In the book

I got a glimpse of what it's like to be a professional poker player tonight at Nautica. My professional play went like this: I folded for the first hour. Folded for the second hour. And for the final two hours of the session, I merged my range and really tightened up.

I had A-Q once, the third of four players to call a $12 preflop raise. Whiffed the flop. I did get 6s during the first half-hour. Raised preflop to $6 UTG. Had an out of body experience and watched helplessly as I c-bet the J-high flop. Babies cried and dogs wailed in despair.

Those were my big hands. Runners-up included pocket 4s (limp-called for $17 total) and A-10. Won two pots with garbage, netting $28. Lost $74 on the night.

And I'm booking that mofo as a win.

Tonight I watched semi-competent players having bad nights needlessly piss away good cash money making crying calls when the villain's hand, for fuck's sake, was practically face up and there was no way on God's green Earth that the villain did not have it.

Why chase? There's nothing to catch in the long game, correct? Thus I view tonight's abysmal run of cards were an outlier, an aberration. I've run mediocre before. I'm certain I will run mediocre again.