Good news is that I bagged an 8th place for 17.5 points and $2k, good to make me closer to even and put me on my target number for the WSOP-C National Championship.  The bad news is the same; now I still have to sweat it a bit, and finishing 8th is always disappointing.  I busted early enough on a nice afternoon that I made it to downtown Philadelphia intent on spending some quality time in the neighborhood of our founding fathers.

It was great seeing the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and wandering around the cobblestone streets that inspired this great nation we have today.  I couldn’t help but be sad though with the way things are today.  Our government is so far from where Benjamin Franklin and George Washington intended it to be that it makes me sick.  My feelings of patriotism were both stoked and quenched standing there; it’s so depressing to be in the midst of the ideals that founded this nation when the Constitution is daily dredged through the muck of liberalism and big government.  It hurts having my life affected by the policies of a federal government that should be doing nothing but protecting my rights to life, liberty, and the PURSUIT of happiness.

I feel like that’s where we went wrong.  Somewhere along the way people translated that statement to mean entitlement.  Like the government owes them happiness.  Somewhere along the way the government entered the business of legislating morality, because that helps make people happy.  Or is supposed to anyways.  As intended, this government would be 90% smaller and do nothing other than defend the Constitution and the States themselves, yet in this day and age we’ve all forgotten the 10th amendment, the last thing the founding fathers wanted us to be left with moving forward in the birth of this country:

• The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.

Anyways, it was a good afternoon. Here’s some pictures I took:

Independence Hall

Old Quaker Meeting House

Benjamin Franklin’s Grave in Christ Church Cemetery

I have no idea what this building is, but the marble work is amazing. Ribs on the lions and everything.

Washington Square

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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Hello.  Long time no talk.  My bad.  I haven’t really been feeling up to writing lately, but for some reason in this gloomy twilight over lovely Chester, Pennsylvania, I do.  Hi

A lot of shit has happened between then and now.  I cashed in the Red Rock $1k.  I won the Caesars WSOP-C $1k for $55k and my 2nd ring, beating Eskimo Clark heads-up.  Two weeks later I chopped the Venetian $1k in entertaining style.  I battled back from stuck a bit to barely stuck when we went to the mattresses and got all the loot in pre-flop, my JJ v his AQo.  I said, chop the money?  He said sure, winner of the flip wins?  Yup.  I lost the flip and went home with $20k.  With a 5th place and a win in $1k’s at the Bellagio Five Diamond and a 3rd at the Venetian’s $1k in November, I put together a sick little heater in $1k’s this winter.

I started looking for houses time and was pretty happy to take all those donkament dollars and turn them into one.  I went to the Commerce for LAPC in February and made money mostly thanks to Ryan Tepen winning the $100r for fifty dimes.  Closed escrow on a house, an awesome place in an ideal neighborhood for $95,500.

All this awesome has been tainted though by the end of my engagement to Cory.  We entered our relationship committed to the idea that for a relationship to be successful, both people must be happy by themselves first.  Then, if they’re the right fit, they will be happier together.  If they’re less happy together than apart, then something’s obviously broken.  We’ve riddled each other with misery enough that I had to pull the plug.  It bums me out terribly, but it bummed me out way more to be consistently at odds with the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

That’s the whole point of dating and time though, right?  Don’t get married unless you’re 100% sure.  I did that once, and it was a big fucking mistake.  Why rush into something like that?  If you’re no good now, but think things can be worked out, then cool, let’s push it back a bit to make sure.  If we’re no good period, then hooray for us for being wise about life and not rushing into something that was wrong.  So, while I’m bummed that it didn’t work out, I’m happy that we figured this out now.  I’m stoked to not have a source of unhappiness in my life any longer.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned about my relationship functionality being broken.  They’ve all ended in failure thus far.  Or the fact that I’m now thirty years old and do want a family.  But I keep reminding myself that there really aren’t many examples of successful relationships out there.  It’s gotta be something like 99%+ of all relationships eventually end, yet we all continue this pursuit.  What’s broken where?  I have no idea, but I really don’t understand why people get so bent out of shape over break-ups, or when somebody doesn’t like you back.  It’s not that big of a deal.  If it’s not working now, for whatever reason you can come up with, what makes you think it’s going to work later?  And why would you want to continue to pursue something that’s broken?

Perhaps I’ll be single for the rest of my life, but I’d rather do that than be less happy in a relationship.  Perhaps my paradigm will shift as I age, but I have a feeling that I’ll still be able to make friends at fifty.  Perhaps I won’t start my family until 50, but really, what’s wrong with that?  Certainly not optimal, not what I would prefer, but it has to be boatloads better than having kids with somebody who you shouldn’t have married in the first place.  Insert divorce here, broken lives, et cetera.  So again, I find myself wondering why I should be bummed about this?  I dodged a bullet.

Gavin Smith ran into Eskimo outside the restroom at the Wynn in March.  Hey, Eskimo, I heard that you took 2nd in a $1k recently.  Congrats.  ”Thanks, we chopped it.”  Eskimo?!  NO you DiDn’T!? “Yeah, yeah, we chopped it.”  Fine.  I bet that you didn’t chop it.  I still haven’t figured out why he would try and run that bluff.

With those 50 points I picked up in January, I did some math and decided that I needed to pursue points for the WSOP-C National Championship.  Myself and some other smart people came up with 90 as a target number but thought we’d probably be good with 80.  I headed to San Diego/Harrah’s Rincon to chase some points, booking an 11th and a 3rd for 40 points.  I celebrated cause I made it, and went to Vegas to remodel my house and move in.

I spent the end of March through last week doing just that.  A buddy of mine owes me $ and is a skilled craftsman.  He’s doing the work for me and I’m calling our debt square.  I’ve been busting my ass too, but there’s only so much I can do that I know how to do.  He’s taught me a ton this month and it’s been a pleasure watching him create the art that is my hardwood floor.  He’s very talented at wood floors and if I tried to pull it off, I wouldn’t have, and would have ended up paying somebody to do it.

Somewhere around when I started getting re-connected to the grid in April I heard that 90 points might not do it.  And then a couple weeks ago, 90 points was the cutoff, with twenty some-odd events to go.  Rats.  I very reluctantly purchased a ticket to Philladelphia to pursue points.  I’ve played four tournaments thus far, never doing anything in any of them, have lost money playing cash games, won money on neutral ev gambling (Wanna flip a coin for $500?  Sure.  Ship.  Double or nothing?  Sure.  Ship.), and have spent money on beer and ice hockey.  It’s been a fun trip thus far, greatly exceeding my expectations, I’m just hoping that I can come up with 20 points in the next 6 events so I don’t have to go to New Orleans.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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Two nights ago I raised pre-flop, everybody folded, and the dealer pushed me the blinds, five black chips. $500. I look at Justin Young and ask, do you remember when $500 was a big win? He kind of chuckles, as do I, and we both ponder for a moment. It’s interesting how that changes, the sum of dollars we’re comfortable winning or losing, or the sum that gets us excited or hurt, Justin says. It just keeps getting… sicker? Yeah, I wanted to say worse, but it’s not worse, it’s just, yeah. Sicker.

The first time I played at the Bellagio was a couple of days after my 21st birthday in 2002. I played 4-8 limit hold’em and won $500. I felt like king of the world. A decade later I stroll into the Bellagio, can’t find any game big enough to interest me, can’t afford to play in the $500-1k HA game, say hello to Ben and Chance and Doyle and Frank playing in the game, and then go next door to play $300-600 mixed games.

I can distinctly remember the first time I played $30-60. I called Moosh in Colorado and said I was freaked out because it was such a big game.

It blows my mind how much I’ve learned about poker and life in the last decade. Variance is a beast that I still don’t fully understand, but I was a river card away from retiring in 2008. It’s still tickles me that I’ve been able to perform my profession live on ESPN. I can remember watching the first WPT episode on a TV above a poker table in Cripple Creek, Colorado. I didn’t think televised poker had a chance, and bet my friend that it wouldn’t exist a year later. Best $100 I ever lost.

So much has happened in the past decade. I can’t help but wonder what the next one is going to look like for poker. We’re still awfully new, having been mainstream for less time than the UFC. A couple of blogs were published recently about carrying this game forward into the next era of poker looming over the next ridge.

Matt Glantz wrote Responsibility in Poker geared toward young professionals and our responsibilities as ambassadors of this game. Phil Galfond wrote a blog (Edit: Cashed link is here) about some changes that need to be made to the online poker world and how we’re in a spot to do things right from the start with the rebirth of online poker in America. Both are excellent. Both revolve around the idea that as professionals we must act professional if we wish to keep our jobs. We must always be welcoming and accommodating to new money coming into the game and remember that part of our job is being an entertainer. If Joe Tourist goes to a show and it sucks, he’s not going to pay $100 to see it again.

It’s not that hard to do really. Be good to people. Don’t berate anybody ever. You really don’t need to talk about poker ever. There’s no reason to ever do anything that will either make them less likely to play or more likely to play better. Be a humble winner and a happy loser. Be fair. Be honest. Do what you say your’re going to do. Pay your debts promptly. Smile.

I enjoy imagining what poker might look like in ten years. Perhaps it will look something like the Starcraft phenomenon in Korea. Or maybe there will be franchises. Team SMD trades Kevin Saul to Team Lindgren for Chris Bell and one season’s worth of football picks. Maybe franchises will develop around domestic online sites. Maybe not much will happen, and everybody will love PLO in ten years. Whatever happens, I’m excited to be a part of it, and am looking forward to the new year.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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Cory and I went wine tasting during the LAPC and spent an afternoon at this vineyard off the road, by appointment only. I have no idea how they pulled that off but it was awesome.

Spent a lot of time at the Arapaho Basin Beach this spring with my friends in Summit County. If you got there early enough you could tailgate at the edge of the snow where it meets the parking lot. We usually didn’t.

The ranch was great this summer. This is on the way back from a ride into North Taylor Basin. In the late 40’s a B-25 crashed up there. They pulled out the bodies and machine guns but left the rest.

Sangres at sunset from a hill on the ranch.

Lake Pueblo on the West side at the Arkansas river inflow.

Spent 3 weeks in Europe. Didn’t take many pictures, was playing lots of poker. Did get these from Cannes.

Le petit bebe

This dog wanted to commit suicide. The brave firemen prevented his premature death.

Eric Baldwin hosted a Halloween party. I attended dressed as Eric Baldwin.

The year somebody dressed up as Teddy Monroe. Hope y’all enjoy.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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It all started Sunday night when a bunch of us Las Vegas locals celebrated Thanksgiving in December. Ryan and Kristin Welch decided they wanted to get into the outdoors and wanted me to help them purchase gear at REI. I love that place and gladly accepted. We met there after Ryan won a bunch of money at the Bellagio and then Cory and I helped them spend it. The first trip on the books was an over-nighter to the Goldstrike Hot Springs. James Page joined the four of us, and we hit the trail in the early afternoon.

We intended on camping either on the banks of the Colorado River or near the lowest hot spring pool if the beach was unacceptable after recent flash floods. The trail after the upper pool where we usually stop is much steeper in it’s descent to the river, and before long we were doing a lot more canyoneering than hiking.

I had no idea how to photograph this, but this is a waterfall down a hole. Creek split around a rock and slammed into another, sending a bunch of water down a hole. It’s falling below James in the second picture. I thought it was really cool.

We continued deeper into the gorge. After the tough stuff we passed hanging gardens dripping steaming hot water. Then around a bend, we could see the mighty Colorado.

The bank of the River was rockier than I anticipated and there wasn’t a source of firewood. We dropped our packs and snooped around a bit.

Cory found the source of the waterfall sound around the corner up river. Turns out it was steaming hot water spewing out of a rock face like a hole in a dyke.

Pretty cool stuff. I’ve never seen anything like it. We discussed where to make camp and eventually decided to hike back up to the lower pools. We made camp, went for a soak, built a fire, and proceeded to enjoy an evening filled with cup-o-noodles, hot dogs, and smores; whiskey and wine; Bob Marley, Achtung, and Catch Phrase. It was fantastic. The following morning I took a bunch of pictures of camp.

Standing next to tent in first picture, Cory’s at kitchen, hot spring pool is below to the left, campfire and their tent is to the right.

The pool, Cory in the kitchen above, panning left below.

There were dozens of the critters below in this small pool with the reeds growing out of it. Tadpoles right?

It felt great to be outside again, and even though my body was pissed with me for being out of shape, I was stoked to be out there and I’m glad to get back on that train.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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I’ve been quite lazy since Europe. It’s not exactly laziness though, it’s something different and it has to do with live poker for sure. Something like a lack of motivation coming from helplessness, like it sucks that I can’t play online but the only way I can do something about it is move out of the country. I’ve been working hard playing live poker, but I haven’t been doing shit else for the most part, cause live poker is significantly more time consuming than online poker. I’ve put on weight, I sleep more and later, and I’ve been a bit depressed with the lack of the outdoors and other stuff going on in life. Not like that’s been missing, but it’s not the same as it used to be. I haven’t traveled since Europe except for Thanksgiving, and I had to come home early from that on Friday to work. I have hiked to the hot springs three times and spent a couple days on the lake, but that’s it.

I guess I’m finally starting to feel life without online poker in my bones. When I could play online, I would do it at the lake. I could ski during the day and then play online at night. Work intertwined with life since it was so mobile. I’ve made thousands on the leather couch in the back of an Irish Pub in Westcliffe. Now if in Westcliffe, I must drive three hours North for the closest game, then get on the list that has taken me four hours to clear before, and then work. If the game breaks, I can’t work anymore.

This year I played 123 sessions of live cash games logging 281 hours at the table. This means I played slightly less than 10,000 hands of live cash this year, my weekly average online pre-black Friday. I lost $11,445 over the course of the year, putting in most of my hours in the $100-200 range, and ended up loser thanks to a $25k downswing in the past six weeks. In that same time period I won three live tournaments in seven final tables. Lol tourney donk. Earlier this year I couldn’t make the money to save my life, booking my first cash days before the WSOP at the Orleans Open. I should have bubbled, but they agreed to pay the bubble boy.

Taken from evplusplus.com, this graph is a simulation of 50 equally skilled players each playing 10,000 hands with equal expectation (in this case 3.5 PTBB’s/100 hands, or one big bet per hour of live play). The green line represents the luckiest player in this sample size, and the blue line represents the unluckiest bastard. Although they’re all expected to make 350 big bets over the course of this sample, some lucky fuck won almost 1250 big bets while another guy lost 350, even though they both played awesome, and everybody else is somewhere in the middle.

This graph takes those same 50 players and puts them in an online setting, playing 250,000 hands in the same time frame with a win rate cut in half. Now the unluckiest of our heroes still profited on the year, and when you consider rakeback, he crushed it.

All this to say that the long term in live poker is nearly non-existent, and variance in poker is much greater than anybody cares to believe. The odds of making it to the final table of the WSOP Main Event for a skilled player is somewhere in the 1/50 range, or once in a lifetime. Then if you get sucked out on there, are you ever going to be in a spot like that again to make up for the times you got sucked out on? Even if you add up all the sick spots you end up in over a lifetime, they still do not add up to a statistically significant number of frequencies to not have wide distributions like the graphs above.

Variance is stressful. It’s what makes my profession possible though and I have to embrace it, just makes live poker extra difficult because the time for variance to do it’s thing is drug over years instead of handled within weeks. Although I do enjoy playing live poker more than online, the quality of life that comes from being able to play online is so much greater. Now I have to choose between this and leaving the country to play online. Neither of us really *want* to leave the country. We love the West, our friends, family, etc. We’re happy here. We both value community and wouldn’t have it in Costa Rica, and she wouldn’t in Mexico. We’re leaning towards sticking around here and hoping online poker comes back soon.

So, anyways. Lots of live tournaments lately. Won a $1k O8 at the Bellagio. Guy had more chips than me, offered to chop the money and give me the victory. I accepted. Got a 3rd and 5th place in $1k NLHEs. Started November $25k in the hole, ended +$20k. I’m down a few dimes in December. Eric Baldwin won the $1k I took 3rd in. He also hosted a Halloween party which I attended dressed as Eric Baldwin. I went as a Mormon missionary for actual Halloween, which we spent downtown. Had lots of friends in from out of town. Got drunk with the same Australians I got drunk with in Cannes who were on holiday traveling the world and ended up in Vegas. Thanksgiving on a Lake. Thanksgiving in December. Achtung. Can’t say life’s dull that’s for sure.

Peace and good luck

Devo

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The first hand of the 1500 PLO 6 max I held 77xx in the big blind. An old dude limped first in three handed, the button folded, small blind wasn’t there yet, I checked my option, and flopped middle set on a lovely board. I check raised the guy, blasted the turn, boated up on the river and collected another big bet. Hey, I might have a shot here. PLO is my worst game, and I was actively trying to recall the advice my friend Billy has shared. I spewed everything I earned in that first hand back trying to do so, and finally when I realized two pair in PLO is like one pair in NLHE I started figuring things out. I had heaps throughout the day, we hit the money to end the night, and with 36 left I was seventh in chips.

I had 20k more than my entire table combined for day two. I felt like I played well but I couldn’t get much going, eventually dwindling to one of the short stacks with two tables remaining. I held on til the pay jump from 9th to 8th but then I flopped top two when he flopped the straight and that was all she wrote.

It’s been a while since I’ve been that close to a bracelet, and it thoroughly salivated me. The first time didn’t really matter since it was the employees event, the second time I got hosed and that sucked but I thought this world series final table thing was an annual event. I’ve learned through the maturation of my career that it’s really fucking difficult to book a top ten finish in the WSOP, and I’m quite disappointed with my 8th place finish this time around. I didn’t think a bracelet would ever matter to me as much as I feel like it does now, but it feels like a quest at this point and I cannot wait until next summer so I can get back on it.

On to the European Main Event, I really wanted to make a run in this thing too. I had a tough starting table and was pleased to chip up to 75k through day 1. My day 2 table wasn’t so good but was scheduled to break soon. It did shortly into the first level, and then I was moved to a table where I knew everybody. If Jen Harmon is the worst player at your table then you’re in the wrong game. There wasn’t anything I could do about it though, and toward the end of the first level they informed us that we would be moving to the live streaming table. Can’t say I blame them really. They then filled the the empty seat to my left, and none other than Ben Lamb takes it. We made jokes about tv tables being rigged and such, I managed to continue chipping up, and then busted Bruno Benvunesti winning a flip.

That marked the end of things going well though. It took squeezing maximum value out of two fours on AK8, 3, 3 and making an ace high calldown to maintain my stack the following level. All the good players busted to bad ones, the only people left from the 9 sickos assembled in level two was myself, Matt Waxman, and Brian Roberts. They were bored with us, we were moved back to the regular room during dinner, and afterwards my stack continued to decline. Finally our table broke and my new table was amazing. First hand I saw a flop five ways with 78dd, flopped the straight draw in position, was checked to, bet, and got called in two spots. I bricked and didn’t bluff at it again, I may have won the pot if I tried. Second hand I opened AJo, got re-raised by the button, stacks were perfect to 4b shove so I did, he called with AK, and I was out. I felt disgusted in myself for punting 35bbs at the best table in the room, but all I could do was go drinking at the local pub.

After moving across the harbor we’ve moved pubs too, to the sister bar of Morrison’s called Le Quay’s. The bartender from the previous night was having a pint, figured out I was a poker player based on the bracelets I was wearing last night, and we had a good chat. Speaking of those bracelets, they’re the dumbest thing ever. To enter the hotel or casino you must be wearing one. They verify that your ID has been checked and you’re actually over 18. Then to enter the tournament area you must be wearing the specific bracelet for that tournament. It’s never been necessary in any other tournament I’ve played. And they’re annoying to wear. And waiting in line to get them is lame. And if bartenders are figuring out that green bracelet = poker player, so can thieves, and as it turns out poker players often carry sizable sums of cash on them, especially when at tournaments.

So we had a good night drinking. Hit the sack. I spent the whole next day drafting magic online and chilling out while Cory adventured to Nice. She came back for dinner, I wanted to play the 330 PLO tournament at 10pm, got there in time, and was informed that it started at 8pm. Whooops. We went drinking again, first at Le Quay’s, then to Morrison’s to catch open mic night, and found many of my favorite peole there. Mike Watson won the 5k turbo, bringing his week’s profit to over 200k euro (atta boy!), and we were celebrating. One of the bartenders from Le Quay’s was there, he met some chick, she’s going to USC and couldn’t believe that I had gone there, they made out, and then she freaked. Have you been safe? Should I be worried? Do you have mono? Turns out she’s 18 and not very experienced at things. Good luck in LA girl.

The next day was the 880 deepstack event. I showed up an hour late cause I didn’t want to play 25-50 with 20k stacks. The structure was excellent containing every level at 40 minutes each. I ended the day 2nd in chips with 29 left, crushed people heading into the final table bringing 600k of the 2.4 million in play with me 10 handed, got it in pretty happily four times, was behind every time, lost them all, and busted 8th. Ugh. I collected 3k euro for my efforts making the trip basically breakeven.

After busto we went walking seeking food and then drinks. We headed up the hill toward Le Castre, an old fort turned museum. Wandering up ancient cobblestone streets I was concerned that we wouldn’t find food, but Cory had a place in mind and was convinced that it would be open. It was, we found Scott Seiver and his grandparents inside, and were immediately blasted with a helluva dining experience. We were never handed menus, but instead had our champagne glasses filled, salad, pate, miniature pickles, bread, and salami placed in front of us. Our waiter then explained that we will have a 2nd course of rattatouie and a main course that we need to choose. We must also select a bottle of wine. I went with the quail and she chose the lamb, he recommended a bottle of red that was fantastic, and all the food kicked ass. Somewhere in the course of dinner the staff broke into music, two guitars, a harp, bongos, shakers, and they all sang. It was Spanish, I knew what they were singing about, and it was fantastic. We then had dessert, and when we finally received the bill it was 37 euros each. We robbed them! The place was called Les Independents or something like that and is a must do in Cannes. Gaston Gastounette was the best meal we had but over two hundred euro more expensive too.

We then walked to the final table, got there just after Brian Roberts busted, and then walked back to Le Quai. I was gifted two decks of cards and a staff shirt. Jason the bartender made sure to indicate it was authentic, I’m pretty sure he indicated that he didn’t wash it, and I felt like I should have peeled off my final table shirt like we were exchanging football (aka soccer) jerseys. One deck is high quality plastic Jameson cards, the other is French and the neatest deck I’ve ever seen. Aces are “1″, kings are “R”, queens “D”, and jacks are some other letter I can’t remember right now.

We had a rough morning obviously, hired a car to take us to Sanremo, and I wrote most of this blog on the ride over. We’re back at the airport in Nice now where I finished it, have internet around my laptop for the first time since Cannes, and will write about Sanremo on the flight home.

Peace and good luck,

Devo

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