A Toast to Skill

What is skill? And more to the point, where can one find it?

I did not find it in a mouse...the mouse that's made it's way into my car's battery compartment shitting all over the microfilter, leaving it's wake of stinkass ammonia behind...

I did not find it in a house...at least not in the Blair House this week, where all I heard was the same old bluster and hustle of the venal and vain who collect their own free taxpayer-funded socialized Viagra (Boehner wasn't outside smoking, he was in the stalls, shtupping!)

I did not find it in my drain...nothing but a few old soggy lettuce leaves, from the detritus of long gone dinner.

I did not find it in the rain...all I caught that day was a cold, that a full week later leaves me hacking all night and waking the neighbors.

I thought I found it in the bass...but no, the Rolling Stones declined to keep me on speed dial when Bill Wyman checked out to marry yet another 16 year old.

I thought I'd check again, just in case.

Ah, there you are.

Skill...oh mystifying skill, the ability to read not only your hand, but the play of your opponents. Knowing when the 4-bet shove with cards lacking paint, because you've studied and learned, and applied those lessons well. That one weaktight jackhole who won't go to war with anything short of Kings, and will lay down to a turn of the screws. Ah, there you are.

Is poker a sport? I dunno, maybe once lime tossing and beer pong have been awarded full Olympic status, and not only for hashing out negotiations between bent figure skating judges, but I digress.

What poker is, is a game of great skill, taking months to gain one's feet, often years to play truly well, and a lifetime to master. The game is always changing, nearly as often as a deck is shuffled or a chipstack riffled. New games, new playing styles, ever morphing and evolving. Rewarding, yes, but always a challenge, always, which is why playing poker is clearly a game of skill'