Dateline Later Night Friday, March 18, 2005

My brackets were shot. Gambling on the fortunes of others wasn’t going very well. So I joined a hold em table on my internet poker site and settled in with my lucky $33 to see what I could do for myself.

There were marks everywhere. These guys were drawing dead and were deliberate and loose about it. I do it for the cash, not for the obsession or the gambling. My rule is, I play until I’m ten dollars up or ten dollars down, then I leave the table. I made about $600 last summer pretty easily. i havent been playing much lately because we’re stealing our internet connection from the sucker with wireless service who’s dumb enough to be our neighbor, and my laptop from work is wireless-enabled. But, still, the connection isnt reliable and often goes out for weeks at a time. But I play when I can. Over the past month or so, I’m up about $40.

Marks are fish – suckers, losers. Drawing dead is hoping to make your hand, and paying to wait to see it, even when your best possible hand is already beaten. I threw two amateurs off the table, broke them, even though I only played for about twenty minutes.

I knew I was on a roll when I folded an Ace-7 after the flop, even though I paired the ace on the flop. One of the fish was betting hard, but not too hard. The river was another A, and still I didn’t regret my move. Then he turned over A-J, having drawn to a full house. It was my night. At that point I was six bucks down. But when I saw how my luck worked out on that hand, I was envigorated.

I was dealt a 9-6 clubs. Normally not a great hand, but the pre-flop bets were light and I limped in feeling sexy. The flop came 10-9-5. I always open the betting if I can when I’ve got the second highest pair on a bad flop. Everyone called. I checked and called on the turn, which was something small; no straights out there still. Then on the river came my 6. By this time it was just me and the fish who won on the full house. He kept betting. I raised to the limit on my two pair and beat him handily. He was out of money, but didn’t leave the table, instead refilling another ten bucks. This was too easy.

When you’re beat, as he was, on two pair, which can happen on literally any hand and is one of the toughest hands to read, you have to leave the table. That’s not to say you have to stop playing, but there are dozens of other tables with players who didn’t just see you lose like that and at whom you’re not tilting mad. It’s a bad idea to stay at the scene of your rape. Better to seek help and a new view.

I was up exactly nine dollars and sixty-five cents. Under normal circumstances, I’d round up and leave for the night. But I was feeling good. I stuck around for a few hands, just losing my blinds, when they dealt me two tens. The flop delivered for me, along with a low card and a Queen. My fish apparently had the Q, but when the low card paired on the river, I had my own full house, and he had no chance. Busted him again, along with the player to his right, and I took in more than ten bucks on that hand. Now up a full l5, I smiled, said thank you, and called it an evening. It was as if they were lining up for me, and I felt good.

Things werent going entirely well for the favorites tonight, however. Duke had a rough night. Wisconsin almost lost, so did Louisville. Syracuse actually did lose. Kansas is down 28-21 to Bucknell.

Fifteen years ago I lost a heartbreaking race to Bucknell at the Frostbite Regatta in Philadelphia. It was my junior year of college and my second year on the rowing team. It was the last racing weekend of the fall season. The Frostbite is a sprint race – 2000 meters down the curve in the Schuykill River.

I was rowing stroke in the heavyweight 8 event. At 1000 meters we were down 4 seats on Bucknell, but feeling good. We took a quick 10 and gained 2 or 3 seats. Without even trying, we then started moving right through them. The boat took on a life of its own, and we were feeling the critical rhythm required to make a 200-pound wooden boat pick up off the surface and fly.

By 1500 meters, we were 4 seats up and moving easily. water splashing and eyes wide open. At 1500 meters your legs feel like they’re going to burn through the bottom of the boat, unless you’re winning. If you’re winning all you feel is your heart beating out of your chest.

But in a sudden horrible instant, the boat lurched to port and there was a yelling from bow. If someone caught a crab, letting their oar get stuck in the water too long, they had to recover quickly. In this case the boat would right itself, though violently, and within two strokes you could get the whole thing back on track. But, now, the boat hung there. It dragged the whole thing on its keel. My oar was on the port side, and it was hell trying to get it out of the water at the finish. I had to jam the handle into my balls and push against the heels of my hands in panic, or I’d find my own oarblade diving under the surface. I yelled something to the front of the boat, to those idiots behind me who were wrecking everything. Bucknell moved right through us. There was lots of splashing and screaming. The coxsie had no idea what was going on. It was all chaos. We lost by a full boat length.

What happened was that the oarlock back in two-seat had jammed around the collar of the oar, the plastic ring that keeps the oar in the oarlock. This caused the collar to twist itself loose from the oar shaft. This is no easy task. The carbon fibers of the shaft broke on the surface and left the oar beyond repair. The oarsman in 2-seat was infamous for being too rough with his equipment, and I’m sure that he tightened the screw on his fucking oarlock too hard and caused the disgraceful event with his stupidity.

Team sports are difficult to handle, and even more difficult to bet upon. There are simply too many variables for the cautious or excitable gambler. My retreat is poker, which isnt gambling, just valuable confidence.

- posted by seanmh @ 10:44 PM