Anyone else feel like this guy this morning? *Raises hand*
Yet another sign you're not ready to be a pro poker player? Can't play back to back nights until the clock reads "AM" and function normally the next day? Many wanna-be pros forget that what you see on TV is just a small snipet of that 18 hour day (or two or three) before the players reached that final table. One of Phil Ivey's or Barry Greenstein's many talents is being physically ready to play a full tournament day and have enough gas in the tank to lap the field in the cash games at night. Me? I'm finally learning the difference between how I play while rested and alert versus tired/drunk/chatting it up with my fellow degenerates found on the right hand side of the page.
But if a player is to become better he/she needs to learn to play optimally under any circumstances. Everyone gets tired, no one has that Mickey Mouse Club size smile on their faces 24/7, and if you do, put down the moisterizer and turn off the Playboy channel that your brother hacked so you could watch for free. Pervert.
Life brings distractions, if it didn't what's the point of living in the first place? Life is all about the distractions. Its the toaster that burns the top of your Wonder bread, while leaving the bottom paler then a Minnesotan in January. Its your spouse telling you she's pregnant (but I'm waiting till the ultrasound till I start buying cigars, but everything is looking good at the moment). Its friends coming over on two hours notice and Tropical Storm Little Drizz just went through your house with a box of Fruity Pebbles. Or, Its globe-trotting while covering poker events in Europe, you know like normal people :) Being able to handle these distractions while playing is yet another reason why the pros are pros (as stated above) and you and I are playing on the internet grinding out a half a big bet an hour more or less.
How do I deal with the distractions? The easy way is to shut out everything, IMs, liquor cabinets, lock the kids in their rooms. Basically encase yourself in a poker cocoon and wait for the lustful Jessica Tandy to breathe life into your aging body. Where's the fun in that? I'm not saying that Miss Daisy wouldn't be fun in the sack... Ewww, I just grossed myself out.
I'm probably going against everything that is out there about dealing with distractions and tell you to embrace them, rather then fight them. If you spend all this energy on avoiding distractions, doesn't that become a distraction on it own?
This doesn't mean open up six tables of three different poker variations, down dial-a-shots like you're auditioning for The AlCantHang Experience roadie position, and keep up with five different IM windows. But don't attempt to shut off life while you're playing because more then likely you'll go on tilt from the boredom.
A certain known poker writer was kind enough to write back about boredom and how he combats it at the tables. "Play a game, within the game" to simplify his response. If you find yourself getting bored while folding J2o for the 24,631th time, try guessing everyone's cards, sexual orientation, hometown and occupation. Anything to learn more about your opponents, so when you are finally blessed with decent cards and/or position to steal/bluff you know how that gay Micro-Marine Biologist from Seattle, WA is going to react to your 3XBB raise from middle position.
I participated in this on Saturday. Is being the "most improved" at anything similar to being the best loser? I won an award similar to this at the Bemidji Hockey camp simply because I was the highest scoring yet worst technically sound player on the ice. My coaches could never get over this 75 pound kid who couldn't see two feet in front of him, couldn't hear the whistle, yet could stick-handle well-enough so he wouldn't get pummled by some over-grown moose of a defensemen even while camping in front of the net like a good center does.
Anyhow... I ended up with a 690 series with my handicap. According to the past years of that tourney it should be good enough to score me some penny slots cash. I might have done better if I'd started drinking earlier as my best game came after shotgunning a 40 oz macro brew. Little Drizz was restless while watching and I didn't have enough quarters to satisfy his Skittles hunger from the candy machine but luckly he was engrossed in watching THE GOPHERS BEAT MICHIGAN HAHAHAHAHAHA. Had to be said. Go Gophers!!!!
Bowling alleys brings out all sorts of characters, one of the female gender caught my attention. No, her tits were not hanging out nor was she giving lap dances for rolling a four bagger. But when she turned around she revealed a tattoo of her name (in black script) on her neck. Hmmmmm.... I posed this question to bloggers on IM over the weekend as to why she had this done. If you have a better answer then my three possible solutions below please leave a comment.
1) She was part of a sports team that got their names printed on their necks instead of their jerseys
2) She uses it as a set-up to kick out any jerk who calls her by the wrong name while tagging her doggie style
3) She has an identical twin and got sick of her boyfriend feeling up her sister "on accident"
Thanks for dropping by, now head here to see the quaint little apple orchard we visited on Sunday. Since the Vikes were not on (thankfully), we enjoyed a day of feeding goats, decent magic tricks, and paying $3.25 for the worst brat I've ever eaten. My opinion, go for the apples and sleigh-of-hand, eat lunch at McDonald's.