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June 12, 2003 - Thursday

 Hold ’em

Speaking of playing poker… I played in two tournaments in the past two days, both No Limit Hold ’em. I think that’s my favorite variation on poker: Hold ’em is my favorite game, No Limit is my favorite way to play it. It’s not really much of a money game, though. I mean, I’m not rich, you know? I can’t afford to play no limit for cash — the first thousandaire I sit down with is going to eat my lunch simply because I can’t match his stack. So tournaments are the only place it’s safe to play it.

I was doing pretty well in last night’s tournament. We started with something like 19 tables (171 people), and we were down to four tables (36 people) when I got knocked out. If I’d held on ’til the final two tables I would have at least made a hundred bucks or so. But nooooo, I had to bet about 80% of my stack on a flush draw that never came and lost to a pair of queens. I was so short-stacked then that I couldn’t play effectively and I was out of the tourney about 20 minutes later. That’ll teach me to put my whole stack up on a drawing hand, won’t it?

Or maybe not. In tonight’s tourney we were down to five tables from 11 when I went all-in on an open-ended straight against two pair and missed. I was kicking myself all the way out of the club. Un-freakin-believable. You don’t bet your whole stack on something like that, at least not before the final table. Well, you don’t. But I do, apparently. Moron.

Star sighting, by the way. Joshua Malina was playing in tonight’s tournament. But don’t get excited, we were never seated at the same table. I outlasted him, though. He got knocked out about 20 minutes before I did.


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 It’s Alive!!! (Maybe)

I cruised by the site of this morning’s Squirrel Squishing on my way to play poker tonight. There’s no sign of the little guy, not even a greasy spot. Not (pardon the pun) hide nor hair of him.

Now I’ll always wonder: Did someone scrape him up? Did a crow make off with his remains? Or did I not kill him after all? Maybe he was just stunned and shook it off and went back home for a nap.

I like that idea, I think I’ll stick with it. I’ll picture him growing old and scaring his grandkids with stories about “the time a motorcycle came thisclose to running me down.”


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