I did have real thoughts, and a real post to produce for my non-readers. But instead I decided that a bottle of Hawkeye, some Mountain Dew, and some Wii Golf would be a better use of my time.
I've been very busy lately. I've joined the Campus Newspaper here. Its alright but I'm a little rusty with writing for a newspaper, as opposed to writing here or for fun. They teach you to write for newspapers by only using two to three short sentences per paragraph.
I had a sociology test today. It's pretty hard stuff if you're not paying attention. Hell, I pay attention in class, and I still had to do a pretty good amount of studying. Time will tell what my grade on that one is.
I've played a lot of blackjack lately, heads up against the dealer when I can find an empty table. I played six shoes the other night on $30 at a $5 min table, and made $50. It was more fun than anything, relearning my basic strategy.
That and I'm trying to figure out if I can make it to SXSW over spring break. I could use the time in the warm weather. That's all for now. Peace.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Temper, Temper
Exhibit A: Blackjack Tournament
It was the final hand of the quarterfinals, the top two from my table advancing to the semifinals. I was in second place by just a few chips, a couple hundred or so, not much in the grand scheme of things. The third place stack (which will, for the purposes of this story, be referred to as 'G') and I were close and the fourth place guy had no chance. The first place person had bet very few chips, not enough to lose to both of us, but not enough to beat both of us. It was G and I. I bet first enough to cover a both-lose situation. He had the advantage of seeing what I was going to do. I knew what he was going to do. He went all in, and with a win and he had me beat no matter what.
The first place guy got a blackjack, he was in for sure. I drew a 14, him a 15, and the dealer showed a 10. I thought I had to hit: if I hit and get a low card, I'm taking a low card away from him; if I bust, he still has to hit assuming there's another 10 under there. I hit and take a nine, and bust. G thought for two or three minutes (it sure seemed like more than that) and finally stayed. It was such a ballsy move, and I give him all the credit in the world. The dealer flipped up a 6, hit and bust, and it was over. He won.
It was over.
Or not. He was so excited he got up and ran around. Meanwhile, the dealer was still paying him off. And apparently, that's a no-no.
Rule 20: No player shall leave the table until the round is over or shall forfeit the tournament. The round is not complete until all chips are counted by the dealer and winners are officially determined. (Italics added by me.)
First he was declared winner because of passing the previous first place winner by a few chips. The man in fourth place (god bless him) brought up the rule to the man in charge. All the head people huddled together to try and figure out what happened. None of them had seen it well, so they went to security.
G came up to me, at least as close as he could. Security was hangin around trying to calm him down. He was yelling at me from across the table. "You don't even know the rules. I've been to all kinds of these things. I know what I'm doing. You don't have a clue." Sounded a lot like something you'd hear Hellmuth say on TV.
The time passed. Five, ten, fifteen minutes. I wasn't the one stressed out. G was flippin out on security and everyone now. And his wife was worse. She came up to me while I was sitting, waiting patiently for the decision. And she went off.
"Why do you have to be such a sore loser? You're never gonna get anywhere in life with that kind of attitude. You didn't even know the smallest rules during the game. You had to get help from this guy..."
Now at that point, I was kinda tired of getting yelled at. I had two options: either stay calm, or flip out on them. I chose to stay calm. It was probably a wise choice. He probably could have kicked my ass. He was a big guy.
The floor came back 23 minutes after the round was over. I had been paying pretty close attention to my watch. He was disqualified. I was in. I immediately walked away. I figured I probably didn't want any part of the explosion to come.
I could see him from my seat in the poker room. It was a lot of pointing, yelling, a lot of hand gestures. Surprisingly, no birds. I could see him and his wife both yelling and other people playing at the tables staring at them trying to figure out what the ruckus was.
My mom says I have ugly temper. I tend to disagree. Exhibit A.
It was the final hand of the quarterfinals, the top two from my table advancing to the semifinals. I was in second place by just a few chips, a couple hundred or so, not much in the grand scheme of things. The third place stack (which will, for the purposes of this story, be referred to as 'G') and I were close and the fourth place guy had no chance. The first place person had bet very few chips, not enough to lose to both of us, but not enough to beat both of us. It was G and I. I bet first enough to cover a both-lose situation. He had the advantage of seeing what I was going to do. I knew what he was going to do. He went all in, and with a win and he had me beat no matter what.
The first place guy got a blackjack, he was in for sure. I drew a 14, him a 15, and the dealer showed a 10. I thought I had to hit: if I hit and get a low card, I'm taking a low card away from him; if I bust, he still has to hit assuming there's another 10 under there. I hit and take a nine, and bust. G thought for two or three minutes (it sure seemed like more than that) and finally stayed. It was such a ballsy move, and I give him all the credit in the world. The dealer flipped up a 6, hit and bust, and it was over. He won.
It was over.
Or not. He was so excited he got up and ran around. Meanwhile, the dealer was still paying him off. And apparently, that's a no-no.
Rule 20: No player shall leave the table until the round is over or shall forfeit the tournament. The round is not complete until all chips are counted by the dealer and winners are officially determined. (Italics added by me.)
First he was declared winner because of passing the previous first place winner by a few chips. The man in fourth place (god bless him) brought up the rule to the man in charge. All the head people huddled together to try and figure out what happened. None of them had seen it well, so they went to security.
G came up to me, at least as close as he could. Security was hangin around trying to calm him down. He was yelling at me from across the table. "You don't even know the rules. I've been to all kinds of these things. I know what I'm doing. You don't have a clue." Sounded a lot like something you'd hear Hellmuth say on TV.
The time passed. Five, ten, fifteen minutes. I wasn't the one stressed out. G was flippin out on security and everyone now. And his wife was worse. She came up to me while I was sitting, waiting patiently for the decision. And she went off.
"Why do you have to be such a sore loser? You're never gonna get anywhere in life with that kind of attitude. You didn't even know the smallest rules during the game. You had to get help from this guy..."
Now at that point, I was kinda tired of getting yelled at. I had two options: either stay calm, or flip out on them. I chose to stay calm. It was probably a wise choice. He probably could have kicked my ass. He was a big guy.
The floor came back 23 minutes after the round was over. I had been paying pretty close attention to my watch. He was disqualified. I was in. I immediately walked away. I figured I probably didn't want any part of the explosion to come.
I could see him from my seat in the poker room. It was a lot of pointing, yelling, a lot of hand gestures. Surprisingly, no birds. I could see him and his wife both yelling and other people playing at the tables staring at them trying to figure out what the ruckus was.
My mom says I have ugly temper. I tend to disagree. Exhibit A.
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