What might have been . . .
There was a hand on ESPN’s coverage of the World Series of Poker last night that I found interesting. It was an wonderful example of how the flip of a coin can decide the fate of the players, making one player a champion while another walks away asking himself why.
Mike raises with a pair of 10’s and Medic raises pot with AJ off. If mike wins, he a huge chip leader and Nenad out of the out. Sexton is a 57% favorite. The flop comes up with an ace, and another ace on the turn, and Mike is crippled. Mike was eliminated the next hand and Nenad goes on to win.
This is the frustration over Hold’em, more so than most games. You are forced to eventually call off all your chips and hope that someone or something up in the heavens points its finger down to the deck. It can be such a high/low extreme, I wonder how professional poker players stay sane.
Remember a couple of years ago when Mike Matusow had poker kings at the first hand of the final table at the WSOP main event? The high from getting poker kings came to a low when he found out he was against poker Scott Lazur’s aces. But then he’s dealt a king of the flop and his back to a huge high! But there was two hearts on the board and Scott had the ace of hearts. Runner, runner hearts and Mike is crippled. How low can you go?
It’s just a cruel game. So people ask if there is a God, I ask if there are gods, poker gods, who love to laugh. I won’t bother you with my bad beat stories, for we’ve all been there, but when you’re a huge favorite with no chance to lose, you lose. That’s someone fucking with you.
The thing is, it can be one uncontrollable flop, turn or river that can make you a superstar or just another wanna-be. I will say that Mike handled himself like a true gentleman when he got beat. He did mumble, “I can’t win a race to save my life.” But understandably so.
How we all hate luck when it’s against us and love luck when it’s for us.
