More Trickery

25 APR 06

In my ever expanding bag of tricks, I came up with this one on the spot.

I’m in the Big Blind. There are 4 callers and I get to see a free flop with 96 off-suit. The flop comes 345, giving me the open ender. One early bet gets called by all five of us. The turn is a nine giving me top pair. There is one bet and one raise. I reraise and 4 of us see the river, which is a 2. Sweet.

But wait, there’s more.

Everyone checks to me. Huh? Okay – watch this…

I flip over my 9 and say, “I’ve got top pair. I’m betting it.”

The first Ace-holder raises. The second Ace-holder calls. I reraise, and at this point, the caller knows he’s beat, but the first ace-holder hasn’t got the memo.

He reraises.

Moron ace-holder #2 calls again and I cap it.

Devin (the dealer) gives me a look and says, “Turn over your 6.” I’m happy to comply. The expression on my two new best friends was priceless.

Reflections on 100 Posts

20 APR 06

One hundred posts. Sheesh!! Recently, Pauly took a break after 1176 posts. I can’t imagine another thousand of these, but I sure am having fun with it for now.

First off – thanks for stopping by my little corner of the blogsphere. For whatever reason, you decided to spend a little of your day visiting me, and I appreciate it. An Extra Thanks to my top referrers:

http://www.upforanything.net/poker/
http://www.whiskeytown.blogspot.com/
http://www.seattlejohn.blogspot.com/
http://www.thisisnotapokerblog.com/
http://iamhoff.blogspot.com/
http://nickleanddimes.blogspot.com/

To celebrate my 100th post, I decided to figure out how to use Sitemeter. Check this out:

Google searches that brought people to my blog:
“Nguyen interview with Scotty" – This search was from the google.co.hu site, which is from Hungary. I’ve also had visitors from Sweden, the UK and Finland.

“320 pound 7' 4" woman Holland” – this one is strangely legit. See here

“costa rican supermodel” – Yeah, baby!

“anatomical locations behind back of knee” – another legit search. See #46 here

“hunter silvastorm” – someone searched for author-extraordinaire Hunter and found me instead – sweet!

A Canadian searched for “flawless poker win every time” and came to my site.

And finally, my favorite (note – this entire thing was pasted into the search window)
“An Australian sheep farmer was puzzled at the disappearance of sheep on his farm. After a few weeks of sheep disappearing the farmer decided to put up an electric fence”

So, if you ever want to find out about Huge Dutch Women, Costa Rican Supermodels, Great Authors or Disappearing Sheep, look no further than your friendly neighborhood poker playing doctor. It’s what I live for.

One Last Shot

19 APR 06

My buddy Stefan decided to take one last crack at 10/20 before heading back to Texas. He’s glad he did.

I sat in first and started in with my usual shtick. It was funny, because Ryan was dealing again. Apparently, he’s been reading my blog because he was quoting several of my best lines back to me. I got a laugh out of it at first, but then I realized that other people at the table may have been listening. If they figured out what we were talking about, I may have been handicapped a little. Fortunately, either no one figured it out, or they didn’t care. I talked my way into a few pots and was up about $300 when Stefan finally got a seat.

Now, Stefan is a buddy of mine, but when he’s sitting across the felt he becomes a potential victim. Sure enough, I raised in position with J8 and he calls from the big blind. I hit my Jack on the flop (I think there was an overcard). He calls my flop and turn bets and when we get to the river, he checks to me. I bet and say, “Don’t call. I’ll show you,” and I hold my cards out towards him face down. He flips over his QJ and mucks. True to my word, I show him my inferior hand and drag the pot. If he just read my blog before he sat in, he might have made that call!!

Well, that was about the only hand he played badly last night. In the span of about 2 hours, he ran his $500 up to over $1200, and we both cashed out winners for the night. On the ride back to his hotel, he was floating on a cloud, but he asked me to critique his game. I gave him a few pointers (at several points he was calling into a multiway pot post-flop when he should have been raising or folding), but how do you offer pointers to someone that played nearly flawless poker?

I guess we can all benefit from a few pointers now and then. I know I can.

Talking the Talk

13 APR 06

I’ve talked myself into about $300 over the last 3 sessions, and I feel pretty darn good about it. John talked about it on this blog (referring to his buddy Aaron). The key is variance. Sometimes, when I’m acting strong, I have the worst hand. Other times it’s just the opposite. The key is to make sure people are paying attention, and to show down a couple of hands (be they winners or losers).

Here are a couple of my favorites:

“I’ll show you.”

It’s a 4/8 table and I raise with A 10 after one MP limper just calls. The flop is AA3. Limper checks and I check. The turn is a 6 and the limper bets. I raise and the limper just calls. The river is a Jack, and the limper bets.

I raise saying, “Don’t call, I’ll show you,” then I move my cards over towards her in preparation for showing her my flopped trips (after all, she just limped into this hand – I know she doesn’t have anything better than what I’m holding).

She folds her AK face up.

“This is my wheelhouse.”

It’s 10/20 and I raise in early position with 7 9 (I’m not justifying the move here. Just go with me). The button calls and we see a flop of 7 8 J. I bet and the button raises. I put him on a weak Jack, but he’s capable of making this move with the 9 for the open ender. I call. The turn is blank and I bet. He raises again, and now I put him on QJ or KJ. Maybe AJ. I have 6 outs (two 7’s and four 10’s), so I look at him and say, “This is my wheelhouse. Are you sure you want to bet here?” I see the look of doubt in his eyes, and I think I may be able to steal this pot if any scare card comes out. The river is a 7 and I check raise the river on him. As he’s calling my raise, he says, “Your 7 is good.”

Thanks, but I already knew that.

“You didn’t stay with A x of diamonds, did you?”

This one is more obvious. Experienced players will see this for what it is – calling out your made hand.

Again at 10/20, I complete the big blind into a multiway pot with A8 of diamonds. The flop pairs my 8 with two diamonds. I bet and get raised and called by three others. The turn puts a scary straight card on the board. I check and 3 of us see the river – 2 of diamonds. I’m first to act, and I bet out, saying the question above. My thought is that this may convince the table that I was slow playing my straight, but I’m nervous about the river card. It’s very confusing. The bet represents the flush but the talk represents the straight. Confused players will call out of curiosity. Both players called – one with the straight and one with 2 pair.

That’s why I love this game. The intangibles make it really interesting.

Schooled

10 APR 06

My buddy broke his 10/20 cherry yesterday at the Muckleshoot. It was cool to witness. I just wrote about my first experience at 10/20, and I’m guessing his experience is going to stay with him for a long time.

I watched him nearly double his $500 buy in with some solid play and a few good hands. There was one hand where he had KQ. He flopped his queen and turned his king, only to run into a set of queens. It happens, but he was still way up for the night.

I had to leave for dinner, so I didn’t witness the rest. About 2 hours later, I get a call.

“Dude. I raised under the gun with AK. The big blind is the only caller. The flop is 777…”

You know the rest of this story. Big blind had 7 2 off suit for the flopped quads, and, as they say, “tilt happened.”

He actually lost only part of his buy in for the night. As I reviewed a few key hands with him, I realized he made good decisions and didn’t play scared (which was my big problem when I started). He’s good enough to play at this level. We’ll see if he ever ventures back into the mid-level games.

Final thought: The Muckleshoot – where, if you dream it, your cards will come.

Happy Birthday

6 APR 06

Last night, I gave myself exactly what I wanted for my birthday. Against all odds, I eliminated #28 FAR earlier than I expected.

So this is what it feels like to be a winning poker player.

Playing Your Rush

3 APR 06

First off – I wrote this first thing on Friday. I was going to post it Saturday, but we did the “Become Your Favorite Blogger” thing for April 1st. My favorite was Joe Speaker’s take on Factgirl, but Drizz did a number on Bobby Bracelet. Both are worth a read. Enjoy.

So, I have fans. Well, technically, I have readers I didn’t know about, but I choose to call them fans because it makes me feel kind of famous. And, you know my ego isn’t big enough already…

After my write-up about Colette, I finally ran into her. She was extremely gracious. She really could have made me feel like a creep, but instead she seemed genuinely flattered, and I was touched. She’s still hasn’t sent me any photos from Costa Rica, but those seem secondary now. If I get them, great. If not, well that’s cool, too.

I was confused when she told me she read my blog, because I never told her the name of the website. It turns out she found me from a link on another Muckleshoot blog. Another dealer at the ‘shoot (Ryan), read John’s blog and found me, then told Colette.

Now we come full circle. Ryan was seated one to my right in the very first game of 10/20 I ever played. I was scared money, and he knew it. I bought in for $200, and played very weak-tight. I finally looked down at AK of spades, but Ryan raised it to $20. I just called and the flop came K 10 6. Ryan bet, and I remember being scared straight.

I had been watching Ryan and another regular (Peter) go at it for about an hour. Both were clearly comfortable with this level of play and I was jealous. I wanted to be like that, but at the time, I didn’t know how. They were raising and reraising their turn and river bets and winning with hands like 45 and J9. Who the hell plays 45 in 10/20? Don’t these idiots know that’s a lot of money???

I was getting ready to call Ryan’s bet when, out of the blue, Ryan says, “Don’t bet, I hit my set.”

Huh?

I had not seen this play from him. Why would he tell me this? I was getting ready to call, when he said, “Look, I’ll show you one card.” He flips over a 6. I’m frozen. I really don’t know how to react. I’m looking back and forth between Ryan, the exposed 6 and my chips. Is he allowed to show his card? Should I bet anyway? What’s that warm sensation running down my leg?

Then he flips over the other 6. He turns to me with a big smile and says, “I don’t want to take your money.” He points to Peter and says, “I want to take his money.” Both Peter and Ryan start laughing. I nervously laugh along, but I realize I’m WAY outgunned at this table. I lost the rest of that buy in and limped away with my tail between my legs.

I think about that hand and that session often. Ryan’s carefree attitude has been something I’ve tried to emulate every time I sit in the 10/20 game. It’s only recently that it’s started to work. I don’t think I’d ever show a fish (and I was a fish back then) my flopped set, but I understand why he did it. I remember thinking, the only reason he did that is because he wants me to have fun so I’ll come back in the future and lose even more money to him. The actual effect was to further my resolve to be comfortable at this level, so that I could go back and beat his brains out at the table. I (and my bankroll) owe him some thanks.

So ends what I wrote on Friday. But wait, there's more...

Now, fast forward to Saturday. Ryan was dealing my 10/20 game! I relayed the above story to him and we had a good laugh about it. He seemed shocked that he exposed his hand like that. I actually expected him to remember the hand, but it was clearly a much bigger deal to me than to him.

To complete the circle, I had my best rush of cards ever. At one point, I won 5 hands in a row (including a kill pot where I raised preflop with 23 and caught a wheel on the river). In those 10 minutes, I won over $600.

And I owe it all to Ryan. Well, I owe a bunch to Lee Jones and Doyle Brunson and David Sklansky, but Ryan deserves at least some of the credit.

Guest Blog

1 APR 06

Editors Note: Occasionally, I allow other’s to guest post on this here blog. Today’s guest is extra special because we both got something out of it. As a physician, I have a unique perspective into poker, but I rarely need my doctoring skills. Today’s guest needed a favor, and I was happy to comply.

Live blogging the drunk… day at the hospital

6:30 am – What the hell kind of time of day is this? Who the fuck gets up at 4:30 in the morning to go to work? I need a shot of SoCo. If it wasn’t for the free shit, this whole guest-post experiment would have to wait until a more reasonable hour – like noon.

6:35 am – Cute nurses. Hmmm… I may have to hold judgment for a bit.

6:40 am – Cute nurses asking me to undress. Even better.

6:45 am – The CAT scan table is kind of cold, but I’m kinda digging the whole “let’s play doctor thing.” Hey, what’s that tube for?

6:46 am – “You’re gonna put that WHERE?”

6:47 am – Unnnnh. Nnnnnhhhhh. Ggggghhhfffff…. Did you put that barium in the fucking fridge before you squirted it up my ass?! You people are sick!

6:50 am – Whirring noises. Table moving. My tongue is fuzzy, and not in a good way. Who the fuck is laughing out there? I’d swear I just heard someone say the ass-tube wasn’t necessary for this exam. You’d better be fucking kidding!

7:20 am – I just spent the last 20 minutes shitting out white satin paint, and I know I’m not even close to done. I’m walking like I’ve been riding a horse and I can hear a faint squish. Ooohh, that’s not good.

7:50 am – So, my liver looks good. Well, technically, the good Dr. Chako says it looks like shit, but it’s still there, so I’m calling it a wash. Now I’m headed back to Chez Chako for a beer and a nap. Does anyone have some Excedrin?

Squish. Squish. Squish.

And so, the guest post ends almost as soon as it began. Thanks to Al for the experience. I’d don’t think Chez Chako will ever be the same. And, thanks again to Drizz for the cool idea.

Crossing the Felt

31 MAR 06

Mario is yet another great dealer at the Muckleshoot. In fact he was dealing two days ago when I was sitting in with Bret Boone, and yesterday he told some stories about a few funny things that happened after I left. It sounds like I should have stuck around.

Mario was dealing to me again last night. He’s good enough at what he does to be able to have a conversation while dealing. This is no small task, as I’ve seen many dealers screw up when talking. They’ll burn a card too soon, or miss a raise. Mario was flawless.

But then Mario was done with his shift and took a spot right next to me.

It’s interesting. When the dealer is sitting in the big chair, most of the time they are a non-entity. Sitting across the felt, they become another potential victim. Dealers are interesting players. They rarely make technical errors, and they have pretty good reads on most of the players – especially the regulars. Mario was just dealing this table and the crowd had not changed, so he had pretty good intel prior to sitting down. My guess is that he thought he got the best seat (one to my left) because I had been working on my maniac persona. My bankroll had suffered and I was stuck close to $300 before he sat down.

Then I went on a rush.

Mario was my victim several times, but I shared the wealth (actually, I took the wealth) from just about everyone at the table.

The best hand of the night was when I was sitting in the big blind with K5. I called one raise in a multiway pot and saw a flop of KK5. This pot alone was over $200 when all was said and done – not bad for 4/8.

Well, I think Mario was steaming a little bit. On the hand just before this, Mario limped in UTG and I completed from the small blind with 2 5. I flopped a flush draw and gut shot. The turn brought a 3 to complete my straight and I check-raised him saying, “Ah HA! Now I got you.” He called the check-raise, and I said, “You didn’t stick around here with a 2, did you?”

Based on his reaction when I dragged the pot, I think he flopped a set. I know he didn’t like my witty banter. I think it was his steaming that led to this – when I was raising the river on the K5 hand, Mario announced to the table that my hands were shaking. Now, I’ve blogged about this before. In fact, I mentioned it in my very first post. My shaking hands have gotten much better, but they still sometimes give away the strength of my hand. Announcing it to the table was uncool, but fortunately, 4/8 players will call you anyway.

I consider the matter finished, mostly because I won for the night. I wonder if I’d feel differently if I was stuck.

F___in’ Mariners

30 MAR 06

So, last night there is a palpable buzz at the Muckleshoot. I’m not entirely certain what’s causing it until Tiffany comes up and says, “Dr. Chako - you are sitting in the big game.”

Huh? I thought you just called me for 4/8.

I did, she replies, but you are sitting at the table with Bret Boone and Mike Blowers.

Sweet. Idiots with cash.

Someone at the table actually asked them, “What are you guys doing in the white chip game?” I’ll tell you the answer. They came to crush my win streak with the stupidest suckout fest you ever saw. And I don’t mean that sarcastically. They didn’t care about playing good poker. In fact, they sucked. They came for the thrill of winning with 2 5 off-suit in a multiway hand that was CAPPED pre-flop.

Unfortunately, my pocket Aces, 10’s and Kings fell victim to this nonsense.

When I calm down, I’ll tell you more about why I hate baseball (and it has nothing to do with last night).

Final thought: Just two more days until “Become Your Favorite Blogger” Day.

Editors Note: After exhaustive research (okay, I went to ESPN.com), I found out that Boone has been traded to the Mets and is taking a pay cut from $9 million to $1 million, and Blowers last played in 1999. I am working up the ability to feel sorry for them. I'll let you know if anything comes of it.

Quickie Post

29 MAR 06

March has been my best month ever. I’ve started keeping better records. I know I can’t sustain this win rate, but it sure feels good to look down at an average of 21 Big Blinds per hour for my last 5 sessions. I hope I remember what this feels like when the walls come a-tumblin’ down.

Still no goodies to share from Costa Rica. Perhaps the lovely Colette has been taken away again. Stay tuned.

Reminder – April 1st is “Become Your Favorite Blogger” Day. Thanks to Drizz for the idea. My experience should be interesting.

Beneath Me?

27 MAR 06

So, I’m reading a blog from Daniel Negreanu where he’s talking about his $3000/6000 game breaking up. He wanted to play some more, but the only available game was $400/800. He said that he didn’t think he’d be able to play his best because the limits were so much lower than he’s used to. He wouldn’t be able to stay focused. I start laughing. $400/800 is below him and he couldn’t concentrate or play his best? I told my wife, “If you ever hear me say that $400/800 is beneath me, slap me around a bit, okay?”

She agreed a little too quickly…

Anyway, last night I played another short session. While waiting for the $10/20 game to open up, I sat in the $6/12. For my fans (all three of you), you know how much I hate $6/12, but there I was. I won’t bore you with the hand history – suffice it to say that I played much too loose. I was on a freeroll because I won quite a bit this week. My hand selection was horrible. Here is an example of one hand with an odd outcome:

I’m dealt 3 4 of hearts and called a raise in a multiway pot.

Flop gives me a gut shot and 4 to the flush, I call one bet from the early raiser.

Turn is nothing, but I call yet again.

River pairs my four. Yuck. Something told me I had the best hand, so I bet. Early raiser raises, and I call.

He shows his AK and I drag a big pot with a pair of 4’s with a 3 kicker. The table goes nuts.

The real question is, what was I doing calling preflop? That’s almost justifiable, but how does that explain the flop and turn call? Trust me, I did not have the pot odds at the turn. Even if I got there, it was likely someone had a better flush, which reduced my outs.

The river call makes sense, but still. All I can figure is that I was playing too loose because $6/12 was “beneath me.” I had no reason to tilt – I was playing well. The “lower limit” explanation is the only one that makes sense. I guess I’ve come quite a ways from tilting at the $3/6 tables.

Can $400/800 be far behind?

Final thought: Please scroll down and re-read my post called Breaking News!! I’ve re-edited it, and I hope to have some goodies to share soon.

Follow Up to “Why Do We Blog?”

23 MAR 06

Bloggers Dr. Pauly, Spaceman, Bobby Bracelet, Chad, BG, Joe Speaker, CJ, and AlCantHang found yet another reason to blog.

Enjoy the Playboy Mansion.

Jerks.

Who Knew?

20 MAR 06

As I’ve mentioned before, I blog for me. The fact that anyone else reads this stuff is cool, but it’s really secondary. That being said, I always check for comments, so I guess I care a little. I love getting comments from other bloggers, and friends and family will occasionally stop by. Rarely do I get a comment from someone outside the blogsphere.

Until Friday.

A while back, I wrote this post about a commentary on NPR called This I Believe. The NPR story was great, and if it’s still on the NPR website, you should give it a listen. Here is a portion of what I wrote about it:

I have heard this Mozart Sonata done by numerous masters. It’s one of my favorites. Ms. Rusnov is not an expert. Her timing is off and she clearly displays her amateur status here. Yet, why did I find myself crying? Go listen for yourself. It’s pure beauty.

And then, out of the blue, I get this reply in the comments section of the blog:

Hi, this is Mel Rusnov, the writer of the This I Believe essay you mentioned. Yep, I'm an amateur pianist and I butchered that beautiful Mozart Sonata--your keen ear for music sure picked that up! But, your comments on the message in the essay and the way it made you feel were lovely and generous. Many thanks!

I’m speechless. Mel, if you come by here again, please know that your comment made my day. Hell, it made my whole week. So did your essay.

Breaking News!! EDITED

15 MAR 06 (See editors note below)

I’ve become friendly with many of the dealers at my local casino, the Muckleshoot. I guess it’s because I’m always nice and I always toke the dealers. They tend to stop by and say “hi,” even when I’m just standing at the board. I’ve blogged about Mary. She’s a wonderful woman who refused to run away with me when she saw my wedding ring. Jokton always says, “Hey Doc,” whenever he sees me, and Heather gives me a huge smile and hello when I walk in.

Colette is attractive. No one would argue this point. She is always professional and she’s a great dealer – I honestly think most people don’t realize how good she is. She wears a bit of make up and clearly takes good care of herself. Sometimes, however, Colette comes in “done up.” No joke – she looks like a supermodel, and it’s almost surreal. Why is this supermodel dealing me cards? I should be watching her on the TV, not flipping her a dollar when she pushes me a pot.

Come to find out, Colette has a secret identity. Occasionally she’ll disappear. The last time she was gone, I found out that she was flown to Monte Carlo to deal to Phil Ivey et al during the last Monte Carlo Millions (which Phil won). So last night, she’s chatting with the table and she casually mentions that she just got back from Costa Rica. I remembered this article, so I said, “Were you down there when the cops raided Calvin’s house?” Well, she got this deer in the headlights look. “You know about that?”

At this point, I realize that the rest of the table has become very curious. I smile and nod, saying yes. She gets this really cute furrowed brow look and finally says that yes, she was there at his house, but wasn’t dealing when the cops came crashing in. In fact, she said, there was no gambling at all when the Policia arrived.

For those that didn’t link the article, Calvin Ayre is the billionaire tycoon that started bodog.com. He has a mansion in Costa Rica and he’s filming a reality TV show down there. 100 cops came crashing into his house, coincidentally when the cameras were rolling. The theory was that either Calvin had a disagreement with the Costa Rican government, or this was just a big publicity stunt.

Here is the breaking news – Colette tells me that it was in fact a publicity stunt. I know this isn’t earth shattering, but I’m rarely (if ever) on the “inside,” so I feel kinda special knowing someone that was there. The really funny part was that when she finished dealing, she came over and whispered in my ear, “Are you on the board at Bodog?” Yeah, a geek like me on the board. Nah, I told her. I’m just a doc that reads a lot on the internet. She says she’ll email me some pictures from the event. I hope she does – I’ll post any good ones here.

Final note: I posted this in the comments section of my last entry, but it deserves to be brought up to the main page. Besides, the comments sections don’t include the cool links.

For those that don’t know, Maigrey coined the brilliantly impromptu phrase, “Bah, when serving justice, guilt is a poor condiment” in the comments section of my blog entry about a Valentine’s Day Maiming I levied against a deserving opponent. She realized how great the phrase is, and now uses it as the banner on her blog. In fact, it can also be found as the banner at Hoff’s place.

Since it was first posted to my blog, I demanded royalties. Can you blame a guy for trying to cash in? (I guess you can.)

Editors note: Embarrassingly, Colette saw my blog. You know how you felt when the cute cheerleader in high school saw your notebook with the “Dr. Chako loves Bunny” note written inside? Yeah – that’s how I feel right now. Well, she’s really cool about it and pointed out a few corrections I needed to make to the story. Said corrections are now made (sorry if anyone out there was given the wrong impression – totally my fault). I even corrected the spelling of her name (one “L” two “T’s,”). Hopefully, I’ll get some cool pics out of it.

+EV

14 MAR 06

It’s been a while since I’ve done anything +EV. I’ve been on a winning streak for the month of March, so I don’t want to jinx it by talking about it. What I can tell you is that I’ve done four +EV things that I’m pretty proud of.

1. The last time I played, I folded AJ on the button to a reraise from the cutoff. This isn’t really a big deal because it’s the right move, but I think it shows my growth as a poker player. I would have lost the hand, but the outcome doesn’t matter.

2. I stopped playing internet poker 2 months ago. I’d like to say it’s because of my fears about cheating, but it was really about my inability to stop playing –EV games. I’d keep winning at the 2-table turbo SNG’s just to give it all back at Limit Hold ‘em.

3. I actually chose to work at my internet business a few times lately rather than go to the casino. This is +EV in the purest sense.

4. Perhaps my biggest +EV choice recently – I was very tired when I got home yesterday, but I got home early enough to hit the casino for one of my famous “drive-by shootings.” Instead, I took a nap.

That’s money in the bank.

Themes

13 MAR 06

I love themes. Last nights theme was almost rhythmic:

AA – flopped the set – cracked by runner runner flush.
KK – Ace hit the flop. One test bet gets raised and called. I folded, of course. Showdown was A3 vs A2. Nice.
QQ – Cracked by 92 off-suit. Nothing new there.
JJ – Cracked by AA. He flopped the set. How come his hold up when mine don’t?

Waah.

This isn’t a bad beat story. It’s a theme.

The theme being, I suck. Ta frikkin’ da.

Drive By Shooter

10 MAR 06

I’ve become a drive-by shooter. This is a term I’ve heard used at the blackjack table. You get a good table where everyone is playing well. The dealer keeps busting and the last person to act understands when to hit and when to stay.

Then along comes Mr. Drive-By with his $25 chip and walks up to the lone empty seat. Often times, he stands behind it and flips the chip into the open circle. The cards come out all 10’s except for Mr. DB who gets an Ace. The second cards are all 5’s and 6’s except for Mr. DB who hits the Jack. Dealer flips a Queen, checks for the green light and pays Mr. DB who collects $37.50 and waits to see everyone else bust before walking away. Now the table is on tilt, and you are guaranteed to lose the next 4 hands in a row – usually when the dealer goes runner, runner 21.

I’ve been doing the same at poker. There is often a 10/20 seat open right when I get home from work, but I only have 1-2 hours to play before I have to leave. This usually means I have to play more aggressively if I hope to win anything. Yesterday was no exception.

After re-reading the great post (linked from Iggy) by Abdul Jalib regarding pre-flop play, I really opened my starting hand requirements. I won some big pots early. Someone finally called me down to the river on an ugly hand. I had K5 of diamonds and raised in middle position. To be fair, I didn’t get this from Jalib – this was just me being overly aggressive. The flop is 2 diamonds. I bet and get raised by an AM*. The button calls the raise and so do I saying, “Black card, dealer!” The turn is a 3rd diamond, so I bet my flush, but I do it angrily. Call. Call. River is blank. Bet. Call. Call. I drag the pot.

Chuck (and old rock I’ve blogged about before) starts going on and on about me raising with K5 soooted. It was beautiful. I played like a rock after that and got paid very well. Bottom line: 45 minutes - $170 profit. It would have been better but the AM called to the river against my pocket kings. He called my early raise with 63 and flopped the 3 and rivered the 6. Oh well. I want him making that call every time.

You should check out www.zillow.com

Thanks for the responses to my dilemma yesterday. That was one of those posts I put up from time to time that are really intended for me. Writing helps me solidify or resolve issues that bug me. Your comments (both posted and not posted) helped.

Time to go eat some lunch, courtesy of Drizz.

*AM – Asian Maniac

Where Am I Going With This?

8 MAR 06

Answer: I don’t know.

Davy is a friend of mine. This is a true statement. We all have friends that sometimes do things that make us question the friendship, and Davy sure has done some things. Yet, at the end of the day, I still consider him a friend. Honest.

…

ALEXANDRIA, Virginia (AP) -- Jurors at Zacarias Moussaoui's sentencing trial were transfixed Tuesday by a minute-by-minute account of al Qaeda's hijacking of American Airlines' Flight 11 and the plane's journey into the north tower of the World Trade Center.

"We are flying low. We are flying very very low. We are flying way too low," flight attendant Amy Sweeney told ground controllers who asked where the plane was at 8:44 a.m. on September 11, 2001. A few seconds' pause, and then, finally: "Oh my God, we are way too low!"

The phone went dead at 8:46 a.m.

Leaving the courtroom for a recess moments later, the 37-year-old Frenchman of Moroccan descent surged from his chair, pumped his right fist in the air and shouted: "Allah Akbar! God curse America! Bless Osama bin Laden!"

When I heard this story on NPR this morning, I wanted to drive to Virginia and cudgel this man. I wanted to make him hurt. The anger from 9/11 is still there.

…

Before Davy was my friend, he was my mentor. He is also a physician and just like me got his education paid for by Uncle Sam. Unlike me, the Army did not fit well with Davy. This is perhaps the understatement of the century. To say that the Army and Davy didn’t play nice with each other is like saying, well, I can’t really come up with an analogy that adequately covers just how bad this relationship was. But maybe this will explain.

It’s September 11th, 2001. I am still a resident learning my craft, and Davy is one of my teaching staff. Our program director cuts our conference short and tells everyone to come watch the TV by his office. We all get there just after the first plane has hit the WTC tower. We are transfixed. Speechless. More people are arriving. What’s going on? We are talking in hushed tones so we can hear the newscasters try to make sense of it all.

In comes Davy. He immediately sizes up the situation and says, “Those fuckers should hit the Pentagon!”

About 10 minutes later, they did.

We all slowly turned our heads toward Davy. He had this weird smile, and then he walked away.

We’ve never really talked about that conversation, but I bet Davy would say he meant it and still means it. How can a physician be so callus? What grievous insult must have been committed to make him so bitter? What about the innocent civilians?

How can I condemn one idiot without condemning the other?

Defining Your Hand

7 MAR 06

The game is 10/20, but it’s a ½ kill, which is weird at my local casino because it goes to 15/25. The person one to my left is on the kill and has a forced bet of $15. I’m dealt pocket Kings, so I raise it to $30. The kill calls and there is one other caller.

The flop is Q 10 2 with two hearts.

I bet. The kill button raises. Early position folds.

What is your move here?

Fold: Unlikely. I suppose he could have flopped two pair, but his raise says either he flopped top pair or he has the flush or straight draw and is hoping to get a free card on the turn.

Call: Decent option, but only for the right reason. If you think you have the best hand (which you probably do given that he may have just been defending his kill button), you can call here hoping to check raise the turn.

Re-raise: I think this is the best option provided the kill isn’t a maniac (which he wasn’t).

I re-raised and the kill just called. I put him on a Queen with a decent kicker.

Turn 10. Now there is a pair of 10’s on the board. A player not in the hand says, “ooh – that’s a scary card.”

Is it? I don’t think so, but I need to find out.

I bet $25. Kill just calls. I now know I’ve won the hand unless I get an unlucky river.

River is a blank. Do you bet here?

If you think you’ve won the hand, you MUST bet here. I did. He called and didn’t show when I turned over my kings.

Trust your reads. Define your hands. Play good poker.

Final thought: I got this from an email titled, “Things I’ve Learned Since Kindergarten” - I've learned that you can keep puking long after you think you're finished.

Brokeback

5 MAR 05

The jokes about this damn movie are getting a bit old.

Well, unless they are sung by Willie.

Note 1: I’m no big fan of country music, but if this ain’t really Willie, someone better sign this imposter up.
Note 2: Don’t be drinking anything that might spray out your nose when the squirrels show up. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The Hand

4 MAR 06

The game is 15/25. It’s a stupid game. The blinds are 10 and 15, which means the small blind is coming into any unraised pot, and there is usually a lot of action. Good luck calculating pot odds. When the big bet isn’t twice the small bet, it makes my head hurt.

I’m on the button with pocket 9’s. Two early callers and I raise to $30. Small blind reraises. Big blind caps and with $300 in the pot, 5 of us see a flop of:

K 9 6 rainbow.

Stay calm.

Small blind bets. 3 callers to me and I raise to $30. Everyone calls and now the pot sits at $450.

Turn blank. Everyone checks to me. There are now two clubs and a weird straight possibility. I bet $25 and get two callers. $525 in the pot and the river is a blank. It checks to me and I bet again. Two callers – both had two pair.

$600.

Biggest. Pot. Ever.

Thanks to Stefan for sweating me in a live game. He was trying to get into the 10/20, but with the bad beat jackpot hovering near $300,000, there was a 4 hour wait. The 15/25 seat was open early because most good players hate that game. I don’t know. I kinda like it.

Concentration

3 MAR 06

My concentration has been off lately. Perhaps it’s this damn cold. I’ve been playing solid Level One poker, which is to say, I really only paid attention to my hand.

Case in point – At 10/20 I have KJ in middle position and I raise. I get reraised by the cutoff. Four players see a flop of Q 10 3. With an up and down straight draw I check (see, I don’t always lead out with a drawing hand). Cutoff bets and gets four callers. As the dealer is getting ready to burn and turn, an EP player says, “Pair the board!” The cutoff stares him down as another 3 come out. EP player checks after getting what he asked for. Cutoff bets again. I call, and the loud mouth EP player folds.

River is an Ace. Sweet. I have the nut straight.

I check. Cutoff bets. I raise.

Cutoff reraises.

Shit. Review the hand. Ummm… shit. Cutoff reraised preflop.

I’m forced to call the reraise to see his full house.

So this is what Level One feels like.

I never want to feel that way again.

Fortunately, there was a donkey at my table who paid me handsomely with his AK on a board of A A 2 3 6, when I had the full house with A2. He capped the turn and was going to cap the river. Unfortunately, I wasn’t paying attention again, and thought he called my reraise on the river. He was actually about to reraise when I showed my full house. He folded without even calling, and I lost 2 big bets.

For the night: 4 hours - four dollars profit.

Dollar an hour, baby!!

Final thought: This is from Scott Adams' Dilbert Blog.
The sentence for attempted murder should be the same as the sentence for successful murder. Otherwise we’re just rewarding incompetence.

Six Sigmas Out

27 FEB 06

The Tiltboys have a great post about standard deviation (AKA Sigma) and one of their Vegas trips. I think some or all of their posts have been converted to a book, which is legit. Sometimes I read bloggers and think, gee – I can’t believe I can read this great writing for free. Sometimes, I even say “gosh – golly,” or “wowsers.”

So, I was thinking about my own experience with standard deviation. Long time readers will remember my post about flopping three full houses, only to have all three beaten by quads by the same guy. No – this didn’t happen online. It was at my old standby, the Muckleshoot (bad beat jackpot now stands just under $300,000).

Last night, I had another experience with standard deviation, this time to the other side. In the span of one hour, I was dealt AK 8 times, 6 of them suited. I also had AQ and AJ. My final hand at that table was AA. The whole table was cracking up, because I kept raising or reraising. The funny thing was that no one believed me. I did not slow play. I announced, “Yes folks, it happened again. Raise!” Yet still they came. I won 80% of those hands, often going to a showdown. When I got the AA, I said, “Folks, this time it’s not AK.” I showed the kid sitting next to me, and he about freaked out. Got one caller to the river (he had K4 and hit the king on the flop).

Overall, I won $800 this weekend, but that includes a second place in a $40 buy-in home game tournament. I got to heads up as the chip leader, but Jay caught a crazy run of cards (including three consecutive hands with pocket pairs), and busted me. At one point, he laid down KK face up to my all in. The board was J 9 8 6 with three clubs. I had J 10 with one club. It was a great lay down. We rabbit hunted – he would have won, but I think I make the same lay down on that scary board.

One funny hand. I had the early chip lead. With 33, I raised and was reraised. The flop was 3 5 6. I underbet the pot. Ron raises to where he is almost pot committed. I go all-in and he quickly calls. He flips over KK. The guy to my left says, “I folded a King.”

Turn blank.

River King.

Still, I had plenty of chips, but the one-out suckout really affected me. I was still steaming 5 hands later, but I was smart enough to fold all marginal hands while I was still pissed.

I may have said this before, but I think I’m back. Even if I’m not, it sure feels good when the cards are coming my way, followed closely by the money.

Donkeys Always Draw

25 SEP 05

First off – big shout out to Mr. and Mrs. Skitch. It was great finally meeting you. Of course, I had a hard time finding Mrs. Skitch because she was hidden behind a huge mound of chips. Do you give lessons?

My game was pathetic. Although I only lost $80, I played too long and should have lost the whole thing. The night found me all-in (at friggin’ 4/8!!) 4 times. I lost with KK and 10 10, but won with K6, K3 (twice), 10 2 and 4 5. What the hell am I playing those hands for, you ask? Perhaps I was in the blind? Nope. Just me being a moron, thanks.

That being said, there is an argument (albeit a weak one) that starting hand range should have been MUCH wider at this table, because if you caught a hand, you would be paid handsomely for it. I dragged 4 pots over $100, but obviously lost my share of big pots, too.

Still, this was my first time back after starting my new business and my self-imposed exile from the 10/20 game at the Muckleshoot. My reads were perfect and my post flop play was good but for two call-downs when I knew I was beat. I tried to justify them by saying to myself that I was proving I couldn’t be intimidated, but all I was really proving was that I could be a donkey, just like the rest of them.

Case in point. I have 5 10 of diamonds in the cutoff seat. Clearly a calling hand, (go with me here) right? The flop is Ks Js 2d. There are three callers in front, so I call. My thought here is I’ll stay to see if a Queen or diamond come on the turn.

What a moronic play. There. I saved you from having to post it in the comments.

Turn: 7d

4 callers (including me) see the river:

Ace of diamonds.

Now I bet. No point in slowplaying, because I’ll get at least two callers. Sure enough, the button calls with two pair and I drag the pot.

It felt weird to be on the receiving end of the “you stupid moron” speech. I got the full treatment, including, “what did you like about that flop (you idiot)?” and “what the hell were you doing in there with 5 10, anyway?”

But they were soooooted!!

Yes!! I finally got to say it.

Final thought: Do you think there is any correlation between the fact that I lost money, and played so many stupid hands?

Blogging Because I Have To

24 FEB 06

Seems silly, but I feel this strange obligation to put something up here, even though I have nothing to say. I have played no poker since I last blogged. I’ve got a tournament lined up this weekend, and I plan on hitting the loose PJ Pockets tables some time soon, but I’m in a funk. Work has become un-fun. I know that seems obvious, but I usually look forward to coming to work.

The home business I started is looking promising, but I’ll need a big jump in bandwidth to keep it alive. Can’t say much more than that. Frustrating.

My big poker goal looks like it’s getting shelved for a while. That’s bumming me out, too.

My gazebo blew over in the wind last night and self-destructed. Unrecoverable. Tangled mess of wrought iron and fabric.

My bathroom shower is still leaking. The contractor was there today and said his guys installed the weep holes on the wrong side. It’s nowhere near as bad as Dawn, but still…

Maybe that’s it. I think my weep holes were installed on the wrong side.

Smart Nerd

21 FEB 06

Great. I’m a smart nerd. And the sky is blue…

How's about some poker?!

I had President’s Day off (sometimes being a federal employee is a good thing). Of course, I drove one hour to the Tulalip Casino for a little game we call No Limit Texas Hold ‘em. I hate the drive and I REALLY hate the return trip through rush-hour traffic. Fortunately, the drive back this time was better, probably due to the holiday. By 10:30 am they had 3 tables (!) of no limit (yet the Muckleshoot can't get one). I didn’t book a winning session, but I only lost $30, so I consider that almost a win. That being said, my beta was huge (I told you I was a geek. Beta is another word for variance. In this case I’m using it to mean huge swings in my bankroll).

I had great reads on everyone at the table and only made one donkey play. I had AQ in late position. There were three limpers and I raised it to 4 x BB. All three limpers called. The flop was K 10 4 rainbow. It checks around to me. I have $70 left in front of me, so I go all in. The only decent player at the table is next to act and he goes into the tank. He finally calls. The other two fold and he flips over 10 8. The turn and river are no help and he drags a big pot. Most of the table freaked out about the call, but it was a great call. My bet made no sense, and he correctly picked up on it.

I quickly rebought and played pretty tight until I look down at 7 8 on the button. 6 limpers (!), and I limp too. The flop is K 9 6 with two diamonds. I have the open ender. It checks around to me and I smell a trap. As I’ve told you, I love leading with a drawing hand, but since I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar, I figured someone was counting on me betting in position so they could check raise, and I just checked.

The turn was a 2 of clubs. The good player bets the pot. I put him on a weak king or maybe second pair. The rock to my right calls and I think a long time before calling.

The river is a 2 of spades. I figure the rock to my right missed her flush draw, but I’m not sure about the good player in seat 4. He thinks a while and finally checks. The rock checks and it comes to me.

All in.

Here are my thoughts:
1. I know the rock will fold.
2. The paired board is scary.
3. Seat 4 is out of position with the rock yet to act.
4. I just got called on an all-in and lost. I wouldn’t do it again, would I?

The 4 seat really goes into the tank now. He’s counting out his chips. I lean forward with my cards in my hand and say, “I’ll show you.” The table reacts and says, “Wait, the rock still has to act!” I knew she was there – I was counting on it.

He finally folds, as does the rock (of course). I survey the table to see if they could guess my hand. Most guessers said full house. One said Kings full. Another said 6’s full. I flipped over my busted straight and there was much shouting - drowned out only by me dragging and stacking chips.

Here's one funny hand. Prior to this hand, the rock had made a hugely bad tilt call and beat me out of a big pot. I had trip 8’s on the turn and bet the pot. She called on a flush draw and hit on the river. Big deal. At least I know she’s capable of making bad plays on occasion. A few orbits later and I get 2 4 in the big blind. 2 limpers. She completes and I check. The flop is J 8 4 (whoo-hooo – bottom pair, two kicker). Rock overbets the pot.

Huh?

I’m really short stacked, so I go all in over the top. Everyone else folds.

Here is the funny part. She’s about to fold!! What?!?! I say – hey, it’s only another 7 dollars. Okay, she says, but you caught me, and she flips over 5 3.

You’ve got to be kidding me. But wait, there’s more!!

The turn – J.

The river – 8.

I have Jacks and 8’s with a 4 kicker, she has a 5 kicker.

Will someone please cover my mouth with tape and kick my ass? Thanks.

Final thought – my tech was hospitalized. I hope she stays long enough to get the care she needs.

Taking a Break

18 FEB 06

I thought I could handle the bad beats. Financially – no problem. Emotionally – well, that’s a whole different ball game.

I didn’t tilt last night, but I did two things that are unforgivable in the poker world. First, I allowed myself to be affected when a moron sucked out on my pocket 10’s with his K5 to go runner-runner straight. I didn’t open up my starting hand range (the usual manifestation of my tilt), but I steamed for the next hour. I think it was my steaming that caused sin #2.

Chuck is a rock. He’s about 75 years old and he walks with a cane. He’s a bit crotchety, but most of the regulars respect him. He’s capable of an occasional tricky play, but he’s usually got you beat if he stays to the river.

He’s SB and I’m BB. The pot is raised. He calls and I complete with my K7 hearts. The flop is AQ6 with the Ace and 6 both hearts. Cool – nut flush draw. Chuck checks and so do I. Unbelievably (especially for this table), it checks around and we see the turn.

4 of hearts. Sweet.

I check the nuts. It checks around to Chuck who bets. I smooth call to milk out of few more bets from the morons at the other end of the table. 4 callers see a blank river and an unpaired board.

Chuck bets. I raise. Fold. Fold. Chuck re-raises.

Huh?

My first thought is, sweet! I got one over on Chuck!

Cap it!

Chuck calls and flips over…

A9 of hearts.

As they push him the pot, I shoot up and say, “Wait! I’ve got the nuts!”

No sir, you have the second nuts. I misread the board. Badly. The Ace on the board was a diamond, and the Queen was the heart. I had the King-high flush, but I thought I had the Ace-high flush.

Big pot go bye, bye.

So does Dr. Chako.

I’m taking a break from poker for a while to reassess my game. I know my strong suits are tournaments and NL ring games. Limit has been kicking my ass for too long, and it must stop. Taking a break is the only +EV thing I can do right now. Besides, the business thingy I eluded to last month is starting next week.

-DrC

Oh yeah, an update on the saga at work. My tech had a complete psychotic break, complete with hysterics and extreme paranoia. Fortunately, I was the only one she would listen to. I got a call from her early this morning, and convinced her to go to the Emergency Room. I called the ER in advance, and they are expecting her. One of my soldiers is escorting her there personally. I sincerely hope she gets whatever help she needs.

Update on Mean Bosses

16 FEB 06

Thanks guys. As I noted in the comments section yesterday, things seemed to be improving. Here is what I said:

She finally calmed down enough to tell me:

a. She hasn't slept in over 2 days
b. She's lost 9 pounds since I promoted her
c. She has spent most of the last 48 hours crying
d. She didn't call the FDA
e. She found an easy way (with a little help) to fix the problem - as I knew she would

I sent her home with a directive that she get some food and some rest. I told her not to think about work until Friday or Monday. She started crying again and she hugged me and thanked me.

It's not over, but I'm most of the way through the thicket (at least this time).

So, this morning, despite my explicit instructions that she was not allowed to think about work or call us, I got a page from her at 7:25 am. In fact, EVERY MEMBER of my department got a call from her this morning. Her comments were very upbeat, but scattered. She thanked me profusely for caring, and told me that I was the best boss she ever had. Then she gave me an assignment.

Huh?

She told me (as she told everyone else when she called them) that we had to think of a word that best describes what’s important in life. She’s going to get our responses when she comes in tomorrow, and then tell us the real answer.

I met with the department soon after I got off the phone. They were all very concerned. They are a pretty perceptive bunch, and they all noted that my tech seemed to be decompensating. One even noted that she’s on the verge of a psychotic break.

Perhaps.

What I do know is that she’s in trouble. She’s asking for help whether she knows it or not, and that’s exactly what I will try to do. I have arranged for her to see our Occupational Health department before she starts back to work. During that screening, they will ask some routine questions about mental health. If she passes, then she’s back to work.

Something tells me that she’ll have some difficulty passing this test.

-DrC

Final thought: I blog about poker and get a few responses, probably because I have very little to add to the amazing stuff that’s already out there. I blog about reality, and everyone can relate (and offered some well-reasoned advice, too. Well, except for Darryl). Weird.

This Is Not About You

15 FEB 06

When I started this blog, it was to give me a way to write about my own thoughts for my own benefit. Dear reader, this entry has very little to do with poker, and it’s not for your entertainment. I need a way to get my thoughts down. Feel free to read and offer advice if you think it will help, but you aren’t going to like me much when you are done reading, and I really don’t want any more abuse, thank you.

Here goes.

Poker may be starting to affect my work.

It’s interesting. I remember when I started playing many years ago (okay, it was last year, but it feels longer), I got a few bad beats while playing 4/8. I came into work the next day and was really hard on my residents. The fact they had it coming was merely coincidence. One of my residents was looking at a CT scan and couldn’t tell the difference between the uterus and the bladder. I really laid into him.

Afterwards, he actually thanked me. It seems that no other staff had cared enough to get involved, much less angry. He told me that he’d try better, and that he appreciated my willingness to attend every resident conference and provide input. I guarantee he’ll never forget his female anatomy again.

But, was I overly emotional because of the bad beat the previous night? If I’m being honest, I’m forced to say yes. Just because I was doing the right thing doesn’t justify HOW I did it. There were plenty of other less confrontational ways of approaching this resident. In fact, I got reprimanded for my actions.

Well, I got another bad beat yesterday. In fact, it was a string of bad beats akin to the slaughter of Daniel Negreanu at High Stakes Poker (am I the only one watching this show on GSN?).

So today, I come in early and immediately get a distress call from one of my techs. It seems she was up all night worrying about whether or not we are in compliance with a certain federal regulation. Now, there are a lot of things I do that need to be in strict compliance. Certain things are Level 1 critical (for instance, the amount of radiation coming out of my machine is too high – I shut it down without a second thought). In this case, the tech felt that the issue was a Level 1, and she wanted to shut us down. Fortunately, it’s my decision. The issue is clearly important, but it’s about a Level 3 or 4 (these levels are arbitrary – my point is, the issue is clearly important, but not bad enough to cancel a full day of patients).

Well, the fact that it takes her 30 minutes to explain the issue to me (while patients and residents are waiting), coupled with the fact that she clearly cares more about the issue than is healthy, coupled with the fact that she won’t let me interject to explain to her how we were going to solve the problem caused me to get a little short.

This will come back to haunt me. As I type this, she is calling the FDA. They are not known for measured reasoning in cases like this. I expect we may get shut down - not because we need to get shut down, but because they will likely not understand the issue after my tech explains it. Their “cease” order may be precautionary until they can get more information.

And you know what? It’s MY fault. I promoted this tech to the lead position because I had to fire both previous leaders. Both prior firings were fully justified (the first had committed 2 felony offenses and the second I blogged about – she was the one going through the messy divorce who kept bringing her new boyfriend to work, taking 2 hour lunches, and acting very inconvenienced when asked to do her job). I CAN’T fire another one.

My thoughts here turn to Change100 at Pot Committed. I’ve been fired from one job, but it was not my career. She got fired from a career-type position. That’s exactly what I may be facing with my tech – firing her from a career position. It could be devastating. I don’t want to do it. Hopefully, I’ll find a way to bring her around, or at the very least put her back where she was (not in a leadership position).

I promise I won’t make any final decisions until I’m sure it’s not rash behavior from my recent bad beat.

This sucks. A better person would find a way to make this work.

Valentine’s Day Maiming

14 FEB 06

Not quite a massacre, but still…

Dovetailing on the “I’m not showboating” post, I’m forced to admit that I can be a jerk if given the right impetus. Take Mr. “I’ve got plenty of money.” We are playing 10/20. I’m not in the hand, but after the final card is dealt, he checks. There is a bet and he quickly says, “all in for 10.” At this point, he throws two red chips into the pot and turns over the nuts. The MP bettor realizes he’s beat, pulls back two of his red chips (making his bet match the $10 all-in from Mr. IGPOM), and mucks. Well, Mr. IGPOM realizes he still had 4 white $1 chips in front of him and demands the extra $4 from MP.

Table goes nuts. Floor gets called. Ruling:

The “All-In” is binding. Pay the man his $4.

Mr. IGPOM earns his nickname by throwing the $4 back at MP, saying, well, you know what he said. It was the principle of the thing, he said. MP does the only respectable thing and tokes the dealer the $4.

Now forward to my showdown with Mr. IGPOM. I’m in the BB with 9h 4h. Five limpers and we see a pot of 8 10 J with two hearts. I check and there is a bet. Mr. IGPOM raises. I smooth call and 4 of us see the turn.

Qh.

Sweet. Now I have the flush and the open ended straight-flush draw. I check again (you dog, you). Mr. IGPOM bets, I raise and everyone else folds. He calls. The river is a blank.

Okay. No more Dr. Nice Guy. I bet and stare him down. He pauses and raises. Now, I know he’s got the straight, probably to the king, and absolutely does not put me on the flush.

Now, remember earlier when I said I’m not usually a jerk. Well, it’s time to jerk it up!!

Dr. Chako: Raise? Well, I’ve got the straight, too (which is technically true). I re-raise!

Mr. IGPOM: Cap it!!

I couldn’t call fast enough. I flip over the 9 saying, “there’s my straight.” I wait for his smile when I flip the 4 and say, “and there’s my flush.”

Ooomph. Right in the old gut.

If he wasn’t such a jerk, that would have been much less painful. Part of me wants to feel bad about this.

I’ll get over it.

Tired

11 FEB 06

I got called at 3:53 am this morning from the hospital. In my stupor, I got the patient information and went downstairs to look at the CT scan. The case was a 20 year old male with cerebral palsy and belly pain. Did he have appendicitis?

Here is the thing. We have two residents in the hospital over night for call. One resident is junior (usually only 1 or 2 years of experience as a radiology resident) and one senior (with 3 or 4 years of experience). It’s rare that a staff radiologist gets called at home to look at a scan after both the junior and senior resident have looked at it. We are always available, but most of the time, the diagnosis is fairly obvious. When the staff comes in in the morning, we either agree or disagree with the resident preliminary interpretation, and add additional information to complete the case. It’s not a perfect system, but there is no better way to learn radiology then to be the main interpreter on call – knowing that your staff may not look at the exam for up to 12 hours.

Well, I looked at the scan and it was normal. What did the resident say? He also said it was normal. Good for him.

But wait… why am I looking at this scan? Now that I’m completely awake, I realize – hey, I’m not on call. WTF?

Turns out no one told the junior resident how to read the call schedule. It was a totally different staff doctor on call – at least until 7 am, when my shift started.

Now comes the tossing and turning trying to get back to bed. You know, it’s nearly impossible to fall asleep when:

1. You are still thinking about a case
2. You want to slaughter a resident
3. You can’t stop thinking about rabbits

Actual Poker Content!!

9 FEB 06

As I look at my last several entries, I realize that there has been a lack (okay, absence) of poker-related content. I aim to fix that now. I’m no theorist, and I have very little wisdom to share regarding how to play specific hands. I am; however, an expert on tilt. Saying that I go on tilt is really not saying much. Lately, I’ve been trying to pay specific attention to how it manifests.

To say I play too many hands is an understatement. I try to “make it back.” I stop reading other players. I forget who the calling stations are and who will fold. I get pissed. I slam my hand on the table. I seethe.

I heard a brief interview with Scotty Nguyen about tilt. He smiled his typical smile and said, “Baby (he always says “baby”), when you’re on tilt, that 9,10 looks like gold.” This simple statement totally sums up how I play when I’m on tilt. Now, I know that 9,10 has its place in a multi-way pot, especially in position. My problem is playing it too often, and not getting away from it when there is a reasonable chance I’m beat. Implied pot odds are a bitch if you aren’t bankrolled to handle the variance when you don’t hit your draw 5 hands in a row. I probably need to back off after missing a draw and avoid drawing hands until I build a bankroll that can handle a miss or two. I’m a much better player when I am playing with someone else’s money than when I’m stuck $300.

I needed this advice for my most recent endeavor back onto Pokerstars. Online bankroll gone. Again. ‘Nuf Said. I won consistently at turbo SNG’s and did fairly well at the .25/.50 NL. Why did I feel it necessary to multi-table 1/2 LHE?

Poker players are an interesting bunch. I’ve become a regular at the 10/20 game at the Muckleshoot. All the dealers know me, and so do most of the regulars. I used to have a tight table image, but lately I’ve done quite a bit to erode that image, and people are starting to notice. Todd, one of the regulars, actually said something about it to me last night. Most of the players at the table knew each other, but there was one unknown and aggressive young Asian player in seat one. He had just dragged two big pots with 9,3 off-suit and 10, 2 off-suit. I’m in seat 3, and I called his raise. The flop is A 3 5 with two diamonds. He bets, and I call. The turn is a 9 of clubs. He checks and I check. The river is a blank. He bets and I call with my A 6. He mucks without showing. At this point, Todd is very surprised and says, "you called the raise with what?” A 6, I reply. His eyebrows remain up for several seconds, and I hear an audible “hmmf.” Almost like, “wow.” I replied that it was a total tilt call, and he just nodded his head.

Here is the thing: It was a tilt call. That being said, I thought I had a decent chance of winning if I could isolate the Asian kid even with ace-high. When I flopped the ace, and especially when he checked the turn, I knew he would have to suck out on me to win. The point is, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make this play at the time and I would have been destroyed if he beat me yet again. Todd’s surprise may not have been intended to be anything other than surprise, but here’s what I got from it – Todd was tell me to be careful. I’ll get hurt more often calling a raise with A 6 off then just folding it - despite my “read.” Mike Caro suggests never trying to teach a bad player how to play better – they’ll only use it to hurt you (are you listening Michelle?), and Todd may not have been trying to teach me anything, but owe him my thanks all the same.

BTW – I booked a winning session.

In keeping with the “family” theme of the poker rounders, I’m not sure what to do about Pissing Off Diana. Diana is a regular and a fairly good tourney player, but she’s far too tight at LHE, and I’ve never seen her book a winning session, although I’m sure she does. I’ve blogged about her before – she was at the table when I had that really fun night, and she was there when I had my three flopped full houses cracked by quads (all by the same guy and all within 45 minutes, not that I’m still bitter). Well, last night I look down at AJ. I raise and she re-raises from the button. At this point, there are only 4 hands she could be holding, so I know I’m probably beat. The flop is all low cards. I check, she bets and I call. The turn is another low card. I pause here for quite a bit before betting with my ace high. My thought is that she may lay down AK, but I want to see where I’m at. She just calls (?). The river is an Ace. I say, “uh oh, I think I got you,” and I check.

My check here is for two reasons. Number one is I think I may be beat. Two of the possible 4 hands she’s holding have an ace with a better kicker. Number two is the old honor-among-thieves play. I kind of feel bad for sucking out on her, even though I usually have no problem taking her (or anyone else’s) extra bet.

She checks behind and turns over her pocket kings, and I drag the pot. Well, now she’s steaming.

Diana: Nice showboating there.

Dr. Chako: Huh? I wasn’t showboating – honest! I could have bet the river and taken more from you. In fact, I bet the turn. If you would have raised, I would have folded (true, BTW). You just called, and you let me get there.

Diana: You did not! You checked, I bet and you called the turn.

Before I could argue, the rest of the table jumped to my defense and said that I did, in fact, bet the turn. I doubt they believe I would have folded to a raise, but who cares? I’d rather they believe I WOULD have called. I tried apologizing two more times, and even a third time as I was leaving. She finally managed a weak smile and nod at me which said, in effect, “consider it forgiven but not forgotten.”

Hopefully I’ll get a chance to post some of my thoughts about leading with a drawing hand. I do it almost all the time when I’m on tilt, and this probably falls into the FPS (fancy play syndrome) category, but it’s been profitable for me, I think. I also want to send out a thanks to threebet33 for his excellent posts from his high limit experience. I asked him a question and he responded thoughtfully and gave me a lot to think about, too. I commented twice to this post, and there was another commenter. The last comment was deleted by the author. Now, normally I’m not paranoid, but I think the comment was deleted because it was derogatory about me (probably pointing out my ignorance), and because the author doesn’t want me knowing what a moron I am, in case I find myself at his table in Vegas.

This I Believe

8 FEB 06

NPR does a segment called “This I Believe.” Sometimes it’s corny, but they have a lot of essayists to choose from, and they usually pick a good one. The one from Monday was excellent. Here is a link to the article. My suggestion – don’t read it. Click on the Listen button. Don't worry, it's only 5 minutes long. It’s especially important to listen to the very end.

Here is a description of the contributor:

Mel Rusnov is a civil engineer in Woodbury, Conn. Her love of music came from her father who played in a Croatian folk group and took her to concerts in their hometown of Cleveland. Rusnov also enjoys tutoring high school students in math.

An exerpt:

“I believe we are more than the inhabitants of our cubicles... I believe we are transformed and connected by the power and beauty of our creativity.”

My thoughts: At the end of the piece, they asked Ms. Rusnov if they could record her playing, and she obliged. I have heard this Mozart Sonata done by numerous masters. It’s one of my favorites. Ms. Rusnov is not an expert. Her timing is off and she clearly displays her amateur status here. Yet, why did I find myself crying? Go listen for yourself. It’s pure beauty.

While you are at it, head on over to Whiskeytown. He’s put up some original music, and it’s quite good. I’m no expert (I’ve only been playing guitar and singing for 34 years), but he’s got a soulful voice and a Seattle-esque quality that is part Neil Young and part Rob Lumbard (don’t worry – you’ve never heard of Rob Lumbard unless you live in Iowa, and that’s a crime).

I’m digging the harmonies. You will, too.

Drawing Dead

7 FEB 06

So, I TOTALLY fucked up date night last night.

For those of you who don’t quite appreciate the egregiousness of this offense, let me just say that this is the first time I’ve uttered a curse word on this here blog. Go ahead, search my archives. No cursing. Go ahead, I’ll wait…

See?

I left work with the intention of playing a little Hold ‘em before picking up the kids. No big deal – I’ve done this before. The dear and patient wife is usually not home until 6:30 or 7, so I have a little free time in the afternoons. Call it my reward for getting up every day at 4:30 in the ayem.

Well, what totally slipped my mind is that we had a babysitter all arranged to pick up the kiddos at daycare. My ONLY job here was to plan the date night festivities.

So, as I’m sitting at the 6/12 game at the Muckleshoot (bad beat jackpot is now over $200K), my pager goes off. It causes me to check my cell phone, and I realize that I have no reception. The page is my wife asking me to call her back. Of course, this means getting up from a very lucrative table, but I oblige. I have to walk all the way to the parking lot to get reception, a journey I would come to repeat 5 times over the next 45 minutes. No response at work or on the cell, and I leave two message before heading back to the tables.

I finally get through after multiple pages, text messages and calls – did you plan date night?

Shit. Totally slipped my mind.

I could lie at this point. I’ve got several really good stories that are an easy sell…

“Baby, I’d have called sooner, but we had another shooting, and they requested me by name to look at the CT scan.”

Or…

“Sorry hon, one of the surgeons asked for a second opinion on his wife’s mammogram. You understand, right?”

But, it’s awfully hard to sell when the floor announcer comes over the PA system and says “Dr. Chako, you want 10/20?” right when the dear and patient wife answers her cell - the ONE time reception actually gets through!!

Of course, I’d never lie to my wife (unless it was at the poker table).

And so, I offer this as my apology. I’m sorry. I was a shit. I won’t let it happen again.

The night ended well. We saw Mrs. Henderson Presents, and actually got a few good laughs. It was at the Grand Cinema, and artsy theater in Tacoma. They serve REAL BUTTER on their popcorn. It’s funnier because they actually serve it from a container marked, “For that Butter-y goodness.”

The night was summed up by one of the players at my 6/12 table. He lost a big pot when the river completed his straight, but also completed the other guy’s flush.

He said, “Damn. I was drawing dead, and got there.”

Guest Post!!

6 FEB 06

Today you are in for a treat. I present to you my first guest blogger, Dr. Bill. He’s shopping out this article he wrote about our excursion to the Old Course at St. Andrews, and it’s good stuff.

Enjoy.

St. Andrews on the Fly

At first it sounded like a great idea – a weekend with the fellas playing the oldest and most famous golf course in the world, trying haggis and 25-year old Scotch whisky, and seeing the spectacle of grown men in skirts. But aboard the flight to Scotland on a brisk and rainy early May day, I had second thoughts. What was I doing playing at this level? My pals minus one were accomplished, low-handicapped players. They had all the latest in cavity-backed, graphite, and titanium technology and the requisite high-end accoutrements that accompany the seasoned golfer. I who was raised on sun-parched community courses and played with hand-me-down ladies clubs until I was 14, toted low-end Dunlops and an ancient putter. Moreover, I hadn’t swung a club for over a year.

We arrived in Glasgow and rented a car to take us another 2 more hours to St Andrews where we were to then learn of our tee time – presently unknown based on the lottery system of bids, but presumably sometime the next day. The landscape was beautiful and raw. Brilliant yellow blossoms covered gorse thickets and dappled the slate gray horizon and brown earth with brilliant contrast. I had the leisure of enjoying the passing countyside while Tom, the other unpolished golfer nervously piloted the British-spec car from the passenger seat and along the wrong side of the road, narrowly missing curbs and parking meters. His perspective was off. I would soon discover that mine was too.

Arriving just before 2 PM, we were greeted urgently by the hotel owner who had submitted our foursome bid.

“You have ten minutes to make your tee time!”

After a 3-hour flight, 2-hour drive, and stiff with travel, there was no leisurely easing into our lodgings and grabbing a bite to eat. Instead we found ourselves racing to the clubhouse and scrambling to meet the Starter who stood in a crowd of waiting foursomes frowning and threatening a forfeiture of our tee-time. At the moment, I felt a flutter of relief. Generally good-natured and not minding being the source of a comic scene, somehow now appearing as an American hillbilly with laughable equipment, I didn’t want to be the seared memory of countless Scotsmen as “The Yankee clown who worm-burned his drive 30 yards off the tee box”. Our country already had enough negative press with the recent invasion of Iraq, and I didn’t want to feed the head-shaking judgment. But my relief was short-lived.

“We’re up!” said Chuck.

Rob was already on the tee. One after another, they all hit perfect drives. Then I, with a yellowing ball in hand mounted the tee, removed the moth-eaten head cover from my 3-wood, took one practice swing, and then stood tentatively over the ball. The drizzle was nearly horizontal and the raincoat flapped furiously against my sides. If I was a praying man, this was the time to summon the mercy of the Almighty. I had absolutely no feel for my swing. My arms felt like vestigial appendages lacking any functionality. I mechanically raised the club back with shaking confidence and concentration and then lunged.

Whack! The first fear gone in an instant. I had hit the ball solidly. There was no arm-jolting thud of turf and embarrassment or swoosh of pure air and a miss. I looked up to see the white pill rocketing straight down the middle of the fairway, somehow miraculously resisting my faithful hard slice.

“Nice shot,” said Rob as we picked up and moved toward our drives. I did have a guardian angel.

But the angel granted only so much. By the next shot, my old game was back. I duffed a couple fairway irons, sculled my approach across the fast moving green, and 3-putted after getting on in 5. It didn’t matter. We were playing St. Andrews, The Old Course.

Not intent on playing well, I was then able to enjoy walking the course. For those who don’t know St. Andrews, there are some characteristics that deserve mention. St. Andrews defined the game of golf. The naturally short grass became fairways and putting green, and the sheep created bunkers by burrowing into a rise to seek shelter from the elements. On television, one does not truly appreciate the bizarre undulating landscape that recalls the pock-marked Verdun battlefield or moguls of black-diamond ski trails. Blind shots from the fairway or story-high traps are frequent and meddlesome. To play St. Andrews without a caddy is like driving at night without headlights. Unlike where I caddied as a kid, these caddies were knowledgeable and essential. Our caddy was a colorful veteran who spoke plainly and with humor. He directed my better companions like a maestro, but knew better than to waste time with me. I got to know him better only after the round as we sat in the warm pub with pints of ale. But I wasn’t the only one who played badly. After a promising start, Tom contracted a bad case of the shanks which sent his balls frequently into impenetrable gorse – a brambly thicket impossible to traverse. At one time, a spectacular approach shank unleashed from him a torrent of colloquial references to intercourse and a 30-yard helicoptering of his pitching wedge. An unglued moment of frustration. But memorable. The iffy weather in Scotland is well-known, and in our case was true to form. All afternoon, the stiff off-shore wind sprayed icy drizzle on numb hands, and it fogged and speckled my eyeglasses. We could all blame our game on the weather. That was fine with me. As I recall the outing, I had only one other timely episode of Providential deliverance. On the Old Course at least, there are some putting greens that are shared with another hole. On one occasion we were tending our pin with another foursome tending a different one. What’s the etiquette in that case? They courteously stood by as I had honors, being naturally farthest from either pin. I belted my 100-ft putt over hill and dale, and by God, it looked like it was going to drop! Oohh, just lipped the cup. Much applause and ill-informed admiration from the other unsuspecting golfers. They didn’t know I was putting for a quadruple bogey.

By the famous 18th, even my feet were soaked and numb. I couldn’t feel my hands, and my glasses were so irretrievably fogged, I might as well have been playing without them. My last drive was such a spectacular slice that it threatened to loop around us like a boomerang. But it wasn’t just heading toward the busy street, it was heading for the upper floors of the buildings aligning it! I braced to listen for the tell-tale shatter of glass or cry of human impact, but I heard nothing. After we all hit, I walked sheepishly down my line of flight fully expecting to see carnage or an outraged, finger-wagging civilian approaching, but again, I had a pleasant surprise. My ball was propped innocently on short grass with a clear shot to the green. Evidently, I had played a bank shot.

In the end, my weekend at St. Andrews was as rich and memorable as I could’ve wanted. Over the next 48 hours, we laughed, we drank, we ate well, and we experienced a taste to relish of small town Scotland. My pals will remember their games which were more than respectable given the adverse conditions. But I think my most enduring memory will be that of my substandard equipment, my preposterously unpracticed game, and the worst tally I have accrued since I was 12 (I shot a 115). I was a Hack on the most famous golf course in the world, and I got away with it.

Nothing to See Here

2 FEB 06

Excuse me while I clean up this mess. I have to get soda out of my keyboard. You see, I just read this post, and the stuff just flew out my nose. If you go there, read my comment while you’re at it.

Thank you Lady Poker Player.

Wha??

1 FEB 06

This is not poker related, but I have to get it off my chest. I just had this conversation with my chief:

Chief: Dr. Chako, did you know that one of your soldiers is having an affair?

Me: No! It’s a good thing I’m relieving her for other reasons, eh?

Chief: Well, you’ll still probably get a letter of reprimand for allowing it to happen.

Me: Wha???

In other news, I’ve started to swing back to the “I’m getting out of the Army as soon as I can” philosophy. I wonder why?

Warning – Do NOT Scroll Down If You Have a Weak Stomach

31 JAN 06

I’m no Iggy, but I know a damn good photo when I see one. Please heed the warning in the title. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Here is the story:

An Australian sheep farmer was puzzled at the disappearance of sheep on his farm. After a few weeks of sheep disappearing the farmer decided to put up an electric fence. This is what he found!

Scroll Down for Photo...









Last chance to stop!!

"Only" a Super Geek

30 JAN 06

I am a Super Geek. What’s your score?

Time

27 JAN 06

How do you balance your time? Time to me is precious. I have many things that pull on my time, and I have always found a way to get everything done. I remember begging my dad for a few more hours of sleep when I was a teenager. If I could have been allowed to sleep for 9 or 10 hours a night, I would have been thrilled. In medical school, and, more specifically my internship, I learned to get by on 3 to 4 hours a night. I sustained that for a year. Now I’ve bumped that up to 5 hours a night. In fact, I really don’t like sleeping longer than that. If I get more than 6 hours, my back starts to hurt and I get all cranky. Even on the weekends, I often get up long before the rest of the family. It’s a great time of day – alone time. I surf the internet, play chess, and maybe watch a little TV. I stopped playing internet poker in the early morning because at 6 am here on the west coast, the only competition comes from Sweden, and those players are just too good.

As I mentioned in my last post, there is this little thing I'm going to start doing that promises to make me some good money. It may pull me away from poker, and I don’t know how to feel about it. I’m a little concerned that it may pull me away from family, but it’s something I can do before the kids come home from school and after they go to bed, so that’s not a big issue. My wife is a CPA, and I really don’t see her much this time of year anyway, so that shouldn’t be too bad.

I guess the real question is, how much are my hobbies worth? Can I put a dollar value on the time spent away from a sure (financial) thing?

How about you? Let say you have an expected return of 1 BB per hour at poker and you usually play 10/20. So, you expect to make 20 bucks an hour. If you could make $40 per hour at work during the time you were playing poker, would you still hit the casino? How about for $100 per hour? $300? More?

Why Do I Play Poker?

23 JAN 06

There are several authors that have addressed this issue. Good players should understand the motivations of the folks sitting across the felt if they want to maximize the amount of extractable money. So, what is my motivation?

Good question – made even better by recent events. You see, up until now, my motivation has been to make money. Pure and simple.

Here is the problem. Pretty soon, I will be guaranteed to lose money every time I play poker. Why, you ask? Have I decided to become an “official” donkey, instead of just an occasional donkey?

No. It’s not that simple. Please don’t think I’m complaining, because I realize how lucky I am. My problem is that I found away to make some serious money while sitting at home on my computer. Without gambling. The amount of money is so significant that I could never hope to get even close at the casino – even if I played 50/100 and won every time I went out.

So, I’m forced to ask – what is my new motivation for playing? I can no longer say it’s because of the money. Maybe just the competition will be enough. I hope so, because I really like playing, and I love winning.

Stay tuned.

78 thru 101

With great fanfare and eager anticipation, I give you the final installment of 101 things about me. As promised, I've included a picture of my kids at the bottom.

78. Science Fantasy is my favorite genre.
79. I have read nearly everything by Stephen King and Piers Anthony.
80. As I am typing this, my three year old son came into the room with his shirt over his head yelling, “I am the ghost of Hanukkah!!”
81. I played video games nearly every day as a child, and eventually worked in an arcade.
82. I once played a video game for 13 hours straight.
83. It was the only time in my life I had hallucinations.
84. My favorite movie of all time is The Princess Bride.
85. Dr. Chako is a childhood nickname. I used to wash dishes in an Italian restaurant and the immigrant workers called me Chako. One day, they asked me if I planned on washing dishes my whole life. I told them I was going to be a doctor someday. As a joke, they started calling me Dr. Chako, as in, “Hey, Dr. Chako. Go clean up the vomit by the cash register.”
86. I ended up working with a physician actually named Dr. Chacko. She was my boss.
87. She never found out about my nickname.
88. The first blog I ever read was The Drudge Report. I rarely check it anymore.
89. The first poker blog I read was Dr. Pauly. It’s still the first blog I read every day.
90. I am obsessive about my hobbies.
91. My hobbies have been video games, Dungeons & Dragons, running, racquetball, golf and poker.
92. Now that I play poker, all of my other hobbies have been sorely neglected.
93. I will play in the WSOP.
94. I absolutely cannot wait for the next WBPT.
95. My wife is a winning poker player.
96. My wife consistently scores higher than me on IQ tests.
97. Those last two items may be related.
98. My wife is a CPA.
99. I have not written a check or paid a bill in over 3 years.
100. I married up.
101. I have thought of at least four things that I cannot put on this list. My wife knows about all of them.

53 thru 77

53. I have lived in New York, South Carolina, Texas, Florida, Missouri, Iowa, Colorado, Georgia, Wuerzburg, Germany and Washington State.
54. I’ve been to 19 different foreign countries, including Canada, Mexico, Germany, Italy, Vatican City, France, Belgium, The Czech Republic, Poland, Spain, The Netherlands, Austria, Switzerland, England, Ireland, Scotland, Greenland, Jordan and Egypt.
55. My favorite city outside of the US is Prague, in the Czech Republic.
56. I have run two marathons. The best was the 2003 Paris Marathon.
57. The best way to see Paris, France is jogging for 26 miles around the city.
58. I drive a beautiful BMW convertible, but I look at Ferraris on eBay almost every day.
59. I have driven a Ferrari 360 Modena Spider with F1 paddle shifters. It was better than I thought it would be.
60. I used to own a Saturn.
61. I am an Osteopathic physician.
62. Those last two items are related.
63. I cried when I read this post, because it made me remember my mom’s death. I can’t remember the last time I cried.
64. I wanted to go to my 20th high school reunion just to rub my success in the face of at least 10 different people.
65. Just typing that embarrasses me.
66. I didn’t go.
67. The first girl I asked to my senior prom turned me down and ended up sitting at my table with her date, who happened to be her brother.
68. I had a woobie as a child. It was an NFL blanket with a satin border. I used to rub the satin between my index finger and middle finger for comfort.
69. I can’t resist the urge to rub clothing between my fingers when I walk through a department store.
70. I celebrated my 10th birthday in the hospital.
71. I have a 10 inch scar on my left flank. My dad has a matching scar on his right.
72. I have never tried cigarettes, pot or recreational drugs.
73. I used to pour out my beer at parties when no one was looking.
74. I developed a taste for single malt scotch when I was in Scotland.
75. I am intimidated by golfers that wear black gloves.
76. I am intimidated by anyone wearing a “doo-rag.”
77. I have only been intimidated at poker table once. It was the first time I played 10/20.

26 thru 52

Feel free to scroll down to my previous post for items 1 thru 25 of this epic "101 things about me" post.

26. I have correctly predicted every next president one year prior to the election.
27. My two Clinton predictions both got me thrown out of an Operating Room.
28. I am a losing poker player, but I believe I can turn it around this year.
29. I am tiltable.
30. I have only been playing poker seriously for 8 months.
31. I’m proud to say I was born in Brooklyn, NY even though we moved upstate when I was one year old.
32. I miss the Catskill Mountains in the fall.
33. My 8 year old son has my gift for numbers. When it was time for his friend to go home, my son had to tell his buddy his mom’s cell phone number.
34. The only job I was ever fired from is when I was a telemarketer. I was fired for taking off too much time from work.
35. I was interviewing for medical school at the time.
36. The telemarketing firm asked me to come back two days after they fired me because I was the most productive salesman for the month.
37. I don’t know what that says about me, but I don’t want to think about it.
38. My dad is blind. He’s had 3 heart attacks. He has diabetes and a host of other medical conditions.
39. My dad is not disabled.
40. I have been to invitation-only parties with P Diddy and Usher.
41. Me and my two buddies were the only white guys in the room.
42. Usher’s babes are better looking.
43. I do mammography, and I think I’m very good at it. I know I have saved dozen of lives by detecting breast cancer early enough to do something about it.
44. If I lose my license to practice medicine, it will be because of mammography. Up to 50% of breast cancers are visible on the prior mammogram.
45. I hate mammography.
46. One of my favorite anatomical locations is the gastrocnemosemimembranosus bursa. It’s behind the knee.
47. I do a finger trick where I do the Vulcan sign \\// with one hand and the “reversed Vulcan” \!!/ with the other, then I switch back and forth rapidly.
48. I had way too much free time as a kid.
49. I jumped out of an airplane with 95 pounds of gear in total darkness. Airborne!!
50. My chute did not deploy right away. I was too busy bicycling my legs for my life to flash before my eyes.
51. When the chute finally opened, I got the best view of the Hale-Bopp comet on the planet.
52. I believe in God.