Dear Poker Gods:
OK, I deserve to be punished for my braggy, I-have-all-the-luck-in-the-world post. Boy, was that arrogant of me. Yep, Arrogant. What can I say? I was feeling good, that kind of feeling in poker you rarely get, when all your small pockets turn into sets, when all your draws land ever-so-softly on the runway, when all your two pairs turn into full houses.
You're right. I deserved to have my nut flush with A,K lose to four of a kind. I deserved to have my top two pair with K,Q lose to a guy and his set of puny little 2s. I truly deserved to have my A,A cracked by K,9. Of course I do. I definitely deserved to have my A,K lose to A,2, or my A,Q lose to A,7, or my A,K lose to 3,3 when he gets the river on the FUCKING flop. Yep, I deserve it all, Poker Gods. I truly do. Or when I bet hard on top pair against a donkey and he catches his 7 on the river for two pair. I do deserve it all, Gods. I really do. Even when you give me hands, like trips in small pairs, they are ruined by draws or flushes, meaning I have to bet them hard and get minimal payment.
But here's the thing. We're done now. I bragged a little bit, Poker Gods. After five hours of grinding at the .25 cent tables, Poker Gods, surrounded by so many fish, you're starting to think you're Nemo, just waiting, oh Gods, waiting for a hand to get them with, knowing that if you are paitent enough, five hours of paitent, you'll get them.
And just as you are signing off, you get 10,8,K, rainbow, and you have 10,8. It's not a strong hand against an experienced player, but you know this guy will call you with anything.
And you bet hard, the guy calls.
And the 7 falls.
You know you're fucked, especially when the guys pushes in all his chips, $8 left, all your money, by the way, from those earlier races, but you have to call, not believing that this week could end like this.
That's just cruel, Poker Gods. Now I'm beginning to think, in fact, you are not God. You are Satan. You must be. No God, at least not my God, would torture me like this. There's punishment, and then there's just hanging me over the fire and watching me writhe in agony as you laugh, laugh, laugh.I played my grindy ass off four five hours, and you fucking give the donkey a 7?
Fuck you, Poker Gods. Fuck you. Fuck all your tortue and punishment and stringing me along so you can get your kicks on Route 66.
You owe me a winning streak this week, Gods. Sorry, but you do. One major suckout a night. Draws that hit. Trips. And all of it should be called by donkeys with large stacks.
And no bragging when it happens.