OFF TOPIC: The Game

A friend inspired me to hunt down some of my old writings.. glad she did, I'm fond of this story.

There is no poker here.. only an analogy of life through chess.. so move on;


The Game

Edinburgh , 1996

Ticktockticktockticktocktick.... The relentless sound of the clock beats through the room, the only sound in the air, the occasional cough, or sniff disturbs the concentration, but always ticktockticktockticktocktick. Ideas flitted unbidden, some worthy of note, some idle speculation, mostly hopes, which would be dismissed contemptuously. The air was stuffy, closing in, nervous energy had nowhere to be expended but the rapid beating of the heart. Ticktockticktockticktocktick... time, slowly running away, the anticipation of winning, but the fear that it could all too easily disappear. What to do? Plans formed and tantalisingly flitted away with the realisation of being too appealing for their own good, unnecessary complications, simplicity. Ticktockticktockticktocktick... again the clock beat its way into the mind, the eye glanced at the clock, panic, time running out, anticipation of winning, complications, simplifications, move.
A hand stretched out, shaking, anger at showing a weakness. Move. The hand hovered unsure. Move. The other side stirs in expectation. Move. Can't turn back now. Move. A piece is slided from one square to another.

Wrong move.

Alarm bells ring through the mind, wrong move, as soon as the piece was touched, bile rises, everything becomes clear, too late to stop.
The clock stops as the shaking hand presses down on the monotonous tock...clunk...t icktockticktockticktocktick…. the other side of the timepiece cheerfully ticks its mockery.
The move is finished. From the other side the posture changes, form hunched to straight-backed, from submissive to oppressor, the other side moves a piece in reply...clunk... ticktockticktockticktocktick , in a snide tone, and with dreadful clarity the other side mentions.
"Check."
Game over. Mate in three. The chessboard wavers through a haze...the game is lost...failure...humiliation. Defeat.

From across the board, the opponent offers a hand, a friendly smile, you smile back, a fake smile, behind which lies dark thoughts. You shake hands.
"I think you over extended yourself in the middlegame" he says from behind a friendly smile.
"Possibly" you reply, you know you didn't, you had won, he knows it, one move. Wrong move.
"Its unusual for the knight to be placed right here," pointing, "It was interesting".
"Mmmm" you reply, the knight move was brilliant, it won the game, you had won, he knows it, one move. Wrong move.
"Never mind, better luck next time" a friendly smile.
"Yeah" you reply, luck doesn't come into it, you had won, he knows it, one move, not unlucky, just the wrong move.

The clocks had stopped, of course other clocks were still going, but you didn't take any notice of them, after all they had nothing to do with your game. The large hall was packed wall to wall with rows of chessboards, most were empty, but a few still played on. The harsh neon lights were bright casting shadows, everybody in the room spent their time hunched over a board. Jacque was waiting outside, as always he was looking unkempt and unwashed. His shoulder length brown hair always managed to hang over his face, and as always a checkered shirt. This one was blue.
"How did you do, it looked pretty good when I last looked.", as always Jacque managed to say the one thing that would hit you like a knife, it was a gift, or a curse, however, it was impossible to hate him for it, you just got used to it.
"I got cheated, he was pretty much finished, but I blundered near the end, I allowed him to get a check in which led to mate in three" one move. Wrong move. "Come on, I feel like a drink."
"Yeah, me too, I won by the way" Jacque usually did.
"Great, at least one of us won anyway," I don't care if you won, I lost. "There must be a pub round here."
Leaving the building into the fresh air, we selected a street that went somewhere vaguely towards the centre of town looking for a pub.

My name is Kieran Townsend, I'm sixteen, and unless you neglected to read until this paragraph, I play chess, in a way I'm both proud of it and embarrassed by it, I certainly would not tell a girl I liked I played chess. I may be naive but I'm not stupid. But I certainly am not against using it in a curriculum vitae, people tend to assume that people who play chess are clever, and I can only assume they know different chess players to me.
I'm about six foot, rounded up that is, rounded up from five eight as a matter of fact. I've always thought I was fairly plain looking, a few spots, nothing more than teenage acne, mousy short hair, bluish eyes, and a face too friendly for its own good. I'm not.
Well, its not that I'm unfriendly, but when you've got a face which makes old men at bus stops to suddenly want to tell you about their colostomy bag, you tend to scowl a lot more.
Jacque on the other hand, is a lanky thirty year old, he doesn't seem to be that clever, but he does have a degree in psychology, which just goes to show appearances can be deceiving. He's a fairly untidy, as am I, but there is a matter of extremities. Jacque is a fairly likeable guy five percent of the time, and annoying for ninety-five percent of the time, but someone's got to buy drinks for me. I suspect this is how you learn to tolerate people,
Sure, hi, how are you doing, now go buy drinks.
However, he was from my chess club and I felt obliged not to tell him to sod off.
This weekend's chess tournament is my first weekend away from parents, and I was determined to enjoy it, despite losing. In a way its something you learn to accepted, and even in losing, you feel gutted, but the sheer onslaught of emotion, whether it be the joy of victory or the pain of defeat, both strangely enjoyable just for the rush of emotion which cannot be felt elsewhere amongst the dull mundane flow of life.
Of course the first order of business when away for the first time without parents, is, without putting too fine a point on it, is to get pissed. Yes, its weak, its a bit sad, great no parents, lets get pissed, but I'm sixteen, society lets me get away with a lot of stuff that otherwise would be contemptible.
Jacque is rambling about his game, I don't care, but I do the obligatory smile, nod and the occasional yeah. It constantly amazes me that most people think that the smile, nod and occasional yeah indicates interest, you do it yourself, but have you ever done it when you're actually interested?
"Yeah," nod, smile
"What's her name?"
"What?!" of course the danger with the nod, smile, yeah technique is that you might lose track of the conversation, and if the conversation suddenly requires your participation then you're in trouble, time to think. He said what's her name, so he wants a girls name. Of course it would be easy to say the name of someone you know, but you know you'll feel twice as guilty, not only are you lying but you've involved someone innocent into your lie. I'm mildly neurotic.
"Oh, Mar-" not Mary, how contrived is that, ok some people are called Mary but its a lying name, its a name you give when you're lying, "iese, yeah, Mariese." What sort of name is that!? Sounds french for heavens sake. Not that's theres anything wrong with being French.
You see, lying is more trouble than its worth.
"Nice, is she pretty?" At this point, I thank Jacque for being fairly gullible.
"Yeah, she even tried out being a model, she didn't get in, but still, a failed model isn't bad." What the hell was that, a failed model, she'll be the great-granddaughter of Duke Moseby next. I'm sure I never even thought of that lie, it just came out, an instinctive lie. In a way I'm lucky, nobody would believe I was going out with a model, but a failed model is slightly more believable, not much more, but more believable.
"Cool, Tell you what, why don't you bring her along on Tuesday, have a few drinks with me and Sarah."
Naturally, its times like this which I really loathe myself.
"Yeah, we'll see" When you do lie, buy yourself some time to concoct a better lie.
"What about this pub, looks ok" Jacque is already through the door before I remark that it bears more than a passing resemblance to a morgue. However inside its a little comfier, I sit down in the corner, while Jacque totters off to buy the drinks, pint of lager for him, and a pint of Guinness for me.

"Here's your drink," Jacques hand placed the black pint on the table.
"Yeah, thanks" Looking about the room this was definitely a locals pub, people sat quietly engaged in conversations whispered over the Queen music being blared from an unseen jukebox, poor Freddie doing his best to convince that fat bottomed girls make the world go round across the muttered conversation of a roomful of lives.
After a couple of drinks, and inane conversation, we left the pub, I was gratified to note a plaque commemorating the buildings origins as a 1920's morgue.
We wandered from pub to pub taking turns to buy rounds and became very drunk, very quickly and I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that despite my admittedly limited experience, that no alcohol is no fun, yet too much alcohol is definitely not much more fun either, the latter was quickly becoming a problem, trees had an uncanny habit of jumping out at you when you weren't looking, the bastards, if you pardon my french.
* * * *
Ticktockticktockticktocktick ... the game began, what to do, pawn to e-four ... clunk ... ticktockticktockticktocktick
* * * *
On the whole, it had been a dreadful, day, two bad moves and two lost games, it was becoming a habit, Jacque was more annoying than usual, although admittedly this had a lot to do with losing the games. I was actually looking forward to a quiet night, maybe catching a film at the cinema later, a couple of drinks, no Jacque.
The silent hum of the microwave came to an abrupt halt with a ping, the student halls of residence weren't that bad, the communal kitchen didn't actually have a cooker, but in the microwave era, who cares? The kitchen was actually fair sized, a large table with six chairs took up a large portion, but the kitchen led into another smaller section, with the microwave in, as well as an electric kettle.
I opened the microwave and picked up my microwave meal, and after putting it down on the table I spent the next two minutes agonising about my burnt fingers. Jacque sat quietly, smirking, taking a drink from one of the cans of cider I had bought from the student shop on campus. I took a long drink from my can, when I realised it was going to be tricky eating a microwave meal without cutlery, although I found carrot and peas can be eaten without too much skin tissue flaking, and the chips were fine, the pie was a different matter, it was one of those ones which had the shortbread type top. I resigned myself to dipping my remaining chips in the pie and using the top as a scoop.
Just as I finished, two men entered, one was about six foot one, light brown hair, a smile and a habit of walking into chairs by the name of Alex, the other about my height, Asian, and very happy, both looked early twenties, the tall white guy(to me six one is tall) introduced himself, he was fairly drunk, although I learnt later that he was sober about once a month, which is something which is innately respectable, he was also Dutch which explained his rate of sobriety, the other was an Asian guy, who introduced himself as Sam, whom was English himself, Sam was a likeable guy, and even in my distaste for likeable people, I still couldn't help liking him.
There is something about the communal kitchen, which even unsociable people like myself suddenly feel happy to talk to total strangers, and vice versa, and before long myself, Jacque, Sam and Alex were happily chatting about life, women, psychology, sex, drugs, law, the last one was introduced by Sam bizarrely, he didn't seem the law type. For about three quarters of an hour this talk lasted before Alex got up to leave and invited Sam, me and Jacque to a party in a marquee somewhere near a hockey club.
The quiet night suddenly looked a lot less quiet.
Alex left as three girls walked in, one went into the alcove to fill up the kettle and the other two sat down at the table, Sam obviously had already been introduced and said hi, and I was fairly grateful for him introducing me and Jacque, the girls introduced themselves as Lucia, Graccia, and Noami, they all had dark hair, Graccia being the tallest, about five nine and Noami the smallest, about five foot five, they mentioned they were Spanish spending a year at Leeds university, to say the girls were attractive would be exactly the thought going through my mind, but in all truth the thoughts going through my mind was more of a ‘um, er, hi, no, help, wow' if you wish me to be less literate but more honest.
However, my tongue recovered and thanks to the can of cider I had hurriedly drank earlier, fairly sociable.
" Edinburgh is much nicer than Leeds, Leeds is not nice" Graccia replied to Sam's question,
"Yes, the English is better than in Leeds , I think, they speak funny" Noami added.
"Us English tend to have trouble learning other languages, you seem to be able to speak English fine" Jacque interjected getting a smile from the girls.
"We don't bother learning other languages, we just make everybody else learn English" I smiled, it was my first contribution to the conversation, and I was fairly proud of it, it even got a small laugh, however I had a sneaking suspicion it was more polite than out of any genuine humour.
"Most of this country are generally xenophobic" Sam agreed, the word xenophobic obviously throwing the Spanish. "Actually aren't the Spanish stealing our fish"
"We do not steal your fish," said a slightly indignant Lucia.
"You know," after the success of the first comment I was getting braver, "I don't know how you tell which fish are English, I doubt they wear bowler hats and hold umbrellas saying 'Hello, any chance of a cup of tea around here?' " again I got a small laugh, but it seemed forced in my mind, quickly saved Jacque had a genius of an idea,
"Why don't you girls come along to a party we're going too, its at a marquee down the Napier hockey club."
"Er..." Lucia answered and spoke to the others in Spanish before answering "Ok. Sounds fun, we're going to get something to eat from the fish shop and then we'll get ready."
"Ok...we're leaving about ten o'clock" Sam got up as well.
"Ok Bye." Said Noami as they got up to leave.
"Bye" we replied in unison.
Please remember, I'm only sixteen, seventeen in about a couple of weeks, I have always been fairly introverted, and the idea of three pretty Spanish eighteen year old students taking an active interest in me was a fairly exciting prospect. I went back to my room and looked out the window, the comet Hale-Bopp was up high over the hill which dominated the rear of the halls of residence, I got ready, shaved, put deodorant on, and a clean T-shirt, for the first time in my life I felt happy with my life.


I'll rush through the next three hours for sake of boring you with details of the party which consisted of good drink(although the girls were almost tee-total, which while removed any possibility of getting them drunk certainly made buying them drinks cheaper), disco music, and modern music. It was slightly embarrassing that the Spanish girls knew more of the words to YMCA by the Village People than I did.
The Marquee was doing a reasonable job of pretending to be a club, the lights flicked its random colours, mildly surreal against the grass ‘floor'. The bar itself, several adjoining fold up tables, and amongst the rabble of youth, I managed to be served with no less trouble than a slightly knowing cheeky smile.
The music played through the ancient speakers slapped against the corners of the marquees, less for positioning, but possibly more to protect the poles holding the tent up from the assorted drunks. To the amusement of all, everyone sat down on the ground when ‘Sit Down' by James came on, a joke best appreciated whilst under the influence. I could only hope the Spanish girls would be so willing to repeat the joke to ‘Take your clothes off when you dance' by Frank Zappa.

Myself and Sam talked to Noami, the other two were quiet and said nothing so we gave up and Jacque embarrassed himself by dancing like a madman all night, if you would imagine the dancing styles of Fred Astaire and Michael Jackson combined is the closest approximation I can give at this time.
The night wound down, I hadn't embarrassed myself, and even managed to hold a conversation for longer than five minutes with Noami. A feat that I felt pretty proud of. The assorted drunks slowly filtered away.
We split up from the girls whom had their own car, while, Sam(who admitted smoking a joint before we left, which didn't shock me that much), Jacque(whom I have already mentioned had embarrassed himself by getting extremely drunk and danced like a octopus who has just heard of garlic sauce) and myself(I was also a little drunk, but I could still walk in a straight line if I concentrated, well if I concentrated really hard and had a wall to hold on to) and despite our drunken ramble through the streets, on a quest for chicken and chips near a remote hockey club at 2am, we actually found food and hailed a cab back. To our surprise our ramble round the back streets of Edinburgh hadn't delayed us as long as we suspected, and somehow managed to arrive back at the halls of residence before Noami, Lucia and Graccia.
We amused ourselves eating our food in the kitchen, making inane chat, whilst Jacque attempted to heat his chicken to supernatural levels in the microwave.

When the Spanish girls did get back, Graccia and Lucia said goodnight immediately. Sam and Jacque went into Sam's room with the door open to have a drink, that is Jacque drank and Sam smoked a joint, apparently it was against his religion to drink, I respect that but his religion seemed to have an open door policy on everything else.

Somehow, I found myself talking to Noami in the hallway, we talked on fairly diverse subjects in the twenty minutes we chatted, from England to love to world conservation. I finally mentioned that it was getting late and I worked up the courage to give her a goodnight kiss on the cheek, just a peck, she however kissed my neck, now I'm not a master reader of body language or signals, but I felt that a kiss on the neck was a little more than a good night kiss, especially as she hadn't stopped kissing it yet. In reply I kissed her neck, she arched her neck backwards and I moved my hands around her waist as she pulled herself towards me, my mind was reeling, good things don't happen to me surely. I wasn't complaining mind you, quite the opposite, but I was in danger of suffering shock and going comatose.
Our lips found each other and we started to kiss, passionately at first then slowly and sensuously, we managed to move despite kissing from the wall and against my door, I fumbled for my key while she explored my mouth, when I found the key I regretfully pulled away from her and unlocked the door, Noami pushed the handle down and pushed the door and myself and her into the room, she closed the door and in the minimal glow of the full moon we fell into bed.
* * * *
Ticktockticktockticktocktick ... The hand was old, withered, but steady as a rock, moved silently over the dark pieces, pawn forward, clunk... ticktockticktockticktocktick. The reply was expected, I curved my eyebrows together and thought.

* * * *

I'm sixteen. I'm a virgin. I was nervous. Lets just leave it, no excuses.

We had a nice chat thou.
* * * *
The next day came and went, things went well, but the pain of the first lost game still ran a little deep. The tournament over, the boards being cleared up and the prizes had been given out. Myself and Jacque wandered to the pub, with several of the players from our area down in Newcastle .
It is something to a sixteen year old, to be amongst people twice your age, yet be regarded as a their peer. In chess, age means very little, but mental strength can go a long way.
I sat back, as we conversed about the various games, discussed moves, slipping into popular media such as films and music as the alcohol and atmosphere took effect.
It was a first taste of independence. I opened my eyes, lit up a cigarette, and looked about the bar. So many people of various ages and minds, but all at one point shared that common theme of independence. The first taste of which is more intoxicating that any drug.
The Opening was over. The game had begun; my life still had so many of the complications to go.
* * * *
The opening was an old one, simplistic, the foregone moves had been repeated through the ages ad infinitum, ticktockticktockticktock, … The board a myriad of the pieces, slowly forming into ever more complex possibilities, the mind engaged, I moved, my opponent, hunched, for the first time, sat and thought. Ticktockticktockticktock Middlegame.
* * * *
London , 2004

The clocks clicked in unison as I watched by the sidelines, my game already over, the older grandmaster no longer the power he once was, had collapsed early. I briefly chatted to the surrounded journalists before engaging in a quest to find a strong cup of coffee and a cigarette.
The London masters tournament was one of the biggest European chess tournaments, I would have the chance to play against some of the greatest minds in the world, and to be perfectly honest I was frightened to death. Not that it showed, I was pleased to note that my reputation for callousness and cold logic was growing, so many of my opponents seemed to have lost already before we played, my ego able to rampage joyfully through the assorted ranks of their minds.
The journalists nearby probed with simplistic questions, twenty four years of age, cutting a swathe through every grandmaster whom had faced him, England's greatest hope for a world champion, and it seemed the British chess press couldn't get enough of it.
Neither could I. Being the centre of attention has a manner of making you drunk. I left them behind, their cameras and attention quickly fading.
I flicked the switch on the key ring, the Mercedes beeped as the alarms set themselves down.
Driving out of the parking lot out of the hotel garage into the flittering rainy streets of London was mildly refreshing.
I've never been one to hate the rain. As long as the rain keeps falling after the sun, then the world is still ticking over on its endless cycle it seems. The rain, somehow washing away the sins of the human expansion over its land, a reminder of whom man is part of, where he originates, the rain falls when he is born, and it shall drip its mourning when he's gone.
* * * *
The middlegame was familiar, it had been played before in some guise or another a thousand times in history. To us right now, it was new, exciting, ticktockticktockticktock, the sound of the clock relentless, as finally Andronov made his move, he had better moves he could play, the length of the match maybe taking its toll, the final game of 24, he knew fine well he had to win or lose his world title. Ticktockticktockticktock. I sat back and surmised my course of action.
* * * *
The Apartment was empty. A certain ghostly feel to the place, a single sheet of A4 resting on the expensive coffee table.
It was signed by Rhiannon. She wasn't the first, nor probably would she be the last in this course of action, my obsession of becoming world champion too much, too strong for her to cope with. Bags had been packed and a train boarded as I made each move closer to my destination on the chessboard.
Everyone has their own life to lead, but for some being on the leash to someone elses ambition isn't enough to satisfy them. Not for Rhiannon, and I had seen this coming.

The letter spelt out where she was going, if I hurried, maybe I could stop her. But her intention was clear. World Champion was the only thing I cared about, and in many ways she was right.

I boiled the kettle, and stirred the steaming water into the cup, tea leaves infusing themselves into it unbidden, but relentless. Taking my tea, I lifted a cigarette from the packet, Lit it, and slowly drank the tea.
I had met Rhiannon at a press conference, a PR officer for The Times newspaper, so elegantly supporting the tournament at the time, in exchange, their image burned into the eyes of whomever cared to watch us play.
Rhiannon was smart, funny, and she didn't have a clue how to play chess, and despite my attempts never indicated any desire to learn. I remember her laugh, I mean, she really laughed, we all know what a laugh is, but to see one in such flow was a beautiful thing to watch. Her every muscle relaxed and tensed as she erupted in amusement in what I can only describe as a silvery bellow of a laugh.
The trivial things she did came to mind like never before, she used hold her head up to be kissed before pulling away at the last moment, kissing my nose and grinning before turning her attention elsewhere. Her tongue always popped out involuntary when something frightened her in a film, or on tv. I already missed that.
We found common ground through music and cinema, we matched through our likes and dislikes. When it comes to people, you must remember, its not so much what you are like, but perhaps more what you like that is truly important. Perhaps this is shallow to some extent, but people are shallow, no matter how much they care to hide it.

I put the cup of tea down, bent over, as tears washed slowly down my face. Alone, my cold pretensions were meaningless.

The flowery signature, out of place under the exact lettering above, spelt out my imperfections blurring under the flow.

My mother had died a year ago today. A car accident, drunk driver at the wheel of another car. I had come close to breaking, dropping out of several tournaments and refusing to train for several months, to lose ones mother at the tender age of twenty three is a sorrowful one.
The drunks wife had paid us a visit, a bouquet of flowers her dedication, as if to some way ease our grief.
With thoughts and feelings intangible, we can only display them through the sacrifice of material goods. We buy the dead gifts, a coffin, a gravestone, whatever toots your whistle, as if to give your loss a material price. How much of your capital are you willing to sacrifice to show you care?
It's a cold heartless world, chess is the ultimate reflection of this, we barter our pieces, for whatever imagined gain to either party.
Perhaps we will evolve to the point where we can display our grief in a more honest way, but for now we make do with the excelsior mark v coffin, with deluxe red silklining, solid black mahogany in matching colour to the imported marble headstone, with the chipped words ‘Will be sorely missed'

Somehow it never seems enough, no part of yourself is in there, so let me make a suggestion right now. Next time someone close to you dies, throw away your catalog of headstones and coffins. Take whatever is simple. Spend long and hard over the message you wish to stand eternally over their heads. Take some tools, go outside and build something beautiful in memory, through your actions can your grief and sorrow be fully realised. Not because you bought the Mark V instead of the Mark IV.

* * * *
ticktockticktockticktock… Andronov was sweating, we were both aware I was in the ascendancy, the crowd had ooh'd and murmured their way through the game, as pushed my advantage further and further. I should be excited, my moment of victory came closer with every second… ticktockticktockticktock… then why was I bored?
* * * *
With five wins and four draws of the nine games, with three to play, I was well in the lead here, my opponents became less and less confident of victory as more and more of them fell. I put Rhiannon to the back of my mind, I could deal with that another time.
Jacque had turned up today, late thirties and already greying, fortunately it gave him a more distinctive air, that unfortunately wasn't mirrored by his actions. In the years that passed, I had long ago overtaken him in maturity and ability. Strangely enough I sometimes envied him for that.
We had however agreed to go out for a drink afterwards with a few friends of his, not something I was looking forward to, but there comes a point where even to those you are ambivalent to, time has a manner of slowly taking your feelings one way or another. For me I found him not so nearly annoying anymore, his actions were just that of the herd.
As much as society will tell you of the importance of your individuality, take note of the gazelle. When the pack of lions stalk, it is the individual that gets eaten.
Perhaps I have become more cynical as I grow a little bit older, but that is a natural consequence of disappointment.
We go out for a drink, one of the more expensive bars on regent street, these days I am the one buying the rounds.
“So hows Rhiannon doing? I was hoping you could make it to mine and Anne's engagement eh,” Jacques broad grin, and tendency to find the most innocently hurtful remark had never changed.
Shifting in my seat, and slowly drinking the Guinness, I paused before replying.
“Rhiannon left me, apparently I had no time for her” To some extent the bitterness was swelling up. I mean she worked as a PR, didn't she know how to make an appointment?
“Awwww geeez man, that's cold, fuck me, you alright?” Jacque looked genuinely concerned. For all his faults that I despised, he truly cared about his friends, despite very few of his friends actually caring for him at all. In many respects that denial is endearing.
“Yeah, I'm good, you know, this is a fairly important time in my career, she knew that,” I shrugged, closing off the door to any grief I had felt.
Jacque stood up, and I glanced towards the door, Ann, Jacques now fiancée had turned up, with a a melange of older and younger friends. One in particular sat next to me, introducing herself as Lisa.
Blonde, blue eyes, a picture of magazine perfection, unlike Rhiannon in so many ways, Rhiannon was never beautiful, cute, but not beautiful, here was someone who was beautiful, but not cute.
She talked about inane subjects, almost vacant of actual substance. We talked to each other for most of the night, talking was easy since neither of us had anything of import into the conversation.

With independence after youth comes a certain responsibility. Rejection and Pain comes as a natural consequence of your independence.
Here I was well on the road to my dream of being world champion. Life was taking shape, and yet in the midst of rejection, talking to the next person, whom in all likelihood would become another watery signature in a cold lonely apartment.
Stop holding yourself responsible for everything. You will, have been maybe, hurt, and theres nothing you can do about it. Embrace pain and rejection as your friend, because he makes a bitter enemy.
* * * *
ticktockticktockticktockticktockticktock…. Middlegame no matter how complex it seems, no matter how many people play it, always seems to hold onto that singular theme that once complicated, it strives to simplify itself. I wonder if life is truly a game like that.
* * * *
Paris , 2012
ticktock….. my recollections of my life came sharply into focus, I wasn't concentrating, the board was a mess. But I was still in a strong position, the win and my dreams so close.
I got back with Rhiannon a year ago. I had a large party for my thirty second birthday, she had accepted the invitation and had appeared, I noticed immediately the lack of a ring on her index finger. She had changed somewhat, that childish devilish glint was somehow sharper but more refined. We talked about the past, we ended up in bed together and picked up where we left off. Both of admitted that it was probably a mistake, but we were both lonely, and we were familiar ground, even so many years down the line. We simply hadn't bothered letting go of that familiarity.
* * * *
Ticktockticktock… staring at me, Andronov had made his move and waited patiently for me to write it down, I took my eyes from the blank wall that served as a background for my memories, and sighed. Ticktockticktock… Time counts itself away no matter what you do.
The voice message left on the computer was a twisted version of the sheet of A4, those eight years ago. Like the games of the masters before us, we had retraced our steps of the game.
Her taxi would be arriving at the airport around now, Washington the shimmering background to my victory here. She would be waiting another hour for the plane. My game still had ninety minutes left.
She had been the same, silvery laugh, playful, she could find humour in the little things, trivial things, the small beetle in the pavement dodging the footsteps, stubbing my toe on the bed post, little things, the way I rubbed my feet together before putting my arm around her at night.
I allowed myself to smile at her little quirks, she would bite her fingernails during Disney movies, to stop herself crying. For all you may think, that you should categorise your ideal person, a perfect body, a sense of humour, intelligence, sense of fun, its largely meaningless. Those little things between the intelligence and humour, the biting of fingernails, the nuzzle before finally resting the head to sleep. Each and every tiny thing makes a person important.
Keep your descriptions, Rhiannon was never the smartest, cutest, or funniest person I ever met.
But shes the only person I know who instinctively sticks her tongue a little bit when something scary happens in a movie or on tv. In many ways this is everything.
Shaking my head, I look forlornly at the board again, forcing myself to concentrate on the game.
Ticktockticktockticktocktick.... The relentless sound of the clock beat through the theatre, the only sound in the air, the occasional cough, or sniff from the audience would disturb the concentration, but always ticktockticktockticktocktick. My i deas flitted unbidden, some worthy of note, some idle speculation which would be dismissed contemptuously. The air felt stuffy, closing in, nervous energy had nowhere to be expended but the rapid beating of the heart. Ticktockticktockticktocktick... time,..ticking away, I stared back at the wall, and the image of Rhiannon in my mind. What to do? Plans formed and tantalisingly flitted away with the realisation of being too appealing for their own good, unnecessary complications, simplicity. Ticktockticktockticktocktick... again the clock beat its way into the mind, my anticipation of winning, complications, simplifications, move. My hand stretched out, unusually shaking, I frown in anger at showing a weakness, move, the hand hovered unsure, move.
A long time ago, I played this position, the board cleared, and I see the move I made sixteen years ago. One Move. Wrong Move. I smiled as my plan formed, I withdraw my hand.
As long as I avoid the mistake, I have won, it may take an hour, but the game is won, my old dreams realised.
Andronov stirs in expectation, the mistake I made in my past staring back at me.
Steady now, I reach out, pick up the piece, and confidently slide it into place before hitting the clock and standing.
Staring at the faces, they all seem so shocked, a couple whisper to each other between their clasped hands, a child asks his mother what happened. The amphitheatre is awash with murmurs of shock and amazement, as I smile. The video screen behind myself and Andronov flickers as my move is finalised on the big screen above us.
Dreams change.
As I smile happily at the same move I made as a teenager in Edinburgh , tasting life truly for the first time, mirrored on the huge video screen, I take a bow with a flourish, and cheeky grin of an eight year old. And I start to run.

The clock still ticks away as I run though the aisles to the exit, the startled whispers all around me.
Ticktocktick….
I think about silvery laughter, I think about being kissed on the nose,
I think about the latest horror movie on DVD as I dive into my car.
I still have time to see Rhiannon stick her tongue out in fright one more time.
And I make the right move.
One move.

©2004 Neil Simpson

PartyPoker First Days - Ow... I hurt

Uhoh.. I just realised something.

I suck.

My first few days playing PartyPoker have been the toughest so far playing online.. I’m only down a few dollars, I can’t help but feel it could be worse.

My confidence has definitely taken a blow, and I need to write things down to figure out where to go from here.

+ Point

Solid deep run in a $2 rebuy tourney

- Point

Busted out near bubble with poor play

+Point

Hit a good run of cards in NL5 for $9 session profit

-Point

Needed to hit a good run of cards.. otherwise bad play losing in other sessions

+Point

Doubled up through a $11 DoubleUp Tourney – Lucky QQ held up against two AK AK’s (had them both comfortably covered thou)

-Point

Not so bad.. good defensive play, couple of dodgy plays

In addition, the cash games seem tight, loosest table is 25% player to the flop…

Maybe a crisis of confidence, my biggest problem is concentration, focus and discipline… maybe its all lack of sleep.. stuffy nights have made me quite tired… so I’ll try getting more sleep and see if this makes things any better

Argh - Foiled By Them Pesky Bonuses

Well, I feel a bit stupid.

UltimateBet won’t let me withdraw until I play 2500 raked hands, and I’ve only played 1400.  I am poor at cash game play, as I revert to tournament play too easily.

As an example, NL10 6 max table, a tilty aggressive player(TAP) raises UTG for $0.80, gets a call, and I re-raise to $2 from the button with AQo.  TAP has previously shown he will go all-in with A9o, and just rebought with $10 so I feel I have a good expectation I have the strongest hand if he shoves (I wouldn’t normally btw, depends on villains MO), except the second player who called from the CO worries me. 

Call. Call.

Pot is now $6.30, and flop comes 4 4 8 rainbow, bad flop for A Q, but as long as neither player has a pair, I may well still be strongest.  TAP checks, the CO checks, so I take a free card before evaluating, in retrospect I should have continuation bet it as it’s a decent flop for a miss.  Turn is another 8 offering a backdoor flush draw to anyone with two clubs.  Not me.

UTG goes all-in for $8.31 or so.  Now let me explain before I expose this horrible play…. As far as I can see, the 8 is a blank.  With such a decent pot.  This is absolutely typical for the TAP villain, does he have a pair? A 8 is a possibility, and I am discounting pairs… why? Because the villains MO is to shove them hard preflop and gamble.  His play does not fit his method of playing pairs.  So I am down to A 8, and maybe a very tilted A 4, or a complete airball semi-bluff on the flush draw.  2 hands vs a pot he will be desperate to win to break even on his original bust .. I really figure it for a bluff.

CO folds and I call with 2 pair and A kicker, and he shows down A6 for a split pot.

My problem is.. I think it was a stupid call.. but for the reasons made above, I made it.. but calling $8.31 into a $14.61 pot, I need to be 55% certain of winning or splitting the pot.. and I confess, it was probably 50%/50%.  He gave me a lot of verbal for the call, but I also felt he shoved OOP wasn’t genius either.

I hate it when I don’t know if I made the right decision, but I have nasty suspicions I'm still a total donkey.

Moving to PartyPoker

Finally, after having my first withdrawal request declined (not enough raked hands to withdraw the $50 I got for free when I registered), I withdrew $110 from UltimateBet to deposit on PartyPoker.

I’m looking forward to playing on a more popular site, with plenty of little fishies!  I played 5 MTT’s this weekend.  I made a decent cash in a standard $3 MTT, and utterly thrashed a $2 500 dollar guarantee with huge 504 entries.  I came in 3^rd for $81, missing out on the top spot when my rivered broadway ran into the big stacks flush.

It wasn’t a bad beat, it was a mistake, plain and simple, I stacked off without holding the nuts, and provided decent enough odds for him to draw to the flush.  Annoyed at first, but I did suck out on the same guy on the river earlier in the tournament which would have ended my run at $8, so really, hats off to Karma, I cashed well, and gave the chip leader a massive run to win.  As it was 1:30am my concentration had dropped off.  I would have called, not re-raised all-in.. mistake born of an over eagerness to take the chip lead.

Nice feeling to withdraw a huge chunk, and then win most of it again.  This win is going into the “poker” cash isa, just in case something horrible happens on PartyPoker and I lose it all.  I think its unlikely, but I found that UB players played differently to Full Tilt players.  I know that shouldn’t be the case, but it really feels like it, so there may be some adjustment needed.

As always I’m going to stick to my very tight bankroll conditions, which.. works out okay if I stick to it.  Although I find it easier to do so when there is less on the account.  Sometimes I get over excited when I get too high.  Each time I hit the $200 mark on UB, I’ve blown up to $140-$150.  I’ve rebuilt to $200 twice now, and this latest win puts me at $240 as a total bankroll.  Hardly tons of money, but as I started with $50, I’m happy with this as it means I am effectively a profitable poker player, which is more than 90% of online poker players can claim.

Checking my stats on SnG’s compared to MTT’s thou, I was shocked to see I am down $18 in total.  A lot of this is to do with my aforementioned blowups, and playing HU SnG, where I KNOW I’ve lost a few more than I’ve won.  Some of it was stupidity, some of it was variance.  

Several times I was unable to close the deal with 2700 chips against 300, for them to double up twice and go on to win.  Obviously something is lacking in my technique against a shortstack.  

Obviously I need to pay more attention to SnG’s, and I think I know what the problem is.  I’m typically quite aggressive around bubble time in a MTT, and I tend to do the same in SnG’s, but I have observed that I am going out on the bubble in SnG’s far too often, so I am going to have to examine these spots too, maybe I should be playing more cautiously than I would in a MTT.  Since its easier to join another SnG, its probable that they aren’t tightening up as much as they do in a MTT.

I am determined to get my SnG profits back in the black as MTT’s and supposedly SnG’s are my speciality, so I was shocked that it was a losing game for me.  I refuse to let THAT stand. 

I will put some time into my cash game as well, but that is taking a back seat until I am consistant at both MTT’s AND SnG’s, so that I am freerolling experience in cash games (eg, win money in tourneys to play and probably lose in cash). 

WooHoo! I'm Pro Now!

Okay, I’m not pro now.

But I won my first HORSE tournament recently.

I had previously won a play money Eight Game mix tournament, but that just doesn’t count, no mooolah.

But a $1 HORSE tourney, and I absolutely rocked it, despite dropping to 4k on the final table, against 17k and 30k.  I was helped along mid tournament by a huge hand where I rivered a full house to beat a straight and a flush.. without that hand I would have been struggling a little in chips.. but hey, you need some luck to win these things, and when you have trips, 9 outs to a full house on the river isn’t appalling.. priced in all the way baby (also the straight and flush were both well hidden with the flush rivered for them).

This was a massive boost to my confidence, as I’ve always aimed to be a well rounded player.  I still have a ton to learn, especially in Stud Hi/Lo, but I know now that I can hold my own at low limits.  

Whilst I’m sure higher limit players will scoff as its only $1, the players in HORSE tourneys are usually very much like me, and tend to be FAR superior to the $1 No Limit Hold’em “donks”.

I’m pleased, because this win represents confirmation that I am improving, not just in hold’em but in all forms of limit games.

Live Casino Time Again!

Another deep run in the local casino last night, and this time I've worked out why.  Half the players consider A9 a great hand to call an allin shove...

The first two levels, the only chance to play real poker was a bit grim, being card dead for most of it.  I mean.. really card dead, every king I looked at, had a 4 to go with it, every ace, had a 5 or 7 to go with it. 
Pocket pairs? oh yes, one pair of ducks (22), which hit the muck after an early raise at the speed of light.

Interesting hand with pocket 3's, I limp in from the CO, hoping to set mine (get in cheap, hope to hit a set... profit).  Flop comes down 7 8 J, scary for 3's, but it checks around, K on the turn, checked around, I now suspect 3's are the best hand.  But in case of slow play I check,  8 on the turn pairing the board, checks around to the UTG+3 who leads out a cheap 175 bet, I more or less insta call with two 3's, and he tells me straight!, I table my cards (face down), and he shows 9 5.... not a straight.... dealer flips mine over and I take the pot.  So confused.

Luckily I had position on a weak tight player, so when it folded around to the small blind who limped (50/100 blinds), I didn't even look at my cards properly and raised another 200.  He called and the flop comes down K Q K, he checks, and I decide to check behind him, 8 on the turn, check from the SB, raised 300, and the small blind goes away.
Checked my big blind shortly after with 95o, flop comes 2 5 7, checked around 4 players, 9 on the turn, so I lead out 300, everybody folds

I pick up a real hand in AQo, and raise it up (I'm please to say I rarely limped... didn't make me popular with this limp happy table).  Everyone folds.. I can live with that, AQo is not my favourite hand post flop unless it hits

Break comes and goes, and I have average chips, which I'm happy with, you don't win the tournament in the first two levels, but now the levels are 20 minutes each, and the blinds are now 100/200 with a stack of 5300.  My M is 17-18, medium stack, enough to play a little, but I can't afford to lose a serious pot.

I work my way up to 6300, then lose it trying to steal the blinds with A6o when the BB with 8k goes all in.. down to 4300 chips, and blinds are 200/400 now... I'm in trouble!
I'm all in with KJ a while later and get called by the BB with AQo... goddammit.  Board is blank but a K on the river.. whooppeeeeeeee I'm back in action.. ish.

As I'm up to just under 10k, I have a loose aggressive player to my left, which is really stifling my action, and once again he opens for 1600, I've limped with K9s 4x the BB and all the limpers fold, and I suddenly decide... this dude was in the button, big raise... he is either on a steal, as he has been, or he has a hand.. and I could well have live cards.  I put him to the test and go all-in.  He has 10 10, BUGGER!!
I river a K again... which is harsh, but hey, who cares, I still like my play as it represented half of his stack, and he quite likely would have folded A rag under J.

I'm up to 20k, and .. well, I'll be honest, I tried to bully the table... its unbullyable.. (is that a word), I raise for 1600 with A 10o.  Now this is 9 handed, so A 10 is rarely "da nuts", but its folded around so I go for the steal.  BB goes all in for 12k.  I fold, and when asked I do tell them I had A10o, and the table is in shock I would fold.  But hey, after getting up to a very healthy stack, why join the short stacks again for a coinflip?
That raise could be a lot of things, mostly middle pairs I suspect, but I can't see it being anything I dominate with A 10, A9?? against a raise from someone who has been pretty tight and has you covered? I doubt it, thats suicidal.
I see no reason to gamble, so I fold.  He shows 88, which is fine, I'm not ready to gamble when I don't need to.
The table finally breaks up and I hit a new table with a dodgy stack of 14 with 500/1000 blinds.  I lose a couple of pots and I'm down to 7800, which is disaster zone and I finally wake up with AA!
I have to chip up now, so I raise to 4000, and the table laughs at me,
"He only raised 4k? How much has he got left? 3000 or so? omgz lolz!" etc
My best poker face is on... I now know I have played this PERFECTLY.  I get 1 caller and a shove for 10k from the short stack.. bit more than I wanted, but hey, I need a big score.  I reluctantly drop my last 3800k in, and somehow the other player finds a fold.
I disagree with this, and not just because I have AA, he has invested 4k into the pot, and my 3800 makes the pot around 22k, so he is calling 6k to win 22k, so he needs at least 27% or so to win to be in the pot.  My guess is that he had 66 or 77, and realise he was up against at least one over pair, which makes it a good laydown, but I believe he's getting the right price, even with KJ, KQ, A10 and lower (of course he's not since I have AA).  My opponent has AQ and the flop doesn't help him (queen on the river).
It was nice to see the table reverse gear and bang the table to indicate a nice hand, I think most of them realise what I did, and they fell for it like suckers.
Hard to play AA wrong, and I think AQ was insta-calling a shove anyway, cold deck for him, but the middle pair(perhaps) dude probably wouldn't have called  a shove.

Two orbits later, and I stare down at KK again in early position, I raise to 4k, and the AQ guy calls with his last 2300 chips (fair enough).. but everyone else folds.  He tables A9o... and hits the A on the flop.  Annoying, but if he had more chips, it would  have been more painful.
The break comes and I'm UTG+1 a few orbits later with Q4o.  Everyone is already shuffling to run off for cigarettes and toilet.. so I feel this is a great opportunity to steal the considerable blinds of 2100, so I raise 4000, and goddammit, the guy whose AQ I bashed goes all in for 6600(he managed to steal some blinds too!).  Pot odds demand my call, 2600 to win 10600, I actually have to call if I knew he had 44, he doesn't, he has 55, and they hold up, and I'm down to 14k again.. GOD DAMMIT!! Was it a stupid move? yes... kinda.. but I like the imagination to try and take the pot when everyone is ready to leave for the break, and most of the time I'm going to have at least 36%.  As it happens my raise and the shove moves someone off A6o who says he was going to call... whatever dude.. thats just dumb to call a raise with a raggy crappy ace against an early position raise who has just folded all and only shown AA and KK!! Idiotic comes to mind.

I'm down to 14k after the break and the blinds are now 1k/2k, and when my BB comes around I have AJo, as it folds around to the button, who makes it 5k to go... the big stack in the SB calls, and my chips go in, hoping to squeeze play the two out, but I'd take a call as I probably have the best hand,  the button folds, the SB decides he's priced in with 67s.  I kinda get it, he has 60k chips and its 9k more to win 24k with two probably live cards.  I would like to think I can make this call too.
Flop comes 6 5 7 and I'm drawing next to dead, 4 on the turn with outs to a split pot, but my A on the river is all she wrote against the two pair.
I went out with the superior hand, and I did the right thing, my exit is graceful... but its hard not to mourn the fact I'd have been on 33k after that hand and the opportunity to make a big run in the tournament.

A few beers, an episode of lost, and I go home happy.

Getting Ready to "Move House"

Finally decided to opt for PartyPoker as my UB replacement. 

Once I get my cash isa set up for my poker bankroll, I'll be withdrawing all but $20 or so from UB.  Going to leave a little in there to play in the very soft $1,Guaranteed $500 tournaments when I have time to play them.. and withdraw winnings.  Don't mind too much if I lose them.

Now looking at the best offers available to me in terms of rakeback and bonuses on PartyPoker, and with the kids away for a few days, I've got a chance to play one or two live tournaments at the local bricks and mortar casino which have done well for me so far (3 decent cashes from 7 played).

It would be nice to chalk up a nice casino win to bolster the Poker Bank Account so I have ready funds available to play when I like instead of spending it and feeling sad I can't afford to play mid-month between pay days.

I've really been focusing on my errors the last 2 trips to the casino, and hopefully I can plug the leaks, but also I've been beating myself up over a few hands which, once studied aren't that bad, and in a turbo format (i.e. one night tournament) format, you've got to get the money in when you're good, it just sucks that twice in a row someone has flopped a straight against my flopped two pair.  I have outs....

Last but not least, I always miss the kids when they are away, but looking forward to spending quality time with the missus too (is there any way to write this without it sounding sordid?).




We'll catch up on Lost if nothing else!

Creating A Dedicated Account

I haven’t updated this in a while, but I have a tournament hand by hand I’d like to write about and put into perspective.

I’ve taken the decision to open a cash isa that is purely to hold poker bankroll, that way I can limit how much is on any site at any given time, as I gear up to cash out of Ultimatebet (because they are a naughty company, and I don’t trust them not to go bust and run away with my winnings).

The only downside is that I feel like I’m playing good solid poker, with some natural mistakes, but I am recognising these mistakes which is the main thing.  But I am leaking at the moment, some “tournament shoves” in a cash game type errors.

I had to quit playing last night in a 0.01/0.02 micro last night after raising to 0.08 with 10 10, with one caller from the big blind, flop comes 2 2 4 which I’m happy with so after he checks, I raise 0.15c.  Villain flat calls me. 

Alrighty I think, JJ+ or better should be reraising preflop, no reason not to think I have the best hand, and if they play a deuce and hit trips against an overpair, then in the long run I’m making money out of them calling raises with a deuce.  7 comes on the river, very happy to see that card especially after another check, and I raise 0.33c.  

Villain flat calls me again… smells a bit more like trouble, but I suspect something fruity like A 3 or the like, or if I’m lucky pocket 8’s or 6’s.  9 comes on the river. 

Villain goes all-in.  My read is that he’s missed his draw and got tilty he put so much money in the pot.  So I call.

He hit the set on the river.  My read .. was somewhat idiotic.  Looking back, I realise that the river shove is going to be the nuts or thereabout over half the time, but damn I struggle to fold an overpair to an unco-ordinated, flushless, straightless board…. I’m still not 100% it’s a bad line to call that raise since it could also be something crazy like 97s who hits 2 pair, which I beat.

I am confused, but it cost me a 2 BI’s (I had doubled up previously)…. But I should of folded. 

Hopefully I can get myself back on track and earn some pennies again before I withdraw, but I need to rectify my thinking, as I suspect part of me is chasing lost money instead of focusing on just playing my A game.

Variance Catches Me Up

What an awful weekend.

At least poker wise.  After another MTT win pushed me close to the $200 bankroll mark on UB, I was feeling a bit.. too good about things.

So, I decided to play a few $5 tournaments, and see if I can continue my run.

Bad idea.  Busted out with KK allin preflop, AA allin preflop, and full house vs better full house on the flop.  I’ve told myself that, I can’t get any better busting out with such strong holdings… but that niggle that.. this bad run could only happen once I’ve stepped up in limits.

Tilted off $4 playing PLO… I’m alright with that, I played pretty bad, but I am just trying to learn this game, and it seemed like a tough table, so table selection was my biggest mistake I think.

“All in” all, I was down a whopping $40 by Saturday night.  This makes me sad, but I dragged back $4 on Sunday night playing deep stack NLHE 0.02/0.04.  Crazy table, 70% to the flop, and sick all-in’s, combined with getting QQ twice, and a solid call with 88 vs 77 on a 2 4 6 flop.

On the other hand, I am sick of UB now.  The competition is soft, but since this company has historically been known to deny “superuser” accounts even once they were proven, and numerous other security leaks.. another one coming to light over the weekend.. I’m going to be withdrawing the majority of my mediocre bankroll and depositing elsewhere, and this time I will apply for some rakeback!

Another reason is that the only games that seem to fill up tourney wise is 1 and 2 dollar $500GTD tournaments… Its hard to find good games.

Better half now has the accounts on Pokerstars and my old Full Tilt account, so that puts the two largest sites out of my mind, I’m going to have to think about where to put my bankroll.

Time to do some research!

The Contrarian Freeroll Strategy

reeI'm writing this, because it still confounds me. I don't play a lot of freerolls anymore, the investment of several hours for the sake of pennies doesn't interest me anymore, and the standard of play is so bad, that I feel that it's a bad influence on play in profitable MTT's.

Don't get me wrong, Freerolls can be a lot of fun, but I read all the articles, and played them out, and I found that the advice given… simply does not work.. I assumed it was because I played bad. But I recently conducted a couple of experiments, and frankly the results did NOT surprise me.

The typical freeroll advice is to play tight tight tight, wait for premiums and push them aggressively. However, I feel the standard of play in freerolls was such that this is counter productive in the long run.
Raises of any amount get called so flippantly in these tournaments, that a 6xBB bet is called by four or five people. There is no poker hand which looks attractive with this many other players in the pot. People shout and scream about Aces getting busted constantly.. "I was 82% favourite!" etc etc.... not against 6 people buddy.
Against 5 or 6 players, any post flop raise will be called by those on a draw, regardless of pot odds, and those who flopped something bigger than aces already.

Of course theres little you can do about that, but after a couple of experiments I've come up with a new strategy that is working superbly when I do have to freeroll. I call it "Contrarian" strategy.

The first 20 minutes of a freeroll are key, people are looking to double up early, and to the observant player, you can spot those who are trying to do so with less than premium hands and position, and bluffing with air. These are your 'marks' to get into pots with, and there is always plenty to choose from. The kind of player you can trap into stacking off with second pair.
You are still playing close to premium hands, but I wouldn't turn down limping with weak hands like K10o, J9s.

Your first double up or bust is key, you haven't invested much time if you bust out. Your double up is just a step thou, its play money. Your next move is to try and call in position with ANY TWO HALF PLAYABLE CARDS. All suited connectors, even separated ones like 86s etc (which btw, happens to be a better hand than A8o). Avoid 92s etc still, but you are still going to try and get into lots of pots, with position being a highly key indicator.

The skill now involves knowing when and where to muck, a lot of the other players are not paying attention, but you must not get excited about hitting top pair with 78s on a 2 4 8 flop without a flush draw to go with it. Muck it if you meet any major resistance, calling is too weak and you will lose a lot of your "play" money by weak calling raises with it, and even more by re-raising, unless you are 99% sure you are winning. Chances are the next card will be a 10 J Q K A, and the 8 does not stand up to any further aggression.

With careful observation about player ranges, and aggression, there will be lots of "lucky" players like yourself pretty much. But as long as you are a better player, they are your next footup. You are looking to hit the flush or hidden straight or set, and don't be scared about representing it… a lot of these lucky players are not paying attention to even this. Straights are better in regards that they are harder for the bad players to see and they will stack off with two pair, or even one pair. When you hit that big hand, get as much money in the pot as possible, occasionally everyone will fold, but you will get called enough to make it a +ev play. Slowplaying is usually more dangerous than getting the money in early.

The entire point of this strategy is to avoid confrontation on big hands, and rather, sneak in with the smaller hands that can hit big flops. I am NOT interested in small pots, I'll take them when they come, I'm not even concerned with reasonable size pots.. I'm looking for the situations where the bad player will stack off against your nuts.

Once you hit Top 100 players in the tournament, or at roughly 3 or 4x average stack, slow down, the field will be getting smaller, with the good players prevailing with medium stacks after the luckbox donkeys have finally stacked off…. The point of my new strategy is to be in prime position to take those stacks in the first place. This is the key stage to the strategy… knowing when to shift gears back down. You are now in a normal tournament with a strong chipstack, this is where you wanted to be. Getting to this situation with just premiums is not as reliable bizarrely enough in this type of tournament.

The point being is that using this strategy, so far, the general pattern tends to be;

Double Up or Bust Out Stage (Luckbox Strategy!)
Up To 2600 chips or so
Limp In For Big Hands
2600 up to about 20,000
Standard Tournament Tight Play
20,000+

Any good tournament player will probably be reviled by this strategy, and a good portion of myself hates the idea of being a "luckbox" early on, and "any two cards" aggression afterwards, but so far I make deep runs to freerolls more often on this strategy than with my previous tight tight tight play.

If it isn't a freeroll, you will get torn apart doing this, it is a BAD MTT strategy normally……but Freerolls are very contrary. When it costs people nothing when they bust out, you have to take a different perspective, and this strat really allows you to enjoy the game more, than trying to grind out premiums to win a few cents.

My only addition to this is again contrary. Big stacks still have a few luckbox's, but luck will run out, and I would heartily recommend targeting any other big stacks on your table, getting away from danger, but stacking them off when they get a bit too frisky and throw their weight around. Some people can't resist putting another player all-in. Again, in a normal tournament you would be avoiding the big stack.. but freerolls are just not real MTT's… they play very very differently, which require a very very different strategy.

So if you wonder why your KK got busted.. again. That was me with my 86s. Sorry, but you should have raised more.

Happy Birthday. I'm 30. Hurray..............

Well, Its My Birthday.

I'm 30.

No Poker in this blog.

I kinda enjoyed being a twenty something, and the anxiety attacks over my, basic human phobia of death have only abated a little bit, attacking me with apathy, anger, and feelings of despair.

Needless to say, I'm not sure how I feel about this new decade of age I've entered.

Without being overly emo about this….. I still feel I haven't grown up yet, I would still happily spend my days playing games, running, jumping, climbing trees given half the chance, and the landmark of 30, is screaming at me to grow up.

Not sure I can do that. I like to think I'm a good father, but I often feel I'm at my best, when that childish whimsy and good nature comes through. Grown Up Me seems awfully dull.

Theres an awful lot that I would like to change, yet I seem to lack the determination to see things through. Perhaps being 30 will spur me to make those changes, quit smoking, eat a more balanced diet, more exercise. One thing I am certain of, is that my fear of death is likely to get worse until I can conquer some of these wishes.
I suspect that being 30, that feeling of immortality will go, and what I am left with, at the bottom of that pit, is an ugly beast, which lurked all my life.

However, I utterly love my wife-to-be, adore my children, and wouldn't change them for the world, that part of my life is complete and fulfilling, although I daresay I can make more of it.
My work life, is crushing me a little, lettings agent get little respect at the best of times, and I worry that my feelings of disdain will spill out onto the soulless wraiths that grab and paw at every penny, to the detriment of others happiness.
That was never my goal when I started out in this world, and its difficult to have a positive influence on the existence of others where I am now, but I suspect that the only way I would be happy confined to a place of employment would be to find something that gives something positive to the world.
After 4 years of this, spirit crushing job, I need to move on.

What else…… I could do with smiling more. This may sound odd, but I used to find so many things amusing, people, situations, myself(usually more than others I suspect).. where did the fun go?

I look around me and everything outside of my home and family is tinged with grey, to err on the side of poetic. I'd be a better human being, if I can see the brightness again, but I'm not sure how to open my eyes fully again (stop me if I'm getting too emo again, oh.. you can't… tough).

I think all in all, I'm optimistic. The first step in improving your "game", is to recognise your mistakes, and to be introspective about your faults. Well I can manage that, and I can see paths ahead that rebuild the equilibrium between work and family life, and learning how to smile again.

All in all, whilst this makes quite depressing reading, this is a positive post. I'm not sure I fear 30 as much as I thought now that I write it down, for all the happiness in my life, the aforementioned tinge of grey is conquerable, and I have faith in my mental resilience to see through positive changes.

To the beast that is my fear of death.


I'm All In.


Your Move.

(couldn't resist one poker reference, sorry!)

Stepping off the Gas

I've had a cold all week, and one area of my poker playing that I'm pleased with, is my discipline in not playing when mentally deficient in any way, and boy did this cold knock my brain sideways. Hence, I've played very little all week.

Especially after being on a bit of a heater recently, I'm keen to ensure I play at the top of my game. I played in a couple of sit n go's over the weekend, 20 cents, and a 10 cent step tournament and won them both continuing my winning streak, but I was unhappy with my play, in that the opposition were so weak, that I didn't feel like winning was any achievement, especially in the step tournament to the WSOP (0.10+2 buyin).  This isn't a brag, simply they folded to any raise, but called with a strong hand only.. makes things.. a little easy in terms of "reads".

I confirmed this by playing in the step 2 the following day and had a spectacular blowup, 4900 chip leader against 2100 2nd place, with only 6 players left. Badly timed aggression, stupid bluffs, and I busted out in 6th. Very very stupid and unnecessary when all I needed to do was get to 2nd to go up a step, and 3rd to stay at the same level.

Me and the missus had some drinks on Saturday and played some Pot Limit Omaha, which she roundly trounced me at after hitting an Ace high flush against my 8 high flush after running hearts post-flop. Omaha. Game of drawing to the nuts... not just any old flush.. my bad.

She went on to beat me at no limit hold'em, which I always feel I have the edge in, which didn't impress me. Fortunately the wine started to go to her head and I won 2 in a row to call the night a draw. We get far too competitive about these things, that we have to keep count.

(I'm up 14 to 6 on games so far.. I might even draw a graph).

I'm going to start studying up on Badugi, which looks like an interesting variation, and I like to keep myself well rounded. My weakest games are Seven Card Stud (High or Low), and 5 Card Draw, so I have a lot to really study up on. I like the idea of becoming a decent 8 game mix player, but this is far in the future with a lot of practice involved.

I'm a firm believer that mastering all the poker variations complement each other, and learning how to play each kind of game offers valuable skills in all other variations.

I'm still feeling a bit washed up, especially with my 30th birthday looming.... but thats for another day.

My Relationship with Ultimatebet

I really hate UltimateBet.  The scandal that broke out over the superuser account disgusted me, and I vowed never to touch them.

But then they gave me a free $50 bankroll! Yay!

I'm such a whore.

Played a couple more sit 'n' go.  Busted out on the bubble in the $1, made some moves to steal some pots, as I often do at bubble time, and ran into a big hand.  I feel fine with that, I make more money in the long run with the pot stealing plan.

$2 sitngo was hilarious fun, the final 3 players other than myself were total nits, aiming to make some money, and I had a big stack.  At one point I had won 18 out of the last 20 pots, with pure aggression... thats just SILLY... surely they must figure out I don't always have a hand in that situation.  But never mind.  I knocked them out one by one, and finally with 10800 chips vs 1200 chips, he slowplayed two pair and hit my flush.  Game Over, and I was really quite chuffed with how well I had played that tournament, controlling the table, being table leader for almost the entire game, making one exceptional call to double up through the only other big stack with second pair.  (I'm going with exceptional call, rather than donkey call if you please).

Sharkscope makes me look fierce at the moment my stats at the moment, Sit n Go and MTT.

Av. Profit      Av. Stake      Av. ROI      Total Profit Ability /100
$2                  $1                 87%            $166          72   


I'm certainly very pleased with this result and I hope I can maintain it.  But I've got a nasty cold at the moment, so I'm not playing.
Don't play when drunk or otherwise mentally befuddled kids.

Online Poker: Tired old dog that is 'rigged'

Is online poker rigged? Google it and the forum threads will go on forever about it.

After a few months playing cash games, I must confess I found some of the arguments compelling...
Action flops to induce more rake.
'Bad luck' runs when bankroll is short to induce more deposits.
'Beginners luck' runs to hook new players to the site.
Etc Etc and so on.

As always with a problem, be it religion, politics, chess, life and poker (listed in order of importance obviously), my head will torture me throughout the day until I work through the issue logically until I obtain a conclusion... be it right or wrong, the important bit is not the answer, but that the conclusion is entirely (or at least mostly) a product of my own reasoning, rather than a dronelike regurgitation of peer or preferential opinion.
This is not the friend winning process it appears to be.

Anyway, the point I want to make, is that I don't know if i'm right, but i'd like to express the process I took to reach the opinion.
The first thought process occurs along the lines of whether the proposed theory of rigged poker fits in with my own experience.
First Thought: omgz yez cos this one time i flopped a straight n lossed 8 dollas cos i went all in n got called, but the guy only had like second pair, but then hit a backdoor by the river.... Omg so sick!
Second thought (after taking the first thought process out the back and disembowelling it with a blunt spoon). How did this situation occur?
Well to be honest, i'd got into the habit of making continuation bets, and from my regular range (ducks arse range) middle cards were most certainly not in my usual range.
The logical play in this situation for my opponent is to raise, since calling with second pair is too weak once you've established that it is merely a continuation bet.
With a flopped straight, i can either smooth call or re-raise back. I prefer the re-raise as very few people throw away a re-raise without calling a repop at low limits. Very easy to go all in with this situation. Especially against weaker players.

Is this situation valid? Actually no, it shouldn't be, because i am crediting the low limit player with higher than stage 1 thinking. But it does serve as a scenario as to why a large pot occurs on a marginal hand.
This. Happens. A. Lot. Online. Large pots happening, and all-in a regular occurance.
This might seem to be off track, but i am getting to my point.
You don't normally see this happen as often, so it stands to reason you see runner runner wins against the odds more often.
The poker player natural state of ill-conceived superiority does not meld well with this regularity of occurance. The brain does not allow it.
I know i do it. Only recently i was knocked out of a mtt on the final table when my flopped flush turned into a full house for my villain by the river. I remember it vividly, yet i struggle to remember the exact details when earlier in the same tournament, i was all in for my tournament life and hit runner runner flushes against stronger hands. Twice.
My mind doesn't retain the information for getting lucky but it remembers OTHER PEOPLE getting lucky with unnerving accuracy.

So in short, I can't help but feel that a combination of bad players, and lots and lots of hands, combined with a psychological inability to compare bad situations all mount up to the feeling that the world is out to get you.

In shorter.  You suck.

With 'bad luck' runs as your bankroll is small to force another deposit... but I have to say, I almost instantly dismiss this on the basis that when you are worried about your bankroll, you make bad decisions.  Simples.

Watching High Stakes Poker Season 2 at the moment, and watching Daniel Negreanu flop the nuts 3 times, and have somebody hit quads against him by the river 3 times? Was it rigged, well obviously not.  If that happened online, there would be an INQUIRY!

So this is where my mind is at... it easier to blame the system than your own bad play, and most players are psychologically incapable of admitting this.

Superuser accounts on the other hand, well, the fuss at UltimateBet was pretty damning.  I suspect a superuser account is less of a risk at micro 0.02/0.04 limits.

Busting Out In Style

So I had a nap, a shower, was raring to go on Friday.

And played the worst poker for quite some time.

We started the game with a couple of guys, whom we will call "accountant chap" and "bowling ball chap", sitting next to each other, obviously friends having a little speech about how the top 2 league players are on this table. Can't say that bothered me, but please see previous posts on arrogance. Do not warn your opponents! F.F.S.

I'm determined to be tight, 10 handed, and after 3 hands, it limps in and I'm holding KJo. Well, thats got to be worth the small blind at least at 25/50 level.

Flop comes down K Q J rainbow and I guess I looked surprised, because "bowling ball chap" comments, "That was a good flop for you" to me. W*nker, seeing as he wasn't in the hand, I felt that was pretty out of order to say that.

I guess I tilted. Pot is 300, so I led out with 300, and got 3 callers. That can't be good for 2 pair on a board like that, but I can guess that at least one of them has a pair. The turn is a 3, which continues the rainbow theme and certainly shouldn't help anybody. I guess I may well be good, but I'd rather represent a straight, instead of a two pair. So I throw 600 in, 1 call, and 2 folds.

Thats better! I wonder what this guy has? Surely not flopping a straight with AK, he would have raised on the big blind with that. 9 10 on the big blind and that flop also strikes me as far too fortunate.

River is a 6, again not helping anybody, so my stupid head thinks I'm good, I lead out again with 1200. I'm sure those reading this, can probably see how badly this is getting played, out of position on a dangerous board. BB min raises to 2400.

Uhoh. And I pay him off. 9 10 off suit it was in the big blind. Lovely. KJ no good, and one of the turn folders mentions he had the same hand.

I honestly felt like an idiot, especially when the same thing happened to me last time. Not learning from my mistakes is me.

With 500 chips, I continue my theme of crap play. 3xBB raise with A 8s, flop comes down 5 3 Q, and the big blind bets, I fold (He shows 5 3o.. F.F.S), and I finally put my last 350 in with A9s.

Called by the CO with pocket nines.

Shortest tournament ever. I feel pretty disappointed, as I promised myself I would throw 2 pair in situations like this, this early in the tournament. Sometimes thou, my clear thinking when playing online just fails live occasionally. I know I would have gotten away from it online after 2 smooth calls. I blame bowling ball guy. Talking about a tell he picked up when he's NOT in the hand. Bad bad manners.

But I played bad, I got knocked out. Can't really complain.

*mope*

We're having a freezeout tonight!

Better half is having a girlie night with friends on a Twilight marathon with wine.

Sounds like a good time to escape to the casino for tonights £20+2 buyin that I've had so much success with.  Its a bit of a weird tournament, in that I hate the fact that it is 10 handed tables, which basically means your strategy is; NIT NIT NIT, dropping anything weaker than AQo, 88+ and playing the hands aggressively, coupled with any opportunities based on observation of other players.

Please god let this not be a "everyone limp into the pot" table again, that was excruciating last time, but lucrative until I overvalued top 2 pair against somebodies idiot end of the straight, stupid me making 54o a +EV play.  Everytime I raised, the whole table muttered to themselves!
Made me wonder whether they were playing a different variation of poker to me.

I say nit (ultra-tight) but frankly I'll have to see how the table dynamics go.  I also made a new promise to myself, "Do not go bust on a pair", if I have AKo on a K 8 2 rainbow board, don't call the all-in, let it go and wait for a better spot if they bluff that way.  I have a tendancy sometimes to feel internally indignant that someone could outflop AK in that situation.

Finishing work early to prepare (ie. shower), thank god.  Struggling to cope with the bizarre antics of landlords and tenants.
Tenant today has given away all the furniture to her brother.  For no real reason.  Hilarity ensues.

Landlord has decided that maybe she shouldn't try to keep the whole security bond for a scratch on a table, when she "forgot" to renew the very very important gas safety certificate since the tenant moved in, and the tenant turns out to be a litigation solicitor in a bad mood.  Hilarity ensues.

WHEN I cash tonight, I think a treat is in order for the weekend.

Alternatively my next post will be some sort of spitting incomprehensible rant about somebody calling KK with A4 and winning.

Arrogance at the Table

Now, I've not played a ton of live poker, a few tournaments barely counts as experience.  Yet, it occurs to me, that those whom have plenty of experience lack one important skill.
Self Control.
You have to open your mouth, and warn the fish that they play bad.  This isn't random either, I've been on the receiving end of a scathing remark, and weighing up the facts.  Yes. I should not have called a raise with just a gutshot and one over card.  You are indeed correct.
So I improve my game.
Not a smart move on behalf of the gobby wannabe-pro.

In this game, more than ever, you want to encourage bad play by others.  Even if it works out badly for you in the short run, the common acceptance is that in the long run, other peoples bad play will work for you.

So, when I sit there, and hit my gutshot straight, which I should never have called your 1/3rd pot raise chasing (I know it was bad).  Do not berate me.  Congratulate me on the hand confident knowing your chips are on loan.

Do not however, proceed to lambast such play.  Not only is it hard to hear you whilst I'm stacking your chips, but congratulate me on hitting such an unlikely big hand.

However, such is the psyche of the poker player so often, that in their head, they are unbeatable.  They play perfect poker, and only the bad luck of the cards is the reason they lose.

So take these three steps on a suck-out;

1) Smile - Be unbothered by the beat, you are not so superior to the other players, that they haven't been watching and know fine well what a bad play the other person made.  Your grace under these conditions is fearsome.
2) Congratulate the Winner on Such a FINE HAND - Happy Players Chasing Straights and Flushes - Are Profitable (unless you play online in which case, naturally they hit 33% odds 75% of the time).
3) Start Instructing Your Chips to March Forth and Recruit Others - Preferably before the blinds increase

An Introduction

I never cared for diaries. I always felt that I should never be looking backwards, and always look ahead.

Can't really remember any other reasons. If I kept a diary I would have remembered.

I've been playing poker for a year, getting hooked on it playing Zyngas free poker on Facebook and realising I "got it" straight away. I was winning easily without having any basic idea how to play, simply playing too many hands was my major fault, and shoving all my chips in with strong hands that were at least 2 removed from the nuts.

Now its a year later, I've racked up a few (6) live tournaments at the local casino and cashed in two of them, and I play extremely regularly online (Full Tilt & Ultimate Bet(I'll explain why in a future blog) for small profits.

So this blog is mostly for my own musings, but welcome anybody wanting to throw in their five cents (or raise to fifteen cents.. ba dum tish).

For all those players whom a nights profit of $2.40 is cause for a fist pump, and a final table in a $1 MTT is cause for a whooping celebration and victory lap around the house.

For all those players who get their money in good with pocket tens on a J 10 J rainbow board and lose to J 10.

For all those.. players, not pros, but for the love of the game.