Thursday, December 30, 2004
Trip Report: Canterbury Park Card ClubAfter about a year of playing online poker on a pretty regular basis, I made my way out to the Canterbury Park Card Club on Tuesday and played my first live poker (aside from a few friendly games at last year's SABR convention). The main difference between online poker and live poker is abundantly clear right off the bat. To play online, you have to be awake and have your computer on. To play live, you have to get up, shower, get dressed, drive out to the card room, park, go inside, sign up for a game, wait around for your name to be called, find the table, and buy chips.
The waiting-for-your-name-to-be-called part is by far the worst aspect of the entire experience. I showed up at around 11:30 on a Tuesday afternoon and the place was absolutely packed. They had all 34 tables up and running and, as I heard several dealers say to each other in frustration, everything was 10-handed. People were packed in like sardines and the waiting lists for each game were insanely long. I went up to the big board, said "Aaron G. for $2/$4 hold 'em," and then watched in horror as my name was written under a minimum of 100 other names. The list I was on was so long that I wasn't even in the first column of names. And there were similar lists for $3/$6 hold 'em, $4/$8 hold 'em, $8/$16 hold 'em, and $2/$4 stud, plus slightly shorter lists for other games.
So I waited ... and waited ... and waited. I had lunch (hot ham and cheese sandwich with chips, which was excellent), lurked over a few tables to watch some action, chatted with some of my fellow degenerates, and did all of that other fun stuff people do when they are killing what is a seemingly endless amount of time in place where the only real thing to do is not available to you. About three hours after I put my name on the waiting list, I finally heard my name called. I awoke from my boredom-induced coma, hustled up to the front of the room, and identified myself. I then heard the magic words: "Aaron G., you'll be at table one." Beautiful.
I took my seat two spots to the dealer's left and glanced around the table at my competition. The guy to my right was in his 60s, with a white beard and a bald head, and he had a buddy standing directly behind him chatting away the entire time. To my left was a kid who was somewhere between 18-22, and who I later learned was also heavy into Party Poker. To his left was an elderly married couple, who I eventually found out enjoyed spending their twilight years losing money at poker. The other five spots were filled by guys around my age, four of whom were wearing a baseball hat just like me.
I bought in for $100, which amazingly enough is represented by 100 light blue poker chips, rather than just "$100.00" next to your name like it is online. I had been practicing my chip shuffling technique, so I immediately began stacking and shuffling. Then I took a look around the table and saw that everyone under 60 was doing the exact same thing (and they were a lot better at it). One guy at the far end of the table (who looked like Erick Lindgren's younger brother) was shuffling stacks of 20, which is essentially the pinnacle of poker genius in my book.
I won the first three pots I played past the flop, building my bankroll quickly up to around $135. Then I took my first bad beat of the session, when my Ah Qd flopped a pair of aces, only to have the board fill with four spades. When the fourth one hit on the river, I figured I was dead, but I called the last $4 anyway in part just to see what my opponent had. Turns out he had Kc 9s, which means a few disturbing things. One, he called a pre-flop raise out of position with K9 offsuit. Two, he then called a post-flop bet with absolutely nothing, despite the fact that a) I raised pre-flop, and b) there was an ace on the board.
Of course, he looked like a genius when the turn and river came runner-runner spades. Although, I'm not sure why he would have stuck around to see if he could river a flush when all he had was the nine of spades. Had my ace or queen been a spade, he would have called a raise pre-flop with junk, called a bet post-flop with absolutely nothing, called a bet on the turn with nothing but four cards to a nine-high flush, and then bet at the river with his crappy flush. That one cost me a $35 pot, but it didn't even compare to my worst beat of the session.
Later on I raised from the button with Ks Jh and only the small blind called. The flop came K-x-x with two diamonds. He checked, I bet out, he called. The turn was a seven of spades. He checked again, I bet out again, and he called again. The river was a seven of clubs. He checked again, I bet out again, and this time he raised. I studied the board. The obvious stuff that had me beat was AA, AK, KQ, or a small pocket pair that flopped a set. Or, if he had K7 (which I couldn't put him on since he likely wouldn't have called the pre-flop raise and then likely would have raised once he hit his two-pair on the turn), I was facing a full house.
I had a lot of trouble putting him on any of those hands, so I just called. I flipped over my Ks Jh, expected to see him muck his hand, and instead saw him sheepishly turn over 72d. He saw that my head was about to explode and quickly said, grinning, "They were suited." Now, 72 offsuit is perhaps the single worst starting hand in hold 'em, and 72 suited is just slightly better (because of the flush possibilities, although a seven isn't exactly a strong high-card for a flush anyway).
As he was raking in
I was going to take my bad beat in relative silence, but the whole table actually started laughing when he turned his cards over. It was the topic of conversation for the next 3-4 hands, which for me was like slipping on some ice, falling into a snow bank, and then having someone come up and rub your face in the snow while an audience pointed and laughed. I cashed out a little later down $19 (4.75 BB) for the session. My goal was simply to break even, so a $19 loss wasn't horrible. Plus, I thought I played very well and could have finished up $50 or so if not for those two tough hands.
Some notes on the experience ...
I got a fair number of low pocket pairs, but didn't flop a single set (three-of-a-kind) with them, so the stuff I found myself playing through to the end were hands like AQ, AJ, KQ, and KJ that connected on the flop for top pair. Not that there's anything wrong with playing face cards, but I don't think it's the recipe for winning poker.
Of the guys in their 20s (or late teens, I guess), at least 75% were wearing hats. Surprisingly few were wearing sun glasses, especially at the lower-stakes tables. Personally, I think the idea of an amateur poker player wearing sunglasses as a $2/$4 or $3/$6 table is laughable. It is the equivalent of wearing a batting helmet to a wiffle ball game.
Yet the dealers all expect it and, for whatever reason, the players buy into it. At one point we had a dealer who suddenly started dealing extremely slowly, passing out each card with an exaggerated motion and sort of lofting them through the air to each player. Someone asked him why he was dealing so slow (there was a bad beat jackpot that ended soon) and he said, "I don't deal fast if I don't get paid." Now, keep in mind that this guy is obviously "getting paid." He has a job as a dealer in a card room, for which I'm sure he makes a decent wage for the skills required.
But there he was, performing horribly at the job he is being paid to do, and he is doing it on purpose. And why? Because the players at the lowest-stakes table in the entire place had the nerve not to "tip" him $1 every time they won a $20 pot. Of course, immediately after he said that, people began tipping him, which is even more ridiculous. In what other line of work can you intentionally perform horribly, tell people you are performing horribly because you aren't being given extra money from the people whose experience is lessened because of your horrible performance, and then expect them to immediately begin giving you money.
If I was more of a jerk I would have gotten up from the table and told someone in charge what was going on, because I honestly think the dealer's actions were a fireable offense. If you are paid to deal cards and you have been hired because you presumably deal them well, you should be fired if you intentionally deal them poorly while trying to blackmail the customers out of money. I was under the impression that people get tipped because they work hard, but apparently they just work hard because they get tipped.
By the way, I lost track of how many blue chips I tossed to dealers and waitresses, but I'm guessing my $19 in "losses" would have been pretty close to $5 or $10 if I had gone completely tipless.
I'm pretty sure no one cares and I really don't have an explanation for it anyway, but I just thought it was weird. I've never gone from feeling great to feeling like I was about to pass out/throw up/die that quickly, and then it all disappeared (except for the massively stuffed up nose and sore throat, which stuck around). My poor little immune system was no match for a dirty poker room. Either that or that ham sandwich wasn't quite as good as it tasted.
I also had no luck spotting anyone who resembled what I imagine Taylor from Stripper by Night looks like (although, considering my imagination, there may not be anyone who looks like that). I checked out the high stakes hold 'em tables a couple times, but the closest thing I saw to a beautiful woman was a guy who looked like a ZZ Top impersonator. It was probably for the best anyway, because considering how slick I am chatting with the opposite sex I would have had less to say to her than I would have to Chris. ("So ... come here often?")
Today at The Hardball Times:
- Picture This (by Steve Treder)
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
In Progress ...I got home late from the Canterbury Park Card Club last night and had a massive headache along with simply being really tired, so I hit the sack right away. I'm working on a proper "trip report" right now, which I'll post here first thing tomorrow morning.
In the meantime, check out some poker blogs to whet your appetite:
- Guinness and Poker
- Basically a Poker Blog
- Paul Phillips' Journal
- Daniel Negreanu's Journal
- Dutch Boyd's Blog
- John Juanda's Blog
- The Cards Speak
- Tao of Poker
- Poker Grub
- Stripper by Night
- Stick and Move
- Lumpy's Blog
Today at The Hardball Times:
- Rivals in Exile: Happy Holidays? (by Ben Jacobs and Larry Mahnken)
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
You Live By the Volek, You Die By the VolekI made the playoffs in the Baseball Think Factory fantasy football league with a Week 14 victory over Chris Dial's Peyton Manning-led team. Days before the first playoff game (which was the league semi-finals, since only four teams made the postseason), I decided to pick Tennessee backup quarterback Billy Volek up off the waiver wire. Volek had been subbing for an injured Steve McNair and putting up some pretty big numbers. I also loved his Week 15 matchup against the Raiders, a team FootballOutsiders.com said had the worst pass defense in the NFL.
So I picked Volek up and started him in my playoff game, ahead of Jake Plummer and Aaron Brooks (don't ask me how my team made the playoffs with those two at QB, because I have no idea). What did Volek do? Five total touchdowns and 492 passing yards on an astonishing 60 passes, with just one interception. Volek scored 50.7 fantasy points all by himself and my team totaled 124.3. I went into Monday Night Football with a 3.25-point lead and no players left, while my opponent had Miami tight end Randy McMichael. McMichael totaled 29 yards and no touchdowns, scoring 2.9 fantasy points. I won 124.30 to 123.95 -- a difference of 0.35 points.
For this weekend's league championship, I didn't really like Volek's matchup against the Broncos very much and I actually thought Plummer could do some damage against the Titans' defense in what was a must-win game. But really, how can you bench a guy who threw for 492 yards and accounted for five touchdowns the week before? I couldn't, so I started Volek in the championship game and he laid a massive egg. Zero touchdowns, two interceptions, and a total of just 111 yards. And that was all before he got yanked in the middle of the game for -- get ready for this -- Doug Johnson.
My team had other problems too. The New York Jets' defense, which had been so good for me all season long, gave up 23 points to the Patriots without creating a single turnover, scoring me exactly one fantasy point. Matt Stover, who was in the top five for kicker scoring entering the game, kicked a lone extra point in Baltimore's 20-7 loss to the Steelers. Roy Williams came up with 33 measly yards and no touchdowns and Brian Westbrook didn't even play last night. Edgerrin James and Darrell Jackson had decent games, but my squad scored a grand total of 35.35 points in the championship game, which is beyond pathetic.
I'm not really complaining though, because in the end I probably got what I deserved. If you pick up a QB on waivers days before your first playoff game, start that QB over the two guys you used all season, and then win the game thanks to an amazing performance from that QB ... well, you probably deserve a lot worse than having that same QB lay an egg the next week. In fact, what you deserve is for the whole team to score fewer points in the championship game than that QB had the week before.
NOTE #1: I'm heading out to the Canterbury Park Card Club for my first taste of live poker today. If you're out there around noon and you see a big guy with glasses and a blue Twins hat who is bluffing way too much, start up a conversation with him about Luis Rivas.
NOTE #2: If you'd like to meet me, but you'd rather not do it in a poker room, make sure to check out yesterday's announcement.
Today at The Hardball Times:
- Leveling the 1930s Playing Field, Part 1: The Seasons (by Steve Treder)
- The One About Win Probability (by Studes)
Monday, December 27, 2004
Twins Fan Meet and GreetMy Twins blogging colleague Will Young is back in Minnesota for a short time on winter break from George Washington University and has decided to put together a little get-together for Twins fans. It'll take place this upcoming Sunday, January 2, starting at 6 p.m. and lasting until we get tired of arguing about whether or not the team should have re-signed Corey Koskie.
The location is The Bulldog, which is at 2549 Lyndale Avenue South (I've never been there before, otherwise I'd give some better directions). I'll be there, along with Will, John "Twins Geek" Bonnes, Bat-Girl, and the Stick and Ball Guy. Plus, we're hoping a whole bunch of other Twins fans show up, too.
Here are the details:
WHO: Aaron Gleeman, John "Twins Geek" Bonnes, Bat-Girl, Will Young, Stick and Ball Guy.
WHAT: An evening of Twins talk and dinner.
WHERE: The Bulldog, 2549 Lyndale Avenue South. (Mapquest link.)
WHEN: Sunday, January 2, 6 p.m. to whenever.
WHY: Why not? Come tell me all the nice/nasty things you've been saying via e-mail for years.
Depending on the expected turnout, we might have to get a room set aside for our group, so if you're planning to attend please drop Will an e-mail to let him know. The more the merrier, so bring the family and friends.
As always, if you have any questions or comments, feel free to e-mail me. I'd love to see as many of you there as possible, because anytime I've gotten together with Twins fans I've "met" through this blog, it's been a lot of fun.