I just took some time to reread everything I've posted in this blog since the summer.
Even though countless posts and articles and cheesy new-age psychology books have been written about reacting to adversity, I feel like it could be helpful for me to make yet another February post to articulate some general thoughts about the best way of overcoming this epic 4 month-long rut.
I have a big ego. Much of it is founded upon and nourished by the notion that my creativity and sensitivity empower me; it's no coincidence that I chose to pursue classical piano rather than physics or medicine or business despite feeling attracted by those other paths to varying degrees. When playing poker, this big creativity-based ego is the source of both great strength and glaring vulnerability. It empowers me to think about hands in sometimes unusual and "brilliant" ways but also makes me a huge sucker for the rush of marginal plays that serve no purpose outside of increasing variance for variance's sake.
The advantage is that in my poker "career" I've found myself in tons of unusual spots that most people who have patiently grinded up the ranks as small winners have never been in. I have become an extremely proficient handreader. The drawback is that I have often tilted myself by taking risks that are unnecessary to beating the various games I've played, thereby reducing the amount of "tilt-free" hands I play and increasing the frustration from seeing more straightforward, boring, disciplined players (players who would never sit HU vs me) move steadily up the ranks. There is tremendous power in being able to change gears, make hero calls and gigantic bluffs. Keeping these abilities in check and knowing when to metaphorically "release the big dogs" becomes the issue. For me, it's a constant dance between genius and madness.
This summer I feel like I struck a great balance where I was always capable of making big calls and folds without necessarily seeking out those spots unnecessarily. I had reached a space where I wasn't looking to prove anything. The internal beast that hungers for the cally-bluffy poker-crack was always present but rarely the one driving the bus. I simply let it speak when it was crying out too loudly to be ignored. I think that there are a few things I was doing during that period (roughly from august to early november, when everything went to hell) that can be learned from and help me draw up a plan going forward.
1 : assuming that most of my opponents suck
This is pretty self-explanatory. When I assume that people read hands and well as I do, I often end up levelling myself. Most of the people I am playing at low and midstakes simply aren't that bright or talented at poker. They don't worry about balancing ranges or exploiting others.
2 : taking an extra second before a crazy play to ask myself "is my inner beast compelling me to do this? is it crying out? or am I just looking for a way out of the boredom of these cheeseburger stakes and their dairy queen regs?"
If I think it's the beast that smells blood, I go with it. If I think I might just be getting bored, the decision is easy.
3 : find a regular time to play with space for "creative session planning"
Routine and ritual are important in order to provide a form of automatic momentum. Being inflexible doesn't make much sense either since many of my biggest wins have come vs epically bad late-night fish. I need to find a loose playing routine that can by supplemented by occasional random fish-hunting.
4 : begin every session with no more than 6 tables
Nothing fancy about this. I can always add on a couple as I settle into the session and see other great tables opening up. Starting up with too many can instantly get me feeling frantic and lead to the subtle tilt of feeling rushed.
5 : during sessions, direct all of my energy on maintaininga balanced state of mind
I don't need to worry about technical poker details while playing, instead I need to be focused on sustaining a performance mindset and being immune to results and zen-like in my fascinated, curiousity-based concentration.
6 : no plo for the time being
The games have been insanely profitable, but variance is just too high and my confidance simply can't withstand more brutal swings right now.
7 : A Simple Plan
I'll restrict my game-selection creativity according to the following rules :
-no nl200 until I've made 30 (after today's session, 35 lol) buyins at nl100
-no nl400 until I've made 20 buyins at nl200
-nothing above nl400 until I've made another 20 buyins there
-play 80k hands of NL in March, following the above BR rules. With RB and bonuses, I should be more than ready to get back on the horse in April if I'm able to be focused, disciplined and patient.
One thing to consider is being staked. Someone offered to front me 10k so that I can play higher and I have to admit it's tempting but I think I like the idea of returning to some simple, disciplined, routine-based grinding without the hysteria of massive swings and crazy implied life-tilt when running bad.


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