Open letter to the egoist

So you can tell early in a tournament when someone's overplaying their pocket nines on a board with an overcard. Maybe you paired the overcard. Maybe you smoothcalled with ace large and you catch on the turn. You stack a fool and you feel good.

You see the stall from your opponent when an ace hits the turn and smell the bluff. You raise that ass... Seeing your opponent take time and eventually cave gives you power.

You overcall the min-raise from the guy under the gun with a big pair and wait for the pot to come to you.

You're intuitive and you have the experience to detect. You have the balls to take that pot away from the weak pair with your deuce trey from the BB. You have the sense to hold off and wait for YOUR spot.

You play your game - not their game. You are in control.

Good for you.

You're not a pro. You're not special.

Just don't tell me how good you are. Don't tell me your name. Don't wear sunglasses with a thousand dollar name on the side. Actually, wear those glasses, and when you sit on them like I sit on mine, don't bitch about it, because no one cares. You don't even know why you're wearing them inside a building anyway.

Pull your goddamn pants up. Don't wear your hat like a retarded seven year old. Don't sit at the table with your 'I'm hot, but I'm not your girlfriend, I just think you have money because you tell me you do, so I hang out' anorexic braindead groupie for the next half hour before you bust out three places before the bubble.

And for the love of all that is good and wholesome - don't press your diaphragm against your lungs, push air out while flexing your musculus vocalis, and form your lips and tongue to form words pertaining to your own perceived, and completely unearned and unwarranted grandiosity.

Or I will cut you.
IkeB is offline Report Post

[edit on 14-4-2010 by DeltaChaos]