When I moved to Vegas in 2005, my hope was to make a living playing live cash games. Online poker seemed more like a novelty than a way of making money, and all I knew about live tournaments came from ESPN broadcasts. Being a professional poker player seemed so simple back then - head to the casino, put in your hours at the tables, and go home. No decisions about what form of poker to focus on, no worries about outside forces telling me where I'm allowed to play, and nothing that could come close to the extreme highs and lows that I've experienced over the past six years. Live cash was a great way to ease myself into being a poker pro, but the ability to play online and dabble in big live tournaments has contributed majorly to the fact that I'm still playing poker today. Grinding live ring games was a way to pay the bills, but I never looked back after realizing that I had different and better options to play poker for a living. Following Black Friday, those options no longer exist for me, and the aftermath has been surprising.
The WSOP came and went with little to write about, and after a two week period to collect my thoughts and cope with the uncertainty of my future, I got myself together and began my new/old career as a live cash pro. With 35 good hours of 5/10 at the Bellagio under my belt from the week leading up to the WSOP, I figured I'd head back to those games and see what kind of results I could put up over a larger sample size. The limitations of live poker, specifically the whole 35-40 hands per hour thing lowered my expectations significantly, but I figured that something like $75/hour might be attainable for a good player. In August, I felt like I ran well and ended up with a $148 hourly rate. That number fell to $115 in September, but jumped all the way to $170 in October. This month has been more of the same. While four months of live poker is the equivalent of a few busy days of online cash, I'm feeling a renewed sense of optimism for my second go-around as a live cash pro.
Initially, I planned on bouncing around the handful of casinos that ran 5/10 games, but haven't played anywhere other than the Bellagio yet. I have a nice feeling of comfort in the games I play, and running good keeps me wanting to stay on the routine I'm in. Unlike back in '05, I'm making it a point to maximize my hours during the peak times when the games are juiciest. Typically, I'll play a few 4-5 hour sessions during the week, and then put in 8-12 hour sessions on Friday and Saturday. Sunday, of course, is reserved for football, and I can't say that I miss the online Sunday grind at all now that I'm free to lay on the couch all day and be disappointed by the Eagles. Somehow, my poker career has found a nice balance following what was a worst case scenario back in April, and things look to be stable and boring, which is actually kind of nice after all the uncertainty that surrounded the poker world this summer.
Unless online poker is brought back to the U.S., things look to be pretty uneventful for me going forward. For once, I'll actually have a reason to abandon this blog for months at a time, instead of just being grumpy about poker and not wanting to write about it. Everything from my grinding schedule to my knowledge of the Bellagio 5/10 regs feels comfortable and easy to manage, and that will probably keep me playing in the same games at the same times for the indefinite future. I don't even care how repetitive and uninteresting that seems, because monotony is far better than uncertainty, especially when that monotony involves making $143/hour. Granted, I'm 99% sure that I'm running well above expectation and can't maintain that winrate, but I don't think it's unrealistic to assume a $100 hourly is attainable in the long run by grinding hard on weekends and avoiding the common forms of live tilt (playing too many hands out of boredom especially).
Black Friday was a disaster, and there isn't a single part of my brain that looks back and sees it as a good thing. Hell, I still have $24k stuck on Full Tilt. However, I can't say that the forced changes to my career were all bad. The beginning of 2011 was going well, but that came on the heels of a two year breakeven stretch, which included a $200k downswing. Poker had become very stressful at times, and I had lost my passion for the game entirely. Playing cards went from being fun to feeling a job, and often times seeming like a mind-numbing grind. Live cash isn't exactly fun, but it comes without the stresses of big downswings and confidence issues. The games I play in are easy, and there's something to be said about making decent money without much stress. Poker is simple again, although that's only the case when I keep myself from thinking about what once was and what could be in the future. Playing tournaments and online poker don't quite seem like a thing of the past yet, but I can't say that I miss them either. I'm content right now, and after everything that transpired over the last three years, that's more than good enough.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Twitter, WSOP Schedule
If anyone cares to follow, I'll be tweeting my chip counts (@fineman83) at every break this summer to keep my backer updated. Here's my full schedule of events, split almost evenly between the WSOP and Venetian Deepstack Extravaganza (all NLHE):
5/31: Venetian $1k
6/2: Venetian $1.5k
6/4: WSOP $1k
6/6: WSOP $1.5k 6-max
6/7: WSOP $1.5k Triple Chance
6/8: WSOP $1.5k Shootout
6/9: Venetian $1.5k
6/10: Venetian $2.5k
6/11: WSOP $1.5k
6/12: WSOP $1k
6/13: Venetian $1.5k
6/14: Venetian $1k
6/15: WSOP $2.5k 6-max
6/17: Venetian $2k
6/18: WSOP $1.5k
6/19: WSOP $1k
6/20: Venetian $1.5k
6/21: WSOP $2.5k
6/22: WSOP $1.5k
6/23: Venetian $1k
6/24: Venetian $1.5k
6/25: WSOP $1.5k
6/26: WSOP $1k
6/27: Venetian $2.5k
6/28: WSOP $1.5k
6/29: Venetian $1.5k
7/2: Venetian $1k
7/3: WSOP $1k
7/4: Venetian $1k
7/5: WSOP $1.5k
7/7: Venetian $1.5k
7/?: WSOP $10k (main event)
I played a $350 at the Venetian on my own dime a few days ago to get some recent live MTT experience and ended up second in chips after the first day out of 1,200 runners. Unfortunately, I couldn't get anything going on the second day and fizzled out in 26th for $2k. Not the result I was hoping for after crushing early, but it was still nice to get deep in the first live tourney I had played since last year's WSOP main event.
5/31: Venetian $1k
6/2: Venetian $1.5k
6/4: WSOP $1k
6/6: WSOP $1.5k 6-max
6/7: WSOP $1.5k Triple Chance
6/8: WSOP $1.5k Shootout
6/9: Venetian $1.5k
6/10: Venetian $2.5k
6/11: WSOP $1.5k
6/12: WSOP $1k
6/13: Venetian $1.5k
6/14: Venetian $1k
6/15: WSOP $2.5k 6-max
6/17: Venetian $2k
6/18: WSOP $1.5k
6/19: WSOP $1k
6/20: Venetian $1.5k
6/21: WSOP $2.5k
6/22: WSOP $1.5k
6/23: Venetian $1k
6/24: Venetian $1.5k
6/25: WSOP $1.5k
6/26: WSOP $1k
6/27: Venetian $2.5k
6/28: WSOP $1.5k
6/29: Venetian $1.5k
7/2: Venetian $1k
7/3: WSOP $1k
7/4: Venetian $1k
7/5: WSOP $1.5k
7/7: Venetian $1.5k
7/?: WSOP $10k (main event)
I played a $350 at the Venetian on my own dime a few days ago to get some recent live MTT experience and ended up second in chips after the first day out of 1,200 runners. Unfortunately, I couldn't get anything going on the second day and fizzled out in 26th for $2k. Not the result I was hoping for after crushing early, but it was still nice to get deep in the first live tourney I had played since last year's WSOP main event.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Six Years in Vegas
June 4th will mark the six year anniversary of when I first played poker as a professional. I didn't really have a clue what I was doing back then, but was lucky enough to figure things out along the way. Even though the poker climate seems pretty bleak right now given the circumstances, it's hard not to be incredibly happy with how things have gone to this point.
For no apparent reason, I decided to make use of my overly detailed poker spreadsheet and throw together some charts. This is what happens when I take a few days off before the WSOP to recharge my batteries.
Here's my total profit by month:
Yay, $1.2 million profit! Boo, ongoing thirty month breakeven stretch. Poker got a lot harder in December, 2008, in my opinion.
A breakdown of where my profits came from:
Tournaments are fun. I'm going to miss being able to play them more than two months out of the year.
Here's a very similar graph to the one above. This is the breakdown of how I spent my 7,558 hours at the tables:
Damn you, ever-growing light blue triangle! I can only hope that online poker makes a comeback before it becomes a light blue half-circle.
For no apparent reason, I decided to make use of my overly detailed poker spreadsheet and throw together some charts. This is what happens when I take a few days off before the WSOP to recharge my batteries.
Here's my total profit by month:
Yay, $1.2 million profit! Boo, ongoing thirty month breakeven stretch. Poker got a lot harder in December, 2008, in my opinion.
A breakdown of where my profits came from:
Tournaments are fun. I'm going to miss being able to play them more than two months out of the year.
Here's a very similar graph to the one above. This is the breakdown of how I spent my 7,558 hours at the tables:
Damn you, ever-growing light blue triangle! I can only hope that online poker makes a comeback before it becomes a light blue half-circle.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Back Up Plan
I have no recollection of this movie existing, so let's go with this instead:
Much better. The back up plan to my back up plan is pretty much where I'm at right now as a poker player. Leaving the country to play online isn't an option for me, and I have no interest in breaking any rules to regain access to Stars/Tilt/European sites. I'm also wary of opening accounts on the smaller sites still open to U.S. players, because I'd have to deposit a good chunk of money to play worthwhile stakes, and I'm not interested taking the risk of having those funds freeze or disappear in the near future. That leaves live poker as my only realistic option for full time pokering going forward.
After Black Friday, the uncertainty of what would happen with my online funds left me short on liquid cash and needing to make money. My only option was to return to live cash after a five year layoff, and I wouldn't be able to play above 2/5 until Stars and/or Tilt released my money. Even if I wanted to try and find a backing deal for live tournaments, the variance and expenses associated with playing live MTTs full time would have clashed with my current situation. So before I could fully digest what had happened to the status quo I had taken for granted, I was back in the casinos looking to get my feet wet at the tables.
My first two sessions were at Red Rock, a locals casino a mile down the street from my house. I played a few hours at 1/2 just to get a feel for things, and was quickly reminded that some of the worst poker players on the planet can be found at low stakes live cash. The competition at 2/5 wasn't much tougher, although there appeared to be far more grumpy old regulars limp/folding their way through retirement. Playing at Red Rock is not particularly enjoyable. Feeling more than ready to take on the 2/5 games on the strip, I headed to the Wynn to return to the tables I played at every day five years ago. Beating the games was never a concern of mine - I had a $30 hourly rate over 700 hours back in '05, and figured that number would probably be closer to $40-$50 these days. My biggest concern was whether or not I could tolerate live poker and the types of people that I was so happy to avoid interacting with over the past few years. After taking my first seat in a cash game on the strip in five years, I noticed the guy to my right had one visible tattoo. It was on the inside of his right arm (facing me), and read "Eat shit and die." Damn you, Department of Justice.
Things went fine over the next few weeks, and despite a general lack of motivation to play, I put in around 70 hours at 2/5. I made $25/hour, which is a pretty irrelevant number given that 70 hours of live cash equates to something like 2,500 hands. Regardless, it was obvious to me that I was far too good to play in those games, since I could probably count the number of players that posed a legitimate challenge on one hand. I even made a point to play at a number of different casinos to get a feel for all the games, and the outcome was pretty much the same all across the strip. There's no such thing as a good 2/5 regular unless they're confined to those stakes because of bankroll issues. After PokerStars released players' funds (yay!), I figured I'd jump into the 5/10 games once the money was safely in my account.
Despite being a live cash pro when I first moved to Vegas, I had only played 57 breakeven hours of live 5/10 before moving on to bigger and better things. I didn't have a great idea of what kind of hourly rate to expect, but figured the competition would be noticeably tougher than 2/5. While there are still plenty of fish and bad regulars, the biggest difference is the presence of actual solid regs at almost every table. Unlike 2/5, 5/10 games don't run consistently in any casino other than the Bellagio. Since I tend to play a good amount of mid-week, daytime sessions, I've found myself in a number of games with plenty of regs at the tables. Even on weekends, I notice a lot of the same faces at the tables, something that never happened at 2/5... and somehow, I've actually enjoyed the tougher competition considerably more.
Playing live 2/5 is mind-numbing. There is no creativity, no thinking beyond the first level, and a general lack of interesting spots. Solid fundamentals are all you need to win, and anything beyond that can be a hindrance. After all, what's the point of taking a line to represent a particular hand if your opponent doesn't pay attention to anything but the two cards in front of him? While there's certainly some of those type players at 5/10, there are also players that provide a challenge and tough decisions on every street. It makes the daily grind far more interesting, and even if live cash will never be as appealing as online poker, it's a lot more tolerable when I have to use my brain for more than reminding myself to smile politely at the guy across the table rambling on about his bad beat stories. Oh yeah, 5/10 has also been more enjoyable because I've made $160/hr over my first six sessions (35 hours).
Just as I've settled into a nice groove at 5/10, I'm ready to stop playing cash for the next month and a half. It's WSOP time again, and although things will be very different for me this year, I'm looking forward to another hectic summer of tournaments. Before Stars returned my money, I was concerned that my bankroll would keep me from playing any WSOP events. Not knowing what the future held, I figured I'd go about finding a backing deal for the series. Even with my Stars money safely in my bank account, there's still no way of knowing what my earning potential will be going forward. There's also the matter of Full Tilt still not releasing anyone's money (including my $24k), so I'm not exactly confident in my financial future going forward. Still wanting to play the WSOP but not willing to risk a large percentage of my liquid cash, I decided to sell 80% of myself in a ton of events at a 1.25:1 markup. Basically, I'm freerolling my summer schedule (every WSOP and Venetian NL event between $1k-$2.5k, as well as the main event), but only get to keep 20% of what I cash for. It's far from ideal, but given my situation at the time I locked in the deal, I'm pretty happy to be risking nothing this summer, even if my ability to bink a huge score is severely limited.
Given the nature of my deal, it's in my best interest to play as much as I can, even if I wake up with no desire to play (this tends to happen towards the end of the series every year). As such, my schedule consists of 32 events totaling $57k in buyins, including a stretch of 23 tourneys in 24 days. It will be both mentally and physically exhausting, but I'm actually looking forward to the summer grind more than I have in the last few years. Who knows, maybe I'll even get back to a WSOP final table and make my backer a rich(er) man.
My summer MTT schedule begins on the 31st with a $1k at the Venetian, and starts to get crazy the following weekend. I'm going to be taking it easy between now and then, enjoying the feelings of hope and optimism that always creep into my mind during the last few days of May. Given the uncertainty surrounding my career and finances after the WSOP, a little hope might be all I need to keep me motivated throughout the entire series.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Black Friday
The lives of many American poker players became very complicated on Friday, when the two of the biggest online poker sites were forced to shut their doors to U.S. players indefinitely. There are plenty of better writers with a firmer grasp on what happened, so rather than rehash the events of this weekend, I’ll just link you to a PokerNews article and NoahSD’s blog on the subject. For those of you who want an even quicker summary of the situation, here are the main points:
The Department of Justice has indicted people with ownership ties to Stars, Tilt and Cereus, as well as payment processors for the sites on charges including bribery and bank fraud. American players are no longer able to play on Stars or Tilt, and the money in their accounts has been frozen. Nobody can make transfers or cash out, and there are no answers as to if/when money will be returned to the players.
The long term implications of these events are unknown. Online poker has effectively been shut down in America (aside from a few smaller sites, whose immediate fate is uncertain), and there is no guarantee it will ever return. While the players themselves are unlikely to face any legal trouble, the legal process for those indicted could take a long time, likely tying up the players’ money for months, if not years. The short term implications of everything are clearer: online poker is gone and lots of people are in financial trouble while they wait and hope for their money to be returned to them.
Unsurprisingly, these developments will lead to some serious changes in my life. Had something like this happened two years ago, I would have had enough of a financial cushion to wait things out for a little while, play more live poker, and get a better sense of the long term changes without worrying about my finances. After breaking even over the last two years (I’m up $57k in 2011 though! Too bad it’s basically monopoly money now), my bankroll doesn’t allow that luxury anymore. Even worse, my Stars and Tilt accounts are frozen with a total of $60k in them. All I have access to is $17k, which will last for slightly over two months before my liquid cash is completely drained. The obvious conclusion to all this is that I need to start making money as fast as possible.
The real shame in how the government has handled online poker over the years is the uncertainty that it leaves so many people with after leaving players’ accounts indefinitely frozen. I’m sure there are countless heartbreaking stories of people who are no longer able to support their families, follow through on financial commitments, or simply cash out money that allows them to live a good life. My situation isn’t particularly dire, but I can’t help but be sad at how the sudden change to the status quo will affect Mark and I.
When we moved to Vegas six years ago, Mark had a good job, and was essentially my short term backup plan if poker failed. As I began to have major success in my poker career, we were able to buy a house and live a very comfortable life. Eventually, the money I was making allowed us to look at Mark’s career in a different perspective. He no longer had to work to help pay the bills, and we decided that it was an awesome opportunity for him to return to school. Mark worked full time right out of high school, and despite having a love for politics, was never able to work in the field he was truly passionate about. Our financial freedom gave him the chance to pursue a degree in political science, and we had poker to thank for that opportunity. Not only has he put up remarkable grades in the two years since, the things he’s accomplished outside of class recently landed him on a top ten list of the most important conservatives in the entire state of Nevada. How’s that for poker making a positive impact in people’s lives?
The sudden lack of available money has left us scrambling for ways to cover our monthly expenses. Mark is in the process of sending his resume out, and the time he spends working will naturally delay his graduation from UNLV and cut into his involvement in various organizations. I know that needing to find a job is hardly a harrowing tale of misfortune, and Mark would be the last to complain about our situation, but it bothers me that we’re in this position because of how things transpired this weekend (and to a greater extent, the general approach the government has had to online poker over the years). Personally, I have $17k to work with, and nowhere to turn but low stakes live cash to try and grind out some extra money to help cover our bills. Getting a job is certainly an option, but I have a seven year gap in my resume, the job market is terrible, and anything I could get hired for would pay me less than the small hourly rate I can earn playing live cash.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not complaining about our situation as a whole. Even with everything that transpired this weekend, Mark and I still consider ourselves very fortunate to be in our current position… and while I’d like to rant against the government for putting so many people in such uncertain times, the truth is that I really don’t know enough about the fine details of this whole mess. However, I do know that the consequences of freezing players’ accounts and leaving thousands of us without a source of income with no warning was extremely foreseeable, and it bothers me that things still played out in what seems to be such an irresponsible manner.
I guess what I really want to say is that all this really sucks, and it sucks for everyone involved. I refuse to believe that things couldn’t have been handled better, both this weekend and the countless times in the past the government has tried to get involved with online poker. Seeing people’s reactions online and hearing stories of how this negatively affects so many leaves me with such strong feelings of sadness, and on a personal level, the uncertainty and impending changes in my own life has brought up a collection of unpleasant emotions. More than anything else, I feel deflated.
Today was my first day back to the live cash grind in five years. I can only afford to play 2/5, and might have to drop down soon if my earnings don’t cover our monthly expenses. Grinding low stakes live cash is still better than any job I could find right now, but not by much, both in terms of profitability and enjoyment. Not good times.
The Department of Justice has indicted people with ownership ties to Stars, Tilt and Cereus, as well as payment processors for the sites on charges including bribery and bank fraud. American players are no longer able to play on Stars or Tilt, and the money in their accounts has been frozen. Nobody can make transfers or cash out, and there are no answers as to if/when money will be returned to the players.
The long term implications of these events are unknown. Online poker has effectively been shut down in America (aside from a few smaller sites, whose immediate fate is uncertain), and there is no guarantee it will ever return. While the players themselves are unlikely to face any legal trouble, the legal process for those indicted could take a long time, likely tying up the players’ money for months, if not years. The short term implications of everything are clearer: online poker is gone and lots of people are in financial trouble while they wait and hope for their money to be returned to them.
Unsurprisingly, these developments will lead to some serious changes in my life. Had something like this happened two years ago, I would have had enough of a financial cushion to wait things out for a little while, play more live poker, and get a better sense of the long term changes without worrying about my finances. After breaking even over the last two years (I’m up $57k in 2011 though! Too bad it’s basically monopoly money now), my bankroll doesn’t allow that luxury anymore. Even worse, my Stars and Tilt accounts are frozen with a total of $60k in them. All I have access to is $17k, which will last for slightly over two months before my liquid cash is completely drained. The obvious conclusion to all this is that I need to start making money as fast as possible.
The real shame in how the government has handled online poker over the years is the uncertainty that it leaves so many people with after leaving players’ accounts indefinitely frozen. I’m sure there are countless heartbreaking stories of people who are no longer able to support their families, follow through on financial commitments, or simply cash out money that allows them to live a good life. My situation isn’t particularly dire, but I can’t help but be sad at how the sudden change to the status quo will affect Mark and I.
When we moved to Vegas six years ago, Mark had a good job, and was essentially my short term backup plan if poker failed. As I began to have major success in my poker career, we were able to buy a house and live a very comfortable life. Eventually, the money I was making allowed us to look at Mark’s career in a different perspective. He no longer had to work to help pay the bills, and we decided that it was an awesome opportunity for him to return to school. Mark worked full time right out of high school, and despite having a love for politics, was never able to work in the field he was truly passionate about. Our financial freedom gave him the chance to pursue a degree in political science, and we had poker to thank for that opportunity. Not only has he put up remarkable grades in the two years since, the things he’s accomplished outside of class recently landed him on a top ten list of the most important conservatives in the entire state of Nevada. How’s that for poker making a positive impact in people’s lives?
The sudden lack of available money has left us scrambling for ways to cover our monthly expenses. Mark is in the process of sending his resume out, and the time he spends working will naturally delay his graduation from UNLV and cut into his involvement in various organizations. I know that needing to find a job is hardly a harrowing tale of misfortune, and Mark would be the last to complain about our situation, but it bothers me that we’re in this position because of how things transpired this weekend (and to a greater extent, the general approach the government has had to online poker over the years). Personally, I have $17k to work with, and nowhere to turn but low stakes live cash to try and grind out some extra money to help cover our bills. Getting a job is certainly an option, but I have a seven year gap in my resume, the job market is terrible, and anything I could get hired for would pay me less than the small hourly rate I can earn playing live cash.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not complaining about our situation as a whole. Even with everything that transpired this weekend, Mark and I still consider ourselves very fortunate to be in our current position… and while I’d like to rant against the government for putting so many people in such uncertain times, the truth is that I really don’t know enough about the fine details of this whole mess. However, I do know that the consequences of freezing players’ accounts and leaving thousands of us without a source of income with no warning was extremely foreseeable, and it bothers me that things still played out in what seems to be such an irresponsible manner.
I guess what I really want to say is that all this really sucks, and it sucks for everyone involved. I refuse to believe that things couldn’t have been handled better, both this weekend and the countless times in the past the government has tried to get involved with online poker. Seeing people’s reactions online and hearing stories of how this negatively affects so many leaves me with such strong feelings of sadness, and on a personal level, the uncertainty and impending changes in my own life has brought up a collection of unpleasant emotions. More than anything else, I feel deflated.
Today was my first day back to the live cash grind in five years. I can only afford to play 2/5, and might have to drop down soon if my earnings don’t cover our monthly expenses. Grinding low stakes live cash is still better than any job I could find right now, but not by much, both in terms of profitability and enjoyment. Not good times.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Signs Of Life
As the world's worst blogger over the past year, allow me to apologize for disappearing for the last five months. It's not that I haven't had anything to write about, I just couldn't bring myself to spend any extra time on poker related activities in a long time. My last update was right before the WSOP, a time in which I was optimistic but also concerned about what would happen if the summer didn't go well. That concern turned into a reality after recording one mincash (in the smallest buy-in of the series, no less), and ending the series with my bankroll having been cut in half. It was the low point of my poker career in many ways. In retrospect, that kind of stuff would have been great to write about, although not from a personal standpoint. People are always happy to share stories about their successes, but nobody wants to spill their guts about failing at their job and having to start over from square one.
After busting out of the main event on day two (I got my last twenty BBs in with JJ vs. KK and AA), I wanted nothing to do with poker for the foreseeable future. Even during the last few weeks of the WSOP, I would show up at the Rio with a very negative mindset. While I'm confident that my negativity didn't affect my play, it undoubtedly made me miserable at the tables. If I got my stack in before the river, I was apathetic towards winning the pot or busting out and getting to go home. Everything about playing poker irritated me, something that is exponentially heightened by the types of players that surround you during the WSOP. So when I mercifully lost the remainder of my chips in the final event, I headed home for a long break from poker.
For the rest of July, I did little more than wallow in my misery and watch baseball. It was pretty pathetic. My time as a tournament pro had taken me beyond my wildest expectations and just as quickly reduced me to a cautionary tale of complacency and poor bankroll management. Even though I had no desire to get back to any other form of poker, I knew that I couldn't go back to tourneys any time soon. I hated them. I hated what they had done to my mindset, or more specifically, what I had allowed them to do to me. Unfortunately, I couldn't take more than a month off from playing. The money I had left wasn't going to last more than six months and I needed some kind of cushion to allow me to play stakes that would yield enough of a profit to take care of my monthly expenses, or at least delay going broke long enough for me to relearn how to win at poker. If there was a job on the market that I was interested in doing, qualified for, and paid enough to sustain my current quality of life, I would have quit poker this summer.
In August, I decided to swallow my pride and restart my poker career from square one. My plan was to play 50nl (that's $0.25/$0.50), and make sure I was good enough to beat busto stakes before moving up. Since there isn't a ton of money to be won at 50nl for even the best players, it was more precautionary than anything else. After all, if it took me time to relearn how to beat 6-max games, I'd rather lose $50 per buy-in than two, four or eight times that much. Things went fairly well, I felt confident enough that I could beat those stakes consistently, and moved up to 100nl after 22k hands with a 5.4 bb/100. My time at 50nl was important in a couple other ways as well, because I was able to familiarize myself with the current batch of programs that all cash grinders use.
100nl seemed easy as well, and although I only spent 10k hands at that level, my 19.6 bb/100 would suggest that it didn't pose much of a problem. More accurately, only playing 10k hands at any given level suggests nothing, but I didn't feel outmatched at all. I quickly jumped to 200nl, where I've spent the bulk of my cash game sessions ever since. Over 56k hands, my EV adjusted bb/100 is 4.2, which seems to be a very solid winrate. However, despite getting used to programs like TableNinja, I'm still not comfortable playing more than nine tables and rely heavily on game selection. While making $3,700 ($4,700 EV adjusted) over 56k hands is good at 1/2, it took me over a month to reach those numbers. Part of that is because I've spent a fair amount of time watching videos and studying, but the main reason is because I simply don't enjoy playing cash games. I never have. Even back when I was making great money three years ago, I never managed to put in over 100 hours of play in a single month. Imagine what that does for my motivation when my hourly rate is cut by 80%. Here's my graph from the 90k hands of 50nl-400nl I've played over the past few months:
In contrast, here's my graph from back when I played cash exclusively three years ago:
The games are much, much tougher these days. I recognized a number of people grinding 100nl and 200nl that I used to see at 1knl back in the day. In fact, I can confidently say that 200nl is currently tougher than 1knl was in early 2008. The landscape of online poker has changed dramatically, and I wish I knew what was coming so I could have worked my ass off to make up for the lack of opportunities in the future. Another thing worth checking out from those graphs are the non-showdown winnings, which are represented by the red line. While a given player's non-showdown winnings has a lot to do with his playing style, a good rule of thumb is that you want it to be in the black or at least close to breakeven. A sloping downward line suggests that you're being outplayed postflop, which certainly seems to be the case in my previous graph. The initial downward slope in my latest graph is because I didn't pay attention to non-showdown winnings, and once I took some time to work on that part of my game, the graph as a whole started trending upwards much quicker. I miss the days of making $0.33/hand despite not being particularly good at poker.
In late September, I decided to mix in a few tournament sessions to my schedule. Enough time had passed that I actually wanted to play MTTs again, and anything I could consider productive that would allow me to not have to play cash was more than welcome. Initially, I only played one or two tourney sessions a week. I had a couple final tables, although nothing big enough to keep me from doing much more than breaking even. I was still forcing myself to play cash, even temporarily moving up to 400nl for a few sessions before realizing how much harder game selection was compared to 200nl. In mid-October, I finished second in a small Stars $100r for $13k, which was arguably one of the most meaningful tourney cashes of my career despite being far smaller than the rest of my 'big' scores. As I probably could have predicted, it didn't take long for me to focus more on MTTs than cash. From August to September, I played 130 hours of cash and six hours of tournaments. Last month, those numbers were roughly 50/50. In November, I've played 77 hours of MTTs and seven hours of cash, the last of which were twelve days ago.
As much as I recognize that cash games are important for stability and keeping my 100bb game fresh, I can't stand playing them. On the other hand, there are plenty of times when I actually look forward to a full day of tournaments. My 90k hand tuneup at small stakes cash has definitely helped my game though, and I wonder if the same result can be achieved by simply watching cash videos to stay on top of current trends. Regardless, I am what I am - a tournament player who doesn't have the desire (and perhaps the skill) to switch back to cash full time or even part time.
My bankroll is currently in the neighborhood of $50k. Since my second place finish in the $100r last month, I've come to the realization that I need to be smarter with bankroll management. I've made the decision to cut most $100rs and freezeouts over $300 out of my schedule. There are enough midstakes tourneys to keep my monitor full these days, and I'm content grinding those instead of higher risk/higher reward options. Since getting back into MTTs, my average buy-in has been $116, far less than it used to be. However, the circumstances surrounding my decision making have changed dramatically, and I need to make lowering my risk of ruin my second priority. It should be my first priority, but considering that grinding small stakes cash accomplishes it best, I've put making sure that I don't hate playing poker at the top of the list. So far, so good, and given the quality of competition outside of the high stakes MTTs, I'm feeling pretty optimistic about grinding out a modest living in the near future.
After busting out of the main event on day two (I got my last twenty BBs in with JJ vs. KK and AA), I wanted nothing to do with poker for the foreseeable future. Even during the last few weeks of the WSOP, I would show up at the Rio with a very negative mindset. While I'm confident that my negativity didn't affect my play, it undoubtedly made me miserable at the tables. If I got my stack in before the river, I was apathetic towards winning the pot or busting out and getting to go home. Everything about playing poker irritated me, something that is exponentially heightened by the types of players that surround you during the WSOP. So when I mercifully lost the remainder of my chips in the final event, I headed home for a long break from poker.
For the rest of July, I did little more than wallow in my misery and watch baseball. It was pretty pathetic. My time as a tournament pro had taken me beyond my wildest expectations and just as quickly reduced me to a cautionary tale of complacency and poor bankroll management. Even though I had no desire to get back to any other form of poker, I knew that I couldn't go back to tourneys any time soon. I hated them. I hated what they had done to my mindset, or more specifically, what I had allowed them to do to me. Unfortunately, I couldn't take more than a month off from playing. The money I had left wasn't going to last more than six months and I needed some kind of cushion to allow me to play stakes that would yield enough of a profit to take care of my monthly expenses, or at least delay going broke long enough for me to relearn how to win at poker. If there was a job on the market that I was interested in doing, qualified for, and paid enough to sustain my current quality of life, I would have quit poker this summer.
In August, I decided to swallow my pride and restart my poker career from square one. My plan was to play 50nl (that's $0.25/$0.50), and make sure I was good enough to beat busto stakes before moving up. Since there isn't a ton of money to be won at 50nl for even the best players, it was more precautionary than anything else. After all, if it took me time to relearn how to beat 6-max games, I'd rather lose $50 per buy-in than two, four or eight times that much. Things went fairly well, I felt confident enough that I could beat those stakes consistently, and moved up to 100nl after 22k hands with a 5.4 bb/100. My time at 50nl was important in a couple other ways as well, because I was able to familiarize myself with the current batch of programs that all cash grinders use.
100nl seemed easy as well, and although I only spent 10k hands at that level, my 19.6 bb/100 would suggest that it didn't pose much of a problem. More accurately, only playing 10k hands at any given level suggests nothing, but I didn't feel outmatched at all. I quickly jumped to 200nl, where I've spent the bulk of my cash game sessions ever since. Over 56k hands, my EV adjusted bb/100 is 4.2, which seems to be a very solid winrate. However, despite getting used to programs like TableNinja, I'm still not comfortable playing more than nine tables and rely heavily on game selection. While making $3,700 ($4,700 EV adjusted) over 56k hands is good at 1/2, it took me over a month to reach those numbers. Part of that is because I've spent a fair amount of time watching videos and studying, but the main reason is because I simply don't enjoy playing cash games. I never have. Even back when I was making great money three years ago, I never managed to put in over 100 hours of play in a single month. Imagine what that does for my motivation when my hourly rate is cut by 80%. Here's my graph from the 90k hands of 50nl-400nl I've played over the past few months:
In contrast, here's my graph from back when I played cash exclusively three years ago:
The games are much, much tougher these days. I recognized a number of people grinding 100nl and 200nl that I used to see at 1knl back in the day. In fact, I can confidently say that 200nl is currently tougher than 1knl was in early 2008. The landscape of online poker has changed dramatically, and I wish I knew what was coming so I could have worked my ass off to make up for the lack of opportunities in the future. Another thing worth checking out from those graphs are the non-showdown winnings, which are represented by the red line. While a given player's non-showdown winnings has a lot to do with his playing style, a good rule of thumb is that you want it to be in the black or at least close to breakeven. A sloping downward line suggests that you're being outplayed postflop, which certainly seems to be the case in my previous graph. The initial downward slope in my latest graph is because I didn't pay attention to non-showdown winnings, and once I took some time to work on that part of my game, the graph as a whole started trending upwards much quicker. I miss the days of making $0.33/hand despite not being particularly good at poker.
In late September, I decided to mix in a few tournament sessions to my schedule. Enough time had passed that I actually wanted to play MTTs again, and anything I could consider productive that would allow me to not have to play cash was more than welcome. Initially, I only played one or two tourney sessions a week. I had a couple final tables, although nothing big enough to keep me from doing much more than breaking even. I was still forcing myself to play cash, even temporarily moving up to 400nl for a few sessions before realizing how much harder game selection was compared to 200nl. In mid-October, I finished second in a small Stars $100r for $13k, which was arguably one of the most meaningful tourney cashes of my career despite being far smaller than the rest of my 'big' scores. As I probably could have predicted, it didn't take long for me to focus more on MTTs than cash. From August to September, I played 130 hours of cash and six hours of tournaments. Last month, those numbers were roughly 50/50. In November, I've played 77 hours of MTTs and seven hours of cash, the last of which were twelve days ago.
As much as I recognize that cash games are important for stability and keeping my 100bb game fresh, I can't stand playing them. On the other hand, there are plenty of times when I actually look forward to a full day of tournaments. My 90k hand tuneup at small stakes cash has definitely helped my game though, and I wonder if the same result can be achieved by simply watching cash videos to stay on top of current trends. Regardless, I am what I am - a tournament player who doesn't have the desire (and perhaps the skill) to switch back to cash full time or even part time.
My bankroll is currently in the neighborhood of $50k. Since my second place finish in the $100r last month, I've come to the realization that I need to be smarter with bankroll management. I've made the decision to cut most $100rs and freezeouts over $300 out of my schedule. There are enough midstakes tourneys to keep my monitor full these days, and I'm content grinding those instead of higher risk/higher reward options. Since getting back into MTTs, my average buy-in has been $116, far less than it used to be. However, the circumstances surrounding my decision making have changed dramatically, and I need to make lowering my risk of ruin my second priority. It should be my first priority, but considering that grinding small stakes cash accomplishes it best, I've put making sure that I don't hate playing poker at the top of the list. So far, so good, and given the quality of competition outside of the high stakes MTTs, I'm feeling pretty optimistic about grinding out a modest living in the near future.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
WSOP '10 - Run Good or Bust
The temperature gauge in my car has been approaching triple digits, which means that the most anticipated two months of every poker player's year is on the horizon. If you've had a good start to the year, there's no better time to feel confident and ready to crush against some of the softest fields around. If you've been downswinging recently, the WSOP represents a chance to reverse fortunes with one deep run. Even in extreme cases like my own where a player has lost confidence and has no desire to play poker, fields of amateurs dropping thousands of dollars a piece can do wonders for someone's mindset. I could brick the first few events but still feel reenergized competing against terrible players for seven figure prize pools.
That feeling of encouragement tends to last for a few weeks, but quickly fades as the day one exits pile up. A big cash early is enough to make the rest of the WSOP feel like a freeroll, but the frustration of running badly at the worst possible times can affect a player's mentality before the series is even half over. I've experienced both ends of the spectrum, hitting rock bottom last year when I failed to cash in a single event. By late June, I was expecting the worst every time I was all in, counting down the chances I had left to turn my WSOP around, and finding myself heading home before sundown on a daily basis. Busting out of the main event was obviously disappointing, but it almost felt like a relief to be done with such a brutal series.
In contrast, my '07 WSOP was one of the highlights of my poker career. I final tabled one of the first events I played, and regardless of how I did during the rest of the series, felt on top of the world until I busted from the main event. In fact, my results that summer started me on a tournament kick, one that has lasted until the early parts of this year. Ironically, my results in the upcoming WSOP will likely dictate whether I continue playing tournaments or shift my focus to something completely different. My desire to grind tourneys disappeared earlier this year and has yet to return, undoubtedly correlated with my unsatisfactory results. I suppose it's only fitting that the fate my MTT career, one that has experienced the extreme ups and downs of variance, will be decided by the results of no more than two dozen tournaments, fewer than an average Sunday online.
For now, I'm looking forward another summer spent grinding at the Rio. I don't expect that feeling to last long if things don't go well in the first few weeks. My future as a poker player is very uncertain, and spending the end of the series worrying about my future plans sounds like a surefire way to make life miserable. Right now, my bankroll is slightly over $100k, the lowest it's been since my eight month heater in 2008 began. My plan is to play around 20 WSOP events along with a few at the Bellagio and Venetian, enough to cut my bankroll in half if I brick them all. The odds of that happening for a second straight year are pretty slim, but I'm still going to sell action in some of the bigger events, something which makes me cringe but is 100% necessary. If there was ever a time to run good, focus and play as well as I can, this is it. I'm tired of breaking even, playing without confidence, and perhaps most of all, not enjoying what I do for a living. As absurd as it sounds, a few good days could make everything all better.
This will be my fourth WSOP since moving to Vegas in 2005. Here are some stats from my first three series:
2007 - Eight events, two cashes, +$82,282.
2008 - 23 events, three cashes, -$38,252.
2009 - 21 events, zero cashes, -$52,500.
Totals - 52 events, five cashes, -$8,470, -6.3% ROI.
That feeling of encouragement tends to last for a few weeks, but quickly fades as the day one exits pile up. A big cash early is enough to make the rest of the WSOP feel like a freeroll, but the frustration of running badly at the worst possible times can affect a player's mentality before the series is even half over. I've experienced both ends of the spectrum, hitting rock bottom last year when I failed to cash in a single event. By late June, I was expecting the worst every time I was all in, counting down the chances I had left to turn my WSOP around, and finding myself heading home before sundown on a daily basis. Busting out of the main event was obviously disappointing, but it almost felt like a relief to be done with such a brutal series.
In contrast, my '07 WSOP was one of the highlights of my poker career. I final tabled one of the first events I played, and regardless of how I did during the rest of the series, felt on top of the world until I busted from the main event. In fact, my results that summer started me on a tournament kick, one that has lasted until the early parts of this year. Ironically, my results in the upcoming WSOP will likely dictate whether I continue playing tournaments or shift my focus to something completely different. My desire to grind tourneys disappeared earlier this year and has yet to return, undoubtedly correlated with my unsatisfactory results. I suppose it's only fitting that the fate my MTT career, one that has experienced the extreme ups and downs of variance, will be decided by the results of no more than two dozen tournaments, fewer than an average Sunday online.
For now, I'm looking forward another summer spent grinding at the Rio. I don't expect that feeling to last long if things don't go well in the first few weeks. My future as a poker player is very uncertain, and spending the end of the series worrying about my future plans sounds like a surefire way to make life miserable. Right now, my bankroll is slightly over $100k, the lowest it's been since my eight month heater in 2008 began. My plan is to play around 20 WSOP events along with a few at the Bellagio and Venetian, enough to cut my bankroll in half if I brick them all. The odds of that happening for a second straight year are pretty slim, but I'm still going to sell action in some of the bigger events, something which makes me cringe but is 100% necessary. If there was ever a time to run good, focus and play as well as I can, this is it. I'm tired of breaking even, playing without confidence, and perhaps most of all, not enjoying what I do for a living. As absurd as it sounds, a few good days could make everything all better.
This will be my fourth WSOP since moving to Vegas in 2005. Here are some stats from my first three series:
2007 - Eight events, two cashes, +$82,282.
2008 - 23 events, three cashes, -$38,252.
2009 - 21 events, zero cashes, -$52,500.
Totals - 52 events, five cashes, -$8,470, -6.3% ROI.
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