The Weak Chips

I was supposed to have a hot date tonight, but she bailed so instead I get to write about poker.  Hooray.

From a purely $EV standpoint, this is a solid development as I don't have to waste money on food/drinks, but obviously given the choice I wouldn't be alone, feverishly typing away.  I'd happily sacrifice the small $EV for an undisclosed amount of Happiness EV (hEV), a concept that quite frankly deserves its own entry.  It's obviously applies to real life situations, but actually can impact some of the decisions made on the felt.  

Unfortunately this entry doesn't have anything to do with the introduction so I'll quickly move on and make a mental note to blog about 'Happiness EV' sometime. 

Months ago, I was playing Limit Hold'em with a friend of mine and having a brutal session.  The story is always the same -- suckouts, bad beats, coolers, blah, blah, blah.  I was stuck a few racks but forced a smile as I asked the chip-runner for more ammunition.  She came back, arranged the chips in front of me, wished me good luck and then watched in horror as I mashed all the chips together in one pile. 

 Why?  Because those were weak chips. 

I do many things to amuse myself at the poker table, and weak chips/strong chips is one of my favorite pastimes.  Whenever I'm running bad, I feel that the remaining chips in front of me are weak.  They simply cannot win pots.  And if they cannot win pots, they do not deserve to be stacked.  Instead, they reside in a big pile. 

It almost looks like I've just won a huge pot and several times players who had just sat down make such a remark.  I quickly correct them, and attempt to teach them about weak chips/strong chips.  Most nod politely, but some look at me as if I was completely insane.  Mind you, they're the ones who keep changing seats, asking for new decks, and blaming 'bad' dealers for their unlucky run of cards.  And I'm the crazy one?  I'm merely doing this to entertain myself, but I suppose finding so much enjoyment in such a 'tactic' might be enough reason to prescribe me a straightjacket. 

Question: How do weak chips become strong chips?
Answer: Winning pots.

It's simple, really.  I use the pile of weak chips and its those chips that cross the front (betting) lines.  If/when I win a pot, I scoop the pot and stack the chips involved in my victory.  Those chips have went to battle, returned victorious and therefore, deserve the honor of being stacked.  Plus, this allows the remaining weak chips to look over at their strong-chip brethren and have something to aspire to.  Eventually all of the weak chips have earned their stripes and are stacked, twenty chips high. 

Strong chips, I salute you.

The Birds

I hear birds chirping, which means it's probably time for me to go to bed. 

If this post would have been made three months ago, it'd likely mean I stayed up all night grinding.  Now, it means that I simply couldn't sleep and spent the last few hours watching SportsCenter (Not SportsCentre, Canada), playing Madden, and hitting the gym.  Yes, it was a good night.

I use the word 'grind' rather often in this blog, in fact if I had to venture a guess it'd be in the top five poker-related terms.  And while I used to refer to a long online session as a grind, I'm starting to think that it wasn't the right word.  Because if playing online poker is a grind, than playing live poker is like actually being grinded up into little tiny pieces. 

A few years back, a friend of mine was making his living in Vegas, playing no-limit cash games.  While we were both professional poker players, our feelings about the game/our jobs were incredibly different.  I loved mine, he hated his.  He tried to explain and said something like,

You see the same people almost every day.  The same regs.  I hate those regs.  They try to talk to me, be my friend, ask to check it down/chop and I'm like, bro (He uses bro a lot) I'm not your friend, I'm here to make money.  If we're friends all it does is make my job harder.

I nodded and said, yeah, but what about the randoms?

They want to talk too.  I don't want to make small-talk with them.  Oh you're from where?  Interesting.  My friend's brother's cousin's gardener took a trip there one time.

I didn't understand.  I loved playing live cash and didn't mind the table chatter.  I'm pretty talkative myself and don't mind it.  Granted, it's not as much fun when you're stuck but I can still be affable, professional, and courteous.  That was me, then.  Now?

Ugh.  I rarely want to play live.  Well, that's not entirely true -- the idea of playing live always sounds appealing to me until I've been at the table for 3-5 minutes and then I tend to regret my decision.  It'd make more sense if I had played a lot over the last two months but honestly, I've put in mayyyyyybe 60 hours.  Admittedly, the downswing I'm in might have a little something to do with my current feelings towards live poker.  When I'm up a fair amount, live poker isn't that bad -- I can happily converse with the other players, feign disgust/empathy when someone gets a bad beat, and smile politely when I'm on the end of a cooler.  But the moment I'm stuck, there's a switch in my head that gets flipped.  At that point I'm still calm and friendly on the outside, but on the inside I'm cursing to myself.

Why'd I even come here?  I should have went to the gym.  Or made dinner at home.  Instead I chose to come here and now I'm down "x amount" against these monkeys.  This sucks.  I hate poker. 

It's funny, I don't ever remember thinking 'I hate poker' when I played online.  Not even during the most brutal downswings.  Not sure exactly why there's such a difference between my live/online mentality -- maybe it's because I can see the shit-eating grin on an opponent's face after he rakes a big pot from me, a pot full of chips/money that used to be mine.  Yeah, that could be it.  I'm titled just thinking about it, haha.

 

The Hitman

Last week I went to a "mixer" organized by my apartment complex, more specifically the lovely woman named Michele who works at the concierge desk.  I hadn't met many people from my building and thought it'd be a good opportunity to mingle amongst fellow tenants and have a few cheap drinks. 

When I arrived, Michele greeted me and said that everyone had to fill out a name-tag with not only your name, but an interesting fact about yourself.  Uh oh.  To the outside world, the most interesting thing about me is my profession.  I suppose I could say "living abroad" but inevitably that leads someone to ask "Why did you move out of the country" and the answer is "my profession."  I racked my brain trying to come up with something else to talk about but ultimately caved in. Sort of.

I refused to write "I play poker for a living."  No.  Wouldn't do it.  I've met fellow poker players before who led with such a line and all I could think about was how much of a self-important toolbox they were.  I instead went with a more subtle, humorous approach although I'm not sure if it worked.

I had brought two friends (Nick and Hank) to the mixer and Hank openly mocked my name-tag.  "Never had a real job?" he smirked.  "That'll definitely impress the ladies here."  Whoops.  He made a good point, but it was too late -- I had already slapped the tag on my chest and ordered a beer.  At this point I suppose we could have started mingling but the crowd was a bit older and the couch looked mighty comfortable.  So instead, the three of us sat and chatted with each other for a while, waiting for someone to approach us.  And eventually, someone did.

Alas, it was not a woman, but I didn't expect it to be one unless she was illiterate.  A man appearing to be in his late twenties/early thirties introduced himself and sat down.  Afterward, the topic shifted to our respective nametags.  His said "I'm a Hoosier" and we proceeded to talk about his time spent at Indiana.  Nick had written "I'm from Calgary," a blatant lie.  I don't think he's ever stepped foot in Canada, to be honest, but he did it mostly because he couldn't think of anything on the spot and in small part to pay homage to Bret 'The Hitman' Hart.  When asked about his time in Calgary, Nick quickly admitted he'd actually been born and raised in Sacramento, detailing his experiences (places to go, things to do, etc) in the city.  Hank had written about living in Switzerland, which was actually true -- and honestly significantly more interesting than Sacramento.  Sorry Nick.  After Hank was down explaining why he moved and how much he enjoyed his time there, the attention turned to me.

"So you've never had a real job, huh?"

When I wrote down "Never had a real job," I knew this would happen.  I knew I'd have to explain what I do, how I got into it, and answer all of the poker-related questions the interrogator would have for me. 

Thankfully, I've done this before -- over the last few years, I've gotten used to explaining my situation to friends, family, and complete strangers.  This wasn't even one of the more difficult situations -- Imagine the horror of trying to explain it to a drunk girl in a loud bar.  It's hard enough to even hear her name, how will she understand the intricacies of hold'em?  Spoiler: She won't.

I smiled, took a deep breath, and began.  I talked about how I play poker for a living, primarily online, and done it for the better part of the past five years.  I talked about my parents' initial fear when I deposited money online, their hesitation when I quit law school, and their support I have today.  I talked about the best parts -- the freedom, the intellectual stimulation, the working-at-home-in-your-underwear.  And I talked about the worst parts -- the isolation, stress, and being forced to relocate. 

That speech...although I've delivered it countless times, it never fails; once I reach the end, I've fallen in love again with what I do.  There's this sheepish grin on my face, a look that says "I don't know how I got here but I'm happy I did." 

The Pouch

Be warned, I'm not used to this new editing/layout tool that this site has forced upon me so my entries might appear poorly formatted until I figure it out. So far I don't like it but I've always been one who chooses comfort over change, which is a perfect transition to the main point of this entry:

A few months ago, the plan was to come back to Sacramento/America for 2-3 months and move to Thailand with N0BigDeal in July.  But plans change.  First we pushed back our departure date a month.  Then we pushed it back another month.  And now it appears that Ben might not be going to Thailand at all.  At the moment he's a bit burnt out with poker and at the very least wants to take an extended break, see friends/family back home, etc.


I really can't blame the guy, as that's how I spent the better part of the past two months.  And I'm thankful that he didn't spring this on me at the last minute, as I have several months to figure out my travel plans.  Am I opposed to going to Thailand?  Well, no, but it does have much less appeal than before.  While the rent in Thailand remains dirt cheap, setting everything up on my own sounds like a daunting task considering the language barrier.  Now Ben doesn't speak Thai any better than I do, but at least I'd have a partner in crime so to speak.  Actually, I should probably research whether or not poker is legal as that there might be more truth in that statement than I initially intended.  I do happen to know a few grinders who currently reside in Thailand but I haven't met any of them in person.  And if (when) I were to go to a foreign land, I'd prefer it to be one where I speak the language.  Obviously, that narrows down the list quite a bit.

I do happen to have four years of high school Spanish under my belt so I'm not limited to English speaking countries, but I'm currently leaning towards one country in particular: Australia.

The biggest negative I've heard about Australia is that it's expensive, but I'm willing to pay a bit more for reliable internet, social interaction, and the beautiful weather.

How much to live in your pouch, Mr. Kangaroo?

After living in Vancouver I've grown accustomed to walking everywhere and I'd need to do that in Australia as I wouldn't bring my car with me, populous areas like Sydney or Melbourne seem like good places to be. 

I have no more grinder-friends in Australia than I do in Thailand -- in fact, I might have less -- but one advantage Australia has over Thailand is that I feel it'd be so much easier to meet/make new friends.  And it doesn't hurt that the "American accent" is swooned over, or so I've been told.

Nothing is set in stone and clearly, a lot can change in a few months.  While I have no idea where I'll be living in September, I'm excited about the potential adventures that lie ahead. 

The List

I worked today.

Normally when I tell people that, they might let out a wry smile or roll their eyes.

Worked?  C'mon.  You played poker.  That's not work. 

Well, today, I didn't play a single hand.  I coached.  It definitely counts as 'work.'

It's roughly two months since I moved back to the United States and in that time I've built up a rather large stable of clients.  A few only bought a single lesson but most invested in multi-hour packages and have weekly sessions on a somewhat regular basis meaning that for the first time in what seems like forever, I have a schedule.

It's still a bit lax (I'm almost never awake before 11 AM) and subject to change, but Tuesday-Friday my days are filled with clients from noon to five.  And Mondays?  I finally get to 'have a case of those' as it's become my busiest day.  Today I worked with eight different clients for roughly an hour each.  Eight.  Just re-reading that sentence makes me exhausted.

While days like today appear daunting (at least to me) on paper, I still enjoy it on an individual basis.  All of my clients are different, each with their own strengths/weaknesses and I love trying to diagnose possible leaks in their respective games and offer remedies that will turn them into better players.  And having clients in several different types of SNGs (9s, 18s, 45s, 180s) helps keep me and my game sharp so that there won't be any 'ring rust' when I get back to the e-felt. 

Do I feel the itch?  Not often.  Being able to play live whenever I want helps suppress the urge.  It does happen, however, whenever I participate in a 'live sweat' with one of my clients.  I'll sit there, nervously watching them play a hand and yearn to be clicking the buttons myself.  Last week during one of those sessions my client managed to get deep in a 180-man tournament and found himself in a coin flip situation.  He nonchalantly turned his attention to the other table and started explaining his thought process but I couldn't help but focus on the flip.  Hooooooooold!  Hooooooooold!  I was more nervous/excited than he was, haha.  It's a good thing I've got a 'live sweat' scheduled for tomorrow as writing this paragraph has got me all riled up. 

The Doppelgänger

Doppelgänger: In modern vernacular, the word has come to refer to any double or look-alike of a person.

When I play live poker, I tend to talk. A lot. Even more than I do away from the table, which is something my close friends might find hard to believe. There's definitely a strategic element to it, but that said I do typically enjoy making friendly conversation and being personable. Recently, I've found myself talking with people who are convinced I look like a celebrity. Awesome, right? Well, kind of. Obviously it depends on the celebrity and, well, the person who believes I look like them.

For instance, a few months back a woman at the table told me I looked like Tom Cruise. That's a compliment, I suppose, if she meant young Tom Cruise who was once named 'Sexiest Man Alive.' However, I feel like there's not that much of a comparison. Yes, I'm white, in decent shape, and had short/medium length brown hair but the rest of our features are pretty different. Plus, she was Asian and I don't mean this to be a negative thing, but from what I've gathered people are poor at judging who/what others outside of their own race look like. I'll let you decide.


In her defense, both of us are wearing black


THAT'S RIGHT I AM DANGEROUS ICE....MAN

Recently, it's gotten worse. Last week I was told I looked like "Keano [sic] Reeves." The mere fact that he didn't know his name makes me question the validity of it. Again, I'm unsure if he means past or present day "Keano" so I tried to find a picture that was semi close to one of mine. Even though I might act like Theodore Logan, I don't see it.



Last week reached an all-time low. I hadn't cut my hair for quite a while and refused to give in to the social pressure. But when a drunken player compared me to Justin Long, I knew it was time to make an appointment. To make matters worse, he specifically picked out this picture.


My hair is not nearly long enough IMO

On the heels of that, I got my haircut last week. When I returned to the casino with the new 'do,' one of the severs came over to me to tell me how nice I looked. Awesome. The cynic in me says that she's just buttering me up for a future tip, but I'm doing my best to suppress that thought and enjoy the compliment. So who do I look like now?








































A Walrus. Duh.

The Shape

As I start my second month in the United States, I feel my life is starting to round out into shape, both personally and professionally.

Professionally, I have:
- Created a 'stable' of clients and am coaching 10+ hours a week
- 15+ videos 'in construction' for PokerVT, which basically means all that's left for me to do is hit the record button and start talking
- Budgeted 20-25 hours a week to play live poker, enough to keep me entertained but not make it a grind

Personally, I have:
- Set up my new place
- Spent the majority of my free time hanging out with old friends and making new ones
- Developed a semi-regular gym routine

Ahh, balance. It's something new and different and exciting and, well, I like it. The other day I did nothing except eat, play poker, hang out with friends, hit at the batting cages, and shoot hoops. This is the life I envisioned for myself when I was nine.


Damn, I forgot to mini-golf. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow.

I don't want to be too results oriented about the poker side of things, but I definitely need to run a bit better live. It's so much easier for me to get frustrated in live games because I'm used to seeing more hands per hour which makes the short-term variance not last as long. In addition, I'm suddenly lacking an outlet to express myself. I used to be able to yell/curse at my computer screen but that sort of behavior in public isn't exactly proper etiquette. Instead, I now resort to using my imagination, where I see myself either celebrating with a mini fist-pump or using that fist to knock over my opponent's chips and pummel him repeatedly.

Of course, live results wouldn't matter nearly as much if I managed to get on the 'video-making-grind,' something I plan on doing in April. I only made one in March, so it's not a stretch to think I can quintuple my volume.