I went to my bank today, with the £7.20 I had scrounged, and deposited it in my bank. On the way home I bought a chicken pasty, with the promise to myself that I’d hit the gym again in a couple of days, can’t be slacking. Once at home I immediately opened up my laptop, and was straight onto PokerStars and slamming in that $15 faster than my mum could ask for a cup of tea.
I decided on one game at a time, $5. Double or nothing games are the best to make money on, there’s less risk, you can sit back, chill out, have a drink and watch the carnage unfold. Of course, this is unless you get involved. First hand; KK, second hand; crap, third hand; crap, fourth hand; AA. Game on. I raise a little, enough to scare off the mavericks with the 98 of hearts which can flop out to knock you out in the same way a hired assassin can choke on a cheeseburger. It’s humiliating. Anyway: The hand. I had two biters, and a king flopped out, two low cards, good. I raise 500 (we start on 1500) and we have a fold and an all-in. He has a king. I double up, job done. So I sit out, and make that cup of tea.
I return to Kings again, poor position, a mild raise and a call of the subsequent re-raise leave me in a showdown with a player wielding pocket fours. It’s sods law, but he hits the 4, I am now back to 1500 chips.
More pocket Kings, I re-raise, another heads up: Ace Queen. Shit. Well I’m ok as long as the ace doesn’t hit. In the middle of thinking that the Ace flops out, I’m wounded, the King has been shot. Game over. A fast end.
I run things over in my head about my game-play – don’t get involved, steal the blinds, try not to go heads up, that way luck lies. The easiest way to win in a double or nothing is to do nothing, just watch, live in the shadows, hide from bullets and wait for the pocket rockets.
This logic does not help me in the second game, I’m tilting, and there’s the constant reminder that I have $5 left if I lose. Well, I do lose, quite quickly, 8th; disgraceful.
I decide to wait a little while, calm down, cool off, throw some potatoes in the oven, read some Vicky Coren and relate her early days to my current days, the playing with money you don’t have. Not the roulette though, I hate roulette.
Ever since I went into the bookies and there was a roulette machine which had had the last 9 outs as black, and I put £10 on red, and it hit black, and then £5 on red, and it hit black, and a pound on red, and it hit black, I have hated roulette, there’s too much luck, and if there isn’t luck to screw you over, you have the pre-programmed machines which pay out in the same way the slot-machines do.
Anyway, I enter my potentially last game until I get any more money. It could be tomorrow, I don’t fancy waiting that long; I love poker, it’s too long to wait. I do okay, a little over the start chips, then I get caught with QK of diamonds and two diamonds on the flop, fishing. I’m reduced to 560 chips. Fuck. The pressure sets in.
I claw a little back and lose a little more and end up on 500 chips. One more person needs to go out and everyone else is on 2000 chips and I resign myself to the 72 unsuited hands until I’m blinded out. And then the two chip-leaders unleash hell, I’m rooting for the bigger stack, if he doesn’t win, the other guy’s still on 1100 chips.
Miracles happen, I win, and I’m back up to $10.
It’s going to be a long day.
Another $5 game, I’m unfocused, I half my chips with nothing, then go on to half that with Pocket Fives and a low flop. It’s looking quite grim. 350 chips is a bit of a hill to climb. Fuck that, it’s a mountain, but at least the blinds are low. I get dealt pocket 8’s, my steak churns within me as my feeble all-in is called. My 88 versus his 9K, I’m worried. Flop: K 9 10. Well, thank you PokerStars, I really hate you- an 8 on the turn. I love you PokerStars, thank you. I’m back up to 700 chips. Wahoo, halfway up the mountain, there are discarded animal bones up here, I hope they’re animals. My book keeps me calm, I will have $4 if I lose, that’s not too bad, can come back from that.
JK suited – all in, pot stolen, kapow.
AK unsuited – all in, called, beats A10 with the flop 10 K 6 then a 6, then a 9. Job done: 2000 chips. I folded pocket 9s when the guy in front of me went all in, no point in risk. Then failed to steal with 10 A, the other guy raising minimum raise when a K rears its ugly head. My three bet (three times what he’d bet) caused a fold and I’m chipleader. This game is looking much better, I might even pull out the cigars, some bourbon. No. Focus.
I like playing with the TV on, it means I don’t get too focused on the game, meaning I play less hands. I don’t, however like having mundane conversations while I’m trying to think, but I don’t mind them, as I love my parents, and they are amazing for all the things they do for me.
Oh, while I was typing I had a fight with a guy with slightly less chips than me, I’m down to 1400 chips, my AQ suited did not hit. Never fight the big stacks.
Somebody just finished 7th, one more to go. Carnage. I love it.
I hate carnage. My pocket 10s just got annihilated by pocket 3s because he hit a straight. $4. It’s not promising. I hate you PokerStars.
It’s gone, all of it, got slaughtered on a table. Tomorrow I hope to find my security deposit in my bank account, so I can take £20 of it and convert it into dollars and seek to claim my fortune. For now I’ll just have to be happy with my book. I love Vicky Coren, I can relate.
JW
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