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Firsts...

August 1, 2006 | 12:30AM  | maudie dot b - gmail d c | 

OK. I've done another one. The audio is crappy - my sound card was fried from the lightening strike, so I had to put this together using my little speaker box I use with Skype - so cut it some slack. At some point, after I get a new sound card sometime in the future, I'll redo it. But, whatever, here it is:

FIRSTS

The text of the piece is below:

The cold bitter wind sliced around the edge of the truck, but was a mere afterthought to the group of young couples crowded within the camper shell. The peach vodka and bottle of mateus made it round, each gulp warming the inside while external heat was being generated by hyperactive hormones that only a teenager can experience. "It's time." "You sure?" "Yes..." The couple exited into the chilled air of a February night and secured themselves in the back seat of a 1968 GTO.....

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The actress stood in the sidelines, having just stolen a peek of the audience. She would have gladly plucked the wings from the butterflies in her stomach as she waited for her cue. The actor playing the lead stood next to her. He was older - a senior - more experienced and, yes, she had a huge crush on him. There wasn't a freshman girl who didn't. "Don't, worry, you'll do great." And with that, he leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek......

-----------------------------

The cliche wouldn't leave her head. The trite image of a point-of-view movie shot, slow motion, a blur of people flowing in the opposite direction and the insidious strain of the "Rocky" theme looping through her brain. The knot in her stomach wouldn't untie, but her tension released a tad when greeted by a friend who gave her a big hug. Reality hit as she walked through the doors. The needle skated off the vinyl when she was greeted by a mass of people and near chaos in a room that had a vanishing horizon point. She made her way through the throng and after a short wait behind the velvet ropes, claimed seat 6 at table #58....

-----------------------------------

I didn't play my best.

I didn't play my best because, truth be told, I don't know what my best is. Yet. So was my first time at the World Series of Poker a waste?

Abslutely not.

Once my nerves calmed down, I was able to then focus on the table and get into the rhythm of playing the game. One hand at a time. I'd spent a bit of time in the morning reading Scott's advice on tournament strategy, even jotting down some points to remember and formulating a plan of attack for this particular structure.

I played tight, too tight in hindsight, and missed opportunities to chip up with some stolen blinds. There were two women at my table who were solid, good players and I did what I could to stay out of their way with anything less than premium hands.

I was virtually card-dead for most of the four hours I occupied my seat. The seat next to me, the 7-seat, was the bust out seat. Three people came and went before I was finally doled my exit card.

I made a tough laydown with AQ when I was check-raised on a flop with an ace and two rags. A brief post-mortem with Double As confirmed that she'd probably hit two pair and that the laydown was appropriate.

Then, minutes before the second break, after 4 hours of swimming upstream, I was out when I was forced to call an all in bet after I'd committed myself with a continuation bet on the flop. I played this hand horribly. The correct move would have been to push pre-flop - or fold. Any involvement in the hand had all my chips committed. A rookie mistake.

However, the fire is fueled making me doubly determined to hone my tournament play so that next time - yes - next time I can say, I played my best.

But I'll always remember my first time...

Music: Circlesongs - Bobby McFerrin & Eye of the Tiger (Theme from Rocky)

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