When you're all in 3 ways and your KJ clubs over Q4 off gets done by 8-3 off from the David Walliams lookalike with cigarette yellowed shaky fingers to your right, you can pretty much say it wasn't meant to be your night.
17th of 42 at LPC tonight. Started well, good cards, decent play, albeit self deal. My first table was great fun, lovely guys. Had my arse touched up by a guy who called himself Jeff but I am quite sure was Bernard Manning at the break, who then kept winking at me when I joined what I am unaffectionately terming the geek table in the corner after a couple of hands afterwards. These guys were different. Not different class. I doubt many of them have girlfriends anyway. I checked 8-3 from BB and caught AA8 on the flop which I bet and got called. I should have reminded myself he flinched as if he was going to muck before he suddenly changed his mind and called. Then I bet (more) on the blank turn and got hugely raised and bottled it - when thinking time and hindsight, or just a bit more time playing with these guys to work them out, screamed I was ahead.
My pocket queens were subsequently rivered by a(n eventual) set of 10s when I got the fear about the 1 K overcard and didn't bet enough/at all. And then I was pretty much blinded/bullied out with few options to the contrary, until the suited picture cards that were massive until the 8 and other under cards came.
Utter crap at the end, but need to trust my instinct better and gamble more and, in effect, play to win over surviving another 5 or 10 unpaid cash places.
Wish the wine here wasn't so expensive. Time to kill now. Going to cheerlead for Leigh and plan kebab en route home.
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