Catharsis

Well, here's the post I made to the shades forum that encouraged me to create this blog. As is explained down below, I'm focusing on the journey, so here's my permanent record of the journey. We'll see how often this gets updated.


So, after going over some things after my recent bad run and some other recent (very good) performances that went fruitless, I’ve looked at a few things.

By and large, the results were due to simple cases of bad luck. There was some poor play on my part that cost me a significant amount of money, don’t get me wrong, but, on the whole, a reasonable break of the cards would have left me about even.

I did notice a problem in my game. I began to get too tentative at the cash table, as a result of a few of the beats I took. Once this leak was observed, it was fixed, and the results improved (until running into some of the other beats.) I wouldn’t bet my hands, worrying about monsters in the closet and, on one notable occasion, woke up when I finally fell behind.

I then looked at my play in 3 tournaments this weekend, the Saturday evening Rd 2 on Bugsy’s, the Bugsy’s Shootout on Sunday, and the WSOP satellite on Full Tilt on Sunday. I analyzed my play.

I played very well in the Rd 2. I went through a dead period, and got lucky in one spot when I had 5 BB left on the big. After an EP shortstack AI for about my total, holding A3s, I decided that the time was right to give one of us a chance. He had me kicked, but I was fortunate and flopped a 3. I then went on an extraordinary rush, going from 4K to 40K in about 10 minutes. I was able to keep adding to this stack by playing aggressive, intelligent poker, avoiding the other big stacks, until I went out with KK to AQs who called an overpot reraise and then my AI on the Qxx flop by catching runner runner for the flush.

In the shootout, I had another extended dry period. I was behind several limpy players, so my FTA opportunities were limited. I did let this impact me on one key hand when I did not take the opportunity to get a good value bet in, worried about the limpy players holding’s, when I should have realized by their betting patterns that they did not hold it. The impact of this failure to glean chips became manifest when my inability to pick up hands (and one move that did not work) hindered me, to the point that when I flopped 2nd pair in a battle of the blinds, I moved in behind a bet, only to find the player, who’d bluffed quite a bit, actually had the hand this time.

In the Satellite, I played extraordinary poker. I don’t think I can describe how I played any differently. It was simply top class. In the first 150 hands I played, I went to not a showdown (which is a mixed bag). In the first 150 hands I played, I put all of my chips at risk on zero of them. I took advantage of several weaker players who I had an excellent read on during the tournament, picking up chips at a consistent rate, and, throughout the tournament, increasing my chip stack both absolutely and in terms of rank in the tournament (that is, early on I was in the bottom third of chip stacks, but I steadily moved to above average). I played aggressive, but well considered poker. I made two key laydowns, choosing to not get involved in a sizable pot in which I did not have control. The hand on which I both put all of my chips at risk and got into a showdown was the last one, I had KK and called AI behind AJ and TT going to war, with a chance to become tournament chipleader. My hand ultimately was third best.

After examining my week as a whole, and particularly these three tournaments, I have come to some conclusions. My level of play depends upon my involvement in the game. This is undeniable and true for all players. I play poorly when I am disinterested in a game (most PSO tournaments, for example.) I play quite well when I am interested in a game (a $10 buyin tournament, perhaps.) I play simply exceptional poker when I become emotionally involved in an event (buyins of $100+, generally. I’ve gotten involved for less, though.)

The problem

I want to play my best at all times. I’m a very proud player, and playing at a top level is important to me. However, I have just identified that I don’t play my best unless I am emotionally involved. And the trouble is, when I get emotionally involved, and I lose, it hurts. Badly. As stated above, I’m very proud. And when I’m emotionally involved, I think I subconsciously put that pride on the line. Well, and I hate losing. Last night, after going out in the WSOP satellite, I was actively angry, as my brother or Dave could tell you as they were talking to me during the tournament.

There it is. To play my best, I must be emotionally involved. And I can’t be emotionally involved all the time, because the pain may outweigh the rewards.

Solutions?

1) Resign myself to this fact. I’m not keen on this.

2) Become emotionally involved regardless of the stakes. Not terribly keen on this, either

3) Raise the level of my “interested” play. This is difficult to do.

And yet, what I believe I will embark on, shortly, is a quest to combine the 3 solutions.

I am going to attempt a run whereby I force myself to become emotionally involved in every game I play – be it PSO, be it a satellite, be it a small stakes tournament or be it a large tournament. I want to see that if this happens, if I can reduce the pain to a level where it stings, but it doesn’t make me angry. I want to hurt after these, as I don’t ever want to be happy when I lose. But I want to make it so that it’s not significantly greater than the pain I feel when I lose when “interested.” And then having my play at an the top level be there the whole time.

We’ll see if it will work. Wish me luck in my quest. It won’t be easy but, if successful, will be the greatest thing I’ll have done to improve my poker play.