This is not right. It's December 31st, 2004, - New Year's Eve - winter, and it's sunny and 65 degrees here in Oklahoma, cold and rainy in Las Vegas.
Another thing that's not right. Or rather, a confession of idiocy. Last eve, after bidding adieu to the gang at the PBNLT (Poker Blogger No Limit Table) on the Party network, I left the house to forage for a late night nosh. As is typical of me lately, my mind was filled with a million things (which tends to leave me in awe as to how I am able to get from point A to point B back to A and not remember any part of the trek). When I arrived back at the garage, I'd managed to park not quite far enough in for the garage door to descend unobstructed. I'd only noticed this when I got out of the car and saw a larger distance than normal from the front of the car to the back door. I scoffed at myself for, once again, not paying attention.
I slipped into the front seat of the car, intending to quickly move the car forward. Sitting sort of sideways, car door open, left foot out of the car, I depressed the clutch with my right foot and started the car. You see, I knew I could just let the clutch out a bit and coast a few inches forward and that would be that. And I did just that. What I didn't figure on, was that with my right foot occupied with the clutch, my left foot skidding lightly across the garage floor, I lacked a third foot to hit the brake.
I thudded into the back door-jamb and rebounded a couple of feet before I got it under control, the car safely parked and the garage door down. I checked the front of the car - fortunately no damage. I mentally slapped myself upside the head and was grateful none of the neighbors were about to witness this display of doltishness.
Today after returning from some errands, it occurred to me to check the back door for damage. At first glance, there was nary a scar. At second glance, there was a slant. Inward. I stepped into the laundry room and saw that I'd managed to move the door-jamb about 4 inches forward at the bottom of the door. Happy New Year.
And another thing. All this week after arriving home from visiting The Family in Oregon and being blissfully off from work, I have been experiencing extreme End-of-the-Year-Post Anxiety (EOTYPA). My muse, apparently, has chosen this time to leave for vacation. I had hoped to produce something reflective and profound, rivaling some of those scribes among us whose posts have enhanced and elevated our little blogisphere, leaving the rest of us to tag along behind them, happy to be just breathing the same air they do.
So I'm gonna ramble. Care to follow along?
A year ago I was close to giving up poker. And now, a year later, it is a dominate factor in my life. What changed? Well, first, I began to play better and to experience more success. Success is a potent fuel. It can provide just enough in reserve when variance rears it's scraggly head or when good sense goes out for a smoke and a full blown tilt ensues. But you can't fill up on that success without discipline. That is the number one poker lesson learned from this year. Discipline.
Discipline to play within my bankroll. Too often I would get it into my head that the way to get un-stuck would be to move up in limits. One or two good pots and I'm back to even if not better. It worked, too. But not every time. And those times it didn't work, it really didn't work, compounding my stuck-ness. Fortunately, I was able to apply the brakes and avoid a major crash (unlike the debacle in the garage spoken of above...). I would then be in "start over" mode, back at the micro limits, grinding away - resolute in my determination not to deposit another dime of my own money to fund the cash games.
Discipline to play an "A" game. This was/is much harder to do. I've played nearly every day of the year and more times than I care to count, I've played tired, distracted and like an automaton. I've even been close to napping a few times while clicking away at the tables. This has changed more recently. I've put a quick halt to sessions if I've found, for instance, that I've gone a few rounds and couldn't have told you what the texture of the table was or even how the last hand played out.
Second to discipline, I would say patience is another big lesson learned this year. Patience for the long haul. I hate to end a session down and, as a result, would inevitably stay too long trying to get unstuck. I was failing to see that this game is one long session and that, while I may be down a few dollars now, tomorrow it continues and I can play fresh, focused and ready for the "A" game once again. Understanding this concept has gone a long way to easing the anxiety that washes over me when after a few hours at the tables my bankroll has taken a bite.
Patience while the bankroll builds. This is especially hard for me. I want to move up in limits now but I do not have the bankroll to do so. "Deposit more money," one might say. But I won't do that. I know myself well enough that if I do that, it won't be the only time. It's imperative that I stick with what I have now and continue to build on that at the tables. It's a lot slower road, I know, but I cannot allow myself any other option.
The third big lesson aiding the success rate would be analysis. Scrutinizing the good, the bad and the ugly. I'm a Poker Tracker dunce - it's helpful only to me during play when I use it to get a handle on players at my table. Even so, I usually end up ignoring it - it can be too easy to become overly dependent on it. Tools like Poker Tracker need to be thought of as training wheels at best. The sooner you remove the training wheels, the better for you in the long run, in my opinion. It's a constant chore to look at hands and situations to determine what the mistakes were or, conversely, what went particularly right. I've learned the most from the feedback received by my blogger brethren than I have from any of the software.
I have much to improve on - the math portion of poker primarily. This is a critical skill to master when tough decisions need to be made - especially in tournaments. I've erred on the side of caution too many times and folded because I couldn't manage the math when faced with a hard call. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to master it - my brain cannot manage math. Being slightly dyslexic and very scotopic are barriers that are nearly insurmountable. But, as a result, I'm a person who is very skilled at finding alternate routes. So, if there is another way of mastering it, I will find it.
I also need to fine tune the hand reading skills. I get the blinders on and see only what I have and fail to consider all possibilities of what my opponent may be holding. I have improved vastly, though, in the most recent months - betting patterns are the biggest tell an online opponent has. But I do not consistently put a read on my opponents. I stick too close to only playing my cards too often. However, when I am able to break out of that, it's quite a heady experience to be able to out-play someone with "any two cards" and get them to lay down the best hand!
Still with me? Wow. Thanks.
Without a doubt, indubitably, most definitely, and with emphasis I have to say that my passion for this game has reached such an intense fever because of this poker blogger phenomenon which has morphed into a strangely wonderful crazy community of diverse, interesting, intelligent, talented, funny, nuts, blunt, opinionated, thoughtful, analytical, left-field, right-wing, testosterone laden, on-the-edge, domestic, immature, wicked, virtuous, wise, manic, compassionate bunch of folk.
I was content to just read posts, click through blog rolls, leave an occasional comment or two and learn what I could. I was absolutely thrilled (and still am) when someone would leave a comment on my blog. And then the tournaments began the process of bonding this group together. That lead to seeking one another out at the tables online or sweating each other in tournaments. Being, at my core, a shy person (yes, truly I am) I remember my first "IM" or "ping" (I like "ping" better) from a fellow blogger which has developed into a near nightly, friendly, unobtrusive chat - receiving and lending support, trading the thrill of victories and the agony of de-beats (sorry, that one reeks, but couldn't resist. Muse on vacation, remember?).
Imagine how special I felt when I got my first e-mail from a fellow blogger.... And all of this reached the summit with the gathering in Vegas. The words on the screen now had real people attached to them. New friendships were made and, judging from some of what I've read out there since, old friendships became stronger.
So what the hell does all this mean? Well. Not sure exactly. I know I've discovered something I love to do - play poker. Second to that - study poker. Icing on the cake and a bonus not even Bonus Code IGGY can offer - getting to know other people who love to play and study poker, too. And because of that, I stepped way out of my comfort zone and learned that, well, I can step way out of my comfort zone and not only survive, but have a helluva great time doing it. I highly recommend it to anyone in my age range - it will prevent stodginess and complacency from creeping in and turning you into an "old person." I will not go gently into that night. I refuse to grow up.
I am reticent to set goals or make resolutions for the new year, so I will only say what I hope will happen.
—I hope my game will continue to get better and that I see
more final table finishes in MTT tournaments.
—I hope to expand my game beyond Hold-Em and start honing skills at others
- Stud and O8 at the top of the list.
—I hope to see my bankroll add at least one more digit.
—I hope I'll be meeting more of my blogger brethren at future blogger
gatherings.
—I hope Richard Dean Anderson comes knocking on my door.
(stricken due to lack of relevance)
I will most likely be online, playing poker this evening - New Years Eve is one of 2 holidays unfriendly for single folk, Valentines being the other. So I've taken to staying home and celebrating with the joss sticks at the 4 corners of the house and listening to the revelry on the wind at midnight. And tomorrow I start the year in the best way possible - in the company of my closest friends, savoring a scrumptious breakfast made by the skillfull hands of the best cook I know.
I leave you with another special treat - once again - maximise the browser, turn up the volume, and be patient. It's worth the wait.
