Another kid Another dream tl;dr
06-16-2015
, 09:58 PM
Tear In My Heart
“LOST ANOTHERRRR FLIP Johnny” The 9 seat yelled loud enough for the lone member of his rail to hear. Johnny nodded feeling for his friends misfortune. But more telling was post-nod when he left the room, perhaps embarrassed to have an adult friend whose two days of incredible fortune weren’t enough to contain his childish tendencies.
You, mister entitled superstar, are my new target.
Maybe I’m being too hard on him, I empathized from the 8 as he counted his now depleted stack of tournament chips, a feeling that all poker players know too well. He looked to me as Johnny was gone. “If I could win a god damn flip, I’d already be at the final table.”
Or Maybe I’m not.
It’s refreshing to villianize opponents. A break from the “we’re in this together” culture of the small buy in tournaments. Because tournament poker isn’t like that. It’s a war of exploitation and preying on the weak. Raising the blinds of the pay jumpers, and 3betting the opens of the thieves. THESE aren’t your friends, they’re lunch. And without finding food in your nine seated territory, you too will end up at the pay counter wondering where it all went wrong.
I peeled the corner of the first card dealt, a black Ace. And although we’d been told by dealers not to squeeze the newly cheapened WSOP playing cards, old habits die hard. I squeezed the 2nd one. No sides. Red. It’s a heart. It’s the Ace of hearts.
I came in for the minimum raise of $20,000, a total that wouldn’t last two players. “I’m all in” i heard from the 9 seat as he counted out 290,000 in tournament chips. My call was met with the proud flip of AKo, a tough opponent for almost any hand. But as soon as my Aces were tabled he knew his run was over. “PAY OUT” he screamed before the flop was dealt, his final plea for justice. The board brought him none as I counted out my new total, stack by stack. 800…900…1 million chips.
It was my first time crossing the imaginary mark, as I looked up at the board for the Monster Stack tournament. 7,192 players began, 4 days before, and now only 99 remained. I momentarily scanned the remaining tables. One of us would be recipient of 1.3 million dollars and a wsop gold bracelet.
“Baby I need to play this tournament today” I told my girlfriend as she rolled over from her side of the bed. Not exactly the best way to wake her up. I’d made a promise for a date night amidst my busy summertime schedule, but those now were just weightless words floating in my overcrowded land of empty promises. She was understanding or maybe just used to it by now; Keeping her true feelings bottled up until the next night of too much wine and too little attention from her narrow-minded boyfriend.
It’s not something I’m proud of but as habits become behaviors, and behaviors become traits, I’ve begun to recognize myself as accomplishment driven, or the less flattering, selfish.
But that’s a worry for another day I told myself as the Monster Stack popped off the page of the WSOP schedule. Touted as the “mini main event” its one of the $1500 events that no limit players can’t skip. Plus after a top 5% showing in the Colossus and 17th place finish in the 1k Turbo, the sweet taste of success was resting on my upper lip, just beyond the reach of my outstretched tongue.
This summer had been different for me. Instead of fighting the crowds for live high stakes cash, I’d been staying home and logging on under the alias CanIKickIt to battle the midstakes online lineups. Unintentionally ,the new challenge was eye opening for my tournament poker game. Instead of sitting 500bbs deep and scaling my strategy around positioning for huge pots, I was taking aim at stealing blinds and eliminating careless early street mistakes.
“Tomorrow baby” I promise her monotonically one last time as I leave the house, hoping my excitement isn’t as glaringly obvious on the outside as it feels on the inside.
Six tables remained as we we’d just hit another pay jump. $24,175, not bad for a $1500 investment, but peanuts compared to what awaited the winner. Overopening hadn’t gained me much in the form of chipping up, but the curiosity of mucked cards has a powerful pull and I knew these guys could feel it.
With a stack of 1.4m it folded to me on the btn with A
K
. The big blind was 60k, 4 times the amount of what I started with on Saturday. I postured before making a min raise, hoping this was the time that patience expired. The sb gave it the image protecting fake consideration before folding. Now it was on the big blind, an amateur, he’d flown all the way from Brazil for this tournament. As the seconds ticked on, my chance of doubling grew stronger. “I’m all in” he finally said as I took a breath before confidently moving my stack of 100k chips into the middle.
“Aces” he told me before flipping them over. For a split second, I thought he was kidding. I had an ace. How could this happen to me? As his words were confirmed I felt a tear in my chest, filling my body with overwhelming helplessness as my run at the bracelet was coming to an end.
I looked away as I often do when all in flops are dropped, rather feeling the sweat through tablemate reactions. And then it happened. A gasp from the sb. My eyes darted to the board. Had I flopped two Kings? Maybe a straight? Q
92
. “I would’ve sucked out” he laughed, failing to recognize the moments magnitude in my world.
Maybe this was punishment for my selfish ways, the same way my Aces broke seat 9’s entitlement just hours earlier. But more likely that type of karmic justice is only a mystical hypothesis for mass variance and a lifetime that won’t fulfill a significant sample. Good guys finish last, bad guys finish first, and everything in-between.
But I do plan on getting better. On keeping my word, becoming more accessible, and turning my narrow focus back to a well-rounded existence.
Just in case there’s another deep run.
MM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MB1K38BPzB8
“LOST ANOTHERRRR FLIP Johnny” The 9 seat yelled loud enough for the lone member of his rail to hear. Johnny nodded feeling for his friends misfortune. But more telling was post-nod when he left the room, perhaps embarrassed to have an adult friend whose two days of incredible fortune weren’t enough to contain his childish tendencies.
You, mister entitled superstar, are my new target.
Maybe I’m being too hard on him, I empathized from the 8 as he counted his now depleted stack of tournament chips, a feeling that all poker players know too well. He looked to me as Johnny was gone. “If I could win a god damn flip, I’d already be at the final table.”
Or Maybe I’m not.
It’s refreshing to villianize opponents. A break from the “we’re in this together” culture of the small buy in tournaments. Because tournament poker isn’t like that. It’s a war of exploitation and preying on the weak. Raising the blinds of the pay jumpers, and 3betting the opens of the thieves. THESE aren’t your friends, they’re lunch. And without finding food in your nine seated territory, you too will end up at the pay counter wondering where it all went wrong.
I peeled the corner of the first card dealt, a black Ace. And although we’d been told by dealers not to squeeze the newly cheapened WSOP playing cards, old habits die hard. I squeezed the 2nd one. No sides. Red. It’s a heart. It’s the Ace of hearts.
I came in for the minimum raise of $20,000, a total that wouldn’t last two players. “I’m all in” i heard from the 9 seat as he counted out 290,000 in tournament chips. My call was met with the proud flip of AKo, a tough opponent for almost any hand. But as soon as my Aces were tabled he knew his run was over. “PAY OUT” he screamed before the flop was dealt, his final plea for justice. The board brought him none as I counted out my new total, stack by stack. 800…900…1 million chips.
It was my first time crossing the imaginary mark, as I looked up at the board for the Monster Stack tournament. 7,192 players began, 4 days before, and now only 99 remained. I momentarily scanned the remaining tables. One of us would be recipient of 1.3 million dollars and a wsop gold bracelet.
“Baby I need to play this tournament today” I told my girlfriend as she rolled over from her side of the bed. Not exactly the best way to wake her up. I’d made a promise for a date night amidst my busy summertime schedule, but those now were just weightless words floating in my overcrowded land of empty promises. She was understanding or maybe just used to it by now; Keeping her true feelings bottled up until the next night of too much wine and too little attention from her narrow-minded boyfriend.
It’s not something I’m proud of but as habits become behaviors, and behaviors become traits, I’ve begun to recognize myself as accomplishment driven, or the less flattering, selfish.
But that’s a worry for another day I told myself as the Monster Stack popped off the page of the WSOP schedule. Touted as the “mini main event” its one of the $1500 events that no limit players can’t skip. Plus after a top 5% showing in the Colossus and 17th place finish in the 1k Turbo, the sweet taste of success was resting on my upper lip, just beyond the reach of my outstretched tongue.
This summer had been different for me. Instead of fighting the crowds for live high stakes cash, I’d been staying home and logging on under the alias CanIKickIt to battle the midstakes online lineups. Unintentionally ,the new challenge was eye opening for my tournament poker game. Instead of sitting 500bbs deep and scaling my strategy around positioning for huge pots, I was taking aim at stealing blinds and eliminating careless early street mistakes.
“Tomorrow baby” I promise her monotonically one last time as I leave the house, hoping my excitement isn’t as glaringly obvious on the outside as it feels on the inside.
Six tables remained as we we’d just hit another pay jump. $24,175, not bad for a $1500 investment, but peanuts compared to what awaited the winner. Overopening hadn’t gained me much in the form of chipping up, but the curiosity of mucked cards has a powerful pull and I knew these guys could feel it.
With a stack of 1.4m it folded to me on the btn with A
K. The big blind was 60k, 4 times the amount of what I started with on Saturday. I postured before making a min raise, hoping this was the time that patience expired. The sb gave it the image protecting fake consideration before folding. Now it was on the big blind, an amateur, he’d flown all the way from Brazil for this tournament. As the seconds ticked on, my chance of doubling grew stronger. “I’m all in” he finally said as I took a breath before confidently moving my stack of 100k chips into the middle.“Aces” he told me before flipping them over. For a split second, I thought he was kidding. I had an ace. How could this happen to me? As his words were confirmed I felt a tear in my chest, filling my body with overwhelming helplessness as my run at the bracelet was coming to an end.
I looked away as I often do when all in flops are dropped, rather feeling the sweat through tablemate reactions. And then it happened. A gasp from the sb. My eyes darted to the board. Had I flopped two Kings? Maybe a straight? Q
92. “I would’ve sucked out” he laughed, failing to recognize the moments magnitude in my world.Maybe this was punishment for my selfish ways, the same way my Aces broke seat 9’s entitlement just hours earlier. But more likely that type of karmic justice is only a mystical hypothesis for mass variance and a lifetime that won’t fulfill a significant sample. Good guys finish last, bad guys finish first, and everything in-between.
But I do plan on getting better. On keeping my word, becoming more accessible, and turning my narrow focus back to a well-rounded existence.
Just in case there’s another deep run.
MM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MB1K38BPzB8
06-16-2015
, 10:03 PM
06-16-2015
, 10:33 PM
06-17-2015
, 10:50 AM
06-17-2015
, 12:04 PM
06-22-2015
, 07:54 PM
Quote:
Tear In My Heart
“LOST ANOTHERRRR FLIP Johnny” The 9 seat yelled loud enough for the lone member of his rail to hear. Johnny nodded feeling for his friends misfortune. But more telling was post-nod when he left the room, perhaps embarrassed to have an adult friend whose two days of incredible fortune weren’t enough to contain his childish tendencies.
You, mister entitled superstar, are my new target.
Maybe I’m being too hard on him, I empathized from the 8 as he counted his now depleted stack of tournament chips, a feeling that all poker players know too well. He looked to me as Johnny was gone. “If I could win a god damn flip, I’d already be at the final table.”
Or Maybe I’m not.
It’s refreshing to villianize opponents. A break from the “we’re in this together” culture of the small buy in tournaments. Because tournament poker isn’t like that. It’s a war of exploitation and preying on the weak. Raising the blinds of the pay jumpers, and 3betting the opens of the thieves. THESE aren’t your friends, they’re lunch. And without finding food in your nine seated territory, you too will end up at the pay counter wondering where it all went wrong.
I peeled the corner of the first card dealt, a black Ace. And although we’d been told by dealers not to squeeze the newly cheapened WSOP playing cards, old habits die hard. I squeezed the 2nd one. No sides. Red. It’s a heart. It’s the Ace of hearts.
I came in for the minimum raise of $20,000, a total that wouldn’t last two players. “I’m all in” i heard from the 9 seat as he counted out 290,000 in tournament chips. My call was met with the proud flip of AKo, a tough opponent for almost any hand. But as soon as my Aces were tabled he knew his run was over. “PAY OUT” he screamed before the flop was dealt, his final plea for justice. The board brought him none as I counted out my new total, stack by stack. 800…900…1 million chips.
It was my first time crossing the imaginary mark, as I looked up at the board for the Monster Stack tournament. 7,192 players began, 4 days before, and now only 99 remained. I momentarily scanned the remaining tables. One of us would be recipient of 1.3 million dollars and a wsop gold bracelet.
“Baby I need to play this tournament today” I told my girlfriend as she rolled over from her side of the bed. Not exactly the best way to wake her up. I’d made a promise for a date night amidst my busy summertime schedule, but those now were just weightless words floating in my overcrowded land of empty promises. She was understanding or maybe just used to it by now; Keeping her true feelings bottled up until the next night of too much wine and too little attention from her narrow-minded boyfriend.
It’s not something I’m proud of but as habits become behaviors, and behaviors become traits, I’ve begun to recognize myself as accomplishment driven, or the less flattering, selfish.
But that’s a worry for another day I told myself as the Monster Stack popped off the page of the WSOP schedule. Touted as the “mini main event” its one of the $1500 events that no limit players can’t skip. Plus after a top 5% showing in the Colossus and 17th place finish in the 1k Turbo, the sweet taste of success was resting on my upper lip, just beyond the reach of my outstretched tongue.
This summer had been different for me. Instead of fighting the crowds for live high stakes cash, I’d been staying home and logging on under the alias CanIKickIt to battle the midstakes online lineups. Unintentionally ,the new challenge was eye opening for my tournament poker game. Instead of sitting 500bbs deep and scaling my strategy around positioning for huge pots, I was taking aim at stealing blinds and eliminating careless early street mistakes.
“Tomorrow baby” I promise her monotonically one last time as I leave the house, hoping my excitement isn’t as glaringly obvious on the outside as it feels on the inside.
Six tables remained as we we’d just hit another pay jump. $24,175, not bad for a $1500 investment, but peanuts compared to what awaited the winner. Overopening hadn’t gained me much in the form of chipping up, but the curiosity of mucked cards has a powerful pull and I knew these guys could feel it.
With a stack of 1.4m it folded to me on the btn with AK. The big blind was 60k, 4 times the amount of what I started with on Saturday. I postured before making a min raise, hoping this was the time that patience expired. The sb gave it the image protecting fake consideration before folding. Now it was on the big blind, an amateur, he’d flown all the way from Brazil for this tournament. As the seconds ticked on, my chance of doubling grew stronger. “I’m all in” he finally said as I took a breath before confidently moving my stack of 100k chips into the middle.
“Aces” he told me before flipping them over. For a split second, I thought he was kidding. I had an ace. How could this happen to me? As his words were confirmed I felt a tear in my chest, filling my body with overwhelming helplessness as my run at the bracelet was coming to an end.
I looked away as I often do when all in flops are dropped, rather feeling the sweat through tablemate reactions. And then it happened. A gasp from the sb. My eyes darted to the board. Had I flopped two Kings? Maybe a straight? Q92. “I would’ve sucked out” he laughed, failing to recognize the moments magnitude in my world.
Maybe this was punishment for my selfish ways, the same way my Aces broke seat 9’s entitlement just hours earlier. But more likely that type of karmic justice is only a mystical hypothesis for mass variance and a lifetime that won’t fulfill a significant sample. Good guys finish last, bad guys finish first, and everything in-between.
But I do plan on getting better. On keeping my word, becoming more accessible, and turning my narrow focus back to a well-rounded existence.
Just in case there’s another deep run.
MM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MB1K38BPzB8
“LOST ANOTHERRRR FLIP Johnny” The 9 seat yelled loud enough for the lone member of his rail to hear. Johnny nodded feeling for his friends misfortune. But more telling was post-nod when he left the room, perhaps embarrassed to have an adult friend whose two days of incredible fortune weren’t enough to contain his childish tendencies.
You, mister entitled superstar, are my new target.
Maybe I’m being too hard on him, I empathized from the 8 as he counted his now depleted stack of tournament chips, a feeling that all poker players know too well. He looked to me as Johnny was gone. “If I could win a god damn flip, I’d already be at the final table.”
Or Maybe I’m not.
It’s refreshing to villianize opponents. A break from the “we’re in this together” culture of the small buy in tournaments. Because tournament poker isn’t like that. It’s a war of exploitation and preying on the weak. Raising the blinds of the pay jumpers, and 3betting the opens of the thieves. THESE aren’t your friends, they’re lunch. And without finding food in your nine seated territory, you too will end up at the pay counter wondering where it all went wrong.
I peeled the corner of the first card dealt, a black Ace. And although we’d been told by dealers not to squeeze the newly cheapened WSOP playing cards, old habits die hard. I squeezed the 2nd one. No sides. Red. It’s a heart. It’s the Ace of hearts.
I came in for the minimum raise of $20,000, a total that wouldn’t last two players. “I’m all in” i heard from the 9 seat as he counted out 290,000 in tournament chips. My call was met with the proud flip of AKo, a tough opponent for almost any hand. But as soon as my Aces were tabled he knew his run was over. “PAY OUT” he screamed before the flop was dealt, his final plea for justice. The board brought him none as I counted out my new total, stack by stack. 800…900…1 million chips.
It was my first time crossing the imaginary mark, as I looked up at the board for the Monster Stack tournament. 7,192 players began, 4 days before, and now only 99 remained. I momentarily scanned the remaining tables. One of us would be recipient of 1.3 million dollars and a wsop gold bracelet.
“Baby I need to play this tournament today” I told my girlfriend as she rolled over from her side of the bed. Not exactly the best way to wake her up. I’d made a promise for a date night amidst my busy summertime schedule, but those now were just weightless words floating in my overcrowded land of empty promises. She was understanding or maybe just used to it by now; Keeping her true feelings bottled up until the next night of too much wine and too little attention from her narrow-minded boyfriend.
It’s not something I’m proud of but as habits become behaviors, and behaviors become traits, I’ve begun to recognize myself as accomplishment driven, or the less flattering, selfish.
But that’s a worry for another day I told myself as the Monster Stack popped off the page of the WSOP schedule. Touted as the “mini main event” its one of the $1500 events that no limit players can’t skip. Plus after a top 5% showing in the Colossus and 17th place finish in the 1k Turbo, the sweet taste of success was resting on my upper lip, just beyond the reach of my outstretched tongue.
This summer had been different for me. Instead of fighting the crowds for live high stakes cash, I’d been staying home and logging on under the alias CanIKickIt to battle the midstakes online lineups. Unintentionally ,the new challenge was eye opening for my tournament poker game. Instead of sitting 500bbs deep and scaling my strategy around positioning for huge pots, I was taking aim at stealing blinds and eliminating careless early street mistakes.
“Tomorrow baby” I promise her monotonically one last time as I leave the house, hoping my excitement isn’t as glaringly obvious on the outside as it feels on the inside.
Six tables remained as we we’d just hit another pay jump. $24,175, not bad for a $1500 investment, but peanuts compared to what awaited the winner. Overopening hadn’t gained me much in the form of chipping up, but the curiosity of mucked cards has a powerful pull and I knew these guys could feel it.
With a stack of 1.4m it folded to me on the btn with A
K. The big blind was 60k, 4 times the amount of what I started with on Saturday. I postured before making a min raise, hoping this was the time that patience expired. The sb gave it the image protecting fake consideration before folding. Now it was on the big blind, an amateur, he’d flown all the way from Brazil for this tournament. As the seconds ticked on, my chance of doubling grew stronger. “I’m all in” he finally said as I took a breath before confidently moving my stack of 100k chips into the middle.“Aces” he told me before flipping them over. For a split second, I thought he was kidding. I had an ace. How could this happen to me? As his words were confirmed I felt a tear in my chest, filling my body with overwhelming helplessness as my run at the bracelet was coming to an end.
I looked away as I often do when all in flops are dropped, rather feeling the sweat through tablemate reactions. And then it happened. A gasp from the sb. My eyes darted to the board. Had I flopped two Kings? Maybe a straight? Q
92. “I would’ve sucked out” he laughed, failing to recognize the moments magnitude in my world.Maybe this was punishment for my selfish ways, the same way my Aces broke seat 9’s entitlement just hours earlier. But more likely that type of karmic justice is only a mystical hypothesis for mass variance and a lifetime that won’t fulfill a significant sample. Good guys finish last, bad guys finish first, and everything in-between.
But I do plan on getting better. On keeping my word, becoming more accessible, and turning my narrow focus back to a well-rounded existence.
Just in case there’s another deep run.
MM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MB1K38BPzB8
06-23-2015
, 07:13 AM
06-23-2015
, 12:24 PM
06-24-2015
, 08:49 PM
