Thursday, October 9, 2008
National Lampoon's Josh Peterson's 30th Birthday Celebration Vegas Vacation
What do they say, whenever one door closes, another one opens? Well the door t0 Vegas has been thrust open and it couldn't come at a more perfect time. Should be quite a little time, staying in the downtown section for a change. I'll pass along anything noteworthy, Wolff isn't showing until Saturday unfortunately so we'll have to make up for lost time then. I have quite a bit less money on me than the last time...but I'm still gonna throw some chips around, no doubt about that. LDT
Saturday, October 4, 2008
A Bitter Pill
Four days ago, I actually thought, "You know, if the Cubs win the World Series this year, it would be great to have something written about that I can look back on." It seems completely ridiculous now. I'm not even sure what should be said here that hasn't been already. They made the Dodgers look like world beaters...and don't get me wrong, the Dodgers played well. Their starting pitching was very good. When they had guys in scoring position, they came through. It's just a fucking shame that the Cubs fell flat because it could have been a great series. Instead, it was a laugher. Swept again...with this team? NINE straight losses in the playoffs? I've shaken my head so much side to side the last 72 hours that I'm resembling my fan at night. Maybe when it comes to the Cubs and failure, I shouldn't be surprised anymore. But I am. I really am. They duped me good this time.
After 2003, I cared a tad bit less every passing year with each Cubs team...until this year. They roped me back in, they won with hitting and they won with pitching. They won with dramatic comebacks and they won in lopsided routs. They played every day like a team that knew full well they were the lucky ones, getting paid millions to do something they love. Winning cures plenty of ills, but it doesn't turn enemies into friends. Not every successful team likes each other. The teams that are the best to watch win the right way and have a blast doing it. That was our team this year. That's why I feel for them, more than anything. Here's hoping the voices they hear about what went wrong will cease sooner rather than later. We make athletes into heroes when they succeed and turn them into villains when they fail. These guys are neither, but I still like them a heck of a lot. Next year is a long way off. But it's still out there.
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies."
Andy Dufresne said it, and I'm echoing. Maybe it won't be until I'm about to turn 60 when it finally happens and it's my son who cares more than I, just as the case with my dad today. But it's going to happen. The Cubs are going to win the World Series. Maybe it's not the healthiest habit to care as much we we do about something like this. But when you've wanted something your whole life, you have to see it all the way through. That's just the way it is. I'll wait as long as I have to. And then I'll bask in the moment for as long as I can.
Hey Chicago, whaddya say???
After 2003, I cared a tad bit less every passing year with each Cubs team...until this year. They roped me back in, they won with hitting and they won with pitching. They won with dramatic comebacks and they won in lopsided routs. They played every day like a team that knew full well they were the lucky ones, getting paid millions to do something they love. Winning cures plenty of ills, but it doesn't turn enemies into friends. Not every successful team likes each other. The teams that are the best to watch win the right way and have a blast doing it. That was our team this year. That's why I feel for them, more than anything. Here's hoping the voices they hear about what went wrong will cease sooner rather than later. We make athletes into heroes when they succeed and turn them into villains when they fail. These guys are neither, but I still like them a heck of a lot. Next year is a long way off. But it's still out there.
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies."
Andy Dufresne said it, and I'm echoing. Maybe it won't be until I'm about to turn 60 when it finally happens and it's my son who cares more than I, just as the case with my dad today. But it's going to happen. The Cubs are going to win the World Series. Maybe it's not the healthiest habit to care as much we we do about something like this. But when you've wanted something your whole life, you have to see it all the way through. That's just the way it is. I'll wait as long as I have to. And then I'll bask in the moment for as long as I can.
Hey Chicago, whaddya say???
Thursday, October 2, 2008
A Nightmare on Clark Street
Really? The best Cubs team in 63 years and this is how the playoffs go? The spirited, care free team of the past six months has completely disappeared. In its place is the team all Cubs fans, even the most loyal of ones, deep down were scared to death might appear. The weight of pressure can crack even the greatest of human beings, and right now it looks like the guys we love might not have what it takes. 4 errors, all four infielders, making one. 7-2 and 10-3 to the Dodgers, a team that finished 6 games over .500? As a fan I feel sick, but I feel even worse for the players. You watch a team for enough games and they become people more than players. Those guys bleed blue and want so fricking badly to win this together for each other and everyone else. I can't help and think of them slumped at their lockers, mumbling responses to interview questions, trying to wake up from a dream but their eyes won't open. And that makes me sadder than anything.
When Russell Martin's double cleared the bases in that impossibly bad 2nd inning, I just flat out left the bar I was at without saying a word to anyone. Just walked out, passed my car and kept on going. It was really the only thing I knew how to do. I ended up walking to Allianz, cleaned my fish bowl and watered my plant. Thought how good a cigarette might taste. If this team that is this talented from top to bottom can't win in the playoffs, what hope do we ever have? This wasn't wistful optimism headed into the season, then the summer, and finally the playoffs. This wasn't about the team getting hot and catching some breaks to win a championship. This was a team that everyone was behind, they had proven themselves in every possible way during the season. They swept the Brewers, Mets and Diamondbacks, when each team at the time was arguably the second best team in the league. They won NINE straight series during the middle of the season, the first time it's happened in decades. They had a mercurial pitcher throw the first no-hitter in our lifetime. They outscored their opponents by almost 200 runs, far more than any team in baseball.
So what does it all mean? Is the journey really better than the destination? It's impossible to measure a team's true worth without taking into account what they do when it really matters. For so many years the Cubs never even sniffed the playoffs, we watched the playoffs because we loved the game but secretly wished for our guys to have a chance one day. Some people remember the loss in 1945, more still the collapse of 1969, and even more the debacle of 1984. That was my first sports memory, and it will never leave me. I was 5 and didn't really know the pain of a giant loss...until 2003 that is. 5 outs from the World Series, leading 3-0 in the clinching game with your best pitcher on the mound. It was FINALLY happening. And of course it didn't happen. As soon as we were about to feel an unprecedented kind of good, the storm of bad swept onto the scene and overtook it. Some said it was just the start, that they would be back the next year. But I knew better. Nothing is promised. A small part of me left that October, and I'm not sure it will come back until the night when at long last we drink from the Cup. 30 hours ago, that feeling was close as it's ever been. Now it seems like it's never been farther away.
This series feels over. I hope more than anything that I'm wrong. Very few things make me feel pain. Cubs playoff losses do. Maybe that's stupid because it's only a game. Or maybe it makes sense because it stands for something bigger. All I know is I've had a vision this year more than ever of singing deliriously in the streets around Wrigley for hours into the endless night after a World Series victory. Driving in the car, sitting at work, playing softball, the vision followed me everywhere. It made my smile get big and my eyes go soft.
And now it's gone.
When Russell Martin's double cleared the bases in that impossibly bad 2nd inning, I just flat out left the bar I was at without saying a word to anyone. Just walked out, passed my car and kept on going. It was really the only thing I knew how to do. I ended up walking to Allianz, cleaned my fish bowl and watered my plant. Thought how good a cigarette might taste. If this team that is this talented from top to bottom can't win in the playoffs, what hope do we ever have? This wasn't wistful optimism headed into the season, then the summer, and finally the playoffs. This wasn't about the team getting hot and catching some breaks to win a championship. This was a team that everyone was behind, they had proven themselves in every possible way during the season. They swept the Brewers, Mets and Diamondbacks, when each team at the time was arguably the second best team in the league. They won NINE straight series during the middle of the season, the first time it's happened in decades. They had a mercurial pitcher throw the first no-hitter in our lifetime. They outscored their opponents by almost 200 runs, far more than any team in baseball.
So what does it all mean? Is the journey really better than the destination? It's impossible to measure a team's true worth without taking into account what they do when it really matters. For so many years the Cubs never even sniffed the playoffs, we watched the playoffs because we loved the game but secretly wished for our guys to have a chance one day. Some people remember the loss in 1945, more still the collapse of 1969, and even more the debacle of 1984. That was my first sports memory, and it will never leave me. I was 5 and didn't really know the pain of a giant loss...until 2003 that is. 5 outs from the World Series, leading 3-0 in the clinching game with your best pitcher on the mound. It was FINALLY happening. And of course it didn't happen. As soon as we were about to feel an unprecedented kind of good, the storm of bad swept onto the scene and overtook it. Some said it was just the start, that they would be back the next year. But I knew better. Nothing is promised. A small part of me left that October, and I'm not sure it will come back until the night when at long last we drink from the Cup. 30 hours ago, that feeling was close as it's ever been. Now it seems like it's never been farther away.
This series feels over. I hope more than anything that I'm wrong. Very few things make me feel pain. Cubs playoff losses do. Maybe that's stupid because it's only a game. Or maybe it makes sense because it stands for something bigger. All I know is I've had a vision this year more than ever of singing deliriously in the streets around Wrigley for hours into the endless night after a World Series victory. Driving in the car, sitting at work, playing softball, the vision followed me everywhere. It made my smile get big and my eyes go soft.
And now it's gone.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
So Far, So Bad
You play 162 games to get home field advantage in the playoffs and it only takes one game for it to be gone. All you can really hope for when your team gets to the postseason is for its best players to do what they've done all year. Ryan Dempster certainly was not that guy tonight, walking SEVEN men in 4 2/3 innings. Despite those seven, he still would have been out unscathed had he not hung a changeup to Loney after he had him down 0-2.
The final five innings from there were just so dispiriting, it seemed the crowd at Wrigley had never even been to a game before. That crowd was so distant and silent, it didn't even seem like the game was really happening, like if they were just warming up for something.
Carlos has been both completely dominant and completely awful for extended stretches this year on the mound. It's obvious which one we need tomorrow. If he is the guy he thinks he is and we all want him to be, Game 2 is his time. It's gotta be.
My head feels like it's not supposed to, so I'm gonna let head hit pillow. The sun'll come up.....
The final five innings from there were just so dispiriting, it seemed the crowd at Wrigley had never even been to a game before. That crowd was so distant and silent, it didn't even seem like the game was really happening, like if they were just warming up for something.
Carlos has been both completely dominant and completely awful for extended stretches this year on the mound. It's obvious which one we need tomorrow. If he is the guy he thinks he is and we all want him to be, Game 2 is his time. It's gotta be.
My head feels like it's not supposed to, so I'm gonna let head hit pillow. The sun'll come up.....
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
As October dawns
There are many, many people who feel that this could really be the year. Hopeless optimists maybe. But devoted to death nonetheless. And I'm among them.....if the Cubs can find a way to win 11 games this month....I will smile and laugh and rejoice for as long as I can. Then I'll stop and move on with my life. But I'll never be the same.
Let's. Fucking.
Do. This.
Do. This.Sunday, July 20, 2008
The brink
Poker is a unique game, like golf, in that as soon as you have it all figured out, things can turn against you like that. You have a great round of golf or a great poker session one day and then the next day it seems like nothing can go right. Poker is at times exhiliriating and at others maddening because some days every play you make is the right one, each decision is correct and they just keep pushing you pots. But the next, it seems like all your reads are wrong, and even the right ones end in disastrous river cards. The highs and lows are very extremes, and it's a main many people can't handle it. They can't handle being on top of the world one day and in the bottom of the barrel the next. I'll admit it's not easy. I've taken a few walks away from my computer with my arms up in the air in disbelief at what just occurred. I usually end up by my front door shaking my head from side to side and asking myself why I put up with this. Why I put up with a game that can torture you so, can take you to the brink of ecstasy, tease you with illusions of granduer, and then yank you back as if to say, "Yeah, right, you didn't think you were going out there, did you?" And after seeing The Dark Knight last night, I think the Joker is involved in this scenario somehow....
But the anguish from tough beats and bad plays passes quickly, because ultimately it doesn't mean much. It's a game. It's a pasttime, a hobby, but it will never define me. I think about how hard some people have it in life, think about how lucky I am to have what I do....and that spade on the river that knocked me out of the tournament doesn't hurt at all anymore.
But the anguish from tough beats and bad plays passes quickly, because ultimately it doesn't mean much. It's a game. It's a pasttime, a hobby, but it will never define me. I think about how hard some people have it in life, think about how lucky I am to have what I do....and that spade on the river that knocked me out of the tournament doesn't hurt at all anymore.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
26 million
That's how many chips Dennis Phillips has going into the final table of the World Series in November. It's more than anyone else. That's right, the dude from table blue 14 on the first day of the series is the mother fucking chip leader of the main event. Hole. Lee. Shit. Take it home buddy....
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Beards unite
Haha, and just to prove the altoids are indeed real....
Dude has 9.1 million in chips now, 2nd place with 35 people left. Hot damn....
My new friend
This picture won't mean much to anyone else, but it's a picture of Dennis Phillips, who was leading the main event of the WSOP with 77 people left with just over 5 million in chips. This is the guy from St. Louis who was at my table eight days ago, super friendly guy, I made him laugh pretty hard a couple of times. He handed out altoids to the entire table and just genuinely seemed to be enjoying himself. Here's hoping he wins the whole thing. This rules....
Saturday, July 12, 2008
When We Were Young
If you're driving east from Minneapolis through Wisconsin in Highway 94 and you get off at exit 59, the first exit for Eau Claire, go four miles and exit at Clairemont, take Clairemont to the right and go another four miles and turn left on Menomonie, take Menomonie until it turns into Water St., take Water until you hit 7th Ave.., take a left and stop in front of the first house after the American Legion parking lot, you'll be looking at the blue beast, address: 213 7th Ave. It's the place where an impossible amount of memories were formed and statements were made. A place where one roommate wondered, "What the hell is in the water in Wausau?" and another came out of his room at 4 AM and admitted, "I made a boo boo." And it's also the place where several of us cut our teeth at the game of Texas Hold 'Em, where we experienced our first successes and setbacks, felt our first pain and pleasure, and planted the seeds for the possibility of something bigger down the road. And what just went down, that was as much for the residents of the 213 as it was for me. My screen name on Full Tilt, the site that enabled me to go on this little tripvacatravaganza? 213 7th. It's only right.
I'm typing this in the presence of a former 213 resident. One drunken night back in 2003, we penned perhaps the greatest blog entry of all time in a joint effort. That was when he had a blog he kept up and he juuuust might have promised me that if I keep up some kind of regular posting that he will come out of retirement. Not like Favre. Not even like Jordan. More like George Foreman. Right to the top.
Tomorrow there will be golf. Beautiful and god awful golf. Majestic and horrendous drives. Breathtaking and hideous putts. Swearing rants, club throws, hand pounds and chest bumps. Many were invited but four will show. Nate Johnson, as ridiculous on the golf course as he is everywhere else, Will Jefferson, terrorizing the ball and chasing the perfect round, Brent Widmark, from Happy Gilmore one shot to Cosmo Kramer the next, and myself, as likely to draw blood as I am to make a par.
All in search of some kind of moment, like the one when Cousin Dave took a driver and a golf ball out in front of the 213 at 2:30 AM, took dead aim at Water St., and reared back.....
I'm typing this in the presence of a former 213 resident. One drunken night back in 2003, we penned perhaps the greatest blog entry of all time in a joint effort. That was when he had a blog he kept up and he juuuust might have promised me that if I keep up some kind of regular posting that he will come out of retirement. Not like Favre. Not even like Jordan. More like George Foreman. Right to the top.
Tomorrow there will be golf. Beautiful and god awful golf. Majestic and horrendous drives. Breathtaking and hideous putts. Swearing rants, club throws, hand pounds and chest bumps. Many were invited but four will show. Nate Johnson, as ridiculous on the golf course as he is everywhere else, Will Jefferson, terrorizing the ball and chasing the perfect round, Brent Widmark, from Happy Gilmore one shot to Cosmo Kramer the next, and myself, as likely to draw blood as I am to make a par.
All in search of some kind of moment, like the one when Cousin Dave took a driver and a golf ball out in front of the 213 at 2:30 AM, took dead aim at Water St., and reared back.....
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Just an average day...except completely not at all
Germany, Italy, Scotland, Sweden and the U.S. There were people from five different countries at my starting table. That's one cool thing about the WSOP. Many, many people from countless backgrounds and nationalities competing in the same event. That makes it even more enjoyable to be a part of. It's late, I'm tired, so here we go....
On the cab ride to the Rio, I was extremely relaxed and the cab driver even commented that he's had several passengers in the past on their way to the first ever World Series and some of them have been sweating bullets. He said I seemed "pretty cool", but then again when am I not? :) I had time to eat a giant assortment of fruit from Starbucks, made a call to the younger bro and entered the room. Just another 2,000 people started playing today, the largest field of the tourney thus far. After some obligatory announcements by some important people, some country guy sang some song that everyone paid some attention to. Then the famous words, "Shuffle up and deal!". Applause. And we were off...
For the first two hours of the day, I played flawless poker. I realized that at the first break. The most noteworthy hand was about an hour in, nice guy in a St. Louis Cardinals hand limped in for 100, I raised it to 400 with 10 9 of spades. Dude from Sweden called -- Oh yeah, quick side note. The guy from Sweden is a major celebrity there, apparently he is the Simon Cowell on Sweden's version of American Idol. He had people from the Swedish press stopping by, chatting and taking pictures throughout much of the day -- so he calls and the St. Louis guy calls as well. There's 1250 in the pot and the flop comes down 10 9 8 with two hearts. The St. Louis guy hesitates for a SPLIT second and reaches for chips, betting 600. He seemed pretty strong but clearly I was too. I opted to just call to see what developed. The other guy folded and the turn was the king of hearts. St. Louis bets 1100 and at this point I know I am behind, but the bet is not too large, I know I will win with any 10 or 9 and I think I can steal the pot if a fourth heart comes on the river. So I call and the river comes the 4 of hearts. St. Louis clearly doesn't like that card and checks. I wait three seconds and fire 2100 into the pot. He shakes his head and folds QJ faceup. I nod, pat myself on the back silently and move on. Always a good feeling winning a large pot with the worst hand. It's poker at its finest. It was calm, controlled poker I played the first two hours, slowly chipping my way up to 25,000 in chips at the first break from the 20,000 we started with.
The 2nd level, more of the same, but I actually had some hands this time. 66 was the big hand form me on the day, I won two medium sized pots holding sixes, and also one large pot. When I limped in after St. Louis limped and the Scotland dude raised it to 900. Scotland guy was using this play a lot, raising when there were limpers so he didn't necessarily need to have much of a hand here. St. Louis called the raise and I decided to come along for the ride as well. The flop comes down 6 4 2. Yahtzee. We both check, but unfortunately Scotland checks too. The turn is an ace, which I think is a great card since there's a chance they both could have an ace. St. Louis, checks, I check, Scotland bets 1500. St. Louis ponders for a bit and calls. Now, my decision here is between calling and raising, I think it's pretty close, there were two spades out there so I decided to raise it to 5000. Scotland folded pretty quickly and St. Louis thought for a minute ended up folding also, saying he had the flush draw. So the raise achieved its purpose and I had over 30,000 in chips after that hand. I also had one other hugie that I thought was going to be a monster but ended up being a bit of a letdown. I find the magic AA in early position and raise it to 600. Two people call, including a nice lady two seats to my right who was friendly but by far the worst player at the table. She was also playing pretty tight so I knew she had some semblance of hand. Well, the flop comes down A 7 7, which I thought was going to be bad because I was highly unlikely to get any action. But the woman bets 500, so maybe she has an ace or (fingers crossed) a 7. I just call and the turn is another 7. Well, now she had better not have a 7!! She bets 500 again and again I just call. The river is a 2 and she checks. OK good, no 7, but if she has an ace she almost has to pay me off, so I make a pretty large bet of 3500. She thinks for about two minutes and I think she is about to call but she ends up folding QQ faceup. Man. If only she had re-raised before the flop. Oh well. By this point everyone at the table knew I was solid and was really respecting my bets, which enabled to win a number of medium-sized pots with semi-bluffs with mediocre hands. I had my chip stack up to about 39,000 before I made really my only mis-step of the first four hours. The funny German guy on my right (he was wearing a mini-German flag in between his visor and his head, but it was placed so it looked like the flag was actually coming out of his head). I think I impressed with my limited knowledge of the German language over the course of the day and night. Ich spreche deutsch ziemlich gut. So in the hand German dude raises it to 600 from the small blind and I call from the big blind with K 10 offsuit. The flop comes 853 all diamonds. He bets 1000 and I call (I have the K of diamonds.) The King of Diamonds. That's a Minneapolis strip club. Wolff wants the hot ass shit...haha.....OK sorry, the turn is an offsuit jack, German dude bets 1000 again and I think I can take the pot away here so I raise him to 2500. He hesitates like two seconds and makes it 10,000. Ahhhh, plan backfired. I fold and he shows two red aces. Good thing no diamond hit the turn...whew. So head to the second break with 35,000 in chips and still feel good about the state of things. Sans the last head my reads have been spot on and I have had a few big hands. Always a good combination. Only one mistake in four hours is pretty damn good. So far, so great....
I win a few pots early in the 3rd level and my chip count is just under 39,000. I have lots of greens, blacks, blues, many yellows and a few oranges. I have the most chips at my table, the day really couldn't have started out any better. But as is the case with so, so many tourneys, the switch can flip like that. It really all started with the Swedish dude, actually even though he was kind of pompous he really wasn't a bad guy. Anyway, he was pretty short on chips and decided to moved them all in the middle after I raised a limper with AK offsuit. It was about 5000 more for me to call after the 900 bet. I called and he showed AJ of hearts and I am in great shape to knock him out and move over the 40,000 mark. The flop was safe, but boom, a jack hit on the turn and just like that I am down to 30,000 or so. It isn't always about getting lucky in the tourneys, it's also about not getting unlucky and that hand sort of began to shift things. The rest of the level can really be summed up in two hands, one orbit I raise with A 10 of hearts, and the flop comes three spades, the next orbit I raise with A 10 of spades and the flop comes three hearts. Ugh. I check folded the first one, but bet the flop on the second one and had to fold to a raise. The last hand before the break I raised with KJ and a goateed fellow, who was arguably the best player at the table called out of the big blind. Flop comes 3 4 5. Check check. Turn 3. Check Check. River K. He bets 1500, I call and he shows 6 7 for the flopped straight. Stupid King on the end. That hand was about two minutes before the dinner break and I desperately needed the break as frustration was setting in. I went from 39,500 in chips at my high point to 23,000 and I needed to clear my head.
You know the feeling you get when you are kind of in a bad mood and you are stuck in traffic, not moving and it only makes things worse? Well walking with the sea of people through the hallways headed to dinner....we were moving so slowly and people were yelling and all I was thinking about was the last hour and a half of horribleness at the table. Not good times. I felt like my fish, little John the second, would have felt if he lived in a shot glass. Finally the line started moving, I ate some pizza, talked with some friendly guys from Long Island and the good vibes were flowing again. I was smiling again walking back from dinner, ready to turn the tide again.
One important aspect of tournament is that when someone gets knocked out of your table, someone else gets moved in to take their place. Depending on who this player is and what their style and chip stack is, they alone can affect the overall flow of the table. If the person has a ton of chips or is playing a lot of pots, they immediately demand the respect and attention of the rest of the table. Or sometimes, someone comes to the table and just will not lose a pot. Every hand they enter, they end up raking in chips. Which brings me to....the dude from Austria (yep, another country), who came to our table with a fairly small stack but just started winning pots immediately after he sat down. Which brings me to....the hand I have the most questions about from the day/night. Austrian dude was seated to my left (actually, I was in the 9 seat and he the 1 seat, so the dealer was between us). Blinds were 150 and 300, German dude limps in and I raise it to 1400 with KQ of spades. I'll occasionally just call here, but I think raising is the better play. Austrian guy calls, German dude calls, three of us see the flop with already 4500 in the middle. The flop comes 10 3 2 with all different suits, German dude checks, I bet 2500, the Austrian guy thinks for a bit before calling and the German dude folds. Now, this is the key moment of the hand. I put the Austrian guy on a pair, possibly a big pair but I thought medium pair was more likely, something like 88 or 99. So when the turn came another 10, I had another decision to make. I could check and basically surrender the hand or bet again and force him to figure out if he really had me beat. I went with door #2 and bet 5000. Austrian guy thought even longer this time, I really needed a fold here but he ended up calling. At this point I only had 14,000 left and couldn't bet again. The river was a 7, I checked, he bet 7000 and I had to let it go. He didn't show his hand, but on another night betting again on the turn might have forced a fold and been the right play. Tonight it didn't work out that way. In retrospect I should have checked on the turn and saved 5k in chips, but I'm always going to err on the side of aggression, I just think that's the best style. But tonight, the wind went out of my sails even more after that hand. The icing of the level came when I raised with A 10 (yep, that hand was no good to me) and a middle aged guy who may have smelled bad called out of the small blind. Flop comes Q 10 5 with two diamonds. I bet 1500, he calls. Turn J. Check check. River 6. Check Check. He shows AJ. Of course. I was resembling the Titanic at the last break, down to 9,000 in chips. The question is, could I avoid the iceberg....
The reality of the situation was that I wasn't too keen on barely getting into day 2 because I wouldn't play again until Wednesday and staying in town for another three nights just to come back and play for a few hours short on chips on Wednesday...I mean....not ideal or cool or something I wanted to do to myself. So I was definitely looking for spots to double up early in the last level. I had one pretty early when the possible smelly dude raised to 1500 (blinds at 200/400 now) from middle position and I looked down at 10 10 in the big blind. Now, little know fact, 10 10 and I rarely seem to lose with it and I had enough chips to make him fold if he wasn't too strong. But I opted to just call, the flop came A83, I checked, he bet and I folded. He showed me an ace. I asked if I pushed all in before the flop if he was calling and he said yes. So I dodged elimination there, good news. The bad news of course is that I was down to 7000 in chips and in a heap of trouble. The next orbit, I found AQ and raised it to 1300, I had about 5000 behind. I was planning on callin a re-raise, so when the new guy at the table, who had a mountain of chips and was wearing a sock as a wristband, made it 4000 to go, I didn't think too long before getting the rest of my chips in. Unfortunately, he had AK and I was in bad shape. The turn actually gave me some hope a third club (I had the ace of clubs), but neither a club or a queen hit on the river. And that was that. Nothing you can do but tap the table and wish everyone good luck. I shook a few hands and that was all she wrote. It was a friendly table, I actually liked everyone which is a little rare. Walking out of the room, past all the tables and the spectators was definitely a walk of shame. It's fairly obvious when someone gets up and walks through the room that they have been knocked out of the tournament. I avoided eye contact. It seemed like the right thing to do. I took one last look back as I got to the door. And gone.....
I needed something to cheer me up and I knew where to find it. One ice cream bar later, I felt a lot better. On the cab ride from the Rio to the Mirage, the cab driver commented that it's "fucking hotter here than it is in hell. I'd take hell over this weather." I got a kick out of that.
So that's the story. Quite a day to say the least. Clearly I'm disappointed at how it played out, but sometimes you just can't hit flops and the wheels start to come off a bit and getting things turned around is like trying to stop a Honda Accord from rolling down your friend's driveway when you accidentally left it in drive when you got out. It's just not gonna happen. All the ups and downs, swings good and bad, massive momentum changes with the turn of one card. But that's what I love. It's why I think poker and baseball are so similar. There are so many little things that are going on, little details to keep aware of, but sometimes it's one big play or hand that changes everything. Every game is different and many, many times you are left disappointed but the journey fucking rules and the times you get to the top the view is more wonderful than you could have imagined it. I know I've got the game to go deep in this tournament someday. It's no longer a question of if.....
Also thanks to everyone who wished me well and sent the good vibes. It meant a lot. I wish I could have done a little more. But all the kind words really made me smile. You're alright kids.....
See ya when I see ya,
Adam
On the cab ride to the Rio, I was extremely relaxed and the cab driver even commented that he's had several passengers in the past on their way to the first ever World Series and some of them have been sweating bullets. He said I seemed "pretty cool", but then again when am I not? :) I had time to eat a giant assortment of fruit from Starbucks, made a call to the younger bro and entered the room. Just another 2,000 people started playing today, the largest field of the tourney thus far. After some obligatory announcements by some important people, some country guy sang some song that everyone paid some attention to. Then the famous words, "Shuffle up and deal!". Applause. And we were off...
For the first two hours of the day, I played flawless poker. I realized that at the first break. The most noteworthy hand was about an hour in, nice guy in a St. Louis Cardinals hand limped in for 100, I raised it to 400 with 10 9 of spades. Dude from Sweden called -- Oh yeah, quick side note. The guy from Sweden is a major celebrity there, apparently he is the Simon Cowell on Sweden's version of American Idol. He had people from the Swedish press stopping by, chatting and taking pictures throughout much of the day -- so he calls and the St. Louis guy calls as well. There's 1250 in the pot and the flop comes down 10 9 8 with two hearts. The St. Louis guy hesitates for a SPLIT second and reaches for chips, betting 600. He seemed pretty strong but clearly I was too. I opted to just call to see what developed. The other guy folded and the turn was the king of hearts. St. Louis bets 1100 and at this point I know I am behind, but the bet is not too large, I know I will win with any 10 or 9 and I think I can steal the pot if a fourth heart comes on the river. So I call and the river comes the 4 of hearts. St. Louis clearly doesn't like that card and checks. I wait three seconds and fire 2100 into the pot. He shakes his head and folds QJ faceup. I nod, pat myself on the back silently and move on. Always a good feeling winning a large pot with the worst hand. It's poker at its finest. It was calm, controlled poker I played the first two hours, slowly chipping my way up to 25,000 in chips at the first break from the 20,000 we started with.
The 2nd level, more of the same, but I actually had some hands this time. 66 was the big hand form me on the day, I won two medium sized pots holding sixes, and also one large pot. When I limped in after St. Louis limped and the Scotland dude raised it to 900. Scotland guy was using this play a lot, raising when there were limpers so he didn't necessarily need to have much of a hand here. St. Louis called the raise and I decided to come along for the ride as well. The flop comes down 6 4 2. Yahtzee. We both check, but unfortunately Scotland checks too. The turn is an ace, which I think is a great card since there's a chance they both could have an ace. St. Louis, checks, I check, Scotland bets 1500. St. Louis ponders for a bit and calls. Now, my decision here is between calling and raising, I think it's pretty close, there were two spades out there so I decided to raise it to 5000. Scotland folded pretty quickly and St. Louis thought for a minute ended up folding also, saying he had the flush draw. So the raise achieved its purpose and I had over 30,000 in chips after that hand. I also had one other hugie that I thought was going to be a monster but ended up being a bit of a letdown. I find the magic AA in early position and raise it to 600. Two people call, including a nice lady two seats to my right who was friendly but by far the worst player at the table. She was also playing pretty tight so I knew she had some semblance of hand. Well, the flop comes down A 7 7, which I thought was going to be bad because I was highly unlikely to get any action. But the woman bets 500, so maybe she has an ace or (fingers crossed) a 7. I just call and the turn is another 7. Well, now she had better not have a 7!! She bets 500 again and again I just call. The river is a 2 and she checks. OK good, no 7, but if she has an ace she almost has to pay me off, so I make a pretty large bet of 3500. She thinks for about two minutes and I think she is about to call but she ends up folding QQ faceup. Man. If only she had re-raised before the flop. Oh well. By this point everyone at the table knew I was solid and was really respecting my bets, which enabled to win a number of medium-sized pots with semi-bluffs with mediocre hands. I had my chip stack up to about 39,000 before I made really my only mis-step of the first four hours. The funny German guy on my right (he was wearing a mini-German flag in between his visor and his head, but it was placed so it looked like the flag was actually coming out of his head). I think I impressed with my limited knowledge of the German language over the course of the day and night. Ich spreche deutsch ziemlich gut. So in the hand German dude raises it to 600 from the small blind and I call from the big blind with K 10 offsuit. The flop comes 853 all diamonds. He bets 1000 and I call (I have the K of diamonds.) The King of Diamonds. That's a Minneapolis strip club. Wolff wants the hot ass shit...haha.....OK sorry, the turn is an offsuit jack, German dude bets 1000 again and I think I can take the pot away here so I raise him to 2500. He hesitates like two seconds and makes it 10,000. Ahhhh, plan backfired. I fold and he shows two red aces. Good thing no diamond hit the turn...whew. So head to the second break with 35,000 in chips and still feel good about the state of things. Sans the last head my reads have been spot on and I have had a few big hands. Always a good combination. Only one mistake in four hours is pretty damn good. So far, so great....
I win a few pots early in the 3rd level and my chip count is just under 39,000. I have lots of greens, blacks, blues, many yellows and a few oranges. I have the most chips at my table, the day really couldn't have started out any better. But as is the case with so, so many tourneys, the switch can flip like that. It really all started with the Swedish dude, actually even though he was kind of pompous he really wasn't a bad guy. Anyway, he was pretty short on chips and decided to moved them all in the middle after I raised a limper with AK offsuit. It was about 5000 more for me to call after the 900 bet. I called and he showed AJ of hearts and I am in great shape to knock him out and move over the 40,000 mark. The flop was safe, but boom, a jack hit on the turn and just like that I am down to 30,000 or so. It isn't always about getting lucky in the tourneys, it's also about not getting unlucky and that hand sort of began to shift things. The rest of the level can really be summed up in two hands, one orbit I raise with A 10 of hearts, and the flop comes three spades, the next orbit I raise with A 10 of spades and the flop comes three hearts. Ugh. I check folded the first one, but bet the flop on the second one and had to fold to a raise. The last hand before the break I raised with KJ and a goateed fellow, who was arguably the best player at the table called out of the big blind. Flop comes 3 4 5. Check check. Turn 3. Check Check. River K. He bets 1500, I call and he shows 6 7 for the flopped straight. Stupid King on the end. That hand was about two minutes before the dinner break and I desperately needed the break as frustration was setting in. I went from 39,500 in chips at my high point to 23,000 and I needed to clear my head.
You know the feeling you get when you are kind of in a bad mood and you are stuck in traffic, not moving and it only makes things worse? Well walking with the sea of people through the hallways headed to dinner....we were moving so slowly and people were yelling and all I was thinking about was the last hour and a half of horribleness at the table. Not good times. I felt like my fish, little John the second, would have felt if he lived in a shot glass. Finally the line started moving, I ate some pizza, talked with some friendly guys from Long Island and the good vibes were flowing again. I was smiling again walking back from dinner, ready to turn the tide again.
One important aspect of tournament is that when someone gets knocked out of your table, someone else gets moved in to take their place. Depending on who this player is and what their style and chip stack is, they alone can affect the overall flow of the table. If the person has a ton of chips or is playing a lot of pots, they immediately demand the respect and attention of the rest of the table. Or sometimes, someone comes to the table and just will not lose a pot. Every hand they enter, they end up raking in chips. Which brings me to....the dude from Austria (yep, another country), who came to our table with a fairly small stack but just started winning pots immediately after he sat down. Which brings me to....the hand I have the most questions about from the day/night. Austrian dude was seated to my left (actually, I was in the 9 seat and he the 1 seat, so the dealer was between us). Blinds were 150 and 300, German dude limps in and I raise it to 1400 with KQ of spades. I'll occasionally just call here, but I think raising is the better play. Austrian guy calls, German dude calls, three of us see the flop with already 4500 in the middle. The flop comes 10 3 2 with all different suits, German dude checks, I bet 2500, the Austrian guy thinks for a bit before calling and the German dude folds. Now, this is the key moment of the hand. I put the Austrian guy on a pair, possibly a big pair but I thought medium pair was more likely, something like 88 or 99. So when the turn came another 10, I had another decision to make. I could check and basically surrender the hand or bet again and force him to figure out if he really had me beat. I went with door #2 and bet 5000. Austrian guy thought even longer this time, I really needed a fold here but he ended up calling. At this point I only had 14,000 left and couldn't bet again. The river was a 7, I checked, he bet 7000 and I had to let it go. He didn't show his hand, but on another night betting again on the turn might have forced a fold and been the right play. Tonight it didn't work out that way. In retrospect I should have checked on the turn and saved 5k in chips, but I'm always going to err on the side of aggression, I just think that's the best style. But tonight, the wind went out of my sails even more after that hand. The icing of the level came when I raised with A 10 (yep, that hand was no good to me) and a middle aged guy who may have smelled bad called out of the small blind. Flop comes Q 10 5 with two diamonds. I bet 1500, he calls. Turn J. Check check. River 6. Check Check. He shows AJ. Of course. I was resembling the Titanic at the last break, down to 9,000 in chips. The question is, could I avoid the iceberg....
The reality of the situation was that I wasn't too keen on barely getting into day 2 because I wouldn't play again until Wednesday and staying in town for another three nights just to come back and play for a few hours short on chips on Wednesday...I mean....not ideal or cool or something I wanted to do to myself. So I was definitely looking for spots to double up early in the last level. I had one pretty early when the possible smelly dude raised to 1500 (blinds at 200/400 now) from middle position and I looked down at 10 10 in the big blind. Now, little know fact, 10 10 and I rarely seem to lose with it and I had enough chips to make him fold if he wasn't too strong. But I opted to just call, the flop came A83, I checked, he bet and I folded. He showed me an ace. I asked if I pushed all in before the flop if he was calling and he said yes. So I dodged elimination there, good news. The bad news of course is that I was down to 7000 in chips and in a heap of trouble. The next orbit, I found AQ and raised it to 1300, I had about 5000 behind. I was planning on callin a re-raise, so when the new guy at the table, who had a mountain of chips and was wearing a sock as a wristband, made it 4000 to go, I didn't think too long before getting the rest of my chips in. Unfortunately, he had AK and I was in bad shape. The turn actually gave me some hope a third club (I had the ace of clubs), but neither a club or a queen hit on the river. And that was that. Nothing you can do but tap the table and wish everyone good luck. I shook a few hands and that was all she wrote. It was a friendly table, I actually liked everyone which is a little rare. Walking out of the room, past all the tables and the spectators was definitely a walk of shame. It's fairly obvious when someone gets up and walks through the room that they have been knocked out of the tournament. I avoided eye contact. It seemed like the right thing to do. I took one last look back as I got to the door. And gone.....
I needed something to cheer me up and I knew where to find it. One ice cream bar later, I felt a lot better. On the cab ride from the Rio to the Mirage, the cab driver commented that it's "fucking hotter here than it is in hell. I'd take hell over this weather." I got a kick out of that.
So that's the story. Quite a day to say the least. Clearly I'm disappointed at how it played out, but sometimes you just can't hit flops and the wheels start to come off a bit and getting things turned around is like trying to stop a Honda Accord from rolling down your friend's driveway when you accidentally left it in drive when you got out. It's just not gonna happen. All the ups and downs, swings good and bad, massive momentum changes with the turn of one card. But that's what I love. It's why I think poker and baseball are so similar. There are so many little things that are going on, little details to keep aware of, but sometimes it's one big play or hand that changes everything. Every game is different and many, many times you are left disappointed but the journey fucking rules and the times you get to the top the view is more wonderful than you could have imagined it. I know I've got the game to go deep in this tournament someday. It's no longer a question of if.....
Also thanks to everyone who wished me well and sent the good vibes. It meant a lot. I wish I could have done a little more. But all the kind words really made me smile. You're alright kids.....
See ya when I see ya,
Adam
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Calm before the Storm
When you were young and just getting started in certain activities, maybe even competitively, the thing that was drilled into your head over and over again was to have fun. I remember the first bad loss I experienced, playing minor league baseball. I was 8 years old and we were getting pounded by another team and I was bumming. Then something happened. I can't really say how or why, but something in me shifted and I came to a realization that I tried to take with me from that day on. I was playing baseball. I was lucky. I loved this game and I loved playing it. I remember smiling to myself and pounding my glove a few times for emphasis. I begun to have fun, even though the game was going horribly. Throughout all the highs and lows of competing and performing, if you really love something then you should have fun doing it. Wins and losses will come and go but the ride is what really counts. Sometimes that is bound to get lost in the shuffle since people have a tendency to focus on results a little too often. And while clearly that matters some, if your journey to the top is lifeless and lacking passion, you are robbing yourself of a truly great life experience. Obviously I would love to make a deep run in this tournament starting tomorrow. But I'm also going to try to step back and enjoy the moment as it is happening, it was quite a road getting here and I owe it myself to go on sensory overload. Sometimes forgotten, yet so simple and so true to life ---
Have fun.
I know I will.
Have fun.
I know I will.
Friday, July 4, 2008
In the middle of the desert, they placed a city
6:16 AM. Hotel room. The Mirage. Las Vegas. I'm at the Mirage. That may have been a mistake from earlier. Not Caesar's. A lot of activity the past few days but I am too damn beat to recount it all now. I have $10,000 less on me than I did when I arrived. It was good to finally get to the cashier's cage and hand that over. That would have been an all-time boner had something happened to that cash.
Table Blue 14, Seat 9. Those are the particulars come 12:00 on Sunday. 20,000 in chips, blinds start at 50 and 100. And each level is two hours long. Man, that is a great structure. I walked around in the tournament area today and being there just felt right. I wasn't a bright eyed kid in a land of candy canes and unicorns. It was a comfortable stroll I took around the room. I'm as ready as I've ever been. Let's see if I can catch lightning.
Also, my room is pretty sick. Spacious, flat screen TV, two extremely comfortable beds (well, I've only laid in one of them). It's absurdly hot outside, 110 degrees or so I think it reached yesterday. Air conditioning, you my only friend. I think I'm gonna put my head to the pillow for a bit.
AJ
Table Blue 14, Seat 9. Those are the particulars come 12:00 on Sunday. 20,000 in chips, blinds start at 50 and 100. And each level is two hours long. Man, that is a great structure. I walked around in the tournament area today and being there just felt right. I wasn't a bright eyed kid in a land of candy canes and unicorns. It was a comfortable stroll I took around the room. I'm as ready as I've ever been. Let's see if I can catch lightning.
Also, my room is pretty sick. Spacious, flat screen TV, two extremely comfortable beds (well, I've only laid in one of them). It's absurdly hot outside, 110 degrees or so I think it reached yesterday. Air conditioning, you my only friend. I think I'm gonna put my head to the pillow for a bit.
AJ
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Randoms
I had a dream last night about someone I haven't seen in a few years. The dream was realistic because she was the same way in the dream as she had been in a real life. Really sweet and funny, but kind of mysterious and evasive. And then you wake up thinking about this person a lot, even though you haven't thought about them at all over the past several months. But now the questions is, do you just let the dream slide by or do you make an effort to reach out and get in touch with the person? I'll probably do nothing because, you know, I'm a coward and all...
Do the birds around the world talk to each other and say, hey let's go to this city, we can do whatever the hell we want and no one cares? It's no secret that I have a bit of a flinching problem, but being in a city where birds will just swoop in out of nowhere is giving me fits. Every time I see movement out of the corner of my eye, a mini-seizure ensues. It's just like in Paris, where the birds were playing target practice with both Will's head and mine, swooping in as close as they could before veering off at the last second. Once I even yelled "Will!" when a bird was headed straight for the huge noggin. He looked up and dove to the ground dramatically at the last second. The bird flew off, and I laughed so hard I peed a little bit. The locals were shaking their head at us by this point.
Where does falling asleep on the bus or subway and missing your stop rank as far as embarrassing life moments go? Probably somewhere between a sex tape showing up on the internet and having to give a speech on ovaltine.
What does it take to get a 60-year old man to start growing a mustache again after 25 years? I've been pestering my dad, but he just won't budge.
If you are the type of person who likes to hug a lot, if you go from half hugging a person for a long time to finally full hugging them, would that moment signal a leap in your friendship if no alcohol is involved?
Not going to the dentist for six years probably isn't the best decision to make if you're concerned about your personal health. And also flossing desperately a couple of nights before you go to the dentist to make up for the countless days of inactivity.....that doesn't fool anyone.
Bi Bi
Do the birds around the world talk to each other and say, hey let's go to this city, we can do whatever the hell we want and no one cares? It's no secret that I have a bit of a flinching problem, but being in a city where birds will just swoop in out of nowhere is giving me fits. Every time I see movement out of the corner of my eye, a mini-seizure ensues. It's just like in Paris, where the birds were playing target practice with both Will's head and mine, swooping in as close as they could before veering off at the last second. Once I even yelled "Will!" when a bird was headed straight for the huge noggin. He looked up and dove to the ground dramatically at the last second. The bird flew off, and I laughed so hard I peed a little bit. The locals were shaking their head at us by this point.
Where does falling asleep on the bus or subway and missing your stop rank as far as embarrassing life moments go? Probably somewhere between a sex tape showing up on the internet and having to give a speech on ovaltine.
What does it take to get a 60-year old man to start growing a mustache again after 25 years? I've been pestering my dad, but he just won't budge.
If you are the type of person who likes to hug a lot, if you go from half hugging a person for a long time to finally full hugging them, would that moment signal a leap in your friendship if no alcohol is involved?
Not going to the dentist for six years probably isn't the best decision to make if you're concerned about your personal health. And also flossing desperately a couple of nights before you go to the dentist to make up for the countless days of inactivity.....that doesn't fool anyone.
Bi Bi
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
The nightmare
It's the first hour of the World Series of Poker, some guy raises from middle position and I call with 8 9 of hearts from the big blind. The flop comes 6 7 10, bells go off and there is dancing inside my head but I play it cool until the river when all our chips go into the pot and I still hold the nuts. The guy has 10 10 for a set of 10s and I turn over my winning straight only to reveal I am holding not the 8 9 of hears, but the 8 6 of hearts. I just got all my chips into the middle with a lowly pair of 6s because I misread my hand. The entire table gives me the open-mouthed looks of disbelief, some are sympathetic, a few are snickering, but the bottom line I am out of the tourney far too early because of my own stupidity. How was this happening? Who knows, but at the worst possible time I had just made the biggest possible mistake.
I had this dream a while back and I've been having variations of it ever since. The weirdest one was when I had an easy call to win a big pot but when I tried to open my mouth, the word "call" wouldn't come out. Eventually the clock ran down and they gave someone else the pot because my mouth didn't work. Then my voice came back AFTER then hand was over and I tried telling them that I tried to say call but couldn't and they all gave me the "he must be from an institution" look.
I'm not crazy.
I had this dream a while back and I've been having variations of it ever since. The weirdest one was when I had an easy call to win a big pot but when I tried to open my mouth, the word "call" wouldn't come out. Eventually the clock ran down and they gave someone else the pot because my mouth didn't work. Then my voice came back AFTER then hand was over and I tried telling them that I tried to say call but couldn't and they all gave me the "he must be from an institution" look.
I'm not crazy.
Vacation, all I ever wanted
Today will go down as the day I heard Wolff say the word itinerary 19 times. It will go down as the day I tried unsuccessfully to capture giant fish with a disposable camera. It will go down as the day I came three seconds from telling a cab driver, "Dude, tune it back a notch." Almost running over a jogger will bring you to that point. It will go down as the day of magical cookies consuming and Dolores (Mulva) Park lounging. And it will go down as a day old friends fell right back into the familiar rhythm of life and laughter.
Cubs 9, Giants 2. There was that also.
Can every day be like this one please?
Cubs 9, Giants 2. There was that also.
Can every day be like this one please?
Sunday, June 29, 2008
The Friendly Skies
Maybe it's not the best of ideas to board a plane with $11,000 in cash stuffed in an envelope in your pants packet in your duffel bag. It's also not the best idea to drink your own urine. But Patches O'Houlihan does it anyway because it tastes good and makes him sterile. That's kind of my rationale for traveling with an obscene (for me) amount of cash on me when a cashier's check would probably be 22 times safer. But I mean, did anyone really expect anything else?
The last load of laundry is being done as I write this and just about all the T-shirts will be on display at the Series for as deep as I can go. The Garnett jersey is avoiding me and the Sikkow shirt has way too many holes in it after 12 years, but most everything else is available. The beard will be trimmed to the best of my abilities, Johnson will be flown out for maintenance purposes when ESPN wants to do their puff piece. I've a room at Caesar's Palace for three nights, the 3rd, 4th, and 5th, with two queen beds, so yeah I've got space available. If you're reading this, you're invited. Or I could go down as the only friendless player at the Series. Maybe that's the angle I can play up. I wanted to play in the Series so I could make some friends. That just might be sad enough to make the cut.....
Ding.
Ding.
Thank you Denver. City by the Bay. John Denver.
I'll take the City by the Bay. Sun Country, take me away.
More from San Francisco, with guest poster Nicholas J. Wolff, making his triumphant return to blogging after his unceremonious removal last year.
So it goes...
The last load of laundry is being done as I write this and just about all the T-shirts will be on display at the Series for as deep as I can go. The Garnett jersey is avoiding me and the Sikkow shirt has way too many holes in it after 12 years, but most everything else is available. The beard will be trimmed to the best of my abilities, Johnson will be flown out for maintenance purposes when ESPN wants to do their puff piece. I've a room at Caesar's Palace for three nights, the 3rd, 4th, and 5th, with two queen beds, so yeah I've got space available. If you're reading this, you're invited. Or I could go down as the only friendless player at the Series. Maybe that's the angle I can play up. I wanted to play in the Series so I could make some friends. That just might be sad enough to make the cut.....
Ding.
Ding.
Thank you Denver. City by the Bay. John Denver.
I'll take the City by the Bay. Sun Country, take me away.
More from San Francisco, with guest poster Nicholas J. Wolff, making his triumphant return to blogging after his unceremonious removal last year.
So it goes...
Thursday, June 26, 2008
So it begins
In trying to think of all the ways to communcate , why, with who, when, where and how absurdly ridiculous it all went down, this seemed to be the best way. This blog might run up until Saturday July 5th at around 2 PM. That would be one pathetic final post if that's the case. If the last post is on Tuesday July 15th at 3 AM, my life will probably be forever changed. We are 2,000 light years away from that moment right now.
I'm just so happy I'm playing. Man....
I'm just so happy I'm playing. Man....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)