The Leak

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You know what’s funny about my last rant? I wrote it in a fury, as though I’m some kind of online poker pro who’s been stripped of the ability to make a living and now my family and I are starving. I'm so far from being a pro, it’s laughable.

I say that because if you look at my poker stats, I’m not a winning player.  In fact, before 2010, my typical online pokering consisted of me regularly depositing a recreational amount I could afford to lose and either re-depositing once I went broke or hitting a small score and playing off that until I went broke again. 

It's only been in the past year and a half that I was able to withdraw from an online site. The amount was never a lot, but I did it because that’s what I was learning to do from my study on bankroll management. Before learning about BR management, I’d go crazy replenishing the account. So while my game has improved, the truth is, I’ve spent more money on this game than I’ve earned.

I started playing online poker in 2004, and I played off and on through 2007. In 2009, I started playing a lot. Like, every night to the wee hours of the morning a lot. In 2010, I finally started seeing a profit. We’re talking a 6% profit at the micro level. That’s five years of being a losing recreational player.

That’s hard for me to admit. Because – five years. That’s a long time. In four years, people finish college. In three years, I completed law school. F-i-v-e l-o-n-g y-e-a-r-s.  

Dwelling on that realization is uncomfortable because it causes me to face a fear I struggle with a lot - the fear that I'm not a good player.

When people find out I like to play poker, they often ask about the game. I generally respond with, “it’s an easy game to play but a hard game to master and I love it.” When I think about it, the adage tells them nothing about the game unless they play and experience the truth of it for themselves. My 5 years of playing without profit is evidence of that.

During those years, I didn’t watch videos. I didn’t read books. I didn’t scour poker forums. I didn’t follow pros on Twitter. Instead, I played when I felt like it. Often while watching TV. It was fun - a way to pass some down time in the evening and compete.

In late 2009, that changed. I suppose there are plenty who might read this and think, “wth? What took you so long?!” I agree, but for better or worse, it’s my history with this game and I can’t change it. 

Once I realized there were tools and I started using them, I started seeing improvement. And that changed everything.

After Saturday night, though, I realize I’ve just not come as far as I thought.

If I could define the leak in my game in one word, it would have to be: discipline (or lack thereof). I wanted to write something funny, catchy, but the truth is that my lack of discipline is pitiful. If I can’t tame myself, I really need to just admit I'm a recreational player and either stop playing altogether or accept my faults and play the game armed with that self-knowledge.

Here’s how Saturday night went down:

I hadn’t played with my boys in three months. I hadn’t played poker in nearly two months (save one $35 freeze out tourney with the girls at @txcardslingers place). I showed up, got and gave my hellos and welcome hugs, and sat down to play with my $200 buy-in. And for two hours, I folded every hand but two. At the end of two hours, I had a ~$45 profit.

Then, I went on a bit of a run. With 5s and position, I got Qs to fold a large pot. After another hour or two, I was sitting in front of a $575 stack and it was about that time that two of my favorites, having a poor night, got up to leave. Instead of leaving, I started playing around on Twitter and had a shot with a new face at the table, in honor of the birthday boy on my left.

I was laughing and talking more, and began calling behind in family pots where before I'd fold. Gradually, my stack was shrinking.

By 3:00 a.m., we're down to two tables and one of the guys from the other room, whom I just don't like, sat immediately to my right. He played a few hands and then moved three seats to my left. The birthday boy and shooter were on their fifth shot and I was laughing with them. I wasn't drinking, but I was still calling behind and playing hands I knew I shouldn’t play.

After a few more orbits, I found myself sitting in front of a $375 stack and I was fuming. It wasn't the money...it was the self-loathing rising up, I’d stayed too long and I knew it.

I look around and we're 7-handed. There were no more familiar faces, save the prick three seats to my left. I don't tangle with him in pots, but I wrestle with him internally because his very being…well, it gets under my skin. The hands he plays and wins with, the comments he makes after taking down a pot, the way he talks when he’s NOT in a hand: calling for a K when two other players are heads up (KJo v JJs) and saying, “this is the winning hand!” before the cards are dealt and, sure enough, the K flops. He tilts me (more specifically, I tilt myself thinking on it because he’s just being himself and playing his game).

Before you know it, I'm chasing a flush draw on the flop and losing it all to Ks. And I'm going home at 5 o’clock in the morning, empty handed, four hours after the time I should’ve stood up and gone home, with a profit.

Gross.

I was so mad at myself I could hardly speak. I was so mad at myself I was shaking. I was so mad myself I nearly threw my phone through the back windshield of my car walking up to it. I was so mad at myself I probably damaged my transmission when I started the car, put my foot on the brake, and pulled the lever back and forth and back and forth and back and forth from park to drive three times as hard as I could. I was so mad at myself.

I know better. But if I can’t take knowledge and translate it into disciplined action, I will never be a winning player.

That’s the sad truth about the state of my game and my ability. And that’s why my rant from this weekend is funny…in the bitter, “ha, ha, oh I get it! The joke’s on me!” kind of way.

So funny, I can’t stop laughing…because if I do, I’ll cry.

EDIT 9/6 - Might find some things in this post to help with discipline/leakage: DISCIPLINE IS HARD….

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