Helluva start

I'm not sure why I'm still bothering with $5 SnG's. I've played in a grand total of six $10 SnG's with the following results: 2, 3, 2, 2, 3, 1. That's right, I'm six for six with the money finishes. The $5 SnG's I've sprinkled in have had subpar results: 2, 9, 6. And my UB-point SnG's have been worse: 4, 2, 10, 4.

I wonder if this means I can sense when I'm not on my game (tired, tilted, drunk), and I stay away from the $10 games. Or I get lucky at the right times.

My first $10 win happened today. I jumped out to a nice stack when I saw a flop with 4 others and hit a set of 4's against KQ with top pair, queens. KQ made a set on the river, which was no good against my full house of fours over queens.

I play tight for the first few levels, but by the time it got to 30/60 blinds, there were small stacks in the blinds when I was in the cutoff, and I used the sage wisdom of pirates - "Pillage first, then burn!" The button did throw a monkeywrench in once by calling, but went away on my flop bet. The table was giving me way too much respect. I won two different hands, on the flop and on the river, with 6-high. I love it. To be fair, the table enjoyed limping in, seeing a lot of flops, and min-betting at the flop, followed by a pot bet on the turn. I took away several pots from them on the flop by raising or checkraising 3-5x their min-bet. All the while thinking of StudioGlyphic's tagline: "Your opponent cannot fold if you do not bet or raise." I think that would make a great t-shirt slogan, or upper arm tattoo.

Oh, and I called a min-bet on the river, with ten-high. And won. The flop was A66, two clubs. Turn was a J, river was a 4. That we had checked the flop and turn probably possessed me to think that my hand might be good, but it was a large pot and I had chips to spare. The opponent, who had the button, showed 53.

I busted out the bubble guy when he reraised my pocket jacks with his pocket eights. We both hit a set on the flop, but all the money had gone in preflop. And to be fair, it was obvious I was doing more preflop raising than anyone else. It's four-handed people, sack up during bubble time!! Err, except when I have pocket jacks.

My three-handed play was a lot like Tito Ortiz's UFC fighting style: ground 'n pound. I stole, I bet the flop, and I raised. And I was lucky that my opponents didn't slowplay any monsters on me. I had Mister Passive almost down 3:2 in chips when it got heads-up.

He was an odd one. In more than 30 minutes of heads-up play, I think he raised preflop twice, once from his button. It was shocking odd to see him limp on his button just about every time. He folded more buttons than you'd expect, too.

I had the chips, I was the aggressor. I thought it was only a matter of time before I had him ground down to the felt. No need to rush things, right? All of a sudden, the tables turned.

I had KQ offsuit on the button, and raised. He called, and I hit top pair into a board of QT3. He min-bet, I raised 4x his bet, and he pushed. I called to see his pocket jacks. Just peachy, until that jack hit on the river. Ok, so he's got me outchipped 9k to 6k. I've been slowly strangling him with my aggression and chip lead. Let's see if it was the aggression or my chip lead that was more important.

Maybe his cards stunk right after that, but I climbed back even in four hands. I was expecting him to spring to life with the chip lead and start stomping on my guts. It was like time you heard some comment in the bar so insulting, you knew the meathead would defend his girl. Everybody expected his big meaty fist to meet an booze-addled face. But the blow never fell.

Finally, after I had started to build a small chip lead, he got tired of me shoving, and made his stand with pocket nines preflop. My Big Slick was good enough, but the flop was a disappointment: J, 4, 3. The 5 on the turn gave me a few more outs, and my big bold ace showed up on the river to finish Mister Passive off.
~
I humbly apologize. This post was made in two parts. The part above the tilde was made at around 7pm by a sober Mike. The part from here on out was made by a post-soccer Mike who drank pitcher after pitcher of the best 9% alc/volume porter Lampost Pizza has to offer. Never mind the fact that alcohol affects me like a teenager girl. Yes, I do want to take my shirt off and kiss you. No, not you. Her.

Random crap: I have crested the $600 mark in my UB account. Not counting the bonus dollars I've converted, I've doubled up my one and only UB deposit of $300. But I might do something stupid soon, like playing in a $10 rebuy Omaha tourney.

I'm not going to make the next WPBT Pokerstars tourney, but I hope the following one is on UB, Party, or FullTilt. At that point, I'd love to trade somebody some UB real money for some Party/FT real money, so I can participate. (I don't have Neteller/Firepay, and my "bank" sucks. I would do just as well with a coffee can under my bed.)

I'm scheduled to work Saturday night and Sunday night. This both sucks donkey ass, and rules. Saturday night sucks donkey ass. I am scheduled at 5pm, and the UNC Final Four hoops game starts about 30 minutes after that. Seriously, don't sit in my section. I'm going to ignore the fuck outta you, if I don't get somebody to pick up the shift for me. I'll work for free that night, just as long as I get to see most of the Tarheel beatdown of the Spartans.

And it rules. Earlier today, I played my way into a Sunday morning TEC tourney. The previous several TEC tourneys, I was unable to play, and let my friends Kevin and Kida stand in for me. After months and months, I'll finally be able to play my own way, because normally I work Sunday lunch shifts, precluding my participeation in any UB shenanigans.

Far too many of my family and friends think I'm going to deo some damage when I go back to Vegas in late April/early May to try what I did last year: the $50 single table satellites (that win you into the $225 supersatellites for the Main Event WSOP). I told two of my soccer buddies that story, about how I battled in WSOP satellites last year, when I had just learned Texas Hold'em four months before. About how I bluffed my way into the money with J8-clubs, and how I got trounced against pocket aces and kings in the rebuy phase of the $225 tourney, which I did not survive.

The boozie not telling me to enjoy my frosty new channlt. PBS, until he spiked them on a the turn i