Thursday, June 28, 2007

I hang my head

1-3 at the club. AGAIN. And once again it was after going 0-3 and then getting matched up against a completely clueless opponent who let me play jed, ini, ni and all manner of phonies to rack up enough points to erase the 100+ point spanking my third opponent delivered.

Although, come on, if you're using a blank and an s for 27 points you've got no business playing me in Scrabble.

In my defense, there weren't that many players tonight, so I ended up matched with at least one expert. And he owned me. Dawn for sale. Dawn for sale. Dawn for sale.
I mean come on haed? Apod? What's that an analog ipod. Pout.
At the end of the game he suggested that I go give the dictionary a looksee.

The most interesting games though were my first two. I was matched with people who were actually my level. The first game ended 333 to 333 and then she discovered that she forgot to count 20 points for herself and I lost. I found a cool bingo of supines, which she almost challenged...but decided to just bingo back instead with airiest.
At the end of the game, she pointed out that instead of playing afar for like 8 points or something stupid, I should have hooked it on waited to play awaited. This is the second time in my short Scrabble career that I have missed this easy hook. By gum, there shant be a third. BY GUM.
She was nice and said that I made her heart go "ba boom" the whole game...the sound of an inferior player almost winning, I guess.
My second game was with a woman I had beaten before. The tiles fell evenly, but I became obsessed with completing my satire bingo, that I didn't take advantage of her many single digit point turns in a row.
I lost in a squeaker when she played the j on a double letter score going both ways in the second to last round of the game.

But. The very very very worstest most humiliating part of it all...
The director of the club comes up to me and says "You're taking a picture of the board? Did you see someone do that this weekend in Philadelphia?"
I was taken ABACK.
"Huh? What?"
"Why'd you go and play a rated tournament so soon?"
Good. God.
Until tonight.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Taking the plunge

Say what you want about blue hairs and old people, I’ll take being beaten by them everyday and twice on Sundays to getting my ass beat by a scrawny kid with floppy hair and braces.
I played my first Scrabble tournament on Sunday…I didn’t know what to expect, but the only way I’ll ever make good on the myspace claim that I’m nationally ranked, is to play a rated tournament.
I emailed back and forth with the president of the Philly Scrabble club and he said that his King-of-the-Hill one day tourney was a good tournament to get started at.
I was giving a ranking of 0 and listed as the tenth best player. Even though there was another guy there with a 0 ranking.
This annoyed me.
My first game was against the 1 ranked player. Again, this annoyed me.
I held my own against her, especially considering she opened with a bingo.
I had one of those “almost a bingo” racks, so I played off a u for like two points. She punished me by hitting the x going both ways. I cry. But I drew the blank and managed to find the word lavished through her d to bingo. Ok…we’re kinda back.
I ended up picking up the z and playing it on a double going two ways.
She physically winced!
Yeah, baby.
I took a brief lead, but she capitalized by playing dices on the triple. Actually, looking at the board, she hit every triple. Pout. Gotta stop opening up those triple lines. My humiliating moment of the game was when she played moues and I thought she had misspelled mouse. I was soo gleeful when I slammed the button and said challenge.
SOOOO GLEEEFUL. Like hahaha stupid lady misspelled mouse.
She won by more than 100 points.
Oh well. Whatever. Stupid number 1 ranked player.
My next opponent was the number four ranked player. She was an affable enough older woman – like mid sixties.
She asked how my first match went, I said I got stomped. She said “yeah, my first tournament didn’t go so well either.” She then showed me how the clock worked (it was one of those cheapie small silver ones) and how to fill out the score sheet.
And then we drew tiles. I drew aelorss and immediately bingoed with lassoer.
She was all “Wha—but but…one who lassoes? I guess that’s good. Argh. I hate when people open with a bingo on me.”
I smiled and promised I wouldn’t do it again.
She played cults and my j on a double. She exchanged. I played the k on a double.
She started complaining bitterly.
I was in total control. Even when she bingoed finally, I was still ahead handily.
HAHHAHA and then I played the q going both ways on her for almost as much as her bingo.
She started whining like there was no tomorrow.
To her credit, her small game almost killed me, coupled with my penchant for choking in the endgame.
She took a small lead with no more tiles in the bag. Her fucking “wired” play was worth something like 50 points somehow. I was going to cry. Then I saw I could play my y on the double going two ways for thirty odd points.
She exclaimed.
I jumped.
“I can’t win,” she muttered.
Whew. She played out her last two tiles for 6 points and Dawn was 1-1.
Then I was matched up with the number 2 ranked player.
This woman ate me alive.
She opened with a bingo (dieting), she ricochet played off my power tiles for more points than I realized were allowed on a play AND the challenged off my phonies in a heartbeat. To wit: Opa. No good. Then I played wang on the triple line and she turned red and said “um, I challenge that.”
Honestly, I thought it was good. But no.
She put down wait instead and said “I think you were thinking of ‘vang.’
Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.
She posted the 492-234 score up on the highest score sheet at the back of the room. Fuck her.
I took my aggravation out on the next old lady.
I played flawlessly.
I bingoed three times, including a fake – but way plausible looking “skivener” hahahaha…once I established that she wouldn’t really challenge, I got more creative (She did rebel when I played zart on the triple line for 65 points…it was no good.) She then played some word, which formed AYA, a phony I’ve played in the past. I insta challenged it. I actually crushed her by almost 200 points.
My next opponent was an old black lady.
I underestimated her.
This game was fun because she also wouldn’t challenge. I played a classic Fisch/Dawn phony “awo” and though she thought long and hard, she didn’t challenge. Ha, I thought, neither did he.
But, her game was sick.
I played my z for a nice amount of points, she exchanged a few letters and then bingoed with instant.
She then ricocheted off my z like two turns in a row for way more points than I got from the z.
I played a phony bingo on her – tearied, though I thought it was good. I also got to play the word miaouing – after opening with miaou – though I wasted like three turns trying to draw the damn g. But she challenged it and I earned myself a free turn.
She took an handy lead when she played jars on the triple line, and in desperation I tried to bingo out by playing the word candier.
“Well, since it’s the last play, I challenge.”
Oh well.
She ended up going out, so she got all my candier tiles.
Not so candier for Dawn.
I was then paired with the other newbie and he won in a game that I should have taken down. I fucking suck so bad at the end game that I couldn’t even take a picture of the final board. I improved his 1-4 record to 2-4. I wanted to vomit. Mostly because instead of opening up a bingo line for myself when I was holding two blanks with two tiles left in the bag, I played Mig, leaving the m hanging with four open spaces behind it – of course, I should have played rig instead so I could find a word ending in r. impressively I came up with the bingo vomiters but I would have needed five spaces behind the m.
I had to walk it off.
Since our records were tied, we were paired up again for a tie breaker. He won that won more handily.
I was honestly scrabbled out after 7 games.
7 grueling games. But I got my first tourney out of the way, memorized a couple of useful wordlists. (The funny moment in my last game with the kid involved the rack aegirst. I had been having trouble remember the words seagirt and stagier because they are way weirder than the more common words found in that rack…of course, when I actually see the rack aeirsst with a g near the front – all I could think of was stupid seagirt and stagier, though they wouldn’t work…pout…ok, it’s only funny if you were there for the fuck why can’t remember seagirt moments, only to then live through the why can I only think of seagirt moment.)

Saturday, June 23, 2007


I almost got beat in Scrabble tonight. By some dude. At some other dude's house.
So after hearing me trash talk Jamie a couple of nights ago, this guy casually says "if you want...I'd be up for a Scrabble game."
He is playing poker online and so he says "do you mind if I keep playing this while we play, it might slow down the game a little."
I shrug my shoulders. I haven't played Scrabble in a while, so I was like ok! (No, Jamie, my bingoing on you with my first turn and then eviscerating your lead in the last two plays of your game with Mary, does not count as me playing...and you rifling through the dictionary as you try to figure out what to do with your last tiles doesn't count as you playing either.) Anyway, so this dude draws seven tiles and runs back to his online poker game.
I drew the z, so he got the first turn.
He runs back to the board and plunks down A BINGO: Jasmine.
He runs back to the computer, so I have to count up his damn points. 92.
My saving grace was his assertion that he couldn't challenge me because I "know all those stupid Scrabble words."
I played a million and one phony twos and threes to balance out my rack, until I finally took the lead bingoing with fingers, using a blank.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Only three more boroughs to go

I ran out of the Brooklyn Scrabble club today!

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Pay to Play

Ouch. My head. My pride. My very humanity. All bruised, all battered, all really really hurting.
So, like all good pushermen, my first time at the Scrabble club was free. Next time. Fifteen bones.
I dilly dallied as long as I could, so as to avoid getting to the club too early. My undiagnosed social anxiety disorder causing me to dread spending empty time with strangers...or friends or family for that matter. Idle hands, devil, whatnot. Today's delaying tactic involved taking photographs of every bingo I saw on the walk from my office to the club.
Yes, yes. Dawn. Gay.
Unfortunately, I still managed to get up to Honors twenty minutes early. I didn't recognize anyone but the club director.
He came over to me, scratched his head and said "gimmee a minute to remember your name."
This caused me to panic and immediately blurt out "Dawn."
Oops. Sorry.
He gave me a look and said "Summers?"
I smiled.
Evidently, his older brother or maybe younger brother, who really knows, was in attendance for the first time in a while.
This drew much commenting and then I overheard this conversation.
"Why do you leave after only three games?" (The mini-tournament consists of four games.)
"I want to get home earlier."
"Why? It's not like you have anything to do there. You don't have a wife or kids or anything going on."
"Hey, I go home, get drunk and play with the cats. It's what I do."
I made a mental note to maybe possibly find a new hobby.
The last time I was there I went 1-3, though I felt that had I not made a few simple mistakes I could have easily been 3-1. I decided to get that record today.
My first opponent was apparently the first person to speak in the movie Word Wars. And there are entire pages about him in the Fatsis book.
I know this because he told me. A couple of times.
"What's your name again," I asked cause I thought he'd like the mention.
"Again? You mean still. It hasn't changed."
I laughed. But forgot his name. Again. I mean still.
But hey, I remembered his joke...which, if you ask me, much more flattering.
Anyway, Mr. Again Still kicked my ass.
Although, in my defense, he drew all four esses, both blanks, the Q, and the X.
I got the J, but had nowhere really good to put it and played it for like 24 on a double. Ugh. At the end of the match, he was up by like 250, but said the spread would only be 200 because of the club's mercy rule.
But he gave me some pointers, told me some stories about beating people who were way worse than him because sometimes "you draw good."
Yah. I know.
I can't say if I would have beaten him if the tiles had been more even -- but later I heard him arguing with this Asian woman who was kicking his ass because he challenged barties (not really) and she was explaining to him that it was satire plus b, so he should have known it was good because it was a list word and he yelled back "I don't study lists!"
And I suppressed a giggle. I looked over at his sheet and his game with me was his only win. That made me feel real good about myself.
My next game, I jumped out to an early lead I found an impressvely high scoring word in a rack of c e d k m s u and jumped out to an early lead. I then drew the z and cruised to almost triple my opponents score. He was taking forever and then putting down single digit plays.
I so had this game.
And then I got a rack of a e i i n s t and recognized it as a satine rack. I found the place for my bingo and then...he plays rejudges.
I say..."Challenge!" It's good.
I ask for a rejudgment.
I play off an i and an n to maintain my bingo possibilities...i pick another i and n...I cry.
I open up a bingo line for myself on the triple and he takes it. Not. His. First. Rodeo.
Dawn goes down by 145 points.
HA! No mercy rule for me.
My third opponent was a guy my age. He had his own board, rack, clock and word looking up book -- and wasn't afraid to lay claim to them.
He was very serious.
Again, I jumped out to an early lead. But my time management was atrocious. At one point he had 11 more minutes than I did...
He set himself up for certain things and I just couldn't block them.
He played Bunk, then bunkers on the triple, the debunkers on the other triple.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK...BUT I managed to keep the lead for the vast majority of the game with a steady diet of 30-40 point plays...but then he bingoes with stealers (Dammit Dawn, close down the board when you're ahead!!!) Played the ixia, hitting the triple with the x...I drew both the Q and the Z on my last draw with like less than two minutes on my clock, he had pulled ahead by 30 and I dropped "sized" on the triple, also making glaciers -- yay, up by 15! And then he said:
"78 and out."
I look up and he had set himself up the turn before to bingo out by playing off an o to my op...he then hooked on the s to make sop, tirades AND get double points for my Q.
I cry.
At least I only lost that game by double digits.
He stretched out his hand to me said good game. But I wanted to hurt him. Violently and permanently in ways that let me know deep down that I am unfit for civilized society and should probably relocate to whereever apocalypse now was filmed.
He said I should come out and play in the park.
Hey! A park invite! Wait...a...minute...they play for money in the park.
I play a lot of poker and I've come to use the phrase "sometimes you eat the bar, sometimes the bar eats you" to describe those nights where you just get clobbered, crushed, smooshed, demolished. Outplayed, outdrawn, out. Tonight was one of those Scrabble nights. Facing my last game, the best I could do was tie my previous outing.
I was paired up with a friendly looking middle aged white woman who very much reminded me of my high school best friend's mom.
But I was going to crush her!
I drew an A, so I went first.
I played gauno. And hit the clock.
"Gauno," she said softly, I've never seen that word before.
My heart started to race. FUCK! I spelled it wrong!!!!!!
But I stayed cool, drew my tiles.
And then...well, there's another phrase my friend and I use to describe poker results.
"I'm up, but I'm not proud of it."
I.e. I had a rough day at poker, so I changed up a hundred dollar bill and played roulette. My number hit and now I'm up...but I'm not proud of it.
So...seeing that this nice sweet lady wouldn't challenge an obviously misspelled word, I played my best creative Scrabble game.
And just so you get an idea of excatly how horribly disrespectful this all is...beginners are given sheets with all the twos and threes on them and are encouraged to use them during play.
But I just knew I could get away with it...
I played "Poy" which is no good.
She didn't challenge.
I then hooked an s in front to bingo with "twinges" -- who the hell knows if that's good, but spoy...definitely no good. I then play "ruff" (um...sound a dog makes?) and played off an o, looking for an e to bingo with released...instead I drew a p. I played the phony "por" and bingo with pleased instead.
I was up my like 160 points and she was all "you are so good at this game, how long have you been playing."
Then she played the word aroe.
"Do you think that's good?" she asked meekly.
Look lady, I don't care, I'm about to hook touting on top of that for another bingo because I know you won't challenge "te."
But she insisted on looking it up anyway.
"Oh, dear, it's no good. I'll take it off."
What's that horrible sensation creeping into my stomach...
"No, no...I didn't challenge it! Leave it. Don't worry."
"Well, I want to play fair."
"No, it's's part of the game...Scrabble's like 50 percent word knowledge and 50 percent guesswork..."
And 90 percent of all statistics are made up right on the spot.
I looked at my
I played the valid word outing instead of my phony based phony bingo.
Of course, it didn't stop me from playing ajeer on the triple. I ended up beating her by 197...just shy of the mercy rule.
At the game's end, she looked up good.
I quickly started clearing the tiles before she started looking up any more words...
So, we tied our previous record...but we're not proud it...well...actually.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Not So Random Thought

How many games of Scrabble would you have to play before you see every possible rack?


Played Scrabble this weekend, but due to the soreloserness of one or more sore losers, there aren't any board pictures...however, this was taken after I played bionics (although Fisch claims I played biotics) hooking the s on top of the word imp for an impressive find of the word 'simp.'
I won the game and Fisch tried to hide his shame.

I make my triumphant return to the club on Thursday and I've heard there's a Brooklyn game, so we shall see.

Friday, June 8, 2007

Conversation of the Day (Dawn)

Joe Grossberg on what I would do if I moved to D.C.

Joe: Play Scrabble, duh!


There is an open N on the board ... going for the bingo.

Me: Wait...for real? Cause I'll move tomorrow.

Joe: Haha. No, but next time in NYC we should definitely play. Karol can come too, if she doesn't think it's too nerdy.

Me: Oh, crap. But I already subletted my apartment and quit my job. Who has just learned a valuable lesson about joking about Scrabble?

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Fun with Scrabble board

Unfortunately, it seems that I started my Scrabble blog in the midst of a poker resurgence...but game play should resume at the end of the week or by next week Thursday. Until then, we'll do flashbacks!

Glib! Zek!

What two letter word can be placed in the top right corner to make three words, including a nice triple word score going two ways?


Making Kif, Ka and Aby.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Aw, man...holes

Or how Dawn learned the importance of closing off a board when you're ahead.


Saturday, June 2, 2007

Racks O the Day

Is there a bingo here?

Did I miss a bingo here?

Would you exchange?


I ended up playing Ham, using an a on the board.

Quote of the Day

"What could she add to the end of 'duo'? - Jamie about to find out when I played suq for 48 points.


Friday, June 1, 2007

I play Scrabble good

I run so good against Jamie. I mean, unbelievably (I don't know if that's how you spell it, but if I spelled it that way and played it in a Scrabble game against Jamie, it would be valid. Just. Sayin.') I play at Jamie's place about once a week, after getting knocked out of his tournaments -- either first or second, as is my way. Last week, I extended his play of laters by hooking the e for echoing on the front to bingo and make elaters. One who makes another happy. He, understandably, challenged it. I was wrong. And elater is not a person at all -- it's a CLICK BEETLE!
Dawn's play is good AND Jamie loses a turn.
Fast forward to last night. I have a rack of E N R R T U U. I groaned. I drew the letter closest to A and had the first turn, but with my crap rack, I was worried I would be playing some dumb three letter word for six points or skipping my turn...i.e... "nut." But then I saw "True" Hmm...eight points...still crappy and I am giving up the ever so lovable E...and then I saw Untrue...ooh...I could get rid of six of these ridiculous letters! Woo hoo...done and done.
I put them down...and looked at the r left behind...hmm...if something was could be untrue...r?
Hmmm...this was Jamie after all...and I was Dawn...OK! I call...I mean, I place.
"Untruer" 68 points!
He immediately challenged.
I lunged for the Scrabble dictionary, I scanned the Uns and saw untrue...and then there in the definition!!!! UNTRUER!!!
I. Love. This. Game.
Final Board

Take Two

I went back to the Scrabble club yesterday. I timed my arrival for a little later in the night, hoping that there’d be more people. I was right.
I walked in with two people, I didn’t talk to them, but I walked in with them.
I sat down, sent a couple of text messages. I was still a bit panicky, but I decided to wait five minutes.
“Hi, I’m Nancy! Are you new?”
“Yes, I’m Dawn…hi…”
“Great! Sign in with Joel, the director.”
I went up to the man at the desk.
“Hi. I’m Dawn Summers, this is my first time…”
He went to reach for a yellow slip. (Now, for the rest of this exercise, imagine that my blog last name is Summer, instead of Summers, otherwise he’ll come off looking stupider than he needs to.)
“What’s your last name?”
“No, last name.”
He gives me an audibly annoyed sigh,
“What? Start over. What’s your name?”
“DAWN…SUMMER. That’s my last name…I understand the question…”
This exchange is then followed by the spelling of my name routine, which just doesn’t translate on the blog.
Finally, he asks me if I’ve played with a clock before. I say no.
(Months ago, after weeks of playing with the three minute sand timer and giving ourselves two flips of it, Fisch insisted that we buy an official time clock. Huh…and now that I think about it, by we, he evidently meant me. Jerkface. After a minor two week detour to California, the SamTimer finally arrived a few months ago, and the slamming of buttons is now a staple sound at the dining room table. But you know, just in case Fisch had tricked me about any particular custom, as is his way (“no, Dawn, it’s not garbage, it’s part of the lamp…I’m serious!”) I said no. Plus, I was in full-on ‘I’m just a girl’ mode. Managing expectations, people. Managing expectations. I didn't want my first time to go like this.)
I spotted a guy about my age milling around the beverages and went over to say hi.
“Um…do you come here often…”
“No, this is my first time…you?”
“Oh my God, do you feel like a total freak!?”
We laughed and introduced ourselves. His name was Charles, he lives in Harlem and plays Scrabble online all the time.
I told him I could never get any of the sites to work for me, but I played at home.
He laughed and said:
“Yeah, I can beat all my friends…they won’t play with me anymore. But I wanted to play live.”
Afterward, the tournament director Joel gave us a list of instructions on how to play with the timer, how to draw tiles and a list of two letter and three letter words.
“We not only allow newbies to use the list while playing, we encourage it.”
Charles and I crossed our fingers and hoped they would let us play with each other the whole night…uh…that was a poorly phrased sentence.
But no, I drew a woman across the room.
I sat down to my first club game ever. My opponent was in her early fifties, with short curly black hair. She held out the bag for me and I drew the E. I was fairly confident that I would go first.
“Closest to A goes first,” she said, simultaneously drawing the A.
I usually play with a brash kid who used to compete in Scrabble tournaments, our games are usually loud relentless displays of unsportsmanlike conduct unbecoming a Marine…er…Scrabble player.
If I had drawn the E and he outdrew me to grab the A – I would be hurling a “fuck you, luck box,” right about now. I suppressed that instinct and smiled.
She scored 14 on her first turn with Gay and I outscored by playing AMA with the m on the double letter square.
Then she exchanged and I pulled further ahead.
I drew extremely well – both blanks, three esses, the z, the q – but she exchanged three times and I was consistently outscoring her and using enough of my tiles to get the opportunity to draw new ones. She even drew eight tiles and I was able to throw back her x. I bingoed once with retiles and she audibly sighed, leaned back in her chair and said
“Man, are you going to win your first game at the club? No one does that.”
Again, I had to suppress my Fisch-honed instinct to say “fuuuckkk yoouuu,” for the premature jinxing.
Sure enough, my endgame fell apart. I started playing off one or two letters and she pulled ahead by five, I came back to take a six point lead and then she said “12 and out and out,” and I still had an m on my rack.
She exhaled and said “wow, you’re good.”
“Not really,” I said in keeping with the humble newbie persona I decided to adopt for my first time playing at “the most famous Scrabble club in the country,” as the first woman who introduced herself to me said earlier that night.
Of course, I realized that since I almost beat her, that might not have come off as gracious as I meant it to.
But she was super nice and we chatted for a bit about how we both came to play competitive Scrabble on a Thursday night.
“I’ve been playing about two years here. I used to play the informal games on Sunday, but I love the mini tournament style of Thursdays. How about you?”
“Well, the guy I mainly play with is very competitive and humiliates me every time I lose, so I had to get really good, but now he’s moving to California and I can beat everyone else I know…so I’m either giving up Scrabble or I have to play here.
Charles also lost his first match, but by 100 points, so I felt a little better about my patented endgame collapse.
I won my next match in what I thought was a crushing…I bingoed with outsize on the triple line, but then challenged the word: wos.
It was good. And as Joel told me the word was valid, he added “that’s why we give beginners the cheatsheet of twos and threes and tell them to use it…so you don’t make challenges like that.”
I think he muttered ‘idiot’ as he walked away.
Anyway, as I said, I thought I crushed my second opponent until my third match, where I had six bad challenges, exchanged TWICE and got all around murdered by this old lady by 174 points.
She was also very dirty. Like she would make me count my own points and not tell me if I’d forgotten to press her clock. So, pretty much, we’ll be calling her Fischwoman from now on. She even has his sneaky Fisch expression when she knows she's getting away with extra time. Fucker.
The Fischwoman played sneller and YUCH and a bunch of other bullshit that turned out to be good…by the time she was up by 220, I so wanted to dump my tiles onto the board and concede. But evidently, this is not allowed.
So, I battled back... a little…I bingoed with crossed and managed to get the loss to under 200 points…UGH.
I was still smarting from that match and botched the last game against a black woman who hadn’t won a game all night…I let my clock run down trying to think of ways to use the q and the z on some incredible power square…never happened and I ended up struggling with two minutes left and something like 20 tiles still in the bag. All around poor time and rack managment.
I cry.
During the breaks in the game, this Asian guy was playing cards and when I asked him what he was playing, he said “Texas Hold ‘Em.” Indeed, he had dealt out four hands of two cards each, and then would lay out a flop, a turn and a river and then turn over the hands to see who won.
I told him I’d play the imaginary poker with him.
He told me he was very good.
“Oh? Where do you play?”
“Well, Playstation 2,”
“Oh, they reopened it,” I asked thinking he meant a defunct poker club called Playstation.
“Huh? I have two characters and they beat Christy Gazes AND Clonie Gowen.”
I tried not to laugh.
I didn’t succeed.
“Oh, the videogame?”
“Yeah, and I play on my phone. Do you play?”
“Yeah, I play.”
“In the city?”
“I’d like to come with you sometime!”
“Um…what’s the most money you ever played for?”
“Umm…Millions of dollars on the Playstation game. I play better when the stakes are higher. Otherwise, I never fold before the flop.” (Or turn or river, I might add.)
(He had been bluffing me hand after hand during imaginary poker.)
“Well, you might want to start playing small games first…like for money…before…going to a club.”
He told me that at the Scrabble tournaments, players have poker cash games and tournaments on the side.
And dude, if they all play poker like he does, I could so subsidize my Scrabble costs with my poker winnings!
All in all it was a good night. My 1-3 record, was definitely not indicative of my abilities and I learned some valuable strategic lessons. I also have a nemesis who will drive me to keep up my studies…seriously, Fischwoman, I am going to crush you…someday.
Like crack, the first time was free…each time thereafter, it’ll be $15…BUT maybe I can challenge Asian guy to some real heads up play…