Mean Gene

Fishy Thoughts

Today is Friday and like a good Catholic (which, alas, I'm not. Good, that is) I had a fish sandwich for lunch. I work for a large food company, so you'd figure the cafeteria would have pretty good food. It's better than good--it's frickin' fantastic. I just had a superb fish sammich, and what made it extraordinary was that they had this homemade tartar sauce, I can't describe it, it had maybe some cucumber in there, just a hint, and some unusual relish that was too die for. I could've eaten a bowl of it by itself. A company cafeteria with great food, excellent service, beyond reasonable prices...they should spin it off and open cafeterias for other firms. I may need to zip off an email to the CEO.

Jackpot Jay has posted the third installment of his "Into the Abyss" column. I feel his pain, as I'm going through it myself right now. It was interesting to read that Greg Raymer, before he won the WSOP, was in the middle of a $60K freefall. Me, I've lost like $100, but proportionally I've probably lost more.

I think I've figured out why I'm not doing well. I'm terrible. No, let me rephrase that--I'm playing terribly. I can play better--I have in the past--but at the moment I'm not. And I think I've figured out why.

One, after sitting out for 3 months I've forgotten a lot of what I learned, and I was foolish to think that playing poker was just like riding a bike. I need to buckle down, crack the books, and learn me how to play poker again. Thing is, I'm not really interested in that right now. I've had copies of Lee Jones' and Gary Carson's book sitting on my nightstand for a month now, and the Cloutier/McEvoy book as well, but I haven't been motivated to sit there and really read up. I think I've had Ed Miller's "Small-Stakes Hold-Em" book in my hand during a a half-dozen visits to Borders, but each time I've returned it to the shelves. It'd just join my other books, sitting there unused.

I know that, in time, I'll return to the game with serious intent, but for the moment I find myself far more interested in writing about poker than playing it. I'm sure this is in due in part to the fact that I've been losing lately, and that I'm losing because I'm playing lousy, but as I play less I find myself writing more and not missing the difference. Now, if and when I start playing better I may play more, but hopefully I can keep hitting the keys with the same regularity. We shall see.

It also doesn't help that my mighty bankroll sits in the high two-figures at the moment, and I'm playing with scared money. You know, you lose a $3 pot and you realize that represents 4.5% of your bankroll. And you go "UUUUNNNNNGGGGGHHH!". This does not lead to bold, decisive play. This leads to tight-weak nut shrinkage.

But as my poker bankroll slips down into the "if I cash out now I can buy that oil change I've had my eye on" range, my overall net gain from this obsessive little hobby rises ever upward. My third article just posted, and I have another one in mind, so even if I lose my little all at the tables in the next few weeks I can console myself with the knowledge that I'm still way up during this little detour in my journey to, uh, good pokerplayerdom.

Yes, I'm rambling. Yes, I'm hepped up on DayQuil. I'm still sick. I sneeze and I lose 2 pounds. It's gross.

To show what a moron I am, only in the last few days did I start using Bloglines. My God, the time I save going back and forth from blog to blog looking for updates...I'm an idiot. So much time, wasted...gone forever.

It turns out that Hunter S. Thompson shot himself in the middle of a phone conversation with his wife. They were on the phone, Thompson asked her to come home to help him finish his ESPN column, he asked her to hold on a second, and he shot himself. While his son, daughter-in-law, and grandchild were in the house. It's bizarre, to say the least. His widow, Anita, has said that he'd been talking of suicide the last few months. Why he decided to do it in the middle of a conversation is, perhaps, forever beyond our understanding.

<< Home