Nothing to See Here

The Zen of Poker dictates how best to respond after a bad beat.  Calmness, evenness, remain focused, etc., etc., blah, blah, blah.

I say “Fuck it.”

Yesterday I let it out.  Nobody was upstairs and after what seemed like the 80th consecutive 5 outer hit, I said a big hearty “Fuck you” to poker.  Yeah that’s right, I reacted “wrong.”  I correctly stopped playing, but I went on a rant.  It was a Matusow-like rant, driven by the martyrdom of playing well but losing.  Perhaps it’s a sign of insanity that I was talking to myself.  But at least I listen.

Inside I’m battling a loss of confidence combined with not winning against a diminishing belief that I’m playing well.  I suppose I should comfort myself that I’m not losing either.  But when your bankroll is stagnant for a couple of weeks, it does make you question why you even play.  I feel I can justify my time playing when I’m winning.  But when I’m not winning, my justification loses some credibility.

I don’t even want my share of good luck.  I want normal luck.  I want expected value to mature into actual value.  I want to neither deposit nor withdraw from the equity bank.

Statistically, the long-term in poker is measured in years.  To lament a six-week aberration is foolish, but here I am doing it.  And you all continue to listen, which frankly, must be getting tiring.  Sorry.

Done.  I promise.

****

So with that, on to more exciting things.  The winner of Event #1 of the BBSOP is hosting a tournament up in Charlotte the weekend of February 24th.  Fortuitously, In Flames is playing in Charlotte on the Friday before.

Just like Mr. Pibbs + Red Vines = Crazy Delicious, Poker + Metal = BadBlood Heaven.  I told’ja that I’m crazy for that Swedish Melodic Death Metal cousin!

I’m trying to make arrangements to secure my attendance.