Moaned it in.
Somehow turned my £2k~ losing month into a £250 winning month. I'm aware there are still four working days left, and this is certainly a good way of going about bokking myself, but news like this needed to be shared amongst my "audience."
The oddest thing is that I wasn't even going to play this month, but I got a phone call part way through an early evening nap asking if I wanted a seat locking in the cash game at Alea. My subconscious snap replied "yes," before the rest of me even realised where I was. As I peeled the glue off my eyes, I decided it wasn't such a terrible idea; although my confidence has taken a battering lately, I know it's still an easy game. "Maybe I'll flop a set and hold," I said to myself. Laughter truly is the best medicine, and that was all the encouragement I needed.
The very first hand I peeled back was
. I mentally rubbed my hands together and opened the pot. Five callers.
. Oh happy day, maybe I'm about to win a pot. Just to feel those shiny trinkets, pulling them towards me, stacking them into a monument of my success. Some fishbowl open shoves 2x the pot from the blinds. Here it comes. Closing the action. Yes. Yes, I call! But what's this? He's flatted with two aces from the small blind in a six way pot?! Now he's telling me he hates aces?! Maybe as punishment I'll flop a set of deuces an orbit later and stack him and Jimmy. Yeah, that ought to do it.
With four of us winning at least a buyin, and the game clearly on it's last legs, it was time to whip out the props. We tried to explain the 'one card one colour' game to Reflex, but alas his cries of "explain that again" bore too much for Tim Chung, and we just played suits for £5/£10/£25 (two flop cards/three flop cards/all five cards.) After Tim flopped three diamonds, and turned another in the first hand of the props, it looked like he was going to kill the game. Fortunately the river came a spade and we all lived to see another hand. After that, there was no stopping the spades! £155 real cash + £85 in props, and after starting off in the hole for £110 or so. I had finally troughed so deep that September daren't follow. That's what good dejection can do, ladies and gentlemen.
For the last couple of sessions, I haven't really played any hands that warrant discussion. I was allowed to run the table over, and I was never in a spot where I was unsure of what to do. "Hmm, should I value bet three queens on an otherwise dry board versus this absolute station?" "Should I fold J2o after the nit cold 4bets pre?" May poker forever be this easy. And may I forever run this good at props.
Off to Alea tonight for the comp and no doubt some cash. I imagine September will be pissed at me for humiliating it over the last week, so expect more Chronicles from a Sulking Cynic. Peace & sushi.
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