“MotherFUCKER!” he yells, when he sees the board, “You made me fold pocket 9s! I situs online won!”

Sure enough he would’ve flopped a set. By my accouting, that means I played the hand exactly right, but Slow saw it otherwise.

It’s difficult to say exactly what happened for the next 20 minutes or so because, again, Slow is hard to understand, but I do know he wanted to fight.

I tried to diffuse the situation. So did the dealer, the other 8 people at our table, the 10 people at the other table and the game host. Frankly, if there’s anything the host wants LESS than he wants some jackass taking his player’s money… its a fist fight… or worse.

Slow storms off again.

Slowly.

A CROSSROADS

I haven’t posted here in some time. In part, it’s because I’ve been playing fairly well lately. Moreso, it’s because I’ve been winning at a rather incredible (and admittedly unsustainable) rate for MONTHS. I’m careful about thinking I’ve become a decent player because I know success doesn’t always mean skill… not in the short term anyway.

Besides, of all the G-Vegas bloggers, I am still BY FAR the worst player.

It just so happens that outside of our own poker circle there are literally hundreds of really really really HORRIBLE players who have a seemingly endless supply of OPTIMISM. I have a hard time passing that up.

By comparison, TheMark’s brother hosts a very nice $200NL game on Monday nights. No rake, great room, almost no risk of getting busted or stabbed… but the players always include The Mark, The Rick, Blood, Otis, and myself. Throw in a MAXIMUM of 2 or 3 donkeys and you have a VERY tough table.

I can win a little, I hope, but the money will NEVER be nearly as good.

It reminds me of my best friend from back in college.

About midway through my junior year my buddy started growing pot… really… really… really GOOD pot. As a result he started making a LOT of untaxed cash. He rented a huge house and filled it with every gigantic and fancy electonic gadget known to man. He was the king of Lexington and everyone wanted a piece.

I remember asking him once, right before graduation, when he planned to give it up. Kinda weird now that I think about it. He said, “Pot isn’t really addictive, I’m not worried about quitting when I decide it’s time”

But I wasn’t worried about the pot… I was worried about the cash.

Nothing is more addictive than cash.

So here’s one of the smartest and most ambitious guys I know, still unemployed and still risking a few dozen years in prison… for the cash he can’t give up. Sad really.

I never grew weed. And I missed out on most of the great trips and cool toys back in the day. Still, I’m pretty comfortable with the decision I made.

It isn’t a moral decision really, but a question of SATISFACTION.

When people asked this kid what he wanted to be one day… “stoner” was never the answer.

But I wonder if I’m near that threshold with the “Spring Hotel.”

It IS a dangerous game. The risk of getting busted is constant. Otis, Blood and I have all wondered at various times if the game was fixed.

But I LOOOOVE that cash.

VEGAS

Speaking of cash, as I wrap up the rambling nonsense, I’m BOOKED for Las Vegas.

I’m there August 2 thru August 6.

Look me up if you’ll be in town.