Impaired Judgment

After drinking two rum and cokes, a glass of wine, a Guinness and some English beer that I don't know the name of, I got home and turned on the computer.

I popped open a Heineken and looked for some Triple Draw and limit hold 'em games to play on PokerStars. What the hell was I thinking?

First I found a $30/$60 limit hold em game and dropped about 10 bets. Then I lost another 20 bets at a $15/$30 limit hold em game. Now, feeling quite toasty, I opened up the only Triple Draw game going above the $3/$6 level -- a $30/$60 game.

This is a game I had no business in. My triple draw knowledge is limited to the most basic concepts: try to draw to an 8 or better, play tight and let go of your hand sooner rather than later if you don't improve after the first draw. Seriously, that's all I know about the game, and I don't even feel confident in those rules of thumb.

Why am I in this game again? Oh yeah, because I'm drunk and I want some action. And Triple Draw is a lot of fun, until I realized I was out of my depth.

But even then, I didn't close the table. I set artificial goals for myself that I couldn't keep. I'd tell myself that if I got back to even, I would quit. Then I lost a little more, and I told myself I'd quit when I got close to even. After losing a little more, I came back and and got within a few bets of where I started.

I thought to myself: Why stop there? After all, it would only take one more decent-sized pot to put me near even for the entire session.

So, foolishly, I kept it up. I went up and down, up and down, but mostly down. Maybe I was running poorly. I'm sure I made some bad decisions. But how many times can my pat hands be beat by a one-card draw on the end? Quite frequently, apparently.

I did a search for "triple draw strategy" to try to figure out a few more basics of the game. All I found was this column by Howard Lederer, which didn't help at all in my inebriated state.

And yet I still didn't log off. At this point, I wanted to either hit a big score or get to a point where I wouldn't have much chance of coming back. I ignored everything I know -- I played longer than I should have, I didn't have an edge in the game, I didn't care much whether I won or lost.

What really bothers me is that it was so easy to piss away this money. It was like I wanted to let it go. The alcohol didn't create these self-destructive impulses, it simply lowered my inhibitions so they could escape.

Do I really feel like I don't deserve to win? Am I so insecure that I want to hurt myself, like a masochist who delights in experiencing pain because it's better than feeling nothing? Am I trying to sabotage myself out of some superstitious fear that if I keep winning I'll forget what it's like to lose?

Finally, I reached one of my goals. My buy-in had been reduced to mere scraps, not even worth playing anymore after losing nearly 20 bets. Hours later than I should have, far past the point where I lost impulse control, I shut down the window and went to sleep.

I lost a total of about $2,000 and my bankroll remains healthy despite this disturbing, compulsive behavior.

It's been a great year results-wise, but irrational episodes like last night's show that I've got some issues.

I'm still a fish.