Axioms
If you’re on the road doing five to ten under the speed limit, chances are if you look in your rearview mirror you’ll see a blue Buick right on your tail, fuming mad and desperately looking to get by you.
I’d be the guy in the Buick.
It’s simple fact, obvious truth, that I have very little patience. Extremely tiny amounts of it. Razor slim, as a matter of fact.
And nowhere this weekend was this lack of patience on display more than in the two No Limit home games (Saturday and Sunday) in which I played.
Saturday I’m going to chalk up as “not my fault, really.” Reason being, I can’t remember one time where I folded cards (and that’s about all I did really) and saw the board thinking “sheesh, there’s my straight,” or “I would have made that flush,” or “can’t see a raise with 38o, but there would have been my two pair.”
I tried playing rock solid. I tried a few bluffs. Every time I bluffed, I was caught. It was brutal.
Eventually, with my stack below 500 (off original 1125), I made a “fuck it” bet all-in on a pair of pocket threes, and was bounced by KQo catching one card.
Sunday was the “Blogger Crossover Home Game,” where an invite was extended to
LG to join in the fun.
Without getting too deep into who-had-what, or how I played this-and-that, I will say that impatience again got the better of me.
We were about two and a half hours into the game, and I was about +400 off of the original stack. LG was down –100 or so, and Gil (his friend) was up probably +600. The three of us were the big stacks at the table.
And somehow I talked myself into, instead of out of, calling LG’s all-in raise when he was holding QQ, and I was holding KTs.
At the time, my logic made sense to me. First, I’d get a significant chip lead. I play much better poker from the front of the pack. Especially against less experienced players (which we had in spades). Second, I’d take out one of the two dangerous players left. I felt that I had to take that chance.
But who was it (
HDub?) that said that any time you make a call when you know you’re behind, you’re on the tilt?
I knew I wasn’t holding the best hand. I knew I had to draw out. I was right when I figured he didn’t have AA or KK. But even against 88 I would still have been a dog.
Why did I call?
I was playing fairly solid poker (I think, correct me LG if I’m wrong) up until that point. If I continued to tread water, it was only a matter of time before I got on the “final table” with the final nine, and I knew I had an advantage over six to seven of those players easily if I played smart poker.
But I talked myself into it.
I’m really quite disappointed in myself in retrospect. I have holes in my game, but impatience is the wide gaping canyon through which there is no passage.
To that end, I’m “going back to the lab” like
Iggy in order to screw my head on straight again. Three early exits in a row in the home game have me worried that I’m losing what edge I have on the regulars in that game.
I’m not sure what I can do to improve my patience, but I’ll think of something.
By the way, nice guys LG and Gil. I did crack up a little bit on the inside when I remarked about LG’s personalized Tigers jersey with his last name and Lance Parrish’s number on the back. Well, that wasn’t the funny part. The funny part was when he asked me with a straight face, “When I get my jersey with ‘Lord Geznikor’ on the back, what number should I get?”
I’m not sure D&D names on baseball jerseys play well in middle America. Maybe that’s hip on the coasts, I don’t know.
We did both agree that it would be super cool to have a personalized jersey, #27, with the name HAMMER across the back. That would be very, very cool.