Joe Speaker

I’m about ready to snap. It’s been a terribly difficult week for a number of reasons and right now I feel like my nerve endings are poised for a freak out of monumental proportions. One I’ll be very embarrassed by later.

So I figure I’ll just ramble here for a little bit, since this won’t be my first embarrassing moment on teh intarwebs.

At present, there’s one person to whom I’d like to issue a verbal or written examination of  the “How Dare You?” variety, but I am not sure whether that’s because they deserve it or if my current mood is pestering me in that direction. I just know I’m left a little hangin’ here by a deafeningingly silent response, a state in which I did not expect to find myself when I gave up a bit of my soul for perusal. You’re familiar with anticipation. When you toss yourself on the alter of opinion, steel yourself for the reaction, good or bad. It’s a rough time. And when the reaction doesn’t even come…still hasn’t…its absence the antithesis of prior contact…well…then you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into and why your read was so bad to begin with.  

But enough crypitic criticism! Let’s bitch about the guy who cracked my AA and another guy’s KK with J8o, a hand with which he called $175 worth of raises pre-flop! That was at the Amazon Room 2/5 NL table and he can’t even claim to have implied odds if he hit since KK was all-in pre-flop and I only had $135 behind. Funnily enough, when I shoved my remaining chips on the flop (accounting for about 1/4th of the pot size), he insta-called. Not in a “I just flopped a set, whoooo-hoooo!” tone of voice, but in a sheepish, “I flopped two pair and now I’m gonna have to deal with recriminations and I’m going to have to show this shit hand to the rest of the table” one. The kid–quite pimpled and greasy-haired–had only been at the table for 5 hands or so and had already made some curious moves, like two huge position overbets at orphan pots ($50 into $25, for example). For the record, the action pre-flop went thusly:

Kid open-raises to $20 on button.
Speaker smooth calls from SB (we’re playin for stacks!)
BB bumps it to $50
Kid calls
Speaker bumps it to $175, putting BB all-in.
BB calls
Kid calls

Now, drizz suggested I push, instead of raise to $175 and he’s got a point, especially considering what I had left behind. I honestly thought I was isolating the BB with that raise and was surprised when the kid called. On the other hand, I was happy he called. Just got unlucky that he flopped two pair. I mean, you want J8 to call an extra $125 there, doncha? If we’re not being results-oriented, of course.

As far as playing a cash game in the Amazon Room, it’s kind of a zoo. When I was playing, they had too many tables running, so we were often 5- or 6-handed. On the plus side, no waiting. My table was awfully soft. Two rocks, one guy with a magnificent tell, an Asian kid who bought in for $100 at a time and a rotating melange of the usual. Yet I went broke anyway. The AA hand was the final nail, but I’d done plenty of donking earlier. Was, in fact, down to $200 from my initial $500 buy-in (and left most of my ‘roll at the hotel so couldn’t re-load) thanks to some ridonkulous play. You ever have those nights where nothing you do works? Zagging instead of Zigging? That was my night. Each time I took a stab at an orphan pot in position, somebody called on a draw, and the turn card brought it home. Or one of the rocks (who would lay down anything south of two pair) would check-raise with a set. I just bled chips away, playing my usual aggressive game. And when they figured me out, I switched, tightened up, and worked the $200 back up to $340 or so before disaster struck.

Cathartic, this is. And the poker wasn’t even bugging me.

So yeah, tough week. I have been working my fool arse off on a number of projects. And I haven’t done any of the following three things:

1. Played poker
2. Drank an ounce of alcohol
3. Smoked a cigarette

Remember what I said about those nerve endings?

Over/Under wagering begins in comments, but I’m feeling really good this time. Because I promised AJ. I PROMISED him.

I’m past the toughest stage. Five days of cold turkey goodness. My favorite bodily reaction to this wholesale brain chemical alteration is the Tourette’s-like spasms, both muscle and verbal. I’ve chirped involuntarily. I’ve thrown phantom jabs for no reason. People have looked at me strangely, while I only laughed. I’ve slept better the last couple nights than I have in a long-ass time, perhaps I’ve even quieted the warthog a little which more oxygenated blood and freer air-flow. Nah…probably not.

I’ve also held off on the snacking and other replacement items (Jolly Ranchers a perennial favorite) and instead hit the gym at my apartment complex.

I believe it’s safe to say my mid-life crisis is in full swing. At least it’s positive, so far. But I can tell you I’ve had some unusual thoughts lately, mulling some moves I’d previously disregarded. No, no convertibles. I don’t think my hair like that.

I am gonna play some poker this weekend. Not sure when, but I’ll fit it into my heavily leveraged free time.

See y’all at the table.s 

This entry was posted on Friday, July 13th, 2007 at 12:21 pm and is filed under Uncategorized.