The Monkey Tilt

I haven't felt this way in a long, long time. My head feels hot, my pulse pounds in the side of my neck, and I've only unclenched my fists to type. It's official; I'm on crazy monkey tilt.

What happened?

I just finished an awful set of games. Absolutely horrendous. Playing seventeen games on my laptop, I only managed to cash in two of them. Two. And both times I finished third. Fantastic. All in all, I only dropped $250 but it's the empty feeling that I can't shake right now. I'm sure the fact that I just downed an energy drink has a lot to do with that. Anger fueled with caffeine? Not a good combination IMO.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh

Okay, okay. I'm better now. Just had to get that out of my system. Sometimes I forget about how weird some of the poker vernacular can be. For example, people look at me like an idiot when I use the phrase, "run goot" or "ldo." And I suppose that's fair.

As for "Monkey Tilt," I'm not sure entirely sure why they call it that. But while looking for a picture on google images, I did stumble across this:



Apparently, the "Monkey Tilt" is a carnival ride. Well that's nice. I'm glad the phrase has some positive connotation. I've always used it to refer to a nostril flaring, hair pulling, grunt filled rage. But as much as I hate to admit it, I can't help but smile when I stop to actually think about where the phrase might have came from.

In its purest forum, I imagine that "Monkey Tilt" got its name because it causes people to lose complete control, become so incensed, and thrash wildly about on a keyboard, without rhyme or rhythm. It's as if they've turned into a monkey.

The Blame

I wanted to blog about something today but unfortunately there isn't much to report. November hasn't been too kind.

Volume: I've only played 450 games. And we're already half way through the month. So I'm on pace for 900. Maybe 1000 if I can pick up the pace. I'm used to playing 2,500+ games each month so while 900 might seem like a lot, it's not up to my usual output. And unlike variance, I have to shoulder the blame here. My schedule allows me to play whenever I want. And instead of balancing poker with other activities on my social calender, for the most part, I've completely abandoned it. I'm simply choosing other things instead of poker. Over and over again. And with Thanksgiving on the horizon, I'll likely miss out on a few days worth of SNGs. Poor form, Aaron.

Results: Started out fine, actually. Continued to run at a decent clip ($2/game) for the first 300 games, but since then? Yuck. My last six sessions:

-$140.5
-$26.5
-$51
-$117
-$52
-$51

Six losing sessions in a row. Ouch. I told my friend about it today and he said, "Stop doing that." I'll try.

Instructional Videos: I haven't made a video in a while now. Doing most of my work from the laptop does have its disadvantages I suppose. But after I got my first PokerVT check in today's mail, I'll have to get back on that.

The Business Card

Fifteen whole days without an update? Holy crap, I am lazy. Of course, most people who read this blog already knew that about me. If you wanted more proof, I've yet to make a single video for PokerVT this month despite the incredibly high hourly wage and have only put in 250 or so games this month.

But I'm trying to be better. A few games are up and more are on the way as I write this sentence. And earlier in the week, I was rather productive -- productive for me, anyway. On Tuesday I made an trip to Kinkos* to print and fax a W-9 tax form to PokerVT so they could pay me.

*Actually, it wasn't Kinkos -- the store used to be Kinkos. Then it was bought out by Fedex and became Fedex Kinkos. And suddenly, without warning, they dropped the Kinkos name entirely. Why? I have no idea. Now they're known as Fedex Print Fax shop or something equally retarded. I've discussed this with a few friends and we all agree that dropping the Kinkos brand name was a rather poor business decision. Kinkos had created such a niche that their store had become synonomous with their product -- almost like how people now buy "kleenex" when they're actually looking for "tissue." /tangent

While I was in the Kinkos/Fedex/Whatever, I noticed a kiosk where I could design my own business cards. I didn't find any particular templates I liked, but the experience encouraged me to take a look when I returned home. I quickly found what I was looking for and ordered 100 of them. Needless to say, I'm pretty excited.

Front


Back

The Stretch

It's really not that big of a deal, I suppose.



150 games. No more than a blip. A flash in the pan, so to speak. And I didn't even lose that much money. 150 games, -$443. I've lost more than that before. Much more, actually. I've had individual days where I've dropped just under a grand, so I'm not too broken up about this recent run.

But still. I'm nowhere near angry or upset -- I'd call this mood "annoyed."

Not enough to scream or yell, but I've definitely been rolling my eyes quite a few times. Kings versus Aces again? Perfect. I lost another race? Standard. I missed a huge combo draw? Not surprised. Shoved blind on blind into a monster? Awesome.

Despite the small sample, things are good. I'm still on pace for 2,000 games and I'm at about 15% ROI for the month. On top of that, coaching is going swimmingly -- several clients lined up for instruction, eager to learn. And some of the most important things I teach is avoiding results oriented thinking. You have no control over the cards, only on your actions. Focus more on making the right decisions and less on how much money is in your account. In time, the former will take care of the latter.

The Rincon

Just got back from Harrah's Rincon Casino, located in "San Diego." I used quotations for a reason -- It's not really in San Diego. Oh, they say it is. They lie. It took my friend Brian and I about an hour and a half to get there. North San Diego? Please. Admittedly it would have taken less time if we hadn't have lost our way and ended up at Valley View Casino, but Google Maps still estimates the trip would take over an hour.

We finally got to Harrah's at about 1:30 and met up with a fellow 67-suited forum member, SilentRebel. He wanted to play Pai Gow, but was drunk and courteous enough to be persuaded into some $1/$2 NL. Perfect. I bought in with $200 and went to work.

First hand I picked up was AKs in early position. I raised to $9, and was called by an older Mexican man known as "Bobblehead." I don't know why he was called that, as his head didn't sway or bounce around, but I'll refer to him as such. The flop came KQ4, I bet $11 and he folded.

A few hands later, I looked down at QQ. I made it $9 again, and my friend Brian called on the button. To be honest, I didn't know what to think. While we didn't have an explicit agreement to softplay each other, he had to know that I was driving him home -- and I wouldn't be a happy camper if I got stacked. Everyone else folded, and the flop was KT8. Not great, but not horrible either. I c-bet $14, he called, and I went into shut down mode. He checked both streets behind me, and turned over Jacks. No good sir.

I proceeded to be dealt a variety of AQ/AJ type hands and used my low-limit cash game strategy.

1. Raise preflop, isolate limpers, c-bet flops
2. ???
3. Profit



It worked well, and I chipped up to about $260. In particular I targeted Bobblehead. Each time he limped, I isolated him. For the first few pots, he'd smile at me as he called, happily announce "check dark," I'd bet, and he'd fold. But as I continued to pick on him, I noticed a change in his demeanor. His eye contact lessened. His smile faded. He merely rapped the table instead of verbally announcing his dark check. He was getting frustrated.

Three players including Bobblehead limped in, and I found T7s on the button. Without hesitation, I raised to $12 and three players called. The flop came T83 with two diamonds. Not great, but I did catch top pair. It's actually the exact type of a flop that could get me in trouble. Two players checked to Bobblehead, and he placed an $11 bet on the table. I wasn't necessarily confident in my hand, but I figured that the small bet into a large pot meant weakness. And in addition, I wanted to protect my hand from the other two players in the pot. So I made it $26. The idea was that if I got check-raised by one of the other two guys, I could safely fold my hand. But they both folded. And when it got back to Bobblehead, he moved in pretty quickly. I hemmed and hawwed for a few seconds.

Me: How much more is it to me?
Dealer: $54

Math-wise, I was getting about 3-1. Still, 3-1 with top pair isn't that great, especially when it's a weak top pair. The board did happen to be draw heavy, so I thought Bobblehead could have a variety of straight/flush draws. But all of a sudden, I realized that his range was probably wider than I had earlier anticipated because of an overlooked factor -- I was the opponent. He had lost pot after pot against me, and likely was tired of folding medium strength hands to my aggression. I even said it out loud before I called.

Because of the image I've created, I actually think my hand is good here a decent amount of the time.

Bobblehead didn't flip up his cards when the dealer put out the turn (5 of diamonds) and river (Ace of hearts) but with the draw getting there along with random Ax hands, I thought I was beat. But to my surprise, he turned over 87o and my pair of tens with a seven kicker took down a $200+ pot.

Bobblehead and I battled once more, a few orbits later. Since my last encounter with him, I had dwindled a bit but still had roughly $300 in front of me.

He limped in again and I popped to $12 with JTo. Once again, he and two others made the call. Excellent flop for me, JT4 rainbow. Bobblehead was first to act and bet $28. He only had $40 or so left behind, which was pittance compared to the $400 stacks left to act. I really wanted some of the stacks to my left, but couldn't fathom how to go about doing it. Flatting the $28 on this board seems too dangerous, but raising might allow my opponents to much AJ/KJ type hands. Oh well, I didn't want to let anyone in cheap with some sort of open ended straight draw, so I raised to $85 total. An older man on my left hesitated before announcing his fold of King-Jack and Bobblehead put the rest of his money in. I showed my top two, and he mucked. Afterward, the older man tried to tell me how I should have played the hand. I simply smiled and counted the money.

Brian and I left shortly after SilentRebel did, and I ended the short excursion +$180. Easy game.

The Mother

I found out today that my mom reads my blog. Not surprising, I suppose, considering she makes quite an effort to stay involved in my life and such. However, I don't think I ever told her I had a blog, let alone the name of it -- but she found it, somehow. She also happened to stumble across my PokerVT Bio and told me that I am "much more handsome than the picture suggests." Thanks Mom!


If I looked like that, even I wouldn't touch myself. Just kidding, I still would.

My mom has always been a bit skeptical of my poker related interests. When I first started playing with friends, she didn't seem to mind much. But when I suggested I deposit money online to "see how good I truly am," she wasn't on board.

She feared my addictive personality would lead to a gambling problem. Or I would lose the money. Or I would win, but the poker site would keep the money. Or steal my identity. We can laugh about it now, but at the time, I don't blame her. There were (and still are) several myths surrounding online poker. Eventually I was able to convince her to let me give it a shot. I would deposit $100 and if I lost it, I wouldn't try again. One shot. One opportunity. Spaghetti spaghetti spaghetti.

A few years and thousands of dollars of profit later, my mom was a bit more accepting of the "whole poker thing." Still, she wasn't exactly thrilled when I suggested the idea of playing for a living. She was somewhat less hesitant when I explained I had a six month nest egg in case things went poorly and that poker was only a stop gap between undergrad and law school.

When I became disenchanted with law, the idea of playing poker for a living resurfaced. I hadn't officially quit school at that point, and called my mother up to talk to her about the situation. While she tried to be supportive, I could tell which direction she wanted me to lean. She had always thought I would be a lawyer. Truth be told, I did too. But after I told her my heart wasn't with the law, she understood. Although she was confident that I could do amazing things with a law degree, she didn't want to see her only son miserably drag himself to work day by unfulfilled day. I'm not even sure she's accepted the fact that I might do this forever (I haven't either), but if it makes me happy, she'll be in my corner.

The Trifecta

I used to have an awesome set up.

Although it looked a bit awkward, I had my desk in my living room -- right next to a beautiful 50-inch flat screen television set. So while I was playing SNGs, I could watch a ballgame or catch up on episodes of my favorite shows. Sometimes I'd even eat a sandwich as well. I felt like George Costanza on that episode of Seinfeld where he combines television, food, and sex into "the trifecta." Awesome show, highly reccomended.



But since then, I've moved into a new place. And my desk is downstairs, in the bedroom. The television remains upstairs, and I've yet to purchase a smaller version to put in my room. Because of this, I've often had to make the decision to work or play. Do I grind SNGs or watch television?

Recently, I've stumbled across an awesome idea. Plug the desktop mouse into my laptop and do both. For the last few days, I've been playing upstairs, in front of the television, on my laptop. Part of the reason I didn't want to play on my laptop in the first place was that I feared I'd miss out on volume. While the screen on my laptop is quite large, it can't handle more than 15 games at a time -- only 12 tile. But even though I'm only able to play half of the tables I'm used to, I'm putting in games at a decent clip thanks to playing continuously instead of in sets. 132 games today, and it doesn't even feel like I played for that long. Somewhere around 4-5 hours. In addition, my ROI is awesome. I've been averaging a hair under 20% for the entire month (1,000+ games).

The Bottom Line

Six whole days without an update? Unacceptable IMO.

Until Thursday, I had stuck with the game plan. 100+ SNGs per day during the week. But last night, I decided to hang out with friends and enjoy late night happy hour instead of putting in the time. Several cheap drinks later, I returned home in a mindset not conducive to optimal SNG play.

Today wasn't been much better. I've put in two sessions, but I'm still 40 games short of my daily goal. And it's already 3 AM.


3:16 to be exact

I don't think I'll be getting in another set today. I've got to be up by noon to coach and in addition, I know that I won't be getting much sleep this weekend. A few friends are coming down and my liver isn't too happy about it.

From purely a results standpoint, today was MUCH better than yesterday. After posting positive returns each day this month, I suffered my first set back on Thursday, losing about a buy-in. Not too bad for a losing day, mind you, but I'd certainly prefer to win. In contrast, today's totals are absolutely ridiculous.

62 games, 61% ROI, +$601

Unreal.

I'm trying to pinpoint any particular thing I'm doing differently this month, but to be honest, there isn't much to say except that I'm running better. My hands are holding up, I'm winning crucial pots, and I'm not constantly shipping blind versus blind into monsters. One new wrinkle this month is that I planned on playing mostly $16s. Funny thing is that I've struggled at the $16s the last few months and have actually been doing better at the higher levels. I'm not sure why. More regs, perhaps? Or I'm playing them on autopilot and not focusing enough? Meh. I don't know. It's probably just variance. But as you can see, short term runs (both good and bad) can have that effect on people -- even professionals second guess themselves from time to time.