So far, so weak for ESPN's broadcast of the Main Event.
Unlike many of you, I love ESPN's poker broadcasts. I think the network really tries to capture the strangeness of the poker boom as well as the seriousness of it, something the World Poker Tour could, I don't know, maybe learn from, given that that show takes itself far too seriously.
The Nuts stories are usually funny, short and interesting. ESPN manages to find stories that the Denver papers here missed, including one on a guy with brain cancer and his crew who came here to follow his progress through the tournament.
Yes, many times ESPN focuses too much on the "heartwarming" stories, as if it was NBC covering the Olympics, when we all know that the main event is packed with guys you really wouldn't want to sit next to on an airplane. But ESPN does a pretty good job of something impossible, and that's making sense out of more than 8,000 players in a poker tournament.
Having said that, ESPN obviously rushed the telecast this year, and while I don't blame the network's officials for making that decision — the Internet, something that fueled the poker boom, also squeezes all the drama out of it, so you might as well get it on while it's still somewhat fresh, or at least not rancid — it's made it too easy to focus on the easy stuff.
Last night we basically got two hours of Daniel Negreanu and Joe Hachem. I think focusing on Hachem is a wise decision — it's nice to appreciate him for the great player he really is — but ESPN basically just switched back and forth between Hachem and Negreanu, with tiny bits of Raymer, Moneymaker and a couple movie, music and boxing stars thrown in for good measure. Last night Hachem talked about a hand with his playing partners when quads got beat by runner, runner straight flush. It would have been nice to see that. Or did I miss it?
Negreanu had a good showing in this tournament, but it's time to focus on someone else, like, maybe, Cunningham, who made the final table.
I'm a huge fan of Negreanu. It's quite possible he's my favorite player. But he's getting far too much face time lately. He's all over High Stakes Poker, the Professional Poker Tour can't pull away from him and he's in a Pepsi commercial.
Partly that's because he's good at what he does. He's a wonderful player, and he's engaging and articulate and funny. But that's also precisely the problem. He makes it far too easy for the networks to cover him instead of finding the real stories behind these poker tournaments. Why dig when you can just go to camera one on Negreanu for two hours?
Negreanu deserves the publicity. But poker deserves to be covered as well.
• • •
Labor Day weekend is supposed to be beautiful here, and I'm taking the weekend off. This is when I question why I need the break.
But I do. Friday night I'm going to see my brother's house, and Saturday night I'm playing poker with the guys. In between all that, I'll have plenty of time with Kate and the J-man. That's still needed: Jayden last night favored Kate pretty heavily again despite me watching him all day Monday.
• • •
Our coed softball team last night crushed a good team 18-9. We've got a lineup no with no easy outs, and that's the key to winning at coed (at least in our weak league), is when your girls can hit or at least not strike out.
It should be fun. If I can get the damn ball over the plate we'd be even better.
• • •
I played three SnGs last night and bubbled all three of them. I didn't catch many cards and I didn't win the races when I had to push.
That stuff happens, I guess. I'm sure I could have played better, but I took it as paying the piper a bit after Saturday's awesome take.
Have fun this Labor Day weekend.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Maybe I should stay home more often
Slb already did the bragging for me, so perhaps I shouldn't puff my pigeon chest out any further, but Saturday was a fun night of poker.
I entered a $10, 30-person tournament Saturday night at Pokerroom, one of the few places you can play on a Mac (more on that below). I have played these 30-person SnGs with good success, and I picked the $10 one instead of the $5 tournament mostly because it was about ready to go, and they can take a while to fill up.
I've heard there isn't much difference between $5 and $10 SnG players, and I'm sure that's probably true, but I'm still a little intimidated by the $10. I know that sounds really stupid, but I have about $1,000 for my online bankroll, so I still need to be cautious about what I play.
I had a goal of making the final table and possibly cashing.
I started to stack a bit with raises and continuation bets and one small showdown, and then I had 4,4 and folded to a big raise. When the board hit 4,5,J, I was cursing myself for being a pussy, my worst tendency as a player. I had the chips to gamble a bit and felt like I blew a big chance to really grab a big stack early.
When the two others players pushed I gritted my teeth.
Until I saw what they had.
5,5
J,J.
No shit.
I even stood up and caught myself from saying, "I can dodge bullets baby."
My next hand I got QQ and doubled up when the other guy pushed with 10,10 on a flop with all undercards. I figured that's what the guy had, given that he had played poorly. Still, I took a chance and it paid off.
The Poker Gods, it seemed, were rewarding my patience.
I caught some hands at the end, survived when my K,Q went against A,9 and I flopped a K (my only suckout), and I found myself heads up with a wild but aggressive and strong player. I won when I flopped a flush and he refused to believe me. Then I called him down to the river with A,10 and one from a flush. When he pushed, I called and he had K,J. Neither of our cards matched and I took down $120, my biggest tournament score yet.
I wound up winning another SnG that night for another $25 score while watching "Silence of the Lambs" on Bravo. My heads-up match with the other guy in that one lasted 15 minutes. It was really fun, although patience, once again, paid off. He had me 4-1 at one point but I hung in there and kept chipping away. I need to remember that because at times I just push in heads up, yet that's when you really make your money is by winning and not placing.
Maybe I should stay home from mountain climbing the rest of the year.
By the way, I heard two 14ers about three hours from home got a foot of snow.
Wow. Winter's coming in a hurry.
• • •
My weekend at home, by the way, was wonderful. I took Jayden swimming and read him a bunch of books and just spent some good quality time with him again. He actually cried when I went to work today. It's not all about Mom anymore, and I'm feeling our bond is strengthing every day after the damage I might have done to it this summer climbing all those peaks.
• • •
I bought a new computer, a laptop, with the money I made guiding this summer. It's a MacBook and will be a definite improvement over my 1999 500 Mhz iMac. I'm really excited too because this is an Intel, so it will run Windows, and that means I'm signing up for some more poker Web sites.
How has it gone for the rest of you using Poker Source Online? I'm going to try it with Party Poker (I just have to see how juicy these $25 NL cash games really are) and I'll see how it goes. It seems like a really good deal, so I'll probably use it again after I clear my first time.
I just wonder if it's better to go through PSO or the Web site's bonus itself. I figured PSO for Party given that it doesn't offer a bonus there.
• • •
I'm reading Harrington's Volume III, and I really love the guy. I've learned more about tournament poker from his books than anything else. His style fits my style as well, so it's a good fit. Volume III, the workbook, is definitely worth picking up. I hope one day I can meet Harrington so I can tell him how much his books have helped me.
• • •
I'll leave you with some sad news in the jazz world. Maynard Ferguson, perhaps my favorite artist after Miles Davis and John Coltrane, died Wednesday.
His music, especially in his later years, may sound like cheesy disco to many of you, but the guy, as they say, had chops. He could hit the highest of notes, and his band was always awesome, pumping life and excitement into the sometimes tired jazz world. He was one of the greatest trumpet players who ever lived, and he brought some great music to the jazz world. Without him, I would not have loved jazz the way I did, and I doubt I would have played in college.
Thanks, Maynard, for a great career.
I entered a $10, 30-person tournament Saturday night at Pokerroom, one of the few places you can play on a Mac (more on that below). I have played these 30-person SnGs with good success, and I picked the $10 one instead of the $5 tournament mostly because it was about ready to go, and they can take a while to fill up.
I've heard there isn't much difference between $5 and $10 SnG players, and I'm sure that's probably true, but I'm still a little intimidated by the $10. I know that sounds really stupid, but I have about $1,000 for my online bankroll, so I still need to be cautious about what I play.
I had a goal of making the final table and possibly cashing.
I started to stack a bit with raises and continuation bets and one small showdown, and then I had 4,4 and folded to a big raise. When the board hit 4,5,J, I was cursing myself for being a pussy, my worst tendency as a player. I had the chips to gamble a bit and felt like I blew a big chance to really grab a big stack early.
When the two others players pushed I gritted my teeth.
Until I saw what they had.
5,5
J,J.
No shit.
I even stood up and caught myself from saying, "I can dodge bullets baby."
My next hand I got QQ and doubled up when the other guy pushed with 10,10 on a flop with all undercards. I figured that's what the guy had, given that he had played poorly. Still, I took a chance and it paid off.
The Poker Gods, it seemed, were rewarding my patience.
I caught some hands at the end, survived when my K,Q went against A,9 and I flopped a K (my only suckout), and I found myself heads up with a wild but aggressive and strong player. I won when I flopped a flush and he refused to believe me. Then I called him down to the river with A,10 and one from a flush. When he pushed, I called and he had K,J. Neither of our cards matched and I took down $120, my biggest tournament score yet.
I wound up winning another SnG that night for another $25 score while watching "Silence of the Lambs" on Bravo. My heads-up match with the other guy in that one lasted 15 minutes. It was really fun, although patience, once again, paid off. He had me 4-1 at one point but I hung in there and kept chipping away. I need to remember that because at times I just push in heads up, yet that's when you really make your money is by winning and not placing.
Maybe I should stay home from mountain climbing the rest of the year.
By the way, I heard two 14ers about three hours from home got a foot of snow.
Wow. Winter's coming in a hurry.
• • •
My weekend at home, by the way, was wonderful. I took Jayden swimming and read him a bunch of books and just spent some good quality time with him again. He actually cried when I went to work today. It's not all about Mom anymore, and I'm feeling our bond is strengthing every day after the damage I might have done to it this summer climbing all those peaks.
• • •
I bought a new computer, a laptop, with the money I made guiding this summer. It's a MacBook and will be a definite improvement over my 1999 500 Mhz iMac. I'm really excited too because this is an Intel, so it will run Windows, and that means I'm signing up for some more poker Web sites.
How has it gone for the rest of you using Poker Source Online? I'm going to try it with Party Poker (I just have to see how juicy these $25 NL cash games really are) and I'll see how it goes. It seems like a really good deal, so I'll probably use it again after I clear my first time.
I just wonder if it's better to go through PSO or the Web site's bonus itself. I figured PSO for Party given that it doesn't offer a bonus there.
• • •
I'm reading Harrington's Volume III, and I really love the guy. I've learned more about tournament poker from his books than anything else. His style fits my style as well, so it's a good fit. Volume III, the workbook, is definitely worth picking up. I hope one day I can meet Harrington so I can tell him how much his books have helped me.
• • •
I'll leave you with some sad news in the jazz world. Maynard Ferguson, perhaps my favorite artist after Miles Davis and John Coltrane, died Wednesday.
His music, especially in his later years, may sound like cheesy disco to many of you, but the guy, as they say, had chops. He could hit the highest of notes, and his band was always awesome, pumping life and excitement into the sometimes tired jazz world. He was one of the greatest trumpet players who ever lived, and he brought some great music to the jazz world. Without him, I would not have loved jazz the way I did, and I doubt I would have played in college.
Thanks, Maynard, for a great career.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Rain over me
The rain splatters against my basement window.
The scene has opened many prison movies. The rain is supposed to represent sadness, or at least that's what I'm assuming most of the time. Prison, the director is telling us through the obvious metaphors movies like to use, is a lonely, depressing place.
But I'm smiling as I hear the rain.
Instead of being in prison, I am, in fact, free.
I was supposed to go with my 14ers buddy and two other climbing partners, his wife and another guy who I climbed a couple peaks with last year.
Aspen. Capitol. The toughest 14er in Colorado out of the 54, and one of the state's toughest mountains.
I first climbed it in 2001, with a guy who had climbed almost 1,000 of them. My story on him ran across the national AP wire, along with my photo of him walking across the famous knife edge, which, if you imagine an ant walking across a butter knife, you'll get an idea of what we had to do to get to Capitol's rare and unforgiving summit. He said it was one of the toughest he's done.
Still, Captiol is awesome, and I was looking forward to it.
But I was also longing to stay home, with Jayden and Kate and my bed and dogs and poker.
I climbed Longs Peak Thursday, leading a group of seven up. It was a 17-hour day by the time I got home, and it was my 14th time up, and though the mountain is one of my favorites, it's always a hard and, well, long day.
I was sore, tired and not really anxious to do another mountain.
It's been a long summer.
But now I can stay home, relax and have fun.
Capitol is no mountain to mess around with a forecast of snow, cold and, at least, rain all day.
The weather gave me a reprieve.
I will stay home the next couple of weeks. Then I'll pounce on a couple more peaks, and, finally, fall will come, with nothing to do but the occasional half-marathon, play with Jayden and bitch about my fantasy football team.
I'm really looking forward to it.
• • •
People do ask me why I would climb Longs 14 times. Aside from the joy of leading clients up an awesome mountain for their first time,and enjoying the money they paid me (I bought a new laptop, a Mac Book that will run Windows).
I'll leave you with the reason why. I especially like the first one. Although it looks like that would be my inner self after I take a bad beat (like last night in Omaha when I lost to runner runner straight flush, I know there aren't many true bad beats in Omaha but I think that qualifies), it's actually the first hint of the sun at 12,700 feet. You start the 14,250-foot Longs at 2:30 a.m. because it's the only way to avoid the afternoon thunderstorms that happen almost every day. After all, the mountain is 15 miles and you gain more than 5,00 feet, and over its rough, Class 3 terrain, that takes a while.
The first two pictures are your reward for getting up early (other than remaining fried free and staying alive).
Here's Longs. That east face is one of the most awesome sights in mountaineering. Many come from around the world to climb it. We skirted around the back side through the "keyhole" route, probably the most popular route in the state - and one of the hardest.
One of the scary parts of Longs, the aptly named narrows.
Here's the final 250 feet. It's not as bad as it looks. But it's not THAT easy either. :)
CUTE BABY ALERT!!!
Finally, here's the best reason for staying safe and staying home, the 15-month-old Jayden Miles England.
The scene has opened many prison movies. The rain is supposed to represent sadness, or at least that's what I'm assuming most of the time. Prison, the director is telling us through the obvious metaphors movies like to use, is a lonely, depressing place.
But I'm smiling as I hear the rain.
Instead of being in prison, I am, in fact, free.
I was supposed to go with my 14ers buddy and two other climbing partners, his wife and another guy who I climbed a couple peaks with last year.
Aspen. Capitol. The toughest 14er in Colorado out of the 54, and one of the state's toughest mountains.
I first climbed it in 2001, with a guy who had climbed almost 1,000 of them. My story on him ran across the national AP wire, along with my photo of him walking across the famous knife edge, which, if you imagine an ant walking across a butter knife, you'll get an idea of what we had to do to get to Capitol's rare and unforgiving summit. He said it was one of the toughest he's done.
Still, Captiol is awesome, and I was looking forward to it.
But I was also longing to stay home, with Jayden and Kate and my bed and dogs and poker.
I climbed Longs Peak Thursday, leading a group of seven up. It was a 17-hour day by the time I got home, and it was my 14th time up, and though the mountain is one of my favorites, it's always a hard and, well, long day.
I was sore, tired and not really anxious to do another mountain.
It's been a long summer.
But now I can stay home, relax and have fun.
Capitol is no mountain to mess around with a forecast of snow, cold and, at least, rain all day.
The weather gave me a reprieve.
I will stay home the next couple of weeks. Then I'll pounce on a couple more peaks, and, finally, fall will come, with nothing to do but the occasional half-marathon, play with Jayden and bitch about my fantasy football team.
I'm really looking forward to it.
• • •
People do ask me why I would climb Longs 14 times. Aside from the joy of leading clients up an awesome mountain for their first time,and enjoying the money they paid me (I bought a new laptop, a Mac Book that will run Windows).
I'll leave you with the reason why. I especially like the first one. Although it looks like that would be my inner self after I take a bad beat (like last night in Omaha when I lost to runner runner straight flush, I know there aren't many true bad beats in Omaha but I think that qualifies), it's actually the first hint of the sun at 12,700 feet. You start the 14,250-foot Longs at 2:30 a.m. because it's the only way to avoid the afternoon thunderstorms that happen almost every day. After all, the mountain is 15 miles and you gain more than 5,00 feet, and over its rough, Class 3 terrain, that takes a while.
The first two pictures are your reward for getting up early (other than remaining fried free and staying alive).
Here's Longs. That east face is one of the most awesome sights in mountaineering. Many come from around the world to climb it. We skirted around the back side through the "keyhole" route, probably the most popular route in the state - and one of the hardest.
One of the scary parts of Longs, the aptly named narrows.
Here's the final 250 feet. It's not as bad as it looks. But it's not THAT easy either. :)
CUTE BABY ALERT!!!
Finally, here's the best reason for staying safe and staying home, the 15-month-old Jayden Miles England.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Shocked! Shocked? Really?
Well, now Marion Jones, the darling of the 2000 Olympics, says she was shocked (shocked!) at her positive drug test.
Um, yeah, I'm sure you were sweetie. Maybe because all the blood cleansing drugs or Gatorade or whatever you took to get it out of your system didn't work.
Jones already had a cloud of suspicion over her for years after being attached to practically every doping scandal in the last few years. My wife, a physical education teacher, was convinced she was doping in 2000 just by looking at her.
"She just doesn't look natural," Kate said.
I, for one, am not shocked, surprised or even the slightest bit stunned when another athlete is caught with his or her hand in the performance-enhancing cookie jar. After Floyd Landis, Justin Gatlin, Barry Bonds, Ivan Basso, etc., etc., etc., I'm so cynical that I'll be shocked when an athlete does something amazing and isn't taking drugs.
Thank God for Tiger Woods, or else my faith in our sports scene right now would cracked into dust.
Um, yeah, I'm sure you were sweetie. Maybe because all the blood cleansing drugs or Gatorade or whatever you took to get it out of your system didn't work.
Jones already had a cloud of suspicion over her for years after being attached to practically every doping scandal in the last few years. My wife, a physical education teacher, was convinced she was doping in 2000 just by looking at her.
"She just doesn't look natural," Kate said.
I, for one, am not shocked, surprised or even the slightest bit stunned when another athlete is caught with his or her hand in the performance-enhancing cookie jar. After Floyd Landis, Justin Gatlin, Barry Bonds, Ivan Basso, etc., etc., etc., I'm so cynical that I'll be shocked when an athlete does something amazing and isn't taking drugs.
Thank God for Tiger Woods, or else my faith in our sports scene right now would cracked into dust.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Reptiles on a runway - A review
Overheard from my friends yesterday as we exited a (mostly empty) theater Friday night showing "Snakes on a Plane."
"So, did you like it?"
"I don't know. It should have been more over the top."
Really?
WARNING! SPOILER ALERT!
In the first half hour, we got to see:
• An angry Korean/Chinese/Japanese "mobster," not to be stereotypical or anything, beat a guy to death with a baseball bat, a la Al Capone.
• A snake bite a woman's eye.
• A snake bite a nipple.
• A snake bite a guy's joint while he was taking a pee pee.
• A snake bit a guy's throat.
• A snake come out of barf bag.
• A snake go up a fat, ugly woman's skirt (of course she was fat and angry, the implication being that this was the first action she'd felt in years).
• A "hip-hop" artist who looked like Kayne West and Puff Daddy's offspring. He would later grab a gun and wave it around because that's the solution to all black people's problems.
• My favorite plot point, though, is the fact that simply by dressing up as a baggage handler, a dude is able to sneak aboard dozens of deadly snakes with a timed release that resembles a bomb attached to a cage aboard a high-security airplane. This, of course, means that all those security measures at the airport? The ones that include, but aren't limited to, taking off your shoes, anal cavity searches, making you take off your pants so you don't get beeped, forcing you to dump your shampoo, your water and your baby's juice, answering questions about whether you've seen your baggage the whole time (and God help you if you answer no) and presenting three forms of ID? Those will all be for naught because of a clever terrorist with a baggage uniform.
Later, we saw:
• A monster snake squeeze a guy to death after crashing through some window in the plane (what the hell it was, I couldn't tell you) and start eating him.
• A little kid somehow survive a cobra bite after a woman puts olive oil on it and suck the poison out (which, by the way, doesn't work).
• Samuel Jackson shoot a snake with a spear gun that just happened to be in a person's suitcase.
• The "snake expert" who looks and acts sort of like the guy who says he killed the little Ramsey.
And at the end:
• One of the rapper's thugs (friendly and fat, of course, because all rappers' homies roll that way) land the plane because he played a plane simulator on his Playstation.
• Samuel Jackson and the other star (sorry, I don't know his name, and I don't care) both hook up with the stewardesses.
• We find out that the snakes came from some redneck guy "who lives in the desert."
• The video to the awesome (I'm serious, I love it) "Snakes on a Plane (Bring It) by, get this, Cobra Starship.
Now, I'm not saying the movie was bad. Quite the opposite. It was what I expected, a cheesy, fun summer movie that featured lots of snakes, my favorite animal.
But it was PLENTY over the top.
I think what happens is when you hear so much about a movie - and lots has been said about this one - you go into it with too many expectations. I'm afraid the new "Star Wars" movies, save for the third one, were victims of this, as my expectations were far too high for what turned out to be fairly decent but not great or even that good pictures.
We all expected this one to be so crazy, so wild, so, well, over the top, that NOTHING probably could have lived up to it without it turning into a parody. And clearly the director, screenwriters, producers and star weren't shooting for a parody. They were shooting for a wild horror flick.
As a rolled out, one of my friends pulled up beside me.
"You remember Tremors?" he said.
Yes, I said.
"THAT'S what the movie should have been. Tremors on a plane!"
He was sort of kidding, but I think I knew what he meant. Tremors was over the top, fun and, as a result, a cult classic with some humor and some thrills. It was, in fact, what "Snakes on a Plane" wanted to be and very well could have been.
Imagine if "Tremors" faced that kind of pressure.
"Snakes," I'm afraid, will be strangled by all the blogs, all the press and the Internet chat groups. Do yourself a favor and wait three years, until it comes on late one night, on the USA Network, when you've got a bowl of popcorn and the kids are in bed, and you've forgotten about all the chat groups.
I promise you'll laugh, you'll jump and you'll think, wow, now THAT movie was over the top!
"So, did you like it?"
"I don't know. It should have been more over the top."
Really?
WARNING! SPOILER ALERT!
In the first half hour, we got to see:
• An angry Korean/Chinese/Japanese "mobster," not to be stereotypical or anything, beat a guy to death with a baseball bat, a la Al Capone.
• A snake bite a woman's eye.
• A snake bite a nipple.
• A snake bite a guy's joint while he was taking a pee pee.
• A snake bit a guy's throat.
• A snake come out of barf bag.
• A snake go up a fat, ugly woman's skirt (of course she was fat and angry, the implication being that this was the first action she'd felt in years).
• A "hip-hop" artist who looked like Kayne West and Puff Daddy's offspring. He would later grab a gun and wave it around because that's the solution to all black people's problems.
• My favorite plot point, though, is the fact that simply by dressing up as a baggage handler, a dude is able to sneak aboard dozens of deadly snakes with a timed release that resembles a bomb attached to a cage aboard a high-security airplane. This, of course, means that all those security measures at the airport? The ones that include, but aren't limited to, taking off your shoes, anal cavity searches, making you take off your pants so you don't get beeped, forcing you to dump your shampoo, your water and your baby's juice, answering questions about whether you've seen your baggage the whole time (and God help you if you answer no) and presenting three forms of ID? Those will all be for naught because of a clever terrorist with a baggage uniform.
Later, we saw:
• A monster snake squeeze a guy to death after crashing through some window in the plane (what the hell it was, I couldn't tell you) and start eating him.
• A little kid somehow survive a cobra bite after a woman puts olive oil on it and suck the poison out (which, by the way, doesn't work).
• Samuel Jackson shoot a snake with a spear gun that just happened to be in a person's suitcase.
• The "snake expert" who looks and acts sort of like the guy who says he killed the little Ramsey.
And at the end:
• One of the rapper's thugs (friendly and fat, of course, because all rappers' homies roll that way) land the plane because he played a plane simulator on his Playstation.
• Samuel Jackson and the other star (sorry, I don't know his name, and I don't care) both hook up with the stewardesses.
• We find out that the snakes came from some redneck guy "who lives in the desert."
• The video to the awesome (I'm serious, I love it) "Snakes on a Plane (Bring It) by, get this, Cobra Starship.
Now, I'm not saying the movie was bad. Quite the opposite. It was what I expected, a cheesy, fun summer movie that featured lots of snakes, my favorite animal.
But it was PLENTY over the top.
I think what happens is when you hear so much about a movie - and lots has been said about this one - you go into it with too many expectations. I'm afraid the new "Star Wars" movies, save for the third one, were victims of this, as my expectations were far too high for what turned out to be fairly decent but not great or even that good pictures.
We all expected this one to be so crazy, so wild, so, well, over the top, that NOTHING probably could have lived up to it without it turning into a parody. And clearly the director, screenwriters, producers and star weren't shooting for a parody. They were shooting for a wild horror flick.
As a rolled out, one of my friends pulled up beside me.
"You remember Tremors?" he said.
Yes, I said.
"THAT'S what the movie should have been. Tremors on a plane!"
He was sort of kidding, but I think I knew what he meant. Tremors was over the top, fun and, as a result, a cult classic with some humor and some thrills. It was, in fact, what "Snakes on a Plane" wanted to be and very well could have been.
Imagine if "Tremors" faced that kind of pressure.
"Snakes," I'm afraid, will be strangled by all the blogs, all the press and the Internet chat groups. Do yourself a favor and wait three years, until it comes on late one night, on the USA Network, when you've got a bowl of popcorn and the kids are in bed, and you've forgotten about all the chat groups.
I promise you'll laugh, you'll jump and you'll think, wow, now THAT movie was over the top!
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Where's my $175,000?
Last night, at our high-stakes, $5, home game Wednesday night, I took a tough beat.
Quads over quads.
It was seven-card stud, five-handed, and there was one wild card.
Maybe the wild card makes it easier to get quads.
I dunno.
At Blackhawk, they pay you $175,000 for the bad beat jackpot if your quads loses to quads.
I'll take my $175,000 now, please. I'll even take installments.
• • •
The good news is I finally wiggled my way out of my tight-assed self and starting bluffing last night. I do bluff, but not nearly as much as I should. The problem is I've been a winning player for months now, so the incentive to take chances wasn't there. Tuesday, however, I got four monsters, like stacking, pot-cleansing monsters, and they were only paid off in pieces. That tells me I need to loosen up a smidge at the table. I am playing a higher limit, $50 NL, so I think the players at least aren't masturbating to porn, texting a friend, petting their dog, watching poker on TV and checking out their fantasy football players while playing poker. They're actually paying attention to table image.
One time I raised one of my best friend's blind for like the 5,000th time that night and bluffed him off the pot despite him saying, "I shouldn't fold here based on principle." I showed him 5,2 os when he folded.
I probably won just as much money through the bluffing as I did through my good hands. I"m still learning how to bluff with regularity, but last night was an important step.
• • •
Last night I ran hard in the track group, and it felt really good. It's so nice to finally be healthy again after three weeks of coughing.
• • •
Snakes on a plane. Friday.
I can't wait.
Quads over quads.
It was seven-card stud, five-handed, and there was one wild card.
Maybe the wild card makes it easier to get quads.
I dunno.
At Blackhawk, they pay you $175,000 for the bad beat jackpot if your quads loses to quads.
I'll take my $175,000 now, please. I'll even take installments.
• • •
The good news is I finally wiggled my way out of my tight-assed self and starting bluffing last night. I do bluff, but not nearly as much as I should. The problem is I've been a winning player for months now, so the incentive to take chances wasn't there. Tuesday, however, I got four monsters, like stacking, pot-cleansing monsters, and they were only paid off in pieces. That tells me I need to loosen up a smidge at the table. I am playing a higher limit, $50 NL, so I think the players at least aren't masturbating to porn, texting a friend, petting their dog, watching poker on TV and checking out their fantasy football players while playing poker. They're actually paying attention to table image.
One time I raised one of my best friend's blind for like the 5,000th time that night and bluffed him off the pot despite him saying, "I shouldn't fold here based on principle." I showed him 5,2 os when he folded.
I probably won just as much money through the bluffing as I did through my good hands. I"m still learning how to bluff with regularity, but last night was an important step.
• • •
Last night I ran hard in the track group, and it felt really good. It's so nice to finally be healthy again after three weeks of coughing.
• • •
Snakes on a plane. Friday.
I can't wait.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Too much is more than enough
In the winter, the weeks without a mountain start to pile on like snow, making me edgy, even cranky. As spring approaches, and the weather delievers blue skies and mild winds but snow still packs the trails, I start to almost crawl up the walls, as if I'm going through heroin withdraw and I've misplaced my methadone.
But now, I have a weekend without climbing, and I can't be more grateful.
I am sick of it all.
This summer was my first guiding clients up mountains, and in some ways, it's sapped the joy out of climbing.
In the past, my summers would consist of doing a few 14ers in June, with maybe a snow climb or two. Then In July I'd climb in Rocky Mountain National Park with my Dad and a few family friends. Finally, I'd wrap up the summer with some epic trips up more 14ers, some of the harder routes, and then relax and wait for the coming year.
It was always hard, at times, but you only really get two or three great months of climbing before the snows hit again, so you have to take advantage.
This summer I took three weekends out of my schedule to lead clients up 14ers. Next Thursday I'll lead a few other paying clients up Longs Peak, the state's most popular 14er (and one of the hardest).
In many ways I'm grateful for the part-time job. It's something I love to do, and I'm getting paid for it. I will use the extra money, around $1,000 (or about as much as it feels like I've lost lately overplaying QQ) to buy a new computer, a MacBook Pro laptop. And I've enjoyed sharing my passion with others and seeing their eyes light up when we reach the summit.
But climbing is hard enough already, and I've discovered that doing it for others has made it a job, and a tough one at that. I'm no longer doing it for myself. I'm doing it for a computer.
So this weekend I cancelled a trip for the Colorado Mountain Club. I'm tired of guiding, and I'm tired of climbing. I plan on being a normal person again, playing some poker (and there are signs that, maybe, I'm doing a little bit too much of that as well), hanging with my wife and the kid and, finally, going to see Snakes on a Plane!!!
Then I'll do the Longs Peak trip, then over to Aspen to help my friends climb the hardest 14er in the state (I'll post pictures of that, you'll be blown away).
I'm looking forward to September for two reasons.
One, I'll be climbing for myself again. I'll try to knock off a couple Centennials for my quest to knock off the top 100 peaks in Colorado. One of those trips, down to the San Juans over several days. should be spectacular.
And second?
By the time mid-September rolls around, the weather will turn colder, the snows will start to fall again...
And I'll be done.
But now, I have a weekend without climbing, and I can't be more grateful.
I am sick of it all.
This summer was my first guiding clients up mountains, and in some ways, it's sapped the joy out of climbing.
In the past, my summers would consist of doing a few 14ers in June, with maybe a snow climb or two. Then In July I'd climb in Rocky Mountain National Park with my Dad and a few family friends. Finally, I'd wrap up the summer with some epic trips up more 14ers, some of the harder routes, and then relax and wait for the coming year.
It was always hard, at times, but you only really get two or three great months of climbing before the snows hit again, so you have to take advantage.
This summer I took three weekends out of my schedule to lead clients up 14ers. Next Thursday I'll lead a few other paying clients up Longs Peak, the state's most popular 14er (and one of the hardest).
In many ways I'm grateful for the part-time job. It's something I love to do, and I'm getting paid for it. I will use the extra money, around $1,000 (or about as much as it feels like I've lost lately overplaying QQ) to buy a new computer, a MacBook Pro laptop. And I've enjoyed sharing my passion with others and seeing their eyes light up when we reach the summit.
But climbing is hard enough already, and I've discovered that doing it for others has made it a job, and a tough one at that. I'm no longer doing it for myself. I'm doing it for a computer.
So this weekend I cancelled a trip for the Colorado Mountain Club. I'm tired of guiding, and I'm tired of climbing. I plan on being a normal person again, playing some poker (and there are signs that, maybe, I'm doing a little bit too much of that as well), hanging with my wife and the kid and, finally, going to see Snakes on a Plane!!!
Then I'll do the Longs Peak trip, then over to Aspen to help my friends climb the hardest 14er in the state (I'll post pictures of that, you'll be blown away).
I'm looking forward to September for two reasons.
One, I'll be climbing for myself again. I'll try to knock off a couple Centennials for my quest to knock off the top 100 peaks in Colorado. One of those trips, down to the San Juans over several days. should be spectacular.
And second?
By the time mid-September rolls around, the weather will turn colder, the snows will start to fall again...
And I'll be done.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Why why why?
Why do we continue to make plays that we know are bad, when we know we are beat, even when that inner voice is screaming at us to just put down the mouse and walk away until you're timed out?
Three reasons.
• We're tired and we don't know it.
Saturday I signed on just expecting to play an hour of poker. I really needed some alone time, and I was looking forward to it after leaving Greeley at 2:30 a.m. and leading my 14ers group up the last mountain of the year. Yes, I seemed tired, but I was really looking forward to the poker.
It was a great day, and I was feeling good. The group responded well despite me having to be much more of a hardass than before because of the inclement weather and the need to get down. We did make the summit up Elbert, Colorado's tallest mountain, and we made it to the van three minutes before a huge storm ripped through Leadville.
Soon after, I got K,A. A guy raised 4x the big blind, and I called, along with one other player. The flop came K,3,Q, with K,3 hearts.
I bet half the pot, $3, and the guy to my left raises, and the other pushes for his last $12.
Understand that all last week, I played patient, solid poker and did not sniff A,K. I barely got any solid starting hands and yet managed to squeak out a $25 profit for the week on the cash games. It was the kind of week I'm proud of, a week that requires great discipline (I folded several hands when I was in the lead until I got a bad feeling on the river, like the guy flopped the kicker I thought he had, giving him two pair and giving it up when he would excitedly overbet the pot) and a week that also means I avoided losing my whole buy-in every time that week.
So what do I do? Do I take the warning sign that my TPTK is not good here? A raise and a re-raise?
No. I call the $12.
It's a great play because what I essentially did was price myself in when the other guy pushed, meaning I had to pay $33 to win $100. Those odds are pretty damn good. I figured I would gamble and pay attention to that. I also now have a lame excuse for losing this hand. And, finally, I gave up all fold equity to the other guy, making him the aggressor.
The raiser had QQ. The re-raiser had K,Q.
I had a losing hand.
I was too tired to play. I was exhausted, in fact, and I let my want (need?) to play poker get the best of me. Had I been sharp, I would have of course recognized that I was beat after I was re-raised and simply folded, saving me a lot of money. It requires discipline to fold TPTK (more than it should, really), and my mind wasn't sharp enough for that. It's why you fuck the ugly girl in the bar when you're drunk. It's hard to turn down a blow job, any blow job, but if you're sharp, you do it when the girl who looks like Spock hits on you.
• You refuse to believe your luck is that bad, even when you know it is.
So Sunday I'm at it again, telling myself that I was going to play smart, disciplined poker, the kind of poker that has helped me fatten my bankroll.
And not long after, I get QQ.
QQ has not been kind to me lately. In fact, if QQ was my wife, I would have divorced her and left her with nothing but the weeds in the backyard. While JJ has been so good, I feel like going "Brokeback Mountain" over it, QQ has been a nasty bitch.
I feel kind bad for her, though, because it's really not her fault. Her ex-husband, KK, has been stalking her.
So I raise 3x the big blind.
And someone re-raises me.
Now, this will sound like incredible whining, the kind of bitching that donkeys do, i.e. "My Aces Always Get Cracked." So you don't have to believe me. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
But four out of the last five times, my QQ has run into KK.
I've kept track.
It's cost me a lot of money. Not my buy-ins every time. But too much money.
When the guy re-raised $1, alarm bells went off. No one seems to re-raise in my level, $50 NL games, unless they have KK or AA.
I called the $1.
And here's what happened:
Texas Hold'em $0.50-$0.50 NL (Real Money), #848,139,803
Table Valparaiso, 13 Aug 2006 10:50 PM ET
Seat 1: Chippsmith ($95.40 in chips)
Seat 2: scottyrob1 ($45.75 in chips)
Seat 3: bloodndef ($71.40 in chips)
Seat 4: prolox29 ($15.85 in chips)
Seat 5: Pokerpeaker5 ($48.75 in chips)
Seat 7: Crow Magnon ($80.75 in chips)
Seat 8: masinnerx ($24.45 in chips)
Seat 9: itchybelly ($7.50 in chips)
Seat 10: steppa30 ($49.65 in chips)
ANTES/BLINDS
scottyrob1 posts blind ($0.25), bloodndef posts blind ($0.50).
PRE-FLOP
prolox29 folds, Pokerpeaker5 bets $1.50, Crow Magnon folds, masinnerx folds, itchybelly folds, steppa30 bets $2.50, Chippsmith folds, scottyrob1 calls $2.25, bloodndef folds, Pokerpeaker5 calls $1.
FLOP [board cards 2S,10D,4D ]
scottyrob1 bets $3, Pokerpeaker5 calls $3, steppa30 bets $10, scottyrob1 folds, Pokerpeaker5 bets $43.25 and is all-in, steppa30 calls $36.25.
TURN [board cards 2S,10D,4D,6S ]
RIVER [board cards 2S,10D,4D,6S,KD ]
SHOWDOWN
Pokerpeaker5 shows [ QS,QC ]
steppa30 shows [ KC,KH ]
steppa30 wins $102.50.
SUMMARY
Dealer: Chippsmith
Pot: $103.50, (including rake: $1)
Chippsmith, loses $0
scottyrob1, loses $5.50
bloodndef, loses $0.50
prolox29, loses $0
Pokerpeaker5, loses $48.75
Crow Magnon, loses $0
masinnerx, loses $0
itchybelly, loses $0
steppa30, bets $48.75, collects $102.50, net $53.75
Yes, for the fifth time in six QQs, it ran into KK.
I refused to believe that my luck was that bad. "There's NO WAY my QQ could run into KK again, right? I mean, he MUST have JJ. He MUST. There's just no way, right?"
Sure there is.
• Bad luck
I'm not going whine about my QQ anymore. In fact, I just demonstrated that it happens.
But I've noticed that when variance comes knocking, and she is this week, in full force, that not only do your great hands go down, your monsters don't get paid off.
Suckouts like this one happen all the time in a losing streak:
View Previous hand for this table.
Texas Hold'em $0.50-$0.50 NL (Real Money), #848,243,884
Table Giessen, 13 Aug 2006 11:20 PM ET
Seat 1: cleensweep ($17.75 in chips)
Seat 2: steve_albini ($51.85 in chips)
Seat 3: Chippsmith ($57.30 in chips)
Seat 4: Skip_Dr ($49.30 in chips)
Seat 5: turbox3 ($32.50 in chips)
Seat 6: Pokerpeaker5 ($47.50 in chips)
Seat 7: Cr3d ($30 in chips)
Seat 8: pm_abs ($68 in chips)
Seat 9: FloppinNutzz ($47 in chips)
Seat 10: newf01 ($24.85 in chips)
ANTES/BLINDS
Pokerpeaker5 posts blind ($0.25), Cr3d posts blind ($0.50).
PRE-FLOP
pm_abs folds, FloppinNutzz folds, newf01 folds, cleensweep calls $0.50, steve_albini calls $0.50, Chippsmith folds, Skip_Dr folds, turbox3 calls $0.50, Pokerpeaker5 bets $2, Cr3d folds, cleensweep folds, steve_albini folds, turbox3 calls $1.75.
FLOP [board cards 5S,9S,4S ]
Pokerpeaker5 bets $2, turbox3 calls $2.
TURN [board cards 5S,9S,4S,10D ]
Pokerpeaker5 bets $10, turbox3 calls $10.
RIVER [board cards 5S,9S,4S,10D,3H ]
Pokerpeaker5 checks, turbox3 checks.
SHOWDOWN
Pokerpeaker5 shows [ AH,AC ]
turbox3 shows [ 9H,9C ]
turbox3 wins $29.
SUMMARY
Dealer: turbox3
Pot: $30, (including rake: $1)
cleensweep, loses $0.50
steve_albini, loses $0.50
Chippsmith, loses $0
Skip_Dr, loses $0
turbox3, bets $14.25, collects $29, net $14.75
Pokerpeaker5, loses $14.25
Cr3d, loses $0.50
pm_abs, loses $0
FloppinNutzz, loses $0
newf01, loses $0
But that's poker. I played it well, checked on the river and saved some money. So OK.
But I would like some hands to be paid off. When I get AA a second time that night, I would like at least one caller to my raise of 4xs, please.
When I get quad 9s, as I did TWO hands after my QQ disaster, and there are five people in the hand, I would like action from at least one player, please.
When I flop a set of 6s, as I did TWO hands after my AA suckout, and there are four people in the hand, I would like action from at least one player, please.
And no, I'm not shoving when I get these hands. I'm betting half the pot each time.
Am I making excuses? Am I playing poorly? Or are there a number of factors at play here that are combining to possibly start me on a long-term losing streak?
I'm not sure. But the storm clouds are starting to swirl overhead. I just hope I can get to treeline safely before the real storm hits.
Three reasons.
• We're tired and we don't know it.
Saturday I signed on just expecting to play an hour of poker. I really needed some alone time, and I was looking forward to it after leaving Greeley at 2:30 a.m. and leading my 14ers group up the last mountain of the year. Yes, I seemed tired, but I was really looking forward to the poker.
It was a great day, and I was feeling good. The group responded well despite me having to be much more of a hardass than before because of the inclement weather and the need to get down. We did make the summit up Elbert, Colorado's tallest mountain, and we made it to the van three minutes before a huge storm ripped through Leadville.
Soon after, I got K,A. A guy raised 4x the big blind, and I called, along with one other player. The flop came K,3,Q, with K,3 hearts.
I bet half the pot, $3, and the guy to my left raises, and the other pushes for his last $12.
Understand that all last week, I played patient, solid poker and did not sniff A,K. I barely got any solid starting hands and yet managed to squeak out a $25 profit for the week on the cash games. It was the kind of week I'm proud of, a week that requires great discipline (I folded several hands when I was in the lead until I got a bad feeling on the river, like the guy flopped the kicker I thought he had, giving him two pair and giving it up when he would excitedly overbet the pot) and a week that also means I avoided losing my whole buy-in every time that week.
So what do I do? Do I take the warning sign that my TPTK is not good here? A raise and a re-raise?
No. I call the $12.
It's a great play because what I essentially did was price myself in when the other guy pushed, meaning I had to pay $33 to win $100. Those odds are pretty damn good. I figured I would gamble and pay attention to that. I also now have a lame excuse for losing this hand. And, finally, I gave up all fold equity to the other guy, making him the aggressor.
The raiser had QQ. The re-raiser had K,Q.
I had a losing hand.
I was too tired to play. I was exhausted, in fact, and I let my want (need?) to play poker get the best of me. Had I been sharp, I would have of course recognized that I was beat after I was re-raised and simply folded, saving me a lot of money. It requires discipline to fold TPTK (more than it should, really), and my mind wasn't sharp enough for that. It's why you fuck the ugly girl in the bar when you're drunk. It's hard to turn down a blow job, any blow job, but if you're sharp, you do it when the girl who looks like Spock hits on you.
• You refuse to believe your luck is that bad, even when you know it is.
So Sunday I'm at it again, telling myself that I was going to play smart, disciplined poker, the kind of poker that has helped me fatten my bankroll.
And not long after, I get QQ.
QQ has not been kind to me lately. In fact, if QQ was my wife, I would have divorced her and left her with nothing but the weeds in the backyard. While JJ has been so good, I feel like going "Brokeback Mountain" over it, QQ has been a nasty bitch.
I feel kind bad for her, though, because it's really not her fault. Her ex-husband, KK, has been stalking her.
So I raise 3x the big blind.
And someone re-raises me.
Now, this will sound like incredible whining, the kind of bitching that donkeys do, i.e. "My Aces Always Get Cracked." So you don't have to believe me. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
But four out of the last five times, my QQ has run into KK.
I've kept track.
It's cost me a lot of money. Not my buy-ins every time. But too much money.
When the guy re-raised $1, alarm bells went off. No one seems to re-raise in my level, $50 NL games, unless they have KK or AA.
I called the $1.
And here's what happened:
Texas Hold'em $0.50-$0.50 NL (Real Money), #848,139,803
Table Valparaiso, 13 Aug 2006 10:50 PM ET
Seat 1: Chippsmith ($95.40 in chips)
Seat 2: scottyrob1 ($45.75 in chips)
Seat 3: bloodndef ($71.40 in chips)
Seat 4: prolox29 ($15.85 in chips)
Seat 5: Pokerpeaker5 ($48.75 in chips)
Seat 7: Crow Magnon ($80.75 in chips)
Seat 8: masinnerx ($24.45 in chips)
Seat 9: itchybelly ($7.50 in chips)
Seat 10: steppa30 ($49.65 in chips)
ANTES/BLINDS
scottyrob1 posts blind ($0.25), bloodndef posts blind ($0.50).
PRE-FLOP
prolox29 folds, Pokerpeaker5 bets $1.50, Crow Magnon folds, masinnerx folds, itchybelly folds, steppa30 bets $2.50, Chippsmith folds, scottyrob1 calls $2.25, bloodndef folds, Pokerpeaker5 calls $1.
FLOP [board cards 2S,10D,4D ]
scottyrob1 bets $3, Pokerpeaker5 calls $3, steppa30 bets $10, scottyrob1 folds, Pokerpeaker5 bets $43.25 and is all-in, steppa30 calls $36.25.
TURN [board cards 2S,10D,4D,6S ]
RIVER [board cards 2S,10D,4D,6S,KD ]
SHOWDOWN
Pokerpeaker5 shows [ QS,QC ]
steppa30 shows [ KC,KH ]
steppa30 wins $102.50.
SUMMARY
Dealer: Chippsmith
Pot: $103.50, (including rake: $1)
Chippsmith, loses $0
scottyrob1, loses $5.50
bloodndef, loses $0.50
prolox29, loses $0
Pokerpeaker5, loses $48.75
Crow Magnon, loses $0
masinnerx, loses $0
itchybelly, loses $0
steppa30, bets $48.75, collects $102.50, net $53.75
Yes, for the fifth time in six QQs, it ran into KK.
I refused to believe that my luck was that bad. "There's NO WAY my QQ could run into KK again, right? I mean, he MUST have JJ. He MUST. There's just no way, right?"
Sure there is.
• Bad luck
I'm not going whine about my QQ anymore. In fact, I just demonstrated that it happens.
But I've noticed that when variance comes knocking, and she is this week, in full force, that not only do your great hands go down, your monsters don't get paid off.
Suckouts like this one happen all the time in a losing streak:
View Previous hand for this table.
Texas Hold'em $0.50-$0.50 NL (Real Money), #848,243,884
Table Giessen, 13 Aug 2006 11:20 PM ET
Seat 1: cleensweep ($17.75 in chips)
Seat 2: steve_albini ($51.85 in chips)
Seat 3: Chippsmith ($57.30 in chips)
Seat 4: Skip_Dr ($49.30 in chips)
Seat 5: turbox3 ($32.50 in chips)
Seat 6: Pokerpeaker5 ($47.50 in chips)
Seat 7: Cr3d ($30 in chips)
Seat 8: pm_abs ($68 in chips)
Seat 9: FloppinNutzz ($47 in chips)
Seat 10: newf01 ($24.85 in chips)
ANTES/BLINDS
Pokerpeaker5 posts blind ($0.25), Cr3d posts blind ($0.50).
PRE-FLOP
pm_abs folds, FloppinNutzz folds, newf01 folds, cleensweep calls $0.50, steve_albini calls $0.50, Chippsmith folds, Skip_Dr folds, turbox3 calls $0.50, Pokerpeaker5 bets $2, Cr3d folds, cleensweep folds, steve_albini folds, turbox3 calls $1.75.
FLOP [board cards 5S,9S,4S ]
Pokerpeaker5 bets $2, turbox3 calls $2.
TURN [board cards 5S,9S,4S,10D ]
Pokerpeaker5 bets $10, turbox3 calls $10.
RIVER [board cards 5S,9S,4S,10D,3H ]
Pokerpeaker5 checks, turbox3 checks.
SHOWDOWN
Pokerpeaker5 shows [ AH,AC ]
turbox3 shows [ 9H,9C ]
turbox3 wins $29.
SUMMARY
Dealer: turbox3
Pot: $30, (including rake: $1)
cleensweep, loses $0.50
steve_albini, loses $0.50
Chippsmith, loses $0
Skip_Dr, loses $0
turbox3, bets $14.25, collects $29, net $14.75
Pokerpeaker5, loses $14.25
Cr3d, loses $0.50
pm_abs, loses $0
FloppinNutzz, loses $0
newf01, loses $0
But that's poker. I played it well, checked on the river and saved some money. So OK.
But I would like some hands to be paid off. When I get AA a second time that night, I would like at least one caller to my raise of 4xs, please.
When I get quad 9s, as I did TWO hands after my QQ disaster, and there are five people in the hand, I would like action from at least one player, please.
When I flop a set of 6s, as I did TWO hands after my AA suckout, and there are four people in the hand, I would like action from at least one player, please.
And no, I'm not shoving when I get these hands. I'm betting half the pot each time.
Am I making excuses? Am I playing poorly? Or are there a number of factors at play here that are combining to possibly start me on a long-term losing streak?
I'm not sure. But the storm clouds are starting to swirl overhead. I just hope I can get to treeline safely before the real storm hits.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Rebirth
I'm in a running group, and we meet every Wednesday to do intervals. If you're not sure what an interval is, you run a short distance very hard, until you're close to puking, and then you do it again and again. It's funny how five two-minute runs can make you much faster than running for 45 minutes, but it works wonders.
Last night we ran the mile to gauge our progress. Despite being coughy and kinda sick for two weeks, I managed to run 6:16, which is my best time ever in the mile. I once ran 6:20 when I was in the eighth grade. That was more than 20 years ago.
I'm very proud of the time.
I don't know if I'm in the best shape of my life, but I'm learning how to push past the pain and, yes, even agony, of running really hard for minutes or miles at a time. I'm learning that it's OK to run along the margin, even if you're close to falling off (or puking on it).
I'm leading my 14ers group up Elbert, Colorado's tallest mountain. It's a long, hard, steep day, though it's also easy, in the sense that a dirt trail leads all the way to the summit.
I hope that this time the group starts to push its own margins as we slowly make our way up Saturday.
Last night we ran the mile to gauge our progress. Despite being coughy and kinda sick for two weeks, I managed to run 6:16, which is my best time ever in the mile. I once ran 6:20 when I was in the eighth grade. That was more than 20 years ago.
I'm very proud of the time.
I don't know if I'm in the best shape of my life, but I'm learning how to push past the pain and, yes, even agony, of running really hard for minutes or miles at a time. I'm learning that it's OK to run along the margin, even if you're close to falling off (or puking on it).
I'm leading my 14ers group up Elbert, Colorado's tallest mountain. It's a long, hard, steep day, though it's also easy, in the sense that a dirt trail leads all the way to the summit.
I hope that this time the group starts to push its own margins as we slowly make our way up Saturday.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Cracking the casino
Saturday at Black Hawk, CO went well again. I played for four hours and made about $50.
The world of Colorado poker is a wild one and probably not much different than what you're used to regarding casino poker and the craziness of it. The only game in town is $2/$5, and almost all of it is Hold 'Em. This was only my second time playing, but I think I've watched enough to make some observations about limit poker in casinos, at least in our state.
I played in the Ameristar Casino this time, and I loved it. The room is now smoke free, which is wonderful, and the tables are nice and clean. I had to wait about 15 minutes for a table at 7 p.m. Saturday.
Most of the bigger casinos have latched on to the poker craze and now offer 10 tables spreading Hold 'Em.
I tend to play an extremely tight game, especially compared to most of the other players, which means, in my mind, I'm playing correctly. In fact, by the end of the night, many of the regulars were making fun of me, saying "You can't wait for AA all night."
I play this way because:
• Generally at least five are in a hand, so you'd better be starting with something you can work with. Here's a hint: Q,8 is not something you can work with, unless it's soooooted, and even then, you're playing a hand and calling bets hoping for that less than 5 percent chance you'll wind up with a flush.
• You'll start to get respect from the other players at the table, meaning your bets will do what they are supposed to, remove players from the field. This is extremely important, as a $5 maximum bet won't get rid of anyone unless they believe you are betting the nuts or close to it, and if you don't thin the field, someone will outdraw you unless you are indeed holding the nuts and are impervious to drawing hands.
• Even if it is $2/$5 poker, you'll spend about $20 a hand that you take to the river if play it correctly, meaning you've got to pick your battles or else wind up like 80 percent of the players out there, $100/$200 down in an hour.
• You'll still get action. Yes, you might play one hand an hour, and yet people will still call you down with third pair. Why? I believe most people play limit poker in Casinos for entertainment, not to win money or improve their game, and it's more fun to play a lot of hands than fold, fold, fold like I did. That's why they play K,8 offsuit.
I love those players. Most of the time.
Here are some other observations:
• AA in limit poker is like the Vegas hooker with the big cans and a bit of what AC/DC affectionally calls "The Jack." It's alluring, sensual and soooo appealing, until you play with it and get stuck with a sour feeling down there and some of your money gone.
I saw AA hold up three times all around the table in my four hours, and one of those times, I was holding them. I bet the maxium pre-flop and it got folded around to me. Unless you flop a set, "made" hands don't seem to be as valuable as drawing hands in limit poker. I would have finished about $100 up had my AA not lost to 9,7 soooted when she spiked her flush on the river.
She did apologize.
Leading me to...
• Suckouts happen all the time in limit. There's too many other damn hands out there, and even a $5 raise pre-flop may not narrow the field that much. The best thing to do is bet your hands hard off the flop if you have something and hope it holds up. I suffered two of them, the other when a guy's 9,9 caught his Q on the river for a straight, crushing my two pair.
The amazing thing is, it's CORRECT for these people to call, even with merely a draw. In limit, most of the time they're getting at least 10-1 on their money after the flop. When that woman called my raise with 9,7 sooted and my A,A, she was getting at least 3:1 on her money pre-flop and far beyond that post-flop.
Knowing this, I wasn't steaming at all when my A,A lost to her hand, and as a result I promptly won a big hand with Q,J. The Poker Gods reward clear thinking.
After all...
• You'll get lucky, too. It evened out. I had 6,5 (soooted connectors, a valuable hand in limit) and flopped two pair. I raised but the guy called for his gutshot and hit it on the turn. I knew he hit it but called his bet and got another 5 on the river. I also flopped two sets with my small pairs and both times when I had A,K a K-high flop hit.
• Get out when you don't hit. Hello, people, A,K is a drawing hand, meaning you shouldn't call $20 worth of bets if it doesn't hit.
• After watching so many lose at least $100, you'll never convince me that tight isn't right in limit.
P.S. Come on out here, we'll play sometime, and then we'll go hiking the next day!
The world of Colorado poker is a wild one and probably not much different than what you're used to regarding casino poker and the craziness of it. The only game in town is $2/$5, and almost all of it is Hold 'Em. This was only my second time playing, but I think I've watched enough to make some observations about limit poker in casinos, at least in our state.
I played in the Ameristar Casino this time, and I loved it. The room is now smoke free, which is wonderful, and the tables are nice and clean. I had to wait about 15 minutes for a table at 7 p.m. Saturday.
Most of the bigger casinos have latched on to the poker craze and now offer 10 tables spreading Hold 'Em.
I tend to play an extremely tight game, especially compared to most of the other players, which means, in my mind, I'm playing correctly. In fact, by the end of the night, many of the regulars were making fun of me, saying "You can't wait for AA all night."
I play this way because:
• Generally at least five are in a hand, so you'd better be starting with something you can work with. Here's a hint: Q,8 is not something you can work with, unless it's soooooted, and even then, you're playing a hand and calling bets hoping for that less than 5 percent chance you'll wind up with a flush.
• You'll start to get respect from the other players at the table, meaning your bets will do what they are supposed to, remove players from the field. This is extremely important, as a $5 maximum bet won't get rid of anyone unless they believe you are betting the nuts or close to it, and if you don't thin the field, someone will outdraw you unless you are indeed holding the nuts and are impervious to drawing hands.
• Even if it is $2/$5 poker, you'll spend about $20 a hand that you take to the river if play it correctly, meaning you've got to pick your battles or else wind up like 80 percent of the players out there, $100/$200 down in an hour.
• You'll still get action. Yes, you might play one hand an hour, and yet people will still call you down with third pair. Why? I believe most people play limit poker in Casinos for entertainment, not to win money or improve their game, and it's more fun to play a lot of hands than fold, fold, fold like I did. That's why they play K,8 offsuit.
I love those players. Most of the time.
Here are some other observations:
• AA in limit poker is like the Vegas hooker with the big cans and a bit of what AC/DC affectionally calls "The Jack." It's alluring, sensual and soooo appealing, until you play with it and get stuck with a sour feeling down there and some of your money gone.
I saw AA hold up three times all around the table in my four hours, and one of those times, I was holding them. I bet the maxium pre-flop and it got folded around to me. Unless you flop a set, "made" hands don't seem to be as valuable as drawing hands in limit poker. I would have finished about $100 up had my AA not lost to 9,7 soooted when she spiked her flush on the river.
She did apologize.
Leading me to...
• Suckouts happen all the time in limit. There's too many other damn hands out there, and even a $5 raise pre-flop may not narrow the field that much. The best thing to do is bet your hands hard off the flop if you have something and hope it holds up. I suffered two of them, the other when a guy's 9,9 caught his Q on the river for a straight, crushing my two pair.
The amazing thing is, it's CORRECT for these people to call, even with merely a draw. In limit, most of the time they're getting at least 10-1 on their money after the flop. When that woman called my raise with 9,7 sooted and my A,A, she was getting at least 3:1 on her money pre-flop and far beyond that post-flop.
Knowing this, I wasn't steaming at all when my A,A lost to her hand, and as a result I promptly won a big hand with Q,J. The Poker Gods reward clear thinking.
After all...
• You'll get lucky, too. It evened out. I had 6,5 (soooted connectors, a valuable hand in limit) and flopped two pair. I raised but the guy called for his gutshot and hit it on the turn. I knew he hit it but called his bet and got another 5 on the river. I also flopped two sets with my small pairs and both times when I had A,K a K-high flop hit.
• Get out when you don't hit. Hello, people, A,K is a drawing hand, meaning you shouldn't call $20 worth of bets if it doesn't hit.
• After watching so many lose at least $100, you'll never convince me that tight isn't right in limit.
P.S. Come on out here, we'll play sometime, and then we'll go hiking the next day!
Pimping myself
It's hard at times to tell from this blog, but I'm a writer for a living, working for the Greeley Tribune in Greeley, CO. I'd love if you checked out a project I spent four months working on, off and on, including some of the Web stuff that accompanies the story.
Feedback is appreciated.
Here's the project
Feedback is appreciated.
Here's the project
Friday, August 04, 2006
Bad Beat Template
P.S. I'm playing in a casino for the second time tonight. Let's hope I don't have to use this.
Take a tough one? Here's my handy-dandy template that you can use for any situation!!!
"You won't believe the:
a) Bad Beat
b) Suckout
c) Rigged shit
that happened to me last night.
I had:
a) Pocket Aces
b) Pocket Kings
c) A,K
and I raised 3x the big blind. I get three callers. This concerns me a little but I
a) Plow through it. I'm a God of poker, after all. How could I lose?
b) Know I can fold when I need to. I'm a God of poker, after all.
c) am a God of poker and know I'm the best, so I move along.
The flop comes A,K,x, and I bet the pot. Two others fold, but the
a) Fucking Donkey
b) Fucking Retard
c) Fucking Idiot
calls me. A x comes on the turn. Naturally, I bet the pot again.
The
a) Fucking Donkey/Mule/Llama
b) Fucking Retarded retard
c) Fucking Poker rookie
calls me again.
On the river, A x falls. It worries me a bit, because:
a) It could have made the guy a straight.
b) It could have made the guy a flush.
c) He's been calling me down, and that always worries me.
But I push all in, because:
a) The straight would mean he would have been playing x,x, and that's impossible, no one would call a raise with x,x, right?
b) No one would call two pot-sized bets with just a flush-draw, right?
c) I am a Poker god and I always have the best hand when I push in.
The guy calls, and:
a) You'll never guess what the donkey had!
b) It's Enema time!
c) I scream and throw my fourth computer this year out the window.
He had:
a) Quads! He called my pre-flop raise and all the way to the river with x,x and caught his case card on the river!!!
b) A straight! He called my pre-flop raise and all the way to the river with x,x and caught his inside straight on the river!!!
c) A flush! He called my pre-flop raise with x,x and all the way to the river with my pot-sized bets with x,x because it was soooted!!!
I was so pissed I
a) Raked the guy over the coals in the chat box for 25 minutes.
b) Killed the dog/cat/small children.
c) Went for a long drive with Slayer in the tape deck.
I:
a) Hate poker.
b) Am gonna start entering Scrabble tournaments
c) Will try again tonight to win my money back, and I'm gonna have to keep pushing all in because I am a God of poker
By the way, can I:
a) Borrow $20 for tonight?
b) Borrow your car and put it on E-bay to sell it?
c) Use your wife as a hooker so I can pimp her and get my money back?
(Not recommended for Seven-Card Stud, Omaha or Five-Card Draw. Do not use frequently as your friends may hate you. May cause drowsiness, erectile disfunction or lose of appetite. Women who are nursing, pregnant or may become pregnant should not listen to these stories. If you use this for more than a few days tell your doctor, as serious side effects or dependency may develop).
Take a tough one? Here's my handy-dandy template that you can use for any situation!!!
"You won't believe the:
a) Bad Beat
b) Suckout
c) Rigged shit
that happened to me last night.
I had:
a) Pocket Aces
b) Pocket Kings
c) A,K
and I raised 3x the big blind. I get three callers. This concerns me a little but I
a) Plow through it. I'm a God of poker, after all. How could I lose?
b) Know I can fold when I need to. I'm a God of poker, after all.
c) am a God of poker and know I'm the best, so I move along.
The flop comes A,K,x, and I bet the pot. Two others fold, but the
a) Fucking Donkey
b) Fucking Retard
c) Fucking Idiot
calls me. A x comes on the turn. Naturally, I bet the pot again.
The
a) Fucking Donkey/Mule/Llama
b) Fucking Retarded retard
c) Fucking Poker rookie
calls me again.
On the river, A x falls. It worries me a bit, because:
a) It could have made the guy a straight.
b) It could have made the guy a flush.
c) He's been calling me down, and that always worries me.
But I push all in, because:
a) The straight would mean he would have been playing x,x, and that's impossible, no one would call a raise with x,x, right?
b) No one would call two pot-sized bets with just a flush-draw, right?
c) I am a Poker god and I always have the best hand when I push in.
The guy calls, and:
a) You'll never guess what the donkey had!
b) It's Enema time!
c) I scream and throw my fourth computer this year out the window.
He had:
a) Quads! He called my pre-flop raise and all the way to the river with x,x and caught his case card on the river!!!
b) A straight! He called my pre-flop raise and all the way to the river with x,x and caught his inside straight on the river!!!
c) A flush! He called my pre-flop raise with x,x and all the way to the river with my pot-sized bets with x,x because it was soooted!!!
I was so pissed I
a) Raked the guy over the coals in the chat box for 25 minutes.
b) Killed the dog/cat/small children.
c) Went for a long drive with Slayer in the tape deck.
I:
a) Hate poker.
b) Am gonna start entering Scrabble tournaments
c) Will try again tonight to win my money back, and I'm gonna have to keep pushing all in because I am a God of poker
By the way, can I:
a) Borrow $20 for tonight?
b) Borrow your car and put it on E-bay to sell it?
c) Use your wife as a hooker so I can pimp her and get my money back?
(Not recommended for Seven-Card Stud, Omaha or Five-Card Draw. Do not use frequently as your friends may hate you. May cause drowsiness, erectile disfunction or lose of appetite. Women who are nursing, pregnant or may become pregnant should not listen to these stories. If you use this for more than a few days tell your doctor, as serious side effects or dependency may develop).
Thursday, August 03, 2006
These are a few of my favorite things
• Favorite music to listen to while playing poker: Hair Nation on Sirius.
• Favorite hand: JJ.
I know AA should be, but I've had much better luck with these bad boys. They may be a little gay: They like each other and always seem to show up on the flop when I have a pair of these Brokeback lovers in my hand.
• Least favorite hand: QQ. Hard to fold but a lot seems to beat it; at least, it always seems that way when I hold these bitches.
• Favorite poker snack: Queso. With chips. Although near the end of the night my finger works too.
• Favorite poker drink: Mike's Hard Lemonade. No, you bastard, these are NOT wine coolers.
• Favorite poker munchie: Lemonheads. If you time it just right, you get a tiny squirt of lemon sour stuff when you bite into them. There's probably a metaphor there but I don't want to get into it.
• Favorite poker activity besides playing poker while playing poker: Screwing around on the Internet, including reading climbing forums, blogs and other newspapers.
• Favorite thing to do besides playing poker that doesn't involve the family: My name is pokerpeaker. So climbing peaks.
• Favorite TV show, all time: The Simpsons.
• Favorite TV show, current: Poker, as sad as that sounds.
• Favorite poker show: High Stakes Poker, although I do love the WSOP coverage as well.
• Favorite player: I don't really have one. There are dozens I like and admire.
• Favorite author: Stephen King. There are many other writers I admire, probably more than King, actually, but King always is a good read.
• Favorite poker author: James McManus wrote the best read, "Positively Fifth Street," but Dan Harrington wrote the best books. They helped me with my cash game a great deal, too, even if he wrote for tournaments.
• Movie I can't wait to see: "Snakes on a Plane"
• Favorite movie: "Star Wars." Duh.
• Favorite poker movie: "Rounders." Double duh.
Movie of the week: "Brokeback Mountain." You have to see this movie. Yes, I realize the love scenes aren't as fun to watch as, say, girl on girl with a bottle of honey, but the acting and directing is some of the finest you'll ever see.
Song of the week: "Snakes on a Plane (Bring It) by Cobra Starship. Loud. Obnoxious. Cheesy. Perfect.
• Favorite hand: JJ.
I know AA should be, but I've had much better luck with these bad boys. They may be a little gay: They like each other and always seem to show up on the flop when I have a pair of these Brokeback lovers in my hand.
• Least favorite hand: QQ. Hard to fold but a lot seems to beat it; at least, it always seems that way when I hold these bitches.
• Favorite poker snack: Queso. With chips. Although near the end of the night my finger works too.
• Favorite poker drink: Mike's Hard Lemonade. No, you bastard, these are NOT wine coolers.
• Favorite poker munchie: Lemonheads. If you time it just right, you get a tiny squirt of lemon sour stuff when you bite into them. There's probably a metaphor there but I don't want to get into it.
• Favorite poker activity besides playing poker while playing poker: Screwing around on the Internet, including reading climbing forums, blogs and other newspapers.
• Favorite thing to do besides playing poker that doesn't involve the family: My name is pokerpeaker. So climbing peaks.
• Favorite TV show, all time: The Simpsons.
• Favorite TV show, current: Poker, as sad as that sounds.
• Favorite poker show: High Stakes Poker, although I do love the WSOP coverage as well.
• Favorite player: I don't really have one. There are dozens I like and admire.
• Favorite author: Stephen King. There are many other writers I admire, probably more than King, actually, but King always is a good read.
• Favorite poker author: James McManus wrote the best read, "Positively Fifth Street," but Dan Harrington wrote the best books. They helped me with my cash game a great deal, too, even if he wrote for tournaments.
• Movie I can't wait to see: "Snakes on a Plane"
• Favorite movie: "Star Wars." Duh.
• Favorite poker movie: "Rounders." Double duh.
Movie of the week: "Brokeback Mountain." You have to see this movie. Yes, I realize the love scenes aren't as fun to watch as, say, girl on girl with a bottle of honey, but the acting and directing is some of the finest you'll ever see.
Song of the week: "Snakes on a Plane (Bring It) by Cobra Starship. Loud. Obnoxious. Cheesy. Perfect.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Ain't no cure for the summertime hack'n'wheeze
I'm in full whine mode now after hacking, lung-rattling and blowing my nose for what seems like the 155th day in a row.
Really, summer is no time to be fucking sick. I've got mountains to climb, races to run and babies to chase (namely, my own), and noses just seem to run like mountain streams when it's 100 degrees.
Also, it's hard to play solid poker with a stuffy head.
As if to prove it, I'm still trying to dig out of the Saturday Night Massacre. Last night was a good start, cutting the losses for the week by a fourth, most of it earned when some dude called by 8x BB raise with KK (no fucking around anymore, if I take the pot, then fine) and then pushed all in on a Q-high random board. I called for his last $15 and he had....Q,J.
At least I have those poker fairies to dump some money on me and help me recoup my losses.
Speaking of climbing, I'm taking the week off to earn some brownie/anniversary points with the wife. Saturday the wife and I will have a nice dinner together and then hit up Colorado's casinos deep in mountain country. So I guess I can't get away from the mountains. It will be my second time playing poker in a casino, and it's all $2/5 limit, so the only thing you can do is bet your hands hard and hope you don't get sucked out on by the five others playing 8,3 os. Last time it worked well. I hope it does again.
I was seriously hoping Snakes on a Plane would open this weekend so I could see it, but I guess I may have to settle for Clerks II. I've got mountains to climb the next three weekends in a row, so please don't spoil the surprise ending of SOAP for me.
I've decided to put some ads on this blog. I'm not all uppty. I'll pimp myself for money. Daddy needs a new bankroll! Actually, as these are refferals, I'll probably be lucky to get enough money to cover a pack of diapers. But now that I'm getting linked more, I've noticed more people stopping by to check me out. Thanks tons for that.
I may have to break down and take some more cold medicine. I'm trying to avoid dumping the entire contents of Walgreen's in my bloodstream — that's what Mike's Hard Lemonade is for — but I may just have to do it, or else I think my co-workers are gonna kill me to silence my hacking, wheezing and, ultimately, whining.
Really, summer is no time to be fucking sick. I've got mountains to climb, races to run and babies to chase (namely, my own), and noses just seem to run like mountain streams when it's 100 degrees.
Also, it's hard to play solid poker with a stuffy head.
As if to prove it, I'm still trying to dig out of the Saturday Night Massacre. Last night was a good start, cutting the losses for the week by a fourth, most of it earned when some dude called by 8x BB raise with KK (no fucking around anymore, if I take the pot, then fine) and then pushed all in on a Q-high random board. I called for his last $15 and he had....Q,J.
At least I have those poker fairies to dump some money on me and help me recoup my losses.
Speaking of climbing, I'm taking the week off to earn some brownie/anniversary points with the wife. Saturday the wife and I will have a nice dinner together and then hit up Colorado's casinos deep in mountain country. So I guess I can't get away from the mountains. It will be my second time playing poker in a casino, and it's all $2/5 limit, so the only thing you can do is bet your hands hard and hope you don't get sucked out on by the five others playing 8,3 os. Last time it worked well. I hope it does again.
I was seriously hoping Snakes on a Plane would open this weekend so I could see it, but I guess I may have to settle for Clerks II. I've got mountains to climb the next three weekends in a row, so please don't spoil the surprise ending of SOAP for me.
I've decided to put some ads on this blog. I'm not all uppty. I'll pimp myself for money. Daddy needs a new bankroll! Actually, as these are refferals, I'll probably be lucky to get enough money to cover a pack of diapers. But now that I'm getting linked more, I've noticed more people stopping by to check me out. Thanks tons for that.
I may have to break down and take some more cold medicine. I'm trying to avoid dumping the entire contents of Walgreen's in my bloodstream — that's what Mike's Hard Lemonade is for — but I may just have to do it, or else I think my co-workers are gonna kill me to silence my hacking, wheezing and, ultimately, whining.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Pressing the button over and over
You've seen the video of the rat that presses that shock button because he was given a niblet, an orgasm or a pocket pair until he shocks himself to death?
I haven't seen the pocket pair video, actually, but I'm assuming one is out there because that's what I did to my bankroll Saturday night.
QQ, QQ, JJ, JJ and KK cost me a lot of money Saturday night, almost every bit of my $125 takedown from Thursday night.
I don't have the hand histories here. They're embarassing, anyway, and I've already analyzed them to death.
Both times my QQ lost to KK. My JJ wasn't too bad, but it still lost a pot, and the second time when I flopped a third J and bet half the pot it got NO ACTION at all.
When I got KK? Another harmless board, the guy got his third 7 and took me down.
The problem with pocket pairs is they're just so damn exotic. They look so sexy, so magnetic...er, anyway, they really do look great, like 70s velvet great or something. And in online poker, when TPTK gets pushed a lot, they're golden.
Or so it seems. Many times it's easy to push with them and get rewarded by freaks who can't let go of A,Q with a Q-high board. Trust me, it's how I won one of my big hands Thursday.
And yet, eventually, pushing with a pocket will give you nothing but a shock. No orgasm, no pellet, just a smack in the face and your bankroll whimpering in the corner, sucking its thumb and shying away from your touch.
It's basically a guessing game, with all these new players jumping in and out, to know when that pellet will arrive and when the shock will come.
Do I dare resist the pocket pair push before I shock myself to death?
I haven't seen the pocket pair video, actually, but I'm assuming one is out there because that's what I did to my bankroll Saturday night.
QQ, QQ, JJ, JJ and KK cost me a lot of money Saturday night, almost every bit of my $125 takedown from Thursday night.
I don't have the hand histories here. They're embarassing, anyway, and I've already analyzed them to death.
Both times my QQ lost to KK. My JJ wasn't too bad, but it still lost a pot, and the second time when I flopped a third J and bet half the pot it got NO ACTION at all.
When I got KK? Another harmless board, the guy got his third 7 and took me down.
The problem with pocket pairs is they're just so damn exotic. They look so sexy, so magnetic...er, anyway, they really do look great, like 70s velvet great or something. And in online poker, when TPTK gets pushed a lot, they're golden.
Or so it seems. Many times it's easy to push with them and get rewarded by freaks who can't let go of A,Q with a Q-high board. Trust me, it's how I won one of my big hands Thursday.
And yet, eventually, pushing with a pocket will give you nothing but a shock. No orgasm, no pellet, just a smack in the face and your bankroll whimpering in the corner, sucking its thumb and shying away from your touch.
It's basically a guessing game, with all these new players jumping in and out, to know when that pellet will arrive and when the shock will come.
Do I dare resist the pocket pair push before I shock myself to death?
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Quads to the rescue! (Beeeeches)
View Previous hand for this table.
Texas Hold'em $0.50-$0.50 NL (Real Money), #767,613,317
Table La Plata, 27 Jul 2006 12:35 AM ET
Seat 1: DaveG11111 ($47.50 in chips)
Seat 2: CODYVALENCE ($47.20 in chips)
Seat 3: illteachu5 ($57.70 in chips)
Seat 4: mattnespoli ($58.30 in chips)
Seat 5: McDougal. ($15.75 in chips)
Seat 6: AlexMR ($46.25 in chips)
Seat 7: weistronaut ($47 in chips)
Seat 8: Pokerpeaker5 ($48.50 in chips)
Seat 9: TheHalfSame ($50 in chips)
Seat 10: rggrady3 ($58.50 in chips)
ANTES/BLINDS
Pokerpeaker5 posts blind ($0.25), TheHalfSame posts blind ($0.50).
PRE-FLOP
rggrady3 folds, DaveG11111 folds, CODYVALENCE calls $0.50, illteachu5 calls $0.50, mattnespoli calls $0.50, McDougal. folds, AlexMR folds, weistronaut calls $0.50, Pokerpeaker5 calls $0.25, TheHalfSame checks.
FLOP [board cards 6D,AH,6S ]
Pokerpeaker5 checks, TheHalfSame checks, CODYVALENCE checks, illteachu5 checks, mattnespoli checks, weistronaut checks.
TURN [board cards 6D,AH,6S,2C ]
Pokerpeaker5 bets $0.50, TheHalfSame bets $3, CODYVALENCE bets $5.50, illteachu5 folds, mattnespoli folds, weistronaut folds, Pokerpeaker5 calls $5, TheHalfSame calls $2.50.
RIVER [board cards 6D,AH,6S,2C,2S ]
Pokerpeaker5 bets $2, TheHalfSame calls $2, CODYVALENCE bets $41.20 and is all-in, Pokerpeaker5 bets $40.50 and is all-in, TheHalfSame folds.
SHOWDOWN
Pokerpeaker5 shows [ 2D,2H ]
CODYVALENCE shows [ AC,AS ]
Pokerpeaker5 wins $1.30, Pokerpeaker5 wins $102.90.
SUMMARY
Dealer: weistronaut
Pot: $105.20, (including rake: $1)
DaveG11111, loses $0
CODYVALENCE, loses $47.20
illteachu5, loses $0.50
mattnespoli, loses $0.50
McDougal., loses $0
AlexMR, loses $0
weistronaut, loses $0.50
Pokerpeaker5, bets $48.50, collects $104.20, net $55.70
TheHalfSame, loses $8
rggrady3, loses $0
That's why you never slowplay Aces and why you maybe should bet even your full house with more than one other player in the hand.
He let me get lucky.
Boy, did I.
We now return you to your reguarly scheduled writing.
Texas Hold'em $0.50-$0.50 NL (Real Money), #767,613,317
Table La Plata, 27 Jul 2006 12:35 AM ET
Seat 1: DaveG11111 ($47.50 in chips)
Seat 2: CODYVALENCE ($47.20 in chips)
Seat 3: illteachu5 ($57.70 in chips)
Seat 4: mattnespoli ($58.30 in chips)
Seat 5: McDougal. ($15.75 in chips)
Seat 6: AlexMR ($46.25 in chips)
Seat 7: weistronaut ($47 in chips)
Seat 8: Pokerpeaker5 ($48.50 in chips)
Seat 9: TheHalfSame ($50 in chips)
Seat 10: rggrady3 ($58.50 in chips)
ANTES/BLINDS
Pokerpeaker5 posts blind ($0.25), TheHalfSame posts blind ($0.50).
PRE-FLOP
rggrady3 folds, DaveG11111 folds, CODYVALENCE calls $0.50, illteachu5 calls $0.50, mattnespoli calls $0.50, McDougal. folds, AlexMR folds, weistronaut calls $0.50, Pokerpeaker5 calls $0.25, TheHalfSame checks.
FLOP [board cards 6D,AH,6S ]
Pokerpeaker5 checks, TheHalfSame checks, CODYVALENCE checks, illteachu5 checks, mattnespoli checks, weistronaut checks.
TURN [board cards 6D,AH,6S,2C ]
Pokerpeaker5 bets $0.50, TheHalfSame bets $3, CODYVALENCE bets $5.50, illteachu5 folds, mattnespoli folds, weistronaut folds, Pokerpeaker5 calls $5, TheHalfSame calls $2.50.
RIVER [board cards 6D,AH,6S,2C,2S ]
Pokerpeaker5 bets $2, TheHalfSame calls $2, CODYVALENCE bets $41.20 and is all-in, Pokerpeaker5 bets $40.50 and is all-in, TheHalfSame folds.
SHOWDOWN
Pokerpeaker5 shows [ 2D,2H ]
CODYVALENCE shows [ AC,AS ]
Pokerpeaker5 wins $1.30, Pokerpeaker5 wins $102.90.
SUMMARY
Dealer: weistronaut
Pot: $105.20, (including rake: $1)
DaveG11111, loses $0
CODYVALENCE, loses $47.20
illteachu5, loses $0.50
mattnespoli, loses $0.50
McDougal., loses $0
AlexMR, loses $0
weistronaut, loses $0.50
Pokerpeaker5, bets $48.50, collects $104.20, net $55.70
TheHalfSame, loses $8
rggrady3, loses $0
That's why you never slowplay Aces and why you maybe should bet even your full house with more than one other player in the hand.
He let me get lucky.
Boy, did I.
We now return you to your reguarly scheduled writing.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Knowing when to fold 'em
The hardest thing for me to do in life is relax.
That doesn't mean I have ADD or jump around the house like a chipmunk on meth (or, as my current analogy fits better, a 1-year-old on a popscicle rush), but I can't sit on the couch all day and all night.
I can't allow myself much of a break.
I need to keep busy.
So when I got up at 2 a.m. Monday, facing my longest and toughest climb this year, and I felt a scratch in my throat, I blew it off, thinking it was no big deal, that I could still do 17 miles and gain more than a mile straight up.
It turned out to be one of the toughest days I've had in years.
I should have realized that as our leaders set the pace about the same as the Daytona 500 of hiking, as if we were park rangers and four climbers were hanging by their shoelaces off a ledge and needed our help. By the time we reached the base of the mountain, I was whipped and in need of food.
Instead, we scaled up a trough so treacherous that two rocks whipped by, one of them whizzing as if Randy Johnson had thrown it at my head. I ducked just in time, showing off my reflexes developed by pitching in slow-lob softball these last four years.
By the time we got near the summit, I was pulling a Floyd Landis, falling several minutes behind the leader, only there would be no Landis-like comeback. I crawled to the summit, shoved five Oreo cookies in my mouth, downed a bottle a Gatorade and tried to prepare for Longs, 1,000 feet straight up away.
The food helped enough to push me to keep up, and by the time we got off Longs and back to the trail that would lead us to our car, six miles away, I was feeling OK.
And then it started raining.
And then it started pouring.
And then...
Flash
BOOOOOOM!
There are many things about mountaineering that do not scare me. Heights? The cold? Rocks flying like fastballs at my head?
That's part of the deal. But lightning? And knowing that you are the tallest thing above treeline and therefore a target?
That scares the hell out of me.
For a half an hour, I prayed to the Gods that they wouldn't send a bolt my way. I've been good, I said, not chasing my draws when I don't have the odds, taking that first pitch in softball and giving my kid and wife a kiss every night.
It seemed to work. The storm cleared, and we had a wet but calm three miles down to the car and food, a hot shower and dry clothes.
When I got home, I started shivering. Must be the cold rain, I thought.
Nope.
That tickle in my throat turned out be a 101 fever. I was sick with a cough.
So I was supposed to go hiking Friday before I led another group up the mountains Saturday for my 14ers group.
But I'm not going.
I'm taking it easy.
I'm relaxing.
Sometimes, you just have to know when you're beat.
Sometimes you have to fold 'em.
Song of the week: "The Illusionist" by Scar Symentery - Good, brutal metal with a catchy chorus. My favorite.
Movie of the week: "Shopgirl" starring Pot Committed, aka Claire Daines. This clever tale bombs out at the end, but the acting and story are too cute to not watch this.
That doesn't mean I have ADD or jump around the house like a chipmunk on meth (or, as my current analogy fits better, a 1-year-old on a popscicle rush), but I can't sit on the couch all day and all night.
I can't allow myself much of a break.
I need to keep busy.
So when I got up at 2 a.m. Monday, facing my longest and toughest climb this year, and I felt a scratch in my throat, I blew it off, thinking it was no big deal, that I could still do 17 miles and gain more than a mile straight up.
It turned out to be one of the toughest days I've had in years.
I should have realized that as our leaders set the pace about the same as the Daytona 500 of hiking, as if we were park rangers and four climbers were hanging by their shoelaces off a ledge and needed our help. By the time we reached the base of the mountain, I was whipped and in need of food.
Instead, we scaled up a trough so treacherous that two rocks whipped by, one of them whizzing as if Randy Johnson had thrown it at my head. I ducked just in time, showing off my reflexes developed by pitching in slow-lob softball these last four years.
By the time we got near the summit, I was pulling a Floyd Landis, falling several minutes behind the leader, only there would be no Landis-like comeback. I crawled to the summit, shoved five Oreo cookies in my mouth, downed a bottle a Gatorade and tried to prepare for Longs, 1,000 feet straight up away.
The food helped enough to push me to keep up, and by the time we got off Longs and back to the trail that would lead us to our car, six miles away, I was feeling OK.
And then it started raining.
And then it started pouring.
And then...
Flash
BOOOOOOM!
There are many things about mountaineering that do not scare me. Heights? The cold? Rocks flying like fastballs at my head?
That's part of the deal. But lightning? And knowing that you are the tallest thing above treeline and therefore a target?
That scares the hell out of me.
For a half an hour, I prayed to the Gods that they wouldn't send a bolt my way. I've been good, I said, not chasing my draws when I don't have the odds, taking that first pitch in softball and giving my kid and wife a kiss every night.
It seemed to work. The storm cleared, and we had a wet but calm three miles down to the car and food, a hot shower and dry clothes.
When I got home, I started shivering. Must be the cold rain, I thought.
Nope.
That tickle in my throat turned out be a 101 fever. I was sick with a cough.
So I was supposed to go hiking Friday before I led another group up the mountains Saturday for my 14ers group.
But I'm not going.
I'm taking it easy.
I'm relaxing.
Sometimes, you just have to know when you're beat.
Sometimes you have to fold 'em.
Song of the week: "The Illusionist" by Scar Symentery - Good, brutal metal with a catchy chorus. My favorite.
Movie of the week: "Shopgirl" starring Pot Committed, aka Claire Daines. This clever tale bombs out at the end, but the acting and story are too cute to not watch this.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Hiking with my father
For the first time in several years, I was on a summit with my father today.
It felt good.
I missed it.
Dad was the inspiration, the engine and the driving force behind my moutaineering hobby/obsession. For many years after my first summit of Longs Peak, perhaps Colorado's most climbed mountain (and one of its hardest), when I was 15, we visited dozens of summits together, even taking a trip to Washington to climb Rainier together in 1994 and again in 1997, when we spent a week on the mountain in the winter.
Things change, as they always do, but this is not a story about me getting older and finding my own way. Dad got divorced and then remarried to a younger woman (don't roll your eyes, it's not one of THOSE) who had three young children. He then had a baby with her, at age 60 (please, no comments about how his trout must be still swimming upstream, I've heard them all), and that wiped out pretty much all the climbing we had together.
Dad, in fact, stopped working out because he's now too busy carting the kids to soccer, baseball, etc.
The life choices hurt me a bit, but I didn't begrudge him too much. It was, after all, his decision, and he still managed to make it known that I was an important part of his life.
It's possible, without delving into some serious psycho therapy (yes, the pun is intended, because with me that's what it would be) beyond this blog, that his decision to stop climbing with me because he was too busy lit a fire under me, pushing me to complete all 54 14ers in five years, something that usually a climber 15 or 20 years, if they do it at all (and most don't). Maybe I was saying, OK, fine, I can do it on my own, just watch me. It turned out to be one of the best things I've ever done, right behind having a child and getting married (deciding to play poker falls right behind the 14ers).
I don't know if it will ever be the same again. He's 65 now, so even if he did work out, something he still doesn't do, he'd be slow and probably unable to do the epic stuff we used to tackle. He even took the wrong way down, which was my usual move before he moved on, and, in a sense, so did I. He's still got it, but he's got it in the sense that an aging NFL player still can take the field without embarassing himself but may not score many TDS anymore.
Still, Saturday was special. I got up at 3 a.m., drove up to our meeting place, absorbed his jokes about my morning attitude (which is grouchy and sour, if you must ask). We talked about work, laughed about our kids and got into a bit of his tour in Vietnam, something we hardly ever discuss.
You may not be able to go home again, unless home is a summit. For many years, it was. It was nice to sit on that front porch once again.
It felt good.
I missed it.
Dad was the inspiration, the engine and the driving force behind my moutaineering hobby/obsession. For many years after my first summit of Longs Peak, perhaps Colorado's most climbed mountain (and one of its hardest), when I was 15, we visited dozens of summits together, even taking a trip to Washington to climb Rainier together in 1994 and again in 1997, when we spent a week on the mountain in the winter.
Things change, as they always do, but this is not a story about me getting older and finding my own way. Dad got divorced and then remarried to a younger woman (don't roll your eyes, it's not one of THOSE) who had three young children. He then had a baby with her, at age 60 (please, no comments about how his trout must be still swimming upstream, I've heard them all), and that wiped out pretty much all the climbing we had together.
Dad, in fact, stopped working out because he's now too busy carting the kids to soccer, baseball, etc.
The life choices hurt me a bit, but I didn't begrudge him too much. It was, after all, his decision, and he still managed to make it known that I was an important part of his life.
It's possible, without delving into some serious psycho therapy (yes, the pun is intended, because with me that's what it would be) beyond this blog, that his decision to stop climbing with me because he was too busy lit a fire under me, pushing me to complete all 54 14ers in five years, something that usually a climber 15 or 20 years, if they do it at all (and most don't). Maybe I was saying, OK, fine, I can do it on my own, just watch me. It turned out to be one of the best things I've ever done, right behind having a child and getting married (deciding to play poker falls right behind the 14ers).
I don't know if it will ever be the same again. He's 65 now, so even if he did work out, something he still doesn't do, he'd be slow and probably unable to do the epic stuff we used to tackle. He even took the wrong way down, which was my usual move before he moved on, and, in a sense, so did I. He's still got it, but he's got it in the sense that an aging NFL player still can take the field without embarassing himself but may not score many TDS anymore.
Still, Saturday was special. I got up at 3 a.m., drove up to our meeting place, absorbed his jokes about my morning attitude (which is grouchy and sour, if you must ask). We talked about work, laughed about our kids and got into a bit of his tour in Vietnam, something we hardly ever discuss.
You may not be able to go home again, unless home is a summit. For many years, it was. It was nice to sit on that front porch once again.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Home Alone
OK, I'm a bachelor.
No, the wife and the baba did not die in a fireball plane crash. She went to Salina, Kan., which is almost as bad, seeing as how it's about 157 degrees there, or about six degrees cooler than here, with the only difference being that it's also humid there, pushing something called the heat index to about 187 degrees.
Every year Kate's family travels to western Kansas, which is about as bad as it sounds, to visit her grandmother, watch a demolition derby and try to dodge violent, tornado-spawning thunderstorms. The highlight of the four days is a chicken dinner, and while this is a highlight because it's the best damn chicken dinner you've ever had, it's not worth four days of mall-walking, sweating and mosquito slapping.
Why am I so bitter? I worked in Salina for almost five years at the Salina Journal (sorry, no link, it's not worth it), and while I did enjoy the experience there — the city does have its merits, including a fluffy artistic side, meaning 4,000 out of 40,000 came to see our initial production of Shakespeare in the Park, which was a blast — it's still western Kansas.
That means the outdoors activities offered there include hiking on a crappy lake trail in 100-degree, humidity-splashed weather, biking on a thin highway with 18-wheelers storming by or fishing. I have no problem with fishing, I even support it and write about it, but it's just not my thing, kind of like hunting or crossword puzzles.
Colorado has mountains, which pretty much ends the competition right there.
So I'm at home, alone, and you might think this means I am sitting around the house in my underwear, the dogs licking waffle syrup off my bare chest, while I sing "I wear short shorts." Nope. I'll be in the mountains, of course.
I'm climbing Friday, hiking Saturday (for work, actually, ha ha ha sometimes being an outdoor/adventure writer is even better than covering the WSOP) and probably doing something epic Monday with my longtime hiking partner.
Despite this smorgasboard of high-altitude debauchery, I'll approach the next few days with a heavy heart.
I'll miss my little guy.
I never thought it would be possible that I would value family over mountain climbing, but it's happened, I'm a full-blown Dad now and wish I had my little guy with me. I fear that by the time he gets back, on Monday, he'll be saying his first few words, and not one of them will be, "Da Da." (He does say "Ma Ma," but he says that when he wants food, probably just a result of three months of breastfeeding; when Kate was thrilled that that was basically his first word, I reminded her that he basically sees her as a refrigerator).
I'll have fun these next few days, but I may, in fact, be happiest when I get updates from Kate in Salina.
• • •
I'm on the biggest rush of my life on the poker front. I know it seems to be much more fun to bitch about bad beats these days, but I've increased my total bankroll by a third just this month, up to more than $1,000 for the first time in my life. This may not seem like a lot to you, who play in the Big Game and call off $1,500 bets when you've got eight outs, but for me, it's a lot of money, and I'm thrilled.
The light is shining bright in my dark tunnel that is poker knowledge, and the game could not be more fun at this point.
I'm picking off bluffs regularly, I seem to know what my opponent has more and more and continue to drag big pots despite continuing to play extremely tight and only occassionally aggressive.
More and more, I'm convinced that erring on the side of careful play is much better than erring on the side of aggression, at least online at the levels I play. If that means I leave $50 out there, as I did twice last week, then so be it. I've also had one losing month in my last nine, and limiting your losses is the key to plumping up your wins.
And if you think I'm throwing the doom switch down, well, I'm not because ironically I'm on the worst streak of my life playing those $2.25 Hollywood Poker, full-table tournaments at work during my lunch break. I've cashed something like 3/15 in the last two weeks, with more suckouts than I care to recount (9,6 versus my A,Q is my current favorite against a jerky luckbox who claimed he was 11 in the chat box and certainly acted and played like it).
My theory is all my bad luck is going there, leaving me with either neutral luck or good luck when I play those cash games in the evening. I've moved up to playing .50 NL about 85 percent of the time now; I'll stay there until things start to inevitably go bad.
That's the sad thing about a long, extended winning streak; you're always looking for that piano above your head.
• • •
Song of the week: "Throw It All Away" by Zero 7. A great band releases a new album, a departure (a writer's nice way of saying, "not as good as their other albums," but this song rules.
Movie of the week: "Little Fish." Great performances by Hugo Weaving and Cate Blanchett pushes this mediocre movie into three-star terriority.
No, the wife and the baba did not die in a fireball plane crash. She went to Salina, Kan., which is almost as bad, seeing as how it's about 157 degrees there, or about six degrees cooler than here, with the only difference being that it's also humid there, pushing something called the heat index to about 187 degrees.
Every year Kate's family travels to western Kansas, which is about as bad as it sounds, to visit her grandmother, watch a demolition derby and try to dodge violent, tornado-spawning thunderstorms. The highlight of the four days is a chicken dinner, and while this is a highlight because it's the best damn chicken dinner you've ever had, it's not worth four days of mall-walking, sweating and mosquito slapping.
Why am I so bitter? I worked in Salina for almost five years at the Salina Journal (sorry, no link, it's not worth it), and while I did enjoy the experience there — the city does have its merits, including a fluffy artistic side, meaning 4,000 out of 40,000 came to see our initial production of Shakespeare in the Park, which was a blast — it's still western Kansas.
That means the outdoors activities offered there include hiking on a crappy lake trail in 100-degree, humidity-splashed weather, biking on a thin highway with 18-wheelers storming by or fishing. I have no problem with fishing, I even support it and write about it, but it's just not my thing, kind of like hunting or crossword puzzles.
Colorado has mountains, which pretty much ends the competition right there.
So I'm at home, alone, and you might think this means I am sitting around the house in my underwear, the dogs licking waffle syrup off my bare chest, while I sing "I wear short shorts." Nope. I'll be in the mountains, of course.
I'm climbing Friday, hiking Saturday (for work, actually, ha ha ha sometimes being an outdoor/adventure writer is even better than covering the WSOP) and probably doing something epic Monday with my longtime hiking partner.
Despite this smorgasboard of high-altitude debauchery, I'll approach the next few days with a heavy heart.
I'll miss my little guy.
I never thought it would be possible that I would value family over mountain climbing, but it's happened, I'm a full-blown Dad now and wish I had my little guy with me. I fear that by the time he gets back, on Monday, he'll be saying his first few words, and not one of them will be, "Da Da." (He does say "Ma Ma," but he says that when he wants food, probably just a result of three months of breastfeeding; when Kate was thrilled that that was basically his first word, I reminded her that he basically sees her as a refrigerator).
I'll have fun these next few days, but I may, in fact, be happiest when I get updates from Kate in Salina.
• • •
I'm on the biggest rush of my life on the poker front. I know it seems to be much more fun to bitch about bad beats these days, but I've increased my total bankroll by a third just this month, up to more than $1,000 for the first time in my life. This may not seem like a lot to you, who play in the Big Game and call off $1,500 bets when you've got eight outs, but for me, it's a lot of money, and I'm thrilled.
The light is shining bright in my dark tunnel that is poker knowledge, and the game could not be more fun at this point.
I'm picking off bluffs regularly, I seem to know what my opponent has more and more and continue to drag big pots despite continuing to play extremely tight and only occassionally aggressive.
More and more, I'm convinced that erring on the side of careful play is much better than erring on the side of aggression, at least online at the levels I play. If that means I leave $50 out there, as I did twice last week, then so be it. I've also had one losing month in my last nine, and limiting your losses is the key to plumping up your wins.
And if you think I'm throwing the doom switch down, well, I'm not because ironically I'm on the worst streak of my life playing those $2.25 Hollywood Poker, full-table tournaments at work during my lunch break. I've cashed something like 3/15 in the last two weeks, with more suckouts than I care to recount (9,6 versus my A,Q is my current favorite against a jerky luckbox who claimed he was 11 in the chat box and certainly acted and played like it).
My theory is all my bad luck is going there, leaving me with either neutral luck or good luck when I play those cash games in the evening. I've moved up to playing .50 NL about 85 percent of the time now; I'll stay there until things start to inevitably go bad.
That's the sad thing about a long, extended winning streak; you're always looking for that piano above your head.
• • •
Song of the week: "Throw It All Away" by Zero 7. A great band releases a new album, a departure (a writer's nice way of saying, "not as good as their other albums," but this song rules.
Movie of the week: "Little Fish." Great performances by Hugo Weaving and Cate Blanchett pushes this mediocre movie into three-star terriority.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Don't know what you got...
My wife poked me awake at 6:30 a.m. I opened one miserable eye and saw my son smiling down at me.
"It's time for your day with Dad!" Kate chirped at him.
Grunt. I spent Thursday mountain climbing, and so, of course, what do you think I did far too late Thursday night instead of getting the sleep I needed for my day with a 1-year-old who has the energy of an Olympic Decathlete or meth addict on a Twinkie rush, take your pick.
You already know. The cards are right in front of you.
Heh.
Anyway, I rolled out of bed as Kate grabbed her bags and said her tearful goodbye.
Yeah, it's always rough to leave WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO VEGAS.
Yep. I'm home with the little man for the weekend while Kate goes to Vegas with her sister and some friends for some much-needed me time. They're all staying in the same room. And get that nasty thought out of your head. Shame on you.
So that meant, for me, every minute, every hour, all day, with Jayden, the baby whose batteries run out about as often as a Quartz watch.
Whew. I'm exhausted as I write this, at 10:30 p.m., while playing me some poker and listening to the baby monitor.
Kate deserves the vacation. She's a great mother who sees nothing wrong with getting up five times a night and spending most of her free time chasing him around and picking up the little piles he always leaves behind him. I call it his Path of Destruction, but Kate prefers to refer to it as the "price of exploration." Moms always were more positive.
Plus, in the summer, Dan's usually about me me me with all the climbing I do, even if that has slowed down since he was born. Prime climbing season basically lasts three months, when most of the snow is gone from the peaks, so I need to take advantage while I can. You can go all year, and I do, at times, but of course it's easier without -30 degree weather and snow up to your waist. Imagine getting to play with fish for three months and play with Phil Ivey the rest of the time. You'd pick the fish too. Oh, yes, you would.
One of the things I love about mountain climbing is it forces you to appreciate the small things. You don't really don't love your shower, your pillow and your fatty double cheesburgers until you're force to eat trail mix all day, sleep in a tent and go without showers for a couple of days (hell, even after a day-long climb, that shower feels pretty damn good).
And as I'm sitting here, exhausted and feeling like I just climbed a mountain after the day with Jayden, I've learned to appreciate the small things that I haven't appreciated lately:
• The day was bright, sunny and hot. A typical July summer day. And yet these last two weeks have been crammed with clouds, storms and sort of a crappy, misty cold that made it either impossible to climb or downright miserable. But July is back, and yesterday, I climbed Half Mountain in Rocky Mountain National Park with a longtime partner to bright, sunny, blue skies without even a hint of those nasty storms that have made life difficult for hikers this year. I even got sunburned on my neck. Last week, as I slogged through a hike with my 14ers group in Fort Collins in clouds and mist and rain so thick I needed a foghorn, I would have killed and eaten a marmot for a sunburn.
• Wow. The wife does a lot to keep our house running smoothly. Every day, in the summer when she's off from teaching, she watches the little guy every day.
• A pool. Greeley built us a new recreation center, complete with a water play area, a moving river, a baby pool with cool small fountains that squirt up (crack for 1-year-olds, Jayden stood there and stared at it like it was Quad Aces for about 20 minutes) and an awesome slide for, uh, the kids (and adventure-minded Dads who aren't above standing in line with 12-year-olds and even running up the stairs to beat them to ride first, but that's just what I observed, I wouldn't, of course, know otherwise what I was talking about). The city built that sucker just in time. Jayden gets to visit a great pool whenever he wants.
(Side note: I used to DESPISE Adult Swim when I was a kid, but now I LOVE it. That's right, you, the little fucker who's done nothing but squirt me and Jayden with that little gun in the adventure area. Sit your bratty ass down while I stay in, ha ha ha you little shit).
The point is the neighborhood pool when I was growing up was a great place to spend the summer, but I was worried he wouldn't get to experience that. No worries, mate, as Joseph Hachem says. That was the perfect afternoon activity today to keep the Baby from Getting Bored. I actually got him down at 7:30 p.m. tonight. I think it wore the little guy out, which is about the same level as the Miracle on Ice or catching your case A to beat a straight flush.
• Finally, this got me thinking. This is why we really need to defeat that damn poker/gambling legislation in Washington.
I really love online poker.
And I don't, one day, want to be sitting upstairs, wishing I should have appreciated it more while it was still around.
P.S. Any Cinderella fans out there? Hair metal is SUCH an underappreciated art form.
"It's time for your day with Dad!" Kate chirped at him.
Grunt. I spent Thursday mountain climbing, and so, of course, what do you think I did far too late Thursday night instead of getting the sleep I needed for my day with a 1-year-old who has the energy of an Olympic Decathlete or meth addict on a Twinkie rush, take your pick.
You already know. The cards are right in front of you.
Heh.
Anyway, I rolled out of bed as Kate grabbed her bags and said her tearful goodbye.
Yeah, it's always rough to leave WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO VEGAS.
Yep. I'm home with the little man for the weekend while Kate goes to Vegas with her sister and some friends for some much-needed me time. They're all staying in the same room. And get that nasty thought out of your head. Shame on you.
So that meant, for me, every minute, every hour, all day, with Jayden, the baby whose batteries run out about as often as a Quartz watch.
Whew. I'm exhausted as I write this, at 10:30 p.m., while playing me some poker and listening to the baby monitor.
Kate deserves the vacation. She's a great mother who sees nothing wrong with getting up five times a night and spending most of her free time chasing him around and picking up the little piles he always leaves behind him. I call it his Path of Destruction, but Kate prefers to refer to it as the "price of exploration." Moms always were more positive.
Plus, in the summer, Dan's usually about me me me with all the climbing I do, even if that has slowed down since he was born. Prime climbing season basically lasts three months, when most of the snow is gone from the peaks, so I need to take advantage while I can. You can go all year, and I do, at times, but of course it's easier without -30 degree weather and snow up to your waist. Imagine getting to play with fish for three months and play with Phil Ivey the rest of the time. You'd pick the fish too. Oh, yes, you would.
One of the things I love about mountain climbing is it forces you to appreciate the small things. You don't really don't love your shower, your pillow and your fatty double cheesburgers until you're force to eat trail mix all day, sleep in a tent and go without showers for a couple of days (hell, even after a day-long climb, that shower feels pretty damn good).
And as I'm sitting here, exhausted and feeling like I just climbed a mountain after the day with Jayden, I've learned to appreciate the small things that I haven't appreciated lately:
• The day was bright, sunny and hot. A typical July summer day. And yet these last two weeks have been crammed with clouds, storms and sort of a crappy, misty cold that made it either impossible to climb or downright miserable. But July is back, and yesterday, I climbed Half Mountain in Rocky Mountain National Park with a longtime partner to bright, sunny, blue skies without even a hint of those nasty storms that have made life difficult for hikers this year. I even got sunburned on my neck. Last week, as I slogged through a hike with my 14ers group in Fort Collins in clouds and mist and rain so thick I needed a foghorn, I would have killed and eaten a marmot for a sunburn.
• Wow. The wife does a lot to keep our house running smoothly. Every day, in the summer when she's off from teaching, she watches the little guy every day.
• A pool. Greeley built us a new recreation center, complete with a water play area, a moving river, a baby pool with cool small fountains that squirt up (crack for 1-year-olds, Jayden stood there and stared at it like it was Quad Aces for about 20 minutes) and an awesome slide for, uh, the kids (and adventure-minded Dads who aren't above standing in line with 12-year-olds and even running up the stairs to beat them to ride first, but that's just what I observed, I wouldn't, of course, know otherwise what I was talking about). The city built that sucker just in time. Jayden gets to visit a great pool whenever he wants.
(Side note: I used to DESPISE Adult Swim when I was a kid, but now I LOVE it. That's right, you, the little fucker who's done nothing but squirt me and Jayden with that little gun in the adventure area. Sit your bratty ass down while I stay in, ha ha ha you little shit).
The point is the neighborhood pool when I was growing up was a great place to spend the summer, but I was worried he wouldn't get to experience that. No worries, mate, as Joseph Hachem says. That was the perfect afternoon activity today to keep the Baby from Getting Bored. I actually got him down at 7:30 p.m. tonight. I think it wore the little guy out, which is about the same level as the Miracle on Ice or catching your case A to beat a straight flush.
• Finally, this got me thinking. This is why we really need to defeat that damn poker/gambling legislation in Washington.
I really love online poker.
And I don't, one day, want to be sitting upstairs, wishing I should have appreciated it more while it was still around.
P.S. Any Cinderella fans out there? Hair metal is SUCH an underappreciated art form.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
I'm honored
Oops.
First, bless you, TripJax, for putting this little blog in your white-hot spotlight. And I can't wait to put that banner above the blog. Man, is it cool.
And, of course, TripJax features me just as I spew forth my angriest, politicalist, bloggiest post yet. I was pissed, and blogging seems to be the cure for that, even better than smashing the little itty-bitty ants that seem to be invading my basement bathroom.
I have many people to thank for the muses (Change), the bruises (Felicia) and the schmoozes (Questy), but mostly, I have to thank TripJax, who stopped by early and often to comment on my blog and tell me to keep it up. Look to the right for the best of the best. They are my inspiration.
I will, I promise, keep it up and try to match the writing on this blog with my writing as a journalist. Here what you'll read about me if you continue to stop by:
• Yes, I'm a bit liberal, but for the most part I stay away from Rush-like rants on politics. This is supposed to be about life, poker and fun, not a weak imitation of talk radio. I won't shy away from that if I feel the need, especially if our politicos tend to keep picking on poker, but I rarely feel the need.
• My son, Jayden, is 1 and gives me and Kate our biggest adventure to date. You'll get to hear about the Continued Rampages of Jayden. Those with kids can relate. Those without can thank me for helping control the Earth's population.
• Poker. Yes, of course, poker, and what's better is I don't play $1,500 NL every night, as many of you seem to play. I play $5.50 SnGs and .50 NL. I am, as they say, low limit. So for those of you starting out, you'll get some good advice here. For those of you who played poker in Mum's womb, well, you can laugh and remember when.
• Mountain climbing and running. My other passions. Peaking. I've climbed mountains since I was 14, way before I started playing poker, so you'll get your fill, especially in the summer, when climbing season peaks, sorry for the pun.
• Life. I'm not as good as interspersing life as, say, Joe Speaker, but then again, who is? I'll do my best.
Thank you once again.
I must go now.
I've got a mountain to climb.
First, bless you, TripJax, for putting this little blog in your white-hot spotlight. And I can't wait to put that banner above the blog. Man, is it cool.
And, of course, TripJax features me just as I spew forth my angriest, politicalist, bloggiest post yet. I was pissed, and blogging seems to be the cure for that, even better than smashing the little itty-bitty ants that seem to be invading my basement bathroom.
I have many people to thank for the muses (Change), the bruises (Felicia) and the schmoozes (Questy), but mostly, I have to thank TripJax, who stopped by early and often to comment on my blog and tell me to keep it up. Look to the right for the best of the best. They are my inspiration.
I will, I promise, keep it up and try to match the writing on this blog with my writing as a journalist. Here what you'll read about me if you continue to stop by:
• Yes, I'm a bit liberal, but for the most part I stay away from Rush-like rants on politics. This is supposed to be about life, poker and fun, not a weak imitation of talk radio. I won't shy away from that if I feel the need, especially if our politicos tend to keep picking on poker, but I rarely feel the need.
• My son, Jayden, is 1 and gives me and Kate our biggest adventure to date. You'll get to hear about the Continued Rampages of Jayden. Those with kids can relate. Those without can thank me for helping control the Earth's population.
• Poker. Yes, of course, poker, and what's better is I don't play $1,500 NL every night, as many of you seem to play. I play $5.50 SnGs and .50 NL. I am, as they say, low limit. So for those of you starting out, you'll get some good advice here. For those of you who played poker in Mum's womb, well, you can laugh and remember when.
• Mountain climbing and running. My other passions. Peaking. I've climbed mountains since I was 14, way before I started playing poker, so you'll get your fill, especially in the summer, when climbing season peaks, sorry for the pun.
• Life. I'm not as good as interspersing life as, say, Joe Speaker, but then again, who is? I'll do my best.
Thank you once again.
I must go now.
I've got a mountain to climb.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Play your 7,2 os while you can
Fuck you, Republicans.
I can't tell you how many times I've said that in my life. But now I'm pissed.
Look, prevent gays from marrying all you want, even though it's an incredible and just plain asinine waste of time and energy. And if you want to pick away at abortion, well, fine, whatever, let's just hope those daughters you've been ignoring your whole life don't have a little "accident" with their high school softball coach who they see as a father figure and who the softball coach sees them as "hot young chick to bang."
But why attack one of my true loves?
Why attack online poker?
Look, you bastards, I know you're supposed to appease all those SNL Church Lady types who believe that anything that doesn't have to do with watching the Hallmark Channel, reading the Bible or wearing uncomfortable wool outfits is immoral and will send us to the Ninth Circle. And I know gambling calls on Saaataaaan and that Hell is actually a casino where they play HORSE tournaments all day long and 2,7 cracks AA every time (at least I hope so, except for the 2,7 part). And, hey, it makes perfect sense to ban online poker when we still allow it in casinos and we'll still allow horse racing and lotteries.
And that's exactly the point here.
Republicans are in an election year, Bush's popularity is about at the level of mosquitoes, 100-degree days and brussel sprouts, and it looks like their only hope is to appeal to the churchy masses who have no other option but to vote Democrat. This is their way of saying, "Look, we're here for you. We'll get rid of all that nasty gambling, and then we'll work on those nudie magazines that your husband keeps under his mattress."
Well, sort of.
We'll still allow horse racing, which boggles my mind. Horse racing is gambling. Poker is a skill game. If anything, horse racing should be on the top of the list. But no. And we'll still allow the lottery. If we did that, we wouldn't make any money, would we? This is so contradictory I can't even begin to break it down. And we'll still allow live gambling, we'll just shut it down online. Now THAT makes perfect sense.
But sense has nothing to do with this bill. Republicans want it easy. They want to prove that they can scratch their conservative flock behind the ears without much of a challenge. And banning horse racing, the lottery and live gambling would be a real challenge. Casinos have power. You don't think so? Colorado just passed a statewide smoking ban. The only places that are exempt? Casinos.
So fuck you, Republicans. Try and stop me. Neteller is offshore, so you can't do anything about my EFT, I don't believe. And just try enforcing the Internet. You're doing a great job with music downloads, for example, or Internet porn. Just keep up the good work.
But you've done one thing. You've given me another reason to hate you.
And for that, I thank you.
I can't tell you how many times I've said that in my life. But now I'm pissed.
Look, prevent gays from marrying all you want, even though it's an incredible and just plain asinine waste of time and energy. And if you want to pick away at abortion, well, fine, whatever, let's just hope those daughters you've been ignoring your whole life don't have a little "accident" with their high school softball coach who they see as a father figure and who the softball coach sees them as "hot young chick to bang."
But why attack one of my true loves?
Why attack online poker?
Look, you bastards, I know you're supposed to appease all those SNL Church Lady types who believe that anything that doesn't have to do with watching the Hallmark Channel, reading the Bible or wearing uncomfortable wool outfits is immoral and will send us to the Ninth Circle. And I know gambling calls on Saaataaaan and that Hell is actually a casino where they play HORSE tournaments all day long and 2,7 cracks AA every time (at least I hope so, except for the 2,7 part). And, hey, it makes perfect sense to ban online poker when we still allow it in casinos and we'll still allow horse racing and lotteries.
And that's exactly the point here.
Republicans are in an election year, Bush's popularity is about at the level of mosquitoes, 100-degree days and brussel sprouts, and it looks like their only hope is to appeal to the churchy masses who have no other option but to vote Democrat. This is their way of saying, "Look, we're here for you. We'll get rid of all that nasty gambling, and then we'll work on those nudie magazines that your husband keeps under his mattress."
Well, sort of.
We'll still allow horse racing, which boggles my mind. Horse racing is gambling. Poker is a skill game. If anything, horse racing should be on the top of the list. But no. And we'll still allow the lottery. If we did that, we wouldn't make any money, would we? This is so contradictory I can't even begin to break it down. And we'll still allow live gambling, we'll just shut it down online. Now THAT makes perfect sense.
But sense has nothing to do with this bill. Republicans want it easy. They want to prove that they can scratch their conservative flock behind the ears without much of a challenge. And banning horse racing, the lottery and live gambling would be a real challenge. Casinos have power. You don't think so? Colorado just passed a statewide smoking ban. The only places that are exempt? Casinos.
So fuck you, Republicans. Try and stop me. Neteller is offshore, so you can't do anything about my EFT, I don't believe. And just try enforcing the Internet. You're doing a great job with music downloads, for example, or Internet porn. Just keep up the good work.
But you've done one thing. You've given me another reason to hate you.
And for that, I thank you.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Rain, rain, go the hell away
Variance, as any poker player will tell you (including this one), is a bitch.
What I'm finding out is variance doesn't just apply to poker. It applies to mountaineering as well.
Mountaineering, like poker, takes luck. The average person doesn't realize how much skill poker takes to win. But people don't also realize that how luck mountaineering takes to "win" as well.
You could debate this point, and many of my fellow mountaineers would, but I consider a summit a "win." Many are content to have a day out in the woods, and I do get some enjoyment out of that, but mostly I'm bummed if I don't get another check off my list.
And to get that checkmark, things have to go right.
You have to feel good, both the night before and during the climb, not always a given with the difficulty of mountaineering and the altitude, which is always there to put a bad beat on you if something doesn't agree with you from the night before. You have to have the right conditions, i.e. reasonably dry rock or good snow or And most importantly, the weather has to be good.
There's nothing you can do about the last one. All the dances, prayers and obessions over checking the weather page 20 times a day won't help. You just have to be lucky.
This year, I have not been lucky.
At all.
In fact, I'm in the weather equivalent of a losing streak.
I returned a few hours ago from a climb up Mount Audubon, a 13er in the Indian Peak range. I took a group from a Fort Collins fitness club, Miramont, as a part of my new part-time job this summer. I will lead them on three hikes, including Saturday's, and including two 14ers, Quandary and Elbert.
I was soaked.
I was soggier than a kid's sugar cereal during Saturday morning cartoons.
Oh, boy, did that shower feel good. Funny how getting wet again is the best cure for getting soaked all day.
We did make the peak. Unbelieveably, we made the peak, despite the heavy sleet and scraping winds near the top. We walked through a fog so thick someone disappeared if they walked just a few feet away.
Last Saturday, as I already wrote, my attempt up Ice Mountain wasn't much better, despite being in position to make the summit by noon.
I'm doing everything I should. I'm getting up way too early to summit the peak early in the morning, before the afternoon thunderstorms hit.
But, as in poker, sometimes you can do everything right and still lose to variance.
Variance, after all, is a bitch.
The best thing to do, of course, is to push through it and hope that my luck continues.
Or just hope, a little bit, anyway, that variance decided to take on something else besides my mountaineering.
Hey, variance, my bankroll is pretty fat right now.
Let's work out a chop.
What I'm finding out is variance doesn't just apply to poker. It applies to mountaineering as well.
Mountaineering, like poker, takes luck. The average person doesn't realize how much skill poker takes to win. But people don't also realize that how luck mountaineering takes to "win" as well.
You could debate this point, and many of my fellow mountaineers would, but I consider a summit a "win." Many are content to have a day out in the woods, and I do get some enjoyment out of that, but mostly I'm bummed if I don't get another check off my list.
And to get that checkmark, things have to go right.
You have to feel good, both the night before and during the climb, not always a given with the difficulty of mountaineering and the altitude, which is always there to put a bad beat on you if something doesn't agree with you from the night before. You have to have the right conditions, i.e. reasonably dry rock or good snow or And most importantly, the weather has to be good.
There's nothing you can do about the last one. All the dances, prayers and obessions over checking the weather page 20 times a day won't help. You just have to be lucky.
This year, I have not been lucky.
At all.
In fact, I'm in the weather equivalent of a losing streak.
I returned a few hours ago from a climb up Mount Audubon, a 13er in the Indian Peak range. I took a group from a Fort Collins fitness club, Miramont, as a part of my new part-time job this summer. I will lead them on three hikes, including Saturday's, and including two 14ers, Quandary and Elbert.
I was soaked.
I was soggier than a kid's sugar cereal during Saturday morning cartoons.
Oh, boy, did that shower feel good. Funny how getting wet again is the best cure for getting soaked all day.
We did make the peak. Unbelieveably, we made the peak, despite the heavy sleet and scraping winds near the top. We walked through a fog so thick someone disappeared if they walked just a few feet away.
Last Saturday, as I already wrote, my attempt up Ice Mountain wasn't much better, despite being in position to make the summit by noon.
I'm doing everything I should. I'm getting up way too early to summit the peak early in the morning, before the afternoon thunderstorms hit.
But, as in poker, sometimes you can do everything right and still lose to variance.
Variance, after all, is a bitch.
The best thing to do, of course, is to push through it and hope that my luck continues.
Or just hope, a little bit, anyway, that variance decided to take on something else besides my mountaineering.
Hey, variance, my bankroll is pretty fat right now.
Let's work out a chop.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Racing for myself (and for a cure)
I love the 4th of July and Thanksgiving in Greeley. They happen to be the best two races in Greeley.
I did Race for the Cure, and I shattered my personal best in a 5K, running 22:36, or a 7:17 pace. It beat my personal best by 30 seconds, which in a race is something like
I'm thrilled with the time. I was really hoping for under 23 minutes but wasn't too confident heading into the race. It was my first 5K of the year and I didn't exactly stomp up the mountain Saturday.
But I really felt good in the first mile, felt OK enough in the second, all uphill, and then had just enough to get through the third.
5Ks don't really challenge my endurance, but man o man, they can be painful because you have to run so fast. I almost puked at the end but walked around just enough to help it pass before I passed my breakfast.
It's for a great cause, too, a cure for breast cancer. My mother had breast cancer a couple years ago and had surgery but did not need any other treatments. She was lucky. I have to admit, I thought of her more than once, glad for the ability to feel this kind of pain and push myself beyond what I thought was possible. Some don't get that chance until it's too late.
Have a great 4th!!!
P.S. Yep. Poker continues to go well.
I did Race for the Cure, and I shattered my personal best in a 5K, running 22:36, or a 7:17 pace. It beat my personal best by 30 seconds, which in a race is something like
I'm thrilled with the time. I was really hoping for under 23 minutes but wasn't too confident heading into the race. It was my first 5K of the year and I didn't exactly stomp up the mountain Saturday.
But I really felt good in the first mile, felt OK enough in the second, all uphill, and then had just enough to get through the third.
5Ks don't really challenge my endurance, but man o man, they can be painful because you have to run so fast. I almost puked at the end but walked around just enough to help it pass before I passed my breakfast.
It's for a great cause, too, a cure for breast cancer. My mother had breast cancer a couple years ago and had surgery but did not need any other treatments. She was lucky. I have to admit, I thought of her more than once, glad for the ability to feel this kind of pain and push myself beyond what I thought was possible. Some don't get that chance until it's too late.
Have a great 4th!!!
P.S. Yep. Poker continues to go well.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Ice Mountain - A cold-hearted slave
Editor's note: This is the "peaking" section of my poker/peaker blog. You'll see a few more like these as the summer goes on. They have nothing to do with poker. If you can't stand that, go deal yourself AA and watch a rerun of "Poker Superstars III" while I post this.
P.S. OK. Poker continues to go well in the cash games. I was down $25 Saturday but finished up $40 playing mostly .25 NL.
There. Happy?
Mountain: North Apostle (and Ice Mountain attempt)
Feet: 13,840
Date: 7/1/06
People: Mike Schumacher and Dan England
I’m starting on my quest for the Centennials and my partner for the day, Mike Schumacher, and I thought Ice Mountain would be a good preview for our planned trip up Dallas with Ryan Kowalski and possibly Piper.
Mike planned to camp at the South Winfield trailhead, while I didn’t want to fight the 4th of July traffic and all the yahoos planning to fish and drink Milller High Life, so I opted to roll out of bed at 1:45 a.m. and get on my way at 2 a.m.
The good news: At 2 a.m., even I-25 is empty, for the most part.
The bad news: It’s 2 a.m.
Fortunately I had Pearl Jam’s new album to help keep me alert, as well as the best of Sade (an underrated pop artist) and an icky Power Bar and Banana and tea. I arrived at the trailhead at 5:45 a.m. and met up with Mike, where we bounced our way to the start on the 4WD road.
The weather forecast didn’t look all that great, a 40 percent chance or greater for storms, but the sky was clear and sunny when we started. I wore just a fleece top and pants.
The trail was fine, save for the trees and plants swiping us with water on the way. By the time we got to the Apostle Basin and Lake Ann junction, my pants were soaked, an omen for the day ahead.
We crossed the huge log and then the icy logs written about by Mark Fisher, who wrote a much more detailed trip report than I will (I’ve got a story to write after this). We used that one most of the way.
We arrived at a basin right after the icy logs across the creek and Mike found a game trail to the left of the basin up a steep slope. Fisher apparently bushwacked through willows to the right up the hill. You could go both ways, but the trail we found was fairly nice and somewhat easy to follow. It spit us out above treeline, right under the slope where you want to start heading up to the saddle between North and Ice.
It’s a straightforward trip over crappy loose rock once you get beyond the few hundred feet of tundra that follow up a small lake. I struggled over it all day, as it was my first time out for the summer season, while Mike, who has already been out many times this year and just spent a week in Chicago Basin, looked like Peter Pan, flying over the rocks and leaving me in the dust.
I really believe I’m in good shape - I ran the Bolder Boulder in 50 minutes - but these guys from 14erworld are stomping all over me. Am I getting older? Is it because I have a baby now? I do think I performed all right but I”m getting tired of not keeping up.
Anyway, we made to the saddle, looked up and, almost like magic, a cloud appeared before us, building by the second. Mike and I decided to go for North and see how it would play out.
We made it to the top of North about 11 a.m. while the skies got worse. Ah, so THAT’S why the forecast didn’t look good.
By the time we made it back to the saddle, I had heard a couple of thunder claps in the far distance and it looked black to the right of us. Crap. We were less than 300 feet from the top of Ice but it wasn’t going to happen today.
In the past, this would disappoint me. It still did, but instead of arguing with Mike for a try at Ice, as I might have in the past, I knew he was right and started heading down with him. In fact, I never considered it. I’ve got more important things at home now, waiting for me, and I can’t risk it.
Mike and I started to head down and picked up the pace a bit as the lightning got closer and closer and it started to dump little pellets of ice on us.
There was still enough snow for a couple short glissades, so we took advantage. (The Fridge, by the way, still looked to be in great shape), and by the time the lighting was less than a mile away, we were close to treeline. Once we got through the trees, it was raining, or rather sleeting, pretty hard, and we wound up getting pretty soaked.
We made it back to the car wet but I was happy for the day. It was great to hike with Mike and we did get a peak in.
My climbing season has begun. I just hope it improves.
P.S. OK. Poker continues to go well in the cash games. I was down $25 Saturday but finished up $40 playing mostly .25 NL.
There. Happy?
Mountain: North Apostle (and Ice Mountain attempt)
Feet: 13,840
Date: 7/1/06
People: Mike Schumacher and Dan England
I’m starting on my quest for the Centennials and my partner for the day, Mike Schumacher, and I thought Ice Mountain would be a good preview for our planned trip up Dallas with Ryan Kowalski and possibly Piper.
Mike planned to camp at the South Winfield trailhead, while I didn’t want to fight the 4th of July traffic and all the yahoos planning to fish and drink Milller High Life, so I opted to roll out of bed at 1:45 a.m. and get on my way at 2 a.m.
The good news: At 2 a.m., even I-25 is empty, for the most part.
The bad news: It’s 2 a.m.
Fortunately I had Pearl Jam’s new album to help keep me alert, as well as the best of Sade (an underrated pop artist) and an icky Power Bar and Banana and tea. I arrived at the trailhead at 5:45 a.m. and met up with Mike, where we bounced our way to the start on the 4WD road.
The weather forecast didn’t look all that great, a 40 percent chance or greater for storms, but the sky was clear and sunny when we started. I wore just a fleece top and pants.
The trail was fine, save for the trees and plants swiping us with water on the way. By the time we got to the Apostle Basin and Lake Ann junction, my pants were soaked, an omen for the day ahead.
We crossed the huge log and then the icy logs written about by Mark Fisher, who wrote a much more detailed trip report than I will (I’ve got a story to write after this). We used that one most of the way.
We arrived at a basin right after the icy logs across the creek and Mike found a game trail to the left of the basin up a steep slope. Fisher apparently bushwacked through willows to the right up the hill. You could go both ways, but the trail we found was fairly nice and somewhat easy to follow. It spit us out above treeline, right under the slope where you want to start heading up to the saddle between North and Ice.
It’s a straightforward trip over crappy loose rock once you get beyond the few hundred feet of tundra that follow up a small lake. I struggled over it all day, as it was my first time out for the summer season, while Mike, who has already been out many times this year and just spent a week in Chicago Basin, looked like Peter Pan, flying over the rocks and leaving me in the dust.
I really believe I’m in good shape - I ran the Bolder Boulder in 50 minutes - but these guys from 14erworld are stomping all over me. Am I getting older? Is it because I have a baby now? I do think I performed all right but I”m getting tired of not keeping up.
Anyway, we made to the saddle, looked up and, almost like magic, a cloud appeared before us, building by the second. Mike and I decided to go for North and see how it would play out.
We made it to the top of North about 11 a.m. while the skies got worse. Ah, so THAT’S why the forecast didn’t look good.
By the time we made it back to the saddle, I had heard a couple of thunder claps in the far distance and it looked black to the right of us. Crap. We were less than 300 feet from the top of Ice but it wasn’t going to happen today.
In the past, this would disappoint me. It still did, but instead of arguing with Mike for a try at Ice, as I might have in the past, I knew he was right and started heading down with him. In fact, I never considered it. I’ve got more important things at home now, waiting for me, and I can’t risk it.
Mike and I started to head down and picked up the pace a bit as the lightning got closer and closer and it started to dump little pellets of ice on us.
There was still enough snow for a couple short glissades, so we took advantage. (The Fridge, by the way, still looked to be in great shape), and by the time the lighting was less than a mile away, we were close to treeline. Once we got through the trees, it was raining, or rather sleeting, pretty hard, and we wound up getting pretty soaked.
We made it back to the car wet but I was happy for the day. It was great to hike with Mike and we did get a peak in.
My climbing season has begun. I just hope it improves.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Thoughts stuck in my brain cells
I'm hoping by letting these out of my brain, my head won't feel so tight, and I'll be able to sleep better at night:
• Five questions:
1) Do I have the worst hair in the world? Metrosexual I am not. At least it's not a mullet anymore from my high school days.
Still, it ain't good.
2) Is Pandora the coolest Web site ever?
3) Is "High Stakes Poker" the best poker show on TV?
4) Don't you love poker players who raise just the minimum all night long?
5) Is this format as annoying to read as it is to write?
***
I smell a losing streak coming. I've had a very good run in these last two months, with 11 of my last 12 weeks posting significant wins (and the one losing week was like $1 off), so I know variance is lurking around the corner, knife in hand, ready to slash my bankroll like a naked teenager in a "Friday the 13th" sequel. So far I've avoided her greedy little claws, but lately I've had some terrible beats in my SnGs, far too many suckouts to mention, and even my cash game is starting to get pecked at by dominated hands who find two pairs on the rivers under the shit in their outhouse.
I'll stick to my game as much as I can and hope variance decides that I'm far too nice to hurt (and that my tiny little bankroll isn't worth the trouble - there are people who have thousands, even tens of thousands, in their bankroll, variance. I'm a low-calorie meal. Honest.)
Editor's note: Two hours after I post that, my AA loses to 3,3 and K,K when they push me all in and they BOTH get sets, the 3s on the flop, the K on the turn. Oops. Losing week, here we come. OK, variance, fine, nibble on my bones, if you must.
***
I need to sorta apologize to Iakaris by saying I didn't really love his writing style on TripJax's Web site. Too much is probably too much, but I do love his voice.
He responded very well, by leaving a nice comment on this poor, little, comment-starved blog of mine.
Although a feud would have been kinda cool.
A blogging feud.
Yeah.
Or kinda geeky.
***
So I'm heading up Ice Mountain this weekend. Ice Mountain is a tough, tricky and somewhat dangerous peak near Winfield, CO. In the past, I looked forward to these challenges, even relished them, but now, I find myself hesitating a bit. Why do I continue to do these peaks when I've got Jayden waiting for me at home?
It's not the time away. God knowsI need it. It's the danger.
I can't completely change who I am, and even with the danger, the chances of me being killed are less than 1 percent.
Still, I"ve lost three hands this week when I was a 9-1 favorite.
All three times, they knocked me out.
Makes you wonder.
***
Finally, as I sort of alluded to earlier, my cash game seems to be going better than my tournaments right now. I'm bonus whoring, so I'm totally fine with that, but I wonder.
I also wonder if I'm aggressive enough in cash games.
What are your starting hand requirements? Mine tend to be pretty tight, especially if there's a raise out there.
That's your homework.
• Five questions:
1) Do I have the worst hair in the world? Metrosexual I am not. At least it's not a mullet anymore from my high school days.
Still, it ain't good.
2) Is Pandora the coolest Web site ever?
3) Is "High Stakes Poker" the best poker show on TV?
4) Don't you love poker players who raise just the minimum all night long?
5) Is this format as annoying to read as it is to write?
***
I smell a losing streak coming. I've had a very good run in these last two months, with 11 of my last 12 weeks posting significant wins (and the one losing week was like $1 off), so I know variance is lurking around the corner, knife in hand, ready to slash my bankroll like a naked teenager in a "Friday the 13th" sequel. So far I've avoided her greedy little claws, but lately I've had some terrible beats in my SnGs, far too many suckouts to mention, and even my cash game is starting to get pecked at by dominated hands who find two pairs on the rivers under the shit in their outhouse.
I'll stick to my game as much as I can and hope variance decides that I'm far too nice to hurt (and that my tiny little bankroll isn't worth the trouble - there are people who have thousands, even tens of thousands, in their bankroll, variance. I'm a low-calorie meal. Honest.)
Editor's note: Two hours after I post that, my AA loses to 3,3 and K,K when they push me all in and they BOTH get sets, the 3s on the flop, the K on the turn. Oops. Losing week, here we come. OK, variance, fine, nibble on my bones, if you must.
***
I need to sorta apologize to Iakaris by saying I didn't really love his writing style on TripJax's Web site. Too much is probably too much, but I do love his voice.
He responded very well, by leaving a nice comment on this poor, little, comment-starved blog of mine.
Although a feud would have been kinda cool.
A blogging feud.
Yeah.
Or kinda geeky.
***
So I'm heading up Ice Mountain this weekend. Ice Mountain is a tough, tricky and somewhat dangerous peak near Winfield, CO. In the past, I looked forward to these challenges, even relished them, but now, I find myself hesitating a bit. Why do I continue to do these peaks when I've got Jayden waiting for me at home?
It's not the time away. God knowsI need it. It's the danger.
I can't completely change who I am, and even with the danger, the chances of me being killed are less than 1 percent.
Still, I"ve lost three hands this week when I was a 9-1 favorite.
All three times, they knocked me out.
Makes you wonder.
***
Finally, as I sort of alluded to earlier, my cash game seems to be going better than my tournaments right now. I'm bonus whoring, so I'm totally fine with that, but I wonder.
I also wonder if I'm aggressive enough in cash games.
What are your starting hand requirements? Mine tend to be pretty tight, especially if there's a raise out there.
That's your homework.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
A year to celebrate
Whew.
Presents are scattered about the living room, a mostly-munched tray of baked beans sits on the stove, and Jayden is sacked out in his crib, snoring for one of the first times in his life.
I'm seriously considering joining him.
Instead I'm down here, playing poker on a late Saturday afternoon, after Jayden's first birthday party.
I told Kate it felt like our wedding, and she laughed and agreed before collapsing on the couch. There were so many friends and family members, so many we wanted to talk to and yet we were so busy with everything we barely had time to sit and eat.
Funny. That's how our life has felt, to some degree, since he was born.
It's been an amazing experience, more than I ever thought it would, and I'd like to share a column I wrote for the paper here, at www.greeleytribune.com. I am the Adventure editor and entertainment reporter and projects editor (that's a lot of titles!), but I also enjoy writing columns about Jayden from time to time.
Here you go:
ust work through the baby stuff, I thought when Kate told me she was pregnant, and everything will be all right.
They say you are never really ready to have kids. It's true. I certainly wasn't even as we drove to the emergency room after Kate's water broke just a couple of hours before June 25, 2005.
The sky flashed colors I'd never seen before, even during my many mountaineering adventures. Lightning speared through the sky, flashing through the night and making the clouds explode. There was no rain, nor wind, only the constant sparking of the so-called "heat" lightning, nature's own fireworks display two weeks before our own meager attempts during the Fourth of July weekend.
The sky was in chaos.
How appropriate, I thought, a perfect metaphor for what my life was going to become in just another 24 hours.
When I thought of kids, I shuddered at the wisecracks, the power struggles and the late-night discussions about doing something with your life. I stuttered when parents told me about weekends lost to baseball, soccer and football games. But threats of diapers, sleepless nights, screaming, puking on new shirts and hours of free time snatched away simply made me shake.
Just work through the baby stuff, I told myself, and then you can enjoy Jayden.
I was actually looking forward to the delivery and my last few hours of freedom.
Jayden, and Kate, had other ideas.
Kate was looking forward to the hospital for months, and not just because she would finally shed what felt like a sack of rocks from her belly. She was ready for kids. Kids were a dream of hers. She would love the baby stuff. She wanted to breast feed. I think she wanted the diapers. And the late nights? In fact, she might enjoy them.
Me? I had a plan.
I would, at times, stuff Kleenex up my nose to avoid the smell of diapers. I would watch him in the afternoons at first, when I was home from work, because he napped in the afternoons and was much quieter then. I would walk around with him when he cried and take him outside, hoping that the view of the mountains would calm him down as much as it did me.
I would go back to work and relish the days apart from the crying. And, finally, Mom would come out to visit, and I would take four days to climb three of the last four 14ers I had to complete my goal of climbing them all.
I would focus on that trip during the tough times.
I would work through the baby stuff.
But, as I said, Jayden had other ideas. He came quickly, just six hours after we entered the hospital, and it would have been even faster, had Kate not wanted an epidural (which, by the way, I was completely fine with after she nearly broke my fingers during one especially gnarly contraction).
I let the nurse give him his first bath, but I was there. I changed the first diaper, a mess of what they call meconium, but I left the Kleenex on the table. I walked around with him when he cried.
Then, on the second day, as he screamed, I spoke.
I'm here, I said.
He stopped his screaming at the sound of my voice and opened his eyes and looked at me.
Oh. Hello.
He was my son.
And he knew it.
Since then, I have spent many happy days with Jayden. I have laughed with him, played with him and just about burst with love every time he's smiled at me, which, I'm proud to say, has numbered in the thousands.
Jayden will be a year old next Sunday. He babbles and sometimes says, "Da Da," though I'm still not convinced he knows what he's saying. He shares our meals now, at times grabbing my shake out of my hand and planting his lips on my straw before I can protest. He can stand on his own and has even taken a step or two.
He is close to becoming a little boy.
I never lived up to my plan.
I will miss the baby stuff. Terribly.
But that's just something I'll have to work through.
Presents are scattered about the living room, a mostly-munched tray of baked beans sits on the stove, and Jayden is sacked out in his crib, snoring for one of the first times in his life.
I'm seriously considering joining him.
Instead I'm down here, playing poker on a late Saturday afternoon, after Jayden's first birthday party.
I told Kate it felt like our wedding, and she laughed and agreed before collapsing on the couch. There were so many friends and family members, so many we wanted to talk to and yet we were so busy with everything we barely had time to sit and eat.
Funny. That's how our life has felt, to some degree, since he was born.
It's been an amazing experience, more than I ever thought it would, and I'd like to share a column I wrote for the paper here, at www.greeleytribune.com. I am the Adventure editor and entertainment reporter and projects editor (that's a lot of titles!), but I also enjoy writing columns about Jayden from time to time.
Here you go:
ust work through the baby stuff, I thought when Kate told me she was pregnant, and everything will be all right.
They say you are never really ready to have kids. It's true. I certainly wasn't even as we drove to the emergency room after Kate's water broke just a couple of hours before June 25, 2005.
The sky flashed colors I'd never seen before, even during my many mountaineering adventures. Lightning speared through the sky, flashing through the night and making the clouds explode. There was no rain, nor wind, only the constant sparking of the so-called "heat" lightning, nature's own fireworks display two weeks before our own meager attempts during the Fourth of July weekend.
The sky was in chaos.
How appropriate, I thought, a perfect metaphor for what my life was going to become in just another 24 hours.
When I thought of kids, I shuddered at the wisecracks, the power struggles and the late-night discussions about doing something with your life. I stuttered when parents told me about weekends lost to baseball, soccer and football games. But threats of diapers, sleepless nights, screaming, puking on new shirts and hours of free time snatched away simply made me shake.
Just work through the baby stuff, I told myself, and then you can enjoy Jayden.
I was actually looking forward to the delivery and my last few hours of freedom.
Jayden, and Kate, had other ideas.
Kate was looking forward to the hospital for months, and not just because she would finally shed what felt like a sack of rocks from her belly. She was ready for kids. Kids were a dream of hers. She would love the baby stuff. She wanted to breast feed. I think she wanted the diapers. And the late nights? In fact, she might enjoy them.
Me? I had a plan.
I would, at times, stuff Kleenex up my nose to avoid the smell of diapers. I would watch him in the afternoons at first, when I was home from work, because he napped in the afternoons and was much quieter then. I would walk around with him when he cried and take him outside, hoping that the view of the mountains would calm him down as much as it did me.
I would go back to work and relish the days apart from the crying. And, finally, Mom would come out to visit, and I would take four days to climb three of the last four 14ers I had to complete my goal of climbing them all.
I would focus on that trip during the tough times.
I would work through the baby stuff.
But, as I said, Jayden had other ideas. He came quickly, just six hours after we entered the hospital, and it would have been even faster, had Kate not wanted an epidural (which, by the way, I was completely fine with after she nearly broke my fingers during one especially gnarly contraction).
I let the nurse give him his first bath, but I was there. I changed the first diaper, a mess of what they call meconium, but I left the Kleenex on the table. I walked around with him when he cried.
Then, on the second day, as he screamed, I spoke.
I'm here, I said.
He stopped his screaming at the sound of my voice and opened his eyes and looked at me.
Oh. Hello.
He was my son.
And he knew it.
Since then, I have spent many happy days with Jayden. I have laughed with him, played with him and just about burst with love every time he's smiled at me, which, I'm proud to say, has numbered in the thousands.
Jayden will be a year old next Sunday. He babbles and sometimes says, "Da Da," though I'm still not convinced he knows what he's saying. He shares our meals now, at times grabbing my shake out of my hand and planting his lips on my straw before I can protest. He can stand on his own and has even taken a step or two.
He is close to becoming a little boy.
I never lived up to my plan.
I will miss the baby stuff. Terribly.
But that's just something I'll have to work through.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Paradise Island?
I took many lessons away from my trip to Hawaii. But probably the most important is paradise comes in many different forms.
Even though I had to continually ask my wife for the date we were leaving, I was looking forward to this trip for months.
It’s Hawaii, man! White sandy beaches! Aqua-blue water! Women with leis around their necks!
But instead of Hawaii, we got Waikiki, a medicore time-share with a 20-minute walk to the beach, a semi-sketchy part of town and more tourism than Branson. Seriously, this place made Vegas look as non-threatening as a garage sale. Everywhere you turned, people were trying to sell you stuff. Cheesy dinner cruises. 7 T-shirts for $20. “Aloha” shirts for $15, in patterns that were replicated throughout the dozens of cheap stands that dotted the landscape like the moles on your grandmother.
You can only dodge so many of these angles, especially when you’re traveling with in-laws. I learned something about myself on this trip. I am not a touristy guy. Every vacation I’ve ever taken, except for my Honeymoon, involved some sort of adventure, usually up a mountain. Relaxing on a beach is not my thing. A dinner cruise is not my thing. Hell, even parasailing struck me as a bit boring, and I thought that was one of the highlights of the trip.
So, given that, this trip report may seem like a bunch of poodle-prissy whining about my POOR trip to Hawaii, but like I said, paradise comes in many forms.
The mediocrity, and the tasteless tourism of the place, were magnified severely by the fact that this was the first time Kate and I had spent more than a day away from Jayden since he was born about a year ago,and I missed him bad, way more than I thought I would. He had taken a few steps and seemed to be getting ready to walk right when we left. I was already regretting missing the milestone that was sure to come. At least I got to see the first few steps before we climbed into our plane with what seemed like 1,500 other passengers.
And I was traveling with my in-laws. Maybe you love your in-lawns. I don’t mind mine. I could have done much, much worse. They are nice, kind, friendly people who paid for our trip.
But holding conversations about farts, what we were gonna eat tonight for dinner and the weather is not what I would call an intellectually stimulating conversation, and after holding these conversations for a week, I could actually feel my brain start to wiggle and wobble like a Jello surprise. Yes, I am a bit of an intellictual snob, and that’s a problem.
But Kate’s family is also a problem. Kate’s family is why there are TGIF’s, Chili’s and McDonalds on every corner. I suggested we eat at a local fish place one night - they were offering lobster and shrimp and other dishes for $11.95, a pretty good deal - and Kate’s brother, instead, went to...Chili’s. In Hawaii. There were so many instances like this, that I found myself stewing at the end of the week about them. They spent one day inside, all day, for instance, watching the Hallmark Channel.
“If that’s what they want to do, that’s fine,” Kate’s push-button answer was to all my observations.
Well, no, the problem is this attitude feeds into why beautiful places like this are turned into spots that look like my town of Greeley, CO and other spots that look like a carnival stand. Here’s a quote, a perfect quote, from a NY times article I read on vacation last week: “As anyone who has flown over the monocultured American heartland will attest, we have carried out a policy of biiological purification with theorganisms we eat - an elimination of the random in favor of the predictable.”
OK, so there were some highlights. Snorkling at a preserve was awesome. The hiking was reasonably good, even if their “mountain,” Diamond Head, took me 20 minutes to climb and did not have a spot on it that wasn’t guarded by a handrail (I chuckled at the “I Climbed Diamond Head T-Shirts”). Later that week we went on a waterfall hike through a rainforest that was short but beautiful. And I got to read actual books, something I hadn’t done much of since Jayden was born. “Positively Fifth Street” is a great, great read, and if you haven’t read it, stop wasting your time with this blog and pick it up today.
But perhaps the best part of this vacation was, in fact, perhaps the best part of my mountaineering trips. It made me appreciate what I have at home. I ran in the door and gave Jayden about 1,000 hugs and kisses.
He had,in fact, started to walk when he was gone and learned how to play Patty Cake. He also seemed to really enjoy being around me and Kate, which was nice and reaffirming at the same time.
That night, I played softball again, spent hours with Jayden and had a nice dinner with Mom, who watched him all week. Then I went downstairs and finally, oh man, finally, got to play poker again.
Paradise comes in many forms. Home, I’ve found, seems to be the best.
Even though I had to continually ask my wife for the date we were leaving, I was looking forward to this trip for months.
It’s Hawaii, man! White sandy beaches! Aqua-blue water! Women with leis around their necks!
But instead of Hawaii, we got Waikiki, a medicore time-share with a 20-minute walk to the beach, a semi-sketchy part of town and more tourism than Branson. Seriously, this place made Vegas look as non-threatening as a garage sale. Everywhere you turned, people were trying to sell you stuff. Cheesy dinner cruises. 7 T-shirts for $20. “Aloha” shirts for $15, in patterns that were replicated throughout the dozens of cheap stands that dotted the landscape like the moles on your grandmother.
You can only dodge so many of these angles, especially when you’re traveling with in-laws. I learned something about myself on this trip. I am not a touristy guy. Every vacation I’ve ever taken, except for my Honeymoon, involved some sort of adventure, usually up a mountain. Relaxing on a beach is not my thing. A dinner cruise is not my thing. Hell, even parasailing struck me as a bit boring, and I thought that was one of the highlights of the trip.
So, given that, this trip report may seem like a bunch of poodle-prissy whining about my POOR trip to Hawaii, but like I said, paradise comes in many forms.
The mediocrity, and the tasteless tourism of the place, were magnified severely by the fact that this was the first time Kate and I had spent more than a day away from Jayden since he was born about a year ago,and I missed him bad, way more than I thought I would. He had taken a few steps and seemed to be getting ready to walk right when we left. I was already regretting missing the milestone that was sure to come. At least I got to see the first few steps before we climbed into our plane with what seemed like 1,500 other passengers.
And I was traveling with my in-laws. Maybe you love your in-lawns. I don’t mind mine. I could have done much, much worse. They are nice, kind, friendly people who paid for our trip.
But holding conversations about farts, what we were gonna eat tonight for dinner and the weather is not what I would call an intellectually stimulating conversation, and after holding these conversations for a week, I could actually feel my brain start to wiggle and wobble like a Jello surprise. Yes, I am a bit of an intellictual snob, and that’s a problem.
But Kate’s family is also a problem. Kate’s family is why there are TGIF’s, Chili’s and McDonalds on every corner. I suggested we eat at a local fish place one night - they were offering lobster and shrimp and other dishes for $11.95, a pretty good deal - and Kate’s brother, instead, went to...Chili’s. In Hawaii. There were so many instances like this, that I found myself stewing at the end of the week about them. They spent one day inside, all day, for instance, watching the Hallmark Channel.
“If that’s what they want to do, that’s fine,” Kate’s push-button answer was to all my observations.
Well, no, the problem is this attitude feeds into why beautiful places like this are turned into spots that look like my town of Greeley, CO and other spots that look like a carnival stand. Here’s a quote, a perfect quote, from a NY times article I read on vacation last week: “As anyone who has flown over the monocultured American heartland will attest, we have carried out a policy of biiological purification with theorganisms we eat - an elimination of the random in favor of the predictable.”
OK, so there were some highlights. Snorkling at a preserve was awesome. The hiking was reasonably good, even if their “mountain,” Diamond Head, took me 20 minutes to climb and did not have a spot on it that wasn’t guarded by a handrail (I chuckled at the “I Climbed Diamond Head T-Shirts”). Later that week we went on a waterfall hike through a rainforest that was short but beautiful. And I got to read actual books, something I hadn’t done much of since Jayden was born. “Positively Fifth Street” is a great, great read, and if you haven’t read it, stop wasting your time with this blog and pick it up today.
But perhaps the best part of this vacation was, in fact, perhaps the best part of my mountaineering trips. It made me appreciate what I have at home. I ran in the door and gave Jayden about 1,000 hugs and kisses.
He had,in fact, started to walk when he was gone and learned how to play Patty Cake. He also seemed to really enjoy being around me and Kate, which was nice and reaffirming at the same time.
That night, I played softball again, spent hours with Jayden and had a nice dinner with Mom, who watched him all week. Then I went downstairs and finally, oh man, finally, got to play poker again.
Paradise comes in many forms. Home, I’ve found, seems to be the best.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Aloha for now
Don't worry, I'm only going away for a week.
Signs that perhaps you are playing too much poker or may even be kinda-sorta addicted to the game:
• You mumble in your sleep "can't believe that guy called my brilliant bluff with a pair of 4s."
• You start to feel edgy when there's not a poker show on TV. What the hell am I gonna watch now?
• You are going to Hawaii, and you aren't looking forward to it as much as you should because you won't get to play poker for more than a week.
I'm guilty of all three (at least I think so on the first, Kate claimed that I mumbled that last night but I think she was joking).
I'm heading to Hawaii Monday for the first time. I haven't really spoken about it here much, mostly because I didn't want to brag, but also because people make assumptions that when you're going there for a vacation, you must be rich.
I'm far from rich. Kate's parents have a time share and paid for our plane tickets. So we're lucky in the sense that for a week we get to live like we belong on "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous," even though we really belong on the show "Lifestyles of the Lower Middle Class" ("for breakfast he eats Frosted Flakes, for lunch hot dogs and for dinner...chicken fingers with a special kind of honey mustard, the kind normally bought for salads").
The trip has me a little antsy. It's the first time we'll spend any extended time away from the little guy. He's almost a year old, and just today, Jayden cried when I walked away from the cart to get a box of mac and cheese, even though my mother, who will stay with him a week, was right there.
It makes you realize how much they rely on you, even though he seems to be favoring Kate at the moment. I hope he does all right, even though I know he'll be fine. I hope he doesn't miss us too badly, even though I'm not sure he has the capacity to miss us at all. I hope I don't miss him so much that I don't have a good time in Paradise Island, or that Kate doesn't cry every minute of every day, even though it might feel good to feel like adults again.
But I also know I'll miss poker. I can't believe how much it's become a part of my life. It's now one of my passions, which include writing, mountain climbing, running, music and college basketball. And it's going well lately. I've had winning weeks in nine of the last 10, but that's not as important as the light that is starting to illuminate my dim cellar of a poker mind. I'm reading hands, reading players and reading situations better than ever.
A week away might be a good thing however. I plan to bring some poker books - don't worry, I'll do other things than read poker books while I'm in Hawaii - and maybe study the game a bit on the plane.
Everyone needs a vacation. Even from a fun yet addicting pastime that poker has become.
Signs that perhaps you are playing too much poker or may even be kinda-sorta addicted to the game:
• You mumble in your sleep "can't believe that guy called my brilliant bluff with a pair of 4s."
• You start to feel edgy when there's not a poker show on TV. What the hell am I gonna watch now?
• You are going to Hawaii, and you aren't looking forward to it as much as you should because you won't get to play poker for more than a week.
I'm guilty of all three (at least I think so on the first, Kate claimed that I mumbled that last night but I think she was joking).
I'm heading to Hawaii Monday for the first time. I haven't really spoken about it here much, mostly because I didn't want to brag, but also because people make assumptions that when you're going there for a vacation, you must be rich.
I'm far from rich. Kate's parents have a time share and paid for our plane tickets. So we're lucky in the sense that for a week we get to live like we belong on "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous," even though we really belong on the show "Lifestyles of the Lower Middle Class" ("for breakfast he eats Frosted Flakes, for lunch hot dogs and for dinner...chicken fingers with a special kind of honey mustard, the kind normally bought for salads").
The trip has me a little antsy. It's the first time we'll spend any extended time away from the little guy. He's almost a year old, and just today, Jayden cried when I walked away from the cart to get a box of mac and cheese, even though my mother, who will stay with him a week, was right there.
It makes you realize how much they rely on you, even though he seems to be favoring Kate at the moment. I hope he does all right, even though I know he'll be fine. I hope he doesn't miss us too badly, even though I'm not sure he has the capacity to miss us at all. I hope I don't miss him so much that I don't have a good time in Paradise Island, or that Kate doesn't cry every minute of every day, even though it might feel good to feel like adults again.
But I also know I'll miss poker. I can't believe how much it's become a part of my life. It's now one of my passions, which include writing, mountain climbing, running, music and college basketball. And it's going well lately. I've had winning weeks in nine of the last 10, but that's not as important as the light that is starting to illuminate my dim cellar of a poker mind. I'm reading hands, reading players and reading situations better than ever.
A week away might be a good thing however. I plan to bring some poker books - don't worry, I'll do other things than read poker books while I'm in Hawaii - and maybe study the game a bit on the plane.
Everyone needs a vacation. Even from a fun yet addicting pastime that poker has become.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
It's not always your fault
Poker is hard on the competitive, Type-A personalities like me.
Whenever I lose, there's always something I think I could have done better. I could have been more aggressive. I could have been more paitent. I could have been, er, playing Doom 3 and avoided playing all together.
This weekend, after a horrible weekend of live tournament poker, I've changed my mind. A little.
So Friday night I played tournament poker at our Relay for Life in Weld County. Relay for Life is a really fun charity event that is all night long for cancer. The fun comes from all the different tents and "teams" who pick their own theme. We were Tour de Cure and pretended we were bike racers for the Tour de France.
We walked a little. Mostly we ate and played poker.
We found a Bank tent offering Texas Hold Em on the hour, every hour, so we started playing at 11:45 p.m. If you have the most chips at the end of the hour, you get a free beer mug.
So the stakes were high.
So two friends of mine and I played against two 11-year-olds, a fat guy who "likes to play those bar tournaments" and a loud, screechy 22-year-old woman who liked to raise and then talk about her raise (I gotta raise, I can't leave it there, I can't just not call) until the flop hit.
In a 10-hour cash game, I know I would have come out ahead. But the time limit, and the horrible play, beckoned variance.
On a table like this, the results can either be very good (see my post about my first time in a live casino playing limit, when I came out $200 ahead in three hours) or very bad (see my writing after this sentence). Really, it depends solely on luck. You can't raise with nothing because you'll get called. You can't bluff because you'll get called. And sometimes even these people wake up and find, say, AK, usually when you are holding A,Q.
Well, in the first game, it was down to me and 11-year-old #2, who had a huge stack after winning a three-way all in with a,9 (the other two had A,2, egh). And I had K,Q with a Q-high flop, with 4 and an 8, so I bet, bet and finally pushed, and the kid called me down with...
9,4.
Oh. I forgot to mention he hit his 9 on the river.
Three hands later, he won after calling another all-in with K,J and flopping two Ks after the dude had A,Q.
He didn't really understand why I was laughing so hard. And I didn't want to tell him.
Saturday night I played a home game with a $20 buy-in. I have no bad beat stories in this one. I got no hands.
Now, I"m looking for suggestions here. I had 9,3 all night. If I raised preflop I got 5 callers. So I could never bet. It was the perfect situation, all I need is a few solid hands and I'm winning it. Only the hands never came. A,10 never came. Nothing came. I was clueless. If you can't bluff, and you get crap, really, what can you do?
You lose.
The experience has made me relax a bit in the low-limit SnGs I play now. I've played hundreds of SnGs now, and every time, I always think I could have done something different if I don't cash. That's a good exercise to go through. It's how you improve. I have, for instance, improved my position play as a result of this.
But sometimes you just lose because sometimes those SnGs aren't much different than Relay for Life poker.
But that's OK. Poker, after all, is just one long Relay.
Whenever I lose, there's always something I think I could have done better. I could have been more aggressive. I could have been more paitent. I could have been, er, playing Doom 3 and avoided playing all together.
This weekend, after a horrible weekend of live tournament poker, I've changed my mind. A little.
So Friday night I played tournament poker at our Relay for Life in Weld County. Relay for Life is a really fun charity event that is all night long for cancer. The fun comes from all the different tents and "teams" who pick their own theme. We were Tour de Cure and pretended we were bike racers for the Tour de France.
We walked a little. Mostly we ate and played poker.
We found a Bank tent offering Texas Hold Em on the hour, every hour, so we started playing at 11:45 p.m. If you have the most chips at the end of the hour, you get a free beer mug.
So the stakes were high.
So two friends of mine and I played against two 11-year-olds, a fat guy who "likes to play those bar tournaments" and a loud, screechy 22-year-old woman who liked to raise and then talk about her raise (I gotta raise, I can't leave it there, I can't just not call) until the flop hit.
In a 10-hour cash game, I know I would have come out ahead. But the time limit, and the horrible play, beckoned variance.
On a table like this, the results can either be very good (see my post about my first time in a live casino playing limit, when I came out $200 ahead in three hours) or very bad (see my writing after this sentence). Really, it depends solely on luck. You can't raise with nothing because you'll get called. You can't bluff because you'll get called. And sometimes even these people wake up and find, say, AK, usually when you are holding A,Q.
Well, in the first game, it was down to me and 11-year-old #2, who had a huge stack after winning a three-way all in with a,9 (the other two had A,2, egh). And I had K,Q with a Q-high flop, with 4 and an 8, so I bet, bet and finally pushed, and the kid called me down with...
9,4.
Oh. I forgot to mention he hit his 9 on the river.
Three hands later, he won after calling another all-in with K,J and flopping two Ks after the dude had A,Q.
He didn't really understand why I was laughing so hard. And I didn't want to tell him.
Saturday night I played a home game with a $20 buy-in. I have no bad beat stories in this one. I got no hands.
Now, I"m looking for suggestions here. I had 9,3 all night. If I raised preflop I got 5 callers. So I could never bet. It was the perfect situation, all I need is a few solid hands and I'm winning it. Only the hands never came. A,10 never came. Nothing came. I was clueless. If you can't bluff, and you get crap, really, what can you do?
You lose.
The experience has made me relax a bit in the low-limit SnGs I play now. I've played hundreds of SnGs now, and every time, I always think I could have done something different if I don't cash. That's a good exercise to go through. It's how you improve. I have, for instance, improved my position play as a result of this.
But sometimes you just lose because sometimes those SnGs aren't much different than Relay for Life poker.
But that's OK. Poker, after all, is just one long Relay.
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