The Rematch

Earlier this week I attended the same poker night as my previous post. The format was the same as last week: 4 or 5 tables, deep-staked, £20 buy in plus a £2 rake (approximately US$44 total), cheap beer, with the top 6 or 7 players getting paid.

I went into last weeks game with the plan of getting in the money, which I did pretty comfortably, but didn't give myself a chance when I got there because I was so short stacked. This week I had evil intentions. I was still going to pick my spots but play more aggressively, so if or when I got to the final table, I would be in a position to take the top prize.

I started off by getting junk hands and I folded everything for the first hour. By everything, I mean absolutely everything! I didn't play a hand at all. During this hour though I was studying the other players and more importantly for my journey to the top, I was studying myself. I really wanted to work on my own tells tonight after my post about how easy I am to read.

I played really well. I played tight patient poker, but I played it aggressively. I made a lot of good moves and I made one or two great moves, my favorites being folding set of jacks after somebody re-raised with his set of aces. I turned over my cards after I folded and the other players laughed at my "rookie fold" saying how I should have pushed all in. I said "nice hand" just before the other guy turned his aces over knowing that although my hand was nice, my read was nicer!

I set myself the target of reaching the final table with enough chips to play it with, and I got there. In some aspect I would say it was easy, I was never all-in so my game was never on the line and I didn't once find myself in a pot that I wish I didn't go into. I just kept slowly adding to my stack. But in other ways I am finding out that to play patiently for twenty minutes is easy, but to play patiently for 3 hours is a very hard thing to do and takes a lot out of a player. It makes the five days of a World Series main event seem like a life time.

As we sat down for the final table I had a pretty good idea how most of the players were playing and was using it to my advantage. I got involved in a war of cards with a guy at the other side of the table with me because when ever he had a good hand, so did I. It seemed like a heads up match with me and him with the other players simply watching. It was a good exchange and the gentleman was staring right through me the whole time. I thought I noticed something with his blinking pattern but didn't have time to really study it before I took him out (he flopped a straight and I flopped the flush.). I enjoyed going one on one with him and would have liked to have done it with just the two of us because I think I could have found a major tell with his eyes but he left with a handshake and a see ya next week.

The table got down to 5 people and the train suddenly got derailed in an instance. I had pocket kings and the chip leader (who was ridiculously loose since winning a huge pot just before the final table) pushed all in with pocket 4 7 off suit. I called and he hit a 4 on the turn and a 7 on the river giving him two pairs to my kings. I was gone out of the game but didn't feel bad about it. Bad beats happen, it is a part of poker that you can't avoid so there isn't any point in dwelling on it. Besides, I played really well tonight and felt as though it is just a matter of time before I get a massive boost to my bank roll by winning that weekly tournament. I also met some really interesting people that seemed to fit into certain stereotypes of poker players, but I'll save that observation for another post. I went to bed with a lot to think about and I fell asleep that night with a good feeling about our mission and felt that I am really making progress.

Later that night, when there was silence in the streets, and the only movement was the stars twinkling in the sky, and the moon was gently watching over a sleeping world, The Future Poker Star woke from his sleep like a bolt of lightening, his eyes sprung open and said: HOW THE F**K COULD HE PUSH ME ALL IN WITH 4 7 OFF SUIT?!?!?!?