Barcelona Rocks!

OK... that's a lame title. I know. But, it's kind of appropriate because this is a really cool city.

Paula and I spent our first full day here... much of it on what turned out to be a lame bus tour, and found that there's just so much of this city to see that you can't do it in a few days.

It seems like within in minutes you can go from the shores of the Mediterranean to the mountains or anywhere in between. The architecture is an amazing of really old buildings and really modern stuff that somehow works. The sidewalks are jammed with people and all sorts of cool shops, stands, and street performers.

Once off the bus, Paula and I spent a couple of hours wandering around the zoo, which is located almost in the heart of the city. It's really more of a big park with animals hanging out. In fact, at many of the displays - the monkeys especially - we couldn't figure out what was keeping them in their habitat aside from the collection of toys they had to play with and the free food. I mean, it looked like they could jump right over the rail and free run of the place. I'll try to post some pictures so you can get a sense of the place, since I'm sure I'm not doing it justice.

Another nice thing about this city - the food is good, which is especially nice after spending the past few months in Dublin where it's decidedly not. Dinner tonight was a really nice paella, followed by amazing gelato from a sidewalk stand, and then a night cap in the hotel bar. Not a bad way to end a day, if I do say so myself.

Speaking of which - I'm done for now. I'll be back later with stories, pictures and whatnot. Until then... Happy New Year.

Closed for the Holidays

It's December 26th, which means... well, not a lot for those of you reading this from the States. Here in Dublin, however, today is St. Stephen's Day, which means... well, it's another day when everything in town is closed. And by everything, I mean everything.

As you may have surmised, I stayed in town over the holiday weekend and I have to say, I've never seen a place shut down so completely. Stores were closed, which is a given, but there wasn't anyone on the streets. It was like a ghost town. Even the homeless panhandlers packed up their stuff and left for greener pastures.

Walking around the city over the past two days was one of the strangest experiences I've ever had. In the states, you can always find someone out and about, and can always count on a 7-11 or Store 24 being open to provide you with those last minute essentials you need. But here, that's not the case.

What was even more amazing than the last two days, however, was Saturday night. My buddy Ernest and I went out to Temple Bar to grab a couple of pints since neither of us had any other plans for the evening. Now, Temple Bar is always jam packed. I've never been there when you didn't have to push through the drunken crowds in order to get into one of the hundreds of completely packed pubs. It's a fun time, if you're in the right mood.

But on Saturday, even Temple Bar was quiet. The Porterhouse, a local joint that features great beer and live music, was essentially empty. There were maybe 30 people in the whole five-story pub, and the only tunes were the best of '80's hits being pumped through the sound system. All in all, not the most exciting night I've spent on the town.

Speaking of nights out, I'm sure I'll have few better ones in the coming days, as I'm meeting my sister Paula in Barcelona for New Year's. Hopefully, I'll remember to post.

When Not to Play

I’ve been playing a lot of live poker lately and for awhile, things were going extremely well. It’s not that every session was a winning one, but I was certainly winning much more than I was losing, and my bankroll was swelling nicely.

Of course, being on something of a rush I thought – as many of us do – that my game was dialed in. I knew the people I was playing against, my strategies were working, and I was in the zone. So, I did what any reasonable player would – I took a shot.

For me, this meant playing a $250 tourney with a $250 re-buy. As someone who’d never played anything greater than a $100 buy-in event, this was a huge leap up the ladder but I was feeling confident. Cocky, even.

And yeah, I didn’t even come close to seeing the money. I won’t go into details and I won’t make excuses but, after a few hours of play, I busted out just about dead center in the event. And that’s where my lesson started.

After busting, I didn’t really take any time to think about my play. I was hyped on adrenaline – and tilt – and all I could really think about was getting into a cash game to win my buy-in back. I mean, really, it couldn’t be that hard. I’d taken hundreds of dollars out of this game on a regular basis, I could do it again.

Except that, I couldn’t.

I bought in for about $150, and promptly donked that away in a few orbits. So, I decided to chase that money with yet another buy-in, which also vanished in fairly short order. Finally, when I was down to my last $20, I got up, walked away, and drowned my miserable day in a couple of pints.

Looking back now, I can see the events of that day much more clearly, and I better understand what caused me to blow away so much of my hard-earned bankroll. In short, I was playing scared.

I had built a bankroll that I was comfortable with… one that would allow me to buy into my regular tournaments and cash games without feeling strapped, and when I lost $500 of it on “a shot,” I suddenly felt crippled. I was relying on having that money behind me as an insurance policy. If I had a bad couple of orbits or didn’t cash in a couple of tournaments, I was OK, because I had plenty of cash to fall back on.

Except that, I didn’t anymore.

When I hit the cash game following my tournament exit, I wasn’t thinking clearly. In fact, I probably wasn’t even thinking at all. I was on auto-pilot and I had one goal; win it back. But, because I was so frazzled and shaken, I couldn’t fully concentrate on what was going on around me or who I was playing with, and I was simply another easy mark at the table.

What’s more, the consequences of losing additional cash following the tournament stayed with me for weeks. I hit a bad run all because I was feeling pressured to get back to where I had started.

So what happened next? I took a couple of weeks off. I stayed away from the cardroom, and didn’t look at poker table. I let my head settle, got more comfortable with current size of my bankroll, and started from scratch. And I played better.

Which brings me to this; there’s another time when it’s best to step away from the game, even if you may not realize it. When you think all you can do is lose.

For example, I was sitting back in a particularly juicy cash game the other night and had gone on quite a run – up nearly $1,000 in a $1-$2 game. I had a huge pile of chips in front of me, and was amazed at my good fortune. Things were great. I was on top of the world. I could run over the table as much as I wanted.

Except for one thing - I was scared.

I realized that after working so hard to accumulate all of those chips, I didn’t want to put them at risk. I was laying down very playable hands – against very playable competition – because I was afraid I’d take a bad beat or just overplay a hand that I shouldn’t. I tightened up, and the game no longer felt fun or easy. So, I did the smart thing – I waited for an opportune time, and walked away.

I had made plenty of money and had nothing left to prove at the table. Sure, I could have won even more had I stayed, but I wasn’t feeling comfortable anymore. Considering where my thought process was headed, I’m convinced it was the right move. I had nothing left to prove and felt like I had everything to lose.

I was up – a lot, and I was happy. What more could I ask for? In the end, I decided the answer was “nothing.”

Well, except for a couple of celebratory pints, of course.

Quick Impressions

Amsterdam is a strange city, and I'm not wholly sure I like it.

On the plus side, it's got a strong sense of history, culture,and a casual attitude toward drugs and sex that is completely unlike anything I've experienced before.

On the other hand, there's also a sense of - I don't know, menace, perhaps, lurking just below the surface. I mean, I've spent a lot of time in a lot of different cities, but it's been very rare that I've felt as on edge as I did wandering through the Red Light disrict Saturday night. And that was with a group of six or seven other people. I mean, it felt like you could get the shit beat out of you just for looking at someone a little funny.

Like I said - these are quick impressions, but they're all I've got so far.

Amsterdamage '06

I'm sitting at Dublin Airport with Oz waiting for my flight to Amstersdam. Even better - I'm posting from my Blackberry.

I'm not sure what to expect from this weekend, but mayhem seems likely. I'll try to remember/document as much as possible (or reasonable), but can't promise too much. Still, there should be entertainment value.

Let the Amsterdamage begin...