Drawn and quartered

Not long after finishing the recent post floating the idea of discipline, I bought into a Tilt $24+2 and, after several table changes, was seated to the left of a player with the screen name "Discipline." He finished fourth. Very strange.

(I, on the other hand, was booted around 250th (1,000-plus runners) while possessing a slightly better than average stack when a 'tard with A-J called my A-A re-raise and all-in bet postflop with no pair and no draw save the mighty runner-runner flush. End of rant.)

Discipline does have many guises. Concepts like not leaving a table when it's good, regardless of whether you're winning or losing. I tried to adhere to that principle last night in a TD game until yet another sexy draw -- 2-3-4-7 in this case -- K'd with three swings reminiscent of John Kruk's at-bat vs. Randy Johnson in the '93 All-Star Game. (Gotta love Google.) I finally bailed after these repeated body blows added up to my worst-ever TD session.

Because it's what I do, I jumped into a .10/.25 NL game that included some Group compatriots. I made two very nice plays to double up against The Canuck and Chan and then donked off the profit with pocket queens against an unknown player's flopped set of jacks. It should have been an easy laydown after his post-flop raise. Yet I greedily hoped for A-J and put him all-in. Typical big-pair donkey dazzlement on my part.

Once again, it's about discipline. It's about not wasting $20 while practically wishing your opponent lacks the the set you strongly suspect he has.

It is about calling a pot-sized bet with second pair postflop because you believe your opponent is floating with big overcards.

Discipline is ignoring the incessant braying of your inner donkey.

Discipline is the courage of your convictions.