I have a Masters Degree in Theatre. I've worked as a professional actor in the past. I've even been hailed as one of the top 5 actresses in the area here. I have a lot of confidence in my skills and abilities as an actor.
I live, however, in an area that doesn't support professional theatre (much - there is a summer musical theatre and a repertory theatre in Guthrie), - so all we have, for the most part, is the realm of community theatre. Granted, there is some very fine community theatre happening here, but for the most part, you'll see one or two stellar performances mixed with typically mediocre to bad community theatre acting.
I''ve been playing poker seriously for more than two years now. I feel I have a solid handle on the basics. I understand what kind of discipine is required. While I'm certainly not at a "Masters" level in my skills, I think I may have attained "Associates" level. Most assuredly I've got a high school diploma at the very least. There are many times when I've sat at a table - whether live or virtual - and I've been fairly certain I was the best player at the table.
I'm the kind of actor who doesn't rely on audience response to confirm whether I've done a good job or not. I know when I've had an "A game" performance and when I haven't. That said, I don't think there's an actor alive who isn't finely attuned to the audience response when taking the stage for curtain call. And especially attuned if they are taking a solo bow.
In community theatre, what can be especially bruising to one's ego is to hear an ovation given to the third spear-chucker on the left (from all 30 of his relatives) who was recruited off the street because not enough people showed up to audition... and the reaction to cool when you walk on stage.
The spear-chucker spikes a one-outer on the river and sucks-out.
My current poker slump has me banging my head against a wall built from an aggregate of frustration and impatience. I'm the best player at the table, holding the best hand and playing my best poker and the spear-chucker in the 5-seat steals my thunder with his spiked one-outer on the river.
So where does this train of thought leave me? Swallowing my bitter pride and looking to the long run.
In the long run, the spear-chucker will be heading back home soon after discovering Hollywood doesn't have the same opinion of his talent as his Gramma Bessie did.
In the long run, the suckout in the 5-seat will bust out on the first hand at the WSOP and witness his bankroll dwindle to zero.
In the longrun, applause will mean far less than the respect of my peers and my own knowledge of a good performance and my ability to strive to do better.
In the long run, my "A game" will be rewarded at the poker tables, the bankroll will swell again, and respect from my peers will mean far more than the pot that's pushed my way.
In the long run.
