The Hate

I had one of those "I hate poker and I hate poker players" days yesterday.

I've been building up to longer sessions lately at this place near the apartment called Silverton. They claim they're a "locals" casino and sure enough, it's a nice place with a great aquarium and a Mexican restaurant that has become a habit for me. Their theme is outdoorsy/lodge-life. Anyway they have a little 4-table poker room tucked away that mostly runs 3/6 limit, 2 tournaments a day and an evening 1/2 no-limit game. My first several days there I killed the 3/6 game. The play was terrible -- passive callers that would pay me off whenever I had a hand. The flip side of that environment was what went on yesterday; the passive callers kept hitting their miracle card on the turn and river. I've never seen so many people that call with bottom pair trying to hit trips or two pair. I'm glad for the action long-term but in that short window I became sour and nearly disgusted after a 6 hour session. I "rescued" myself by going to dinner at the Mi Casa restaurant and wolfing down three mahi tacos.

I guess the lesson there is more of a reminder. One pair isn't all that great a hand if you're ahead. You're not ahead by much. Thinking back to the session, I don't think I made one set yesterday, and sets, straights and flushes get paid off in that game handsomely.