Day 60: It's Official...

...I hate tournaments.

Once again, I play a great game and get crushed. I went from chip leader in this installment of our WSOP series to out in about five hands. The first three were horrible beats, brilliant calls on my part where I turned out to be 85% or better to win. I watched in horrified disbelief/resignation (yes, it's possible to harbor those two emotions simultaneously) while my opponents got their godforsaken miracle cards. The last two were just me pushing with a naked Ace and not even a blind's worth of chips. It was a massacre.

The biggest leak in my game is that I seem to be incapable of stopping my opponents from outdrawing me, and conversely I'm no good at sucking out myself.

So, naturally, in my state of high dudgeon, I betook myself to a small-stakes cash game. (Did I say small stakes? Hah. Silly $.25/$.50 game that plays more like $1/$2. We must have had at least half a dozen pots of more than $100, and most pots were around $30.)

I walked in the door tilted.

I walked out $150 to the good, which was some balm to my bruised spirit. I also laughed a lot at the game, which is hosted by previously mentioned birthday-boy BK, who is one of the funniest people I know. Fortunately, it's hard to stay tilted when you're laughing your ass off.

A person who can still crack me up when the sun is rising and birds are tweeting is a rare treasure. The poker-playing is just a bonus.