MY FIRST TASTE - PART III

Day 2 soon arrived and after a cold night in my room, which lacked soap, shower gel, and shampoo (ooh, I ask too much), I met up with Matt Tyler in the lobby to run through some of the updates. I must thank everyone for all the support you gave me throughout the night. Your good luck messages were all received loud and clear and I can’t thank you enough, they really do make a difference. I was definitely spurred on by the knowledge that I was being backed by the P.R.O. massive and it was clear that the famous bugle was playing its merry tune.

After nibbling (quite literally) at a ham sandwich, I was soon back at the felt. Sunday was very very intense indeed, especially at our table which showcased some of the rockiest rocks around, many with rock degrees in rockery at Rocksville University… unfortunately, I graduated with top honours.

I was very wary of making any moves. The three guys to my left were all shortstacked and keen for an opportunity to move all-in, so I knew I couldn’t nick their blinds without a hand, not nice at all! Also, with it being a tight table, reraising a raiser was a risky business indeed. I don’t think I recall one player turning over rags. I had chips, but not the hands, and the opportunities I usually find to make my moves, just weren’t appearing. I think the only hand I was dealt throughout the whole of Day 2 was pocket tens. I saw aces, kings, queens, etc being shown by other players, but the poker gods just weren’t shoving anything my way. I was soooooooo frustrated it was unbelievable. My prayer mat has been flung out of the window and I no longer worship the poker gods, what a waste of time those fellas are!

I think my lack of experience shone through in the end. Okay, I wasn’t getting any cards, but I wasn’t being dealt too much the day before either. I should have been confident enough to duck and dive a lot more. I did try a nick, from various positions, but almost each time I was caught with my hands in the cookie jar. My chips dribbled away and I felt helpless. I could make a ridiculous move with rags, but was it worth risking 10k when I could wait for a hand and probably receive a double up. Patience, patience, patience I kept telling myself… but the hands never came.

In hindsight, I would have called a lot more preflop raises and then used my judgement, which I hope is relatively sound, to detect strength or weakness on the flop. Personally, I’d rather have looser players on my table, it would suit me much better. JP, Vinson, Grundy (pictured right), bring them on, at least you can make plays against these guys safe in the knowledge that they won’t have a hand every time. In fact, I was gutted when Patten left my table, he was just what the doctor ordered, but with him gone, and all the loose players on the other table, prising chips off these guys was going to be a hell of a mission.

Just before the break, I dropped from 36k to 24k. Everyone folded round to the blinds, I raised with Q-J suited from the big, and the small blind called. The flop came A-J-A. We both checked. He bet 3.5k on the turn and I quickly called thinking that if he held an ace then he would have raised preflop (Doh, good thinking Homer). The river was another rag and he bet around 7k. I dwelt for ages before making a terrible call and seeing A-7.

Bah. What was I thinking? He was a tight player and probably rarely bluffs. I’d seen him overbet a pot earlier against Matt when I was almost positive he had the goods and was trying to make it look like he was buying the pot. This time, when he bet less than the pot, I thought back to that hand and put him on a steal, which is why I called. I just didn’t think he had the ace. I made a boo boo, and I can admit that, but at least I was brave enough to go with what I thought instead of wimping out.

At this point, I was desperate for a break to release some steam from my ears, run outside and scream at the top of my voice. Luckily, we had a scheduled 15 minutes rest just in time, although I never did go through with the screaming bit…