So I'm still reeling over Annie Duke's loss on Celebrity Apprentice.
I'd expect at this point, slightly more than 24 hours after the final termination ensued, that I would have returned from planet Trump and his kingdom of celebrity scuffles back to the actual reality of the world. Unfortunately, this is not case, primarily due to Annie's treatment in the second half of the season, which I see as undeniably vicious.
What respect and admiration I once had for the legendary Joan Rivers dissolved with each disturbing personal attack, leg-kicking tantrum and raving tirade that amounted only to verbal diarrhea. She continuously berated an accomplished, self-made, and intelligent mother of four who just so happens to have earned a WSOP bracelet.
I kept hearing from Rivers that the show was supposed to be about the charities, in fact this might be the only thing the two would agree on, so why would hatred towards a fellow successful woman, albeit in a very different field, though none-the-less equal in her display of determination and hard-work benefit charity? (Let's not forget that Joan managed to squeeze in the time to alienate an entire demographic of people, of which did nothing to deserve or provoke such nauseating disrespect.)
The Duchess of Poker held her own throughout though; real poker royalty. She showed true dignity and self worth, she defended her friends loyally and raised a crap load of money for her charity: Refugees International.
I think the poker world had some luck in having Annie Duke represent us in such a major way. The loss may be a thorn in my side, but she did her very best. Next season we should give Joan and her fans what they want, two words: Mike Matusow.
Del
P.S. Annie makes a very interesting point in her latest blog regarding her firing dished out by Trump and its deviating design as compared to past seasons.
Showing posts with label Poker Gods. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poker Gods. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Dealer Distress
Why is it, I wonder, that players come to the felt with a fight to pick?
Try convincing yourself that it's your 'image' or that you're somehow psyching someone out or putting someone on tilt...truth is - you're a giant asshole.
Pick a fight with me around at felt and you'll get nothing but frustrated. Scream, yell, call names or splash the pot and the only reaction I'll give you is a light chuckle and maybe a bad beat story. Being a bully, especially an obnoxious one, takes a great deal of effort and energy; energy I'd rather spend focusing on the hand - which is exactly what I'll do.
Much like anything though, there is an exception - don't mess with my dealer!
I have a few friends that deal for a living, one such friend I've known since high school and keep still keep contact with regularly. Sometimes the stories I hear are pretty disturbing. I'm glad I chose to be a player, although I thought about becoming a dealer briefly in my past, (before I found out how much they make), and have always had the ultimate respect for the people that make the game I love go so much smoother as well as lending an air of class to it. This is exactly why I will not tolerate anyone berating a dealer at my table.
Let's remember that these people are at work, so they can't even fight back. It's like picking a fist-fight with a guy that has no arms - pathetic. Start laying into my dealer and you've just made an enemy; one that will fight back. Perhaps its not the dealer that is at fault because you chased a flush to the river or another player hit trips that you didn't think to consider on the turn. Blaming others for your own inadequacies - real nice; grow up. I just hope I can bust you before their cycle is up so they can see you squirm.
Now let's face it - some dealers are terrible. Calling the wrong winners, counting chips incorrectly and so on, but for the most part - they're just doing there job and don't need YOU to tell them how to do it better or differently. If something they are doing bothers you, move tables.
I'm not too religious, but I have a good feeling towards Karma. That's why I always tip my waitresses well in restaurants, leave my towels in one pile for the housekeepers in hotels and treat my dealers with respect.
The Poker Gods are always watching after all.
Del
Try convincing yourself that it's your 'image' or that you're somehow psyching someone out or putting someone on tilt...truth is - you're a giant asshole.
Pick a fight with me around at felt and you'll get nothing but frustrated. Scream, yell, call names or splash the pot and the only reaction I'll give you is a light chuckle and maybe a bad beat story. Being a bully, especially an obnoxious one, takes a great deal of effort and energy; energy I'd rather spend focusing on the hand - which is exactly what I'll do.
Much like anything though, there is an exception - don't mess with my dealer!
I have a few friends that deal for a living, one such friend I've known since high school and keep still keep contact with regularly. Sometimes the stories I hear are pretty disturbing. I'm glad I chose to be a player, although I thought about becoming a dealer briefly in my past, (before I found out how much they make), and have always had the ultimate respect for the people that make the game I love go so much smoother as well as lending an air of class to it. This is exactly why I will not tolerate anyone berating a dealer at my table.
Let's remember that these people are at work, so they can't even fight back. It's like picking a fist-fight with a guy that has no arms - pathetic. Start laying into my dealer and you've just made an enemy; one that will fight back. Perhaps its not the dealer that is at fault because you chased a flush to the river or another player hit trips that you didn't think to consider on the turn. Blaming others for your own inadequacies - real nice; grow up. I just hope I can bust you before their cycle is up so they can see you squirm.
Now let's face it - some dealers are terrible. Calling the wrong winners, counting chips incorrectly and so on, but for the most part - they're just doing there job and don't need YOU to tell them how to do it better or differently. If something they are doing bothers you, move tables.
I'm not too religious, but I have a good feeling towards Karma. That's why I always tip my waitresses well in restaurants, leave my towels in one pile for the housekeepers in hotels and treat my dealers with respect.
The Poker Gods are always watching after all.
Del
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Lou: Poker God Extraordinaire
The poker gods; who are they and how do I get on their good side?
I think these poker gods we hear so much about around the felt rule with a more swift and mighty fist than any god the Christians or Muslims could conger up. I’ve prayed many times to these ‘poker gods’ in moments of weakness. Lately, just one in particular though. I call him Lou. Lou and I have an understanding.
As in any god-worshiper relationship, the higher power knows more, but I feel sufficiently knowledgeable as well...
I understand that poker is all about the long run, and realize that, in that long run - I will witness some amazing circumstances. For example, if I am dead to a one-outer on the river - I know unequivocally that I am staring 1% right in the eye. Now would be a situation that I would call up ol’ Lou.
“Lou! It’s me, I’ve got a situation here. I know that I’m screwed, I mean really dead here. But do I have to bust for this guy? Give me this one! Please, Please, Please !! I had good intentions - who would have thought he would hold onto J-9 off?”
Lou’s pretty predicable right about now. In this 1% situation, he gives it to the prick with the straight about 99 times out of 100. BUT - every so often, let’s call it 1% of the time…Lou gives it to me. Right when I need it the most, just as Mr. Jack-Nine reaches for the pot, BANG. My one-outer turns the tables and I prevail.
That right, the poker gods are big on the math. Perhaps it seems sometimes like the river rats rule the world and chasing straights to the river are sure things, rewarding every schmoe around me.
But I know Lou too well for that.
Just because a shocking river-flush for example, breaks my pocket aces I needn’t worry. It’s not the first time and sure as hell won’t be the last, but on the grand scale I will win more often for every bad beat in the same or similar situations. This session today, this week, this month, this year and next - overall the numbers are my god. They are the only real truth in a game of bluffs, tells, and tilts.
It’s nice sometimes to think that by hoping and praying for that one card in the deck to come out, that it will. But all my prayers will need to be filed appropriately with Lou’s secretary whereas they will be addressed in the order in which they’ve been received. And even then - Ol’ Swift Justice Lou will simply do the math and move onto the next hand.
-Delik
I think these poker gods we hear so much about around the felt rule with a more swift and mighty fist than any god the Christians or Muslims could conger up. I’ve prayed many times to these ‘poker gods’ in moments of weakness. Lately, just one in particular though. I call him Lou. Lou and I have an understanding.
As in any god-worshiper relationship, the higher power knows more, but I feel sufficiently knowledgeable as well...
I understand that poker is all about the long run, and realize that, in that long run - I will witness some amazing circumstances. For example, if I am dead to a one-outer on the river - I know unequivocally that I am staring 1% right in the eye. Now would be a situation that I would call up ol’ Lou.
“Lou! It’s me, I’ve got a situation here. I know that I’m screwed, I mean really dead here. But do I have to bust for this guy? Give me this one! Please, Please, Please !! I had good intentions - who would have thought he would hold onto J-9 off?”
Lou’s pretty predicable right about now. In this 1% situation, he gives it to the prick with the straight about 99 times out of 100. BUT - every so often, let’s call it 1% of the time…Lou gives it to me. Right when I need it the most, just as Mr. Jack-Nine reaches for the pot, BANG. My one-outer turns the tables and I prevail.
That right, the poker gods are big on the math. Perhaps it seems sometimes like the river rats rule the world and chasing straights to the river are sure things, rewarding every schmoe around me.
But I know Lou too well for that.
Just because a shocking river-flush for example, breaks my pocket aces I needn’t worry. It’s not the first time and sure as hell won’t be the last, but on the grand scale I will win more often for every bad beat in the same or similar situations. This session today, this week, this month, this year and next - overall the numbers are my god. They are the only real truth in a game of bluffs, tells, and tilts.
It’s nice sometimes to think that by hoping and praying for that one card in the deck to come out, that it will. But all my prayers will need to be filed appropriately with Lou’s secretary whereas they will be addressed in the order in which they’ve been received. And even then - Ol’ Swift Justice Lou will simply do the math and move onto the next hand.
-Delik
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
