The Cashout Curse
Psychological Warfare. That’s what this game is all about.
There’s a theory that floats among serious Internet poker players. It’s called “The Cashout Curse”. Essentially, it’s the belief that if you cashout a large amount of money (usually any amount larger than that of your last deposit), you will be the victim of a string of Bad Beats the likes of which most people could not withstand.
Like I said – Psychological Warfare. When you win a little and take it out, you feel good. Most players leave something behind to continue playing with; this is not money that the poker sites are willing to lose to withdrawals. A Bad Beat usually results in the player who is beaten getting angry at the other player for winning while not playing correctly. Most players who suffer one or two bad beats a day can take it – two or three bad beats an hour, however, can result in a long stretch of bad play and bigger bets to recoup losses.
The poker sites rely on the suckers who think that they are just getting outdrawn, not outplayed, because these are the people who will continue to deposit money; they “know” that they are the better player – they just got unlucky on a couple straight hands. Or as was my case a few weeks back, eighteen straight.
My friends – I am a perfect sucker.
Over the past week, I’ve been playing low-limit satellite tournaments, most of which are of the rebuy/add-on variety, and have a prize pool that includes seats in larger tournaments as well as straight cash prizes. My ultimate goal was to win a second World Series of Poker entry, which I have been told I can sell to any other Paradise Poker player for whatever fee I desire. I had planned to keep the additional $1400 in trip money so as to guarantee that I could spend my 10 days in a nice hotel and not the airport Howard Johnson’s, and then sell the $10,200 WSOP entry (and the $600 Paradise Masters II entry) for about $7500, thereby giving another player a discounted chance at the bracelet, and giving me enough to pay off my car.
I came close – I finished 3rd in one WSOP tourney, and 4th in another. Unfortunately, both of them awarded only one WSOP seat. Then I decided to try other tournaments, as well as returning to the 1-on-1 matches that I had completely dominated only a month ago.
Oops.
The first rule of online poker is: be aggressive. If you’re unsure of the strength of your hand, then bet, because you’re probably not going to win with a check, and almost definitely not with a call. I’ve stuck to this rule pretty religiously, and it has paid off handsomely (see: WSOP entry). Unfortunately, it has also gotten me into trouble in larger pots when I am playing a weak hand or bluffing completely. There’s a fine line between being “pot committed” and just being plain stupid, and I walk that line with almost every hand I play. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes it doesn’t.
Example:
I was late into a very big (read: $2200 to 1st place) tournament Sunday night, and I was #1 overall with 25 players left, holding almost 15% of all chips in play. I got A-2 suited in the big blind, and with two callers, I took a look at a cheap flop.
It hit 4-A-6 rainbow, but in first position, I checked. The player in last position bet $1200 (blinds were 300/600), and I re-raised to $3600 (I had started the hand with a little under 20k in chips – he had about 14k and was #3 overall). The middle position player called; so did last position. The turn hit with a 7 in the fourth suit, and I bet out $2000. The middle position called all-in for about $1800, and the late position player went over the top all-in for about $9000 total.
Now I had a decision to make. If I call and I’m outkicked (which was likely the case), then I fall from #1 overall to near the bottom – I think I would have ended up at #23 of 25. If I go away, he probably takes the chip lead, and he’ll be able to act before me until our table is broken up.
But if he doesn’t even have the Ace and I call and win, I’m a dominant chip leader, and I probably have a stranglehold on first place (and $2200).
Having poured over $5000 into the pot already, I was pretty committed to the hand, so the correct move was to call and hope he was bluffing, but I couldn’t do it (remember, the other guy had already gone all-in as well, albeit on a short stack). I folded.
Middle position showed K-Q of hearts, so he had just an Ace/King high. Late position showed…
Pocket Queens. The river was a 10, and I would have won the hand. Late position guy ended up winning the whole tournament, while I had to settle for 5th (and about $250).
Anyway, back to the original topic of this post – the Cashout Curse. After Sunday’s 5th place finish, I was up a couple of hundred bucks for the day, and decided to quit. I cashed out about $150, leaving what I had started the day with ($350) in my account. Unfortunately, as I’ve written before, the wonderful people at Neteller (my 3rd-party banking group for poker earnings/losses) require that all cashouts be held for up to 3 days to ensure that they are legit. Of course, while the funds are being held, you can re-deposit them back into any site without having to pay the standard 9% fees…
I spent yesterday afternoon/evening frantically trying to avoid ridiculous outdraws from every direction. During one tournament, I was outdrawn at the same table with KK three times in only 10 hands. Once to A-3 offsuit (Ace on the flop), once to J-7 offsuit (straight on the turn) and once to 9-4 suited (he flopped a flush – I hit a set). In all three cases I either went all-in or pushed the other person all-in while I was ahead (twice before the flop; the 9-4 all-in called a massive bet pre-flop, and then obviously called my all-in after the flush hit).
I finally gave up on tournaments and went to a 1-on-1 head’s up table, getting outdrawn with AA against J-4 offsuit (?!?!) when a set came floating by on the river. Finally, as the clock rounded 1AM this morning, I was at a 1-on-1 table pondering an 8-8 against a moderate re-raise. I decided, “screw it – I’m tired” and moved all-in for about 800 chips (the blinds were 30-60 – I had raised to 120, he re-raised to 300). He called…
… With a 7-2 offsuit. (A.K.A. the worst possible starting hand in hold-‘em).
“Guess I was pot committed” he typed. No, no you weren’t. Not when there are only 2000 total chips in play, and you have to put in 2/3 of your stack to call when you’re holding the worst possible…
… The flop hit 7-2-A. The turn was a 2. The River was a 10. I threw something against a wall and went to bed, all the while muttering “Goddamnit – I know I’m better than these friggin’ fish.”
I’m a victim of the Cashout Curse, and I’m the perfect sucker.
Lata.
posted by Big D @ 4:15 PM
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