EasyRhino
Well-Known Member
Did some really quick play today. Only about an hour. But I got really lucky. Not only did I win a few big hands, but I placed a big bet at the top of the shoe, and won like 8 hands in a row. Up about 46 units. Which sounds pretty good. Then when I translate that to $2300, it sounds really good.
As the second place, I only squeaked in about 15 minutes of play. Lost $50. And it was really tough to not try to hang in there and win that bet back.
Bankroll snapshot: $40,370.
Boring Introspective Navel-Gazing:
The bankroll snapshot is significant because it tops my previous all-time high bankroll by a couple hundred bucks. The previous bankroll peak was set on October 1st. So that would mark my personal "market correction" as lasting about 4.5 months. And while my surpassing of the previous peak was by a small amount (actually, I've earned more in interest over that period), I'm still going to chalk it down as an important moral victory.
(Also for the record, I know that a 4.5 month trough is chump change compared to some people's losses).
I did some thinking about this on the drive home. If I remember correctly, the three stages of self-destructive high-rolling gambling are Love, Greed, and Fear.
Early 07's very rapid bankroll inflation (due to online winnings and a few lucky trips) would count as Love. It was, I have to admit, a little bit narcotic. The bankroll was growing faster than I could even come to grips with bet spreads.
Greed would be the subsequent summer, where I thought to myself "Gee, why doesn't everyone do this?" as the bankroll was still on a fairly steady upward arc, and briefly, the casinos were working like my own personal ATM machine. And while I intellectually knew it was bogus, I was definitely enjoying the low volatility wins.
The Fear came in fall/winter, when I put together a string of sizeable losses. It gave me time to ponder my ultimate ruin. It wasn't fun at all, and this wasn't even money that I needed. I tried to imagine what it would be like for the schlub who was gambling his car payment to make his house payment... and I couldn't do it.
I guess that would be the part where many gamblers start steaming, lose their minds, overbet, and go bust.
But for me, a fourth stage kicked in. I don't know what to call it, but it's probably something every appropriately disciplined and appropriately bankrolled AP gets. I'll just call it "Time to Make the Donuts". I had basically lost all expectation of winning. I had no feeling of luck. I went numb to the results of individual hands. I felt no destiny. All I knew is that the numbers said I should have an advantage, and so I just kept pounding away at the numbers until they eventually worked themselves out. (This is also when I collected another backoff, so maybe I pounded a little too hard).
I think the Donuts stage is very important.
Anyway, it's late, and I have finish planning which joints in Vegas I want to get tossed from this weekend. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this peak will last longer than a day, but at least I'll have the donuts.
As the second place, I only squeaked in about 15 minutes of play. Lost $50. And it was really tough to not try to hang in there and win that bet back.
Bankroll snapshot: $40,370.
Boring Introspective Navel-Gazing:
The bankroll snapshot is significant because it tops my previous all-time high bankroll by a couple hundred bucks. The previous bankroll peak was set on October 1st. So that would mark my personal "market correction" as lasting about 4.5 months. And while my surpassing of the previous peak was by a small amount (actually, I've earned more in interest over that period), I'm still going to chalk it down as an important moral victory.
(Also for the record, I know that a 4.5 month trough is chump change compared to some people's losses).
I did some thinking about this on the drive home. If I remember correctly, the three stages of self-destructive high-rolling gambling are Love, Greed, and Fear.
Early 07's very rapid bankroll inflation (due to online winnings and a few lucky trips) would count as Love. It was, I have to admit, a little bit narcotic. The bankroll was growing faster than I could even come to grips with bet spreads.
Greed would be the subsequent summer, where I thought to myself "Gee, why doesn't everyone do this?" as the bankroll was still on a fairly steady upward arc, and briefly, the casinos were working like my own personal ATM machine. And while I intellectually knew it was bogus, I was definitely enjoying the low volatility wins.
The Fear came in fall/winter, when I put together a string of sizeable losses. It gave me time to ponder my ultimate ruin. It wasn't fun at all, and this wasn't even money that I needed. I tried to imagine what it would be like for the schlub who was gambling his car payment to make his house payment... and I couldn't do it.
I guess that would be the part where many gamblers start steaming, lose their minds, overbet, and go bust.
But for me, a fourth stage kicked in. I don't know what to call it, but it's probably something every appropriately disciplined and appropriately bankrolled AP gets. I'll just call it "Time to Make the Donuts". I had basically lost all expectation of winning. I had no feeling of luck. I went numb to the results of individual hands. I felt no destiny. All I knew is that the numbers said I should have an advantage, and so I just kept pounding away at the numbers until they eventually worked themselves out. (This is also when I collected another backoff, so maybe I pounded a little too hard).
I think the Donuts stage is very important.
Anyway, it's late, and I have finish planning which joints in Vegas I want to get tossed from this weekend. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this peak will last longer than a day, but at least I'll have the donuts.