My week of poker destruction

When Angel visited tantrum:

Hi it is Sunday after all so why not reflect on my week of poker game.

Played the few tourneys in which I fell out with the Poker Gods
My arrogance took better of me
the belief in my holdings clouded the ability to reason.

JJ dealt to me on BB,

A maniac raises a pot from E.P, I call, the flop 33x I
go all in, he calls and shows 83o, hits the full house
just to rub it more salt into my wounds.

In retrospective I should have folded
re-raise pre-flop
or whatever and move on,
but I liked those two jacks; they were handsome and young, fell in love with them, well my pocket and heart are broken.

‘Bad players do this. They match their hands against a hypothetical list of the kind of hands that should win, instead of looking at the actual realities of this situation in front of them. This is simply a form of victim thinking’. (Tao of poker)

So here I am
cold shower to wake me up
but little voice still keeps saying:
Hey you liked this hand, he was a maniac but would not play 83o.
Deep down I know that this is just a beginning of my tragic love affair with PP but my heart decides to rule my head.

I am holding QQ, it is re-raised to me;
the ladies are charming,
I have a faith in them; or rather blinded by their beauty I refuse to believe that they can betray me;
my instinct says FOLD, my heart refuses to dump those two beauties.
Well they were beautiful until I saw big roaring plane with American Airlines logo landing on the green felt.

What about playing for an hour or so and getting only
jack shits? Suddenly QKs arrives to my doorstep, from UTG I can raise and everybody will fold no doubt. The heavens responded to my prayers! Not. The thunderstorm is on its away, followed by earthquake, the result a complete devastation of my chip stake and pride.

Ah then there is a jealousy
I am trying to play my best game,
few bluffs, few steals and good hands,
but my chips are stuck to the table, no more no less, some even go to town and leave me, but everybody around me have a ball, they get richer and richer, they hit
their flops with Ax, Jx, 83 and whatever, so then I
think maybe those poker theorists were wrong after
all, I just need a bit of luck, so will play and win with my jack shits. The trouble of course is I never do.

I know what it is, my name is discriminated by the
Server. Oh well I shall maybe change it into
tantrumlooser and hope for a sympathy vote.

But then when I hit rock bottom so hard that my ass is
hurting, I see a ray of light, the heaven’s door is
open, a beautiful Angel descends to my room. The help
has arrived!!! Miracles do happen.

I tell the angel to deal me the cards, to fix all the
flops and turns and rivers, I ask him to lead me
through the poker maze.

The angel says nothing, but smile to or at me, he
takes my hand and invites me to follow him. I am in a
dark tunnel, at the end I see a strong light, I hear a
whisper, close my eyes and trust the angel, I hear the
harps, I feel so happy; I will be a winner.

Suddenly all stops, I can feel I am in the room, I
open my eyes, it is very dark, and the angel has
disappeared, but WHAT THE @#%%!!!!!

The room is filled with books, poker books, math
books, psychology books, computer simulators, cards
and chips; no one is to been seen,

I look around and see - blinking lights, and slowly a bit of writing appears on the wall…

It takes a while before I can make any sense of the sentence, which reads:

GO BACK TO WORK LAZYTANTRUM, MIRACLES DO NOT HAPPEN,

ANGEL