The Poker Bat Ain’t No Poker Brat But Still Loves to Whine…

The Bat hates many things in life.  MANY THINGS!  This probably comes from a childhood of being the first player out in every dodgeball game, a career .001 batting avegae in beer league softball, and once getting knocked out in a pillow fight with a five year old girl.  The Bat still contends that girl loaded her pillow with a years worth of Ivory soap bars.  Anyway, the Bat’s amassed almost as much anger as he has pant sizes in his every expanding quest to one day get picked up by a crane, even if it’s just to remove the Bat from his house.  The Bat hates even more things in poker games.

Okay, bashing the Bat isn’t fun for anybody especially when the Bat’s anger can be better directed at the table whisperers at every Texas Holdem table in existence.   You know who you are, you guys that cup your hand and spray gentle nothings into the guy or gal that has the misfortune of sitting next to you.  Then you rise up and sneer when the comment is done and shake your head with a mixture of sympathy and loathing or outright derision to your targets across the table.  There is a messageboard thread that has says Annie Duke is your queen leader in this type of behavior.  The Bat has never seen this first hand from the slow-rolled Apprentice runner-up but the Bat doesn’t doubt it could be true. 

You are a destestable lot.  The Bat, being naturally paranoid as a result of an upbringing devoid of ice cream except when scoops were stuffed down the back of his pants or more accurately his wedgies by bored lunch-ladies, has to think you are whispering about him.  The Bat doesn’t like you clowns, sitting in your little poker ivory towers dismissing the masses before you.  Even worse when you try to speak across the table and your inability to raise the modulation of your voice above a low mumble is more than grating.  All the Bat or anybody else can hear at the other end of the table is  “Zippety… pot odds… long weekend with wife’s sister… three bet… donk move… sippety… spiffety… spooh” 

 While low-talkers like loud talkers, close talkers, nonstop talkers, fake smile talkers (stop smiling already you can’t be that happy), are a social problem that should be rooted out of poker like people that lie and steal from their backers you are a step beyond. Low talkers are a well documented problem but you go further with your Top Secret comments made to either side.  As such you whispering, mumbling, (…I shall call you) secretive takers that can’t let out an audible syllable in a public place really goose the Bat’s tailfeathers not only for only being limited to speaking in your neigbors ears but for all the ills a low talker confers to a social situation. 

So secretive talkers if you are going to insult somebody or at least appear too, have some gumption and say it loud enough for everybody else to hear.  Don’t be a yellow-livered coward.   Why the hostility?  The Bat recently played in a game and every time a player acted he’d turn to his neighbor and coo whatever it was he had to say and they’d survey the table with beady condescing eyes.  Finally, the Bat had enough of that stubby fingered ear reach-around that was going on non-stop and demanded the dealer make all the player speak english.

The dealer looked at the Bat in confusion.  “English?”  he asked.  “Yessir!” the Bat responded.  “Everybody is…” he almost mocked the Bat.  “How do you know?  We can’t hear what those two lovebirds are saying to one another how do we know they are speaking English?” The dealer at the Bat’s urgings then started correcting the whisperers. And from this point on, anytime the Bat is in the presence of a secretive taker you’ll hear the Bat say “ENGLISH please!” The Bat recommends you do too.

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