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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    Saturday, October 22, 2005

    Marsha Waggoner Made An Enemy Tonight

    Marsha, of course, knocked Isabelle Mercier out of the WPT Ladies Night event that was shown tonight. But let's go back in time a bit, shall we?

    My niece and nephew are staying over this weekend, and as we headed out to see the Wallace and Gromit movie (quicky review--outstanding, hilarious, must-see) Hailey got the mail. In the mail was a letter I'd been expecting, with a South Carolina return address and OTIS listed as the sender. "Who's Otis?" Hailey asks.

    "Is that like Milo and Otis?" Bryce says.

    "Uh, no, not Milo and Otis," I say. "More like Pauly and Otis."

    "Is that a better story than Milo and Otis?" Bryce asks.

    "Uh...a different kind of story," I say.

    "What's it about?"

    "'ll tell you later. Like when you're thirty."

    Inside the envelope was an important historical document--an Isabelle Mercier biography sheet from PokerStars AUTOGRAPHED by the lady herself. "I know where this is going," I said as I held it in trembling hands. I have my business school diploma framed and hanging in my office--say buh-bye!

    But the possibility that this piece of paper may be hanging in the Smithsonian was increased exponentially by the fact that it was also signed by Otis and Pauly. Odd, I would've thought Pauly of all people would know how to spell the F-word...I guess he was either drunk or swooning. Or both.

    So we come home from the movie, we eat dinner, Bryce and I are downstairs watching Penn State vaporize Illinois, and once the game got out of hand (with 5:38 left in the first quarter) I flipped on the Travel Channel to catch the beginning of the WPT broadcast. Hailey joined us after she heard me and Bryce loudly contesting a game of War (and I kicked his ASS!) and I showed them both the autographed picture and pointed to the TV screen. "She's the person who autographed this."

    They were impressed. "Is she famous?" Bryce asked. I said not famous enough. They showed the ladies lined up before they took their seats and Hailey said of Isabelle, "Wow, she must do a lot of sit-ups."

    "Uh-huh," I mumbled. Anyone who saw the show, well, they know what Hailey was talking about.

    "I can do a thousand sit-ups," Bryce boasted, and we made a prop bet on the spot--I bet he couldn't do ten. A bowl of ice cream was in the balance, and Bryce blasted out ten crunches like he was friggin' Terrell Owens. I think I got suckered, but I paid up.

    The kids wanted to know how to play poker, and I think I explained in fifteen seconds not only the rules but all the vagaries and nuances of the game. They showed Isabelle's little interview segment and Hailey wasn't quite taken with how Isabelle wore her hair up in the earlier action. Odd, Hailey's fashion sense is usually impeccable, but in this case I had to emphatically disagree with her, to the point where she was nearly in tears. Or maybe I was nearly in tears. There was crying, I know that.

    And then Isabelle went all-in with queens, Marsha Waggoner called with pocket sevens, and flopped a seven to put Isabelle in bad, bad shape. No tears from me or Hailey this time, though my lower lip definitely trembled. There was still over an hour to go, and no more Isabelle? And to think, there are still people believe in justice. Of course, I knew that Isabelle went out in fifth place, but that didn't cushion the blow.

    Although they have had Isabelle on giving commentary as the show has gone on. Steve Lipscomb is no fool. I thank the gods for his probity and wisdom.

    It's about time to put the kids to bed, but a few quick comments about the show. Like the new glasses-free Mike Sexton. Like Courtney Friel (I'm speaking strictly about her hosting skills and not about her obvious aesthetic appeal), though she's a bit too polished at times. She asks a question and then in mid-answer turns to face the camera and gives us that 50,000 megawatt smile. A worthy replacement for Shana.

    I see Michael Mizrachi wearing his hat that says, "The Grinder" or "The Grinder is a Machine" and I just want to start laughing. It's a great nickname, but I keep imagining a situation where he's away from the poker table and engaged in a conversation a group of people and someone who doesn't know him well asks, "So, what to you do for a living?"

    And one of Mizrachi's friend's says, "He grinds", as if that's the stupidest question in the world. I know I'm not quite conveying the humor of what's appearing in my mind. What does a Grinder do, he grinds...never mind.

    OK, kids gotta go to bed. As soon as they clean up the poker chips they dumped and mixed all over the floor. That'll take about an hour. I finally got Bryce to understand that just because the chip is stamped $500 doesn't mean it's worth five hundred dollars. I think he was thinking about pricing Porsche Boxsters. get this widget Please visit Pokernews site for more poker news, poker strategy articles or poker rules.

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