A chance to post a clip from one of my favourite films of all time. I may not be getting beaten to within an inch of my life by George Kennedy, but I might as well be to all intents and purposes.
I remember years back making a final table (stop sniggering, I've already thought of any jokes you might want to post in the comments). It was the first hand of a weekly tournament at Luton Grosvenor, when I was a regular there, despite the 2 hour drive each way to play. Over the course of a few years the place was a source of plenty of money, much happiness, and occasional heartbreak, but those are entirely different stories. I digress. You should be used to that by now from me.
I looked down at the wonderful sight of a red ace and a black Ace. Always good to see. I'd had a brutal run in tournaments for a few months, and had basically willed my way to a final table with very few hands actually being shown down. 9th place paid very little, and 1st would make life a lot easier financially for a while for me. The line up in the final was a murderer's row of regulars. Most were pretty capable players and thinkers of the game, so I decided to be unorthodox. I jammed, under the gun, for about 25 big blinds, hoping to get a bad call, which in Hold 'Em, when you have Aces preflop, you always want..
All folded round to one regular, who sized up the bet, assessed the table, and then said out loud "You know what? I know I'm behind here, but you're so out of form I'm going to call you". He pushed in his chips, and flipped over A9 offsuit against my AA. Hallelujah. Well played Kevin. Start engraving that trophy.
He ran out a full house, 9's full of deuces, and busted me in 9th. Nice hand brother. I think I picked up enough for my hard work to put petrol in the car that night.
The point of this tale isn't to whine about getting busted (no one cares), nor is it to talk about bad luck (it doesn't exist, at least not in the sense most people understand). It's to highlight this wonderful thing that gamblers (in the UK anyway) call "form". It can't really be quantified, yet anyone who has experienced it, either good or bad, will testify as to the stark reality of it's existence. When you're "in form", every draw hits for you, every hand is called by another just a pip worse, and every bluff gets through. You get the trophy, the money and the girl, and leave in a shiny new car with a big novelty cheque. Happy days.
Then of course, there's bad form, or being "out" of form. Far less fun.
An out of form player can't do a thing right. They make good decisions that end up as losers, they fold the winner, and they bubble every tournament, or get their money in as a decent favourite, and get shafted. A lot. Being out of form is a horrible place in which to find oneself, it feels like everything you learnt and know is now in question, and makes you rethink everything, including yourself, and your abilities and life choices. For a poker player, it's about as bad as things can get, and if you don't have the constitution for it, it can rip you to bits.
I remember years back making a final table (stop sniggering, I've already thought of any jokes you might want to post in the comments). It was the first hand of a weekly tournament at Luton Grosvenor, when I was a regular there, despite the 2 hour drive each way to play. Over the course of a few years the place was a source of plenty of money, much happiness, and occasional heartbreak, but those are entirely different stories. I digress. You should be used to that by now from me.
I looked down at the wonderful sight of a red ace and a black Ace. Always good to see. I'd had a brutal run in tournaments for a few months, and had basically willed my way to a final table with very few hands actually being shown down. 9th place paid very little, and 1st would make life a lot easier financially for a while for me. The line up in the final was a murderer's row of regulars. Most were pretty capable players and thinkers of the game, so I decided to be unorthodox. I jammed, under the gun, for about 25 big blinds, hoping to get a bad call, which in Hold 'Em, when you have Aces preflop, you always want..
All folded round to one regular, who sized up the bet, assessed the table, and then said out loud "You know what? I know I'm behind here, but you're so out of form I'm going to call you". He pushed in his chips, and flipped over A9 offsuit against my AA. Hallelujah. Well played Kevin. Start engraving that trophy.
He ran out a full house, 9's full of deuces, and busted me in 9th. Nice hand brother. I think I picked up enough for my hard work to put petrol in the car that night.
The point of this tale isn't to whine about getting busted (no one cares), nor is it to talk about bad luck (it doesn't exist, at least not in the sense most people understand). It's to highlight this wonderful thing that gamblers (in the UK anyway) call "form". It can't really be quantified, yet anyone who has experienced it, either good or bad, will testify as to the stark reality of it's existence. When you're "in form", every draw hits for you, every hand is called by another just a pip worse, and every bluff gets through. You get the trophy, the money and the girl, and leave in a shiny new car with a big novelty cheque. Happy days.
Then of course, there's bad form, or being "out" of form. Far less fun.
An out of form player can't do a thing right. They make good decisions that end up as losers, they fold the winner, and they bubble every tournament, or get their money in as a decent favourite, and get shafted. A lot. Being out of form is a horrible place in which to find oneself, it feels like everything you learnt and know is now in question, and makes you rethink everything, including yourself, and your abilities and life choices. For a poker player, it's about as bad as things can get, and if you don't have the constitution for it, it can rip you to bits.
If you play poker long enough, you'll meet all sorts. People who play terribly, people who play terribly, but think they're actually very good, people who never advance, people who don't need the money and have no interest in advancing. The list goes on and on with a hundred variants in between. It's one of the things about poker I still find fascinating to this day. One of the things about myself I consider an asset (all joking aside most people will tell you I'm not one for blowing my own trumpet) is that I have a good temperament, for both poker and any game that requires focus and longevity. If I slice a ball off the tee at golf or miss an easy putt, or if I rattle the 9-ball in the jaws on a pool table, or even if say, my AA gets shredded by A9 in the final, I accept it for what it was, and move on without any histrionics. I've seen people break cues and golf clubs, scream abuse and go red in the face, and at a poker table in particular, act deplorably. It's not me. It's just a waste of energy, and solves nothing. Stuey Ungar once said that a good loser, is still a loser, and this of course is very true. However I like to think more people will remember me for being the nice guy who was fun at the table, than for being that horrible piece of work who took beats like a child and stomped out of the room because life was unfair and it wouldn't let him win. Being a dick to people will never get the chips back, but it might just plant a seed in their minds for the future, and I think there are enough scumbags in poker already without my name being added to the tally.
Right now, smack bang in the middle of my Spring tournament series, I am well and truly "out of form". I know it, you know it, anyone reading the painful updates knows it. This doesn't affect my mindset or my choices when playing, nor am I bleating that I can't win a hand, a race or a tournament. I just recognise it for what it is. For me, the right thing to do is to knuckle down and stay focused, and to be around when form changes, which inevitably it will. Note there's a huge difference between playing capably and being out of form, and playing badly, and believing that in fact, you're just unlucky. A lot of people don't know the difference, and if you don't, then poker probably isn't for you.
I've made a few bad decisions in events I've played, but generally so far have either got the money in good and been outdrawn, or have been on the draw myself and it's turned to ashes at the wort possible time for me. Almost all of the time, my money has gone in first to put the other player to the decision, which is a fundamental of winning poker, both in cash and tournaments. The unfortunate outcome of this isn't "so sick" as the kids who know it all like to say, it's just standard, and how you handle it and move on when it goes badly says a lot about who you are.
Right now, smack bang in the middle of my Spring tournament series, I am well and truly "out of form". I know it, you know it, anyone reading the painful updates knows it. This doesn't affect my mindset or my choices when playing, nor am I bleating that I can't win a hand, a race or a tournament. I just recognise it for what it is. For me, the right thing to do is to knuckle down and stay focused, and to be around when form changes, which inevitably it will. Note there's a huge difference between playing capably and being out of form, and playing badly, and believing that in fact, you're just unlucky. A lot of people don't know the difference, and if you don't, then poker probably isn't for you.
I've made a few bad decisions in events I've played, but generally so far have either got the money in good and been outdrawn, or have been on the draw myself and it's turned to ashes at the wort possible time for me. Almost all of the time, my money has gone in first to put the other player to the decision, which is a fundamental of winning poker, both in cash and tournaments. The unfortunate outcome of this isn't "so sick" as the kids who know it all like to say, it's just standard, and how you handle it and move on when it goes badly says a lot about who you are.
The WSOP for me or any serious player is always a busy time. I like to pace myself of course as the schedule is gruelling, whichever events you decide to play. The Spring series for me now is not nearly as full on, and I have plenty of down days in between. Of course, if you are in form and doing well and going deep all the time, logic dictates that you should press it up, and keep the good run going. Conversely, in my mind anyway, if you find it's not happening, then screwing down and not spraying around buy-ins is a more prudent approach. Poker will always be around, and a bad run will change. Blowing your whole bankroll trying to force it to change is tantamount to career suicide, yet I've seen plenty of people do it. I think however I'm set financially, I won't ever be the guy who has 7 buy ins just to show the world how indifferent I am to money and how little I care about losing. There are a few of these loons around in both the UK and the US, and even when they occasionally win a tournament with their hyper aggressive approach, nothing is going to convince me they are actually winners at the game, because they aren't.
Were it not for this site, and the interest of a few people, I wouldn't discuss stuff like this at all. The other day one pal suggested jokingly that for this trip, I should just post exactly the same update each time, and just change the title and a few of the words, since the outcome has been pretty similar! Rather than be indignant, I laughed and agreed with him. When form is running bad, it certainly feels like everything is doomed. I guess for me the consolation, and hopefully for the people who know me also, is that I'm not going to spazz off the bankroll for the trip trying to prove I'm the best player on the planet, and massage my ego by telling myself I'm unlucky, and life isn't fair. I am unlucky, and if anyone knows that life isn't bloody well fair, then believe me, I'm the guy to know all about it. But with regards to poker at least, that doesn't actually matter. For now I'll keep plugging away. I'll take breaks, play golf, see movies and friends, do hot yoga at the gym, and refuse to let a bad run crush me. I recently saw "Molly's Game" at the cinema, and one line in it that resonated with me was "the best way to get over feeling bad about losing, is to feel good about winning". Wise words indeed, even if they were only in a movie.
​Venetian $600 day 1B tomorrow. Time to saddle up and try again. Whatever the outcome, I won't be moaning about the unfairness of life. I'll just be trying to play my best and give myself the best chance to turn bad form around.
​Venetian $600 day 1B tomorrow. Time to saddle up and try again. Whatever the outcome, I won't be moaning about the unfairness of life. I'll just be trying to play my best and give myself the best chance to turn bad form around.
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