#571 – Dispatches – Part II – Life on a Losing Streak

I’m trying to maintain some equilibrium in my life because, after all, results-oriented thinking should be discouraged in poker. The key is to play well all the time. The results will follow, but not always equal to the quality of your play.

That’s the theory, anyway. But results feel good – or bad. Getting aces cracked doesn’t pay any bills. In fact, for the most part I can’t even WRITE about losing the way I can about winning.

Here’s an example. I told my pal Marissa how bad I’ve been running. We both play the Turbo Fiddy most nights and often have a $15-last-longer bet. I’ve been her ATM machine lately, frequently busting out in the first few minutes based on some weird play by an opponent. I’ve taken to telling her, “My luck is so bad that if I opened a funeral parlor, no one would ever die.”

So what happens? We get end up at the same table one night and I make an initial raise with Ah-Jh, someone else moves all-in, and Marissa calls. I don’t feel I’m deep enough to fold so I call; the other player has Q-Q and Marissa has A-A. I make a flush and bust her. Think she wants to hear about the bad beat I took to finish just short of the money?

I don’t expect to elicit much sympathy, or any really. When I talk or write about losing at poker, I’m trying to understand it MYSELF as much as I’m trying to communicate it to anyone else. When I tell people that tournament poker is about failure, this is what I mean.

By all accounts, 2008 has been a “good” year for me as an online tournament poker player. According to OfficialPokerRankings.com, I’ve made over $100,000 on Full Tilt this year. But out of over 2,000 tournaments, if you subtract just THREE (wins in the Sunday Mulligan and $50,000 Guarantee and a third-place in the Sunday Brawl), I’m $10,000 underwater.

We all know that when only about 10% of the field gets paid, the other 90% are losers. Even if a player’s percentage was far above 10% – mine is 13-15%, though some tournaments pay more than 10% of the field – you’re almost always frustrated by the individual results.

But the numbers conspire, even when you’re winning, to make you feel more miserable. Out of 2,000 tournaments, where my net profit was $100,000, less than 1% – just 15 tournaments – accounted for $177,000. Even the 250-300 tournaments where I made the money were big disappointments other than those few.

That’s in a GOOD year. I’ve been running terribly in September and October. I’ve made the money, out of over 250 tournaments, less than 10% of the time and I’m currently on a negative $18,000 jag. The weird thing is that it always seems like it’s about to turn around, and then it feels worse when it doesn’t.

Two nights ago, in the Turbo Hundo, I was second in chips to my friend Mandy B with 10 players to go. I had played very solid and let Mandy get away with all the aggressive plays. I made a stand when Mandy raised in steal-position on my blind. I think she misclicked because the raise was huge. I knew I was taking a risk moving in with 3-3 because, even with a misclick, she was priced in to call and it was probably a coin flip. But the blinds and antes were huge and it would be a mistake to give up a coin flip with so much dead money in the pot.

It turned out that Mandy had A-3 with the ace of clubs. After 3-2 and 2-2, this was just about the best situation I could hope for. We were all-in, but it got even better when I flopped the case three for a set. Then the last two cards were clubs, to go with the two clubs on the flop, making a flush and busting me.

At the same time, I was playing the late-night $18,000 Guarantee and I went deep there, also with a lot of chips. With 14 players left, on consecutive hands I picked up A-K. I lost to T-T and A-Q and busted on the hand after that.

Naturally, I’m not telling you about the good luck I received on the way to getting into those positions. But good months and good years are made out of just a few good results. After two rotten months, both looked like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. In both cases, however, that light was an oncoming train.

Some good is coming of this. I truly believe you have to keep learning to succeed in poker. Although there are plenty of playing lessons still out there for me to learn and absorb, I think I’m reaching the part of my education where most of the lessons are about temperament. Things like honestly evaluating my play when I’m losing (both to make changes and to RESIST making changes), focusing on decisions over results, steering clear of being angry when bad players and bad plays succeed, reminding myself that I’m playing for ME and not critics on the rail or players who do better than me or to prove my ability to anyone else. Failure to learn those skills can cost me money just like folding a bad hand when I have the odds to call can cost me money. But they are HARD lessons, and contrary to human nature – my nature, at least.

So it is a wonder I’m having trouble paying bills and taxes, writing blogs, and getting my kids their immunizations?

I said I’d get to it all and I will. It’ll be a lot easier if I can surf a wave to a big win this weekend, but I’m getting to the point where, win or lose, I realize that life has to go on. Besides, I’m not working on any books. I’m stalled on my movie idea. I am, at best, on borrowed time with this blog and if I can’t pay my bills playing poker, I better do some fancy writing, and soon.

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