared dream that I would have three whole seats to myself. As soon as we took off, I immediately lay down and buckled the middle seat belt, so noone could try to weasel their way into "my" window seat. I slept straight through the very short (due to the tailwinds) flight -- jackpot!