The bankroll has been going through some trying times. So has the ego. But suffering bad betas is still part of the game, even if two straights on the river in a $3/$6 limit cash game killed off my sets both times and obliterated my buy-in Friday night. (To be fair, I got tied to them a bit and lost a few bets that I shouldn’t have.)
But Sunday was tournament time.
Before I go on, I want to lament the disappearance of the limit tournament, at least here in the Bay Area. More than likely thanks to television showing almost all no-limit games, that’s what casinos and card clubs have turned to to get the player turnout.
At the Oaks Player of the Year series, Sunday’s limit tournament drew just 61 entrants. To be fair, a big series at Lucky Chances, in Colma across the bay, was having its no-limit finale as wel, but still, the limit tournaments have been drawing deveral dozen fewer entrants that the no-limit tournaments.
Again, thanks to television, starry-eyed newbies plunk their money down for the no-limit versions with visions of huge payouts and only two words on their mind: “all in.”
Me, I like limit tounaments.
Sunday I placed in the money once again. 7th this time, although as usual, I wanted higher. I made just one significant mistake, one that had I not made it, may have allowed me to go deeper.
I didn’t like the start, getting a powerful 52 offsuit. Naturally, I flded it, and just as naturally, both a 5 and a 2 fell on the flop. Ah, the random distribution of cards.
I played a typically conservative, solid game the first few rounds, up to the break. I had hit one good hand, yet I was up only a few hundred chips from the 500 buy-in. But that one hand….
I was in seat 6, one of my favorites (I can see the board cards better). I had a frequent raiser in seat 9 and a calling station in seat 7. I had played against the player in seat 1 before and knew him to be quite good, and very capable of strong plays. The rest of the seats seemed average to good. Just before this hand, a very potty-mouthed player who I’d palyed against before in cash games joined us in seat 10 and immediately started dropping f-bombs when he lost a couple of the bad hands he played. But I knew he tended to be overly aggressive as well.
I was in the small blind. 5 people limped in around to me and I looked to see 9s 5s. I decided to call the half small bet and the big blind just checked. The flop came 8 7 3 rainbow. I checked, and to my surprise, it was checked around. My beautiful 6 came on the turn. I checked again, feeling sure that a bet was coming, and I was pretty sure I knew from where.
Sure enough, the player in seat 10, who I’ve never seen allow a checked-around round twice, bet out. One additional player called, whereupon I raised. The player in seat 10 called downto the river and I raked in a nice pot.
A few rounds later, I got pocket 8s. One player on my right called and added a partial raise to go all in. Another player on my right called the partial raise, but was left with a short stack himself. I decided to complete the raise. I got one other called, the player in seat 9 who had been a frequent raiser, and the player on my right called the completion to himslf go all-in. The flop was a bit scary, but I bet out anyway. I got just called down to the river–but I ended up not only neating the caller, but neither of the all-in players could beat my pair either.
I had built up a nice stack when I finally got moved, to one of the final 3 tables. Immediately to my left was a player who I’d encountered before, a failly aggressive-and, uh, gregarious–player. It was here that I made a crucial mistake.
We were playing 600/1200 with blinds of 400 and 600. Most players at the table were playing cautiously, with raises sometimes just picking up the blinds. I was on the button an found AJ offsuit and raised. The player to my left, the small blind, re-raised.
Rather than think about what he might have to do that, I thought only that, as an aggressive player, he was reading my raise as an attempt to steal the blinds and was playing back at me. So I capped. The flop brought Jxx rainbow and I bet out–and he raised again. I called, then just check-called down to the river. I never improved my jacks, but he turned over pocket aces to take downa very nice pot, most of which had come from my stack.
The good news was that I had started with one of the bigger stacks at the table. Careful play from then out enabled me to recoup a bit of that loss and make it to the final table with the 2nd or 3rd largest stack, although the biggest stack, about double the 2nd largest, was on my immediate left.
At one point, one player had one chip and called just before he got to the blinds. I was in the big blind and one other player had called the one chip, and we all have live cards, and it was the one-chip limper who tripled up by hitting a pair.
We were at 3000/6000 with 2000 and 3000 blinds and still had 7 players, a lot for that late. This was partially because when we were down to 11 players, we played hand-for-hand for more than a dozenhands before the bubble player got knocked out, and that hand-for-hand time took nearly an entire level.
I had 9000 in chips, a bit below average, and was on the button. I found As 2s and raised. the small blind folded, but the big blind re-raised.
I had 3000 in chips left and 4 hands before I would have had to throw those chips in the pot with a random big-blind hand (assuming I didn’t defy the odds and get a better hand than As 2s at a 7-handed table before then). The big blind was a pretty good player (as were all by this time) who at times earlier had seems a big loose but had tightened up his game. I thought for a moment and concluded he probably had a pocket pair.
But against any pair other than aces, I was thinking I had close to a 1 in 3 chance of winning with one overcard, the small chance of hitting the nut flush, and a remote chance of a wheel. There were now 17,000 chips in the pot and it was 3000 for me to call. I was getting better than 5-1 on what I thought was about a 3-1 shot.
“I have no choice,” I said, as I tossed my final 3000 chips in.
The big blind turned over pocket jacks.
As it turns out, I was right. with that matchup, I had a 32.5% chance to win. Unfortunately, the longshot flush or straight didn’t come close to materializing, and I couldn’t spike an ace, and I stood up in 7th place.
I left feeling good. I recognized that I had made the one mistake, but had made good decisions the rest of the time.
I also wondered if I should spend more time in tournament play and less in ring game play, where gamblers tend to congregate more and where suck outs can rule a session. But the limit calendar is, well, limited.
Heck, the only other limit tounament I’ve found in the Bay Area (that’s playabl anyway, which means evenings or weekends, and I’m not talking about all-night affairs that start at midnight-ish) is a Saturday morning event at Bay101.
I noticed The Bike is holding a limit event onThansgiving night. I’ve not any definite plans for Thanksgiving yet, so maybe a short trip to th Southland is in order fr the holiday. I could play the Oaks Wednesday evening tournament here, drive down Thursday, do that tournament Thursday evening, maybe play a cash game after that, play some more Friday and maybe Saturday morning (or maybe I can track down another Southland limit tournament Friday or early Saturday), then drive back Saturday evening, but not too late to catch Bay101 Sunday morning, and then be ready for the Oaks limit session Sunday afternoon. We’ll see….