Venetian $8-$16, A Play in Three Acts

In honor of the legendary "real" Dawn Summers I'm going to live-blog a session from the Venetian's $8-$16 limit hold'em game. And when I say live-blog what I really mean is that I played the session last night and will be writing about it after the fact to make myself seem more spontaneously witty. Pretty sure that's what Hemmingway did.

6:30pm -- Here we are on Table 40, right by the poker room front desk. I like being so close to the rail. This way, when I play horribly, everyone will be able to witness it without having to crane their necks.

Last week I was pondering what I've been doing less than optimally over the course of the last month. CK suggested I should "try playing a lower-variance style for a while". It is a brilliantly simple suggestion that once again proves: (1) how much smarter she is than me; and (2) how much better my life is with her in it. As I'm unracking my blue $4 chips I remind myself to remind myself in about an hour that I'm supposed to be playing lower-variance poker.

6:31pm -- No posting at the Venetian. My first hand in the cutoff immediately puts my lower-variance resolution to the test. I play like the true tight-weakie that lurks in my soul and fold 55 after nobody enters the pot ahead of me. It's been said that limit hold'em starts off as a battle for the blinds but if the table conditions are right I shouldn't need to worry about battling for the blinds. Also, the ink's not really dry on that lower-variance resolution yet and I try to wait at least a few days (hands?) before breaking resolutions.

[Results-oriented analysis: the small blind had 66 and flopped a set. Presto was no goot!]

6:41pm -- Look at me! I've folded for a whole orbit now. I don't think anyone else has noticed.

6:42pm -- It's my cutoff again. This time I have QsJs. I can't fold a decent-ish hand from the cutoff in an unopened pot two orbits in a row, can I?

6:42:15pm -- No I can't. I open for a raise and get two callers. An ace and two spades flop followed by a turn king... but I don't get there. A tight player in the small blind bets the river dark. I'm willing to give him credit for another set because I have never seen him bet dark before and he really is that tight.

There are times when I might piss and moan about missing double-digit draws but not today. I am a Buddhist monk. Also we're only ten minutes into the day. There's still plenty of time for my inner rage-aholic to assert itself. After all, F-Train tilt makes flowers grow and who doesn't like flowers?

[CK can refrain from responding. That was a rhetorical question.]

6:50pm -- My opponents must be great. Their play is at such a genius level that I am completely confused by it. A guy who looks and drinks like he fought in the Greatest War opens from under-the-gun and is called by the button. I also call from the big blind with 9d8d, then make my first mistake of the night by not betting a 6-7-9r flop. Instead I get caught up in Fancy Play Syndrome and try to check-raise the inevitable continuation bet. It turns out that the inevitable continuation bet is not so inevitable. The flop checks through to an ugly Ac on the turn. I can't bet this card -- it's too likely to have hit the pre-flop raiser. I check and both opponents also check again(?). I finally pull the trigger when the river falls Ts to make my straight. They both fold. Way to extract value!

6:55pm -- Seems my commitment to a lower-variance style lasted all of 25 minutes. When action folds to my cutoff, I raise Ts9s. Everyone folds, saving me from myself.

6:59pm -- A co-worker from the WSOP wanders by the table. He's on a break from the final table of the Venetian noon tournament and watches me limp JsTs from MP after two limpers. I have position for a four-way flop of Th-8d-4d.

The big blind is an old guy with thin gray hair and rheumy eyes. He plays all of the Vegas mid-limit games, usually dressed in a light white jacket. Although he almost never talks at the table I know his name is Bill and I'm willing to bet he's unmarried. Bill gives me a shudder every time I see him because it's not hard for me to imagine myself turning into Bill in thirty years -- quiet, miserable, alone and grinding away at pointless mid-limit hold'em games.

I've never been able to tell if Bill is a long-term winner. He has more heart than many of the passive players who populate these limits but he also tends to overplay one pair and to make some patently hopeless bets and calls (pot, kettle). When he leads this flop it can mean just about anything -- pair, draw, air.

A guy in his late 30s is on my right. He calls after one player folds. He has been playing *very* tight poker while chasing the $25 bonus comp that the Venetian is offering in an effort to attract first-time mid-limit players (you have to play one hour to get the comp). His call puts my jack-ten in a weird spot but, with position, I raise. They both call.

The turn's a blank, the 3h. Action checks to me. I bet, they both call. We all check the 2h river. I announce "pair of tens", prompting Bill to quickly turn over Td9h as if it might be any good. Sorry Bill. I chop the pot with the guy on my right, who also has jack-ten. Anthony, my co-worker from the WSOP, shakes his head and goes back to his final table.

"You didn't think your nine was any good, did you?" I ask Bill. True to form, he smiles without saying a word in reply.

Seriously. Thirty years. I make my second resolution of the night.

7:08pm -- Bill gets his revenge. I raise AcQc from middle position and get 3 callers, including Bill from the big blind. We all check all the way down after the flop comes K-K-Jr. Bill takes the pot with J-T. You might think this is weak play from me -- and it is! -- but I'm back in the lower-variance boat and saw no need to bet a flop that likely hit someone else. They're calling with their jacks all the way whether I bet or not. In fact Bill probably would have check-raised either the flop or the turn. I'd rather just take my free looks.

7:14pm -- I have the button. I also have pocket aces. Good for me, bad for my one opponent who flops top pair. Bad for me, good for my one opponent that she only has $4 behind after calling my pre-flop raise. She would be the first of three players at this table throughout the course of the night who would (functionally) be all-in pre-flop and would reload after the hand. This is the caliber of player I've been struggling to beat recently.

7:26pm -- Almost an hour in now. The table has been weak and passive. There are two other locals in the game but everyone else is unknown to me -- a welcome change from what the $10-$20 game at Mirage has become. When it goes. Which is less and less frequently. Alas, poor $10-$20, I knew it, readers, a game of infinite profit potential, of most awful play.

I open KcQd from middle position. Flops at this table are ranging from three- to five-handed so no surprise that the button and the big blind call. The button is a younger Asian guy but he's no Crazian. In fact he's the complete opposite of Crazian (which probably makes him me). He's the only one to call my bet on the Qs-Tc-8c flop. It's not a good sign, even less so when the turn is a third club, 7c. I check-call with my own club draw.

The "real" Dawn Summers will tell you that clubs are shiftless and lazy and never get there no matter what CK tries to make people believe. CK would say that clubs already got there on the turn and what more can I expect at this point? That's my way of explaining that the fourth club does not hit the river. Buuuuuuut, I make top two pair with the Kh. This is one of those situations where I probably have to bet and fold to a raise. Bet, because I'm trying to extract value from hands like QT, T8, 87, and all one-pair hands that might check behind if I check. Fold to a raise because Mr. Anti-Crazian isn't raising with less than a flush here. He looks confused by my bet but calls anyway. His AdQd is no good. Variance is on my side for a change. Nice!

7:30pm -- One hour in, only $77 to the good and needing to cut short this post. To be continued...