Grubby at PokerWorks

“No man’s life, liberty, or property are safe while the legislature is in session.”
– Mark Twain on the U.S. government and online gambling

I half-expect never to again see my cyber money in NETeller or in Full Tilt.

For a poker player, this is probably the best way to play. Raise with impunity now, because even if you win, you lose. No such thing as scared money online here in the U.S. and A.

Since the New Year, I’d been winning steadily at Full Tilt (click the link to the left if you can figure out how to deposit) in SnGs, limit, and no-limit. Some days were up a little, others were up a lot, but always up and averaging $200/day. I wondered when the losing monster would peek out from under the covers as it usually did to reclaim what was rightfully his. One time the monster came dressed as Uncle Sam, but slot and blackjack losses made up for that. Another time the monster came dressed in an overcoat and Saran Wrap, but she had the wrong apartment and charged too much. Most times the monster is dressed as variance, and while I don’t know what that looks like exactly, I know the color is red and no high pocket pair is safe.

Goodness knows I’ve had enough bad runs that it was time to enjoy the winning feeling, put my feet up, and laugh to myself as my good hands held up. I’d still clench my fists and jaw, giving the squinty evil-eye to the monitor until the happy ending (so to speak), but it was as close to relaxed as I’ll ever be during all-in showdowns.

I didn’t expect said monster to pay a return visit so suddenly and so swiftly.

Last Friday, Donkey Puncher and I went to his friend Manny’s home poker game on Diversey. There was spilled beer, greasy pizza, cigarellos, scotch, and, this time, no self-urination. Poker at Manny’s is always a good time and could only be made better if we hired strippers to serve drinks. They’d certainly give new meaning to getting a bad beat. The worst beat of the night, though, was the Thai-Japanese restaurant called Satay, where we had a sorry excuse for dinner unless you consider fusion as edamame soaked in wet gym socks.

The three of us who were the last to leave came out big winners at 3x-5x our buy-ins, and we thought how ironic it would be if we got mugged. Sometimes if you say it out loud you dispel the possibility of it occurring.

On the cab ride back, DP said, “You gonna play tonight?”

I looked at him dumbfounded. As if he had to ask.

“See you there,” he said.

At the time, it was 3 a.m., mind you.

The past couple months my stomach’s had an aversion to anything with heavy alcohol content. I picked up some acid-reducing pills but forgot to bring them so couldn’t partake in the scotch. At least if my bloodstream were swimming with alcohol, I’d have an excuse not to play.

I loaded up Full Tilt and launched four SnGs of varying buy-ins, placing a screen in each quadrant of the monitor.

Somewhere within the second and third levels, I passed out into a big wet drool spot on the keyboard that I couldn’t be sure wasn’t already there before I fell asleep.

I awoke a half hour later to find popup windows on each saying how I’d placed: 3rd, 4th, 5th, 4th.

Grumbling to myself that I’m too tight a player while unconscious, I had the wherewithal to turn off the computer, peel myself away from the drool, and sleep in a good part of Saturday, so at least I would be well-rested to experience what would become my single biggest losing day in poker.

Nothing held up — cards, bluffs, draws, reads, luck. I was playing higher than I was bankrolled for (8/16 6max limit and 2/4 no-limit), both featuring players much better than I am. But still.

Twice I was beaten by quads, once I flopped quads, once I rivered a royal, and once I lost to a straight flush when four people went all-in on the flop — me with top two, the others on draws that should’ve taken up the others’ outs. Crazy hands.

DP sweated me at an 8/16, seeing me there with $500. I just remember closing that table with $0.

Even my trusty SnGs punched me in the gut, losing a whopping 10 in a row (four of them $110s). Sharkscope labeled me as on “Super Tilt,” which didn’t do me any favors if any opponent looked me up while playing.

And speaking of, here was my competition from players at a $55 SnG:

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Much like a cash game full of loose players who call anything, I need at least a couple players at the table who have an ROI in the black.

I lost enough to put me back to where I was when ‘007 started, enough to rival one of my big losing days in blackjack, enough to wonder why I didn’t just play blackjack to get the loss over with quicker and oh yeah, it was because I couldn’t deposit, so I suppose I’m thankful for small Frist favors.

Here’s a graph of just how I did in SnGs, otherwise known as my impression of the fall of the dot-coms:

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I don’t keep record of the limit and no-limit losses, so no graph, but it basically doubled the loss.

With so few of my SnG stats in Sharkscope (I figure I should have at least 1500 logged), this decline is almost certain to turn around. But that didn’t make the hurt feel any better.

Other than falling asleep on the first four SnGs, I wouldn’t have played any of the games differently and maintain I was just unlucky. But does that mean I was lucky the first 19 days of the year?

I took most of Sunday off and walked through pouring snow to catch the end of the Bears game, had a good sandwich with pineapple tuna and kettle chips, saw a terrific movie (Children of Men), and topped off the evening with using the rest of my Starbucks gift card on a venti chai tea latte with soy and a big chocolate chip cookie.

So now I’m left with a bruised three figures in Full Tilt, having to rebuild again.

I’ll stick with them until they offer the next bonus, which I’m guessing will be offered in conjunction with a new proprietary deposit method. Which I’ll bonus whore to the exact dollar and then move somewhere else. Just to prove a point that they shouldn’t screw with their loyal players (see previous post).

In the meantime, I plan to play 300 SnGs before the end of next month, all in the $22, $33, and $55 range. My ROI is best in SnGs and I’ll try not to stray into no-limit ring territory, though will take the occasional crack at a $24 multi. The wisdom of change100 states “every diet needs a little chocolate,” and I’ve been treating multis like condiments.

The added consolation is that if events should turn for the worse and I lose my remaining three figures, I won’t have to worry about whether I’ll ever see the money again.

This entry was posted on Monday, January 29th, 2007 at 1:00 am and is filed under Uncategorized.