Previously on THE SUMMER HEATER COOLER THAT ENDED WELL PART 1…on the very first hand of Day 2 of the Summer Heater at Borgata, I get dealt pocket ACES, and then get them…
After I pick my eyes up from the table, I walk out of the poker room and pace aimlessly. I’m in a poker haze — dazed and confused, looking like a child who had lost her Mom and Dad at the mall…
To remedy the situation, I figure I need to talk to someone outside of my head so I call my wife, Myra, to go thru my grieving process in this moment of poker loss. My conversation with her is more of an unleashing, a tangential rant where I lay out…THE 5 PHASES OF BAD BEATDOM:
- DENIAL…see picture above
- ANGER — ME (on the phone): what are the (insert expletive here) chances that I (insert expletive here) get (insert expletive here) pocket aces on the (insert expletive here) 1st hand of a big (insert expletive here) tournament like this?? (Insert expletive here)…why did this (insert expletive here) happen to me!?!?!
- BARGAINING — ME (on the phone): but if I had played the hand this way I’d still be IN… I was in 80th place out of 229 people coming into Day 2, winning that hand would’ve catapulted me to the top of the leaderboard! BUT, BUT, BUT…
- DEPRESSION – Silence, then I spiral into a vortex of tears…more crying.
- ACCEPTANCE – One of my poker mentors, Natasha Barbour, had told me “you can’t be results driven,” but I CAN be ANGER DRIVEN! So insert-fucking-expletive-here — I’m going back in there to play another tourney!!!
Snowflakes, ice, and Elsa fill my head as I hang up with my wife and beeline my un-bad beatable poker ninja ass back to the cashier. En route I run into a floor person and the Frozen song is substituted by doubts and fears.
I have diarrhea of the mouth as I spew out my concerns about the tournament – it’s already 90 minutes in, I’d have less chips, the levels are only 15 minutes long, I just got knocked out of the Summer Heater with Aces in the very first hand, and is this tilt reflex??
She looks at me unfazed, like she’s heard it all before, and solemnly says, “maybe you shouldn’t register then…” and pivots and walks away. Did she just…reverse-Jedi-mind trick me?!? I felt the Star Wars theme coming on…
Next thing you know – BAM!! 180 clams later, I’m at the table channeling all of my frustrations and anger into that 2nd tourney.
With blinds at 150/300 and a field of 150+ I play like Rambo…using my chips like they were a giant knife…carving up my victims and gutting them until they bled chips my way. It was a game of my own vengeance.
Miraculously, I rocked that shit to the end and shipped it for $2300!! It wasn’t the cash I had wanted, but the proof I needed to keep going…
Pug with Eyes Popped Out
Frozen, Let it Go
Natasha Barbour, Poker Coach