Over the past year, we made 20 shows, recorded 16 Lock-In episodes, welcomed 91 guests + had to suffer the ignominy of losing to a ramshackle bunch of misfits known as @OnlyFriends_Pod.
This year, the community need to do the right thing + at least let us lose to @thinkingpoker.
@BillSimmons I tried it. for 5 minutes. I love your content so much I really wanted to give it a shot. maybe if edited down to 10 minutes total, or if you got to the "good part" faster it could have been ok. but there were just so much vacuous giggling over nothing by self involved people.
@Barry_Carter@daraokearney I am exactly your audience. serious amateur who wants this. I think we understand the word exploit by now. I have not spent time with solvers yet but I want some heuristic insights.
Beyond GTO: Slover Exploits Simplified
Beyond GTO: Poker Exploits Simplified
yw!
@sharkbaitboston@VanessaKade, I am told I have a type. If it's interesting women I can spend all day next to at the poker table, or the rest of my life with absolutely anywhere, then yuh!
Blonde girl wandering barefoot in Paris screaming into her phone
“DON’T GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT. YOU WERE LITERALLY BALLS DEEP IN HER ASS WHEN I CAME INTO THE ROOM” #VegasThings
Amateurs are impressive too:
The first year I quit my PokerNews job to try and go pro, my goal was to make as much money playing poker as I did at my job. The year was quite the adjustment because I was lackadaisical about effort, critical of results, and had unchecked imposter syndrome that stopped me from getting coaching for fear of revealing my weaknesses. So as the year ended and I faced the possibility of missing my goal, I became insecure. Who was I to think I could be a pro?
And so, during a particularly brutal cash-game session, I decided to run a massive, three-barrel, all-in bluff versus a gentleman wearing a freshly printed lanyard around his neck and a ballpoint pen in his pocket who’d recently showed the player next to him a picture of his daughters. He tanked the river and rubbed the stubble on his chin. I wanted him to fold so bad. Finally, he sighed and pushed his cards to the dealer.
Then, instantly, my bruised ego, the one that needed to prove I was good enough, shot through my body and into my fingers, grabbed my cards, turned them face up, and tossed them in his direction.
His face flushed, and he sank into his seat. Showing the bluff did not feel as good as I thought it would. Actually, the opposite. I felt terrible.
Luckily, I was doing a lot of work on myself at the time. I learned that I tended to care more about looking like I was good rather than actually being good. The more secure I became as a human being, the easier it was for me to learn, grind without expectation, and take appropriate risks. I exceeded my goal that year and continued to do so until I quit grinding full-time during the pandemic.
So, in the past three years, I’ve only played a handful of times. Now, I spend my days calculating toddler sleep schedules rather than pot odds. I’m deciphering baby babble rather than pio outputs. And I don’t have a “bankroll” anymore, per se. When I buy in, it’s just my family’s money.
The first hand I played in the Monster Stack, my hands shook as I attempted to shuffle my chips. Instead of that soothing interlocking climb between my fingers, the chips tumbled sideways. In the first level, I got into a big hand with a young kid in a hoodie. He overbet shoved the river and I wasn’t sure what to do. My mind felt dull, undoubtedly full of rust, unable to compute as quickly or accurately as I once could. I folded, and the kid stood up quickly, fist pounded, laughed and walked over to small crew of similar-looking players to retell the hand. I don’t speak Italian, but I’m pretty sure bluff is the same in English.
My cheeks burned and my stomach turned. What was I doing? What was I thinking I could play poker competitively again? I shuffled my chips again, but the chips slipped into place perfectly this time. I took a deep breath and sat up straighter. I play because I LOVE POKER.
In poker, it seems we glorify the professional, and having played for a living and married to Andrew, who’s played professionally for 20 yrs, yes, it is absolutely an impressive feat. All I’m saying is, isn’t it equally as impressive for an amateur to choose to test themselves against the best? To love a game so much, they are willing to throw themselves into the lion's den, risk their own hard-earned money or that of their friends who believe in them, and go up against the best? The ones who live and breathe poker?
So to the recreational player— maybe you spend your days sitting high in a cab, driving thousands of miles across the country. Maybe you grew up playing poker with your father, staying up late trading pennies, hoping not to wake up mom. Maybe it’s always been your dream to play a World Series of Poker Main Event, and now you’re here. You’re winning. However you decide to put your chips in or not, is perfectly ok. And if there is ever a “pro” who brags or makes comments, just know that they aren’t truly a professional. If you make a mistake, forgive yourself, and recognize that what you are doing is equally courageous, maybe even more so.
This is all stuff I’m telling myself :) Playing the Main Event tomorrow <3
@daraokearney if we aren't eating together then go with the herd sourced advice from people not with you. but if we are on for 6:45 eats, please don't dress in the left/orange one. it hurts the eyes 😁.