Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Unluckiest Ever !!!
I saw this post on the 2 plus 2 forum and thoght it was good enough to share;
So many points ring true and especially to the major donks at the table "complaining with their selective memories"
Enjoy.
"This empty feeling. This pain. Why Betfair, why? I have to be the unluckiest player in the world!" Anyone else familiar with these emotions? No? I didn't think so. I'm probably the only one. I remember reading an article once about how we always think that we ended up choosing the wrong line in store, or the wrong lane in traffic. I have saved a quote in my mind going something like: "I always pick the wrong line! The guy who enters a line behind me always gets to the register before I do." But when we get into a line that moves quick and smooth, we don't remember because there's nothing to complain about.It's just what's supposed to happen. But everytime the line moves a bit slower, and the old lady infront of us can't find her money, we remember. "..that #@$"#%$ old "£$#"¤% lady!"
If you already get my point, the rest of this post is probably irrelevant. But to the ones who are not quite there yet, help yourselves.If we compare the example above to poker, it’s somewhat similar (besides that in poker you have two cards in your hand and yadeyadeyade…). We remember the times we lose with AA vs. KK, KK vs. QQ, QQ vs. JJ, some of us even remember the times when we lose with QQ vs. AK. But what about the times we hit our flush in a 4-way pot, and we scoop in a 400bb pot? Or the times we flop a set, and we get paid by TPWK? Or even the times when we suck out on the river by hitting a backdoor flush (which we didn't even notice) with KK vs. a flopped set? We forget those situations. It's just suppose to happen.
Selective memories makes us think that we run bad. To take another example. You are standing in front of a locked door. You have two keys in your hand. You know that one of the two keys is one to unlock the door. It’s really cold, maybe even freezing, rainy and windy (in other words: typical Faroese weather). You are shivering, so it’s not easy to control the key into the lock. You put one of the keys into the lock, but what happens? Of course, the lock doesn’t turn!
And you start cursing and swearing, why this always happens to you. If you on the other hand had chosen the key which unlocked the door first, “well… that was just the way it’s supposed to be”, and we don’t think more about it. When we win a flip, we don't remember, but every time we lose a flip we curse and complain (and most importantly, don't forget). It’s like our brain is systemized to protect our egoism. To protect all the flaws and mistakes we make. I’m a huge Manchester United supporter, and I was really angry about some of the decisions the referee made in the weekend-game against Chelsea, especially when he awarded Ashley Cole the free-kick which lead to the goal. (In my eyes) it was perfectly clean tackle by Darren Fletcher. I talked to some of my friends who are Chelsea supporters, and they thought I was crazy; they even thought that Darren Fletcher should have had the red card. This is probably not the best example in the world, but I think it shows, how our brain (miss)leads us into thinking, what is best for us is also right. Let’s say the referee awarded the free-kick, and they didn’t score. It would be like flopping a set, your opponent turns a flush, and we hit a boat on river.
“What? That’s just supposed to happen...”Poker is a very simple game. It's basically a deck of random cards with random numbers and colors. Any card can fall at any time. I'm not saying that poker is all about luck, not at all. But even the best hand in poker is only a 4-1 favorite against pocket deuces. Put it this way. If you take a bag of balls, put 80 red ones and 20 blue ones in it. If you were to pick one of the balls without looking, you'd pick a red one most of the time, but definetly not every time.
That's also why the best poker players win in the long run, they get it in with the most red balls to choose from when it really matters, but sometimes your opponent picks the blue ball. I have played poker seriously for something like four years, and it has taught me quite a lot about gambling, and about life in general. Especially how simpleminded and self centered we are as human beings. Most (read: ALL!) poker players think they are better than they actually are. It's human nature.
I used to play the NL500 and (seldom) NL1000 games on betfair. I used to do really well, and of course I thought I was one of (if not THE) best player at these stakes. I made a living, and a damn good one as well. Now when I think back, I probably made more money than lawyers and doctors do (note: I was a schoolboy(!)). For some reason I stopped playing poker (I blame the pursuit of becoming a professional football player, but nevertheless I stopped), and when I look back at that time, I’m thinking: Was I really that good, or were the other just bad? and the more I think, the likelier the latter becomes.
Even though I was winning and winning big, I only remember how I kept complaining to my friends about how unlucky I was, and posting hands on msn showing pots where I lost with AA v KK. I seriously thought I was the most unlucky person in the world. Nobody else had ever experienced this in the same way as me. I basically thought that it was practically theorically (blablacally) impossible to lose with the best hand. And when it happened, I used to educate like *biib* on the chat. Swearing and cursing (and giving free lessons). But when I sucked out, I didn't think much about it. "That's just the way it's supposed to be". I said "ul", and I couldn't understand why this guy kept complaining. "What was there to complain about anyways?"Being out of the game for nearly two years has seriously damaged my bankroll, and I had to ask one of my close friends for help. Since I hadn't been playing for some time, I had to prove my worth. So we came to the conclusion that he send me money to play NL100, and we split the winnings 50/50. If we both were happy after three weeks, we could make another deal. I was really excited, and wasn’t thinking much about the (low) stakes. I just wanted to play. And I must say, I was really surprised by the level of competition, and how aggressive these players were. And three weeks later, we had a look, and we were both happy. So we continued our deal, but this time it was suppose to last two weeks, and if I did well, I got to play NL200.
The last two weeks seemed like two years, but again I didn’t run into any downswings, and consistently kept making money daily, and by the end of the two weeks, I’d made enough money to play NL200 with my own bankroll. I thanked my friend for believing in me, but I thought it was time for me to play with my own money. I have played NL200 for (exactly) 20 days, and it’s been good. In fact, so good that I’ve made a reasonable bankroll to try out NL500. So yesterday I decided to take a stab at it. Finally back to NL500! I’d been looking forward to this day for eight weeks(/years!)! I decided to play 6 tables. I sat down, and I recognize some players, and others were just total strangers. The very first hand I decide to really get involved with is JJ, I raise the normal pot size raise, get raised, and we end up all in. The opponent has 66. “I’m thinking to myself: “JACKPOT!”” – but… I lost. And I could hear betfair whisper in my ear: “Welcome back Tórður, welcome back!”
After playing for 316 minutes straight, I found myself $2.876,44 down (my EV was +$1.942,02). And the normal thoughts start spinning in my head, “I have to be the most unlucky person in the world?”, “Why couldn’t this have happened on NL200?”, “I’ll just withdraw all my money, and never play poker again!”. And of course I couldn’t sleep. Not because of the amount I’ve lost, but because of the self-pitying. The “I’m-so-unlucky-bu-hu-hu-!”-feeling. The normal “empty” feeling which is so hard to explain.In the heat of the moment, I gave the possibility of withdrawing all the money some seriously consideration, but after I’ve gathered my thoughts today, and sitting here looking at my bankroll – it’s okay. It’s not in danger. Yes, I’ve just lost nearly $3.000. Yes, it was only in 4 hours. Yes, I have to play NL200 again. Yes, it’s going to take some weeks or even months before I get to play NL500. But the fact is that I’ve still made more money than most working people would in eight weeks (considering taxes). Maybe human nature is playing tricks on me, but I know I beat the NL500 level by a decent amount of bb/100, but I just have to wait until it’s my turn. If I’m good enough, it will be my turn.Now I sit here and I’m thinking, “what’s the point of the post/article?”. And to be honest, I don’t really know.
It’s probably most of all because I don’t have the desire to play after yesterday’s results. I guess writing is a good way to express your thoughts. But hopefully it can help us to analyze our situation. Stop complaining about losses. Stop considering ourselves as Mr. Unlucky. There are bigger things happening outside the tables, and outside our tiny little brain. Appreciate the things you have. I have great girlfriend, great family, great friends, great social life. I’m alive and I’m healthy. And if I can make money on poker, it’s just a big, big bonus! Poker is much, but it’s not everything. Don’t let it affect your life away from the tables. Besides, in the long run I am paid hourly, and not if I win $2.000 today, and lose $3.000 tomorrow.That’s all for now. I’ll see you at the NL200 tables (unless some high roller reads this and wants to stake me. In that case, PM )
Over 'n out,Viva la Føroyar !
So many points ring true and especially to the major donks at the table "complaining with their selective memories"
Enjoy.
"This empty feeling. This pain. Why Betfair, why? I have to be the unluckiest player in the world!" Anyone else familiar with these emotions? No? I didn't think so. I'm probably the only one. I remember reading an article once about how we always think that we ended up choosing the wrong line in store, or the wrong lane in traffic. I have saved a quote in my mind going something like: "I always pick the wrong line! The guy who enters a line behind me always gets to the register before I do." But when we get into a line that moves quick and smooth, we don't remember because there's nothing to complain about.It's just what's supposed to happen. But everytime the line moves a bit slower, and the old lady infront of us can't find her money, we remember. "..that #@$"#%$ old "£$#"¤% lady!"
If you already get my point, the rest of this post is probably irrelevant. But to the ones who are not quite there yet, help yourselves.If we compare the example above to poker, it’s somewhat similar (besides that in poker you have two cards in your hand and yadeyadeyade…). We remember the times we lose with AA vs. KK, KK vs. QQ, QQ vs. JJ, some of us even remember the times when we lose with QQ vs. AK. But what about the times we hit our flush in a 4-way pot, and we scoop in a 400bb pot? Or the times we flop a set, and we get paid by TPWK? Or even the times when we suck out on the river by hitting a backdoor flush (which we didn't even notice) with KK vs. a flopped set? We forget those situations. It's just suppose to happen.
Selective memories makes us think that we run bad. To take another example. You are standing in front of a locked door. You have two keys in your hand. You know that one of the two keys is one to unlock the door. It’s really cold, maybe even freezing, rainy and windy (in other words: typical Faroese weather). You are shivering, so it’s not easy to control the key into the lock. You put one of the keys into the lock, but what happens? Of course, the lock doesn’t turn!
And you start cursing and swearing, why this always happens to you. If you on the other hand had chosen the key which unlocked the door first, “well… that was just the way it’s supposed to be”, and we don’t think more about it. When we win a flip, we don't remember, but every time we lose a flip we curse and complain (and most importantly, don't forget). It’s like our brain is systemized to protect our egoism. To protect all the flaws and mistakes we make. I’m a huge Manchester United supporter, and I was really angry about some of the decisions the referee made in the weekend-game against Chelsea, especially when he awarded Ashley Cole the free-kick which lead to the goal. (In my eyes) it was perfectly clean tackle by Darren Fletcher. I talked to some of my friends who are Chelsea supporters, and they thought I was crazy; they even thought that Darren Fletcher should have had the red card. This is probably not the best example in the world, but I think it shows, how our brain (miss)leads us into thinking, what is best for us is also right. Let’s say the referee awarded the free-kick, and they didn’t score. It would be like flopping a set, your opponent turns a flush, and we hit a boat on river.
“What? That’s just supposed to happen...”Poker is a very simple game. It's basically a deck of random cards with random numbers and colors. Any card can fall at any time. I'm not saying that poker is all about luck, not at all. But even the best hand in poker is only a 4-1 favorite against pocket deuces. Put it this way. If you take a bag of balls, put 80 red ones and 20 blue ones in it. If you were to pick one of the balls without looking, you'd pick a red one most of the time, but definetly not every time.
That's also why the best poker players win in the long run, they get it in with the most red balls to choose from when it really matters, but sometimes your opponent picks the blue ball. I have played poker seriously for something like four years, and it has taught me quite a lot about gambling, and about life in general. Especially how simpleminded and self centered we are as human beings. Most (read: ALL!) poker players think they are better than they actually are. It's human nature.
I used to play the NL500 and (seldom) NL1000 games on betfair. I used to do really well, and of course I thought I was one of (if not THE) best player at these stakes. I made a living, and a damn good one as well. Now when I think back, I probably made more money than lawyers and doctors do (note: I was a schoolboy(!)). For some reason I stopped playing poker (I blame the pursuit of becoming a professional football player, but nevertheless I stopped), and when I look back at that time, I’m thinking: Was I really that good, or were the other just bad? and the more I think, the likelier the latter becomes.
Even though I was winning and winning big, I only remember how I kept complaining to my friends about how unlucky I was, and posting hands on msn showing pots where I lost with AA v KK. I seriously thought I was the most unlucky person in the world. Nobody else had ever experienced this in the same way as me. I basically thought that it was practically theorically (blablacally) impossible to lose with the best hand. And when it happened, I used to educate like *biib* on the chat. Swearing and cursing (and giving free lessons). But when I sucked out, I didn't think much about it. "That's just the way it's supposed to be". I said "ul", and I couldn't understand why this guy kept complaining. "What was there to complain about anyways?"Being out of the game for nearly two years has seriously damaged my bankroll, and I had to ask one of my close friends for help. Since I hadn't been playing for some time, I had to prove my worth. So we came to the conclusion that he send me money to play NL100, and we split the winnings 50/50. If we both were happy after three weeks, we could make another deal. I was really excited, and wasn’t thinking much about the (low) stakes. I just wanted to play. And I must say, I was really surprised by the level of competition, and how aggressive these players were. And three weeks later, we had a look, and we were both happy. So we continued our deal, but this time it was suppose to last two weeks, and if I did well, I got to play NL200.
The last two weeks seemed like two years, but again I didn’t run into any downswings, and consistently kept making money daily, and by the end of the two weeks, I’d made enough money to play NL200 with my own bankroll. I thanked my friend for believing in me, but I thought it was time for me to play with my own money. I have played NL200 for (exactly) 20 days, and it’s been good. In fact, so good that I’ve made a reasonable bankroll to try out NL500. So yesterday I decided to take a stab at it. Finally back to NL500! I’d been looking forward to this day for eight weeks(/years!)! I decided to play 6 tables. I sat down, and I recognize some players, and others were just total strangers. The very first hand I decide to really get involved with is JJ, I raise the normal pot size raise, get raised, and we end up all in. The opponent has 66. “I’m thinking to myself: “JACKPOT!”” – but… I lost. And I could hear betfair whisper in my ear: “Welcome back Tórður, welcome back!”
After playing for 316 minutes straight, I found myself $2.876,44 down (my EV was +$1.942,02). And the normal thoughts start spinning in my head, “I have to be the most unlucky person in the world?”, “Why couldn’t this have happened on NL200?”, “I’ll just withdraw all my money, and never play poker again!”. And of course I couldn’t sleep. Not because of the amount I’ve lost, but because of the self-pitying. The “I’m-so-unlucky-bu-hu-hu-!”-feeling. The normal “empty” feeling which is so hard to explain.In the heat of the moment, I gave the possibility of withdrawing all the money some seriously consideration, but after I’ve gathered my thoughts today, and sitting here looking at my bankroll – it’s okay. It’s not in danger. Yes, I’ve just lost nearly $3.000. Yes, it was only in 4 hours. Yes, I have to play NL200 again. Yes, it’s going to take some weeks or even months before I get to play NL500. But the fact is that I’ve still made more money than most working people would in eight weeks (considering taxes). Maybe human nature is playing tricks on me, but I know I beat the NL500 level by a decent amount of bb/100, but I just have to wait until it’s my turn. If I’m good enough, it will be my turn.Now I sit here and I’m thinking, “what’s the point of the post/article?”. And to be honest, I don’t really know.
It’s probably most of all because I don’t have the desire to play after yesterday’s results. I guess writing is a good way to express your thoughts. But hopefully it can help us to analyze our situation. Stop complaining about losses. Stop considering ourselves as Mr. Unlucky. There are bigger things happening outside the tables, and outside our tiny little brain. Appreciate the things you have. I have great girlfriend, great family, great friends, great social life. I’m alive and I’m healthy. And if I can make money on poker, it’s just a big, big bonus! Poker is much, but it’s not everything. Don’t let it affect your life away from the tables. Besides, in the long run I am paid hourly, and not if I win $2.000 today, and lose $3.000 tomorrow.That’s all for now. I’ll see you at the NL200 tables (unless some high roller reads this and wants to stake me. In that case, PM )
Over 'n out,Viva la Føroyar !
# posted by ShaaBoom : 1:14 PM
