No mas
Entered two more 180s tonight, same gruesome results. (Figured I'd foreshadow this and allow you to bail before I pour pints of bad karma all over you. For the rest of you voyeurs who enjoy watching train wrecks, "Cops," and "Ice Dancing With the Stars," here goes.)
Chip up to just over 5,000 in the first one. With the blinds at 100/200/25, I get A-10 on the SB and raise after everyone folds around. The big blind calls. Flop comes Q-J-x. We both check. A king appears on the turn. I bet out he puts me all-in and I insta-call. SB has ... A-10. Not long after I run queens into kings to finish 41st. I suspected something bad when he re-raised me but I pushed just the same and that was that.
Didn't wait long to enter the second one. Floated along for a while and entered the second hour with just under 2,500 chips. Doubled up two hands in a row with pocket 8s and aces against the same dude to climb to over 10K. Told myself I'd play cautiously but not scared. Under the gun, I get pocket 7s with blinds at 100/200/25 and limp. There's a raiser two seats to my left and I call the other 600, ready to give it up on the flop if my 7 doesn't come. Flop comes 10-6-9. I check and the raiser checks behind. The 7 appears on the turn. I bet 1,000, he calls. The other 6 comes on the river, giving me the boat. I bet another 1,200 expecting him to fold. He pops me for another 2K. I ponder this surprising turn of events. The straight is obvious. Does he have pocket 8s? But the little man in my head starts screaming: "He's got pocket 10s!" and I just call. The little freakin' midget is wrong, of course. He's got pocket 9s and I'm down to 5K. A blow, but hardly fatal.
I win some blinds, give up some blinds and then and get K-Q in the big blind. I see the flop for free, which comes 10-Q-Q. I bet out and the big stack to my immediate right calls. Another 10 on the turn and I'm looking good. I bet out again, he puts me all-in and I call. He has Q-9. No king on the river and it's another freakin' split. Not long after, I get A-Q UTG and limp. Yep, I limped. Wimpy, scared play? No comment. There are a couple more limpers, including the blinds. Flop comes Q-7-3. I bet out 2,000, leaving me not much more behind. Big-stacked limper pushes, everybody folds and I call out of desperation, fearing a set. He's slow-playing kings. No help on the turn or river and I'm out in 27th.
This is getting stupid. Don't feel like I'm playing that badly. Not playing timidly, putting the A-Q limp aside. I'm trying to win these fucking things, not just settle for a cash. But even when I collect a decent stack, I have this weird sense of prophetic doom that I manage to fulfill. What is going on here? Is it some kind of blogging curse?
Given this abject condition I find myself in, I know of only one solution: Keep playing and hope the Poker Gods eventually grow tired of kicking the living shit out of me. The tide, for pity's sake, has got to turn eventually.
Chip up to just over 5,000 in the first one. With the blinds at 100/200/25, I get A-10 on the SB and raise after everyone folds around. The big blind calls. Flop comes Q-J-x. We both check. A king appears on the turn. I bet out he puts me all-in and I insta-call. SB has ... A-10. Not long after I run queens into kings to finish 41st. I suspected something bad when he re-raised me but I pushed just the same and that was that.
Didn't wait long to enter the second one. Floated along for a while and entered the second hour with just under 2,500 chips. Doubled up two hands in a row with pocket 8s and aces against the same dude to climb to over 10K. Told myself I'd play cautiously but not scared. Under the gun, I get pocket 7s with blinds at 100/200/25 and limp. There's a raiser two seats to my left and I call the other 600, ready to give it up on the flop if my 7 doesn't come. Flop comes 10-6-9. I check and the raiser checks behind. The 7 appears on the turn. I bet 1,000, he calls. The other 6 comes on the river, giving me the boat. I bet another 1,200 expecting him to fold. He pops me for another 2K. I ponder this surprising turn of events. The straight is obvious. Does he have pocket 8s? But the little man in my head starts screaming: "He's got pocket 10s!" and I just call. The little freakin' midget is wrong, of course. He's got pocket 9s and I'm down to 5K. A blow, but hardly fatal.
I win some blinds, give up some blinds and then and get K-Q in the big blind. I see the flop for free, which comes 10-Q-Q. I bet out and the big stack to my immediate right calls. Another 10 on the turn and I'm looking good. I bet out again, he puts me all-in and I call. He has Q-9. No king on the river and it's another freakin' split. Not long after, I get A-Q UTG and limp. Yep, I limped. Wimpy, scared play? No comment. There are a couple more limpers, including the blinds. Flop comes Q-7-3. I bet out 2,000, leaving me not much more behind. Big-stacked limper pushes, everybody folds and I call out of desperation, fearing a set. He's slow-playing kings. No help on the turn or river and I'm out in 27th.
This is getting stupid. Don't feel like I'm playing that badly. Not playing timidly, putting the A-Q limp aside. I'm trying to win these fucking things, not just settle for a cash. But even when I collect a decent stack, I have this weird sense of prophetic doom that I manage to fulfill. What is going on here? Is it some kind of blogging curse?
Given this abject condition I find myself in, I know of only one solution: Keep playing and hope the Poker Gods eventually grow tired of kicking the living shit out of me. The tide, for pity's sake, has got to turn eventually.
posted by Poker Jones at 11:15 PM
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