You can’t have ambivalence when you play poker. You are either gungho rock out with your cock out, or don’t play. Poker players sense weakness. If you display any softness, they WILL eat your balls. Trust me, it hurts.
Sometimes my family schedule opens up on a night when I am completely tired. It creates such conflict for me. The universe conspires to give me a free night, I should rally the troops and seize the free time. However, I don’t feel up for it. Herein lies the rub.
In truth, I can’t bear to pass the opportunity to play cards, even if I’m exhausted. I suddenly have the feeling that this will be the last time. If I don’t go now, I’ll never again experience the exhilaration of poker’s body drenching adrenaline rush. (That sounds gay).
Nine times out of ten I go, and nine times out of nine, I lose. Not only that, I start off losing.
After 2 buy-ins, I buckle down. By 2AM, I have actually rallied back to even. I consider leaving, but 2 things cross my mind. First, I hate the idea of playing poker for 6 hours and breaking even. It sounds stupid, but I would rather lose than break even. At least I have something to show for my time: an empty pocket. Second, if I leave now I will never ever in my whole life have the time, energy or means to come back. This will DEFINITELY be my last time ever playing poker. Since this IS my last time, might as well go out with a bang. A poker binge, if you will.
On these nights, I don’t leave until the absence of chips states the obvious. Pal, you’re done. At 4AM, I am $400 poorer and ask myself why the fuck I even went in the first place. 3o minutes later I am home. The moment I step through my front door, I wonder if I have any time next weekend to go back. Instantly I catch myself. What the fuck am I thinking?
If I wait until next weekend, life will get too complicated and I’ll never get there. Better go back tomorrow.
I play because I have the bug.
Why do you play? Let me know at stories@whydoiplaypoker.net
