I just got booted from an SNG on like the 4th hand. I have QQ in the big blind, I re-raise when the button raises. Flop comes 8-7-3 with two diamonds. I bet, get raised, and I go all-in. This is the new Mean Gene, no more fear. If he has aces or kings, then I’m beat.

He turns over A-2. Only one diamond. In other words, he has ace-high, with no kicker, and he’s calling my all-in raise. He needs to go runner-runner for a wheel or a flush. Of course two diamonds pop up and I’m out. “Sorry”, the guy types. Yep, that pretty much describes the state of your game.

But did I rave? Did I rant? No. Why am I so cool, calm, and collected?

I hear there’s some shindig planned for next month. Vegas. Bunch of bloggers, playin’ a little poker, drinkin’ everything not behind the walls of Hoover Dam.

I am IN.

Have to finalize what day we’re going out, and I say “we” because my brother will probably be accompaning me. But probably tomorrow we’ll get those details resolved and set our itinerary. Ryan is more a Stud Hi-Lo player–yeah, one of those. But with his borderline alcoholism he’ll fit right in.

Oh, yeah, baby. Vegas.

UPDATE: OK, now I’m pissed. I play another SNG, guy to my left goes all-in the first two hands after the flop. Next hand I’m dealt AJ suited, he raises, me and 2 others call. Flop comes jack-high. He bets, everyone folds, The New Mean Gene goes all-in. He calls, and turns over pocket queens. Shit. I get queens and get sucked out by a maniac, and then a maniac wakes up with queens.

OK, deep breaths. Focus on Vegas. Focus on the oxygenated air. Think about the cocktail waitresses…ahh…that’s better. Much better.

No more poker for me tonight. I know when the planets are misaligned. Tho I did do well in my family poker game today. Maybe more on that tomorrow.

Permanent link to this post.