I definitely will, thanks. Enjoy your trip up to TSR.

Were you at Casino del Sol last night by any chance?

nope. was there today tho. you?

I got stuck in Tucson yesterday due to company coming over in the afternoon so played at CSD last night. There was one new person I'd never seen who looked more alert at the table than the average CSD reg - thought it might you.
As usual in recent months no mid stakes games but there was one decent 1-2-4 on the button table that I was lucky enough to get seated in.

glad you got in a decent-sized game. I won't be playing this week, then I'll be back in Vegas next weekend. I'll send you a pm when I return.

Casino Del Sol

Stopped by this afternoon for some poker and football. I've played here a dozen or so times before and have had some success here + the people are friendly, so I figured I'd put in a short session.

Game today was ok given the 200 cap buyin and shortstackers. I made a big mistake in a multiway pot (hand two).

Hand one

haven't played a hand, the table is a mix of full stacks and half-stacks. UTG loose/passive Asian straddles ($175), UTG limps, I ($200) raise AQ to 20, only the straddler calls.

Flop T74 ($48), c, hero bets $30, straddler takes a long time and calls.

Turn 3, check/check

River K, check/check he flips ATo.

I don't like barreling the turn but a $50 river bet might be correct to fold out 7x, 88, 99, Tx. Tough to say whether he folds exactly AT.

Hand Two

$80 stack limps from the cutoff, whale (covers everyone) limps button, hero ($250) completes 89 from the sb, BB checks.

Flop TJQ ($8), hero leads 10, BB folds, CO and button call.

Turn: 4 ($38) hero bets $25, CO and button call.

River 6 ($112) hero bets $30, CO instashoves all-in for $19 more, Button folds.

This is such a silly spot, I never think I'm good here so I fold, CO proudly shows QJ. Posting this not just so you can berate me for my play (please do), but as a reminder of the lol live spazz factor. I'm trying make an exploitative fold in this spot but pot odds dictate that I should call, end of story.

I also saw a guy (hadn't been involved for an hour) raise flop lead, raise turn lead, raise river lead with 33 on J9448 board. The other guy, the original raiser, folded a flush. People are capable of random ****.

On the bright side I won $50 from the Sunday football promotion

I think checking back the flop is a better line in Hand 1. Too much of this players range hits this board and even if he did miss, you have the best hand anyway which you can get to showdown with easily IP or can dominate any of his Ax and Qx if you hit the turn.

lol at H2 and H3

What are your plans for Tuscon this week if you won't be playing any poker?
.

Makes sense. I decided to bet the flop in hand one because my image is tight (hadn't played a hand), villain had already call/folded a few flops, we can get value from draws that will c/c, we prevent him from betting us off the best hand on the turn. But this line creates a crappy spot if he does call, which he did, as spr is now like 1.25 to 1 and I have Ace hi.

how are you playing hand 2? I like lead/folding for value on two streets, not sure if three streets is too thin.

Writing. I've been working on a long essay (nonpoker-related) for a long time, and I'm close to a full draft. Need to finish before I head to Vegas next week.

You just grinding Phoenix for the time being?

H2 I like b/f all the way down unless none of the draws get there which then you can then b/c obv

Ya I'll just be grinding phx.

What's the essay about and will you be posting it anywhere?

It's about a bipolar guy who's been in and out of jail/homelessness for the last thirty years. I met him about a year ago and was fascinated by his story--he's been through a lot. At thirty he was married, in grad school, and working at a psych hospital. A few years after that he was an absent father, drug addict, and a criminal (He's sixty-two now). His life is interesting given the recent convo in your thread about luck/skill: to what extent any of us really do anything to deserve being a "successful" linguistics professor or a "failed" homeless addict.

More broadly, it also has to do with how Houston/Texas has treated, or failed to treat, people with mental illness.

It will definitely be published somewhere and I'll be happy to share it, if you have any interest. My goal is to publish it in a decent magazine that has a good readership (the ideal place would be something like Texas Monthly, but that would be hitting a homerun).

Yes I definitely want to read that

If you don't post it here, whenever you do finish send me a link

sweet Bob, that sounds like an interesting project, I will also be interested in reading it.

Will do, guys.

Here's a link to a good story that I just read. It won the Pulitzer Prize for feature reporting a few years back. The piece is oddly gripping in a way that I haven't experienced in a while. People often say "I couldn't stop reading!" when they like something. Well, I can usually stop reading. But not this time.

http://www.press.uchicago.edu/books/hart/Hallman1.html

Spewville

Been trying to stay in the poker rhythm, so I've hopped back on the play money tables. As I mentioned before, the games are a weird hybrid between the live and online worlds. Played four hands that may or may not have been spewy.

Hand One

Reads

button ($100) has full stacks at 4-5 tables and has been playing tight. I haven't seen him before. My best guess is that he used to be a micro stakes grinder who's dabbling in the play money scene

Hero (covers): we have no history, I just sat down.

hero raises from the CO with AK $3, villain 3! to $10, hero 4! to 27, CO tanks and flats.

flop 943 ($57). hero checks, villain bets $18, hero shoves. Villain

Hand Two

Reads

Button ($100) active, got caught bluffing once, I haven't seen anything else

Hero (covers) just sat down.

Hero raises 56 to $3, villain calls OTB, the blinds fold

Flop QQ3 ($9), hero bet 5.55, villain raises to 14, hero raises to 24, villain calls.

Turn: 8hero bets 25.55, villain shoves, hero calls.



Hand Three

Reads

Villain ($125): tight/cautious, playing 4-5 tables.

Hero (covers): active, has reraised villain three times in the last orbit or so, causing villain to say something in chat.

Villain raises to $4 from the SB, Hero 3! to $12 with QQ, villain calls pretty quickly

Flop 983 ($24), c, hero bets 15, villain calls quickly.

Turn: 2 ($54) c, hero bets $25, villain calls quickly.

River : A($104) c, hero shoves, villain



Hand Four is a heads-up match that recently went 3-handed.

Reads

Villain ($100) has been very out of line, 3betting 30-40% of hands. Tricky/bad type who enjoys spewing.

Hero (covers) haven't played back vs. 3bets yet, opening most hands otb as I should be.

Hero raises 65 to $3, villain raises to $8 from the sb, hero calls.

Flop 975 ($18), villain bets $12, hero calls.

Turn 2 ($42), villain bets $18, hero shoves.

Villain

Vegas Redux, pt. 1

Flew up to Vegas to meet up with a friend who's about to start a new job and wanted to celebrate. We went to Craftsteak at the MGM, which I'd recommend to anyone who's in town looking for a good steak. On the pricier end.

Lots of poker was played. Our first session took place at the Bellagio where we saw Doyle, Huck Seed, Eli Elezra, and some others in Bobby's Room. Then we saw this guy:



That's right, the A's slugger himself graced the Bellagio. Hopefully his finger's doing better: http://www.cardplayer.com/poker-news...ing-poker-game

I spent most of the night watching my friend run up a big stack with continuous aggression and a 100% cbet rate. Jared's a good thinking player who could be probably be excellent if he put in the time and effort. His biggest leak, as he'd readily admit, is getting bored and spewing. Late in the night this hand happened:

Clueless donk ($300) opens to $15 UTG, Jared (covers all) flats, I flat with 67 and $300 behind, one other guy calls from BB.

Flop 589

Check, Jared bets $50, I raise to $125, fold to him and he calls.

Turn T ($230). He instantly moves all-in. I laugh and call. "You have any outs?" I ask. He chuckles and says no. "But I have a pair!"

Fortunately that little skirmish was our only real confrontation during the weekend. Our next adventure would happen on Fremont Street, at The Golden Nugget, against a perennially grizzled geezer by the name of Jerry.

more soon.

My name's Bob too. I'm in for the ride.

Holy **** this was a good read. Considering buying the book that spun off of the articles. Wonder how the kid wound up looking after the swelling went down.

from one Bob to another...good to you have you

Glad you liked the piece. I googled around a bit looking for an update. I guess they never did the follow-up surgery because of complications. Other than that, I'm not sure what happened. Let me know if you end up checking out the book.

Vegas Redux, pt. 2



After taking in the glorious debauchery of Fremont Street, we headed inside to the Golden Nugget for some pokering. I had been the one to pitch the old strip on this Saturday evening. "I've heard the games are good," I told Jared. "Uncapped 1/2 and bad players." I hadn't experienced the game firsthand, only hearing about it via the most reliable of sources--2+2 LDO!--and wondered if the games really were as juicy as advertised.

The GN's small poker room mirrored the dinginess of the casino: faded carpets, poor ventilation. Jared and I sat down at the same table--I was on his left again, although our battles were more or less over--and bought in for three hundred apiece. The table wasn't particularly deep except for an bald old man in the one seat who had about $600. Slouching in baggy clothing alongside his cane, the man wore a bitter expression on his haggard face, as though his arched bushy eyebrows and sour scowl had hardened into a rigid mask. The man sat there all night, brooding over the table like a demented eagle.

His name was Jerry.

I had the first privilege of playing with Jerry when I opened AQ over a limper to $15 from the button. Jerry and the limper both called and we saw a QT4 flop ($46). The limper donk-bet his short stack of $40 into the middle and I elected to flat. Jerry called behind.

The turn brought a blank, the 6, and I bet 75, which Jerry quickly called. Once the river brought another blank and he checked, I comfortably shoved my remaining stack into the middle, confident that I could get called by worse Qx. Jerry folded, though, and I dragged the main pot vs. shorty's KTo.

Soon after, Jared received a full double up when he rivered the nut straight and check/shoved over Jerry's river bet. That hand was a mere setup for their main confrontation. In a straddled pot Jared opened to twenty from early position. He had been playing more solidly than the previous night at the Bellagio, and I doubted that he'd be light in this spot. Surprisingly, Jerry slid out a 3-bet to $60, which almost guaranteed that he had a premium. With over six hundred behind, Jared called.

The flop of T98 made things interesting when Jared check/raised Jerry's continuation bet to $200: sets and straights were possible, of course, but part of me feared that my friend had reverted back into spazz mode. It had happened only twenty-four hours ago. Could last night be repeating itself?

It didn't take long to find out. Jerry flung two bills onto the table and glared at the 4that glimmered on the mustard baize.

"All-in," Jared said. He acted instantly, brashly--in the exact manner as he had the night before when he bluffed me.

"Call."

Jared flipped two black tens. Top set. He had it this time.

Craning his neck to see what the river would bring, Jerry's eyes grew when he saw the: A. I flinched. Had he just rivered a higher set?

Jerry sat motionless, staring straight at the final board, his face twitching with baffled outrage. Finally he tossed his cards facedown into the muck.

***

By the end of the night, as players and dealers cycled to our tables, we learned that everyone knew Jerry. He was the Donator, the Whale, the guy whom games form around. For one night at least, we were the gracious recipients of his terrible play. We'd return to the glitzy "new" strip the next day to try our luck at the Venetian.

Re-presenting Poker in the Media

As someone who's interested in the poker's representation across art and culture, the latest episode of The Thinking Poker podcast was a fun listen. The guest was Matt Sienkiewicz, a professor in the Boston College communications department; he specializes in media studies, which is a branch of cultural studies. Matt studies the power structures that underpin acts of communication: specifically, the dynamics through or by which movies are made, and the dynamics between the individual artist (the filmmaker) and "the system" (Hollywood, audience expectations).

Since I have the habit of hearing things and forgetting them forever, here are some notes from the podcast, which is available here: http://www.thinkingpoker.net/2014/11...t-sienkiewicz/

Poker as a Social Game

Much of the discussion revolved around Rounders, that beloved poker flick that will apparently have a sequel in the next year or two. As a cultural critic, Matt's concerned with how poker, as a cultural object, finds its way onto the screen. What parts get emphasized? What parts are distorted, ignored, or left out?

Nate asked Matt what it is about poker that makes it so interesting. The social dynamics, Matt answered, especially poker's focus on competition. Competition is generally a part of male sociality, but it's especially prominent in poker: the way in which money flows from one way to the other. The idea of taking, or trying to take, several thousands of dollars from a friend, is really tough to reconcile. Hence the soft-playing, checking hands down that we sometimes see. Andrew mentioned when he played a guy who made a large bet on the river and mouthed "don't call" because he felt bad about calling the bet. Andrew folded, and the guy showed the winning hand.

This was an especially uncomfortable spot for Andrew because it felt like the man was stepping outside the game/appealing to some relationship that Andrew wasn't on board with, since he wouldn't have been the same thing had the roles been reversed.

Michel Foucault; or--Knowledge is Power, Yo



Matt and Andrew discussed their interest in Michel Foucault, the French literary critic who's still fashionable in the humanities.

Foucault's basic point, to radically simplify, is that knowledge can't be separated from power. One can never hold an apolitical position, Foucault argues, because, at root, knowledge is power. To know something isn't a neutral act; it's to put someone in his place, to exert power over him.

By way of example, Matt pointed out the climactic scene in Rounders when Matt Damon's character figures out Teddy KGB's tell (the oreo). Rather than concealing this knowledge in order to exploit his opponent, Damon enacts this newfound knowledge: he verbalizes it and, although his gives up his strategic advantage in the poker game, he restructures their relationship and puts himself above Teddy KGB. He uses knowledge as an act of power.

In actual poker games, to offer a more general example, players will brag about what they're doing well or berate others for a bad play ("that was a stupid call! Why would you call there?). From a strategic standpoint this is dumb; from the standpoint of power relationships it makes sense, since these players use their knowledge to place themselves above others. This connects to the psychology of poker in that, no matter how good you are, all players, even the best ones, seek affirmation in order to prop up their image as a "good" player. "Why would you call there?!" can thus be translated as: not only did you make a bad call, but I'm a good enough player to know that you made a bad call.

Nate also pointed out that Foucault's theory of the panopticon helps us to understand the structure of casinos, which are similar to prisons in how they're designed. The recent book Addiction by Design goes into casino design in more detail.

How Media shapes Rounders



Towards the end, Matt explains how media, especially The Hollywood Machine, shapes poker's representation. He focuses on the film's indomitable whiteness: mirroring its target audience (white, middle-class, "all-American"), Matt Damon is featured as the handsome white guy who always gets another chance. He's easy to like and easy to identify with. Almost everyone in the film, even the ethnic "others," the Russians, are white. A notable omission of the film, as a result, is the incredible ethnic diversity of the poker community. The racial dynamics of Rounders offers one example of the gap between representation and reality. (Andrew pointed out that Johnny Chan plays a significant role in the film).

Hey Bob, was reading this interestingly detailed article about Bruno Caboclo, the Toronto Raptor's first choice in the 2014 NBA draft. Being Brazalian and all, they trace back to his humble Provincial roots and his path to the big leagues. Anyhow, thought you might enjoy it :

http://www.nba.com/2014/news/feature...=iref:nbahpt6d

I never considered this poker phenomenon as an example of knowledge as power. From a sociological perspective, there is definitely a preoccupation with status in the poker community. At times it feels almost tribal: which perhaps explains why most players don't value knowledge as much as they should. All that seems to matter to most is being perceived as the best and having that stack of chips (running "hot", being the "boss", "ruling the table", "crushing" etc.,). The belief system in play is thus one where the best player appears to be charmed and in possession of some kind of magic. Of course, the reality is that the best simply have the greatest amount of strategic knowledge as well as the emotional and psychological wares to execute it.

I hadn't considered it either. I don't know if I'd describe what's being leveraged as "knowledge," since, often, the people berating others are precisely the ones lacking strategic know-how. But I do think that, as you say, players need to establish themselves at the top of a perceived pecking order. This impulse is very strong.

thanks for sending, dubn. I enjoyed reading about Bruno. How's he doing this season? Crazy to think that a guy who averaged 4ppg in highschool was drafted in the first round of the NBA. Goes to show just how extensive recruiting is these days.

Yeah, like it says in the article, Masai Ujiri was high on his upside, and didn't want to take the risk of losing him out to another team by the time he could select again, with th 37th spot. What it doesn't mention though, is that Masai was also intrigued by Greek phenom, Giannis Antetokounpo, in 2013 and tried to trade into the draft to get him... We now know how Giannis turned out to be the steal of the draft at #15. So Masai didn't want to lose out on his gamble this year, going for a tremendous amount of raw potential instead of safer, more proven players.

As far as Bruno's performances this year, he remains a long term project. Outside of the burn he got in the Toronto vs Milwauke blowout victory (where he got 8 pts and 1 block), he is mainly there to soak in some NBA practices and general lifestyle. Yet, the Raptor's fans treat him like the second coming of Durant Easy to comprehend though, as Toronto is a bit like Cleveland when it comes to major sports : nothing but the vague promise of dreams to show for...

You got me curious so I watched the highlights of his season opener: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzxi2XhCygE.

Very nice dunk and smooth stroke. I can see why people make Durant comparisons. He's got that prototypical NBA body.

Vegas Redux, Part 3

"Now don't go thinking about who the better poker player is, because I could just as easily tell a hundred stories that make Ace look good and me look like a chump. And what's the moral? What I'm saying is this--there is no reality, it all depends on how I present what is and how I cloud it. And the answer doesn't matter." --Jesse May, Shut up and Deal

Monday evening. I sit at a reg-infested table at the Aria, dwelling on the eventful weekend behind me. After Saturday's trip to Fremont Street, on Sunday Jared and I destroyed another buffet (the Bellagio's) and poker room (the Venetian's). Well, at least Jared did. After crushing the game for another grand, he flew back to Boston with a glistening bracelet for his girlfriend and plenty of hundos left over to purchase tasty treats for Flynn, the ultimate dog.



I was still in Vegas. I had already played a morning session at Harrahs, where the game revolved around a drunken Hispanic birthday-boy, Jose, who'd been drinking since the previous night. The guy was a disaster, a walking cliche straight from a Vegas comedy or gambling-awareness pamphlet: he slurred his words, infuriated the dealers, spilled chips, snoozed in his chair, busted, took a smoke break and rebought, busted again. Finally, he groggily limped into the midday sunshine to suck down another cigarette and confront his angry girlfriend. Happy birthday, Jose.


Winners Talk, Losers Walk


"This game is a woman, and it's a tremendous whore" --Seat Nine


Seat One was a pro. Although he used to play higher, Seat Three was the best player at the table. Seat Five had made a TV final table (he was all over Youtube). Seat Seven was a pro. Seat Eight was a pro. Seat Nine wasn't a pro; he was a mother****ing killer, a canny veteran waiting to devour Seat Eight's chips.

Scanning the situation from Seat Six, I considered table-changing. But I decided to stay. For the last month I had been exploiting bad players. I needed to improve at exploiting regs. And I was curious to see just how good these "pros" at the Aria were.

Seat Eight, a mid-twenties black guy dressed in a multicolored plaid shirt, raised from the button. Seat Nine, a disgruntled French man in his fifties, called from the small blind.

"Want to check it down?" he asked after seeing the A3K flop.

"Sorry, sir," said Eight. "I have a hand."

The flop went check/bet/call, the J turn went check/check. On the river, a T, Eight potted the river. Nine tanked and leaned forward, scrutinizing his tablemate. Eight covered his mouth, breathed heavily, averted his eyes, gave off every weak tell that he could--and eventually induced a call from A3.

"Just the nuts," Eight said, showing KQ. Never one to pass up the chance to needle, he giggled. "Well played, sir. Nice job betting your hand when it was good."

Eight had been bantering with everyone at the table, me included, and had built a special rapport with Seat Three, a white-haired retired cop at the other end of the table. They'd played many times before. Three had played tightly, limping or calling the pots that he entered. So when he backraised a squeeze in middle position, his hand was (or should have been) face-up as AA/KK. Seat Six, a long-haired televised TV final tabler, wasn't convinced. He shoved.

"Call." Three instantly flipped over aces. Six nodded grimly. Suddenly he stood to lose a six hundred dollar pot.

The board ran out terribly for black aces--KQJJ9--but Seat Six continued to nod grimly. He slowly slid his cards face-down towards the muck.

The table wondered: What the hell did he reraise with?

Eight giggled. "How can you have nothing on that board?"

Six paused. He leaned forward, studying the community cards, and exposed his hand.

Pocket tens. His straight was good.

Three rocketed out of his chair and pointed a quivering finger at Eight. "You've got a big mouth. A big mouth!" He stormed away.

Table talk oscillated between whether Eight was out of line ("I made a mistake, I shouldn't have said anything," he said, a hurt look in his eyes) and the fact that Three, a one-time high stakes player, was a whiny bitch ("he had it coming").

After a few minutes, Eight went to apologize to Three, and the table talk shifted. "Let me tell you something," said Nine, his eyes glinting, "I don't want your money--or your money--or yours--" he jabbed his finger at each of our stacks, then looked at Eight's-- "I want his money."

"I have played cards for many, many years," he said proudly, "And I'm waiting for the right moment to pounce!"

His chance never came. Eight returned, Nine left for dinner, and the table talk shifted again--to Nine's status as uber-donk.

By the time I racked up for the night, I had a much different impression of the table. The "pros" were mediocre; a few were terrible. All the while players came and went, perceptions shifted, minds changed, and the game whirred like an unhinged merry-go-round.

And what about Seat Six? Six, I assure you, was a solid TAG, rarely getting out of line except to isolate weak players--especially Nine--in position. In Six's final hand, after an UTG limp, he made it eighteen from the small blind. Seat Seven, who'd been playing tight, made it fifty to go with three hundred behind. Six flatted and check/folded to $75 on an AK7 flop.

"Just one time," Seven said. The J and 5 fluttered across the felt.

"You've been squeezing too much," explained Seven.

"Ah," said Six.