I didn't start playing live poker until I had been playing online for a couple of years. I had heard that live poker players were supposed to be worse than online players. The comparison that I frequently heard was that winning 10c/25c NL players could crush a $1/$2 NL live game. Well, I was able to win at 25NL online, so I brought three buyins--$600ish--to Harrahs in Council Bluffs (near Omaha) and gave it a try.
Because I didn't know much about live poker--except from what I had seen on TV, which didn't give me much guidance--I didn't really know what was abnormal about my first game. I guess I was too nervous about doing something wrong. But it turns out that two things were quite strange.
The first thing was Seat Ten.
I bought in for $200, which I believe was the maximum (perhaps $300? It has been a while) and observed Seat Ten go all-in about every third hand. At a passive table. The action would begin with three or four calls, then ten seat would go all in--maybe $90 into a $10 pot--and everyone would fold.
On 10's third all-in attempt, one of the limpers called and turned over something like ace ten. Ten Seat had QT. Anyway, Ten hit his lucky queen and suddenly he had a stack again. I had the feeling that a few players were deflated by the outcome. They wanted Seat Ten off the table so that they could resume limping and seeing flops. Personally, I loved Seat Ten, because I was sitting in seat one.
Meanwhile, I kept waiting. I recall raising a pair of tens and getting one caller. On an ace-high flop, I chickened out, lost, and resumed folding for an orbit or so. I was so nervous that my VPIP might have been 5 percent.
Things settled down for a bit until Seat Ten turned on his randomizer again. A few players called, Ten declared all in, and the action folded around to seat eight, a young guy with a shaved head and a really old looking t-shirt who had a similar stack. Shaved Head quickly said, "Call."
His trap had sprung!
Before the flop, Seat Ten flipped over pocket aces, and Shaved Head went quiet.
But when the flop came 3 3 2, Shaved Head exposed A 3, whooped, and that's when the second strange thing happened.
Shaved Head, as white as they come, started some kind of wannabe gangsta trash talk.
"That's how I do!" he exclaimed. "You can't come with rockets against this," he said loudly, touching his chest. "Oh no, you can't. This is how I do. Quads. Gimme quads. I don't win without quads." He said all of this in a tone of voice that previously had not belonged to him. He suddenly sounded inner city. But not exactly inner city. He sounded like a white kid who has measured his toughness by a single visit to the inner city during which he had not been beaten up.
Anyway, quads didn't come, Seat Ten departed with a surprising amount of grace, and I, on my first trip to a poker room, was too nervous to win at the softest live table I have ever found.
Because I didn't know much about live poker--except from what I had seen on TV, which didn't give me much guidance--I didn't really know what was abnormal about my first game. I guess I was too nervous about doing something wrong. But it turns out that two things were quite strange.
The first thing was Seat Ten.
I bought in for $200, which I believe was the maximum (perhaps $300? It has been a while) and observed Seat Ten go all-in about every third hand. At a passive table. The action would begin with three or four calls, then ten seat would go all in--maybe $90 into a $10 pot--and everyone would fold.
On 10's third all-in attempt, one of the limpers called and turned over something like ace ten. Ten Seat had QT. Anyway, Ten hit his lucky queen and suddenly he had a stack again. I had the feeling that a few players were deflated by the outcome. They wanted Seat Ten off the table so that they could resume limping and seeing flops. Personally, I loved Seat Ten, because I was sitting in seat one.
Meanwhile, I kept waiting. I recall raising a pair of tens and getting one caller. On an ace-high flop, I chickened out, lost, and resumed folding for an orbit or so. I was so nervous that my VPIP might have been 5 percent.
Things settled down for a bit until Seat Ten turned on his randomizer again. A few players called, Ten declared all in, and the action folded around to seat eight, a young guy with a shaved head and a really old looking t-shirt who had a similar stack. Shaved Head quickly said, "Call."
His trap had sprung!
Before the flop, Seat Ten flipped over pocket aces, and Shaved Head went quiet.
But when the flop came 3 3 2, Shaved Head exposed A 3, whooped, and that's when the second strange thing happened.
Shaved Head, as white as they come, started some kind of wannabe gangsta trash talk.
"That's how I do!" he exclaimed. "You can't come with rockets against this," he said loudly, touching his chest. "Oh no, you can't. This is how I do. Quads. Gimme quads. I don't win without quads." He said all of this in a tone of voice that previously had not belonged to him. He suddenly sounded inner city. But not exactly inner city. He sounded like a white kid who has measured his toughness by a single visit to the inner city during which he had not been beaten up.
Anyway, quads didn't come, Seat Ten departed with a surprising amount of grace, and I, on my first trip to a poker room, was too nervous to win at the softest live table I have ever found.
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