This last year or so has been a bit of a rollercoaster poker wise for me. From the $2,000/$4,000 7-Game on Full Tilt to the $5 weekly League on Black Belt Poker, I’ve enjoyed the full spectrum of poker experiences. I’ve had weeks where I’ve won hundreds of thousands of dollars and single nights where I’ve lost similar amounts.
On paper, this last year looks like one of my best (first and second at WSOP, a WCOOP win, British Poker Award), but the reality is that I’ve had my worst year in three, maybe four years.
Recently, I’ve not played any nosebleed stakes. Partly because I self excluded myself for six months on Full Tilt the other day in an act of defiance, but mainly due to not being able get any type of run going at $25/50 or $50/100 to take a shot with the profits. Overall, the word that comes to mind to summarise this past year is ‘misery’ as I’ve struggled to adjust back down from the nosebleeds and bring my ‘A’ game to the table at the mid stake levels. So where did it all go wrong?
The year didn’t start too well it has to be said. I arrived at the Aussie Millions in January in high spirits. Over the Christmas period I’d managed to turn a $2,000 deposit into around $800,000. (Obviously, prior to this, I’d turned a lot of $2K investments into nothing). With a swollen Full Tilt account and a final table appearance in the Main Event from the previous year I, perhaps, in retrospect, arrived in Melbourne with a little too much swagger.
A few nights in and after a few too many at the players’ opening party, I nipped back to my hotel room to change my trainers to shoes (we were trying to get into the high rollers Mahogany Room). After turning the laptop on just to ‘check the action’, I somehow found myself in a $1,500/3,000 heads-up game with Cole South. Fuelled by alcohol and festival bravado, I started like a house on fire and totally ran over the game. After what only seemed like minutes I remember checking my account and seeing my balance was up to $1.2 million. This was great! I could rejoin the guys, wipe that smug look off Cole’s avatar (he’s actually a nice guy in real life) and freeroll in the high stakes live games for the rest of the trip with the $400,000 profit. Could life get any better?
At 2pm the following day, I was still wearing my trainers. Cole South had turned things around and was long gone, leaving David Oppenheim (in my opinion, perhaps the best H.O.R.S.E. player out there, particularly the Stud rounds) to deliver the final few blows. When the dust finally settled, I checked my balance and it was less than $100,000. I’d managed a $1.1 million downswing in about 10 hours. It had seemed that the more sober I got, the quicker I lost.
Later that evening, I sheepishly wandered down to the Crown cardroom expecting the normal ribbing that often follows a loss made public by the online tracking sites. Instead, I received an oddly subdued reception from the cash game players as they exchanged knowing looks. I’d really f***ed up here. I remember winning $8,000 in the $25/50 PLO live game a few hours later and feeling strangely worse. Perhaps this relatively minute win only served to highlight the enormity of the previous night’s loss.
That was last January and I’m hoping to start 2011 with a slightly more measured approach when I head back to Melbourne in the New Year. The problem is that there’s something about festivals and Australia in particular that brings out the gambler in me. It’s one of those places where something always seems to happen. I think it started back in 2003 when I got involved in a pot with local celebrity Billy the Croc. The game was $300/600 Limit Omaha high and I’d flopped a flush draw on an A-7-7 board holding K-K-6-6. I got rather excited when the 6h peeled off on the turn and even more so when the 6c hit the river. As his aces full hit the muck I remember thinking I could get used to it out here.
I wasn’t wrong. In January I’ll be returning to the Aussie Millions for the ninth year running. This time I’ll be with a group of young and dynamic Black Belt Poker players. Neil Channing is also coming.
It’ll be a new experience being part of a team. I’ll be on hand to offer the Black Belt pros advice on who to play, who not to play, and who to stay on the right side of. I’m hoping one of them will remind me to wear my shoes to the opening party.