Two-Time Cover Boy
I'm an emotional poker player. To say that statement out loud at the Friday night game would illicit a chorus of laughter, for it's an obvious understatement. It's true, emotional control would definitely not be in my list of strengths at the table. But then again, I have no idea what traits *would* make that list anymore. So if I get pissed off when I get snapped in a hand, you'll forgive me for being a donkey.
The question is asked more and more, and I've never had an answer: What pro do you think you play like the most style-wise? I've never really had an answer. I thought maybe Layne Flack, but I've only seen one or two of his tournaments on TV. Watching the WSOP more and more though, I have to believe that the answer is Matusow... except with the actual skill part. The emotional part, that's definitely there. And the idea that joking around at the table is perfectly goddamn fine. The blow-ups? Yeah, I've done those before. Aggression? Got that down. I suppose it could be worse... I could identify with Shawn Sheikan.
And thus, my favorite moment in the broadcast so far has been the Mouth busting Sheik. The confident bet on the turn. Scott Lazar knocking the table, not needing to see Mike's cards, knowing the Sheik is about to be busted. And Matusow taking his cards and throwing them down on the table, serving Sheik exactly what's been coming to him for the last two days of play.
"NUTS!"
Arms raised in triumph, the crowd with him, and a river card that only matters to the graphics department at ESPN. Matusow has finally landed a deathblow to the little cockroach, and the satisfaction is sweet. Watching this scene play out, I'm with him all the way. An ending to their mini-rivalry that any screenwriter would shy away from in fear of being too cliche'd.
I've watched it 4 times this week.
Swing and a Miss
Viewing #4 of the Sheik bustout happened at the latest Murderer's Row game, as the cash game began to get going in earnest. I had sat down with a short stack of 25 dollars, not realizing how much eating out for lunch every day had shaved into my cash on hand before sitting down at the table.
I had Lance on my left. I got stuck there after being late to the start of the cash portion and finding the empty chair. It was the worst seat at the table (Henry was on the left of Lance, meaning more trouble) but I sat there just the same. If I can't deal with adjusting my game for two aggressive players in my blinds, I should just give up the game now.
I hate PL with a passion, but I play it because our group won't play anything else. Limit is boring, NL makes for too big of cash swings... which i disagree with, but understand the reasoning. However, it kills me when I get AQo on the button and I'm forced to only raise the pot instead of pushing all in.
Lance, of course, calls. My opening hand range is screwed down tight because I have to go into every hand assuming that if I raise, Lance is calling.
The flop comes KK3 and Lance bets the pot. My face twists into a pretzel.
"There's *NO* way you have the king," and I push in all my chips. Unfortunately, there's only 2 more dollars than Lance's bet, so the fold equity (if Lance ever has any) is pretty close to nil.
"No, I don't," Lance says, and he flips over what I thought he would bet with: middle pair, or 55 in this situation. The turn and the river do nothing, and I'm into rebuy mode.
"That's why I don't buy in for a shortstack," Henry says sagely. I stir in my seat, still early in what I was hoping to be a late night of poker.
"Anyone spot me? I'll transfer you online when I get home." Ephro throws me 50 and I'm back into the game, but not before the game is changed.
Columbine
Henry calls Columbine, and I have to get the rules again as they've been tweaked since the last time I'd played. It's a Hold'Em/Pineapple variant that works like this:
-Everyone dealt like in PL Hold'Em, 1-1 blinds
-For 3 extra dollars pre-flop, you get a 3rd card
-Discard one after the flop
-Play continues like PL Hold'em, though only half of the total "buy" chips count towards the pot when tabulating betting maximums.
The slightly-offensive name of the game comes from the familiar refrain heard pre-flop: "Call and buy". The game creates massive pots since it is very rare that someone doesn't pay the extra 3, and along with a pot-sized raise and multiple callers, you're guaranteed a monster chipstack to battle over. Thus, it's only a matter of time before someone leaves the apartment and comes back with firearms. Call me morbid, but it's amusing to think about.
Since I already don't like Crazy Pineapple, I hate this game too by association. There's certainly a whole different strategy to them, but having to pick between which primary draw to chase and choosing wrong is enough to get anyone into a pretty sour mood. Trying to put someone on a hand range is like Calculus. Assuming someone is bluffing is close to death. You can never feel good about a hand before the river.
I call-and-buy a few times when the pot size makes it neccessary, and Lance continues to raise the pot every time I do so. Once, Ephro on my right raises pot and buys, and I call along and buy as well, holding 22 and throwing 7 bucks in the pot.
"Raise and buy," Lance says, putting about 16 dollars in the pot. I slam my chips down on the table in a stack, making a noise much louder and jarring than I expected or hoped for. My 3rd card hasn't given me any real draws, and I'm forced to throw my hand away in utter disgust. Lance shows me AQ later to try and calm me down, but I'm stewing in my seat. I need to win a hand.
********************
"I ride myself real hard. Nobody rides himself harder than me. If I play bad, I can’t get it out of my system. I hate it when I play bad."
-Mike Matusow
********************
I had watched hand after hand go by where 5 people had limped and bought a 3rd card, and I was throwing away hands like 52o, J2, and 96. People were reccomending buying a 3rd card with any suited paint, and I was responding inside with the fact that wasn't even getting that. Lance and Katkin were running over the table, which, when one is feeling like they are playing solid and not catching, makes you feel sick inside.
I was dealt Kh 3c on the button when I decided to call-and buy. There was 2 limpers in front of me and generally people don't raise the pot after that because it becomes too big of a raise and it kills action. I was dealt my 3rd card, but I didn't look. I wanted to see the flop.
Lance limped along with, and Hank looked down at his cards in the big blind.
"Punish", Hank said, which by this point had become our new term for raising the pot after limpers. A small groan went around the table and I decided to look at my 3rd card.
Ac, to make Ac Kh 3c. Beauty. AK and a nut flush draw? I'll take it.
Ryan called Henry's raise, and I made my move.
"Punish, all in." I moved the rest of my chips, about 25 bucks, into the pot and Henry couldn't figure it out for a second. I'm the last person to limp-reraise in late position, so it was obvious that my 3rd card had given me a monster.
"Either you're making a dumb move or a great move," he said. I sat in silence.
But everyone was priced in, and I had Lance, Henry, and Ryan all in the hand.
I handed the cards to Ephro on my right.
"You're gonna have to deal this." He laughed and took the cards from me.
The flop came down 3 hearts, and I got a bittersweet lump in my throat. I'm up against 9 other cards in the deck, the odds of someone having the Ace is far too good. Everyone checked around and discarded, and I threw out the 3c to hold on to the King. The ace was meaningless.
The turn did nothing, and Lance checked. Henry checked, and Ryan started to chuckle as he checked. The idea of a Columbine hand getting past the turn without a bet was laughable. And yet, here we were.
And then the river: The Ace of hearts. A lump in my throat, staring at the 110 dollar pot in front of me.
"Who's got the king?" Bill Rini said from directly across the table. I do. I do. I've got the fucking NUTS. That's my pot.
Lance bet 25 dollars on the river, and figured him for a lower flush, or at least trying to represent it. It didn't affect my pot, but I giggled to myself. I was gonna be able to showdown against Lance. How perfect does this get?
Henry folded, and Ryan folded. And I paused for a moment, staring at the board. The lump in my throat had become huge, and having to sit still throughout the entire hand had been too much. The emotion burst out and I stood up, throwing my cards on the table.
"NUTS!" I shouted, throwing my cards down on the table. The King flew across and almost hit Bill square in the face after bouncing on the felt. I paused to look down at Lance, as if to say, please muck now, that's my pot you're keeping me from dragging.
Lance hesitated.
"Sorry dude."
He turned over.... a straight flush.
I checked the board again. It was 7TJ all hearts, and he had 89. He had fucking flopped it.
Everyone was in shock, and my face went white. Then the shouts of disbelief, and the laughter. My embarassment at my display. I turned away from the table, and walked out of the room, slamming the door. The laughter was at full peak at that point. I went to the bathroom, slammed the door, broke the doorknob, and went to go throw up. I wanted to get away from the other players, but their voices were clear as day, accompanied by the laugheter that continued on and off for the next five minutes.
"I can't believe that just happened."
"Is he slitting his wrists in there?"
"I know I would be."
"How big was that pot?!"
"I don't think I've ever seen such a-"
"I know!"
"Well, at least he'll be the first two-time cover boy of Bad Beat Magazine."
Bill earned the biggest laugh, and I leaned against the wall, my ego crushed and wanting to find a way to leave the apartment without being seen. I spent some time getting my head together while the game resumed in the other room.
"We gonna start?"
"Yeah, I doubt Chris is rebuying. There's no way I could sit at the table again if that happened to me."
I splashed some water on my face and somehow pulled my head out of my ass. My head was alright, and most of the tilt had drained away. My guilt was all in my actions after the hand, not the play of the hand itself. And somehow, that reasoning helped me find some sanity in the moment.
You've gotta find a better player to emulate than Matusow, dude.
That was my final thought before I reattached the doorknob and walked back into the living room.
I sat down on the couch at first, not really sure what to do. My reappearance got some of the chuckling going again, but it seemed more sympathy for my plight at this point. Lance apologized, and I accepted it, but I still couldn't look at him, and said as much without trying to be angry.
"You done?" Henry asked, and I said no.
"I got money online if anyone will spot me," I offered.
Henry wouldn't let me play, though. He'd seen me on tilt before and knew it was a bad idea. But I felt okay. Lance started to move me chips, but Henry cut him off.
"Dude, you're barred, no way."
I sat in silence for a bit, and chatted, finally, Henry realized I had my head on straight. He was even the guy that spot me.
I had 75 in front of me and played a few pots tight, all tilt amazingly gone. I was upset, but I wasn't playing differently. I laid down when I had nothing and never bluffed. I was just interested in figuring out how the hell to play the game.
I found AQo in MP and decided to get involved. Ryan limped and I made my move.
"Raise and Buy," I said, and threw 7 in the middle. I got a 2 of hearts to go along with my Qh, and had another strong flush draw hand in front of me. Ryan was the only caller and I was ready.
Flop: KQ2, 2 diamonds. Ryan discarded and bet 15 dollars. I threw out my ace and held onto 2 pair.
"Raise all in," I said. Ryan called immediately, and I knew I was toast.
"2 pair," I said calmly.
"Me too," Ryan responded.
"Shit!" I tossed up my Q2 and started asking for another deuce on the board.
But then, something weird happened. Henry caught it first.
"Two pair?" Henry said, looking over to Ryan. I shifted my gaze over. Ryan had just flipped over AQ. Ryan looked down.
"Aw FUCK," Ryan exclaimed. He'd discarded the wrong card, the king long since gone in the muck. Ryan looked at me, and I didn't know what to do.
"Karmic payback!" Henry shouted.
I had all my money in after a horrid night, and now I was stuck in a Morality play. We all knew Ryan had the king. He knew where it was in the muck and turned it over. But there were murmurs that if it was in the muck, it was dead, and that was the rule.
Besides, nobody was in the mood to take away the pot from me, I think. Hell, I still had to dodge an ace.
I stayed silent, feeling like shit, while Ryan watched his pot snatched away from him. I smiled meekly trying to offer some form of condolence, but the mix of being relieved to drag a huge pot washed over all of that.
"How much money did I just lose?" Ryan asked to nobody.
"That was a 126 dollar pot," Ephro said without hesitation. Ryan suddenly looked how I felt.
I stacked my chips and barely played for the rest of the night. I cashed out, paid back Henry his 75, and went home with my tail between my legs. I hopped online, transferred Ephro his money, went to 100NL, and won back all of it in 2 hands. I signed off with another hit-and-run and tried to get some sleep, thinking about how I played and needing to find some more control.
You may like The Mouth or think he's entertaining, but very few people ever dream of being the next Mike Matusow.
How many people stay up at night fearing it?
-Chris
The question is asked more and more, and I've never had an answer: What pro do you think you play like the most style-wise? I've never really had an answer. I thought maybe Layne Flack, but I've only seen one or two of his tournaments on TV. Watching the WSOP more and more though, I have to believe that the answer is Matusow... except with the actual skill part. The emotional part, that's definitely there. And the idea that joking around at the table is perfectly goddamn fine. The blow-ups? Yeah, I've done those before. Aggression? Got that down. I suppose it could be worse... I could identify with Shawn Sheikan.
And thus, my favorite moment in the broadcast so far has been the Mouth busting Sheik. The confident bet on the turn. Scott Lazar knocking the table, not needing to see Mike's cards, knowing the Sheik is about to be busted. And Matusow taking his cards and throwing them down on the table, serving Sheik exactly what's been coming to him for the last two days of play.
"NUTS!"
Arms raised in triumph, the crowd with him, and a river card that only matters to the graphics department at ESPN. Matusow has finally landed a deathblow to the little cockroach, and the satisfaction is sweet. Watching this scene play out, I'm with him all the way. An ending to their mini-rivalry that any screenwriter would shy away from in fear of being too cliche'd.
I've watched it 4 times this week.
Swing and a Miss
Viewing #4 of the Sheik bustout happened at the latest Murderer's Row game, as the cash game began to get going in earnest. I had sat down with a short stack of 25 dollars, not realizing how much eating out for lunch every day had shaved into my cash on hand before sitting down at the table.
I had Lance on my left. I got stuck there after being late to the start of the cash portion and finding the empty chair. It was the worst seat at the table (Henry was on the left of Lance, meaning more trouble) but I sat there just the same. If I can't deal with adjusting my game for two aggressive players in my blinds, I should just give up the game now.
I hate PL with a passion, but I play it because our group won't play anything else. Limit is boring, NL makes for too big of cash swings... which i disagree with, but understand the reasoning. However, it kills me when I get AQo on the button and I'm forced to only raise the pot instead of pushing all in.
Lance, of course, calls. My opening hand range is screwed down tight because I have to go into every hand assuming that if I raise, Lance is calling.
The flop comes KK3 and Lance bets the pot. My face twists into a pretzel.
"There's *NO* way you have the king," and I push in all my chips. Unfortunately, there's only 2 more dollars than Lance's bet, so the fold equity (if Lance ever has any) is pretty close to nil.
"No, I don't," Lance says, and he flips over what I thought he would bet with: middle pair, or 55 in this situation. The turn and the river do nothing, and I'm into rebuy mode.
"That's why I don't buy in for a shortstack," Henry says sagely. I stir in my seat, still early in what I was hoping to be a late night of poker.
"Anyone spot me? I'll transfer you online when I get home." Ephro throws me 50 and I'm back into the game, but not before the game is changed.
Columbine
Henry calls Columbine, and I have to get the rules again as they've been tweaked since the last time I'd played. It's a Hold'Em/Pineapple variant that works like this:
-Everyone dealt like in PL Hold'Em, 1-1 blinds
-For 3 extra dollars pre-flop, you get a 3rd card
-Discard one after the flop
-Play continues like PL Hold'em, though only half of the total "buy" chips count towards the pot when tabulating betting maximums.
The slightly-offensive name of the game comes from the familiar refrain heard pre-flop: "Call and buy". The game creates massive pots since it is very rare that someone doesn't pay the extra 3, and along with a pot-sized raise and multiple callers, you're guaranteed a monster chipstack to battle over. Thus, it's only a matter of time before someone leaves the apartment and comes back with firearms. Call me morbid, but it's amusing to think about.
Since I already don't like Crazy Pineapple, I hate this game too by association. There's certainly a whole different strategy to them, but having to pick between which primary draw to chase and choosing wrong is enough to get anyone into a pretty sour mood. Trying to put someone on a hand range is like Calculus. Assuming someone is bluffing is close to death. You can never feel good about a hand before the river.
I call-and-buy a few times when the pot size makes it neccessary, and Lance continues to raise the pot every time I do so. Once, Ephro on my right raises pot and buys, and I call along and buy as well, holding 22 and throwing 7 bucks in the pot.
"Raise and buy," Lance says, putting about 16 dollars in the pot. I slam my chips down on the table in a stack, making a noise much louder and jarring than I expected or hoped for. My 3rd card hasn't given me any real draws, and I'm forced to throw my hand away in utter disgust. Lance shows me AQ later to try and calm me down, but I'm stewing in my seat. I need to win a hand.
********************
"I ride myself real hard. Nobody rides himself harder than me. If I play bad, I can’t get it out of my system. I hate it when I play bad."
-Mike Matusow
********************
I had watched hand after hand go by where 5 people had limped and bought a 3rd card, and I was throwing away hands like 52o, J2, and 96. People were reccomending buying a 3rd card with any suited paint, and I was responding inside with the fact that wasn't even getting that. Lance and Katkin were running over the table, which, when one is feeling like they are playing solid and not catching, makes you feel sick inside.
I was dealt Kh 3c on the button when I decided to call-and buy. There was 2 limpers in front of me and generally people don't raise the pot after that because it becomes too big of a raise and it kills action. I was dealt my 3rd card, but I didn't look. I wanted to see the flop.
Lance limped along with, and Hank looked down at his cards in the big blind.
"Punish", Hank said, which by this point had become our new term for raising the pot after limpers. A small groan went around the table and I decided to look at my 3rd card.
Ac, to make Ac Kh 3c. Beauty. AK and a nut flush draw? I'll take it.
Ryan called Henry's raise, and I made my move.
"Punish, all in." I moved the rest of my chips, about 25 bucks, into the pot and Henry couldn't figure it out for a second. I'm the last person to limp-reraise in late position, so it was obvious that my 3rd card had given me a monster.
"Either you're making a dumb move or a great move," he said. I sat in silence.
But everyone was priced in, and I had Lance, Henry, and Ryan all in the hand.
I handed the cards to Ephro on my right.
"You're gonna have to deal this." He laughed and took the cards from me.
The flop came down 3 hearts, and I got a bittersweet lump in my throat. I'm up against 9 other cards in the deck, the odds of someone having the Ace is far too good. Everyone checked around and discarded, and I threw out the 3c to hold on to the King. The ace was meaningless.
The turn did nothing, and Lance checked. Henry checked, and Ryan started to chuckle as he checked. The idea of a Columbine hand getting past the turn without a bet was laughable. And yet, here we were.
And then the river: The Ace of hearts. A lump in my throat, staring at the 110 dollar pot in front of me.
"Who's got the king?" Bill Rini said from directly across the table. I do. I do. I've got the fucking NUTS. That's my pot.
Lance bet 25 dollars on the river, and figured him for a lower flush, or at least trying to represent it. It didn't affect my pot, but I giggled to myself. I was gonna be able to showdown against Lance. How perfect does this get?
Henry folded, and Ryan folded. And I paused for a moment, staring at the board. The lump in my throat had become huge, and having to sit still throughout the entire hand had been too much. The emotion burst out and I stood up, throwing my cards on the table.
"NUTS!" I shouted, throwing my cards down on the table. The King flew across and almost hit Bill square in the face after bouncing on the felt. I paused to look down at Lance, as if to say, please muck now, that's my pot you're keeping me from dragging.
Lance hesitated.
"Sorry dude."
He turned over.... a straight flush.
I checked the board again. It was 7TJ all hearts, and he had 89. He had fucking flopped it.
Everyone was in shock, and my face went white. Then the shouts of disbelief, and the laughter. My embarassment at my display. I turned away from the table, and walked out of the room, slamming the door. The laughter was at full peak at that point. I went to the bathroom, slammed the door, broke the doorknob, and went to go throw up. I wanted to get away from the other players, but their voices were clear as day, accompanied by the laugheter that continued on and off for the next five minutes.
"I can't believe that just happened."
"Is he slitting his wrists in there?"
"I know I would be."
"How big was that pot?!"
"I don't think I've ever seen such a-"
"I know!"
"Well, at least he'll be the first two-time cover boy of Bad Beat Magazine."
Bill earned the biggest laugh, and I leaned against the wall, my ego crushed and wanting to find a way to leave the apartment without being seen. I spent some time getting my head together while the game resumed in the other room.
"We gonna start?"
"Yeah, I doubt Chris is rebuying. There's no way I could sit at the table again if that happened to me."
I splashed some water on my face and somehow pulled my head out of my ass. My head was alright, and most of the tilt had drained away. My guilt was all in my actions after the hand, not the play of the hand itself. And somehow, that reasoning helped me find some sanity in the moment.
You've gotta find a better player to emulate than Matusow, dude.
That was my final thought before I reattached the doorknob and walked back into the living room.
I sat down on the couch at first, not really sure what to do. My reappearance got some of the chuckling going again, but it seemed more sympathy for my plight at this point. Lance apologized, and I accepted it, but I still couldn't look at him, and said as much without trying to be angry.
"You done?" Henry asked, and I said no.
"I got money online if anyone will spot me," I offered.
Henry wouldn't let me play, though. He'd seen me on tilt before and knew it was a bad idea. But I felt okay. Lance started to move me chips, but Henry cut him off.
"Dude, you're barred, no way."
I sat in silence for a bit, and chatted, finally, Henry realized I had my head on straight. He was even the guy that spot me.
I had 75 in front of me and played a few pots tight, all tilt amazingly gone. I was upset, but I wasn't playing differently. I laid down when I had nothing and never bluffed. I was just interested in figuring out how the hell to play the game.
I found AQo in MP and decided to get involved. Ryan limped and I made my move.
"Raise and Buy," I said, and threw 7 in the middle. I got a 2 of hearts to go along with my Qh, and had another strong flush draw hand in front of me. Ryan was the only caller and I was ready.
Flop: KQ2, 2 diamonds. Ryan discarded and bet 15 dollars. I threw out my ace and held onto 2 pair.
"Raise all in," I said. Ryan called immediately, and I knew I was toast.
"2 pair," I said calmly.
"Me too," Ryan responded.
"Shit!" I tossed up my Q2 and started asking for another deuce on the board.
But then, something weird happened. Henry caught it first.
"Two pair?" Henry said, looking over to Ryan. I shifted my gaze over. Ryan had just flipped over AQ. Ryan looked down.
"Aw FUCK," Ryan exclaimed. He'd discarded the wrong card, the king long since gone in the muck. Ryan looked at me, and I didn't know what to do.
"Karmic payback!" Henry shouted.
I had all my money in after a horrid night, and now I was stuck in a Morality play. We all knew Ryan had the king. He knew where it was in the muck and turned it over. But there were murmurs that if it was in the muck, it was dead, and that was the rule.
Besides, nobody was in the mood to take away the pot from me, I think. Hell, I still had to dodge an ace.
I stayed silent, feeling like shit, while Ryan watched his pot snatched away from him. I smiled meekly trying to offer some form of condolence, but the mix of being relieved to drag a huge pot washed over all of that.
"How much money did I just lose?" Ryan asked to nobody.
"That was a 126 dollar pot," Ephro said without hesitation. Ryan suddenly looked how I felt.
I stacked my chips and barely played for the rest of the night. I cashed out, paid back Henry his 75, and went home with my tail between my legs. I hopped online, transferred Ephro his money, went to 100NL, and won back all of it in 2 hands. I signed off with another hit-and-run and tried to get some sleep, thinking about how I played and needing to find some more control.
You may like The Mouth or think he's entertaining, but very few people ever dream of being the next Mike Matusow.
How many people stay up at night fearing it?
-Chris
posted by Chris Hanel at
3:41 AM
