Blind Donkey Finds a Carrot

Well last night I played in the Skillz razz game. For those of y0u who are somewhat a follower of this series, I have suggested that Chip change the name to the Pirate Lawyer Open. He obviously runs goot there. Of course Lightning36 is there to make a case for anything that PL leaves unclaimed. Which leads me to last nights little miracle. I signed up for the razz game and, lo and behold, I too it down. I am not by any means extolling my skill in the Skillz series or any other tourney, game or facsimile thereof. However, last week I was lucky enough to finish third to the esteemed gentlemen that I have aforementioned, and this week in their absence I also was able to finish ahead of the rest of the very worthy field of runners. Winning is nice. Carrots taste good. Thanks for hosting, Chip. And if PL and Lightning want to take off a few more weeks. . .nah, I wont even say that in jest.

Thanks for stoppin by, ya'll come back now, ya hear!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

There are presents to be exchanged, rib roast to be eaten, and naps to be taken. The Solstice has occurred and the Sun returns. The tree is in the corner and the wood spirits are warmed. Santa has been here and joy is being spread in the Mitchum household. From our house to yours, Merry Christmas!!!

Pokerslut

Last night I was a poker slut, as I am apt to be from time to time, and tonight you will find me donking with friends. . . and friends don't let friends donk alone. So join us, if your stuck in the snow, with no where to go. And don't use the excuse that the bankroll is low, for it's only $3.50 + .50, don't you know. There'll be lots of good friends, and lots of good cheer, so pull up a seat and grab you a beer.

Now I have been reading lots of blogs about people being stuck in lots of places due to extreme cold, snow, and general bad weather. I feel your pain. I can relate. It was so cold at my house on Friday, I had to turn the air conditioning up a couple a degrees. 78 degrees in the middle of December. Damn, that's tough weather, but somebody has to put up with it. I am gonna be a trooper, put out the stiff upper lip, and face this thing with stoic resolve, with my friends at the TFI and TFII.

Day Two

Day two started with breakfast at the IP, not great, not bad. . .it is kind of hard to screw up bacon, eggs and toast. I made my way back to my room, and was pleasantly pleased to be introduced to Maudie by Kat as they went out to explore the various sites that they had planned. At 2 several of us met at the IP and headed of to this place. That's Pirate Lawyer in the foreground. The little round munchkin in the background would be some one to avoid. The pinball machines and the videos were definitely a reminder of my misspent youth. But, eventually it was time to leave and make our way toward the events of our misspent present. . .mixed games at the MGM. Before the festivities began, I had a nice dinner with Zeem and CaApril. Once the mixed games started, The Doc, Alan, and Fallstaff where in rare form. Every street was capped just for grins and giggles for at least the first three orbits. I don't think I got involved in a hand for 30 minutes. I just sat back and watched. My patience was rewarded, as by the time I left the the table I was up almost two fifty to the positive. I also got to meet Linda, the godmother of bloggers, and Drizz, in addition to Fallstaff and some other fine players and bloggers.

What A Blast: day 1

A great time was had by this blogger in V.mecca. I met some fun people, nice people. I figure the only friends I did not make were the ones I did not have the opportunity to meet or to talk to more than just a cursory hello. I have a special place in my heart from this weekend for Kat. She was my roomie and my intro to this my first blogger event. We met at the airport and shared a cab to the IP. After checking in, we made our way down to the Geisha bar where I was delighted to meet the likes of OhCaptain and OhCountess, who were the nicest people you would ever want to meet anywhere at anytime,; Buddy Dank and Joanada were just as much fun in person as they are on the radio. I got to speak with Pauly, who was holding court with Derek, Rooster, and Iggy, which was definitely a treat for me.

I then made my way over to the poker room for poker schizophrenia, or as some people call it, 8 game. It's all the HORSE games, plus baduggi, 2-7 triple draw, and O high. Even the dealers were confused. But I met some more nice folk, the least of which was not the good Dr. Chako, Zeem, PokerPrincess, CK, and Alan. I knew better than to sit down, but I could not resist the opportunity to meet over our shared hobby. Now, it was 3 in the morning east coast, and I was tired in addition to my normal stupidity at mixed games, but mission was accomplished, and a good time ensued. The high light hand: Zeem hit quad 7's in Razz--like that shit is only supposed to happen on line. The highlight event: just meeting everyone. After some fun and my innitial donation was spent, I made my way to bed. (about 5:30 eastern). . .more later.

Sometomes I feel like a 10 watt bulb in a 60 watt world....Now, my friend BamBam has has shed a little "light" on my situation, and it is all becoming a little bit clearer. I am tired and am just getting back into the swing of things, so I am just putting out a few words for the moment to invite any and all who happen to stumble through this blogomorphic post to the Tuckfard I and/or Tuckfard II, it is the funnest home game on the net. Please stop by and join us. If you cant make it this week, stop by any time. You cannot have more fun for less money, or even more money for more fun, or no fun for no money, or all money for all fun.. .this light speed thing is really making me dizzy right now. . .I'm gonna stop typing and hit post, But I sure hope to see you at:

Tuckfards I and Tuckfards II, starting at 7pm and 8pm eastern tonight (Monday). The first game id NLHE, the 2d is O8. The PW to each is my middle name: donkey. If you tell them I sent you, it will only cost you $3.50 to enter, Other than that you will have to pay the full price, which includes laughter and fun. Being a smart ass is not required, but it does get you points. See you there!

On Mercy, Justice and Luck

The range of Luck says anyone can win at anytime. This is the case most anytime I win. Justice, a concept which has little to do with poker, nonetheless makes me believe if I get my cards in good more times that not, I will win more times that not- Bwaaahhhaaahhhaa to that BS. I need to develop way more game to even begin to think about that concept.

Mercy, though, that is a concept that I seem to be running on of late. I absolutely love playing cards with the Tuckfards on Monday nights. If I had to give up all other play, I could begrudgingly do so, as long as I could play with the Tuckfardian knights of the land up north. Recently, the TFII was changed from a HORSE format, to an O8 format. Personally, I miss the HORSE, and hate the O8. Just don't care for O8, personal preference. On that note, I would probably play Old Maid if that were the Tuckfardian choice for a tournament format. It is always that much fun to hang out with BamBam, Carson, Suzy-Q, TGL, Memphis Mojo, Cemfredmd, DonK, RedneckTF, Baywolfe, and anyone else I am missing which I beg your pardon for not mentioning. This is a fun group. No two ways about it.

Now back to the mercy concept. Mercy- basically giving some one grace when they don't deserve it. Certainly, like justice, a concept that should be foreign to the poker table. But it is the only thing I can think of that allowed me to pull out a win in the TFII, O8 tourney last night knowing that I hate the game and really don't feel comfortable playing it.

Either that, or the poker gods do what they do only to torture me later.:

Devil on my left shoulder: You can win this anytime, you did it once, you can do it again. It is your natural born right to be good at something.
Angel on my right shoulder: Stay humble don't set yourself up for disappointment tilt.

D: Don't listen to that dipshit. Don't worry that you don't know shit about O8, or most other online poker tourneys for that matter. . .you are a natural, push, push, push.
A: Oh this is not gonna be pretty.. . .
(bet, raise, pot, call, get all chips in with a turned nut straight, and a nut low draw, only to see it pair the 3 on the board giving a boat to the opponent and no low split)
D: Bwahahaha, Gigli is not good enough for you, fool, you knew you hated this game before you started listening to me, bwahahaha.

Bounty Obtained

I have my bounty for the Saturday tourney, and I have lots of little knick-knack gifts for the friends I have made over the past year and even a few in anticipation of those I will meet when I get there. It is in the spirit of the event. The only thing left to do is get on the plane and go. So. . .Vmecca here I come. Every card player has to make the pilgrimage once in his life, and this is mine. This is really kind of wild on one end, I remember a time before the internet, a time before computers, a time before meeting all of these people would have been possible. I was speaking to another on line friend tonight. We both came to the conclusion that we are pretty lucky people, we bloggers. To my current friends, and my future friends, salude. Win lose or draw, you have again made me the luckiest man I know.

Next Week

At this time next week, I like many other people a/k/a poker bloggers, will be in Vegas. I look forward to putting faces to friends that I either only know from reading their blogs or seeing them accross the table, or having talked to them on line. There is quite the variety of personalities out there. Me, I am basically along for the ride, and am enjoying every moment of it.

While I dont play or write particularly well, I do have fun. Every once in a while I string together enough cards to put together a decent enough run to keep my bankroll funded. Extreemly low stakes with the occassional step up into the next level, with varying degrees of success. As for my writing ability, well. . .I occassionally can say something humorous enough to bring a chuckle, or at least a smile. Even more rarely I can convey an idea that might actually have some meaning beyond the mundane sentence and word structure that occupies this space. I really try to stay away from blogging about any particular poker stratagy or hand as I feel like people should probably not talk about things they aren't qualified to. To be quite honest the on line game still leaves me cluless a lot of times, and my writing skills, well. . .no one is ever gonna pay me to put word to paper.

That being said, by simply attempting to participate in both of these activities over the last year I have received way more than I have given. I have had the pleasure to meet some nice people, interesting people, arrogant people, sweet people, cynical people, genuine people, assholes, reprobates, soldiers and saints over the last year of playing poker and trying to maintain this blog. Each one of them have their own special charm. And I look forward to meeting all and any of them of them next week.

Yoga Anyone?

No comment. She just reminds me of a ballet dancer I once dated. On the first date she told me she could put her ankles behind her ears.. . .and very shortly thereafter she showed me. We did not date long. I promise she had more snakes in her head than Spielberg used in the first Indiana Jones movie. Then again, I don't remeber being very intereted in her head that night...at least not snakes that were aleady in it already in it.

Gratitude

Yesterday, in the US, we celebrated Thanksgiving. Today (friday) we celebrate sloth and lethargy. The American myth goes back to 1621, but the roots could probably be traced back to the earliest farming communities. A good harvest brought in was always good cause for thanks and celebration. There was always some god to show gratitude to and another excuse to get naked and run through the woods. Those festivals were generally celebrated somewhere shortly after the vernal equinox, after the harvest had been brought in. Lincoln declared the last Thursday in November to be a national day of thanksgiving in the US, and it became an official national holiday in 1941. Kind of ironic in that this was the very eve of Pearl Harbor.

When I was a small child I remember all of my uncles and aunts, and my mother's uncles and aunts, and my cousins being around at so many different holidays, I can't attribute a specific memory to Thanksgiving.. . .but it was a good time in our family. As I have gotten older, I like to reflect on some of the things that I have to be grateful for.

Always number one on the list is my family. I couldn't have hand picked better. I certainly miss those who are no longer here, but I am grateful that they were in my life. The thing about getting older, is that thee are more and more that leave each year. I seem to have been given a gift to be able to hold them in my heart with an ounce of sorrow for the loss, and an ounce of joy for the times shared. I miss my brother, my father, my uncles Tommy, Jerry, and Willie. My aunts Annie and Catherine. I am sad that they are not here, but so happy for the loving part that they played in my life.

The part of family that I had a hand in choosing (my lovely bride Cameron) is just as special. She is the pot to my top. I love her dearly and am very happy with the life we share. . .and lucky me, she loves me too. I may not be the best at anything I do, but I maintain that I am the luckiest man I know. Happy Thanksgiving all!!

I have been reading OhCaptain's posts about a run of bad luck. I think it is catching, for during the same time have had pocket K's 4 times they have held up exactly 0 times. I did witness cowboys hold up once. Unfortunately, it was when I ran my AA into KK, of course K on the river.. . .so, It kinda made me want to sing a song. . .

Mamas dont let your babies grow up to play cowboys . . make 'em play dueces and presto and such, or Ace with crappy kicker, isn't too much (with appologies to Willie Nelson).

It was funnier to be there. . .but not in a fun kind of way.

Too late for Holloween. . .

. . .Too early for April Fools Day. I watched a horror show on Saturday. It was called Florida Gators vs. South Carolina Gamecocks. Back when I was in school a/k/a Sparky Woods and Brad Scott regimes, this was a recurring matinee. And you could count on end of the year shellackings from Florida and Tennessee and whatever other SEC west fill in the blank team we were playing (Auburn, LSU, Alabama). It didn't matter, 40 and 50 point losses were common place and the mantra of "wait til next year" was nonexistent in the ever hopeful vocabulary most Gamecock fans. We were just hopeful of putting a team out there that could compete.
However, with the arrival of the most recent saviors, Lou Holtz and Steve Spurrier, we have been delivered from the ridiculous back to the mediocre. Hey, there's over 100 years of history here, trust me, mediocrity is as good as it gets. All the way back to the late 1930's when Rex Enright came to town, there have been savior coaches that have either descended from the hallowed grounds of the elite (Notre Dame, LSU), or been lured from other half baked programs they had resurrected (I will not insult those programs by naming names--this is my cynical rant, not theirs) to this one in hopes of doing what has never been done. . .win in Columbia South Carolina. As yet, the miracle remains unperformed.
Reading this, you might think that I am not a fan of the feathered fighters, and you would be wrong. Nothing would make me happier than to see my Gamecocks consistently at the top of the college food chain in some type of sport. However, I have harbored this hope for the better part of my 48 years on this earth, and I shall continue to harbor such hope for many more years. The Gamecocks have extended this fantastic Odyssey to it's faithful for even longer. It is a birthright, a burden of love that is generally reserved for a parent to a ne'er to do well child. For I am a son of the South-land of the lost cause. How dreadfully symbolic, or would a better word be bucolic??

Might this be a bit of an oxymoron? I mean, damn, wouldn't some one need a drink to touch some of those lips?? Who thought this poster was a good way to promote prohibition?? I always thought the gods created liquor to help ugly people (like me) get a little lovin' every now and again.

good week at the table, but TF King for a day

I have had a nice week of play starting with the pokersluts on Sunday a PLO (more affectionately known to me as the lemming race) that I won, woohoo. I next finished in the cash at the Mookie and the Dookie on Wednesday, and I finished 2d to NumbBono at the Donkament. Numb and I played in a $5 HORSE tourney after that and we both final tabled again. He finished 2d, me 3d. The poker gods have been kind to me this week. We wont mention the donk moves I made at the Tuckfard I & II when I finished first& second Gigli, and I go home on the bubble feeling rather sheepish and dumb--rightfully earned, lol. Win, lose or draw, you gotta love the Tuckfards. My biggest regret there is I went out too early to enjoy the conversation.

I Booked Vegas plane tickets today. I think this is gonna be fun. I look forward to meeting some folks, as the only blogger I have met in person is BigPirate. We went to school together long before either of us knew the other had a love of poker, and blogging was not even on the horizon.

Either way I find myself a little bit excited about the trip to Vmecca. I find myself in the lotus position facing the west, six times a day making the sign of the cross with spades, diamonds, hearts and clubs being at each directional point while tantrically reciting. . . .o money card gods. . . while burning a deck of cards in sacrifice to the poker gods.

Is there any other mythological or religious symbol or ritual that I can bring into the mix??? Hmmm, the wife says a Bacchic ritual is out of the question. I don't drink, but I heard the orgy part could be fun. You gotta love a god who wants you to have fun while following his rituals.

TuckFard Day!!!

While the rest of the industrial world hates Mondays ( and not without some modicum of reason), I have found a way to overcome that prejudice. I am not saying that playing in the tuckfards will make Monday the favorite day of the week for everybody, however, it would do a lot to improve the negative press ratings in most households. I am an honorary Tuckfard, and I approve this message.

I did have some luck this weekend playing in a lemming race (some call it PLO). No, not Dr. Pauly's, I was disposed of there before the final table was formed. I signed up for the Pokerslut tourney, and the format was none other that poker on crack. So, fully equipped with my new set of thumbscrews and hairshirt, I partook in poker's answer to self mutilation. Almost two hours later I came out with a win. Only the poker gods know how that happened.

You are The Hierophant

Divine Wisdom. Manifestation. Explanation. Teaching.

All things relating to education, patience, help from superiors.The Hierophant is often considered to be a Guardian Angel.

The Hierophant's purpose is to bring the spiritual down to Earth. Where the High Priestess between her two pillars deals with realms beyond this Earth, the Hierophant (or High Priest) deals with worldly problems. He is well suited to do this because he strives to create harmony and peace in the midst of a crisis. The Hierophant's only problem is that he can be stubborn and hidebound. At his best, he is wise and soothing, at his worst, he is an unbending traditionalist.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Do not let it be said that I can not follow others' lead. For what that is worth.

Saturday afternoon on Pokerstars has become a recent favorite for me. I get there about once or twice a month. PLO has come to reminds me of the plight of the lemming. Others have compared it to cards on crack or like a driven rail spikes to the brain. All entertaining metaphors that are rightfully earned. If you've played, you know. I have ordered a hair shirt and a set of thumb screws to enhance my masochistic experience. In all seriousness, it really is fun, and Pauly is always a gracious host. Stop by, enjoy an afternoon with the Doc.

Well it is official. I have signed up for the Nanowrimo. Something, never in my wildest dreams, I never expected, aspired or intended to do. But, it looks interesting. No where in the rules does it say this has to be a legible, readable, or even stomachable piece of literature. I give literature a very liberal definition here. Punctuation, spelling, plot lines (what the F... is a plot line anyway) are beyond my comprehension, ability or intent. Not that these are bad things, mind you. They are merely literary devices that are better left for those properly adept and or trained to use them.

Now, I promise to write whatever gibberish that finds itself spewing from my fingertips via my keyboard until I can no longer spew. That may be 5 words, 50 words, 5,000 words, but I gotta be honest, if 50,000 words, or even anything close, come from me in thirty days, I'm gonna be shocked. And should you get the least bit curious enough to attempt to read something I type, do not think that just because I use sentences and paragraphs that one paragraph will necessarily have anything to do with the paragraph either proceeding or following. However, I do hope to be of some encouragement to my friend, the BigPirate.

A New Generation of Anguish Approaches

I spoke with my brother today. He is retired from the Army after 25 years of service. About half of that time was spent in Germany. Lucky man, smart man too. He now works for the US Army as a civil servant in Germany. He has two daughters (Asliegh and Rachael) and one son (Conner).

It seems that Conner is quite the young athlete, taking after his father and uncles as a fairly co-ordinated competitor. He does not yet know the limitations of coming from a stock of midget warriors who rarely reach the towering height of 5'6".At the age of 12, it does not matter yet, and he will not be daunted. He plays line backer and is the 2nd string QB on his local team. My brother sent a photo of him behind center. . .It looked like he was about half the size of the center, which created its own set of comedic impressions, but still quite an accomplishment. Conner has been starting the whole year at LB, but has recently had a start at QB. While he is no threat to become an all star (at QB), he has still been able to move the team with some consistency.

All of this is good stuff, and we here are quite proud of him. The anguish comes in where Conner has decided that he, like his father and uncles before him, shall carry on the family tradition of self induced concussions, i.e. being a Gamecock fan. Like the road less traveled, this choice is the one that is likely to build the most character, develop the most humility, and produce the shortest of chewed off fingernails. He will learn the art of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory as if it were second hand. He will come to know and cherish the words "wait til next year" as if it were a religious tantra. For it is easy to be a fan of the Crimson Tide, or the Bulldogs, or the Tarheels, or any of another dozen or so tradition rich storied programs; whereas, the fan of the Gamecocks is continually baptized in the hot fire of humiliating defeats, moral victory (any defeat that is not humiliating) and eternal hope. Good luck young Gamecock fan, and may the farce be with you.

Oleadnder Tea

for our anniversary I directed my wife to visit this site. Now she meets me with a soothing cup of oleander tea and my favorite slippers every night when I come home.

a day late and $6.60 short

What a great time the Numbblowme was. For the first 30 minutes, I don't think I could tell you who was at my table, I was so busy shoving without even looking at my cards. Actually a couple of times I saw my cards, but it didn't matter. I did eventually end the first hour with 100,000 chips, but never seriously improved that stack. With 2A.M. approaching I shoved AJ into AA, and I failed to suck out. What's up with that?

I was reading Bam Bam's write up and he said we were on the same table for a while, but I never saw him until after he was out. I had my donk blinders on. Yesterday was a crazy one at work, my anniversary, and my HS reunion (man, I went to school with some old phuckers), so this is the first chance I have had to report that I had *66 rebuys. I can't tell you how many 53, 94, 52 os's dis not hit for me. I was robbed. I did work my way over 30k in chips twice only to fall back down to zero.

I also donked off about 3 buy is at a blogger cash game, low stakes, big fun though.
All in all it was an A- night. An earlier start, or a turbo structure would be the only thing that could make it better. Many thanks to NumbBono and the crew at Buddy Dank Radio. Good job mi amigos.

Gamecocks. . . .who????

As I type, my illustrious Gamecocks are 5-3. Which puts them at 500 over the entire life of the program. Well, actually if you go back to the first game which was long before it was actually called football, we would still be 1 game under .500.

Let's see that was almost a thousand years ago. We had a quarteback named Harold and we were playing these kids from accross the channel. Their quarterback was some young tough named William. As South Carolina had not been founded yet, much less a University of chicken fighters dedicated to the prospect of mediocrity in field generalship, we went by the name of the Saxons. William and his crew were known as the Normans- and they were french. How ghey is that? The big bad Saxons lose to a bunch frenchie Norman people.

We were fresh off of a victory over some Vikings, where of course, we had been underdogs. So feeling full of ourselves we took to the field against these Normans. Who the devil is this Norman guy anyway and why would an entire team name themselves after him??? I think they were at sea too long crossing the english channel and Norman was the guy who spent the most time in the barrel. Or Maybe William was Norman's bitch. Either way, they beat the crap out of us, killed our quarteback and set us back almost 900 years before we could put a team together again. Now look what kind of team we got.

However, they did set a precedent. Everytime we put together a victory, or even a string of victories, where we beat some one we weren't supposed beat, you can bet your bottom dollar we will get a swelled head and lose to some french fry fag team who will beat us senseless and kill our quarteback.

Discretionary Spending

My lovely bride and I went to Asheville this past weekend to visit the Biltmore House/mansion/castle. Take your choice, but. . WOW!!! What a piece of impressive architecture. It kind of reminded me of Neuschwanstien. I saw Neuschwanstien Castle in Germany back in the early 90's. . .more impressive architecture, but that was built by a King. Vanderbilt was not a king in the traditional sense, though his grandfather was certainly a king of railroads and shipping. Either way, it took quite a bit of discretionary moolah to be able to fund the day to day upkeep, much less the construction costs, the landscaping costs, the shipping fees, the labor. . . .Ah, to have that bankroll for a month. . .a week. . .even a day!! Whew, more than I am worth, or foresee myself being worth (unless the inflation that is headed our way brings minimum wage close to a million dollars a year, ha ha).

While up there, I learned of Harah's in Cherokee. I looked them up on line, but did not see much about their poker room, if they have one. Does anybody know??? It might be worth another, better planned trip. The only casinos here in South Carolina (that I know of) are on the boats that dock at Little River. I have been there once so far, and threatened to go again, but the Cherokee thing might be worth a longer vacation type of thing. There are lots of nice little things to see in the mountains that would interest my bride, as she loves the mountains, but is not so much for the casinos.

Pricey Pimpage

NumbBlowMe Invitational
Tournament # 6382019510/23/2008
8:30 pm CSTNLHE - 0.10 + 1.00
Unlimited dime rebuys until first break
Dime add-on of 1500 chips at first break
password = bdankradio


Potentially gives new meaning to the phrase, "Brother can you spare a dime?" or in some cases "Can I borrow $5?" Please do not try these jests at home, as you may find that a sense of humor is not something that will be tollerated in some quarters. As will be attested by one jokeless bastard's response. They don't break appendages, but they will handicap keyboards.

Horseshoe up my. . . (or Trifecta II)

As I understand it, the term Trifecta originated in the horse racing world for the person who was able to "predict" the 1st, 2d and 3d place finishers. In modern slang it can indicate a favorable multiple phenomenon. I believe that it is a term that lends itself to donkey racing, or online tournament poker as it is more commonly known. That being said, I do believe this donkey found a horseshoe over this past weekend:

Donkament 2d
Tuckfard I 3d
Tuckfard II 1st

WooHoo!! to quote that great American philosopher Homer Simpson. A repeat performance from the bottom of the poker world (I had a similar run in June), but in the top of the land of fun. I am now the self proclaimed: Donkey of the week!!!

Ironically, in the TFI, Carson finished 1st, I was 3rd, we traded spots in the TFII. For my part, it was the luck of not zigging when I shoulda zagged, insteaded of any particular skill. I started out lucky when my pocket q's found a third on the river of an AKx flop- actually I was lucky twice in that no one raised me out of the pot before the river. I also took a hit when my Kx soooted, found a flush where I lost to the nut flush in the same sooot. Shortly thereafter, I was almost out of chips in TFI, suckin wind bad, when I went AI w/ 2 high clubs in the sb and luckily hit. Still in last place I went AI w/ Q 10 in my next BB. This is when I suspected I may have been carrying a little extra lead in my butt as I sucked out again. By this time the TFII had started, and unlike many of my on line brethren, who seem to have the talent to play 2 or 3 or 4 if not billions of games at the same time, I have quite the difficult time keeping up with playing one tourney--particularly a TF tourney where the chat box is always full of good humor, friendly banter, and witty quips.

As for the Tuckfard II, I can't say what happened. Generally, whenever I think for the slightest moment that I have horse figured out, I follow that thought up with big losses and early outs in sngs and small stake tables. A humbling game. . .with the potential to cause pain when I find myself staying in hands I should have folded one, two, or three streets earlier. Anyhow, the cards gods were smiling on me the past few days. Fun tourneys, good friends, and a good time, what more can one ask for??

Hey--It's Tuckfard Night.

Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.

This one I can apply to my own life. It is artificial inteligance (supposedly) that deals the cards and allows us to play games and tournaments where we get to spend time with our friends on line. It is my natural stupidity that makes me think my set of 8's is a good push when there are 3 spades on the board. You know this fits with Carson's definition of a Tuckfard, too. Where else can you have more fun for $3.50??? Not saying you can't, but, please clue me in if you find it.

Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.

You know there are some things in life that just don't have to be said. . . .some rules that don't have to be written. Some one emailed me a whole list of such things and this was at the top. I guess there are times that a good night sleep can be a shitty experience!!

Now, I can say, because I followed this rule tonight, I was able to finish second in the Donkament to bdiddie. There are actually three things that I did which I can attest positively affected my play tonight:

1) I took no laxatives. and
2) I took no sleeping pills, and last but not least,
3) I listened to BuddyDank Radio

a Tuckfardian good time

I played in my two favorite tournaments in the whole wide world on Monday evening. The Tuck Fard I and the Tuck Fard II. After 8pm though, I could barely stay connected. However, lady luck was on my side. I won the TF!, only being connected 1/2 the time I was playing. That might be the key--I didn't get the chance to donk my chips away during my disconnect time. I was the chip leader after the first hour and with 8 runners left. (I was in TFII at same time with a set of 10's) when my connection fritz started. By the time I got back there were 3 runners left in TF I: BamBam, Mojo and yours truly. I was in third, but had a competitive stack, I lost connection again and reappeared dangerously low with the antes moving up. I caught a lucky run and WTH, I won!! Do miracles never cease? I never caught any traction at the TFII, but I guess I can't complain about bad luck for another day or two now. Anyhow, win lose or draw, the TuckFards are the best. Nice company to keep. I'll keep showin up as long as they will have me.

Values, Politics, and the Mother Lode

The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you've got it made. Life is a whim of several billion cells to be you for a while. -Groucho Marx.

Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others. - Groucho Marx

The national myth is that we Americans pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps, work hard and become successful. for the last 20 years the mythos has been that the Government is only here to get in the way. "Handouts" that help working class people are taboo, and it seems that this work ethic mythos is only for working class stiffs. If, on the other hand, you are a corporation and having difficulties through your own mismanagement, internal strife, or malfeasance, well then the the US government is there to bail you out, pay off your deadbeat CEO a hefty sum and bring in new execs at the tax payers' teat. I have had my doubt about where we were or are headed, but I believe it has been confirmed. We are officially a corporate-communist economic state. Socialism for the rich, that's us.(See Freddie and Fannie). So much for the Reagan myth. There is a lot in that statement. Now, for me to actually know what I am talking about in making this comment, or to even give a fuck, I'd have to regain the use of a few of the brain cells that I killed during the 70's and 80's. Then again, if I realized that this is the insane shit I had to look forward to, I might have just checked in for the full frontal lobotomy.

I am so fucking confused, I do not even know where to start. First of we elect the "conservatives" because they say they won't (1)tax and (2)spend like the liberals. And I know this is true, why??? Because they keep telling us it's true ad nauseum!!! The low tax thing still seems to a conservative value. Who wants to pay high taxes?? They don't tax high incomes or capital gains, or corporations, like the liberals before them. Lower and middle class incomes not so much --at least not mine. This evidently for "conservatives" is ok. To tell you the truth, it doesn't bother me either way. It's not like my opinion really matters anyway.

What does bother me is that they seem to have missed the spend part though, which makes the first part useless. Theses "conservatives" are big time into spending, and this baffles me senseless. I thought conservatives were big on living with in their means, being frugal. or at least fiscally responsible. It is bad to spend it like it is going out of style while cutting the amount of money that is coming in. How the fuck is driving the debt up so high that the next administration or generation has to pay for it a good conservative value? Of course it has been the recipe for the last the "conservative" adinistrations. . . silly fuckin me for thinking this is not a good concept.

If I had it to do over again, I'd run my life and business this new "conservative" way, not the frugal conservative way. I wouldn't have to bring in more income, all I have to do is borrow a bunch of money from the banks and let them sell the debt to the Chinese, have some kids and leave the business to them to pay off the debt. Better yet, I should become a CEO, steal a bunch of money from people who don't know anybetter, donate a goodly portion of the money to a good conservative politician, give myself an outrageous salary, then let the government bail me out when I go broke. Now that would be the mother lode.


Nah, I'll stick with my way. Pay as I go, and If I don't have it, I don't spend it.

Schtupp me now, or schtupp me later

When I was a kid, my favorite two baseball teams were the Atlanta Braves and the Boston Redsox. From 1970 to 1978 were my formative years in becoming a sports fan. The Braves plain sucked, and the Redsox were further perfecting the ultimate in ways to visit heartbreak upon their loyal fans. I won't go into how many times the Braves finished in last place vs. how many times they were grateful that San Diego was in the same division. Nor will I recreate the '75 Redsox loss to the Reds or the 78 collapse.

No, what I have here is a philosophical question from two divergent backgrounds in futility:

The Braves, for the most part, were very honorable in their incompetence. They had the common decency to put their fans on notice very early in the year that they were not going be competing for division titles, playoff spots or World Series championships. It allowed a fan to get over the disappointment early in the year. It also allowed the fan to enjoy the 2 or 3 weeks when they invariably won 14 out of 16 or 18 out of 24 as a sign of better things to come next year. Small things, like Ralph Garr chasing a batting title and big things, like Hank Aaron chasing down Babe Ruth, and absurd things, like how many times could Sonny King throw the ball into the stands on routine grounders to short, were the moral victories that we fans followed while we could not follow a pennant chase.

The Redsox, on the other hand, went about business in such a way that showed their fans that they were very capable of competing for championships. They approached such heights again and again, only to fall short in ways that left their fans hungover and emotionally drained. They would take their fans to the brink, only to turn their backs as if to say, "Nah, no thanks, not interested, just kidding."

Now the question is simple. It's a fan question for a real fan, not a sunny day fan, who only shows up when the team is winning, but a fan who wears the hat even when the team can't seem to get it going, and even when they have blown it once again. Is it better for them to drop into the cellar with a long losing streak at the beginning of the year (Braves of that era), or is it better for them to hold your attention, build up your hopes, then blow it in some gut wrenching exposition that makes the fan want to swear off all sports like an alcoholic fresh off a bender?

Football, Carolina, and Humble Pie.

As a life long Gamecock fan, I have learned humility and the true meaning of being humble from a very young age. In over 100 years of football at the State's flagship university, it is interesting to note:



*only one team has won a double digit amount of games. 1984 the team went 10-2. The first loss was to a 4 win Navy team in November when Carolina had risen to # 2 in the country. The second loss was in the Gator bowl to Oklahoma State coached by Jimmy Johnson, pre-Miami Hurricane and Dallas Cowboy days.



* for many years we have been known as the graveyard of coaches. Many a savior has entered the hallowed grounds of Williams Brice Stadium only to leave or be forced out after posting unsavory results. It started with Rex Enright (the Notre Dame connection and former Georgia assistant) in the 30's and 40's. Not a whole lot of success, but he hung around longer because he beat Clemson with some regularity.



*Paul Dietzel won a national title at LSU before coming to Carolina as the savior of the 60's. He did coach the team to their only conference title ever (1969 ACC), but resigned a few seasons later (1973) after an 0-5 start. He never coached again.



*Jim Carlen was successful in West Virginia and at Texas Tech had some very successful teams, and coached George Rogers (1980 Heisman Trophy winner). He was fired after the 1981 season. His record at USC was 45-36-1, but he left never to coach again. I am informed and believe, he fell in love with a young former cheer leader who he left his wife for. He eventually made the cheerleader his new wife and I am informed that they have had a happy life together. Nonetheless, while the record was by no means a bad one as coaches in Columbia go, I do not think the board, the president, or the alumni were too impressed with the latter fact. This, coupled with the fact that he could not beat Clemson (not that anyone else has since Enright) led to the ultimate demise.



*1983 brought Joe Morrison to town. His teams were very exciting and very competitive, some were very highly rated. Alas, He died after the 1987 season leaving behind a big steroid scandal, probation, and disenchantment.

*the 90's brought Sparky Woods and Brad Scott. . .enough said, haha. Anybody remember the last time Carolina played the Citadel? How about the 20 game losing streak at the turn of the century? Sparky has been toiling as an assistant and just landed a head coaching job at VMI. Brad is coaching at. . .Clemson, as an offensive assistant coach.

You know, after all is said and done, the overall record in the entire history of the program is almost .500. Look up college football mediocrity. We might be tops at something after all. I am a realist, I love my team not one less bit because they happen to lack success. Somebody has to be the homecoming opponent. I guess that is a little cold, but. . . Enough for now. I'll cover more later when I am not feeling so cynical.

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Playing a little and enjoying it more.

I have played in the Brit Blogger the past 2 weeks. Yesterday it was like being in a Tuck Fard Tourney. All my Canadian friends were there. I'll be playing in the weekly Tuck Fard tourney this evening. My friend BamBam has threatened to pay my entry if I don't show up, haha.

Whatever disenchantment I am feeling for online poker these, it is not a money problem. I have not spent more money than the entertainment value for the games I play. On the other hand, I do seem to be spending more time than the allotted entertainment value for the games I play. In other words, I am spending too much fawkin time on the computer.

For those of us who are predisposed to a self destructive fondness for drugs and alcohol, gambling can too have its dark side. When I first started playing in a local home game in college, the idea was that there was a certain amount of money that I would have spent out in a bar, or on a date, etc. I took the minimum amount and set that aside each week for poker nite. This was the late 70's early 80's, and $20 to $30 a week was no small sum for me. I was in college for the first time then. (six years at the College of Charleston- almost 3 semester's worth of credit before I threw in the towel). I never missed a rent check, never missed a bill, etc. I always have had the discipline to pay the obligations before playing with what was left. Though I did have a room-mate who lost his tuition money playing Acey-Ducey (a game I learned quickly to avoid). Even during my drug induced, drunken, debauched, and degenerate days in my mid to late 20's, I always paid my bills. I didn't always dress so nice, but I paid my bills.

I did not have anyone to account to for my time. . .other than my boss, and he got my allotted weekly quota. I still played cards and gambled in those days, but Budweiser, cocaine and tequila were my main family, friends, and acquaintances. Cards was a time killer. I did have a penchant for the parley cards, but anything I won went to dope and booze. Now that I am older, mature (I hesitate to claim this character flaw), and married, the time factors into quality time with my spouse. Now that I run my own small business, the time runs into time spent making the business run. Now that my father has passed and my mother is on her own, the time runs into the things that she needs help from me.

I might not be lucky at cards, but in life, I am the luckiest man I know. I have a life that is second to none. . . a great family that I could not have hand chosen better, a wonderful wife, who hand chose me, and a job where the only drawback is I work for a prick (I only have myself to blame). Hell, on further review I might be the luckiest bastard in the world at cards, too. As stupid as I play sometimes, I still find joy and friendship at a card table.



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Playing more and enjoying it less

I am on at least a one month hiatus from playing Full Tilt Poker (other than the Tuckfard). . . In fact, I did not play last two week at all other than Tuck Fards I & II which I played the last two Mondays. As always, there is a nice crowd there. My on line game plain sucks, which is not unsuaual. My attitude really sucks too, and there is no one to blame but me. I guess that is life sometimes. The poker gods willing, and the computer battery working, I'll play TF again next week, but my heart aint quite in it. Maybe I'll even post a decent post again, haha, or even once. It is football season and between USC and Clemsonsome of the best tragi-comedy theater goes on right here in my home state. If there aint some fine material there before the second kickoff, it'll be a first.

Best Olympic Memmory

Winter 1980--Hockey--need I say more. My friend the Captain told me that it was his first memory of Olympic competition. . . that being from Minnesota, hockey was king. Well for a few special days in the winter of 1980, hockey was king in Charleston, South Carolina, too. I dare say it was king all over the USA. . . Hell, in Charleston we couldn't spell hockey prior those days. What did I know about icing? Well, it had to do with cakes, not sport.

But everybody loves an underdog, especially when it is your own underdog. What a great Olympic time. I don't have the words, the phrases, the blogogasmic talent to do justice to what we watched and the exhilaration we experienced. The emotions that the country felt. . .it was like a national spiritual experience. It brought us together for that very special few days. It didn't seem to matter where people came from or who their people were: tall, short, rich, poor, gay, straight, black, white, rock-rib republican redneck, liberal yellow dog democrat, christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, Wicca, agnostic, or any other individual identification--We were all proud countrymen; we were all hockey fans. The USSR was so talented, so experienced in international competition. Our rag tag group of college kids pulled the upset of the century ( in our eyes). This was the days before the real pros were allowed to compete in the Olympics. Ad it was a joyful and unifying moment.


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Olympic memmories

The first Olympics I remember watching with interest were the 1972 Summer Games from Munich. Now there are several noteworthy events that happened there, the least of which not being the kidnapping/murder of the Israeli athletes. On the lighter side there was Mark Spitz--the Michael Phelps of his day, scoring 7 golds; Olga Korbut, the Russian gymnast who captured every one's heart and imagination; and there was the unthinkable loss of the US basketball team to the USSR.

It was kind of like mini lessons about life wrapped up in two weeks. I had no idea about terrorism and politics and the tragic consequences when extremists took out their frustrations on innocent parties, but I learned about real tragedy. There were real live young men and women who were killed. . . died when all they wanted to do was compete.

There was the nationalistic pride brought on when US Swimmer, Mark Spitz put on an heroic performance. he was actually sent home early because he was Jewish and there was fear of other terror attacks.



Prior to 1972, the USA had never lost an Olympic basketball game. It was as if it was deemed that just being American gave us a birthright to the gold in basketball every four years. I believed it in my heart of hearts. There was some injustice, it seems, in the way that the soviets dethroned our cagers, but in light of what happened to the Israelis, tragedy is just not a fitting word. A lot of pride was swallowed, but not one person died. In the bigger scheme of life, where disappointments are meted out to us all by the bucket load on a daily basis, this was a lesson in humility. It really did not matter how wronged or indignant, I felt about the results or how they were obtained, they weren't gonna be changed. There was not one thing I could do about it. Time spent begrudging the facts was time wasted, life goes on. We were going to lose sooner or later anyway--and did, more and more often as the years moved on. And it wasn't because we were bad, the rest rest of the world just caught up. More over the soviets were our arch enemies. I really believed we were the good guys back then, that we always did right. They were the evil empire, and always did bad. . .more history and politics I did not understand.

Even at 11 years old, I had the common sense to realize that the basketball teams of neither country were out there for world political or military domination. They were there to compete. And even despite this slight at the hands of our rivals, it seemed the whole country indeed put aside political differences when we all cheered for Olga Korbut with heartfelt enthusiasm. It did not matter that she was from the Soviet Union. She was a special athlete and through her performance she earned the respect and the cheers of everyone from what I could observe. Nationalism was put aside, and for few glorious days a little gymnast conquered the world.

Oh well enough for now. . .

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Inaugural LPR Tour

. . .and I was there!! Though nothing in particular good happened. in my hand, I did run my set of 10's into a set of J's in what I felt was a masterful move to get my opponent AI. lol. That is before I was so rudely shown the error of my ways. Later (with barely more than the blinds) I was shown the door and said good night when my AK sooooted lost to AK os on a spade, spade, spade flop, spade turn. (My AK was clubs.) It was a good game for some one, just not for me. My only consolation is that this was the first and I got to say I was there amongst the real players rubbing elbows and tossing chips for the very first Live Poker Radio Tour.

I really have only one question. . .How many of these things do you have to cash in to get an intro to Annabelle the sheep. You know she looks pretty hot dancing around in those high heels and pink wool. . . . Now you're talkin' live poker radio celebrity!!!

Poker and Roller Coasters: who woulda thunk it

Remember the thrill of the roller-coaster or whatever other gut gripping, death defying ride that made your adrenaline pump at the county fair or amusement park? Now think about the thrill of poker. What if you learned that it is possible to combine these two events into one tragi-comic event. . .and that there are casinos out there that are in the process of perfecting it.

Well last weekend, I found myself in Little River, South Carolina along with my good friend Wes (Big Pirate) where we hopped on a casino boat for some live poker entertainment. Little did we know that we were truly in for a WEEEEEEEE ride. If you happened to look at the weather for the south east U.S. that weekend, you would have noticed that there was a tropical storm off the coast of South Carolina- a fact that deterred neither of us one bit. In fact, while none of our other friends showed, mostly due to the weather conditions, (though I did have one friend who cancelled because he conveniently remembered that it was his wedding anniversary. . .I guess a year in the dog house is a bit too much to pay for a gambling good time), we didn't even discuss the possibility of not going out.


The boat left the dock at 12 pm. After about 45 minutes the tables opened up, and I settled into 2/5 nlhe game that in the end left me healthier in the end than I started. Financially-that is-I bought in for the 100 minimum and cashed out 225. My trips held, my two pairs worked and I was able get away from some trouble before I was hurt. Uneventful, but profitable.

The adventure though was by far in the boat ride. Six to eight foot seas left quite a few people searching for Dramamine, trashcans, deck rails and toilets. My stomach had several out of body experiences, though it was able to avoid spilling any inner body fluids. The ride kind of reminded me of Space Mountain at Disney World. By the second hour, and after a Dramamine supplement, I was counting the minutes til we were going to be back in port as little beads of sweat continuously appeared on my forehead. I haven't seen that many people puking in so many different places since I was a freshman in college and partying at a beer bash. I had to get up from the table once when I thought I was a goner, but somehow I held it in. I watched a lady run from her seat at the slots and empty her contents into a trashcan, which surprisingly brought no sympathetic like/kind act from me. I made my way down to the bathroom where I heard some pretty scary sounds. Somehow, I never got sick. Hey, I'm not complaining. . .I am grateful.

I'd kind of like to make this a quarterly event, but I promise, if there is a low pressure system off the coast, I'll be typing about the weekend plans that didn't materialize.

Thanks for stoppin by, ya'll come back now, ya hear!

Like watching popcorn pop

I played 4- 10 man $3.4 turbo PLO HL SNG's on Sunday on Poker Stars and I cashed in them all- 3-2d's and 1-3d. It was kind of like watching popcorn pop, or better yet lemmings throwing themselves off of the edge. Mass migrations of chips made their way to the center of the table, some went back where they started with interest while others left their former owners out in the cold seatless and wondering wtf happened. Anyhow, the last one I played in was funny for the above annalogy plus this. I won the first hand outright with 4 A's. Then I sat and watched as the person on my right hits a streak and wipes out the rest of the table in like ten hands. We are down to just the two of us. We play a couple of hands when all of a sudden a light bulb comes on and she says "I thought this was Hi/Lo" You know. . .I paused. . .I looked, and I had to admit "So dod I." We were playing PLO. I fell out of my chair, collected $9.00, and have not stopped laughing since. Go figure

postage and donkatrotomy

For the past couple of months I have been doing well on my posts (clearly a perspective thing) If you consider the frequency of posting a good thing, as opposed to the quality of a post. . .(something I am not about to touch.)

Anyhow, I missed the Donkament last night when I took my lovely bride out to dinner and to a movie. The company was wonderful, but I still missed the donketrotomy. Donketrotomy shall be defined as that good time had by friends turning cards and chips with other friends and compatriots while good humor, laughs and good times are generally are shared by all despite the appearance of a good hand, bad hand, good flop, bad flop, suckout, suck job, blow job or hand job, or any other poker, or non-poker happening. The main objective being the sharing of a good time, poker prowess, on such an occasion is purely secondary.

That being said, I do look forward to the Tuckfard events on Monday. Come join us for a doo time, a yabba doo time, a yabba dabba doo time.. . . enough, don't want to step on anybody's lines here.

Event: Tuckfard ! (NLHE 7pm) and Tuckfard II (HORSE 8pm)
password (with reminder hint): muhctim is a (fill in the blank).

If you said Donkey, and have $3.50 in your bankroll, well then, you can pull up a chair at maybe not the most prestigious events to be found, but certainly two of the top three good times you will have anywhere in the cyberworld of donketrotomy!!! Good time guaranteed or all laughs will be refunded!!!

The more I do this. . .

The more I do this the more I realize the less I know. That is to say, I kind of feel silly writing anything at all most of the time. I think there is a parallel between my poker acumen ( poor choice of word) and these blogomorphic spasms that I call posts.. . .I am not really that good at either. However, I persevere at both. And every once in a while, I stumble upon a phrase, or I put together a couple of hands. . .the stars and the moon fall into line, and. . .MEDIOCRITY prevails!!! I approach good only in the eyes of Hunter and Callie. They greet me each evening with big yelps and kisses knowing that their supper dishes will soon be full. The only thing they ask in return is to share a few of their fleas with me. To be quite honest, sometimes that is good enough.

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WTF

Discipline experiment 4--I run my JJ into an A9. fucking 2 9's hit the board-the second on the river. I should know better than to play that shit. I am a fuckin loser. Nobody in his right mind plays JJ against A9--just assholes like me. . .and to beat all, it was the same person who caught the 8:1 shot and put me out w/ hi pocket JJ v. my pocket AA. I remained disciplined--not splashing chips around on donkey shit, but wtf. . .this one hurts. Again with the fuckin JJ==bain of my exisence. I surrender.. .put a fork in me, I am done. JJ is not in my range, even when the flop comes 973. No whining or disrespect aimed at TBA, but whoever is in charge of the card gods this month--fuck you, I do not appreciate your sense of humor.

Thanks for stoppin by, (unless you are a card god) ya'll come back now, ya hear.

Trifecta

Donkament--2d
Tuckfard I--1st
Tuckfard II -- 2d

A real accomplishment of donkorific heights. I can see it now: Guest appearance on Hee Haw; All expenses trip down the Chattahotchie river with Ned Beattie, Honorary Donk of the month. Sometimes life is good on the bottom of the heap... and don't be fooled, you don't get much more bottomer than me of late. Here's lookin up atcha. In all reality, I always have such a good time playing in these events, I have to thank the hosts and the participants. Great conversation, humor and fun. Till next time. . .

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Donk of the Week (runner-up)

WooHoo. I finnished second in the Donkament. I am the Runner-up Donkey of the week. Now you may not realize it, but this is a very important spot in the world of donketrotamy. If for any reason the Donk of the week should not be able to carry out the duties of the crown, well then, those duties would fall to the RUD. Just how likely is that to happen, you may ask. Remember, it wasn't too long ago where a donkey of the week (who shall remain nameless) had to step down when it was revealed that he had spent the night in the stables of a horse that belonged to another rider. Oh the shame. Then there was that donkey who in a moment of indiscretion had posed for Horseboy in those compromising positions with that cow. I hear there may have been some monkeys involved. . that was really embarassing. You know, if I am not mistaken, in order to avoid all of the bad publicity, I think they may have moved to Youranus. Then again, you'd have to ask mayor BamBam about that. I am sure their names have been changed to protect the, well you know. . . . So what I am saying is, should Bay falter. . .I'll be there.

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the Fawkin Card Gods are Fawkin Maniacs

Experiments in discipline game 2: Riverchasers. Very light turn out, I hang around very patiently only playing top starting hands as I am required by my self imposed lesson in discipline. Discipline be damned, second hour, I catch h AA, and, what else, IGH. Do not pass go, do not collect the double up. Nope, give up all of your chips and get the fuck out of here; gg and thanks for donating, sucker!!! Some one else has JJ. The same JJ that I got to go home with at the MATH on Monday. Only this time the fuckin cards gods give up the 8:1 shot when the jacks are against me. My fuckin JJ wasn't even stacked against higher pockets in my first race; the other A was flopped. I suck. I suck. I suck, but I don't suck out. . . .any how, I am, and was actually, over this about 5 mins after it happened. My mission is to learn discipline, even when taking or giving bad beats. . . make the right choices--which I did both times, though I came up short. I just think this is kind of funny... My vitriolic tantrum.

If you are ever involved in a hand with me and you have pocket JJ--take it to the bank. If you suspect me of having JJ, shoot me in the head, and make it painful.

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First Tourney Experiment

I played in the MATH last night. I did have to adjust my starting hand requirements to account for the six handed format. But I was able to play disciplined according to my goal for the most part. I did eventually finish 5 out of 15. I was low man, hovering at about 10 BBs when I woke up with JJ. Not a bad hand for my position and relative low stack. As it turned out I got all my chips in with the best hand in a classic race situation. Kat called with AQo there was an A somewhere in the flop, so IGH. Not altogether happy, but not altogether disappointed either.

I will play one more blogger event this week. Probably the Skills or Riverchasers, as they start earlier, but with the number of entrants being low right now the 10:00 pm start in the Mookie should allow me to get to bed by midnight. Same strategy--not necessarily to win, but to remain disciplined though the whole tourney. This is, for me, a lesson in self patience and discipline.

As always, thanks for stoppin by, ya'll come back now, you hear!

Humbling Sports: an exercise in ego deflation

Golf is a humbling sport. Poker, on the other hand is a humiliating sport. I started playing in the blogger tournaments to see how I stood. I can confidently say after six months, I stand in muck!!! Not the good kind of muck where I might have had the common sense to fold a hand I knew to be beat. No the nasty, smelly muck that filled mid-evil streets and burns the nostrils and makes children hide under the covers and on lookers cringe when I pay off that hand that I never had a shot at.

I am going to try an experiment in my next ten tourneys. I will not enter a hand unless I have a top 10% starting hand (blinds excepted). I will make myself be patient, I will attempt to learn discipline, to the extent that I will allow myself to blind out before I will enter with a less than what I am allowed to. I will not donk off with top pair, and I will not put my chips in a pot if I do not absolutley believe I am ahead. I will loosin up the starting requirements only when I have >7 bbs. I will also cut down my play to 1 or 2 per week.

I have been playing in the 90/3.3/mtt. It can be a donkfest, and for a long time I avoided it because I am susceptible to following the bad plays I see with bad plays of my own. However, in my past ten (which I will not attempt to analyze here) I have cashed in 5 (1-2d, 1-3d, 1-5th, 1- 8th , 1-9th). The last twenty 3.3s I have attempted to instill somewhat of the discipline I describe above, to varying degrees of success. There are a lot of good hands that get beat by better hands, suckout or no suckout. If someone wants to pay for all seven cards, they get to play all seven cards, no matter what kind of crap they start with. I always try to keep that in the back of my mind. Sometimes it stops me from tilting so fast.

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Games 9, 10, and 11

Well, what the hell do results have to do with making the right decisions?? I haven't the foggiest. But looking back the one thing this exercise has pointed me toward doing is trying to make the right decisions each time. I was fairly consistent about getting my money in with the best cards. They just didn't hold up all the time. Some of those times, my stack was so short that the would be caller was getting the event odds of knocking me out. I can pretty consistently get to the booobulous table. I gotta have some chips when I get there, or I'm mostly chum.


Anyhow:


Game 9 saw me as chip leader while there were still well over 50 players. My pocket A's got help, and I beat out pocket k's and pocket 9's (which also got help). I finished in 9th position. . .cha ching, ha ha. There were some hands I coulda played that as it turned, I woulda held. However, I got super tight, if for no other reason, to make the final table. I got there with the second lowest amount of chips and was quickly put into an all or nothing situation. I lost, but it was certainly a moral victory to cash.


Game 10 (5th place) The highlight play was when my Ah, 10h saw a two hearts on the flop with a 7h, 3h, 9x. 3 people are in with me, and I am faced with pushing in most of my stack. (over 9k in pot, I have 2.5 k and needing to call 1k to stay in. I push, two go away, the 1k calls and shows Q9 os. I hit an A on the river and get a lecture from the caller about chasing an A. I told him I was chasing the heart, because I had a nut flush draw and I thought the pot odds were right, not to mention I had a gutshot straight. Anyhow, I played it tight and aggressive from there and worked my way to 5th, Incidentally, I was knocked out when my AA lost to chip leader's kk that got help on the flop. At that point I was well below the rest of the field. If I had doubled up, I would still been in 5th, though only a few thousand chips woulda separated the 2nd through 5th.



So 5.62 + 18.00 = 23.62. That makes me a loser with a small "l". Practice it with me now: Go to the mirror. Put your hand on you forehead palm toward you. Bring your fingers into a fist and leave the single center finger up. There you have it. Loser with a "small L". You know I have noticed people making this gesture in my honor in all kinds of places. . .traffic jams, Family Court buildings (mostly by the "losing" party toward the prevailing party), teenagers (toward their parents, when they think they are not looking), and President Bush toward the entire US population (oh well, not gonna go into that any further, I think Rupert Murdoch and that Chaney kid mighta been egging him on).

Game 11 (3.3) Feeling confident from the cash roll that I have been experiencing, I decide to play a bonus game. Damn if I don't finish in 6th place. I gotta be honest, it seemed easier than any of the others, maybe because I was not feeling the pressure of being 0 for 8. I played fairly tight. Didot go to war with anything less than trips, my QQ held up twice, my KK was beaten by a stack that was being blinded out, so it didnt hurt too much. My sooted connectors, and my A, Face, and my medium pair hole cards made me some chips in the booobulous zone. It was actually kind of fun.


So, thanks for stoppin by, ya'll come back now, ya hear!

poker 10 continued

Monday night I was able to attempt to continue the 10 90 person sng experiment. This is taking longer than expected because I have to pay penance for being on vacation for two weeks. Ah well, work is kind of fun right now. The two weeks off was just what I needed.


Anyhow, Monday night I played in a $1.25 sng. I lasted almost 3 hours. I started at 5:45. TF ! started at 7, I was still in, and so were 40 0f my brethren. At that point I had doubled my stack. While it took a while I was able to coast in for a $1.98 win. Let me Tell you what I am gonna do with that bounty. . . . Actually, part of my deal with this is to take it serious and not play more than one at a time--for good or bad, so this one, I am not counting this one.


Game 5: I just got the opportunity to play another 3.3 ko this morning. As I type I am on break 21st out of 29 remaining. . .oh, oh break over. no hands bring me to 16 out of 16 22 in the sb held up, kind of, I suck out 4 hearts to go with my 2 of hearts, now 13 out of 14, and not looking good. as I lose my connection. Screw it!!! am going to work. Oops connection is back. . . and I went out in 12th without a whimper. . .actually got to play an AJ Soooted for my last 2700 chips, woohoo.--I am beginning to believe I suck at this. So far 4 x 3.3 + 1.25 spent/ Big goose eggs coming back.

Game 6: (3.3)fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck, shit, fuck, fuck. 41 players left (I am 20th). I am in bb w/Q10h, 5 players call, K93h flop. I bet pot. all fold but 1, he raises, I jump all in. he calls and shows 33 (fucking idiot knew he needed a miracle) K on turn, fuck me good bye. I only played 4 hands, to that point--tight, played them all strong when I had the chance. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, ouch, fuck!!!!!!

Game 7: (3.3) am starting this game right after the last fiasco. . .new fiasco AA knocks out my KK Did I mention that I suck. the AA slow played it masterfully though, I am jealous (the best compliment I know). The flop gave me top pair and four flush I thought I got me chips in with the best hand. I never even had a sniff. Did I mention that I suck. Not in a homosexual way. No, at least then I could enjoy the fact that I suck. No, I suck in the miserable little way that only a hopeless wanna be a better on line poker player but can't even turn the computer on. Hell, it aint even that good, I should be so lucky as to not be able to turn the computer on.

Game 8: (3.3) this is becoming silly. just after first hour break, I get my chips in with pocket 6's flop comes 6d 10d x. I get called next card is no help to either I go AI, .. my opponent comes in shows 7d8d and river brings 9 d for straight fluck (a hybrid of the words Flush and fuck--meaning more specifically, fuck me)

Poker--just a sick thought

I think I have it figured out. Maybe poker is a game that was created by sadists to be played by masochists. Where else can we have such fun wallowing in our misery?? Just a thought. Is it that only those who can stand the most pain can actually survive?? Not many people want to talk about that great hand or session that went their way. That could be interpreted as hubris, or bring the wrath of the poker gods, or worse (if there be such a thing). But everyone has a story or a memory that still stings with the thought or the retelling. No one else really wants to hear it, because they have their own. But, even the winners remember the pain of losing. Like my dear old dad used to say, it's kinda like gettin phucked without a kiss. Here's hopin you find a few kisses out there!!

Thanks for stoppin by, ya'll come back now, you hear.

10 games ala Bam Bam (first 4)

Ok, inspired by my bedrock brethren, I am playing ten 90 seat sng's to see if I am able to overcome some of my own donkery. I am starting at the lowest level and my goal is to see where I stand. Nothing fancy. It will take me at least 5 days, maybe even 10 to complete. I have a couple of ground rules. No playing more than one table at a time. No giving stupid odds, no stupid plays when I know they are stupid.

Game 1: (1+.25)In the first hour I worked my way to 20 out of 46 without having to put my stack at risk or finding it necessary to enter into any races. I had a run of kk, AJ, 66, and JT s, wich allowed me to doubl up. No one follwed me to the show down, and I feel like I was able to extract the most I could out of each hand. I lost a quarter of my stack shortly after the first break when my 2 pair lost to a higher rivered 2 pair. My opponent had top pair with A kicker and was short stacked I had top pair, bottom pair, and A fell on the river. Don't know that I could have avoided that one. I lost another big chunk when my trip K's were out kicked. I fianlly said good night (23rd) when my A7 on the button brought an A7x flop. BB and cut off checked - I raised pot, got called by both. Turn brough Q, BB checked followed by cut off's AI. I was left with 800 chips and was getting a little better than 7:1 odds, I called. BB turns AA (nice play) cutoff turn QQ, meaningless river brings 7. No cash, no final table. But I am not disappointed by my play.





Game 2: (3.30)--Looked at 1 flop through first 20 hands-small pp, out of position, got to see it cheap, but no help- three overs on flop---bye. Patience brings jj in the sb, modest raise 3 players, 99j flop (sweet), pot bet all fold. . .ah well, perhaps I was too agressive. I make it to the booobulous arena, only to run out of steam and be sent packing in 14th. I made my way to 14th without a single bounty.



Game 3: (3.3) AA cracked early, bye, bye.



Game 4: (3.3) Picked up two bounties early. Caught pocket J's, jqx flop, ended up AI v (what else) pocket q's. I am left with 450 chips. With a little luck I work my way back to 10,000 chips, but run out of steam again in the booobulous zone. 14th again. I hope this is not an omen.



Meanwhile, I have been steady playing 1/2 and 2/4 lhe, and doing fair. My monthly allowance is in the positive as I type. Haha, I know how to take care of that, my precious. There's a no limit cash game out there just one notch above our comfort zone. . . wait, the nasty bagginses is there, waiting for us to do something foolish so he can takes the precious and bag it up with the rest of our foolishly lost preciouses. . . . On second thought, I'll enter another 90 sng, maybe a $1.25 this time. Then I can really show off my donkish figure at the Tuckfards, I and II, hope to see you there. . . I'll be back

Belen II

No time pressures. . . no special place to be. . this really has been a nice vacation. In my week there, I have played as much live poker as I could have hoped to play. Mostly 2/4 limit, but I played a couple of hours of 2/6 before I left. Saturday I played 2/4 limit for about 9 hours at the Isleta Casino. I felt like I was poker drunk by the end there. I actually played at least two hours every day except Friday and Tuesday. It was a winning venture for me, which was nice; but mostly I was thrilled to meet some really nice people, local and visiting. The regulars were all pretty nice. I sat next to a man on my right (Gilbert) who hit a straight flush. The casino gave him a shirt for that feat. . .he gave it to me. I am going to send it to my friend Wes as a souvenir. The lady on my left (Sarah) comes to South Carolina a couple times a year with her husband to play golf and visit with friends. One of those friends gives them all a place to stay at her condo in Myrtle Beach. There was another couple at the table (Tom and Paula) that I did not get to talk to as much, but they were regulars and added to the general conviviality at the table. It was almost as if they were all having a friendly home game and I was invited.


Sunday we spent time at my brother-in-law's house (David) where he gave his daughter (Jaime) a graduation party. All in all it was a top notch affair. When it was all over the kids went bowling, and the adults went off to the casino. This time it was the Sandia. While the Isleta has that nice "homey" atmosphere, Sandia is spacious with much more variety. The smoke is not quite as oppressive, the lights are brighter, the ceiling is higher, and and the food is a little better. It really is a nicely run poker room.


Enough about cards. I actually have two brother-in-laws who live in the Albuquerque area. David works for the railroad. He has raised three girls and seems to have a nice life with his wife (Karen) and kids (though Jaime is the youngest and the others have moved out and actually live in North Dakota) The other brother-in law has had a slew of miscellaneous jobs throughout his life. . .mostly he has battled his own booze and dope demons. The most exciting thing about this trip thus far has been seeing him (Tom). He has turned a corner, or pulled himself together, or just plain gotten it. Either way, he is working at his job, and he is a fine father to his two boys. He had a truly humble attitude that leads me to believe he is genuine.



I have seen drunks and addicts clean up long enough to keep the heat off only to turn around and dig themselves a deeper hole. It can be a painful cycle to watch. Tom's turn around was quite the pleasant surprise for us. It brought joyful tears to my wife's eyes. She does not understand a lot about addicts and alcoholics, but she is definitely not an enabler. She is quick to forgive and has no problem giving second chances when they are merited. By the same token, she has very little problem telling some one to get it together or pack their shit. She did this to Tom several years ago when he was living in Charleston. He eventually found his bottom (his own words) when the rest of the family stopped taking care of him. He spent a couple of months in jail and no came running to bail him out. I am leaving out a lot of the other painful details, but suffice it to say Tom did some pretty hard bottom dwelling in the past few years. I know there are no guarantees, but it did my heart and soul a lot of good to see him doing so well.

Heroes II

You know, I did not plan to write about a hero every day, nor every week, not even every month, but just whenever the mood strikes and the "hero" has done something that I find heroic. However, my own choice of this subject matter has had an affect on me wherein I am finding heroes everywhere I look, whether I look for them or not. Personally, this has been a good thing.



That being said, today I have found two more heroes: First, there is Kat of Kattitude fame. Her glass half full posts have made a positive impression on at least one person. It is not always easy to find the positive in life, nor is it always gratifying to invite those around you to do the same. But Kat's efforts are heroic to me. The posts help me pause and reflect every time I see one and they make me think of something that I have to be grateful for, which is not a bad thing. I gotta be honest here. I have a lot of stuff in my life to be grateful for. I just forget sometimes until someone or something reminds me.... then I get to add that someone or something to the list. If I am really lucky, I get to add them to both lists, the hero list and the gratitude list.

Second, and no less important, is Donkette. Her series of posts on her recovery are well worth the read. I understand, appreciate, and relate to every word. . .Her adventures before and after have helped, and will continue to help, allot of other addicts and alcoholics to find their chance at recovery. Keep up the good work, one day at a time!!!

Youthful Millionaires

Every time I read about an athlete or actor or other famous who has fallen off of his or her pedestal I wonder at the public outcry. I realize that part the public ire is rooted in plain old jealousy. If I were 18 to 25 years old and someone wanted to give me an ungodly amount of money to act in a movie, sing a song, toss, kick, hit, or catch a ball, I wonder if I would have been the role model for what we strive to be, or the role model for what we strive not to be.

More than likely, I would have been the Steve Howe kind of role model. For those of you who do not remember, Mr. Howe was quite a talented reliever in the 80's, but cocaine got in the way. His exta-ordinary talent at throwing a baseball made the powers that be more than willing to take a chance on him time after time. And after each failure, we stood aghast that he could throw it all away again and again. Like Mr. Howe, I loved to drink and party throughout the 80's too. But unlike Mr. Howe, I had no particular athletic talent that made anyone think I should be paid life changing money. Nor did the general public think I should be a role model for anyone. Truth be told, I am probably luckier that I lacked such talent and/or scrutiny in my youth. I may not have lived to tell my own tale.

Very rarely are me heroes public figures, but I do not exclude them. This brings me to today's hero: Josh Hamilton. He was the number one pick of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays and he was sent to Charleston when their class A franchise was here. He, very publicly, and very painfully dismantled, decomposed and destroyed his career and his life with booze and dope in a way that made me wince and cringe more than once as I followed his demise. I have equally cheered as he has battled back from a front row seat seat on skid row to a spot in the starting lineup for the Texas Rangers. The Reds gave him a shot at redemption last year and he made the most of it.

It is not because he can knock the cover off of the ball with a talent that has and will command more money that I will see in my lifetime, that he is my hero. Nope, it is because he has had the grace and humility to face his demons and that he has had the courage to overcome what was taken from him by his own doings. And he has the gratitude to try to give something back. He did not have the option melt down in the private, anonymous way that most people live their lives. He has had to do it in the public eye and for good or for ill, under a scrutiny that would crush the spirit of many a human being better than I.

He may never be HOF material talent wise, but he is exhibiting HOF character, at least for today.

Heroes

My heroes don't have super powers. They don't walk on water or leap tall buildings in a single bound. They don't make millions of dollars, or run countries, or states, or cities. They don't fight wars, or lead great battles, or huge armies. They don't win MVP awards or lead their teams to championships or colossal upsets. They don't write, they don't play cards, they don't do anything that the world judges as being financially, intellectually or athletically better than anyone else.

My heroes are real life human beings with real human faults, who somehow make the lives of the people they touch each day a little bit better. Sometimes the know it, sometimes they don't. But they are not going to toot their own horn to tell you or me what wonderful people they are or things they are doing. We have to look, listen, and notice. Really they are just plain people who go out there and do what it takes to live their lives each day without trying to draw any special attention to themselves for doing so.

Yes, I have a lot of heroes. and I am going to write about one or two of them every chance I get. Sometimes it will be an individual, sometimes it will be a trait that I find to be heroic, sometimes it will be both. Today's heroes are those men and women, step mothers and step fathers, who make a child's life a little bit better. Those who give a safe home, shelter, clothing, guidance, love to children who are not of their blood for no other reason than that the child needs it. All we ever hear in the news is the bad stuff. But there are millions of heroes out there who we never read about on the front page of the paper or on CNN.

My brother married his lovely wife and she was a single mom. He adopted Ashliegh and she is his daughter, just like Rachael and Conner, her younger siblings. There is no favoritism that I have ever observed, but I notice a lot of love in that family. My brother in law has a similar situation. His first wife had a daughter prior to their getting married. Her natural father remained somewhat in the picture, but aloof, never spent a lot of time with the child. When b-i-l and first wife split up (she actually left--abandoned her children, from what I understand), oldest child stayed with b-i-l. He had no legal obligation there, and little moral obligation, but her prospects were bleak without him. He gave her a home, kept her safe, warm, and got her through to adulthood along with her two younger sisters. She is an adult and has child of her own, he is still more of a parent/ grandparent to her than either her bio mother or father.

Look around yourself. We all know someone who fits the mold. To me these are the real heroes in that they make a difference-not necessarily a perfect difference, but a positive difference in the lives of those who need them not out of obligation, but out of love.

Belen

I sit in a Holiday Inn Express in Belen, NM. Belen is a small RR town about 25 miles south of Albuquerque. It is home to my lovely bride's brother and his family. There are countless casinos within an hours drive. I played cards in the Sandia (Wednesday) and Isleta (Thursday) and enjoyed the experience very much. Sandia is a little roomier, about twice as many tables, but Isleta was friendlier. I noticed they go out of their way to learn and use people's names. . . the dealers and the management.

These were my first excursions into real life casino poker rooms. While I limited my exposure to 2/4 limit he, I am no longer a casino virgin, and I enjoyed the experience. Yes, it was good for me. Nothing beats holding the cards in your hands. Looking at your opponents, talking, commincating, enjoying a laugh.

Friday we drove to Sante Fe . What a nice drive. The landscape is nothing like what I am used. Kind of like being at the beach withut the water. Then there are those huge mountains. We really don't have anything to compare in the low country of South Carolina. The air is so dry it is taking some adjustments for my body to work right. . .sore sinuses and nose bleeds have been the irritation thus far. I am told that my body should adjust about two hours before we leave for home.