I flopped the nuts!

I distinctly remember having lost $200 already into online poker, and reaching for another $100, thinking… "man, if this doesn’t go right, I’m going to have to stop completely."

It was around that time that I started realizing that post-flop bets are made in fractions of the pot, not table minimums or multiples of that.  Betting more when I had the best of it (and realizing that I should get out when I likely didn’t) made my play suddenly, unquestionably profitable.  I went on a tear with tournaments, experimented with cash tables, and built that $100 up to $250.

I was just barely profitable, but when you consider the rake, that’s not bad.  I didn’t look back when there was a chance to redeposit for a bonus, but when I did that, I started an Excel sheet with my deposits, balances, and winnings.  When you play even-money poker, bonuses aren’t sucker bait.  (That is, unless you play differenly when you’re burning off a bonus, which always seemed to happen to me.)  They’re a valuable way to build your bankroll.

I took some money out of Poker Stars and moved it to Party, and played the cash tables there.  With a decent bankroll, the play there is pretty attractive.  (As I’ve mentioned earlier, a $25-max NL table is a dangerous place to learn cash games, but if you can absorb that loss occasionally, the water’s fine.)  With money in two accounts, it became imperative that I track my wins and losses, and soon I could see that, combining real-life with online play, I was profitable.  (Largely thanks to a real-life tourney I won, making up for the $75 or so I was behind in online-only play.)

But in two days, I’d covered that gap, and proceeded to cash out all but $100 of my original investment.  (Better to have $110 in there than $10… you know, risk of ruin.)

I turned that into $120, and went to a friend’s house for a couple of tournaments.  The first was okay, but the second offered rebuys.  I didn’t want to stay out that late.  People argued about the dumbest things imaginable.  Everyone was more drunk than I was.  And I lost money overall, while missing out on an evening with my family and a good night’s sleep. 

It kind of summed up the past six months.  I didn’t want to do it much anymore.  While I’ve felt this way every once in a while during my six-month poker career, I’d just made a nice deposit into my bank account, bought a new iPod, and started working on a new PC in the basement.  I was ahead, but for how long?  I was a consistent winner at the small tables, but I didn’t know how, and I wanted to read some more books.  Anytime I read a book, I start thinking about how much better I am for having read it, and I start testing my knowledge on the tables, applying fresh lessons in inappropriate situations, getting myself in trouble.  I didn’t want that inevitable dip (which always comes back, but still) eating into my tiny lifetime profit.

The Excel sheet started to bug me.  Since I was up $20 online, I was playing with a $20 bankroll, not $120 or $520.  I couldn’t take risks that would expose that "seed" money, and when you stop taking risks, you’re not playing poker at all.  I cashed out the $100, thinking that the $20 that was left would either be wasted, or the seed money for another run to the top.

It turns out that a naked $20 burns pretty fast, especially when I’m reading a new book.  Ha ha.

So I’m positive, lifetime, online and offline, and I’ve got pocket change (literally: Party doesn’t cash cents, only whole dollars) in a couple accounts, but this will be the first weekend I don’t play online (barring a frantic relapse and paying Neteller’s 8.9% on instant deposits) in about forever.

Basically, that $65 smash hit on Party ended up saving my bacon for August.  In tournaments I ended up $13 to the good, and in cash games, I posted the tiniest of profits.  (I lost a buy-in yesterday, when someone was making bets that were too small to chase away my nut flush draw, and a third guy was in there for unknown reasons.  River was my spade, so I pushed all-in, the initial aggressor folded, and the third guy called.  The turn, as it happens, was his fourth five, and I wasn’t afraid of the pair on the board, because who plays with fives?  Someone with two of them, is the answer.)

I’ve dabbled in heads up tournaments (5-5 so far, which means I’d be even if I wasn’t paying a fee), and started to play a little limit.  Limit’s sort of fun, just because you can play more hands, but it’s much more frustrating, because every set or nut straight gets outdrawn by some braying jackass with J5s.  Thing is, he’s getting odds for his calls, too.

I also want to note that the 45-player $1.00+.20 SnG (paying 7) is about 40% ITM for me, with a ROI of over 100%.  If I had all day to scrape by and collect pennies, that’s what I’d be doing.

I don’t spend a lot of time chatting with my opponents, especially when we’ve gotten to be heads up.  Heads up, you pretty much have to always be thinking, and I’m not even comfortable with the customary "gl" before the dealing starts.  (In a MTT, sure, "gl".  Good luck coming in second, I mean, since I’m going to win this, and there’s plenty of prize money for the rest of you.  Heads up, there’s one prize, and we’re both trying to get it, and there’s nothing nice about any of it.)

Anyway, it happened in a hand (as it sometimes does) that my opponent was seemingly making every move right before I would make, and answering every one of my moves with a careful call.  At the showdown, we both had K8o.  I’m getting kind of tired of this joke, but my opponent said "nh".  Like, yeah, we had the same hand!  Did you notice!  I like that hand!  So much that I, too, played it!

I meant to shrug it off with "huh" like, "oh, really?  That happens once in a while."  But when I typed "huh" it must have seemed like I was missing the joke, because he typed "I was joking".  And I knew that, but I just didn’t think it was funny.  I typed "ok" which basically summed up my feelings about the situation, and he answered with "wtf?"  WTF, indeed.

I beat him about ten minutes later, all-in preflop with A5 vs. A7.  I had him barely covered, and a five hit on the flop.  Classic.  That, apparently, made me a "pus sy", and worthy of the insult "u r garbage - really".  Some people.