Even More Bad Beats

Note: if you want a reference for poker lingo, click here.

My wife Carrie is out of town this week, plus my consulting business remains slow, so I found myself playing in tournaments every day. Even though I promised myself to take a break, I get up around 7 AM, read and answer emails, talk to business colleagues, work on securing funding for a major business project, talk to my software developers about another business project, work on a few small projects around the house, and then have nothing to do by about noon, so I check for a tournament, head to the ATM for some cash, and end up in a poker room somewhere in Vegas.

I’ve been having a few min-cashes lately, including in the World Series of Poker Circuit tournament at the Horseshoe Casino, but for the last two weeks, I’ve still been dogged by those nasty bad beats (I mistyped this initially as “bad beasts,” which I kind of like because these bad beats are bad beasts). I can deal with a day or two of bad beats, but a whole string of 10-hour days of them really wear on me.

The Venetian Casino

I played several days in a row at The Venetian. There, I mostly had no playable cards for hours on end while my stack dwindled to nothing. For several hours straight (to borrow from Dave Barry, “I am not making this up”), no hand I was dealt had either card above a 7. I also rebought into tournaments multiple times per day, even though I told myself I wouldn’t. It’s hard to sit for hours and just fold, fold, fold, waiting for some decent hand. And as my stack dwindled, it became harder to bluff because no one was afraid to call me or even raise me, given that my firepower, in terms of chips, was nil.

The Aria Casino

Then last Monday, it seemed my luck had turned when I entered the U.S. Poker Open Satellite. A satellite tournament is one where the fee is much smaller than the main tournament, but some percentage of the finishers, typically 10%, get a ticket into the more expensive main tournament. The U.S. Poker Open is a prestigious tournament attended by many of the best players in the world. The entry fee for the first event in the tournament series was $5,100 but the satellite was only $560. I played against a number of world class players there including Matt Affleck, who I’ve been playing against a lot lately, and author/psychologist Maria Konnikova.

On the first hand I played, maybe the fourth or fifth hand of the day, I got A♣A♠, something I hadn’t seen once in three 10-hour days at The Venetian. I think I got too excited, though, like the first time I was with my wife… well... let’s get back to poker. I was under the gun (first player to act) and the table had been pretty aggressive, so I did a min-raise, expecting someone to reraise, after which I would raise again and scoop up a giant pile of chips. Instead, a few players simply called my bet. The flop was 3♠4♣7♠. I bet big, and everyone folded to the player in the small blind position who tripled my bet. I figured that he didn’t put me on As, so he might have hit top pair or had an over pair, so I raised him. He immediately shoved. Now the smart thing for me to do was to fold, but it had been so long since I had seen those beautiful aces that I was wont to bid them goodbye (as they say in steamy romance novels). Also, I had a backdoor straight and a backdoor flush, meaning I needed two cards to complete the straight or flush. Also, I figured that he might have flopped two pair, but with two cards to come, I could still win, I told myself. So instead of folding, I called and sure enough, he had 3♣7♣ giving him two pair and a backdoor flush draw, which he ended up getting, just to rub salt in my wounded ego. I busted out. Ironically, I found myself on the opposite side of this exact position in a tournament a few days later, but as I’ll describe later, I got screwed in that hand too. Which makes me start to get paranoid, thinking that I’m going to lose every hand no matter which side of the odds I’m on.

I bought back into the satellite. I had a few wins that built up my stack nicely, and then I flopped the nuts (best hand), a straight. Another player bet. I raised. He shoved. I was thrilled to call his bet with the best possible hand. He had flopped a set (three of a kind), but then he rivered a full house to take half my stack. Then I rivered the low end of a straight (holding 67 with 8 9 10 on the board) only to lose to a higher straight (holding JQ). As my stack dwindled, I got A8 and called another player’s raise. The flop was AQ7. I bet, he called. The turn was A. I had trip aces! My stack was at about 8 big blinds, so I shoved. I was surprised when he instantly called and showed… pocket Qs for a full house. An A or 8 on the river would save me, but it didn’t come.

The Wynn Casino

It was early, so I drove over to the Wynn for a multi-day tournament. There, I was doing OK until I once again rivered a straight, shoved against a very aggressive player who called with… a bigger straight. This was not a case of a low end straight against a high end straight. I might have been cautious in that scenario. This was me having the second nuts (holding 8 10 with 7 9 J Q on the board) and him having the nuts (holding 10 K). Only one hand beat me, but he had it.

I bought back into the tournament and was suddenly getting great hands and building a big stack. I was getting big pocket pairs and winning almost every hand I played. I was soon the table chip leader and possibly the tournament chip leader. Things had turned around! Or so, I thought. Then I started losing hands and my stack started getting low. Finally, I had A something—I don’t remember because I didn’t make a note and it didn’t really matter. The flop was QQA. I figured I was good as long as the other player didn’t have a Q, so I shoved, hoping to keep the other player from catching a better hand. The other player quickly called with… quad Qs.

The next day, I finished my work at home and went back to The Wynn. Once again, I started getting great cards and building a big stack. I got pocket aces three times in a couple hours, which is very unusual, given that pocket aces are statistically only expected once every 221 hands. Then I got pocket Js. Another player raised big, and I called. The flop was Q65. I figured I was good as long as he didn’t have a queen, so I shoved. He called with… AQ. Then I was in the big blind with 82. The player under the gun min-raised and everyone at the table called, so I also called. I was getting good “pot odds” meaning that I was putting in only a few chips for a possible 8:1 return on investment. The flop was 82J, giving me two pair. I shoved. The player to my left called and let out a huge sigh of disappointment when he saw my two pair against his pocket Qs. Despite the odds being about 3:1 in my favor after the flop and 4.5:1 in my favor when a 7 showed up on the turn, the Q on the river busted me out.

So I again entered the cheaper evening tournament at The Wynn. My stack got low until I started building it up with a series of small wins. When we were just 15 places from the money, I got pocket 7s. One player raised and I called. The flop was 246, so I shoved with my over pair. The other player hesitated before calling with A 10. I was ecstatic (though I showed no emotion at the table, of course). I was more than a 3:1 favorite. And why did he even call my bet without a pair or a draw? That was a really bad play on his part. But of course, a 10 came on the river to bust me out.

Variance

When I complain about my long series of bad beats, most poker players say, “that’s poker” and talk about “variance,” which is the name for fluctuations in results. Statistically, if you flip a coin over and over, ideally each flip will be the opposite of the previous one. But in reality, there will be sequences of heads and sequences of tails. And sometimes there will be very long sequences of one or the other. That’s variance. My problem is that for two years, I seem to be seeing long sequences of one without a corresponding long sequence of the other. For some reason, several years ago, before COVID (though I’m not tying it in with COVID, but then again…) I was cashing in every 3^rd or 4^th tournament. For two years, it’s been about every 10^th tournament. Once again, I’m coming to believe that mathematics is just wrong and/or the controller of the universe really hates me.

Nice people

I want to say that I’ve generally been playing against nice people, which makes sitting at a table with them for hours much more bearable if not enjoyable. We usually kibbitz with each other and sometimes tease each other. Once in a while there is some jerk that gets me angry, but it seems to be rarer. I also feel more tolerant of some players’ eccentricities, like Jeff who brings his German Shepherd with him to each game and talks nonstop about the dog. Jeff’s been friendly and I can steer his conversation to other topics, and his dog always sleeps on my feet but never makes sound or creates a disturbance.

Which reminds me that I ran into 2006 WSOP champion Jamie Gold at the Horseshoe and had an opportunity to apologize to him. I had sat at his table at the last WSOP and he busted shortly after I got there. As he was leaving, I said “Hey Jamie, if you ever want poker lessons, I’m available.” I say that to a lot of the pros as a joke, but he didn’t say anything. First, I realized that he had just busted and I know that never puts anyone in a good mood (except maybe Daniel Negreanu, who always seems to be in a good mood). Second, the table started talking about how one player at the table had been teasing and criticizing Jamie at the table. Third, there’s a belief among many poker players that Jamie just got very lucky to win the WSOP and that he’s not a very good player and has few tournament cashes in his career except that one.

So I told him I wanted to apologize and explained how I made a joke that might have been taken the wrong way and that I actually had respect for him. He smiled, shook my hand several times, and thanked me. He said he didn’t remember the joke and didn’t remember being offended but that he appreciated that I’d come up to him and say something.

Kosher Poker

Last Sunday was the Kosher Poker/Chai Roller tournament at my synagogue Temple Beth Sholom to raise funds for the Jewish Federation of Nevada. There were some celebrity poker pros among the players including Stu Marshak, who is president of the synagogue Men’s Club, Andy Bloch who is also a member of the congregation and one of the original MIT blackjack card counters fictionalized in the movie 21, and invitees David Williams and Israeli-American Eli Elezra, one of the most successful players of all time.

My friend Ken Heck, previous president of the synagogue Men’s Club, decided to play for the first time. I ran into him with a giant stack at one of the tables. He was grinning ear to ear. He told me that he had just knocked out two other players. He had never played before but had watched a free video the night before. When the app tried to charge for the second video, he terminated his poker lessons at that point. I ended up beating him in a hand and taking half his stack, to which he slapped me on the back and said that he was glad I’d won the hand because otherwise I’d never hear the end of it… from him. But later, after I busted out at #12 out of 93, I saw Ken was still in it with a decent stack. When he made the final table, he was thrilled and had a big crowd cheering for him, including me. He was getting great hands and making all the right plays to build up a dominating stack. He made two particularly great plays that also turned out when he got the winning cards including a flopped full house. Each time, he jumped up from his seat, high fiving everyone around him.

As the chip leader with 3 players left, he made one mistake that cost him the tournament. He had AK and decided to do a small raise rather than a big one. This kept the other players in the hand ,and on the flop, when he shoved with only A-high, another player called with a flush to take the lead from Ken who busted out in third place shortly afterwards. Still he was ecstatic, and everyone had a good time.

Shout out to Eli Elezra!

The best part about the Kosher Poker tournament was that I went over to talk to Eli Elezra. I had been introduced to him over email several years ago but hadn’t ever spoken to him. When he saw me, he looked at my name tag and said “I know you. You write that poker blog. I have to tell you that I never read poker blogs. Except for yours. I really enjoy it. I save it and read it at the poker table.” He then signed one of his books to me. That was really cool. I may not be reaching my goal in poker yet, but I guess my poker is entertaining people, so that’s enough. (Not really, but it’s something).

About the author

Bob Zeidman is a high-stakes recreational poker player. He created Good Beat Poker, a free online poker site using patented technology for audio and video—see and hear the other players at the table if you choose.