Something has happened. Something has happened that has me scratching my head a bit and asking, "Geeze, M, ya think it's finally sunk in?"
Let me take you back a bit - a perambulation, if you will, of a certain event which leads to the above query. It was, oh, just shortly after the UIGEA was passed and my last gasp extraordinary run at Party Poker. I'd cashed out and moved the funds to Full Tilt where I proceeded to fatten the bank-roll by a series of nightly short hit-and-run sessions at the shorthanded mid-limit tables. Before falling off the edge, I'd nearly doubled my bankroll, reaching an all time high.
Before falling off the edge. That's not accurate. I didn't fall of the edge - I leapt. I leapt in the full belief I could fly in complete defiance of the laws of physics or, rather, in complete defiance of the laws of variance.
Soaring through the fog of my hubris, I failed to see variance racing up through the mist to meet me. When it hit, it was a bone crusher. But instead of slowing down and letting the wounds heal, I climbed back up and leapt off the cliff again... and again... and again.
I was on tilt - mind numbing, in your face, I double dog dare you to suck out on me again you goddam motherfucking sonuvabitch tilt. Several sessions in a row I lied to myself, convinced I could beat it and get back on top. More than half the bankroll was gone before I slowed down... before a friend talked me off the ledge.
stop
playing
stop
playing
now
Those words scolded me from my computer screen after I'd answered a query with "I'm not doing so well..." A moment later, my cell phone chirped and the ensuing conversation served to back me away from the edge and helped me to deal with my tilt constructively, instead of the destructive way that had sliced through my good sense and my bankroll, as easily as a warm knife slices through butter.
The advice I received was good advice. I followed it by dropping way down in limits and keeping the sessions short or avoiding the cash games altogether. It was suggested that I turn to sit-n-gos or multi-table tourneys, or other games. In other words, I needed a change of pace - something to help me refocus and get a grip on my discipline.
I also needed to examine that tilt binge, to try to understand it in order to avoid it in the future. I have to say , though, I'd managed to keep tilt at bay for quite a long while before this latest slip into dementia. I hope it will be doubly long before I have to walk those halls of hell again.
So, back to the question at the top of this post.
A few days after the phone call, I enterd the first mult-table tourney (other than a poker blogger tourney) I'd played in months. It was one of the deep stack 15K guarantees on Full Tilt. I ended up playing some of the best tournament poker I've ever played - helped by a double up on my first hand. I managed to cash, coming within breathing distance of the final table.
I played a couple of others, going out early - but going out with the best hand in. I discovered my decision making had improved, my reads were more on than off and I was keenly aware of how I was missing the mark - most notably in acting too hastily (still a big flaw).
Then over this last week and a half, a Wheatie, CC*, and a couple of Hoys later, I managed to hit the final table - or at least darn near in every one (*CC's Friday limit game only had 11 entrants, but, still - a final table's a final table, no?).
My tournament play is feeling strong right now - that's what has me scratching my head and wondering if I've actually learned a thing or two. It's helped my return to cash games, too (where I'm staying at the proper limit for the bankroll) and tilt has scurried back to its hole, for the time being.
I gotta thank my friend, my compadre, my veritable soul-mate for being there - you know who you are.
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A sidenote - this week's Monday Hoy was a steep one for me. For the second time, I was up against a formidable opponent in one Lucko21. Last week he had me chasing my tail and took down a deserved win, leaving me in my bridesmaid frills holding the bouquet. This week, I took up the gauntlet again and after dueling over several tough pots, I managed to knock him out. I'm not bragging here - merely noting the pleasure of competing with a respected and tough comrade.
Unfortunately, I bubbled. For a while it looked like I might've gone heads up with the midgit - which would've given me immense pleasure, but Boobie-Lover Wes was relentless, denying me the chance to pummel the little guy, reserving that priviledge for himself.
