Fish Where The Hell I Am

This weekend, I played three tournaments in Atlantic City at Harrah's, mostly because I was there for a previous plan that fell through. It's the fifth time I've ever been at a casino, and the fourth time I've left with less money. It's also, quite possibly, the last time, but part of that will be up to the casino. I'll explain.

The Friday morning tournament was a "Turbo" bounty deal, where the blinds raise every 15 minutes and you get $10 for every player you eliminate. That went well for several hours, as I got cards, made a few successful bluffs, and knocked out four players to mitigate my $70 buy-in. With 12 players left, I slow-played aces against a flop of undercards, two of them hearts. I went all-in and took it down against the best player at the table... but had he gone in and lost, I'd have been the chip leader and crippled a very good player. When he laid it down, it wasn't a good feeling; I wondered if I should have made the continuation bet instead.

At the final table, I went card-dead for 30 hands against rising blinds and chip leaders that had 3 to 4 times my stack. With seven players left and as the third shortest stack, I made a misread of one of the more aggressive players, and went all-in with A-9 unsuited against his A-J. I could have gotten away from the hand but didn't, and Lo, That Sucked. I went to get myself lunch, frustrated as hell (5th was $110) that after being patient, I had to blow it all just before the finish line... but well, that's something you're going to do when you think that people are trying to steal before the bubble, and make a misread.

I then moved to the cash game with newfound patience... and treaded water for five hours. And at the high point of those five hours, I was up $50 and reconsidering a second job as a dealer, since they were making more per hour than I was. The highlight was a well-executed trap with trip fours to double up. In the last hour, after getting bullied by bigger stacks on a few middle pair draws, I caught high pair and got called by suited low connectors that would up catching runner-runner for two pair, costing me the last of my $100 buy-in. I took a break to try to clear my head from the sudden downturn, as well as to go fume about the donkey call, and came back in time for the 8:15 tournament, a $120 buy-in.

A quick word for anyone thinking about playing the 8:15 Friday night tournament at Harrah's: don't. Not unless you enjoy the ambiance of bad '80s karaoke / diva group work from the nightclub that's parked next door and open for feedbackish business. Despite the less than optimal conditions, I was up about 4K chips in the first session, and feeling good about life, having just cashed in on my tight table image... when the powers-that-be decided that I needed to move. The next table was with the lone really bad dealer I ran into over the weekend (he didn't speak very good or clear English, and I wound up butchering a bluff thanks to misreading the minimum bet and not understanding what the hell he was saying) and getting caught with 10's against Ks on a 7-8-9 rainbow flop that didn't improve on the turn or river.

Fifteen disastrous minutes later, I was short-stacked, on tilt, and moved to yet another table of people who didn't know me as playing tight. I was also out of time to do anything but go all-in on a draw that got called and missed. I'm pretty sure I'd have lost this tournament on my own under the best of conditions, but really, until they fix the sound issue for the night game, you've got better places to spend your tournament dollar. I took the rest of the night off.

The next day, I had some time to kill before the last tournament I was going to play. Not wanting to expose myself to losing too much more, I bought into a cash game for the $60 minimum, and was at half of my original stack when I got J-Q suited. The flop came back with the 10 and 9 suited, and I got called on the all-in monster draw bet. The turn was the 8, and hey presto, lookie at that, the very first straight flush of my life, which made me a whopping $30 after the dealer tip. The game stopped for the pit boss to swipe my card for the possibility of a $200 comp (it'll happen unless someone else pulls a higher straight flush today), and a half hour later, I cashed out and joined the $200 tournament.

There's really nothing like playing badly, having bad luck, and playing against people who are better than you for that magical combination of despair. With 2-8 suited in the unraised big blind, I flopped the flush. Not wanting to get nothing for it against a table full of checks, I bet $500 and got two callers. The turn was innocuous, and I threw another $1500 at it and lost no one. And then, on the river, the last heart, and the guy with the ace of hearts bet the pot and took it down. Clearly, I could have gone harder on the turn and been satisfied with the pot, but frankly, I felt like I was wearing my hole cards on my face at this table. Every marginal hand that was called was raised, every strong hand that I called was folded, and when I finally went all-in on a draw for the last third of my original stack, I was dominated.

After some twelve hours at the tables over a 24-hour period, it's pretty clear to me that I'm just not good enough to play unless I'm getting great cards, and probably not even then. Considering that the weekend was meant to spent in the company of poker-playing friends, none of whom could make it, the continued survival of my monthly game (the one where I'm down over $200 for this year) is also in jeopardy. There's only so long where you can be a fish, and hate yourself for being a fish.

And yes, if my straight flush comp holds up, I'll be back to try again in the turbo tournaments, because I'm just that much stupid. (Ed. Note: Someone else had a royal flush, so I'm off the hook. Phew.)