Red Dawn

I'm still reeling from Vegas. I haven't had more than four hours sleep per night since I returned and, oddly, only one can be attributed to a poker bender. Saturday night, I stayed up until 4:30 a.m. to watch Liverpool dominate Sao Paolo for 85 of the 90 minutes, only to lose 1-0 in the FIFA World Club Championship. It was a travesty. The Reds had 3 goals pulled back, two of which were definitely in the "dicey" range. They had 17 corners to the Brazilians' zero. My frustration kept me awake another hour after the final whistle.

Friday night, Daddy and I united our respective drunks and took some cash to a 3/6 6-max table in the wee hours. Good Lord. Those tables are where brain cells go to die, which put us in unique postion to exploit our opponents. We chatted the entire time, trying to tilt the revolving door of donkeys. I don't know if it worked, but after we adapted to the nature of play, we ended up not losing (I ended up $3; Daddy about $25). I was stuck $85 at one point, mainly because I flopped top two with ATo and gave a bunch of chips away to a flopped set of 9s. First time that particular jackass had a hand all night. Within twenty minutes, I had gotten it all back from said jackass. I had the bright idea that playing those tables might assist with some holes in my tournament game, namely the occassional lack of aggression and post-flop play against random hands. Don't know if it translates, but there certainly is an adapatability factor that can't hurt. And I think if I can stay on my game through the swings, I can profit at that level. At the very least, it's something different and a good way to keep my (neglected) limit game somewhat respectable.

In the serendipity arena, Daddy recommended a book, which I purchased while Christmas shopping on Saturday. I cracked it yesterday and made it as far as page three before I had to put it down. It's the weirdest thing.

It's a curious reflection: What are most people afraid of? Of doing something new, saying a new word of their own that hasn't been said before--that's what sccares them the most. But I'm rambling. That's why I never do anything--because I ramble on to myself like that. Or perhaps it's the other way round; I ramble because I never do anything.

If you've read my latest story in Truckin', you'll notice the above thoughts are eerily synched up with the narrator. The Truckin' story is a psuedo excerpt from the novel I'm writing. It's the same narrator, though that episode doesn't occur, and I initially wrote the story to try to get in touch with the character before beginning the novel. I was not sure I'd REALLY gotten in touch with him yet. Until I read the above.

So, I've only finished 3 pages of the book Daddy recommended, but I wrote like ten of my own. And that's partly why I was up late last night. That and laundering underwear.

More trip report? I know they're around here somewhere. Just can't seem to channel them.

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Finally got into the Christmas spirit this weekend. Shopping for four-year-olds will do it every time. I can channel my inner kid pretty easily and made several impulse buys, a couple of which made the dear and patient wife roll her eyes. She and I also got an early gift from my forgetful mother who bought PSPs for my two teen-aged nephews. Of course, she did the same thing last year. I suggested she get them new laptops instead, since I'll be due for an upgrade in a year's time.

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The LA Poker Classic at Commerce Casino is a little over a month away. I'm definitely gonna play a preliminary event and, if I can grab another big tourney cash (or six) in the next couple months, I'll play some super sats for the Main Event. The cash games promise to be juicy as well. They were last year. And I suspect Murderer's Row will be out in force.

Book your tickets now.