My right ankle is killing me. It looks like I'm smuggling an orange in my sock which, along with the banana in my pants, is halfway to cure for scurvy. The worst part of the injury, of course, is the way it happened.
As I pulled myself up from the mud in Uncle Ted's front yard, I looked up at Otis who kept muttering to himself, "My God, I'm happy right now!"
In my last 2 poker games, I've lost 2 large all-in pots to one outers. It's been that kind of week. The sick thing about poker variance is it's statistical dispersion. If I stand to win a pot 80% of the time, I'd prefer 4 wins and a loss... followed by another 4 wins.
Of course, because poker is a dirty whore without the basic decency to bathe between screws, it's more likely that you're win 3, lose 3, then win 11, then lose 5.
I hate losing 5 times.
I honestly think the real mark of great poker player is the ability to survive the bad weeks... or months.
Lately, I've been so frustrated as to take apart my game, from square one, and try and piece it back together.
It hasn't been easy.
Still, I think even the worst player can win... even win over a relatively extended period of time. The question is, can you minimize your losses when the cards turn mean?
MY PLANS IN 2007
Wanna play with G-Rob? Here's your chance.
I'm booked at the Grand Casino in Tunica in January. The 18th through the 21st.
I'm meeting some good blogger friends. Really good blogger friends.
Drop me a line.
Is it just me, or did the Bengals just say "To Hell with this!" and quit tonight? Bastards!
About the ankle:
After 6 or 7 solid years of hilarious "Otis Falls" jokes, I fell.
It was, as I'm sure Otis will tell you, pathetic.
I picked myself up quickly.
Now, just like I need to rethink my poker game, I need a new Otis jibe.
ONE MORE THING
I accidentally watched THIS just now, thinking it was titled "Chilli and G-Rob."