It’s always been true on this chosen profession, there are long periods of nothing at all, followed by a few hours of crushing insanity. I’m bored now, which should be obvious, because the show is a few hours away and the producers shoulder the burden now. Usually, it’s in times like these where everthing goes berzerk.
I’m off on Fridays, and the wife’s off too, she’s the chapperone for the oldest daughter’s field trip to a North Carolina apple orchard. Great setup for success folks: the house is empty and I have a few fresh Granny Smiths in my future. I play better when the house is empty and without distraction, except for the TV. Today is gangster Friday.
I’ve been bad at sbobet poker lately, not unlucky, just bad. I’ve misread my opponents intentions, so that, even when I correctly perceive weakness, I misread their ability to fold. Worse still, I’d gotten bored with NLHE, bored with the patient tight-agressive monsters I have to play against donkeys, bored with the same pot odds and basic math that seemed so thrilling just one year ago. It’s as if, bored with good play, I’ve played poorly just for the kicks.
My friend Maigrey says it’s like therapy sometimes, to drop down to mico-limits and just let the inner moron out. I actually tried that for a full week, I blew away a bill with a new login, at a crappy poker site, calling down almost anything with everything. Somehow, I won much more than I should. That helped a lot.
On Wednesday, I played in a tournament with BadBlood, the Mark, Otit, and Frank. The play, with the exception of the names above, was perfectly awful from the start. I decided to play it straight. In the beginning we …