Voy Por Ustedes

Boomp3.com

It's September as we speak. I hate September. It may be twenty years since I left school but September still reminds me of starting school again after wonderfully long summers where it was actually summer and didn't piss down with rain every day.

A wonderfully innocent age where we could play where ever we chose without our parents disproportion hysteria over the presence of grotty men in rain coats armed with cute puppies and Werthers Originals. Summers right out of Enid Blyton's books just without the zeitgeist racism.

So I think my current feeling of ennui and melancholic aspect is partly due to my latent dislike of September but also my anti-climactic departure from the WCOAP main-event on Saturday. I used a defecating metaphor to describe the week's events in a previous blog, and how appropriate it was as I played totally shit for the few hours I was involved and my play stunk the table up.

I began the week hitting a straight flush against a dude's Ace high flush and ended my week losing to the same hand. I had no business being in the hand in the first place however so cannot bemoan my misfortune as the poor chap on the receiving end of that hand when I held it in the Omaha event could.

In real terms and in my defense though I did not see any cards. Ace-Queen was the best hand I got to see and had to fold that after the dude next to me re-raised and the small blind re-re-raised.

I was then bluffed off a pot by a Tottenham supporter which I won't ever recover from emotionally and from that point on I was resigned to my fate and sank to me knees during the break in one of the toilet cubicles to ask the good lord why he had forsaken me, only to then realise I had left the door open and the little man on the stool by the sink who hands you paper towels was watching me with a look of intrigue and fear in his eyes.

It's a series of occurrences like this that make me wonder some time whether I know anything about Texas Hold 'em at all. I was forced to accept after reading Stu Ungar's autobiography that there's only been a handful of dude's ever who can really play the no limit game and the rest of us are just pretending, but sometimes I have to take myself off to a quiet place and ask myself some searching questions about whether I'm even pretending to pretend. I think you know what I'm trying to say.

There is just the smallest chance that I'm being too hard on myself. It's true of course as we all know that skill and guile and aggression and all those other skills that make up the best poker players are all well and good, but combined they're still subordinate to the whims and fickle desires of the poker gods and for whatever reason, the last thing on their minds this weekend was for me to get even the slightest sniff of victory. I'll sleep better if I can make myself believe this to be true anyway. Some days it's just not your day.

I believe it's the new Fox season tomorrow. I shall begin my campaign with a solid start despite it being a £10 re-buy which means relieving the wallet of about £200 is fairly standard and will leave me having to win it to make any money. It's the glory I need though....a confidence booster. If you can win in that place you can win anywhere that's what I always say.


In other news I've just been watching CNN. It looks like another hurricane is on it's way to N'Awlins. Those poor dudes. There's a freaky evangelist in the US of States by the name of James Dobson, he asked his mentalist believers to pray to the good lord for a storm last week so Barack Obama wouldn't be able to give his speech accepting his nomination for the Presidency.

Very Christian of him that. Quite happen to see a bunch of people die just to postpone a speech that would be made one way or another.

Irony of ironies though he's getting his storm, but it's hitting New Orleans again not Denver and three years to the day after Katrina destroyed the place and it's due to land on the opening day of the Republican Party Convention - the very day on which George Dubya Bush was due to give a speech. If God exists, he's got an awesome sense of humour and irony and he's most definitely not a Republican.

As acts of Providence go this one is well over due. If that awful gathering of the most evil men on the planet and that crazy bitch Sarah Palin can't have their four yearly opportunity to scare the Mercan people shitless and get them all believing Al-Qaeda is everywhere and so they damned well better vote for the white dude with the most money stowed away for the military's upcoming destruction of any one sporting a beard and flip flops - then it is just possible this election will be impossible for even the Democrats to lose.

They need all the help they can get, cause however I may have ran bad at the Vic, these dudes take the piss in elections. They somehow managed to allow Richard Nixon to win, for George Bush senior to win even though everyone was sick to the stomach of Reagan by picking Michael Dukakis as their nominee.

Even when they win they lose. Al Gore never got over that one and is currently a fat man who's totally lost his marbles and thinks the planet will blow up some time in October.

These people would lose if America was a communist country and they were the ruling party. Come on now donkeys, one time.

You'll notice that I care about this election. I care more about this election than our own as our own parliament is completely redundant now. Much as progeny are obliged to take care of their aging mater and paterfamilias' upon their retirement, we are now obliged to Merca - our own rebellious progeny - to take care of us and I cannot conceive the horrors of having John McCain take care of us for the next four years.

Those four years will be our last I can promise you that. By this time in 2012 our standing in the world will be beneath Finland's and we'll pass Belgium and Burkino Faso on the way down to the constitutional basement.