Maudie at PokerWorks

Remember when you used to admonish your table mates about their bad play after cracking your aces with Q-7 off suit?

Remember how you used to steam when, hand after hand, those donkeys would just cold-call every one of your perfectly calculated odds killing bets, chasing their draws only to be rewarded with the pot after rivering their one-outers?

Remember how you used to wish that Mr. Poker Expert in the 3-seat would just shut up!

Seems like it was just yesterday, huh? Oh… it was just yesterday? Hmm..

Well, metaphorically speaking, or maybe as it relates to time and the age of the universe, for me it was just yesterday, but I seemed to have turned a corner on this poker path that has that particular behavior becoming more a memory of what once was and less an example of what still is.

I first noticed it a couple of weeks ago when I was “schooled” by a rather verbose table captain. He’d bluffed me off the best hand and wasn’t shy about letting the rest of the table know “that’s how you play out of position with the worst hand.” He kept talking and instructing us and I took it all in.

Instead of being annoyed by his banter, I became fascinated by it. He was telling us all exactly how he played and, oh yes, I expoited that knowledge to the best of my ability.

I’ve been making weekly treks to my local casino for several weeks now. Friday nights are entertainment night and I’ve found that a packed casino means lots of people with money in their pockets I’m more than willing to relieve them of. I daresay, it’s been rather lucrative.

This past Friday, with Willie Nelson singing for his supper in the theatre, I was seated at table 20 in the poker room two seats away from my friend Mr. Poker Expert and, yes, he was in full lecture mode.

I kept quiet and took in everything he had to say along with about $140 of his chips. He was dumbfounded to see that my fives full of twos beat his rivered twos full of queens. Yes, our expert had limped in with Q-2 off suit - obviously a power hand I ought to consider adding to my repertoire, but sadly, failed him for this particular hand.

He rebought and later, when the seat between us had been vacated, he moved over next to me. “I’m Maverick,” he said extending his hand. I shook it and told him my name. He continued to talk about that hand which was obviously niggling away at him. I think he was just a little bothered he got out-played by a girl - well, rather, outplayed by a woman old enough to be his mother.

Another clue to my transformation as a poker player came when I was nearly stacked by an opponent who cracked my pocket kings when he rivered his Ace. He’d called my pre-flop raise with A-5 not having paid attention to our table captain about the negative EV of such a move.

I just smiled and said, “oh, well, that’s why there’s rebuys.” And I kept smiling. Smiling because I want him to play like that every time. Smiling because I want my friend Maverick, and all those like him, to keep talking. Smiling because they’re gonna keep me smiling while I add their chips to my stack - which I did over the course of the rest of the evening.

So, have I really turned a corner? Am I really maturing as a player? Truth be told, I’m not sure. You see, over the last few weeks I’ve experienced the longest stretch of winning since beginning this journey over three years ago. That’s surely contributing to my newly discovered sense of calm.

The real test will come when the worm turns and the streak is over. And we all know that worm will turn, don’t we?

A little post-script: when I stood up to leave the table, my new-found friend said “you played good.” I smiled and said “Thank you.” And thankful I was as I took my full rack of reds to the window to cash out.

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 1st, 2007 at 10:41 pm and is filed under Uncategorized.