I think its Dostoevsy who said, "Every happy family is the same. Unhappy families are each unhappy in a different way". That's not an exact quote, but I don't expect most people will notice. Most people don't read Dostoevsky, that Fyodor's a downer.
Writers love losers but your average fella doesn't. "Jose Canseco the MVP" is a man about town. "Jose the Doper" is under house arrest. We all have our moments of defeat and loss, but no matter how much your friends love you, they really don't want anything more than a gossipy thrill, and a shadenfruede buzz. Everyone has a bad beat story. We want to hear your big suckout win.
I played in a 50+5 tournament in the swanky clubhouse of a local subdivision. BadBlood let me tag along. The tournament director was a very large man in a cheap T-shirt. It bore the lovers cards with the words "No Limit : All In!". It should have come with gills.
I'd played with some of these guys before and I thought I had a shot. But the setup was sloppy and new players kept drifting in well past the 7:30 start time. By the time we kicked off we had 50 players on 6 tables and I was half pissed about the game.
Midway through level four, I'd only played a few hands, I found the suited hammer on the button. UTG pushed his timy stack all-in an barely matched the blinds. UTG +1 and the man to my right both called. I bet the pot. Everyone calls.
The flop : 6, 9, Q....of hearts. I had the baby flush. Checks around to me. I bet the pot again. UTG+1 calls. Guy to my right pushed all-in to call. Obviously I'm beat.
The turn is a rag and the opponent who still has chips just checks. I push all-in. He calls. Now I'm beat for sure. The river..another brick. And 4 players are all in.
Early small stack shows a pair of 7s. UTG +1 shows A, Q spades. Yup, that's Ace high. Guy to my right just mucks. And, lo, the suited hammer eliminates 3 players on a single hand. G-Rob is triple the average stack and headed to the final table.
At the final table Dr. T-shirt takes control. 10 players remain and the average stack is 4,500. I have 5,400. Good shape you say? You'd say wrong. The blinds are leaping every 15 minutes and they're already at 1000/2000 with a 100 ante. We high card for the button and I'm the big blind. 3 hands later, I push with pcket 4s and the tournament is over. C'est la vie.
Three players played that hammer flop poorly. They had nothing and let my train roll into the calling station of victory. Screw 'em I say. Stupid losers.
But we all lose sometimes
And that's the rub. (We read Hamlet because our teacher's made us) I'm on a miserable tear of losing. My cards have run dry and the bankroll is sorry. My UB account is down 75% this month and after a few sessions of O8 on Party, I think I may need an e-bay auction to fund my jones.
There's more, of course, in the big picture. Perhaps you read my long-winded whine below about the misfortune at work. God know my friends are sick of hearing about it. I dare say you're sick of it too. Nobody likes a loser. Lately my friends are avoiding my calls for fear of another bath in self pity. My wife would rather talk about the Oscars. My co-workers think I'm pathetic.
There are dozens of posts that could sound like this, hundreds of losses that we could add to our blog, but nobody likes a bad beat story. This is what depression is. Everyone has a bad day but the isolation of loss is a black hole of doom. The gravity will crush you if you don't pull free.
So, here's the pledge : No more posts from G-Rob until the stars come out again. You don't want to hear it and, frankly, writing about my bad play and my crappy situation is making things worse. I'll let you know when the skies clear.
I'll leave you to Otis and CJ.
Good luck at the tables.