Monday, February 14, 2011


If there is one thing that always frustrates me about cash games, its watching a player spew chips and when I finally get a crack at the fountain, he draws out. But this is not a bad-beat complaint. No, rather my inability to spew small amounts of pre-flop chips in order to trap people with boats made with Q2o. Yet, across the table is a guy who saw 3 turns all night. Each time he had a boar. And each time the other player with a pair would keep betting into him and paying him off.

I remember now what I love about tournaments. You cant just sit there and spew chips hoping for the perfect flop one day.

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