Hello friends.

Holy crap! It's been more than a year ....

Wow. Last post, Dec. 31, 2007. A full year, plus 11 days since my last post. One hundred and five poker games since my last post.
I've often thought about my blog, but have simply never taken time to get it going again. It combines two things I enjoy a lot ... poker and writing.
A lot has happened since Dec. 31, 2007. In a pinch for money, I sold the Deuce Lee Poker Ledger business to a nice fella from Kansas City, who has since moved to Dallas ... just up the road from me. It's a decision I was never proud of. I miss the ledger, miss its potential. If I only had deep pockets to further develop the concept.
I still keep the records, though. I get behind more now. Used to, I'd update before cranking my car if I wasn't at home. But it's not too bad. I caught up my last three games after playing this afternoon and tripling my $25 buy-in at a 12-man tournament.
In my real job, I often comment on how one thing you can't replace is experience. I'm gaining it more and more at the tables.
At 39 years old, I'm looking at my poker career (yes, I said career!), like golf. I may have to be old enough for the Seniors Tour before I play in a WSOP event, but I plan to one day. It's on the bucket list, right up there with loading up one day and visiting minor league ball parks, catching the Foo Fighters live and driving to California to catch up with Scotty.
For now, I'll bide my time at the Palace, my house and the Coffman Casino. And I'll try to blog more.
It's therapeutic, kind of like cashing in a big tournament.

Gotta keep records, man

Here’s the deal, I’m no pro. Would love to be, but I know I’m a long way away, just like the majority of this new generation of TV-generated No Limit Hold ‘Em junkies.

Nevertheless, the game means something to me. I love the recreational value of small home games, but just like my few encounters in the casino, I want to win them all. Well, most of them. For some, the small stakes, cold beer and good friends are worth it just to hang out for the night.

Certain business affairs have sidetracked my blogging frequency, if you can even call it that. This has been more like a hiatus.

I’ve complained about bad beats, mused about some pros, and praised the one and only Deuce Lee Poker Ledger, my creation, and the reason for today’s blog.

With the exception of a small cash game tonight, my 2007 is in the books. Whether you are like me, a dreaming amateur, or one of the bushel full of legitimate pros, it’s a good idea to keep up with your results.

I’d say 90 percent of the people I play with don’t, even though they have Deuce Lee’s. The percentage may even be higher.

Like anything else in life, experience is the key to poker. The more you play, the more you learn, and the better you get, or should get! Because I track my game religiously, I know the exact number of times I played in ’07. I know how many tournaments I was in, how many times I cashed, how many firsts, how I fared in cash games, etc. The ledger’s not perfect (it could use a time played category), but it is so beneficial.

My ability to look at back at the numbers and revisit notes I took only helps my future outings.

Call me obsessive. I am. The comparing numbers, crunching them, seeing where I succeeded and failed jazzes me.

So does poker. Someday, somewhere down the road, I plan on playing in a World Series of Poker event, maybe the main event.

When I do, I’ll know every penny I ever spent playing.

I hope I designed enough room for a five-figured buy-in.

Don't be a donk

After thinking 15 days was a long time in between games, I recently went 21 ... and hardly noticed. The spring gets busy when you have two sons that play summer league baseball, and you coach one of them.
Needless to say, I still believe I'm playing some decent poker this year. I did, however, donk off all my chips last game out, and man was it stupid.
With about eight people left in a game that featured 240,000 chips in play, I was second with a little more than 40k. I got in a pissing match with chip leader holding A-Q off in the small blind. He made a moderate raise of 2.25 the big blind (1,600, raise to 3,600) so I called, as did two others. With a flop of 9-3-7 rainbow, I raised 6,000 post-flop. The other two guys folded, and after some consideration, he called. The turn was another 9, and I fired out 10,000, leaving me with little more than the starting chip count of 20,000. Again, he thought a long time, and called.
The river was a Q. I checked, not really thinking I would trap, but hoping he would too so I did not have to commit any more chips to the pot. He went all in.
Here's a dilemma I seem to often have: I quick call, or at least call without proper evaluation. I could have cut my losses, fought back with what I had left, and would have if anything else had hit on the river. I should have know he was super strong.
He was; pocket kings. I could have at least asked for a chip count. He had me covered by a couple of thousand, and I was toast, left to deal at my own house for more than an hour.
The good news is, we're playing again tomorrow, and I just learned a valuable lesson. The quick call has often been something I've known I need work on (even though usually it works). I also realize I should have sniffed out the monster hand.
I really wasn't upset, because I knew how bad of a play it was. Sometimes lessons are expensive, but can pay off mucho-grande down the road. I can only hope.

Live the dream

When you play poker and dream of playing on TV and winning a title and bucket-load of money, you ultimately dream of the World Series of Poker. Don't look now, but the summer's version is right around the corner.
To get there, you basically have to do one of two things: Take your own bucket-load of money to Vegas, or win a satellite seat, whether brick and mortar or online.
Everyone want's to sit down next to Doyle Brunson or Johnny Chan at the Main Event, but I'd settle for almost any no limit hold 'em tournament at the WSOP. (I would not waste my money on any other game, where I would be such an underdog, the chances would be better for the Golden State Warriors to beat the Dallas Mavericks in the first round of the NBA playoffs. Wait ... scratch that.)
But, I do dream of playing in the Main Event. And, for me, the only way to get there would be through a satellite, more than likely an online satellite. They're everywhere ... Full Tilt, Poker Stars, Bodog, Absolute Poker, etc. Personally, I will try this spring through Full Tilt, only because of the free rolls.
Those free rolls usually include 315 players. Only one moves on, and that's to another satellite. It would be nothing short of miraculous to win a seat to the Main Event through this route, but right now, it's the best option I have.
So, I'll keep toiling, playing the free rolls at Full Tilt and hoping for a miracle. I'd love nothing more than have July come and find myself saying, "Hello Gus Hansen. I'm one of your biggest fans."

Away too long

This is strange. Very strange. I am on Day 13 without poker. Somewhere a commercial looms … “side effects include irritability, mood swings and possibly death.”
It’s not that I do not want to play. I do. Things just are not working out. The thing I am most interested in is … what has this break done to my game?
As I have stated before, I am far from a professional, far from the best player in my home game. I play as much as possible, and over the previous 13-day period before my current hiatus, I played six times. I was down for that time period, both in terms of cash and spirit.
I had talked about, wrote about, taking some time off. Never did I think it would be for this long. Further complications have come from work assignments and coaching little league baseball. This weekend, Easter has wiped out any chance of playing.
So, I think I could be looking at more than 20 days off before I play again. Holy moly!
I can’t imagine Daniel Negreanu, Phil Ivey or even Joseph Hachem taking so much time off. (Of course, if they do, they can afford to!) Then again, I can’t imagine playing for 35 days at the World Series of Poker with little or no break.
But, I am no Negreanu, Ivey or Hachem. I do want to improve my game, and I really believe the time away will help. I can’t play much worse than I was before.
Looking back through my ledger, I can see the last few weeks of action were … well, pitiful. There’s only one way to go … yeah, I know the cliché is up, but I meant to the card room! Where ever it may be.

Why do we play?

The same thing that makes me want to rip out my heart and give up cards apparently makes me want to write. Bad beats frustrate poker players to no end.
But, "bad beat" is a term overused in card rooms and at dining tables, up there on the poker cliche board with "that's poker."
Tuesday night I truly suffered at the hands of a "bad beat."
Playing in a recreational, super-fun .25-.50 cash game, I raised to $2.50 with Ks-Kh. World Series of Poker main event veteran Tony Marquis (he played once!) made a big deal of my preflop raise! "Whoooaaaa!," he quipped.
The loosest player at the game raised all in. With $15.50 left, it was an instant call. He had 4c-4h. I was a 4-to-1 favorite preflop.
The flop was A-J-2, all spades. I just improved to 95 percent. Then it came ... the 4 of diamonds, the only ... I stress ONLY ... card he could catch to beat me.
With a 1-in-5 chance to hit a spade or king, the river was a blank, I was busted, and with that kind of luck, I passed my chips over and left.
Perhaps I was fortunate I did not have more money on me. Probably not, though.
A guy that plays that fast and loose is begging for someone to take his chips. I didn't quite have the necessary $20 to rebuy, but someone would have given it to me. The emotional side of me said, "Leave, it's going to be that type of night."
The balanced poker player in me said, "Stay, and you'll get your chips back, plus some."
Emotions won out.
I joked with friends this week I would retire after some rough outings (see previous blogs!) and one night of just foolish play. I can tell you I never got lucky with a one outer! Two tournament wins over the weekend, one when I suffered another river suckout to cripple me early -- only to come back with 1/4 a starting stack -- renewed my spirit.
Truth is, I want to play again. Now. With the lucky f-er that risked $18 on 4s. With Doyle Brunson, Joe Sebok, Ben Affleck ... anyone.
My day will come. That much I know.
What I don't know is if I'll ever make a stupid decision, catch a one-outer and bust someone out of a game.
At least I'd apologize.