Well, on the soul, the effect is amazing. Of course, there's more fish in a single $5k 10+1 MTT on Bodog than even swimming around Nantucket Island, which is why my button 3-bet shove got called by K9 offsuit out of position, and my flop shove got called by the same K9o holding nothing but one over to the board and a gutshot(preflop), only to get rivered by the gutshot (which naturally, hit on the river...which I should probably call ocean for tonight).
Funny thing is, I don't have the first ounce of tilt in me. Nantucket is s'awes.
Now that I'm back, we'll see how the poker games treat me, but I've never felt as at ease in life as I do right now (the near calamitous near miss flying into Denver aside, that is). Fun times when you're on final approach, and mere few hundred feet above the runway when you have to make an emergency pullup because a plane taking off in front of you didn't clear the runway. The pilots did a great job, though...sadly, the baggage handlers weren't at the same level of capability, as nobody knows where the hell the Good Doctor Mondo's luggage is. Fortunately, everything that mattered was in the carry-on.
Now my SB 4.8x big blind squeeze raise got called by K9s and get this...K8o, and my pocket tens were no g00t, obviously. I can see that I'm not going to win a thing tonight, but I'm collecting lots of notes on fish! And yet, still no tilt. Why? Well, the shirt says it all...
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