A radio personality made for the newspaper

Well, last night was my debut on Buddy Dank Radio, although I hesitate to call it a debut because that implies I'll get to be on again at some point.
After my blasé performance, I'm pretty sure I won't be asked back on. It made me appreciate what Buddy and Instant Tragedydo every week. Even if it does sound chaotic at times, those guys monitor all the games, try to keep us entertained, make sure the music is going, take messages from us Yahoos (literally) and play the Mookie all at the same time. It's harder than it sounds, folks, and that's because they are so relaxed while I do it.
I wanted to tell more climbing stories but after a while I realized it didn't seem to fit, and it would probably just come across as me just bragging about my exploits anyway. What I was hoping to do was introduce the poker bloggers to a different world, but I don't have the personality to do that without it coming across as just me blathering about my "great feats."
I busted fairly early from The Mookie. I was re-raised a lot preflop, and I'll have to start taking a stand if that continues, although I have a feeling I was beat each time, and I couldn't get anything going otherwise.
Now that PokerStars is on the Mac, I two tabled it while I was on the radio after I busted and scooped a huge pot when I called a minimum raise with five other callers with A-J clubs, expecting to either hit the flop big or let it go cheap. The flop came A-J-9, with two spades, so I bet the pot and was mini-raised by the original raiser. Given the draws and the fact that I thought I had the guy beat, I pushed, and he eventually called with K-K.
I had a great time on the radio, so thanks to Buddy for putting up with me the whole radio program. I would encourage all of you to give it a shot, as it was really easy to set up, and Buddy and IT will make you feel at home.
Speaking of a different world, go check out the latest Miami Donpost, his first installment of a series about his former life. It's outstanding writing, from the soul, and I can't wait for the next part. When Don isn't feuding or talkin' like a bookie, he's one of the best bloggers out there, and I'm really glad he's started this series.
We've got a prop bet this weekend, my Kansas Jayhawks versus Don's Missouri Tigers. The Tigers have us in their building, and that's a tough game no matter how good we are. And our ballas are really, really good this year. This is probably the best Jayhawk team I've seen in a long, long time, and that's saying something. This team is definitely better than the one that went to the title game in 2003 and equal to the one that went to the Final Four in 2002.
I'm heading to Black Hawk this weekend for some donkey limit poker after some time with Kate's parents. I've already scheduled a 10-mile run on Sunday to work off the frustration from that session.

The gift that kept on giving - until we got tired

My birthday was Friday, and my wife asked me what I wanted.
Other than the usual wisecracks, I told her I only wanted one thing.
Time.
Time is the most precious commodity we have (or, usually, don't have) in our house.
So Friday night, Kate and I went to a Japanese steakhouse, the kind where they cook the food in front of you and throw bits of chicken for you to catch in your mouth. I love watching the chefs throw their cutlery around, just barely missing a finger (both the patrons' and the cookers) and slicing up the veggies and meat with the skill of a veteran serial killer. But I love the food even more. I think shrimp on a grill just might be my favorite food. It's even healthy so you don't have to feel guilty about eating it.
And Saturday, at 10 a.m., Kate dropped me off with a longtime buddy of mine.
It was time for Black Hawk poker!
If there's one thing I truly do mourn since the twins were born, it's time with my friends. Sadly, I just don't get that much anymore. It's not fair to the other person to leave the house at night with three kids up and around (two infants and a toddler I should say), and so everything has to work out just right, and it has to be planned like a D-Day invasion. We went down to Kate's parents in Lakewood for the day, so she would have extra help, and though it worked great, as an example, we packed enough clothes, diapers and other baby crap to get the adults through a month in Germany. It took me five minutes to pack for me and an hour, at least, to pack for the kids.
So Saturday would be great for two reasons. I would get to spend time with a close friend, and I would get to play live poker.
Now it's Black Hawk poker, $2/5 limit, so it wouldn't be very imaginative, skilled or quite frankly much fun at times. But it's still live poker, and complaining about live poker, especially now that I rarely get to leave the house, would be like bitching because your peanut butter pie didn't quite have enough whipped cream.
Probably the most interesting hand came when someone raised and I looked down at a pair of 8s. I called, and an older, 60ish, friendly, chatty lady with a thick Texas accent called as well.
We called her Auntie Poker because she would have made a great aunt. You'd learn how to play poker, and the Thanksgiving dinners would be a lot more lively. But she's also the typical Black Hawk poker player. She wasn't a total idiot, but she played a lot of hands, especially if it was soooted, chased every draw (correctly, if you're into odds) and overvalued marginal hands.
The flop came 8,9,2 with two spades. The original raiser, a young, cool, aggressive player who had climbed Longs Peak seven times (so I liked him right away), bet, Auntie called, and I raised with two spades and a straight draw out there. The raiser re-raised me and Auntie called. I paused for a second and figured if he had a set of 9s, congrats, and re-raised to $20. He just called, and Auntie Poker called.
The third spade came down, a 5, and my heart sank. I did not put the younger guy on a spade, but I definitely put Auntie on one. I figured she had to have some kind of draw. I checked it around. Maybe that's weak but I didn't want to get check-raised, and there was a ton of money in the pot already. Plus I was hoping the board would pair. I weakly checked it around to the river and showed my 8s. The younger guy had K-K, and Auntie mucked. I have no idea what she had. Maybe JJ? I wouldn't even put her past a pair of 9s.
I got A-A three times and it held every time, and I flopped a set of queens and later Kings, but those didn't get much action, and almost all the rest of my big hands, few as they were, didn't get much either. I also did not have a draw hit all day and didn't get a straight or a flush the whole day. And I took a flush too far on a paired board and couldn't fold TPTK to a set of 4s, though in this game it didn't cost me too much, and it's hard to fold a strong hand when it's only $5 more to call and there's a ton in the pot and the players will bet second pair all the way down.
The last two hours we were in card dead hell, and we relied on the Kansas game to entertain us.
What a game. KU played a tough OSU team at their place and really controlled most of the game. It's really unreal that they will most likely be 11-0 and playing for a spot in the national title game. I have to say that over and over to believe it. This is like the Bad News Bears going to the Little League World Series.
As a bonus, my Mookie Vegas bet was on the game, so I'm gonna get a nice payoff for that. Ship it!
As we drove home, we talked poker, our relationships and football. It was disappointing to finish down, but the poker was not about the money. Not today.
The time spent playing it was much more valuable than that.

Bachelor Party

I was a bachelor for half a day Saturday and then Saturday night.
I had completely forgotten what it was like to sit in the house in the morning and contemplate what I was going to do that day, rather than trying to keep my nose above the rushing tide of chaos. Usually by that time I'm holding a twin or trying to keep Jayden from throwing something through a window.
Friday night, after my buddy decided not to climb Mount Elbert, it occurred to me that my guided hike wasn't going to happen, and the only two people going on the trip was my running partner and her husband. I would have enjoyed a day with them up Colorado's tallest mountain, as my chances to climb this year have been, shall we say, limited.
But then it occurred to me than since Kate was already planning to head down to her parents' house, about an hour away, I could actually spend the day alone.
In the past, before I had children, namely before I had twins, spending the day alone would have been a good excuse to head up to the hills. Why would I spend the day in the house when I could be on a peak?
These days, spending the day in a quiet house, with no one to answer to myself (well, nothing but the lawn, the dog and a pressing need to get groceries), sounds like paradise island. I mean party playing poker with the naked cast of "Sorority Girl 8" doesn't sound as good as that these days.
I did momentarily question my devotion to the mountains. Here was a free chance to head up a peak, without any guilt attached, and I chose to spend some time at home. But I used to beat myself up for taking a weekend off even in a summer when I had already climbed 20 peaks. Having the twins has left with no apologies on how I spend my free time these days because free time only comes in bits and pieces, not the huge chunks I enjoyed in the past. So I do what I want to do, not what I think I should do.
That meant playing a video game for two-and-a-half hours, then mowing the lawn (ah, well, we can't escape everything) and then watching a movie and going to the store (I don't mind those trips as much because I can buy myself treats like Recess Peanut Butter Puffs cereal).
And finally it meant going down to Denver to see my kids.
And playing poker at Black Hawk.
When the movie ended, and the store was behind me, and the lawn was mowed, I realized that I was a little bored. It was 3:30 p.m. Now what? It made me realize how little there was to my life before I had a family.
Now I used to hate it when people said that in the past. A family isn't everything, I would say, and my life was pretty darn fulfilling. Well, I think I was wrong about that, and today I can't even believe I'm saying that. I always thought I would be fine if I lived alone.
I'd still be fine, but my life would not be as full. It's such a cliche, and yet even the lamest cliches sometimes are true.
I did head up to Black Hawk to play some 2/5 limit poker. It was pretty uneventful. I played too tight, but then again, I only lost $11 after getting dealt a bunch of crap most of the night.
Live, $2/5 limit poker, I've found, isn't a very interesting game. It's so much fun to play live, I'll play it, but I'm discovering how boring it actually is. I've only played $3/6 limit live once in my life, but they seem like equal games. All you can do is play good hands, play them hard and hope no one sucks out on you.
That's it. There's no bluffing, there's no trickery since you really just want to get bets in, and yes you can raise, and you should raise, but don't expect that raise to push people off hands.
Given that, I try to pay attention to position and play only the best hands to a raise and many other hands that could turn into big ones with good flops, including connectors and small pairs. It's pretty boring and predictable, but it's also effective. I just didn't get enough hands to make it pay off. My only flaw was folding too many hands I could have played to a raise, but that's a small mistake, and though some hands would have hit, others would have cost me, like A,J.
I haven't played live poker in Black Hawk in a long time, but even that was not the highlight of my day. All I needed was just a little time away to realize it, but the highlight was the hour and a half I spent with Kate getting Sonic burgers, sharing a shake with Jayden, holding Allie and playing "superbaby" with Andie (her current favorite game, she loves to be in the air).
Well, that and beating that next level on my video game. Yes, I'm maturing, but I'm not overdoing it.

My last hurrah

By the time it was 10:45 p.m. Saturday, I was praying for 10,3. Honest. After a run of cards in the last half hour that were so nice I gladly would have committed my stack, any size stack, to them, I was worn out.
For this was 2/5 limit poker, the only game in town in Colorado, not No Limit. I play 97 percent No Limit online, and while it can be a tougher game, it would have been easier in that half-hour. I could have pushed people off their hands, rather than pitching in $5 or raising another $5 and hoping for the best. It was, in fact, more stressful than No Limit, given that I didn't feel like I had control of the hand regardless of what I did. Luck was my companion, not aggression, good reads or solid play, and no solid poker player is completely comfortable dancing with luck, even if it happens to be on his or her side.
I peer down at my cards and sigh at my pair of Hiltons. Great. I really needed a break. Instead I would have to deal with my best starting hand other than the pairs of Aces I played earlier. When a total donkey raised the blind to $5, I merely called rather than re-raise. I"ll be honest. I was staring at my stack and, after spending five hours hovering around a $60 loss, was fine leaving with a small profit.
But I was still a poker player, and if I can't play QQ in limit poker, even in early position, then I should just quit and take up online Monopoly.
I had played for nine hours, and I knew that this would be my last time to play live poker until at least this fall because of the twin girls. So I really didn't to leave. I also knew my heart wasn't in it anymore.
"I call," I said.
"Make it 10," an agressive, wild, unpredictable player says immeaditely after I throw my chips in."
Oh, shit.
• • •
"Would it be OK if I played poker all day at Black Hawk, sort of as a last hurrah?"
"Yes, as long as this is the last thing you do before they're born."
"It will be."
"OK, then. Have fun."
Music to my ears. I rounded up some recent Heavy Metal mixes, a couple magazines in case of a long wait, a water bottle, $300 cash and an anxiousness about getting to play live. I love playing live, but the opportunities don't come as often as I'd like. The casinos are a tricky, two-hour drive from Greeley, up mountain roads, and Saturday thick fog and some snow would only add to the journey.
Still, after teaching my Boot Camp for New Dads class, I left Greeley at noon. I would be by myself after my buddy came down with a miserable cough. But that was fine, too. I went to the Ameristar. See Chipper's blog for a cool picture and his trip report from Friday. It's a swanky new place, with a smoke-free casino, friendly staff and a couple good places to grab some grub. It's also got notoriously bad players, like the MGM $3/6 limit game in Vegas. As Chipper will tell you, no pair is safe, and that includes a pair of Aces or Kings in your hand.
As I told Chipper, the stragety is to play great starting hands or any pair, as well as sooted connecting cards and occasionally non-connecting, play them aggressively when the flop hits you, and then just hope for the best.
It's not really great poker, but it is live poker, so therefore I enjoy it. I love it, in fact. I planned to take full advantage of my last opportunity to play it for a while.
Unfortunately, for the first five hours, the cards weren't cooperating.
I do not screw around in Black Hawk. You can't bluff. You can't "push" people off hands. You can't really even bet them off. You might be able to semi-bluff in the hopes of throwing them off if you do hit your draw. But the best way to weave your way through the suckout minefield is just to play solid and hit your Bingo.
In fact, for the first few hours, many at my table played the same way. People were folding. Bluffs still didn't work, but at least they were folding if they had only a gutshot, and the pots remained fairly small. That was fine with me. I wasn't getting shit.
I got AA once, and it held up, but then my TPTK lost to runner, runner straight. That's typical. No biggie. I hit a Broadway straight with A,K (the only time it hit in the 7 times I had it) on the river when I stayed with it too far (I had a flush and straight draw with two overcards but I have to admit I had a hard time letting a good starting hand go because they were so far and few between),
By the time I went to get a little dinner and bring it back to the table, I was still hovering around a $60 loss. I chose a healthy dinner. Tomato Basil Soup. An orange. Chips. Half a cookie. And a free Mountain Dew. Reasonably healthy, anyway. It was delicious and only $7. Not bad, really.
My cold streak continued until I finished the soup.
And then all hell broke lose.
I called 3,3 to a raise from my favorite player at the table. I now call any pocket pairs to raises, and the set mining has been good for my bankroll. After missing sets nine other times that day, I finally hit a 3 on a J,3,K flop. I wasn't messing around. There were six other players in the hand. I bet and got a raise. I re-raised and everyone else folded. The initial player, a beautiful, older Asian woman who was prone to tilting, was cautious after that. She was also observant and knew I was tight. I bet the other two rounds, she called, and when I flipped my set over she tapped the felt and mucked.
I got 5,5 the next hand (presto!) and it hit and later turned into a full house. When the board double paired on 6s and 3s to go with my 5, she had the lower, a 3, but I had 5s full of 3s and had another huge pot shipped my way. In two hands I was now up $50 after being down $60.
I won a few more pots after that and then looked down at beautiful AA for the third time that night. The second time I raised and no one called. This time I raised again and got two callers, one from a guy who had to be told, every.single.time. from the dealer his options. You can check, call or raise. How much is it? he asked. Every.Single.Time. He had no idea what was going on.
You probably know what's coming next. An A hit the flop, bells go off in my head, and then... I'll spare you the details other than to say after raising the shit out of the stoopid donkey who asked about bets (sounds like a children's book), he hit runner, runner gutshot straight with Q,4 soooted.
In the very next hand, I hit a set of 9s and raised on the flop. A 10 hit the turn, and the player, an aggressive, unusual, tricky player, a young guy who probably watched too much poker on ESPN, re-raised me. Uh-oh. I merely checked and called after that, and sure enough, he hit his set of 10s.
I'm now down $60 and tilting like a MoFo.
On the VERY NEXT HAND I get JJ. There's a raise from the Asian woman again. I call and a J hits the flop. WTF?
When she raises my bet I re-raise, and pretty soon there's a huge pot in the middle. She shows me AA after the betting is done and I win most of my money back from the last hand. I'm now even and completely worn out mentally.
Then I get the third-best starting hand two hands later.
• • •
Well, I'm not folding QQ, not in limit and not to a raise from a semi-donkey. I call and see what happens.
It's a J-high flop. Check, check, and I bet. He calls and the stooopid donkey calls. I'm curious so I check on the turn. Only the stoopid donkey bets after asking the dealer how much he can bet. We both call.
The river seems harmless. I honestly don't even really remember the hand. There were no overcards. So I bet $5. Mr. ESPN raises me.
Crap. What does he have? Was he slowplaying KK? He might have. But I'm not folding now. It's too big a pot and I like my hand.
I call.
He flips over 7,7.
Sweet.
And after pitching A,10 UTG - I just don't have the energy to play that in early position - I decide to go.
I finish $60 ahead.
I'll take it.
I walk out of the casino at 10:45 p.m., far earlier than I planned to, but it's snowing outside, I'm exhausted mentally, and I'm satisfied.
And it seems only fitting to me that, given the twins that are basically due at any time after a couple of weeks, I would leave, and leave up, thanks to a pair of ladies.



P.S. Speaking of the ladies, I have cancelled the money baby contest due to a lack of interest. It's now free. Email me your guess at dengl5@earthlink.net and I'll buy in the winner in a tournament of your choice, $11 max. Fuel has guessed. Why not you? Leave a comment as well.

Bad Beat Blowout (aka I came to gamble, not to play poker!)

— Regular at the Ameristar Casino in Black Hawk: "You know why it's so packed, don't you?"
Me: "The online thing? People are bored on Saturday? The poker boom?"
Regular: "No. The Bad Beat jackpot."

It was hard not to blame the gamboolers who packed all dozen tables at the Ameristar, making us wait for a table for two hours when I came up with one of my best friends for an all-day, orgasmic, play-poker-till-you-drop-and-you'd-better-do-it-now-before-the-twins-arrive marathon.
The bad beat was more than $180,000. Just sitting at the table if it hits will net you $7,000. That's a lot of diapers.
Daddy needs some low quads!!!

I was stunned at the talk of the poker tables. Bad beat this, bad beat that, wouldn't it be great if we could hit it, blah blah blah. Yeah. It hadn't hit in months. The odds of quads over quads (or a straight flush) are about as high as Jack Bauer spending a day lounging on the couch and picking at his toenails. I was not there to hit a bad beat. I was there to play poker.
Unlike many of my tablemates.
"I'm here to gamble," one said, "not play poker."

Limit poker in a casino is always a minefield, and Colorado only offers $2/5 limit. Yes, you'll find your good players, but you'll also find many willing to chase any inside straight draw with 7,4, any pair in the hopes of catching trips, any flush draw even with a single suit out there and any pocket pair in the hopes of catching a set.
Raising works only to sweeten the pot (and as the pot builds, ironically gambooling with such fodder gets more and more correct - you'd pay $5 to win $100, right?).
I knew exactly what to expect Saturday, and I wasn't disappointed, when a Vietnamese girl all the dealers called "Angel" took her J,7 to battle against my KK, despite my re-raise and raising every turn, until the river, when she caught her 7 to go with her top pair. I was a little pissed, but I also knew that eventually, those are the players who pay you off as well. It works both ways. And I also told myself that the odds of her finishing ahead of me for the night were as high as, well, hitting the bad beat jackpot. I wasn't wrong: She burned through $300 and left the table depressed. After she sucked out with another two pair with crap against my A,Q, I silently cheered when she busted.

Bad beat story alert (but it's not mine, so I get to save $1): Twice I saw a flopped full house with a pair in the hand get beat by runner, runner card, giving the other person quads. One was A on the turn and A on the river, and then my friend lost his full house after re-raising the guy to the bone and he continued to call with his pair of 7s, and then his trips on the turn, and then his quads on the river). Ouch. That's the worst I've ever seen.

So you don't go expecting to make a ton of money or have all your hands hold up. You go to have fun. Fun, to me, still means playing solid poker, only good starting hands, betting and raising when you've got it and checking when you don't (bluffing is pointless) and being patient, but many others would disagree. That's cool. Thank you for calling down my made nut flush with your small pair.

I got my fair share of good hands. I swam through the cold streaks and rode the hot ones. I preserved my chips until I got a hand and either won or got sucked out on. It was a typical Black Hawk night.
Then I hear some screaming three tables down. Either a guy snapped when his K,K lost to 8,3 os, or it happened.
It happened.
Bad beat jackpot.
6s beaten by QQ. Both got their set on the flop, then each nailed their card on the turn and river.
"God dammit," a guy hissed to my right.
Hey, I was happy. How cool we got to see that.
And then I look down.
AA.
Oh, shit. We get to keep playing, don't we?

Play continued, sort of, as the table went bonkers. Players gazed over there with envy in their eyes. My big hand was easing my envy. It's hard to feel sorry for yourself when you're holding AA.
"Raise," I announced after six callers threw in their $2 blind.
A gorgeous A comes on the flop, but this is limit, so I don't even think about slowplaying it, not with two clubs out there. I bet.
Three fold, but two call. One folds on the turn and one folds on the flop when the other club doesn't hit.
OK, sweet. AA doesn't always hold up.
Happy, I excused myself and congratulated the giddy table sipping on bubbly.

I guess they weren't the only ones who got lucky that night.

I wound up finishing $35 up, making an incredible $4 an hour, meaning I could have made more flipping burgers at McHappy Atomic Burger.
But I would not have had nearly as much fun.