AWFUL NOISES

FALSE MAYAN APOCALYPSE COUNTDOWN  47 SUNDAYS LEFT.  Sun Jan 22, 2012

BLAM BLAM BLAM     BLAM  BLAMBLAM

They say your recall of those events is never right, the devil in the details gets lost.  Was it six shots?  Seven?  Ten?  It happened so fast.

I thought they were fireworks, but they were pretty loud and the rhythm was all wrong in those three seconds. Or was it two?  Whatever it was it sounded like a gangland hit.  Was it leftover fireworks?  Some idiots with M-80s from new years?

I try not to know people.  Maybe it's anti-social, but I prefer in poker not to get too chummy with most people.  Not to know their names.  Not that I wouldn't like to have a drink or two with some of you at the next social gathering, or maybe get really toasted enough to the point where we wind up singing old Viking war anthems and challenging the next group of guys to go outside (this never happens), but for now, the situation that we're in, with each of us trying to take each other's money, dictates that I may have to raise you and make you fold.  Or smooth call you down and make you cringe with temporary embarassment.  Or check-raise you.  Mmmmmm...my perosnal favorite...to check raise you.  Especially if it's on the river and I have absolutely nothing, but so did you. 

I think we're both more comfortable if I don't know your name is Ed...or...whatever.

We won't be cuddling, so I don't see much point to resorting to pillow talk.  "Nice hand, Ed." 

Whatever.  I don't say much.

So I guess it gets doubly awkward for me when people call me by my name and I haven't taken the time to learn theirs.  Hey, Kai, did you blah blah blah blah...?

I make up names in my head for a lot of players.  Maybe you've done the same.  A lot of them aren't flattering, but most are innocent enough.  The odds of your liking the nickname I've assigned to you?  Pretty slim.  Ruprict, Lazy-Eye, Fletch, Dorkapotamus, Slinky, Tornado Bait, Professor Puddingsworth...

But most of the time I just make up a name that someone looks like.  He looks like a Charlie.  She looks like a Gretchen.  His name's probably Whittaker.  I'm sure I've been called worse.  Much worse.

I've already put a quantitative value on their conversational input, choice of topics, degree of how easily amused they are, how they play, and/or physical attributes...and some of these criteria go into the artificial name making process.  Is it a little shallow?  Maybe.  It is kind of fun though.  Anonymity is best when blood's involved.

So this is my last shot at getting into the main event.  A mega-satellite the day before.  And a guy I've named Tugboat Charlie over the years, an older nice guy and good player, makes a raise at the 50/300/600 level.  A novice player in town for the rodeo wearing a ginormous white cowboy hat makes a meaningless call.  He's the guy who will call anything.  If he goes into the Chevy dealership and the salesman tells him that the truck costs $450,000, he won't blink for a second...he's in.  He's probably real agreeable in real life.  Let's call him Sasperilla Sam.  He just called off his entire stack with a KT a moment ago for no particular reason and rebought in for a full stack.  Of course that wasn't nearly as good as when I watched someone accidentally turn over AA after going all in, which Silverado Sam clearly saw...and called off his entire stack -- against the visible AA-- with KQ!!!  Although jaws dropped all around the table, everyone had the good sense to keep quiet.  And drool.  And wait.

I look down at QQ.  It's a little challenging to exercise control because I know Tugboat Charlie isn't raising light, and Silverado Sam isn't going anywhere, so why not just call to see a safe flop and enjoy my position?

PLAYERS WE'RE STARTING A $550 SINNNNGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM WITH DANIELLE, A $100 SINNNNGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE.  YOUR CHANCE TO GET INTO THE MAIN EVENT RIGHT HERE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM.  SINNNNGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE, PAYS TWO PLACES....

Oh, God.  Not now.  It's Ringmaster B and his full blast repetitious speech booming down in a shower of game show host madness from the speaker systems directly above our heads. 

Must focus...I'm probably going to just smooth call....that's when my peripherals kick in...

What's this?  The cool college kid two to my left is going to do something.  He is unsure of what, but he has a good hand.  His body language has gone from asleep to wide awake though he's trying to look just like he did last hand when he folded. 

Sometimes it only takes a sliver of a second to get that mini-pulse, that little vibe, that little almost imperceptible click that goes off in your brain that someone next to you has a big hand, or what exactly they have.  But when it goes off, it roars off like a canon inside your brain and your gut.

I don't know why most people play poker.  Some do it because they're degenerates, some because they love a difficult way to make easy money, some for social interaction maybe?  But for me it's all about that little micro-second of absolute clarity.  It's like heaven when you figure out something you're not supposed to know.

So I decide to just smooth call the raise with my QQ, and see what exactly College Kid, behind me, has in mind for Tugboat Charlie, Sasperilla Sam and me. College Kid takes even longer than I did to decide what to do with all those delicious pre-flop chips out there.  He wonders what took me so long...what Tugboat Charlie is raising with...none of this is an act...he really feels he needs to make a stand with this marginal power hand...but he's genuinely uncertain which course to take...it's now screaming only one of two things.  AK or JJ.

SINNNNNGGGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM WITH DANIELLE!  PAYS TWO SPOTS!  FIRST PLACE RECEIVES...

Breathe, Kai, breathe.  Focus.  Shut out the cattle auction...

So he's taking a really long time, but finally decides after almost smooth calling, and then after almost raising...to just grab all the chips and shove.  It's starting to look more and more like JJ.

Sasperilla Sam, to no one's surprise calls off his entire stack in this re-buy tournament.  Again.  His range actually includes some Tarot cards and Uno cards as well.  Anything is possible from this guy. 

So now I'm looking at a major all-in triple up if I decide to play the third best starting hand in poker -- but three way.  That's a big decision.  If they hit, I'm not in the main this month...I have to be absolutely sure this kid has JJ and not AK.

I flash back to those gunshots from earlier today.  I found out they were gunshots when I walked up my really peaceful block here where I live in South Mississippi.  Ugly scene.  Not what you want fresh in your head before a tournament.  A truck's tires have been blown out.  Body on the ground.  Cops surrounding him.  Another cop zipping around the scene spooling off  DO NOT CROSS yellow tape all around the wide block.  A cop truck zooms down my 15mph street at about 80.  VROOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!  Ten cop cars.  Fire truck.  Abulance. I'd find out it was some idiot criminal who held up a Walgreens, tried to escape and outrun the cops.  Then after the cops took out his tires, he thought running out and bringing a knife to a gunfight was the best course of action.

BLAM BLAM BLAM     BLAM  BLAMBLAM

PLAYERS WE HAVE ONE SEAT LEFT FOR THIS SINNNNNNGGGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM!  DON'T GET SHUT OUT!  IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM!  ONE LUCKY SEAT LEFT!  DON'T GET SHUT OUT!  SINNNNGGGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE ......AAAAAANNNNNNDDDDD....

Oh, God.....the carnival sledgehammer is about to slam down on that one syllable and strike the bell...

SOLD!

In my mind's eye I see Ringmaster B dropping down to the ground hard into a celebratory split and twisting his fists by each each other in a lightning-fast 70's type dancefloor victory celebration.

I love Ringmaster B.  I really do.  If he needed a kidney, I swear to God I've got two for the guy...but the microphone thing...we've talked about it...it's getting better...slowly...

Back to now. Back to reality. Focus, idiot! Focus!  The action is on you!

I've got to know if this kid has AK or JJ.  It's a life or death difference.  I mumble something to the table...I don't even remember what...it's like sending out a radar signal...trying to see what comes back.  It's almost like my eyesight shuts down in those moments and I'm relying just on radar.  People mumble some things back and there's a little chatter but I'm focused on the kid through the sides of my head.  It's weird when you try to get a read on someone's hand and it becomes like synesthesia...when someone has AK it has a certain flavor to it...an orange heaviness...a heavy hollow bell chime ring...There's a feel to certain people's hands that defies description.  JJ has a totally different...flavor.

He mumbles something and throws in his last chip which he doesn't notice which was behind his arm, makes a semi-funny comment and smiles and gives a little laugh.  But as I'm watching him, I see his smile has an unnatural ending to it...it doesn't just fade out by a slow drop...it breaks off too tensely and suddenly like the smile was a little artificially confident.  Got it.  He has Jacks.  My Zen moment of absolute clarity has arrived in that tiny fraction of a second!!!

I'm a 4:1 favorite against him!  Not a 1.2 : 1 favorite.  I'm getting well over a gigantic triple-up pot agaist him and Sasperilla Sam's random hand.  I win this one, I can navigate my way easily to the main event! Shove-all-in!

He flips over Jacks. 

Sasperilla Sam turns over a Ten......and an Ace.  2.5 : 1 favorite over this calling station to boot!

Flop:  Ace.

BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAMBLAM BLAM.

PLAYERS WE ARE STARTING A NEW SINNNNNNGGGGGGLE TABLE SATELLITE IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM WITH DEBBIE A SINNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG.....






I decide to take my kids and dog out for a walk around the neighborhood later on that day.  It's a gorgeous day and I'm ready for some normalcy.  I guess I should have focused equally on Sasperilla Sam's hand...been more precise with his holdings as well.  Should I have been more careful? Would it have mattered?  Wouldn't I have still shoved?   Time to leave tournaments behind for a few months and focus on...other things.  Today all my focus is on my kids.  Leave that crazy stuff from earlier behind me.

My kids, dog and I are loving our walk.  Suddenly a cute perfectly trimmed little white poodle sees my dog, my kids and I from across the highway and decides to jot across it and say hi...it doesn't see the car coming from behind it.  It's going to hit in half a second.  I can't stop it.  I yell at my kids to look away!  "CLOSE YOUR EYES!" I scream.  I try to throw up my arms and shield their vision.  They can't help it.  They look.  They see it.  They hear it.  I can't stop their horrible crying and screaming for a really, really long time...

This week cannot end soon enough.




In lieu of a book this week I'm HIGHLY recommending ALTEC earbuds. I bought one of those Skullcandy earbuds recently and became aware of how deeply Skullcandy products suck. Returned! These Altec babies were half the price ($20 or so) and are AWESOME!  They clobber your eardrums with deep, thick bass and lush, bright sounds. And complete noise filtering without bleeding music. Which is great for drowning out the sounds of people getting shot to death or poodles getting crunched under a tire.