Comfort zone

I freely admit that I'm not in my comfort zone when I'm putting up $100,000 a tournament. That's what I did last November, and it worked out really well; it's what I've been trying to do again, and it's not working out so well this time around. Accordingly, I'm going to drop down in stakes to my comfort zone, which is $50,000 a tournament. If I'm still in the red for the year when November rolls around, I'll raise the stakes up to my discomfort zone again :-)

style flavor buy_in entry players hands place winnings

SNG   NLHE    88000 12000       6    13     4        0
SNG   NLHE    88000 12000       6    46     3        0

delta: $-200,000
Sit and go no limit hold'em balance: $2,034,440
balance: $9,800,804

Comfort zone

I've played enough poker now to recognize just how amateur I was when I started. Not that I think I'm a pro now, but I've definitely improved. One indicator is the fact that my panic zone has shrunk, which is another way of saying that my comfort zone has expanded. Not so long ago, I'd get really nervous when my starting stack dwindled to a quarter of its original size. Nowadays, though I'm not ecstatic when that happens, I handle it much better.

I've said it before, but it's such a good metaphor I'll steal from myself (and countless others, no doubt) and say it again. Poker ebbs and flows like the tide. You have to accept that fact. I'll go further -- you should embrace that fact. Realizing this truth deep in your poker bones, at the very core of your poker heart, will sustain you in the deep ebb times.

On Wednesday night, I porpoised trending downward for most of the session. The hardest decision I had to make came on the last hand; one of my opponents was betting really big, but it felt like he was trying to force me off my hand, and couldn't win at showdown. I called him down, and won a pot worth $82,300 with a pair of jacks; my opponent had a pair of fours.

delta: $44,300
balance: $667,261