Mean Gene
Mean Gene
Pittsburgh's most decorated poker blogger, which I admit is like being the best shortstop in Greenland

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My Articles

Presto, the Arlo, & the Hammer
An Online Code of Conduct
The Ethics of Ratholing
"The Professor, the Banker..."
"Ace on the River"

My Columns

Lose the Shades
If You Can't Say Something Nice
Whither the Kicker
The Lady is a Champ?
Covering the WSOP (or not)
Statistics, Luck, and Poker
Poker and New Orleans
Managing a Bankroll
How To Tell A Bad Beat Story
Telling Lies
The Power of Poker Tracker
Advanced Card-Handling

My Greatest Hits

5 Things To Do Before I Die
Cafeteria Nostalgia
Mean Gene's Dubious Dating Tips
Poker and Business?
There's No Such Thing As Luck?
Isabelle, Je t'adore
No Shirt No Shoes No Service
Well, The Food Was Good
Good Morning, Mr. Matusow!
The Weekend of our Discontent, I
The Weekend of our Discontent, II
Books That Left Their Mark
Ode to a Fish Sandwich
Bill Simmons Ain't the Poker Guy
The Sports Guy Still Ain't the Poker Guy
Again, The Media Tackles Poker
Five Years After 9/11
Hitting Pretty Girls in the Face
Sixth-Graders Suck

Fellow Poker Bloggers

Guinness and Poker
Cards Speak
Tao of Poker
Up for Poker
Boy Genius
Chris Halverson
Poker Grub
The Fat Guy
Todd Commish
Poker Works
Bill Rini
Bad Blood
Love and Casino War
Double As
Lion Tales
Paul Phillips
Daniel Negreanu
Poker Nerd
Poker Nation
Poker in Arrears
Human Head
Sound of a Suckout
Chicks With Chips
TP's Table Talk
Royal Poker
This is Not A Poker Blog
Chick and a Chair
Go Be Rude
Poker Cheapskate
Poker & Other Stuff
Seven Two
Musical Poker
WPBT Online
Isabelle Mercier
Cardschat Blog
Amy Calistri
BJ Nemeth
Annie's Blog

Poker Sites

Cardschat Poker Forum
Barstool Sports
Card Player
Internet Texas Hold-Em
Poker Pages


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    Friday, December 12, 2003

    I am NOT a gambling addict!

    After volleyball and during the beer-drinking and wing-eating that follows my friend Rick accused me of being addicted to gambling. Or, at least, addicted to Hold'Em. Rick is fond of hyperbole, and, anyway, he's a jerk. I'm not a poker addict. I like to play, I enjoy it immensely, but I'm not addicted. I can step away from the tables when I'm down, I don't risk money I can't afford to lose, I play within my means. Old-time poker giants would sometimes belittle a tight player by saying, "He ain't got no gamble in him". That's me, unfortunately. I pick my spots for aggression, I trust the occasional hunch, but it just isn't in my makeup to be a wild and wooly gambler. I'm boring.

    That doesn't mean that I didn't go home last night and log on for a few quick hands. I'm always a bit wired after volleyball and beer and I wanted to play a bit to relax. And to prove to Rick that I'm not an addict. Thirty minutes and then bedtime. OK, maybe forty. An hour, tops.

    Twenty minutes in I was wishing I'd just gone to bed. The game followed what is becoming a depressingly familiar pattern--junk hands for the first 3 or 4 orbits, and then a few speculative hands that don't pan out. After 20 minutes I hadn't won a hand and had my top two pair lose to trips in my only showdown. I was also irritated by the guy sitting to my right, who raised the pot nearly every hand. That made me throw away most of my speculative hands, and I don't like being bossed at the table by some would-be tough guy who thinks a fifty-cent raise makes him the next Stu Unger. I would have delivered a nut-crushing re-raise if I could've gotten a hand better than 8-3, but no such luck.

    Until what turned out to be my final hand of the night. I was down about ten bucks and feeling pretty low, but I decided it was time to push away from the table and prove to Rico and myself that I'm a recreational player, not some degenerate card skank. Plus I was sleepy.

    I was dealt J-10. An interesting hand, one I like to play. Mr. Bigbet of course raised the pot and I called, but then the guy right after me re-raised. Six players put three bets in the pot, so we had some nice action going. The flop came 9-Q-3. Oh, baby. Open-ended straight draw. I had to call three bets to stay in, but with two shots at the nut straight I tossed in my chips.

    The turn was a five. Again the bet was raised, this time by a different player. No one re-raised by the time it got to me. Pay a buck to see the river? Six outs for the nuts, and a very big payday. The pot odds demanded I toss in my dollar, and I did. Last hand, let's see what happens.

    And what happened was one of those events that make playing poker so much fun, so rewarded, so...addictive. The river came up a mighty, benevolent King. I looked at it, and looked at it, and looked at it some more. I don't think I'm ever going to be a successful casino player because I'm sure my face lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. Plus I actually counted the cards out loud, "9...10...jack...queen...king", to ensure I wasn't delusional, and I think that's a tell.

    No raises this time around, until my turn came and I gleefully charged the three other players an additional buck to see my cards. I was hoping for a re-raise but that was unreasonable, and when I turned over my J-10 I'm sure there was howling and cursing a plenty. I raked in a $27 pot, by far the biggest I've won so far, and that one king turned what would have been a $15 loss for the session into a $10 gain.

    I slept the sleep of the triumphator, which means that I crawled into bed and had two cats crowd me into a corner. But a happy sleep nonetheless. get this widget Please visit Pokernews site for more poker news, poker strategy articles or poker rules.

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