He'd lost everything he had. He'd put all of it on the goddamned line, and he'd lost.
Was that the way it was supposed to happen? Was it meant to be this way? Was that asshole that runs things around this planet trying to teach him another fucking lesson?
Goddamnit, he'd done all he could. Goddamnit, even if he could have seen that fuckface's cards, he wouldn't have wanted anything to be different. Except for that goddamned queen on the goddamned river.
He didn't remember how he got out of there. Didn't remember the stunned looks around the table when the queen came up. Didn't remember any of the mumbled apologies and commiserations that they'd half-heartedly offered him.
All he remembered was the queen, smilingly like it'd been a fucking surprise party.
The one line from Rounders kept ringing in his head:
"It happens to everyone, from time to time, everyone goes bust. You'll be back in the game before you know it."
Fuck that. Fuck this game. Fuck all of it.
But Deck also knew he wasn't going to get a regular job any time soon.
He stumbled out into the predawn morning. The sky was the color of the red $500 chips they'd been using. A few stars lingered stubbornly in the sky, daring the sun to rise.
He felt sorry for them as he watched the sun climb lazily over the horizon.
-------------
Ugh, remind me to compile all this stuff soon. Poor Deck is so disjointed. He deserves a nice stable life.
I wish somebody would write me a nice stable life too.
Well, I haven't exactly been kind to him either. But I write what I know about, and bad beats... let's just say I know 'em pretty well by now. Besides, who the fuck wants a happy ending anyways?
Really, this post was just so I could come up for some fresh air, before I dive back into this little septic tank happily labeled "IB, Senior Year, 1st Semester."
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
Tired
Maybe Deck was right. Maybe if he could have asked God, He would have told him to do the same thing.
It didn't matter a damned bit though.
It'd taken him a long time to learn that particular lesson, but he finally had. Sometimes, being right just didn't matter.
Poker is probably the only game in existence where one player can do all the work, figure out all the angles, make all the right moves, trick his opponent into making a horrible decision, and still lose.
He'd been doing all the work for years now. He'd gradually moved up, from $0.05/$0.10 NL tables online, all the way to this, the $50/$100 NL game that went on in the basement of his regular cardroom 2 or 3 times a year.
He'd paid his fuckin' dues. He'd watched the donkeys river their miracle outs, and he'd taken it all without saying a fuckin' word. He just shook his head, and waited for the dealer to deal out the next hand.
And it had paid off. Little by little, his $1000 bankroll (borrowed from a friend whom he'd long since paid back) had grown. And when he finally heard about this game, the game, he didn't hesitate for an instant. He collected his little over $30,000, and he jumped in.
At first he'd been scared to death. Played a total of 3 hands in the first hour. Won the blinds once and folded on the flop the other two times.
He sat and he watched. He observed as the other players made their moves, seasoned veterans who didn't give this upstart a second glance. But he was watching them. And they introduced themselves to him slowly, through their actions and through their cards, if not through words. And so it was that after about two hours, he knew these guys as if he'd known them all his life. He discovered the shy, quiet one, the one who never had a lot of friends in high school, the one who was still a virgin. He found the loud, boorish guy, overaggressive and not afraid to show it, the one who had been picked on a lot when he was a kid and was now compensating for it at the table. It was crystal clear, to anyone who could observe the way he could.
So it was no surprise really when after about 12 hours, Deck looked down and found almost $70,000 in chips in front of him. And it wasn't much of a surprise either when he looked down to see two black Aces in the hole. It was about time, he figured.
"Make it $350," he pronounced.
Folded around to the button, who was what passed for the "table captain" here. He looked at his cards as slowly as if he was casually playing a nickel/dime home game. Deck stared unobtrusively at the empty green felt in the center of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Deck caught the barest stirring of excitement. But the guy was as nonchalant as ever when he finally acted, after some choreographed meditation.
"Alright, I'll gamble wit ya'," he said as he splashed his chips into the pot.
Both blinds folded and the flop came down like an angel from heaven for Deck,
A-Q-3, the most beautiful rainbow Deck was sure he had ever seen.
He didn't let any hint of emotion leak through the iron mask of indifference on his face. He paused ambiguously, and decided to bet out into this $850 pot. The other guy wouldn't give up his Captain status without a fight.
"Bet a grand," he announced with an evenness that gave away as much indication of strength as it did of a bluff.
Captain didn't even blink. The raise was instantaneous.
"Pocket kings no good, I'll make it $5,000 more," he boasted with a grin.
Deck knew what he was trying to do. Captain had put him on a premium hand alright, but he didn't suspect pocket Aces. The guy was exuding more confidence by the minute, and he knew it. He wanted Deck to see it. What Deck had noticed about this guy was, he was good, and he knew he was good, but he just didn't think anyone else at the table was better than him. He knew there were some guys here that could make a good read, that could sniff out a bluff and reraise with the worst hand themselves. That's what he wanted Deck to pick up on. He wanted Deck to think that he was showing as much confidence as he could, because he was trying to run Deck over with nothing much himself.
So what would Deck do if he thought the Captain was muscling him out?
"Call," after several seconds from a pretense of deliberation.
Call, because it showed that he suspected something was up. That maybe this Captain was trying to run him over, but that he wasn't sure. Deck knew that's what the guy would think.
Turn was a useless 7, with four different suits on the board.
"Check," he said, while adding the slightest tinge of weakness to his voice by seemingly trying to accomplish the rarely successful strong-check.
"No free cards, it'll be 10 grand to see that river."
Damn, he was even cockier now, getting more carried away with himself.
Deck knew he had him. He couldn't read his cards, but his confidence was the type that was borne of having complete information. He knew more than the other guy, plain and simple.
He decided not to stall anymore, afraid to spoil the perfect act so far by dragging it out longer than it had to be. The hand Captain thought Deck had would most likely be A-K, he told himself. So if he felt like Captain was muscling him, he would raise, right here, right now.
"I'm all-in," he said, trying to mask his omnipotence by acting more confident than he should have been, as if the confidence itself could shield the A-K that the Captain thought Deck had.
And Captain counted his chips, and had Deck's last $51,650 covered by a grand. He called, not because he had thought through the hand and reached any sort of decision, but because the entire hand had played out exactly the way he had envisioned it.
Two plus two makes four, but just because you got four doesn't mean you added two plus two to get there.
The Captain flipped up two Queens as if they were a foregone conclusion.
As Deck turned over his cards, his gaze was squarely on the Captain's face. He would've laughed if he hadn't seen the same thing so many times before. There is no greater humiliation than having a hand play out exactly the way you wanted it, and then finding out you were so utterly wrong from the beginning. It's worse than any other feeling in the world, because the other guy did everything you wanted him to, but somehow you were still dead wrong. The Captain's face twisted, from what had been amusement and self-righteous smugness, to something unrecognizable. It was the face of a man who doesn't even know he's sick when they tell him he has a month to live.
Still one more card to come.
And wouldn't you know it?
The Queen of diamonds looked Deck square in the eye, and laughed.
It didn't matter a damned bit though.
It'd taken him a long time to learn that particular lesson, but he finally had. Sometimes, being right just didn't matter.
Poker is probably the only game in existence where one player can do all the work, figure out all the angles, make all the right moves, trick his opponent into making a horrible decision, and still lose.
He'd been doing all the work for years now. He'd gradually moved up, from $0.05/$0.10 NL tables online, all the way to this, the $50/$100 NL game that went on in the basement of his regular cardroom 2 or 3 times a year.
He'd paid his fuckin' dues. He'd watched the donkeys river their miracle outs, and he'd taken it all without saying a fuckin' word. He just shook his head, and waited for the dealer to deal out the next hand.
And it had paid off. Little by little, his $1000 bankroll (borrowed from a friend whom he'd long since paid back) had grown. And when he finally heard about this game, the game, he didn't hesitate for an instant. He collected his little over $30,000, and he jumped in.
At first he'd been scared to death. Played a total of 3 hands in the first hour. Won the blinds once and folded on the flop the other two times.
He sat and he watched. He observed as the other players made their moves, seasoned veterans who didn't give this upstart a second glance. But he was watching them. And they introduced themselves to him slowly, through their actions and through their cards, if not through words. And so it was that after about two hours, he knew these guys as if he'd known them all his life. He discovered the shy, quiet one, the one who never had a lot of friends in high school, the one who was still a virgin. He found the loud, boorish guy, overaggressive and not afraid to show it, the one who had been picked on a lot when he was a kid and was now compensating for it at the table. It was crystal clear, to anyone who could observe the way he could.
So it was no surprise really when after about 12 hours, Deck looked down and found almost $70,000 in chips in front of him. And it wasn't much of a surprise either when he looked down to see two black Aces in the hole. It was about time, he figured.
"Make it $350," he pronounced.
Folded around to the button, who was what passed for the "table captain" here. He looked at his cards as slowly as if he was casually playing a nickel/dime home game. Deck stared unobtrusively at the empty green felt in the center of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Deck caught the barest stirring of excitement. But the guy was as nonchalant as ever when he finally acted, after some choreographed meditation.
"Alright, I'll gamble wit ya'," he said as he splashed his chips into the pot.
Both blinds folded and the flop came down like an angel from heaven for Deck,
A-Q-3, the most beautiful rainbow Deck was sure he had ever seen.
He didn't let any hint of emotion leak through the iron mask of indifference on his face. He paused ambiguously, and decided to bet out into this $850 pot. The other guy wouldn't give up his Captain status without a fight.
"Bet a grand," he announced with an evenness that gave away as much indication of strength as it did of a bluff.
Captain didn't even blink. The raise was instantaneous.
"Pocket kings no good, I'll make it $5,000 more," he boasted with a grin.
Deck knew what he was trying to do. Captain had put him on a premium hand alright, but he didn't suspect pocket Aces. The guy was exuding more confidence by the minute, and he knew it. He wanted Deck to see it. What Deck had noticed about this guy was, he was good, and he knew he was good, but he just didn't think anyone else at the table was better than him. He knew there were some guys here that could make a good read, that could sniff out a bluff and reraise with the worst hand themselves. That's what he wanted Deck to pick up on. He wanted Deck to think that he was showing as much confidence as he could, because he was trying to run Deck over with nothing much himself.
So what would Deck do if he thought the Captain was muscling him out?
"Call," after several seconds from a pretense of deliberation.
Call, because it showed that he suspected something was up. That maybe this Captain was trying to run him over, but that he wasn't sure. Deck knew that's what the guy would think.
Turn was a useless 7, with four different suits on the board.
"Check," he said, while adding the slightest tinge of weakness to his voice by seemingly trying to accomplish the rarely successful strong-check.
"No free cards, it'll be 10 grand to see that river."
Damn, he was even cockier now, getting more carried away with himself.
Deck knew he had him. He couldn't read his cards, but his confidence was the type that was borne of having complete information. He knew more than the other guy, plain and simple.
He decided not to stall anymore, afraid to spoil the perfect act so far by dragging it out longer than it had to be. The hand Captain thought Deck had would most likely be A-K, he told himself. So if he felt like Captain was muscling him, he would raise, right here, right now.
"I'm all-in," he said, trying to mask his omnipotence by acting more confident than he should have been, as if the confidence itself could shield the A-K that the Captain thought Deck had.
And Captain counted his chips, and had Deck's last $51,650 covered by a grand. He called, not because he had thought through the hand and reached any sort of decision, but because the entire hand had played out exactly the way he had envisioned it.
Two plus two makes four, but just because you got four doesn't mean you added two plus two to get there.
The Captain flipped up two Queens as if they were a foregone conclusion.
As Deck turned over his cards, his gaze was squarely on the Captain's face. He would've laughed if he hadn't seen the same thing so many times before. There is no greater humiliation than having a hand play out exactly the way you wanted it, and then finding out you were so utterly wrong from the beginning. It's worse than any other feeling in the world, because the other guy did everything you wanted him to, but somehow you were still dead wrong. The Captain's face twisted, from what had been amusement and self-righteous smugness, to something unrecognizable. It was the face of a man who doesn't even know he's sick when they tell him he has a month to live.
Still one more card to come.
And wouldn't you know it?
The Queen of diamonds looked Deck square in the eye, and laughed.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Nothing Special
Good title... now I just need a story to go with it.
I'm thinking... kid in high school in middle of nowhere, valedictorian, wants to get the fuck out of there as quick as he can since he thinks it's nothing special, leaves his friends behind, goes to Harvard, finds out it's nothing special either, then regrets leaving his friends behind...
Throw in some alcohol, some poker games, a hooker or three, maybe a car accident, and bam!
Literary crap still.
::sigh::
Back to the goddamned drawing board.
I'm thinking... kid in high school in middle of nowhere, valedictorian, wants to get the fuck out of there as quick as he can since he thinks it's nothing special, leaves his friends behind, goes to Harvard, finds out it's nothing special either, then regrets leaving his friends behind...
Throw in some alcohol, some poker games, a hooker or three, maybe a car accident, and bam!
Literary crap still.
::sigh::
Back to the goddamned drawing board.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Things You'll Find Out About Yourself while Filling Out an Application
"Name?"
(translation: what do you want on your death certificate, since you didn't have all that much say about your birth certificate?)
"Why did you consider volunteering here?"
(who exactly will be responsible for your death should you not work enough hours here?)
"Previous employment?"
(what do you know how to do?)
"Hobbies, interests, and skills? "
(what do you think you know how to do, and what would you like to pretend to do?)
"Have you ever been convicted of a felony?"
(if yes, then you're a menace to society; if no, then you suck and have pretty much never done anything cool in your life)
"Please provide two non-family references we may contact."
(who do we call to find out what you did to whose cat when you were how old?)
I think completing applications is one of the most introspective activities I ever undertake. I mean, here's a chance to finally figure out who you are, written on a sheet of paper. Stop pretending; now's your chance to make it official.
Maybe you'll find out how many awesome things you've done already. Or maybe you'll find out how useless your 17+ years on this green Earth have really been.
Enjoy!
(translation: what do you want on your death certificate, since you didn't have all that much say about your birth certificate?)
"Why did you consider volunteering here?"
(who exactly will be responsible for your death should you not work enough hours here?)
"Previous employment?"
(what do you know how to do?)
"Hobbies, interests, and skills? "
(what do you think you know how to do, and what would you like to pretend to do?)
"Have you ever been convicted of a felony?"
(if yes, then you're a menace to society; if no, then you suck and have pretty much never done anything cool in your life)
"Please provide two non-family references we may contact."
(who do we call to find out what you did to whose cat when you were how old?)
I think completing applications is one of the most introspective activities I ever undertake. I mean, here's a chance to finally figure out who you are, written on a sheet of paper. Stop pretending; now's your chance to make it official.
Maybe you'll find out how many awesome things you've done already. Or maybe you'll find out how useless your 17+ years on this green Earth have really been.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Don't Panic
(Doug Adams will save my life yet...)
These days, life is filled with nothing but worrying and pancking. Deadlines missed, phone calls unreturned, conversations and relationships left hanging, and a million and seven other things to do that I will never get around to. I don't have spare time; I spend it worrying about what I should be doing.
Live each day afraid that you'll fuck up the next, and odds are you will. Such is the irony of our existence. Really that's probably the best available evidence that God exists; life would be too much of a goddamned coincidence to just all happen by accident. Nature can't have a sense of humor, but whoever is in charge of the show obviously does.
Live each day remembering what you forgot to do yesterday, and odds are, you'll never run out of things to remember. So far as us mortals are concerned, time flows linearly. Hence, the past is just like a handicapped parking spot: don't even think about it.
Learn what you can from what you have (or have not) done, and then let it settle into the muddy depths of your mind. There's no need to stir it up everyday. It serves no purpose, other than to muck up everything else until you can't see straight.
Prepare for the future, but don't stress about it. What will come, will come. It's like trying to predict what you're going to get dealt next hand; just play the cards you get, whatever they may be. You can't change them. All you can do is be ready, and know what to do with them.
Don't panic.
Don't look back.
Don't look too far ahead.
Make each moment mean something. Focus on what you can control. Fold your trash hands, watch your opponents, and stay sharp.
The cards will come, in time.
These days, life is filled with nothing but worrying and pancking. Deadlines missed, phone calls unreturned, conversations and relationships left hanging, and a million and seven other things to do that I will never get around to. I don't have spare time; I spend it worrying about what I should be doing.
Live each day afraid that you'll fuck up the next, and odds are you will. Such is the irony of our existence. Really that's probably the best available evidence that God exists; life would be too much of a goddamned coincidence to just all happen by accident. Nature can't have a sense of humor, but whoever is in charge of the show obviously does.
Live each day remembering what you forgot to do yesterday, and odds are, you'll never run out of things to remember. So far as us mortals are concerned, time flows linearly. Hence, the past is just like a handicapped parking spot: don't even think about it.
Learn what you can from what you have (or have not) done, and then let it settle into the muddy depths of your mind. There's no need to stir it up everyday. It serves no purpose, other than to muck up everything else until you can't see straight.
Prepare for the future, but don't stress about it. What will come, will come. It's like trying to predict what you're going to get dealt next hand; just play the cards you get, whatever they may be. You can't change them. All you can do is be ready, and know what to do with them.
Don't panic.
Don't look back.
Don't look too far ahead.
Make each moment mean something. Focus on what you can control. Fold your trash hands, watch your opponents, and stay sharp.
The cards will come, in time.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Keys to Success: (1) Redundancy
I downloaded Blogger for Word yesterday. It was one of those moments where you see something and you think, "gee, wouldn't that be nice to have?"
-------------
"Well I dunno Cody, would you really use it?"
"Well yeah Cody, I would. See, now I won't have to fire up the old Firefox browser everytime I want to blog."
"But Word is so ugly."
"Gee Cody, maybe you're right."
"No Cody, I think you're right."
-------------
Anyways, I convinced myself that this was something that I really absolutely must have. Just like my Google Desktop Search, my Gmail account, my Paradise Poker account, and maybe my Life in general. I fear boredom more than I fear Death. Which is why I have taken up the habit of doing everything more times than I should even have considered doing in the first place.
It's also a fun habit to have for conversations. Just ask the other person for confirmation of everything they just said to you, even if you heard it the first time. Redundancy. It will save a lot of marriages where the couple believes that they have nothing to talk about. Look:
-------------
"Hey Cody, what's up?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said, 'what's up?' "
"Oh, uh, not much, how about you?"
"Same, same."
"Did you say it was the same for you?"
"Uhh, yeah, I did."
"Was that a yes?"
"Look, I'm gonna go... over there... now... to talk to... uhh... bye!"
-------------
That's right. Run.
-------------
"Well I dunno Cody, would you really use it?"
"Well yeah Cody, I would. See, now I won't have to fire up the old Firefox browser everytime I want to blog."
"But Word is so ugly."
"Gee Cody, maybe you're right."
"No Cody, I think you're right."
-------------
Anyways, I convinced myself that this was something that I really absolutely must have. Just like my Google Desktop Search, my Gmail account, my Paradise Poker account, and maybe my Life in general. I fear boredom more than I fear Death. Which is why I have taken up the habit of doing everything more times than I should even have considered doing in the first place.
It's also a fun habit to have for conversations. Just ask the other person for confirmation of everything they just said to you, even if you heard it the first time. Redundancy. It will save a lot of marriages where the couple believes that they have nothing to talk about. Look:
-------------
"Hey Cody, what's up?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said, 'what's up?' "
"Oh, uh, not much, how about you?"
"Same, same."
"Did you say it was the same for you?"
"Uhh, yeah, I did."
"Was that a yes?"
"Look, I'm gonna go... over there... now... to talk to... uhh... bye!"
-------------
That's right. Run.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Real World: Palm Harbor
Six IB students. One house. See what happens when we stop being polite, and start being real.
-------------
"Oh my God, have you looked at this Spanish homework yet?"
"No, why?"
"Well, it's... it's... disgusting."
"You want to talk about disgusting? There are actually blood stains in my HL Math book, from the kids who've committed suicide over it."
"You wuss, HL Spanish is definitely harder!"
"My ass!"
"What, you want a piece of this, bring it on!"
"What are you going to do, shove a burrito up my ass?"
"And what about you, are you just going to throw equations at me?"
"That's it bitch, I'm gonna beat your ass so hard, you'll wish you were a null set."
-------------
-------------
"Oh my God, have you looked at this Spanish homework yet?"
"No, why?"
"Well, it's... it's... disgusting."
"You want to talk about disgusting? There are actually blood stains in my HL Math book, from the kids who've committed suicide over it."
"You wuss, HL Spanish is definitely harder!"
"My ass!"
"What, you want a piece of this, bring it on!"
"What are you going to do, shove a burrito up my ass?"
"And what about you, are you just going to throw equations at me?"
"That's it bitch, I'm gonna beat your ass so hard, you'll wish you were a null set."
-------------
Monday, August 15, 2005
Lost and Found
A few days ago, our pet gopher tortoise Moz disappeared from the backyard of our residence in Oldsmar. Moz had been relaxing in the backyard, and had been left alone for about five minutes before it was noticed that she was no longer visible. A frantic search was mounted, with no immediate results. Several days earlier, she had been accidentally thrown out with the trash when no one noticed that she was occupying one of the boxes to be discarded. Perhaps she had decided to run away for good.
Or perhaps not.
She was discovered again this afternoon. You see, gopher tortoises are so-named for their burrowing habits, much like a gopher's. Well, she had taken up residence, in our backyard. A little mound of gray dirt stood adjacent to an entrance almost exactly in the shape of her profile. Apparently she's grown accustomed to this clime.
Welcome home, Moz.
(Note: All you folks with the "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours. If not, it never was."-thing, this just goes to show that, tortoises are people too.)
Or perhaps not.
She was discovered again this afternoon. You see, gopher tortoises are so-named for their burrowing habits, much like a gopher's. Well, she had taken up residence, in our backyard. A little mound of gray dirt stood adjacent to an entrance almost exactly in the shape of her profile. Apparently she's grown accustomed to this clime.
Welcome home, Moz.
(Note: All you folks with the "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours. If not, it never was."-thing, this just goes to show that, tortoises are people too.)
Friday, August 12, 2005
There is More to Life than Poker
"Did you know Cody, there's more to life than just poker?"
"Oh, and what makes you say that?"
"Are we going to argue this just for the heck of it?"
"Only if you're ready to get your ass kicked. Mentally speaking."
"Bring it on ya dirty chink."
......
"Far, far below the belt."
"Withdrawn."
"So let's do this, seriously. Name me an example."
"Meeting new people, getting out and seeing the world, making new friends, those are all big parts of life."
"They're also things I can do in a cardroom."
"You do this solely to kill me by annoying me."
"I'm not kidding. Spend 20 years in a cardroom, and you'll meet people from all over the world. You'll meet people from all walks of life. Amateurs, pros, donkeys, sharks, flounders, rocks, you'll see 'em all. Some of them you might like, some of them you might not. It's tough, but you can make a few friends if you're honest about it."
"I don't like it, but I might have to give you that one."
......
"You have anything else left?"
"Hmm, what about love?"
"I love aces in the hole."
"You know what I mean."
"Play this game long enough, you'll know what I mean too."
"It's just that though, poker is a game. You can't tell me the only thing you love in this world is a stupid card game."
"And what do you love? Your stupid pet dog? Your stupid car? Your stupid boyfriend? Your stupid career? Your stupid friends? Everything is stupid, if you want to call it that."
"So what are you saying, that life has no meaning and poker is as good as any other thing we might do?"
"No. Life will take on whatever meaning you want or need it to have. Poker is just one medium of expression, in that sense. It's one of those few opportunities for you to completely control the kind of person, the kind of player, that you are. Life is a million little things added together that you never take apart and change, but a poker player can change whatever it is that he needs to. Tighten up, loosen up, raise, fold, bluff, value bet, it's all up to you."
"And the cards?"
"The cards are just tools. What you do with them is up to you."
"Do you believe in luck, then?"
"Luck is a test. Good or bad, you have to test yourself each time you're given either one."
......
"I can't say that I agree with you Cody, but I can understand what you mean."
"Thanks."
"I'm glad you believe in me."
"Of course, Lady Luck."
"Oh, and what makes you say that?"
"Are we going to argue this just for the heck of it?"
"Only if you're ready to get your ass kicked. Mentally speaking."
"Bring it on ya dirty chink."
......
"Far, far below the belt."
"Withdrawn."
"So let's do this, seriously. Name me an example."
"Meeting new people, getting out and seeing the world, making new friends, those are all big parts of life."
"They're also things I can do in a cardroom."
"You do this solely to kill me by annoying me."
"I'm not kidding. Spend 20 years in a cardroom, and you'll meet people from all over the world. You'll meet people from all walks of life. Amateurs, pros, donkeys, sharks, flounders, rocks, you'll see 'em all. Some of them you might like, some of them you might not. It's tough, but you can make a few friends if you're honest about it."
"I don't like it, but I might have to give you that one."
......
"You have anything else left?"
"Hmm, what about love?"
"I love aces in the hole."
"You know what I mean."
"Play this game long enough, you'll know what I mean too."
"It's just that though, poker is a game. You can't tell me the only thing you love in this world is a stupid card game."
"And what do you love? Your stupid pet dog? Your stupid car? Your stupid boyfriend? Your stupid career? Your stupid friends? Everything is stupid, if you want to call it that."
"So what are you saying, that life has no meaning and poker is as good as any other thing we might do?"
"No. Life will take on whatever meaning you want or need it to have. Poker is just one medium of expression, in that sense. It's one of those few opportunities for you to completely control the kind of person, the kind of player, that you are. Life is a million little things added together that you never take apart and change, but a poker player can change whatever it is that he needs to. Tighten up, loosen up, raise, fold, bluff, value bet, it's all up to you."
"And the cards?"
"The cards are just tools. What you do with them is up to you."
"Do you believe in luck, then?"
"Luck is a test. Good or bad, you have to test yourself each time you're given either one."
......
"I can't say that I agree with you Cody, but I can understand what you mean."
"Thanks."
"I'm glad you believe in me."
"Of course, Lady Luck."
Thursday, August 11, 2005
The Value of not Looking Up
Just put your head down and trudge onward.
Looking up will often strain your overextended neck, hurt your squinting eyes, and tire your buzzing mind, if not worse. Often the too-long awaited dream ceases to be a dream, becoming only the ghost of one. One is haunted by the things that one sees, when one tries to look up and look too far.
The pots will come. You know they will. Put your game on autopilot. Don't get impatient. Don't get stupid. And it'll come. Sooner or later, it'll come. The one beautiful pot. K-K vs. A-K. Flop, A-9-K.
It'll happen.
"Rolled up aces over kings. Check-raising stupid tourists and taking huge pots off of them. Playing all-night high-limit Hold'em at the Taj, 'where the sand turns to gold.' Stacks and towers of checks I can't even see over."
You won't even have to try. When the time comes, it'll be just... perfect.
Until then, you just have to put in the hours. Just wait. Pay your dues. Do what they tell you you have to do. Somebody up there is keeping tabs. Trust me.
Looking up will often strain your overextended neck, hurt your squinting eyes, and tire your buzzing mind, if not worse. Often the too-long awaited dream ceases to be a dream, becoming only the ghost of one. One is haunted by the things that one sees, when one tries to look up and look too far.
The pots will come. You know they will. Put your game on autopilot. Don't get impatient. Don't get stupid. And it'll come. Sooner or later, it'll come. The one beautiful pot. K-K vs. A-K. Flop, A-9-K.
It'll happen.
"Rolled up aces over kings. Check-raising stupid tourists and taking huge pots off of them. Playing all-night high-limit Hold'em at the Taj, 'where the sand turns to gold.' Stacks and towers of checks I can't even see over."
You won't even have to try. When the time comes, it'll be just... perfect.
Until then, you just have to put in the hours. Just wait. Pay your dues. Do what they tell you you have to do. Somebody up there is keeping tabs. Trust me.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
It is what it is
Worst Beats of the 2005 National Convention (all played at $.10/$.20 NL hold'em):
1) K-K vs. 8h-2h
I raise on the button with K-K, for $.50 more. Mike "Peaches" Ge calls from the BB, and everyone else folded. Flop is 8 high, with one heart. Check, I bet out, $1.50 (pot was $1.50 at that point). Call. Turn, 5 of hearts. Peaches bets $1.00, I raise, $3.50 more. Called, which was about 70% of his stack. Needless to say, the river was the ace of hearts.
2) A-A vs. 10-10
John "Chalky Queens" Bavlsik raised in early position, for $.50 more. Wake up with Aces in the cutoff, and reraise $2 more. Called, flop comes K-9-3. He bet, I call. Turn is, another 10. All-in, and I guess I could have laid it down.
3) combined, K-K vs. A-Q, twice against Peaches
My personal favorite: twice, everyone folds around to me in the small blind, and I fold as well, to A-A in the big blind (once Rain had it, once Peaches).
Oh yeah, we all got poker nicknames now.
I'm "Peanuts."
1) K-K vs. 8h-2h
I raise on the button with K-K, for $.50 more. Mike "Peaches" Ge calls from the BB, and everyone else folded. Flop is 8 high, with one heart. Check, I bet out, $1.50 (pot was $1.50 at that point). Call. Turn, 5 of hearts. Peaches bets $1.00, I raise, $3.50 more. Called, which was about 70% of his stack. Needless to say, the river was the ace of hearts.
2) A-A vs. 10-10
John "Chalky Queens" Bavlsik raised in early position, for $.50 more. Wake up with Aces in the cutoff, and reraise $2 more. Called, flop comes K-9-3. He bet, I call. Turn is, another 10. All-in, and I guess I could have laid it down.
3) combined, K-K vs. A-Q, twice against Peaches
My personal favorite: twice, everyone folds around to me in the small blind, and I fold as well, to A-A in the big blind (once Rain had it, once Peaches).
Oh yeah, we all got poker nicknames now.
I'm "Peanuts."
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