Poker stories are boring. They are all the fricking same. Every time I sit down at a table in Vegas, or Atlantic City, or a home game in New York, I hear the same goddamn stories over and over again. People, there just aren’t that many different ways to get bad beat. There just aren’t that many exciting drawouts.
You know what else isn’t entertaining anymore? Mronos analyzing hands in the online chat box on [insert poker site here] dot net. No, you were *not* getting two to one on your money. No, putting all your chips in on a draw, hitting it, and taking down a huge pot does *not* mean you put the other player in his/her place and that you are a poker genius/god/professional. No, I will *not* transfer a dollar into your account.
In short, I still enjoy playing poker and taking money from people. I enjoy pitting my intellect against others and earning a tidy profit despite the swings introduced by luck. But sometimes the day-to-day nonsense just gets to me. My next trip is going to be to FARGO to defend my heads up title. It’s not until October, but I know it will get me fired up about poker again. I may take a break between now and then to recharge my batteries. September is going to be all about starting school again, visiting parks and museums, getting away for Labor Day, writing, scrapbooking, and enjoying the company of friends and family. Dot net.