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Disappointment
Dec. 9th, 2011 06:21 amA very frustrating final day. Was $250 down when I quit, finally reallizing that I was beginning to play badly and that I was getting tired. Oh well, at least I can take as a positive the fact that I didn't try to chase my losses, either at poker or elsewhere in the casino.
In a way it was the same old story. You get a couple of bad breaks with good cards; then you go card dead for a couple of hours; then you get a bit tired (folding hand after hand in a noisy 'social casino' is darned tiring) and then your judgement begins to go. I knew it was time to leave when I made my second bad call (neither was for more than $25, but that's besides the point) with a hand that I knew in my heart was beaten.
The Youngster once made the valid point that the non-local in Vegas is always at a disadvantage because he is running against the clock, that clock being the flight back home. I kind of pooh-poohed this, stating that when I came here I played as if I were a local. But today, when $600 down for the holiday after being $600 up at one point, I could see where he was coming from. The plane is leaving in 15 hours. You have been playing mainly weak players, but things are just not going right. The temptation to "force the pace" is nearly irresistible. All credit to me for still having the strength to get up and walk away. But I couldn't get up and walk away saying "tomorrow is another day", because tomorrow I would be on a plane. Getting up and walking away was accepting defeat for the holiday. And poker players hate to do that.
I'm wondering if I'm not suited to this live game any more. I was finding the deeper stack situation difficult (say, when I got to more than 150 big blinds and there were five other players in the game with the same or more), and the generally laggier style of the competent players made things just a little bit uncomfortable for me. My conclusion was that I should have been more aggressive, but I think that the major area of improvement required would be in choosing my spots and choosing my opponents. I just don't have the practice in this field any more, and much of poker is, despite what some of the live fanatics claim, simply a matter of experience.
So, I should have been more aggressive, and I should have had more experience. The latter can only be achieved by playing much more, and I don't think that my heart is in it, TBH. I used to love live poker. Now I'm beginning to feel like those miserable old gits in the Vic. I just want to win the pots, without any of the adrenaline, thank you very much.
Maybe the money matters too little. The annoyance was solely one of "the game" rather than the cash. $250 over 9 hours of $1-$2 NL is hardly a standard deviation in either direction and is, really, going to make no difference to my life in the slightest. But losing $600 over 60 hours of play is more worrying. And FEELING as if you are losing your touch, that, in fact, you might suck at this game, is more dispiriting still. By the end of tonight, I really just wanted to give up on the game. I don't have the aggression in me any more, I said to myself. I've lost it.
Of course, that feeling passes, and maybe I should give the live games a go in London. At the moment, though, I don't really want to. It's an odd paradox of simultaneously not-wanting/wanting, and I have a hunch that I know what the answwer is; when you are running good, it's a great game. When you aren't, it's shit.
__________________
In a way it was the same old story. You get a couple of bad breaks with good cards; then you go card dead for a couple of hours; then you get a bit tired (folding hand after hand in a noisy 'social casino' is darned tiring) and then your judgement begins to go. I knew it was time to leave when I made my second bad call (neither was for more than $25, but that's besides the point) with a hand that I knew in my heart was beaten.
The Youngster once made the valid point that the non-local in Vegas is always at a disadvantage because he is running against the clock, that clock being the flight back home. I kind of pooh-poohed this, stating that when I came here I played as if I were a local. But today, when $600 down for the holiday after being $600 up at one point, I could see where he was coming from. The plane is leaving in 15 hours. You have been playing mainly weak players, but things are just not going right. The temptation to "force the pace" is nearly irresistible. All credit to me for still having the strength to get up and walk away. But I couldn't get up and walk away saying "tomorrow is another day", because tomorrow I would be on a plane. Getting up and walking away was accepting defeat for the holiday. And poker players hate to do that.
I'm wondering if I'm not suited to this live game any more. I was finding the deeper stack situation difficult (say, when I got to more than 150 big blinds and there were five other players in the game with the same or more), and the generally laggier style of the competent players made things just a little bit uncomfortable for me. My conclusion was that I should have been more aggressive, but I think that the major area of improvement required would be in choosing my spots and choosing my opponents. I just don't have the practice in this field any more, and much of poker is, despite what some of the live fanatics claim, simply a matter of experience.
So, I should have been more aggressive, and I should have had more experience. The latter can only be achieved by playing much more, and I don't think that my heart is in it, TBH. I used to love live poker. Now I'm beginning to feel like those miserable old gits in the Vic. I just want to win the pots, without any of the adrenaline, thank you very much.
Maybe the money matters too little. The annoyance was solely one of "the game" rather than the cash. $250 over 9 hours of $1-$2 NL is hardly a standard deviation in either direction and is, really, going to make no difference to my life in the slightest. But losing $600 over 60 hours of play is more worrying. And FEELING as if you are losing your touch, that, in fact, you might suck at this game, is more dispiriting still. By the end of tonight, I really just wanted to give up on the game. I don't have the aggression in me any more, I said to myself. I've lost it.
Of course, that feeling passes, and maybe I should give the live games a go in London. At the moment, though, I don't really want to. It's an odd paradox of simultaneously not-wanting/wanting, and I have a hunch that I know what the answwer is; when you are running good, it's a great game. When you aren't, it's shit.
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