Foolin'

Fa...Fa...Fa...Foooooooooolin'

Now, we're talking. I lost the Def Leppard vibe about 1985, or before Rick Allen lost his arm (Hell? Party of Joe? Your shuttle is ready). But High 'n' Dry and Photograph were both in steady rotation in my 14 lb. Sony Walkman. I had a regular Saturday afternoon baby-sitting gig my sophomore year in high school at a house without fucking cable and "Photograph" is the only thing that got me through. I never did own any Union Jack apparel, however.

***************************

I played the $20 MTT on Stars last night. It was a bad idea.

This one time (at gambling camp), I won $1200 at a craps table in roughly 45 minutes. This elderly gentleman was hitting points like crazy, I'd pressed my bets the entire time, even some -EV hard ways were coming in. It was rapturous.

Hard to have a down side to such a rush, but it came later. Basically, I had no desire to gamble the rest of my weekend. Because every time I sat down at a table, or wrapped my hand around the dice, I was going for that earlier feeling, that adrenaline high. Obviously, I wasn't going to get it.

That's how I felt in the tourney last night. I wasn't "involved." I wasn't committed to playing. I just signed up because it's what I generally do. Within 15 minutes, I was completely disinterested. Not exactly the right frame of mind for solid poker.

Aside from the intensity of the blogger satellites, there was the familiarity of the players, the witty banter. All these things make it so damn fun to play. I was missing that last night, the buzz.

So I played predictably shitty. And the hand I went out on was one that I played so poorly on all streets that I may have subconsciously just dumped it. Bad me.

My cure for this, as well as a necessary exercise, is to hit up one of our local card barns for a live tourney this weekend. I really need to have at least one under my belt before the WSOP. I'm thinking two or three will be even better. We'll see how it goes. Thanks to Der Kaiser for giving me the skinny.

*******************************

My knuckle isn't broken. Swelling way down, range of movement returning. But it's odd that Bob, Russell and I are all sporting hand injuries. Feeling okay, Pirate? Bob suggested we call get casts to wear at the Final Table for the TV/sympathy effect.

Which is funny, because the last time I was on TV, I had a broken bone in my wrist and was wearing a cast. If any of you are serial watchers of the Game Show Network, you may have seen me in the last couple weeks. I was on "Greed" back in 2000 and the show gets re-run about every six months, including recently.

I only won $6000, because our asshole captain didn't know his Pepperidge Farm cookies. I did oust a guy on the Terminator, however.

*****************************

Have I mentioned lately that Vegas is coming up? I keep forgetting about for...oh...15 seconds before it slams back into my head like a freight train. Just my usual trips to Vegas are events for me. But this...this is just so overwhelming. In the best possible way.

Move time! Move!