A Very Good Place To Start

I sat down with 48K in chips (of 1.7M in play), drew the ace of spades for the button, got dealt KQo on the very first hand, shoved all-in when it was folded to me, and woke up a few hours later with a statue of a guy on a horse. Not sure how that got there. I kid, I kid. But it's still hard to know exactly what happened. The early stages of the tournament were glacial, with actual poker being played. Last night was a frenetic bloodbath. I can remember a few details of how I got to the final table, and I'll spit those out presently, but ultimately it seemed like the opening of Saving Private Me: the ramp came down, people started dropping like flies, and I mostly survived by keeping my head down and making mad dashes for cover whenever the opportunity presented itself. I think there's something that happens to the brain under such circumstances. There's an incredible amount of processsing going on, a lot of data points to consider, and so a lot of detail gets evaluated and factored in without actually being remembered. I knew exactly where everyone's chip stacks were at all times - every. single. hand. - but I couldn't tell you now who was a shortstack when someone made what move. The action was moving fast and I couldn't use my phone to take notes at the table so my recollection of events may be a little faulty. I'll begin with as accurate a recap of the action as I can recall, which will probably take a day or so to put together. Watch this space. Also I might go out to Commerce and play in a couple of satellites. I dunno. Somebody told me the tourneys at Commerce are really soft. Also I have a message for someone, on a subject about which I have so far remained mute. To whichever fucktard it was who stole my iPod when we were down to six tables or so (and yes, this happened the first night of play - it was unattended for about three minutes, in a bag strapped across the back of my chair in a roped-off area, in direct view of a security guard): Congratulations. You lifted a three-year-old iPod that's on its last legs anyway. You won't like the music that's on it right now. It didn't put me on tilt, it didn't get me to take my eyes off the prize. I didn't waste a second of my time thinking about it when I was playing. I don't know who you are and I don't care, and here's why: I know I beat you. Now I have an excuse to buy a new one. Black. Shiny. In a badass rubberized bulletproof skin. The kind that says I'm not scared money. Which, it turns out, I'm not.


Blogger TripJax said...

23rd place in Player of the Year standings. Just stop and think about that for a minute. That's pretty f'ing cool.

1/21/2006 03:37:00 PM  
Blogger Matches Malone said...

Impressive. Congrats!!! Maybe I'll see you at a satellite one day....

1/21/2006 04:44:00 PM  
Blogger Joaquin "The Rooster" Ochoa said...

Play on playa...buy the dope shit ipod and take a picture of the player of the year standing and show it to the person next to you when you sit at the table...say it without sounding like a jerk..haha! Look! I'm 26 in the player of the year points chase....where are you?

1/21/2006 05:23:00 PM  
Blogger StudioGlyphic said...

Nice post, champ.

1/21/2006 11:10:00 PM  

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