Sep. 30th, 2006

peterbirks: (Default)
It's always good to see the underside, the cruel side, of Las Vegas. I don't just mean the drunks walking the strip early morning, finding half-empty bottles of MGD (trust me, for these guys, the bottles are definitely half-empty rather than half-full). There was also the moment last night when a guy on his own who had ordered a meal at the Victorian steak house fell asleep (well, it was 3am Friday night). So the shift boss woke him up once, and then security threw him out. I don't think that he was busto -- just drunk and tired.

As if that wasn't severe enough, a party of five girls on a hen night had one member who was very drunk. The five of them ordered their meal, but very drunk girl started to fall asleep. The other four were fine, not loud or anything. No good, along comes security to tell the group that if she doesn't stay awake, she has to leave. There's a strict rule against "sleepers" in Las Vegas casinos, and the minimum-wage security dorks worried for their jobs enforce it with maximum vigour.

But it's hard to imagine a party containing one "sleeper" in a restaurant in Braintree being treated with such disdain on a Friday night. I felt quite sorry for the girls. Oh, and I started to realize how tired I was myself. Christ, I thought, don't fall asleep, whatever you do.

A better day today, and the Birks book is back to modestly in the black. I really had some dreadful opponents today - really the types that you absolutely love. Limpers, passive, give you free cards, stunned by pre-flop raises ('hmm, that's an interesting tactic, I'll try that in our Bute, Montana home game') and generally so readable that they might as well have been playing with their cards face up.

But every so often I just have to try to establish what is going on in someone's head. This hand was an example.

I was in the BB with 9s 9h. There is one limper round to the SB, a young friendly kid who was very much part of the "let's see what's through the round window today" (henceforth known as "PSV" or "Play School Variable"). He raises and, perhaps incorrectly, I failed to three-bet. It mattered not because, equally mysteriously, the original limper folded.

Flop comes 7d 6d 5c

SB checks and I bet. SB calls.

Turn is Js.

SB pauses. I'm tempted to put him on something like AJ suited here, but then he checks. Weird. What can he have that makes him think, then check?

I don't see that I have any choice but to bet here. So I do, and he calls.

River is a King, or something like that.

He checks, I check, and he turns over Jc 2c.

Completely baffled by the entire progression of the hand, I have to ask him the following:

"Any reason for the raise preflop there?"

"I liked the look of them."

"And then you called the flop."

"It was only four dollars. And I had the clubs."

"There were two diamonds on board."

"Wasn't there a club as well?"

"OK, and then you hit your Jack, which was one of the best three cards in the deck for you, and you failed to bet it". (I thought it best not to mention the concept of check-raising).

"Well, there was a possible straight on board. I don't want you raising me to sixteen dollars with a straight."

"But the possible straight was there on the flop when you called."

"Yeah, but it was only four dollars".

Now, it's a mistake to think that most of your opponents are as brain-dead as this. Most of them aren't. But you just have to realize that, for some players, there is virtually no poker mind at work at all. This guy's logic was perfectly internally consistent, and revolved solely around the fact that four dollars wasn't much, whereas sixteen dollars was too much. The board, pot odds, his cards, all came behind this simple financial fact.

Friday, Up: Trip so far, modestly up.

some pics )

August 2023

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