Wednesday, 10 March 2010

The last few months have been frustrating. I hated having to play so low, splitting tables, and never getting a real run going. But I knew I'd get back up there. And yesterday, thanks to the generosity of my nemesis Cole and Hastings, I did it.

I feel like a fighter pilot or an orchestra conductor when I've six tables going and the mouse is flying all over, click click click, each decision for tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars. Just totally in the zone, my pure poker consciousness; some innate level of thinking. I mean, it feels almost like I'm a puppet on a string, I don't know where some of my plays come from. I just seem to know what to do: when to bluff, when to call, what they've got. Sometimes even what cards will come next.

I finally crashed out at 5am. When I woke up and saw $1.5m more in my account than I'd had the day before, you might think I felt elated, ecstatic, victorious, all-conquering. But the truth is I didn't feel much. I mean, I'm happy, but it was more a quiet contentment than an overwhelming joy. I'm where I want to be, and now I have the freedom to play whoever I want, as high as I want, and for as long as I want. But I'm still $6m down from my peak.

And I still don't have my own place. I'm thinking of cashing out a few hundred grand and getting somewhere to live. At 1am last night when I was six-tabling Hastings, my mother banged on my door and screamed at me to turn my music down. Momentarily distracted, I called a $100k all-in by mistake.

This morning as we were eating Surströmming for breakfast she told me I looked pale, my eyes bloodshot, my skin stretched. She said I looked like a corpse: and no wonder, since I spent all my time indoors on the computer. She asked again why I had to dye my hair black. I think she thinks I might be gay. I told her I did it because black is how I feel on the inside. She told me to get a job. I went back to my room, looked out of the window - another grey day in Uddevalla - drew the curtains, sat back down at $500/$1000, and waited for the game to begin again.


  1. Kudos man.

    this is fkn hilarious.

  2. omg i love you

  3. OMG you sound like a 18 year old boy
    Get a job!
    I mean you dont understand life!
    It's not clicking a mouse and do decisions
    for some 100k's. Thats not the real life.
    In my opinion you are an idiot, nothing else who lost the reality and the meaning of money and sure you need a 7 million department. For what?? That all know here lives "The Great Nobody" Dreamer wake up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  4. Hey Insyderrr.. do you understand poker? Because even though there is some truth in your words (as he has lost sight of his "real" life during periods), it is still a skillgame and thus has 2 big things to play for;
    - The game part and being the best at what you do
    - Winning money

    I dont see why either would be a problem as a reason to play. Let the man play, some of us actually enjoy his story, on and off the felt. Any1 who has played poker seriously knows the way other people think about it and I for one understand their view, but the way you try to make a point across actually resembles a boy more then this entire blog does.