More disappointment

A friend emailed me after my last blog, stating sympathetically that he believes in luck and that I just suffer from bad luck. He knows about various ventures of mine that have failed for no explicable reason. Companies that failed to get funding, for example, while almost identical companies got lots of funding. Screenplays that win awards but don’t get produced. Novels that win awards but can’t get a publisher. Blogs that people tell me they love but won’t pay $10 a month to subscribe. Novelty items that sell out at the SFO airport but are not reordered. Did you know that I was programming computers around the same time as Bill Gates, and that I also wrote an operating system? The list goes on. In college, my friends called these “Bob Stories,” though most of those unlucky moments related to dating.

Most people consider me very successful. And I am by most measures. My motto has become, “I work ten times as hard to be twice as successful.”

I’m just really disappointed about today’s poker. I entered the Summer Celebration tournament. I got KJ, raised, and got one caller. The board ran out K55... 8... 2. On each round, I bet big and the other player called. On the river I bet big again and he hesitated for a while. I thought it unlikely he had AA, KK, or AK because he would have raised me pre-flop, and his hesitation confirmed this. I was right, but not right enough. He finally called and showed KQ to barely beat me. I took it in stride, even with my stack destroyed and busting out shortly after that.

I reentered and busted out shortly afterwards. My stack was already short when I got pocket 8s. I raised. A big stack reraised. I sighed and shoved. He called with AK. It was a race, but I had a head start... until he flopped a K and I was out again. I could handle these losses. These weren’t exactly bad beats, just disappointing.

Then I entered an afternoon tournament—the same one I had cashed in the night before. The players at my table weren’t very good, plus I started out getting great hands, continuing for about 3 hours until they broke our table. I had been the chip leader at the first table but average stack at the second table. To my left was a big guy from Texas, I think, wearing a cowboy hat and talking. A lot. About himself. And what a great player he was. The people around him nodded and smiled, taking it in, but it grated on me.

His stack was about three times mine. In the first hand, I got pocket 8s and raised. He reraised, and I called. The flop was all face cards (jacks, queens, and/or kings) and when he bet, I folded. He swept in the chips saying something about how he can always tell what the other player has.

A few hands later, I got A♠K♠. I raised a lot and he called. The flop was 3♠5♠10♦. I bet and he raised a lot. I doubted that he really hit that board, especially if he had simply called my big pre-flop raise. I had two over cards and the lock flush draw, so I called his bet. The next card was 4♦. I checked and he did a giant bet. I folded. He flipped over a 10 and said the other card was an A. I believed him. He said something about knowing that he was ahead with his A10. Did he think it was skill that he happened to hit a 10? I told him he was behind pre-flop and he said something like, “But I’m always ahead at the end.”

Then I saw him make a few crazy bets that he also won, but so risky that I’m sure his chips wouldn’t last to the end of the tournament. In a three-way pot, one player shoved when the board had run out K6894. Admittedly, it was a bad shove. What kind of pre-flop hand would make this “dry” board a shovable hand? Was he representing 57? Maybe a set? But given the rounds of betting, it didn’t really make sense. A second player whose stack was larger than the cowboy’s, called the bet. The cowboy shoved, and the second player folded. The cowboy showed A8 for a lousy middle pair. The first player showed AJ. The cowboy scooped up his chips, exclaiming, “I knew he was bluffing. I just had to get you out of the way,” as he pointed to player who had folded. “You had a king, didn’t you?” The player, obviously not happy, nodded. “I just knew it,” said the cowboy. “I can always tell. He was bluffing. You had a king. I had to get you out of the way, and I’d take it all down!”

The risk in such a play was so high that it wasn’t worth the risk. If the bluffer had a 9, a K, or any pair higher than an 8, he would have won. If the second player had called rather than folded, he would have won. The cowboy had risked most of his giant stack.

Shortly after that, my stack being very short at just under 10 big blinds, I gave a sigh of relief when I got pocket As. In my head that is; I didn’t make a noise or change my expression. Everyone folded around to me. I decided to raise from $3K (1BB) to $10K (3BB) on the button, making it look like I was trying to steal the blinds. I knew that the cowboy, fresh off his big win, would call or raise. I would let him believe that he was in control. I would disguise my aces. Whether he raised then or not, the next time I bet, it would be everything. The flop was 10 JQ. I shoved. He then called. When I showed my aces, he said, “you can throw those away,” as he showed 89 for a straight. A king would give me a bigger straight, but it didn’t come. I really felt angry and sick at the same time. I got up and, uncharacteristically, said very quietly, “unfuckingbelieveable” as I left. Here is a guy who made every wrong decision and yet won every time. And he was so full of himself that he thought himself a genius. My play went exactly as planned except for him flopping a hand that made mine all but dead. How could I be that unlucky? Almost the same exact thing happened the night before. I wouldn’t change a thing that I did either time, which I consider to be perfect play.

I was angry at fate or something as I walked out of the casino, into my car, and the whole drive home. As you can tell, I’m angry still. I’m angry at playing perfectly and losing to people who play badly and get lucky. I’ll be playing in the Main Event starting tomorrow. The challenge will be to keep calm and still trust the math, my player reads, and my instincts. And hope that whoever is in charge of my luck, at the very least, gives me a good distribution of cards and no lucky idiots to contend with.

A shout out to two friends who did well today. Mike Steigman made Day 2 of a big tournament at the South Point Casino, cashing at #43 on Day 2. Alex Berenson finished on Day 2 of the WSOP $3,000 Freezeout at an amazing #37 out of 1,792 entries.

Bob Zeidman is a high-stakes recreational poker player. He created Good Beat Poker, a free online poker site using patented technology for audio and video—see and hear the other players at the table if you choose.