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I've been reading "The Age Of Absurdity" by Michael Foley, a book which appears to have more wisdom in its first 60 pages than many other books have in 600. I can't recommend it highly enough.
I suppose there might be a bit of the Grumpy Old Man empathy going on, but Foley is at least a thinker, and one of the key takeaways from the portion I have read so far would be "why nearly all people would make bad poker players and why most poker players make bad poker players".
But there's much much more. One interesting point that I came across was the impact of events is never as significant as we think they will be. Or, in other words, "eventually, we cope with anything". Just wonder to yourself how often you say "Oh, I couldn't ever cope with ... (being housebound, being blind, etc etc). Foley notes that we recover from most things remarkably quickly (e.g., a very bad session at cards) and even the worst things usually only retain their non-habituation status for about a year.
Which of course led me to "What a difference a Year Makes". This time last year I was $9k up and had just won an additional $18k package to Monte Carlo. Today I'm in the middle/start/end (how do I know which?) of a run (that started on March 10th) that has seen me lose 90% of my cash winnings so far this year. This time last year I was emotionally a wreck, an event which only now do I feel that I have mostly recovered from. This year I feel emotionally stronger, nearly ready to face the world.
On the poker side, I'm $1600 down on the month ($800 of it the last two sessions, just as I thought I was getting back on track!). My EV is negative and my actual performance is far worse than that (down 8 buy ins at EV, down 18 buy ins in real cash). It's a $3,600 downswing at the tables and a $2,600 downswing even after including bonuses.
It is, in other words, tough.
I said at the beginning of the year that I would allow myself two months of back-to-back losses before moving back down to $100 buy in. Despite the disasters, I've only lost 25% of my Stars bankroll (the main disaster area). I might adapt this to being "two losses within three months".
And I really do feel to myself that I have run horribly badly. On top of that, the stats say that I ought to expect these runs every now and again -- although, to be honest, not two of them in five months.
But the running badly cannot but help seep into affecting your play. When you defend a big blind with T9s to a laggy raiser on the button, and the flop comes T92, it's a bit heartbreaking to find opponent with 22 when his range after the flop action includes AA-JJ, Qj and KJs as well.
It's a bit heartbreaking to take a view on a hand with AK and to get it all-in against full-stacked player A (who has 33) and half-stacked player B (who has JJ), see a flop of AK5, a turn of a 9 and a river of a 3, costing you a $500 pot.
And it goes on like that. When you have KK and the board comes QJ9, opponent will have JJ. When you have QQ and the board comes QJ9, opponent has nothing. You never get paid off, you always find yourself paying off.
Yep, it's tough.
So, you have to look at the bright side. My EV for the month is minus $800 (cash at tables is minus $2,600), and I've paid $2,100 in rake, which means that, even though this has been the month from hell, in EV terms I would be getting as much back in rakeback as I have lost in EV. Most of the time I feel that I have a handle on opponents. There are some tricky players on every table, but even against those I would say that there are no more than three or four at $1-$2 NL on Stars whom I would class as quite clearly better than me.
So, the task is to keep calm, keep at it, and wait for things to turn around.
But (and it's here that the self-doubt comes in, and here that you risk hearing bollocks at a later date from people who don't understand risk -- i.e., nearly everyone), what if I'm wrong? What if the games have got tougher and I am now a loser? What if next month this really kicks home and I go down to nearly nothing on Stars, losing an $8k bankroll?
Then you not only have to suffer losing your money, but you have to suffer tossers saying "Why didn't you quit at the end of last month? That way you would have at least saved some of it?"
This of course is on a par with what Mike Caro calls the stupidest question in gambling.. You get $50k up, but lose $32k of it back. Some twat asks: "why didn't you quit when you were $50k ahead".
As Caro points out, the reason this is the dumbest question in gambling is that no-one asks Phil Ivey: "Why didn't you quit when you were $50k ahead?"
But the worries remain. Is this the end of the road? Playing poker when racked with self-doubt is not easy. And $3k downswings aren't something I ever experienced at limit. One thing it has convinced me is that I need to be much bigger bankrolled to make a sustained shot at $2-$4, let alone $3-$6 or $5-$10. And that too is very depressing. I've whacked in a huge volume this quarter and I've got $4k to show for it (although I fully expect to lose another $1k of that by the end of the day.....) Three years ago that would have been a good quarter (but without the volatility) and I would have been happy. Today, it's a big disappointment.
As Foley observes, habituation is stronger than we think. I sit here now, saying "oh, if I could just win $100k a year, or $10k a month, that would be enough". But would it? If I see $4k in Q1 as unsatisfactory (something which 10 years ago I would have been happy with for the whole year) then what happens if I get better and make $25k for a few quarters on the trot? Then I would be disappointed with an $8k quarter and, even worse, I would have occasional $20k downswings to deal with.
I'm not happy with the way I am at the moment and I lack the imagination and the courage to change it. Foley refers to habituation, but he notes that cosmetic surgery seems to be an exception -- it continues to make people happy. I can testify to this. The money I spent on my teeth continues to make me happier. I also sustain continued happiness from my new kitchen and new bathroom. So, there are positive areas where habituation does not cause things to wear off withinh a year. But there are negative sides too, and being alone is one of those. Ideally I would like to be happily married with a wife of 10 to 15 years and two or three children. Well, clearly, that can't happen. You have to go through the 10 years beforehand first, and that is now too late. I think I have been very unlucky in this regard. Foley notes that it's all too easy to blame outside forces (parents and aliens being particularly popular sources), or to blame one's own genetic make-up. And, indeed, sonme people are genetically disposed to be happy.
But these excuses are also easy scapegoats, just as is blaming one's own manic-depression, or addictive personality. One thing that Foley makes clear is that any book which says that the path (whatever that path might be) is easy, is talking shite. Nothing comes without hard work. So to say "I lack the imagination and I lack the courage to...." is basically just another cop-out.
But, once again, that doesn't mean there is no such thing as bad luck, and I suspect that I have suffered from it. Barry Greenstein makes an interesting comment on this, using "the butterfly effect". Perhaps if I had got into a different tube carriage one day. Perhaps if I had walked down a different corridor that summer of 1974 (which would have meant that I missed the ad for working in Mecca Bookmakers -- one of my worst path choices). Perhaps if I hadn't read that Evening Standard that Saturday that informed me of the National Games Club. All of these "what ifs" could have led me down a totally different path and I might be sitting here, with a wife and two or three kids, saying "Man, how lucky I have been in life". Alternatively, perhaps my genetic disposition means that, no matter what had happened to me, I might be considering myself unhappy and wondering "what might have been". I can never know.
Although the poker is getting me down; although I really do feel I have to get the courage and imagination together to make some important decisions, I am not particularly downbeat. For this, much credit to Foley, who seems to indicate paths of escape. And, chemically, I don't feel too bad. But, most of all (as mentioned early in this overlong ramble), I think I have got over the emotional mess that I was in from November 2008 onwards. It's taken me a bit over a year, but, well, blokes always suffer more, don't they (see man flu!)? But at least I'm getting a bit of "ok, let's take on the world, you aren't dead yet, and if people don't appreciate you, then that's their problem, not yours. It's their loss".
That, at least, is progress.
_________
I suppose there might be a bit of the Grumpy Old Man empathy going on, but Foley is at least a thinker, and one of the key takeaways from the portion I have read so far would be "why nearly all people would make bad poker players and why most poker players make bad poker players".
But there's much much more. One interesting point that I came across was the impact of events is never as significant as we think they will be. Or, in other words, "eventually, we cope with anything". Just wonder to yourself how often you say "Oh, I couldn't ever cope with ... (being housebound, being blind, etc etc). Foley notes that we recover from most things remarkably quickly (e.g., a very bad session at cards) and even the worst things usually only retain their non-habituation status for about a year.
Which of course led me to "What a difference a Year Makes". This time last year I was $9k up and had just won an additional $18k package to Monte Carlo. Today I'm in the middle/start/end (how do I know which?) of a run (that started on March 10th) that has seen me lose 90% of my cash winnings so far this year. This time last year I was emotionally a wreck, an event which only now do I feel that I have mostly recovered from. This year I feel emotionally stronger, nearly ready to face the world.
On the poker side, I'm $1600 down on the month ($800 of it the last two sessions, just as I thought I was getting back on track!). My EV is negative and my actual performance is far worse than that (down 8 buy ins at EV, down 18 buy ins in real cash). It's a $3,600 downswing at the tables and a $2,600 downswing even after including bonuses.
It is, in other words, tough.
I said at the beginning of the year that I would allow myself two months of back-to-back losses before moving back down to $100 buy in. Despite the disasters, I've only lost 25% of my Stars bankroll (the main disaster area). I might adapt this to being "two losses within three months".
And I really do feel to myself that I have run horribly badly. On top of that, the stats say that I ought to expect these runs every now and again -- although, to be honest, not two of them in five months.
But the running badly cannot but help seep into affecting your play. When you defend a big blind with T9s to a laggy raiser on the button, and the flop comes T92, it's a bit heartbreaking to find opponent with 22 when his range after the flop action includes AA-JJ, Qj and KJs as well.
It's a bit heartbreaking to take a view on a hand with AK and to get it all-in against full-stacked player A (who has 33) and half-stacked player B (who has JJ), see a flop of AK5, a turn of a 9 and a river of a 3, costing you a $500 pot.
And it goes on like that. When you have KK and the board comes QJ9, opponent will have JJ. When you have QQ and the board comes QJ9, opponent has nothing. You never get paid off, you always find yourself paying off.
Yep, it's tough.
So, you have to look at the bright side. My EV for the month is minus $800 (cash at tables is minus $2,600), and I've paid $2,100 in rake, which means that, even though this has been the month from hell, in EV terms I would be getting as much back in rakeback as I have lost in EV. Most of the time I feel that I have a handle on opponents. There are some tricky players on every table, but even against those I would say that there are no more than three or four at $1-$2 NL on Stars whom I would class as quite clearly better than me.
So, the task is to keep calm, keep at it, and wait for things to turn around.
But (and it's here that the self-doubt comes in, and here that you risk hearing bollocks at a later date from people who don't understand risk -- i.e., nearly everyone), what if I'm wrong? What if the games have got tougher and I am now a loser? What if next month this really kicks home and I go down to nearly nothing on Stars, losing an $8k bankroll?
Then you not only have to suffer losing your money, but you have to suffer tossers saying "Why didn't you quit at the end of last month? That way you would have at least saved some of it?"
This of course is on a par with what Mike Caro calls the stupidest question in gambling.. You get $50k up, but lose $32k of it back. Some twat asks: "why didn't you quit when you were $50k ahead".
As Caro points out, the reason this is the dumbest question in gambling is that no-one asks Phil Ivey: "Why didn't you quit when you were $50k ahead?"
But the worries remain. Is this the end of the road? Playing poker when racked with self-doubt is not easy. And $3k downswings aren't something I ever experienced at limit. One thing it has convinced me is that I need to be much bigger bankrolled to make a sustained shot at $2-$4, let alone $3-$6 or $5-$10. And that too is very depressing. I've whacked in a huge volume this quarter and I've got $4k to show for it (although I fully expect to lose another $1k of that by the end of the day.....) Three years ago that would have been a good quarter (but without the volatility) and I would have been happy. Today, it's a big disappointment.
As Foley observes, habituation is stronger than we think. I sit here now, saying "oh, if I could just win $100k a year, or $10k a month, that would be enough". But would it? If I see $4k in Q1 as unsatisfactory (something which 10 years ago I would have been happy with for the whole year) then what happens if I get better and make $25k for a few quarters on the trot? Then I would be disappointed with an $8k quarter and, even worse, I would have occasional $20k downswings to deal with.
I'm not happy with the way I am at the moment and I lack the imagination and the courage to change it. Foley refers to habituation, but he notes that cosmetic surgery seems to be an exception -- it continues to make people happy. I can testify to this. The money I spent on my teeth continues to make me happier. I also sustain continued happiness from my new kitchen and new bathroom. So, there are positive areas where habituation does not cause things to wear off withinh a year. But there are negative sides too, and being alone is one of those. Ideally I would like to be happily married with a wife of 10 to 15 years and two or three children. Well, clearly, that can't happen. You have to go through the 10 years beforehand first, and that is now too late. I think I have been very unlucky in this regard. Foley notes that it's all too easy to blame outside forces (parents and aliens being particularly popular sources), or to blame one's own genetic make-up. And, indeed, sonme people are genetically disposed to be happy.
But these excuses are also easy scapegoats, just as is blaming one's own manic-depression, or addictive personality. One thing that Foley makes clear is that any book which says that the path (whatever that path might be) is easy, is talking shite. Nothing comes without hard work. So to say "I lack the imagination and I lack the courage to...." is basically just another cop-out.
But, once again, that doesn't mean there is no such thing as bad luck, and I suspect that I have suffered from it. Barry Greenstein makes an interesting comment on this, using "the butterfly effect". Perhaps if I had got into a different tube carriage one day. Perhaps if I had walked down a different corridor that summer of 1974 (which would have meant that I missed the ad for working in Mecca Bookmakers -- one of my worst path choices). Perhaps if I hadn't read that Evening Standard that Saturday that informed me of the National Games Club. All of these "what ifs" could have led me down a totally different path and I might be sitting here, with a wife and two or three kids, saying "Man, how lucky I have been in life". Alternatively, perhaps my genetic disposition means that, no matter what had happened to me, I might be considering myself unhappy and wondering "what might have been". I can never know.
Although the poker is getting me down; although I really do feel I have to get the courage and imagination together to make some important decisions, I am not particularly downbeat. For this, much credit to Foley, who seems to indicate paths of escape. And, chemically, I don't feel too bad. But, most of all (as mentioned early in this overlong ramble), I think I have got over the emotional mess that I was in from November 2008 onwards. It's taken me a bit over a year, but, well, blokes always suffer more, don't they (see man flu!)? But at least I'm getting a bit of "ok, let's take on the world, you aren't dead yet, and if people don't appreciate you, then that's their problem, not yours. It's their loss".
That, at least, is progress.
_________
