I look at my hole cards and find the King and Queen of hearts. Acting first pre-flop, I raise, forcing the field to call $6 cold if they want the opportunity to play against me. The table folds around to the button, who calls, and the blinds fold behind him. Heads up to the flop: King of spades-Queen of diamonds-6 of hearts, top-two pair, a monster. I calmly bet $3, and he quickly calls.
The turn brings the 7 of clubs – a complete blank. I think for a moment, bet $6, and get a shock when he raises to $12. I immediately make it $18 to play. He hesitates for 10 or 15 seconds and calls. The turn brings the 8 of hearts.
I bet $6 again as I begin to imagine how many meals at Bear’s Den I’ll be able to skip with the money I make from this pot. He raises to $12. I suspect something is amiss at this point and just call. He turns over an off-suited 4 and 5, making him a straight on the river.
When the dust had settled, I was $39 in the hole, he was raking in my chips, and I was left with nothing but my animosity. I scream expletives. I punch the wall. I pick up the mouse in my right hand, ready to hurl it at NOluv4daPLAr, the online player with the audacity to call my raise with 4-5 off-suit. As I stand ready to pounce, my roommate pauses his game of GTA: San Andreas:
“What happened?”
“5-4 off-suit.”
“Oh. You should put some pants on.”
I look down at my striped boxers, up at the clock, which now reads 5:45 PM, and back down at my boxers. I close out of the online table, find a pair of jeans, and head down the stairs to Bear’s Den – the salivating thought of steak dinners at Morton’s a fading memory.
This is not a suck-out story. If it is confused with one, I apologize, because I don’t really like hearing about other people’s suck-outs. I have enough of a problem dealing with my own. As I bite into the pasta I ordered, which is beginning to taste like wallpaper as I come back night after night, I come to a realization about the world of online poker: it isn’t fun.
The “fun” aspect of poker is sitting around a table with your friends, laughing about all the stupid things they’ve managed to accomplish in the past year, drinking a few beers and, more than anything, ignoring the 15-page research paper you have due in six days. It is the social aspect – the conversations, the hanging out, the camaraderie – not the game itself. Sure, it’s a fun game, but the guys you play with make it a whole lot better. If you lose $10, it sucks a little, but you can consider it the cost of entertainment for an entire night.
Online poker has none of this. What determines whether or not you enjoy yourself is the money you earn. You would have trouble finding an online player who has fun when he loses a session. The fun part is getting paid – it is no different from any job. You show up, you put in your hours, and when you’re done, you get a nice paycheck, making it all worthwhile. So please, if you want to have fun playing cards, get a group of friends together, buy a case of Coors and head to the basement of your dorm. But unless you’re willing to have a part-time job in addition to the rigors of college, stay away from online poker.