tomorrow may come, tomorrow may never come
I got eliminated from the main event because I got stupid. That's really what it comes down to. I got stupid, made two total rookie mistakes that I know not to make, and didn't even make it to the third level. I was the sucker. I was the dead money. I was the idiot who shouldn't even be on Celebrity Poker Showdown, because he fell in love with top pair twice early on in a deep stack tournament. And called off all his chips. Twice. Fucking. Idiot.
The worst part of the whole thing is that I completely beat myself. I wasn't trapped, or tricked, or masterfully outplayed; I just got stupid and made two completely fucking idiotic donkey moves. I played like a stupid fucking celebrity poker player.
I'm disgusted with myself. I let myself down, and I feel like I let PokerStars down (even though my friends who I work for and with will tell me that I shouldn't beat myself up about it, we all know I screwed up.)
I fucked up every time it mattered in this year's World Series, in every event I played. I completely choked in the 2K and in the Main Event, and I didn't have the balls to make a move when I needed to in the 1K.
Well, I have at least a year to think about it, but I only have about twenty minutes before I go back to the Rio and write about people who actually know what they're doing.
The worst part of the whole thing is that I completely beat myself. I wasn't trapped, or tricked, or masterfully outplayed; I just got stupid and made two completely fucking idiotic donkey moves. I played like a stupid fucking celebrity poker player.
I'm disgusted with myself. I let myself down, and I feel like I let PokerStars down (even though my friends who I work for and with will tell me that I shouldn't beat myself up about it, we all know I screwed up.)
I fucked up every time it mattered in this year's World Series, in every event I played. I completely choked in the 2K and in the Main Event, and I didn't have the balls to make a move when I needed to in the 1K.
Well, I have at least a year to think about it, but I only have about twenty minutes before I go back to the Rio and write about people who actually know what they're doing.
posted by Wil Wheaton at 10:43 AM
2 Comments:
Sometimes, no matter how much we prepare, or hope, or study, we just can't do it. But it's no use beatting yourself up about it, as long as you've learned from your mistake. Not the pair thing, of course - I can't pretend I know exactly what you mean! But just learning that sometimes, we're just not into it, and it doesn't work out. And that's that.
Hey, at least you got some good stories out of it. Actually, you've done some amazing writing lately, so, kudos!
I'm living vicariously through the team blog updates over at the pokerstars blog... loving all the writers' works.
since it doesn't allow comments there... on behalf of other 'press photographers'...
"..and the rudest photographer I've ever seen in my life shoved his way between me and Pauly, then bumped the ESPN camera, then blocked someone who was already set up to take a photo. Good work, dude. On behalf of all the writers here, I'd like to applaud your professionalism and courtesy."
Yeah, we hate that type too. At the VH1 STM event on friday, we were conspiring using the cocktail shiskabob sticks to spear the journalist that decided the nice rope line didn't apply to him on the arrival carpet and proceeded to block everyone else's shot.
a loud and cranky "down in front" usually tells them they pissed everyone behind them off, for future reference. :o)
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