I recently took a hiatus from all poker playing. And that’s not a bad thing at all now and then. I needed to clean out the bad feelings I’d been developing toward it, particularly after being demolished online. In retrospect I never had a chance and I don’t think most folks do when they play online. But my bad feelings about online poker spilled over to live poker and I played like a true donkey.
A friend of mine recently told me he’d been caught up in an email war with PokerStars over what he perceived to be some irregularities. Indeed, he had lost around $20,000 in a month and though I know he isn’t the best player around, he’s not much removed from a rock and plays as tight as you can play without being a rock.
A few Fallsview regulars and I celebrated our birthdays a week ago. By some quirk all four of us were born in late August, and we all share some traits, being late summer babies and all, I’m convinced of it. We’re all pretty decent poker players, and we all love NFL football, mixed martial arts, Dean Martin, voluptuous women and the short stories of Ernest Hemingway.
A fellow I’ve run into a few times at Fallsview named Alessandro showed up the other night and I think he underwent some kind of transformation during one hand, which convinced me that poker has the power not only to humble people and reduce them to paranoiac babbling idiots, but it can sometimes reveal to its participants glimpses of the divine, of the paradisal, of the real and beautiful world t
Table etiquette in poker isn’t a complicated thing, really. Too much demonstration, slow-rolling, talking when you’re not in the hand, smelling bad, looking bad, being a general asshole – it’s not rocket science my friends. Remember, when you’re going to a poker game that you’re not going to a bordello, a crack house, an abattoir, or a pig sty. Look at the fellows on television.
The other day at a home game in Toronto I was complaining to my friend Carmenooch that I hadn’t seen pocket aces in over a month. “It’s statistically improbable,” I said. “The odds suggest that you should get pocket aces every 221 hands, or something like that. Well, between computer action and live games I’ve played more than a thousand hands and I haven’t caught a whiff of pocket aces.
One of the reasons maxims become maxims is because they express a general truth or rule of conduct, crystalized over time.
Alas, once in a blue moon you go to the casino and run into a player, nondescript, taciturn, perhaps dressed in modest or sports-related garb, wearing unremarkable sunglasses, very little jewelry, and absolutely no cologne or fragrance of any kind, who doesn’t seem to signify at the table at all, who seems to cast no shadow on the world whatsoever, and who will likely leave a rather small carbon f
My friend Gaylord (named after the pitcher, no call for snickering) was understandably upset. Sometimes things happen in poker that simply transcend the understanding, that couldn't be foreseen, nay, in their most grotesque and horrific manifestations couldn't be conceived of even in a paranoid delirium. Gaylord is a solid player and a stand-up human being.
Sometimes passions get overheated during a poker game. It’s understandable. If you’re not running well bitterness creeps in, animus, negativity. If you’re running well you might have a tendency to show off a little, bully the table, make jibes and jokes about your opponents’ playing ability.
Premature ejaculation, also known as rapid ejaculation, rapid climax, premature climax, blowing your load too soon, or early ejaculation, affects 2.5 to 4 per cent of poker players in North America. Admittedly not a large number, but for the sufferer of the condition, or illness if you will, life can be difficult.
We’ve all heard about the online poker scandals – and to this day I’m leery of online play. I just don’t trust putting my money into something so abstract, so immaterial. Cheating, however, isn’t limited to online game rooms. Of course, cheating in a casino, what with the extreme security in place, automatic card-shufflers and so forth, is next to impossible.
What happens when you play “perfect” poker – that is, when you only play premium cards, when you only push your chips in with the best hand, when you make smart lay downs, when you read the table well and avoid getting caught up in silly action, when you do everything by the book to a tee – and still wind up getting your ass kicked? Well, two things.
An old friend of mine from the hood recently got out of jail. He had done a chunk of time for repeat DUI charges. On his last bourbon binge he wrapped his Buick (nice big silver car that was) around a telephone pole, not before endangering the lives of an entire retirement community. He had driven by mistake into the compound, couldn’t get out, and that’s when all hell broke loose.
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