Bellagio 5 Diamond Episode 1

Here are my comments from the 1st episode of the televised WPT Bellagio final table I played in December 2015. If it ever gets uploaded online, I'll link to it.

Hand #1: I have ATo, Bill has KQs

This fold is standard. I'm a bit fortunate I wasn't dealt AJ or even AQ/99/TT as it's possible I would've hero-folded. I'm not sure if the jam is winning given how tight I'm opening with a bullyable stack(I considered open-folding ATo as is), and even if it is, calling is certainly more profitable. Though, if you have the image Bill had at that point, 2 blockers to good hands, and I'm making the ridiculous folds above, it gets better.

I played with Bill for 2 days prior to this where he was playing extremely tight and being the fourth hand of the day, I had not realized that Matt Stout had started coaching him yet.

Once I started to figure out this was happening, I began to imagine the conversations that were taking place between the two and even brainstormed with my friends on what adjustments he could be making. Some were obvious.

It's possible he coached him to raise to 2.5x big blinds preflop, but I would also not be surprised if Matt told him to make it whatever size I was(I'm kind of a trendsetter). It didn't take long for me to assume that Bill was going to defend his big blind more liberally, which is something I would expect a coach to be able to fix quickly. It was as important to guess what he couldn't learn in a short time frame - I wouldn't expect him to be able to learn when to bluff-catch multiple streets with marginal holdings.

It's interesting that the most useful generic piece of advice you could give to Bill is to "play looser," but this can backfire heavily. Playing tight and leaving money on the table is still much better than punting. This is true in all scenarios, but much more punishing at a final table where ICM(payjumps) is in play. There are situations at a final table where it's also correct to play incredibly tight too, so having a student play looser can lead to abysmal results.

Hand #2: I have A6s, Bill has KQs

I'm off by a pip, though I think this simulation is wrong by being too tight for reasons I won't discuss.

A bigger concern is whether I think Bill is tighter than this range. Given that I could see his coach telling him to open jam hands under 15 blinds, Cate appearing to play snug, and this being a much tighter range than usual(button should jam 34.2% of hands here in winner-take-all), it's a reasonable estimate.

I used to beat myself up whenever I made a wrong decision, no matter how small an error, but now I'm pleased knowing I'm close to the robots whenever I have to think extensively in a shovebot situation.

Hand #3: I have AJs, Kevin has A5o

I have multiple options here preflop. Going all-in on 25 blinds would normally be reasonable, but ICM is heavily in play, and I would not have guessed that A5o was in Kevin's opening range. Even though Cate seemed to be underdefending her big blind, his stack is still bullyable by Jake. On 73 blinds, it's possible his plan was to 4-bet bluff a 3-bet by Jake with an ace blocker and not much room for Jake to call, but the hand is too weak for that. Getting flatted by Jake when holding A5o out of position is a pretty big nightmare too.

I expected Kevin to have a normal opening range or be a pip tighter, and was wrong. If I knew, I would have gone all-in.

This is also a reasonable spot to 3-bet bluff, but my hand is too good to get blown off by a 4-bet all-in, where I would have to have an extremely tight range to call off. I can probably only 3bet/call profitably with QQ+ and I wouldn't be that surprised if the dream machine told me it was actually KK+, so I shouldn't have many bluffs either. Considering all this, I elected to call.

On the turn, I might normally bet 2 streets, but chose to check to further reduce variance. It should be somewhat transparent that my preflop range is tight here out-of-position at these stack depths, so it's possible I'm not getting paid-off by much in betting twice. I played this hand like a coward and am damn proud of it.

What you didn't see:

I know that the television industry films a ton of content and then edits heavily so a lot gets left out, but was still surprised at some footage that didn't make the cut.

"I don't think that would have ended well." -@Jake11291
"NO IT WOULD NOT... but it would have made for some amazing television." -@catehall

— Ben Yu (@benyupoker) December 19, 2015

At the beginning of the final table, I showed Cate this text that Lauren sent me, read it aloud and it was all filmed. I can see why they didn't show it as it breaks the fourth wall and is a bit of an unaccessible inside-joke that requires some background in poker Twitter.

This is a good illustration that people are capable of seeing/creating humor about being marginalized. "Can't you take a joke?" is common defense used to backup misogynistic behavior. Yes, they can(not that they should have to), but I often hear from women that the jokes usually aren't that funny, and that they've heard some of them numerous times. Once you strip away the cleverness, it really is just annoying at best, harassment at worst.

Pressure

I was interviewed on day 5 on whether I felt any pressure given the stakes and situation, and responded with a long rant:

Athletes and poker players are often asked about whether they feel pressure in high-leverage/$$$ situations and usually lie or deflect the question. They do this because the media portrays it as all-or-nothing. Either you were CLUTCH or you melted down under the lights, when that's a poor representation of what's going on.

My interior monologue in tense situations often looks something like this: "I have king-queen suited in the high jack, this is an open. *raises to 2 million, the small blind 3bets to 5.5 million* Oh man, this could be a big pot. I have 40 million and he covers me so we're playing 50 big blinds effective. Calling is a bit under 10% of my stack, my hand is good enough to call. *calls* Oh man, it'd really be nice to flop well here. There's a bit more than 12 million in there now, so the stack-to-pot ratio is 4, that's roughly 3 half pot bets...

Distractions and desires weave in-and-out of my thought-train, but for the most part I'm grounded in logic. I used to try my best to prevent diversions from entering my consciousness, but now I acknowledge them, let them pass, and go back to thinking. In contrast, I feel like the media depicts it as "OMG SO MUCH $$$ IM GOING TO PUNT!" perhaps because my characterization of it is too nuanced.

So yes, I feel pressure. I'm emotionally attached to the tournament as the adrenaline pulses through my body. I'm going to be devastated if I bust. But I just continue to sit there and play as well as I'm capable of.

I might comment on episodes 2 and 3, but we'll see. WSOP is still in full swing - fatigue is starting to kick in, but for the most part, I'm still excited to battle and go on adventures with my friends everyday.

High School and Middle School

Last night, I roamed the streets of LA with a friend of 17 years and a Reese's peanut butter cup donut. We talked about high school and middle school, covering everything - friends, teachers, relationships, family, health, good times, regrets, and very random memories.
I would guess I do this less often than others as I don't regularly interact with anyone from this part of my life. I also have this theory about friendships from the past - it's fun to reminisce, but if you do not make new memories your friendship will inevitably die. This is why when I reconnect, I ask people to take me to an activity they currently do.

Unrelated, a month and a half ago, I woke up after a particularly interesting day with the thought "how the fuck did my life get to this exact moment?" and I wasn't even considering how distant many of these memories are. Thinking about them now, the contrast is even greater.

There isn't really a point to any of this and all of a sudden it was over, today I'm back to playing a tournament at the Bicycle casino and in a few days I will no longer be in the city I grew up in.

The Official Rules of Hanabi Magic

Hanabi is a cooperative card game where you can see other player's cards, but not your own. It is badass. If you have not played it, you are a terrible human being.

Hanabi Magic is a game designed by Alexander Hayne between two teams of two. Each team has a player and a clue-giver. It is similarly badass.

Rules:

A normal game of Magic The Gathering is played, except each team's player cannot see their own hand. The team's player should not know the contents of her deck. All three other players in the game may see the player's hand.

Clue-giving:

• The clue-giver decides how to mulligan, scry, or search their team's library.
• At the end of a player's draw phase, the active team's clue-giver may give his player a clue.
• Clues given must follow Hanabi rules (ie. You must name all cards of whatever clue you are describing and in order)
• Clues may refer to converted mana cost, color, type, subtype, power, or toughness. (e.g. "Your first, third, and fifteenth cards are Jellyfish")
• A player must tap mana first, then announce they are playing a spell, and may finally look at the card. If the spell has targets, the target is chosen after the player has seen the spell.
• If a player plays a card that cannot be cast(because of insufficient mana) or has no legal target, it is countered upon resolution.

Hanabi Holdem coming soon!

Storytime from my 2014 World Series of Poker

(The 2015 WSOP schedule is officially out. Going over my potential schedule yesterday evoked my favorite memories of last year's WSOP and this piece I wrote for Cardplayer Magazine reflecting on it)

I am writing this article after having spent the day battling writer's block, trying to crank out a thousand words about my 2014 World Series of Poker. Most of it is just bragging about accomplishments that aren't really brag-worthy. I lamented to my roommates that “I've written 1300 words, but hate 900 of them.”

2011 WSOP bracelet winner Foster Hays, in his umpteenth attempt to be unhelpful, mockingly suggested I write about all the times I've been mistaken for a floorperson – this happens because I frequently dress up in business casual to play in poker tournaments. 

We spent the next twenty minutes cackling about when this happens next year, I should play along, but give the most heinously awful ruling possible. It got to the point where I was rolling around on the floor writhing in laughter over the image of "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to confiscate this pot and..." *walks over to another tournament during it's final table and dumps the chips into Jen Shahade's stack* 

Inspired by these moments, I've decided to scrap what I've written and instead, tell you about the stories from my summer that entertained my friends and I the most:

How I spent an entire summer at the World Series of Poker without Identification

I flew into Las Vegas on May 26^th. My first event was the $1000 Pot-Limit Omaha tournament on May 28^th. I was preparing to leave my house to register the event on that day, but could not find my passport. I had previously lost my driver's license while abroad and had not bothered to to acquire a replacement, so here I was, with no identification, despite intending to play a full slate of WSOP events over the next seven weeks. Here was my plan:

Eventually, I was told that because my data was in the WSOP system, gaming regulations would allow me to play in tournaments, but I could not collect any payouts until I had retrieved my passport. WSOP staff handed me a print out of my documents they had on file and I was good to go. People often say that I look 16 years old in jest, but somehow I was able to partake in 37 WSOP events totaling nearly $200,000 in buy-ins this summer without any official piece of paper proving who I was.

I didn't acquire a new driver's license until the end of summer. Thus, for most of the series, I felt like a black hole of tournament funds, anything I cashed for would just sit at the Rio until I acquired a piece of plastic to free it. Players often joked that the World Series of Poker collects enough rake equivalent to getting second place in the tournament, so anything I cashed for would just add to that number. It was my goal to ensure that the WSOP finally sealed the deal and won first prize money.

Towards the end, I was actually starting to sweat what day my new driver's license would arrive. If I didn't collect my payouts before the November Nine was set, the money would have been locked up for the entire year. Fortunately, it arrived during day five of the main event.

Doing My Best Squirrel Impression in the Poker Players' Championship

The $50,000 World Series of Poker Players' Championship is the tournament I look forward to most each year. It is my main event. Actually, it's much better than the main event – if I were forced to play only one each year, I wouldn't even have to think twice about it – I would snap-call, fist-pump pick the Poker Players' Championship. In fact, if I were forced to defend humanity's existence through a form of poker, it would be in 8-game, and this is the pinnacle event of that format.

On day two of the tournament I underwent a violent roller-coaster ride. I started the day with 227,800 chips but was crippled down to 9,000, less than two big bets at the start of the 3,000/6,000 blind level. Against many odds, I ran it up to 366,000. Along the way, I played several large pots against Gus Hansen in my worst discipline, Pot-Limit Omaha, where it took all my concentration and several minutes of tanking to come up with a not optimal, but acceptable, second-best line.

Here is a photo Justin Bonomo took of me recapping all of that day's intensity and concentration:

Homage To My Favorite Televised Poker Hand

My favorite televised poker hand is from the 2007 World Series of Poker $3,000 No-Limit Holdem final table, involving Beth Shak, Phil Hellmuth and Brett Richey. If you haven't seen it, you are a bad person and should rectify that by watching it here immediately.

In this iconic hand, Beth Shak was dealt pocket aces and danced around yelling “I got it! I got it!” after she went all in. Brett Richey had kings and called despite all the fanfare. My friends and I mimic this scene anytime it seems relevant, as it never fails to garner laughs.

In the $10,000 Seven-Card Stud Championship, I was fortunate enough to make a deep run. At the unofficial final table of nine players at the end of day two, I completed an ace doorcard and Jesse Martin called with a nine. We ended up heads up to fourth street, where I caught another ace and Jesse folded to my double bet.

Though this was a serious situation in which I was eight players away from a WSOP bracelet and a quarter-million dollars, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to have some fun. I grabbed the aces, sang “I got it! I got it!” and danced with my fingers as Beth Shak did. Phil Hellmuth, seated to my left, figured out what was going on and bumped fists with me in approval. If only he had exclaimed “one quarter of a second after, I was all in” like he did six years ago, everything would have been perfect.

PokerNews covered the hand and the antics that followed here. The fun didn't end there, as Brett Richey was a good sport and decided to chime in on Twitter:

Next Year's Pranks

The 2014 World Series of Poker was good to me. I made my third WSOP final table and cashed in eight events, surpassing my previous personal best of seven within a year. I came into the summer without ever having made the money in a live $10,000 buy-in event, but emerged from it with cashes in the $10,000 H.O.R.S.E., Seven-Card Stud, and main event.

Despite these windfalls, it is memories like these that I cherish the most and part of the reason I battle at the Rio everyday despite how exhausting it can become. I'm already looking forward to the 2015 WSOP and the awful rulings I'll get to make.

How I Got the Fire for Poker Back in 2014

(Wrote this for my most recent article in CardPlayer Magazine, may consider re-posting other pieces in the future or just ranting about other topics here)

In 2011, I lost the fire for poker. I had secured a reasonable bankroll. I didn't have that much money, but it was only one year after I had nothing, so it was refreshing to live comfortably. I became complacent. While I still grinded training videos and hand histories with my friends, I absolutely did not want to grind on the felt. I never bothered with the projects I wanted to work on - such as creating a no-limit deuce-to-seven single draw shove bot or a razz dead card calculator.

This fulfilled what my friends joke is the Jameson Painter theorem of poker: “When it was between school or work and poker, you picked poker. When it's between poker and dicking around, dicking around wins no-contest.” The hashtag #NoRoadsLeadToPoker is still fairly popular amongst my crew.

In September, just five months after Black Friday, I moved to Rosarito, Mexico, supposedly to reboot my PokerStars and Full Tilt Poker accounts and spend the year playing online, but it didn't pan out that way. I was much more excited about going downstairs to play beach badminton than I ever was to grind $40-$80 8-game.

When I first got there, I final tabled the PokerStars World Championship of Online Poker $10,000 8-game High Roller. In doing so, I exacted some closure after punting myself out of a cash in the World Series of Poker $50,000 Players' Championship just a few months earlier, but I didn't play much after that. Most weeks, I would late register the Sunday Million at the last minute, and often, that would constitute my entire Sunday session.

For the next two years, my relationship with poker mirrored a brick-and-mortar casino session - predominately boredom and indifference, punctured by a few moments of excitement and terror. The World Series of Poker was all that I looked forward to. In 2012 and 2013, I would spend a majority of the year apathetic towards poker, but when June came around my enthusiasm was roused. Coming up a mixed game player who didn't travel for tournaments, it was a rare time of the year where I reunited with friends while we sweat each other in the year's biggest festival of tournaments.

Ever since I became a professional, these experiences have been the most meaningful to me, but for the rest of those two years, I wanted little to do with poker and it even became a secondary source of income.

What Happened in 2014?

I kicked off 2014 by going to PokerStars Caribbean Adventure for the first time. Many players complain about PCA, but the trip did not disappoint. I final tabled a $2,000 Open Face Chinese event, spent multiple days riding water slides, and had a great time in the sun while the entire United States was mired in a winter storm.

The feelings I had about the WSOP were alive here, even though it was January. I thought this was just an isolated incident, because a week in the Bahamas can make poker seem glamorous, but they came back again.

In February, I went to Valencia, Spain to compete in the Magic: the Gathering Pro Tour. I had never been to Europe before, so decided to travel the poker circuit there for 3 months after until the European Poker Tour Grand Final was over. It seemed like every new destination I went to – Barcelona, Venice, Nice, or Amsterdam - became my new favorite city in the world (kind of like how some people have six best friends).

The number one impetus in reigniting my flames was watching my friends in action. Battling alongside and against them had a tremendously motivating influence on me. They were also instrumental in teaching me to how to say “hello, beautiful” in the native language of whatever country we were in. The downtime in between tour stops was always filled with good times in the form of fantastic meals and city exploration.

Here were a few highlights:

A few friends and I rented a house for a week in the center of Venice. We ate gelato everyday, often while sitting with our feet dangling just over the water. I commentated my first large, live final table in World Poker Tour Venice alongside Jamie Kerstetter. My pokercastering skills improved immensely and I enjoyed it so much that I would jump at future opportunities to do more of it.

At the end of EPT Vienna, Dominik Nitsche asked me if I was interested in going to Montenegro for a pair of Russian Poker Tour tournaments that I was not even aware existed. I had nothing planned for the next week before EPT San Remo started, so snap-called, and the next day we were off to a country I had only heard about as a kid during the Bosnian and Croatian Wars. I imagined it would look desolate, but these prejudices were immediately dismissed as we drove through the beautiful countryside outside Podgorica.

During EPT Grand Final, Mickey Petersen and I ate a French cafe just outside Monte Carlo for lunch and joked about how we were the poorest people in attendance. To add insult to injury, there were several eight year-old kids there dressed better than me. Here's a not-at-all-embellished recap of an important strategy discussion we had later that evening:

These are common adventures for those that frequent the tournament circuit, but I rarely experienced them outside of the World Series of Poker. It may sound hard to believe, but I had never traveled to tournaments before this year, and going to Rosarito was the extent of travel I had done for poker. This mostly happened because I cut my teeth on limit games while most major tournaments are run as no-limit holdem. I didn't have the foresight to know that working on my big-bet skills would lead to these life-changing events, but I'm grateful it all happened.

I've come to terms that my interest in the game of poker will never burn as brightly as when I was an addicted 18 year-old punk-ass kid who would drive two hours through the desert to Morongo Casino to play 25 hours over a weekend. I still don't enjoy grinding much more than I did in 2011 or 2013, but have found more opportunities to use poker as a catalyst for fun adventures.

Despite these revelations, I actually want to scale back my travel in 2015 and rebuild my community in Las Vegas, where I only spent a disjointed four months this year. There is a large opportunity cost to traveling in that you don't have the chance to create something solid in one place. I used to host barbeques and pool parties frequently to provide for my friends, but this curbed significantly when I was always on the road. I'm ecstatic that my travels have also given me some direction for the upcoming year. Here's to 2015.