A crushing defeat

I crush your hand

This Jonathon Duhamel fella who's just gone and won the WSOP main event, he's a funny old fella isn't he? I mean all those silly Canadians in Quebec who think they're French are funny, but this dude especially so.

He reminds me of the "crush your head" guy from The Kids in the Hall only slightly more weird. So anyway have you seen it yet? I've spoiled it for you anyway if you haven't. This whole A-7 6-bet shove business..I've run the numbers through my computron and the lab boys have analysed the data and the conclusions are that he shouldn't have done it.

These t'internet whipper-snappers just can't wait to get up in the morning to 6-bet someone. Calm down that's why I always say. The boy Cheong was the best player at that table, but he's gone and ruined his chances of poker immortality by being unable to not 6-bet a French Canadian.

There's a lesson in this for all of us; When you're up against a French Canadian Peachy, if at first you don't succeed, by all means try again, but then fold...fold like young Ochi Kasinowi, reigning professional origami champion 2010 and three time winner of the Japanese envelope filling championships. And of course, this applies to all walks of life, not just poker..I'm just not sure how.

Aaaaargh raise you, you Mercan pig dog

Awwww pwetty

November rain

It's cold, it's wet, it's November so that must mean I'm due to come over all wheezy and so it has come to pass.

Unfortunately I landed myself in the big house this morning as rather poor occurrences occurred chestually. If I was a contestant on the Apprentice I'd describe my situation as a severe downturn in breathing potential dis-enabling proactive pulmonary oxygen deliverables throughout the cardio-vascular vortals.

In real terms I might piss myself if I cough too hard. This will of course require a couple of weeks of complete rest and relaxation, distinguishable from any other two weeks of my life by the fact that I will have to get up in the mornings, briefly.

I knew I was in for some choppy waters on Saturday at Dusk Till Dawn when the fella two seats to my left announced he had a shocking chest infection. Awesome I thought, 500 people in the building and I have to sit with the one most likely to stir my under-gunge into life and mess me up.

Still, you've got to laugh. The plan is to be in tip top condition just in time to claim my rightful place as European Amateur Poker champion at the end of the month. In the meantime I plan to eat a lot of casseroles.

There may not be too much going on with the blog however, as nothing blogable is likely to occur while I convalesce. I may make some stuff up though if I get bored. Well, chin chin.

Eeek..did someone say chest infection!? Me, looking concerned on Saturday

Weekend plans

I shouldn't think I'll go out this weekend. I've looked outside and it appears to be a bit chilly.

I had considered going to DTD as I am want to do at this time of the month but no, I think I'll stay home and put my feet up or possibly de-box a challenging jigsaw.

Yes that's the ticket; a lovely cup of tea a hot buttered crumpet and a 1000 piece jigsaw of a silly puppy tangled up in a ball of wool or something.

Quixotic pokering

The poker Gods are testing me again. They read my blog entry about standardisation in poker and now they're testing my faith. They're pushing me and I don't like to be pushed.

I explained how I frown upon a lack of imagination and auto-pilot poker and suddenly I find myself at the tables with poker's equivalent of Don Quixote and Captain Chaos.

Now I love the Don Quixotes of this world. I'm all for anyone willing to go toe to toe with a windmill, either literally or metaphorically. The world would be a very dull place indeed without such optimism and lunacy, I just don't want to meet them at the poker tables.

There is of course a fine line between a quixotic approach to the pokers - which perhaps might see one optimistically chasing flushes and other drawing hands - and just a chaotic punting nonsense where folding is only an option when the big hand of ones watch is pointing to an even number and raises are made purely because it sort of seems like the thing to do.

How do we combat such a style? How how? The truth is we can't really. Don Quixote's friends burnt his books and bricked up his library - what's the poker equivalent? Shoving all your stack in and making those draws pay hoping he'll see sense? Even if he does, you've still got Captain Chaos to get through who might call you just because his food is ready and he wants to eat it in peace.

He might call because he has the Ace of spades and it's lucky for him. He'll limp/fold his Ace-Queen to a short stack shove and the very next hand with Ace-ten he'll call your shove even though it's the first hand you've played since the break three hours ago and it's 75% of his stack. And he'll have no explanation for you why he chose to play his brace of Aces that way round.

No, he'll just look at you with glazed eyes and chuckle while raking in the chips with his enormous hands with dirty finger nails, which he'll donk off to all and sundry over the next twenty minutes impervious to your frustrations from sitting their patiently mucking 8-3's for hours in the hope of being dealt two cards which add up to more than 15 before it's too late and busting when one finally arrives.

Meanwhile the Gods keep on pushing you, poking you, prodding you. Testing your faith. Now I know how Job must have felt. I shan't be surprised if I wake up tomorrow covered in boils.