I’m calling for the forcible extinction of ducks and penguins. Who’s with me?!

They’re not cute and they are definitely not lucky.

***

Since we last spoke, I played in the main event on Friday.

Good Friday, they call it? Not so much for one biblical Jewish carpenter, and not so much for this particular Jew either.

It went well until it didn’t.

I got short stacked when my AK got all-in against a smaller stack with A7 and the board ran out AJ3-5-7. Not much I can do about that one.

And then with the tiny stack I had left, I confidently shoved 33 from the SB into a QQ BB and that was that.

Which brings us to today when Jesus Christ rose from the dead, and I played in what they call “The Deep Stack” (which in reality is anything but) and my QQ got all-in on a flop of 972 rainbow and my opponent showed up with pocket deuces to take me down. Again, I think of all the ways I could’ve or should’ve gotten away from that hand and I can’t find one.

So, it seems like QQ, otherwise known as “The Ladies” were immune to my charms this weekend. But then so were all the other cards.

Four tournaments and not so much as a free bowl of soup to show for it.

To say that the Card Gods were not friendly to me this week would be tantamount to saying that third century lions were unkind to the Christians fed to them, a fitting Easter Sunday analogy if there ever was one.

However, after some extensive and exhaustive investigation (Google search) apparently the feeding Christians to the lions bit might just be an urban myth. I hear that what actually happened is that Emperor Nero had Christians “covered in wild beast skins and torn to death by wild dogs”.

And yeah, that’s way more how I feel.

***

So, with the 2025 Toronto WSOP now squarely in the rear-view mirror, I could sit around with my thumb up my ass and wonder whether my current poker game is as good as ever.

But I’m not gonna do that.

SO WHAT that this last year been a little rougher? What are you saying? I peaked? Flash in the pan? I’m like… the Hawk Tua Girl of poker?

Nah. That’s bull puckey.

Relax yourself. We’re talking about four tournaments.

Every poker player has little slumps. In fact, so does every politician, microbiologist, and sex worker. What dentist hasn’t pulled the wrong bicuspid six or seven times in a row? What sanitation worker hasn’t overlooked a severed human limb in the garbage truck?

And besides, four bad tournaments does not a slump make. Please. It’s not even an aberration. Four tournaments is a firefly in a meteor storm, a noctiluca in the North Sea.

I know this game, dammit. And yeah, winning is sweet. But I just love the game.

I even love the way it hurts.

***

So… fuck ducks. Fuck penguins. And fuck underpants.

Next time, I go commando.