The Poker Bat takes a Chop at Biloxi

The Bat through a friend of a friend of a friend got a hold of a letter, actually an email (the Bat hasn’t gotten a letter since they asked him to register for Vietnam) from a player who was at the Gulf Coast Poker Championship and was mad as hell about the abuse he suffered there during a Texas Holdem poker tournament.  Before the Bat breaks down the anatomy of a chop, proper tournament structure, and proper floor-man behavior the Bat wants to wax philosophic about the Vietnam letter. 

It’s relevant…  just wait for your trusted friend the Bat to get to it.  Talk about a bad beat seeing as the letter arrived after the war had ended a decade or so earlier, and at that point and time the only place Americans were fighting overtly was Grenada, the Bat ain’t much a fan of the U.S. Postal Service.  Sure they deliver in rain, snow, sleet, or hellfire except when they don’t.

Sometimes a letter will get lost for damn near a decade.  Sometimes that can mess up your life.  So at that point the Bat went off the grid.  No more mailbox for the Bat.  Course, the Bat didn’t stray too far from the grid keeping his credit card, phone line, and fax line but you get the point.  Anyway, the men in uniform of the postal service mean well, and we’ll forgive them for calling their top dog a general after all the salvation army gets away with it, but when things go awry there they really go haywire.

Same can be said for running a poker tournament.  The floormen are kind of like the guys running a post office.  Some days they come into work and a guy flat out goes postal and that efficient little system is bent on its ear and conflict runs amuck.  Sometimes the system just breaks down, like the mail in Louisiana post Katrina.  The Bat would mail something and it’d get there but it’d take a month.  Real fun when paying bills. 

The Bat thinks that if you are organizing a poker tournament and you are disregarding players complaining about your structures that’s one thing if the players still come.  And for the most part they do because there is no other game in town (won’t mention Oklahoma where the Bat might have been), but when they stop coming you got a problem.  Bat hears the numbers were down a bit for that big poker tournament over there even worse the Bat hears the structures were so bad  that players were mostly chopping the events even before they got to the final table.  WTF?

Guess what it’s crisis mode… a civil servant just walked into the Post Office locked and loaded.  Maybe they wanted every tournament to wrap up after one day but the Bat suspects not.  The Bat also knows with a juice taken from the Buy-in, yeah read the fine print, it’s about three per cent, a registration fee over 10%, and then a dealer toke, the casino is bleeding the players dry.  It’s lunacy.

Read on a forum where the structure last go around was defended by pointing to the people in the lines for the early tournaments.  That defense ain’t going to last long.  The mail ain’t getting to where it’s supposed to be delivered.  Not only were players petitioning for chops, but individual players that actually wanted to play for first and refused the chops were villainized with no support from the tournament staff.  None.  The tournament staff created the structure which inspires chops and the allowed players that didn’t want to chop to get hotboxed… what to wrap things up?  Something’s fishy.

The Poker Bat Ain’t No Poker Brat But Still Whines (more)

Next in the batch of ten things that piss off the Bat at a Texas Hold’em poker table. Suppose the Poker Bat could have numbered this thing a multi-parter but the Bat ain’t much for counting so he’ll just continue to bitch about the things and people he sees at a poker table that annoy the tiddly winks out of him. If you have kept count let the Bat know where he’s at and he’ll up date it to reflect the order. As for now, if the Bat goes past 10 or doesn’t get there the Bat doesn’t care and nor should you. This latest in the list of things that tick off the Bat is those fake emoters and befrienders that squirrel up to the person beside them at poker table, only to immediately talk bunk after they’ve been eliminated. You know who you are.

The Bat sees many of you playing a string of Online Sit and go poker tournaments at your favorite poker site or in the lobby area of your favorite casino. Many of you are also those secretive talkers whose only conversations are clandestine hand whispers to your neighbors and once they get eliminated you strike up a new bogus friendship to berate the rest of the table. Don’t rub elbows with the Bat literally or figurative. It’s bad enough the Bat has to buy two seats when he flies on an airplane like Kevin Smith, and even worse the Bat has to sidle up to a poker table and immediately have less room to operate than Manute Bol in a hatchback, but it’s the absolute worst when the Bat sees his tablemates not give an inch. Least let the Bat get a meaty paw in there… come on fellas. Don’t be that guy that sees the Bat has nowhere to put his excess tricep flesh and wont slide your elbow over at all. But hey, end up the day you want to rub elbow to sweaty elbow so be it.

The Bat gives no quarter, but don’t get all fake friendly to the Bat like we could be boys outside of the poker room. When you are running to the parking lot like it’s 4:20 every break in between levels the Bat is enjoying a brew. The Bat gave up the whacky-tobacky back when people used to say whacky-tobacky and just because the Bat looks like the Blues Traveler singer when he was fat (or is he fat again he yo-yos like Oprah) doesn’t mean the Bat is going to toke the peace pipe.

Toke all you want though. The Bat is all for personal freedom, but the Bat isn’t for poker buddies that try to chat him up. The Bat doesn’t care about how you feel about the game on television, nor does the Bat want to cheer you on in the chatbox. The Bat ain’t going to be your real friend or your fake friend, and don’t mistake the Bat’s politeness for a general warmth toward you. It’s incidental because the Bat is just a magnetic personality. People perceive a Teddy Bear even though a grizzly lurks underneath, the Bat is solely playing poker to take your money over the long haul. Good thing to remember because most of your other poker “friends” are also after your money.

Other polite people, you know what, you the Bat likes, and one day after enough exchanges of genuine niceties the Bat might want to be ya’lls friend but you fake guys that butter up the people that will be raising your blinds or those that have position on you, just say your hot air away from the Bat. Bat’s got enough friends and got plenty of hot air, so much so, the Bat’s willing to share it in return. You gas too much with your upper hole the Bat will gas too much with his lower one. You catching the Bat’s drift? If you don’t, when you are seated next to the Bat you will.

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.

The Bat Rails about Rail Birds…

You know where you will never find the Bat? You won’t find in your chatbox after a Texas Holdem online tournament getting all gooey about a play the Bat’s friend made against you. You also want see the Bat leaning against a literal rail when the World Series of Poker comes to town. There is no such thing as a Rail-Bat and there never will be. There’s rail birds, jail birds, and jail bait and of the three the Bat don’t want no part of two, and he only wants some of third if no one is watching. Okay, the Bat don’t really want jail bait either, that was a joke, next thing you know that creepy guy that stalks creepy guys on NBC will be showing up at the Bat’s door.

The Bat hates the No Limit Texas Hold’em online railbirds the most. The live ones the Bat can tolerate. Usually, they are backing some dude that should have no chance to cash and got lucky, so god bless ya. You guys online are mostly just looking for a handout when your friend strikes it rich. God don’t bless ya so much. You know what Rail Birds figure out a way to win for yourself and stop polluting the chat boxes with you ramblings.

The Bat once was on his way to a nice online score and suddenly riding shot-gun in the side car were all these people the Bat had eliminated. The Bat does take kind to folks who butter-up looking for something in return. You kiss the Bat’s ass the only thing you get in return is coming from where you’re kissing. You beggers and fake fans are worse than the real fake beggars sitting on the corner hoping to get enough cash to make a drug score. Shame, because with times the way there are, there are going to be some good people in the need of help, and there will be a lot of bad people ruining the name of somebody in need of an honest hand out.

The Bat doesn’t want to get on a serious tip, the Bat wouldn’t be writing blogs if were to get on a serious tip, this is supposed to be fun, and berating the lowlifes and scallywags of the poker world is fun. So you railbirding beggars the Bat is calling you out.

Nobody is going to give a crumb to a gambler/card player in need of a crumb. What poker player is going to take out the checkbook and back a guy that needs backing for a $5 sit ‘n go or a $5 satellite unless something terrible happened. The Bat is all for giving people chances, second chances, and even third chances but don’t come begging asking for a stake for some low buy-in event and expect the Bat to want to take you on as a horse.

You can’t rub two nickels together to buy into a satellite the Bat ain’t rubbing two nickels together for you. That simple. If you were any good you would already be out of the hole by now. So next time the Bat’s chatbox blows up expect the Bat to tell you dweebs with out any concept of bankroll management to find some pride, stop begging, and get a real job.

The Bat’s got an ego on him, no doubt. The Bat always has had one, but the Bat remembers working hard to put together buy-ins for tournaments, going poker broke, and going real life broke and bouncing back. The Bat relied not on the charity of strangers but on the faith of friends who have seen the Bat’s success in poker before. Everybody has a downturn but don’t let yours turn you into a begging railtard.

The Poker Bat Ain’t No Poker Brat but Still Loves the Whine…

Yes, the Bat is back for the next installment in his award winning series on the most tilting things in poker and what gets the Bat in a mood every time he sets down to play Texas Holdem poker game.  Getting through this top 10 has been a bit of grind for the all knowing, all seeing, all feeling Poker Bat because even the Bat has limits.  To review the things that tilt the Bat in poker so far include in no order… Posers (because like actually models they have no worth) people that smell like death–to be precise like the actual smell you’d expect a skeleton with a syckle and a thin black robe that spends eternity ushering dead people from the here to the hereafter would smell, or more closely to home like cat piss and stale beer–, cleavage to nowhere, poker terms that are fishy like the term fishy, pointless debates, people that don’t have a clue how to tip, and online snobs.

Speaking of snobs its strange how close that word is too noobs yet snobs can’t tolerate noobs even if they once were.  Okay, now that the Bat has done the 12 days of christmas type in intro let the Bat get to the heart of the debate.  The Bat can’t stand… drumroll please….  brush with fame stories

Yes, your night in Vegas where you ran into Phil Ivey at the valet outside of the Rio on your way to another game of Omaha poker online while you were waiting for a cab and the man couldn’t get away from you doesn’t interest the Bat.  Here’s a newflash it doesn’t interest most people at the table.  In fact, the only people feigning interest in your attempts to name drop with a story that doesn’t go anywhere about a guy that didn’t give you the time of day are those waiting in the wings trying to one up you.

Oh you hung with Phil Ivey as he waited for his Bentley, well that schlub will now have to share with the whole table about that one time Doyle Brunson patted him on the backside and called him Missy when Doyle accidentally ran over the guy’s toe and the poor man screamed like a little, little girl.  Okay, probably the guy won’t be entirely honest and cop to the fact that Doyle’s scooter made him scream like a 12 year old Asian girl at a Justin Bieber concert (anybody else wonder if Bieber is just a lesbian dressing like a little boy and living out her ultimate fantasy–the haircuts are the same).  No, his retelling will probably have him outbluffing the Texas Dolly in a highstakes pot he entered by mistake. 

Those are worse than the fishing stories everybody tells around here.  When players actually play with their idols every story is either about the fish that got away or about the biggest most dangerous pot they every won–except they of course didn’t take a picture (threw the fish back).  The Bat simply doesn’t care that you once matched wits with Phil Hellmuth in a tournament or that you tried to tilt the 11 time bracelet winner.  Why?  Because the Bat knows it simply isn’t true.  Shut your yap about your idol and get back to playing poker and stop wasting everybody’s time with anectdotes that never happened.

We are at a poker table, debates or disagreements are bad enough, but throwing in some strangers quaint little tale about playing Gin Rummy with Toby Maquire just isn’t necessary.  Even worse is messing up the bio of the guy you are telling the story about.  “I once played online with Rush Hamilton he won the Main Event twice and was more well known as William Hung’s stunt double.”  Sure, sure you did.

Next thing you know the Bat will be hearing cryptic whoppers about online poker being rigged.  Anyway, the Bat is gassed, til next time when the Bat recounts his favorite tale about playing with the brooding Danny Masterson, his pal Fez, and Peyton Manning, adios.

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

The Poker Bat likes to poker bitch it seems, so the Poker Bat is back to bitching because the Bat has a top 10 to finish and is no where near the finish line. Where was the Bat on the Bat’s list of 10 things that tilts the Bat incredibly when the Bat plays Texas Hold’em online. Okay, to review People That Don’t Have A Clue How to Tip (you suck), People That Smell Like Death Warmed Over (or Death cold, or Death hot, or Death at any temparture… you suck more), Posers (you suck more), Fish terms like Fish (people that say them suck) and having Debates of any variety at a poker table (fruitless endeveor). That’s five of ’em. Now for complaint number six.

Online snobs–Okay it’s not a complaint, but the Bat hates the Know-It-All online snot nosed kid snobs that talk about equity and calls monster draws the nuts when they aren’t, even if they are statistically favored over the current nuts. Make sense? No? Okay, talk to an online player and they might call an open ended straight flush draw with two overs as the nuts on the flop Fellas you need to Learn Texas Holdem if you want to start using the jargon. Granted it’s a favorite to just about any hand (though a dog to top set) but why call it the nuts?

Then, these online guys will sit there with their Skullcandy headphones pumping teen pop cheese into their head and subjecting the rest of us to Lady GagGag with their appalling inability to control the volume and then criticize people for acting out of turn. Look shorty, you have to be bumped twice when it’s your turn to act because “My Po-Po-Pokerface” is shaking everybody with the base from you head phones. Drinks are spilling because the volume is too loud.

It would be fine if they’d just take the Bat’s money without a comment except getting these people not to comment in live poker is like getting them to honor a 6 pm curfew. They should be at home popping their acne protrusions instead of felting the Bat. Worst is when they take your money betting the cum on their draws they always seem to hit and when the Bat is pot stuck to call their river bet they inform the Bat he should know better than to call there.

Now, let’s not get confused the Bat plays online poker. The Bat loves some online players and giggles at the Photoshops they make on their online poker forums. The Bat would be a photoshop legend if the Bat had a shop to take his photos to make all those cartoons and stuff. Those online players are all right with the Bat and they ain’t snobs. The rest of you jerkholes with your pithy responses and your comples -EV calculations can go find a degree in Rocket Science and build something worthwhile to jettison into space and maybe you can ride with it.

The Bat likes to mix it up and he welcomes online players that find the back bone and the strenght to mix it up but invariably these little footstools have neither the intestines nor the spine to get rough when collecting a debt. If the worst thing that can happen to the Bat if he didn’t pay back a spoilt 21 year old millionaire was to get ridiculed on a message board please send all your spoilt 21 year old millionaires a letter of introduction. Puh-leeze.

Again, this isn’t all the online players just the smarmy little tykes that a week ago stopped suckling their mommas teet and when they go broke just call Daddy for another deposit. You guys the Bat don’t like. Respect your elders and know your role at the poker table. K? The rest of you, thank you for being so polite when taking the Bat’s money. You just might get a return customer.

This Poker Bat Ain’T No Poker Brat Continues…

The Bat is in Vegas. The less said the better. Oh sure, the Bat will give you a trip report sooner or later, later being the truthful word, or the more truthful word, as there ain’t one coming anytime soon. The Bat taking a break from the online casino long enough to write this post is going to go back to the top ten things the Bat hates at a poker table. Now the Bat is loving his slots right now people so this is a big concession. Thank the Bat for it sometime.

So far the Bat has critiqued Posers (yeah you know who you are and you know the Bat ain’t talking about people who model in magazines and such), Fish (the term not the food), Dumbass poker table Debates (we are headed for a race war, Doyle Brunson is older than fishsticks, and Shag carpeting got its name from the people rolling around it now its shaggy nature–all pointless debates, the Bat’s answers in order 1. No. 2. Yes 3. Yes shag carpeting became popular because you can shag on it, but no debate has its place on a poker table. We sit on chairs not soapboxes people. Hit the Internet and start a blog if you want to spout off, that’s what the Poker Bat does), and finally Dead Man’s Funk (you smell like you are dead, go to a hospital or a morgue but don’t play poker next to the Bat).

Okay, now it’s time for the Bat’s latest edition to the things that suck at a poker table… People that don’t have a clue how to tip. Remember when those dealers from Harrahs Darrel and Jason L used to post on their blogs over at http://www.gulfcoastpoker.net? Yeah when was that two years ago last? One of them, think it was “DaRockofAces” talked about deserving a redbird every now and then. Well, here’s your redbird darrell.

Tip your dealers when you win. Don’t be taking a huge chunk of the money off the table but tip the guys in the ugly vests a little something. Not because they dealt you the best hand but because you are the one winning and it’s your job to help pay the salaries of the sclubs dealing the cards. When you lose you don’t have to tip–isn’t that a great system?

Okay, the Bat has ranted before how tipping to pay the dealers is an assbackwards casino gambit to have the players actually pay their employees wages. The Bat don’t like that. Granted. The Bat would ascribe to the theory that if nobody tipped the casinos would then have to start paying their dealers appropriately or risk losing them. And while there are some grade a dooschbags who try that scam with waiters the Bat knows we aren’t all going to just up and stop tipping at one time together. So, since that ain’t going to happen when you win a big pot throw a dealer a bone or two. If it’s really big throw them a redbird or a blackbird or a pinky if you are that big time.

Then you got the other side of the equation doofuses that can’t seem to recognize they pour all their modest profits into the dealer’s box. If you are lucky to make $200 in an evening and you tip $5 a hand and you win 15 hands, you’d be maing an extra $60 if you were just tipping a dollar. That’s almost a third more than your current win rate. Don’t be stupid in either direction you morons.

Alright, that’s about it from the Bat today. Until next time same batsite, same Poker Bat.

This Poker Bat Ain’t No Poker Brat Part III–unfinished business

The Poker Bat usually gets a blog out every week and is a model of consistency, which is why the Bat’s blog should be as high on the Gulf Coast Poker.Net’s columns list as Doyle Brunson’s pants are on his waist. The Bat’s back, after killing in playing bwin poker, and the Bat will be posting more often, but speaking of nipple pants you ever notice as you get old your pants start to creep up to your shoulders.

Hugh Heffner figured out long ago, it was better to just throw a robe over those highriders than to let everybody see that diaper bulge coming out your crotch area up to your belly button. Wonder if Heffner has every played poker seems like he was too busy doing other things (or people) to bother with the game but he’d probably be a joy to have at the table. Just for the people railing him… so to speak. The Bat doesn’t doubt that the Heff is probably just killing Online Sit and go poker tournaments in his spare time.

The Bat ain’t wearing adult diapers yet but the Bat is still bitching about his least favorite things in poker, whether it’s on an online chat box or happening right before the Bat’s face. Let’s get with it and number seven is…

Dead Man’s Funk – Despite the obvious segue the Bat ain’t talking about the stink the comes up from Depends–what a weird name seems like it should be Dependable or Surely but not depends… like yeah they’ll do the job but it depends if you are wearing them right or the temperature outside is near 60 degrees, no when you are talking about wearing your number one or your number two there should be no depends about it. The Bat is actually we are talking about that flesh rot that old men can’t seem to get off their skin. It’s not that they don’t shower, or maybe it is, maybe they just can’t wipe the funk from the folds of their wrinkles, but whatever it is, they should fix it. Hell, take a bath in Old Spice if you must, or All Spice for that matter, don’t just come to the table smelling like the Spice Girls tour bus after a run in with an Marines unit.

The Dead Man’s funk is the reason the Bat will never offer all 320 pounds of Bat love to a Cougar type, even if she was Courtney Cox hot, and had the deep pockets to bankroll a losing poker career for the Bat (hey variance people can be a long twenty or forty year ordeal people), is because of the Dead Man’s funk. People should date (and dress) their age. Old people grow old together. Their noses stop working at the same time and their hearing gives out roughly at the same age. That way they don’t smell each other and they don’t hear themselves farting non-stop. Ashton Kutcher is one day going to wake up and look at his wrinkled Demi, hear her old lady flatulation, and smell her deteriorating skin, and wonder what happened to that flower he fell in love with. Think that boy won’t be out the door the day all of Moore’s farts become juicy? Then what’s Demi going to do cruise the early bird specials at the IHOP for single retirees? Date and marry your age people!

Anyway, as the Bat likes to do, the Bat has gone off the tracks. Old people if you smell like death douse yourself in something that masks it, if you can’t wash it off you but don’t come to the table reeking like a zombie. The Bat brushes his teeth, cleans his buttockaments, scrubs the heck out of his pits, and tries to have some general hygiene he expects the same courtesy. Obviously, long sessions bring funk, but the only time you should smell like a coffin is when you are in one.

The Poker Bat Ain’t No Poker Brat

The Bat hates certain things, and today the Bat is going to take a break from Texas Hold’em online games to talk about some of the things the Bat hates. Now the Bat don’t want to come off like a Poker Brat, because bloggers that just bitch and whine are typically just bitches and whiners. The Bat ain’t neither. That being said here’s the Bat bitching and whining.

Number 10 thing the Bat hates in todays poker game:

Posers– You know who you are. Sitting there chip riffling like you Antonio Esfandiari, sitting there under a hood like you Phil Laak, sitting there chit-chatting away like you Daniel Negreanu, you a fool. When you at a $100 buy-in tournament don’t start acting like you something you not. You are what your buy-in is. If you got staked to play that level tournament you not even that. That Bat says, be who you are, be you, and if you going pose start posing like you the Bat instead of somebody you seen on TV.

What’s next an army of Tom Dwan wannabes. Dressed up like elf vampires in search of some blood to guzzle? Spare the Bat that day (unless of course they look like the elf vampire in the picture: Tami Dwan). Enough with the Phil Hellmuths that are everywhere these days. Who needs another idiot to chastise the herd of idiots that revere the guy. The Bat says Phil Hellmuth can take a walk to the middle of the Gulf and start cleaning up the oil spill by drinking it.

Number 9 thing the Bat hates in today’s poker game:

Fish– Not the players or the wannabe players not the synonym for donkeys but the term Fish and the term donk and the term donkey and the term donkfish and the term lunchbox. When was the last time a fish jumped out the water and ate you? Never. When the Fish can beat the shark like a rented mule it’s time to stop calling them fish. Sure a donkey can kick back, that makes a little more sense, but if you got call a player an animal use donkey, but why they got to be animals? What’s wrong with idiot, moron, buffoon, or Gumpface. Nothing wrong with any of that. Got it Gumpfaces?

Number 8 thing the Bat hate’s in today’s poker game

Dumbass Debates–Bat also don’t like it when people got to criticize the players aka the Fish that can barely get their chips in order and make a bet. Let them be idiots, don’t tell them no different, and why waste the air you breathe to argue of the nuances of a poker point. String raise, min-raise, re-raise, hate raise, pay raise, that’s all dealer only territory. Let the dealer settle it. You think telling a fish why he’s wrong will earn you something then you’re wrong. Let it go.

You think debating whether or not Roger Clemens got as much grief as Barry Bonds did is going to solve any racial problems with your neigbor to the left? That claims otherwise? Who cares who’s right in that debate anyway. How you going to settle it anyway. Who cares about Healthcare at the table? Who cares about any big topic, you are a poker table, care about getting your money to the middle so the Bat can take it. You think you going to solve something at Sit and go poker tournaments? Now, the Bat can recognize when somebody is trying to get under another’s skin to tilt them, but too many times this “sly” maneuver only chases away the guys that are good for the game.

The Bat says agitate outside the casino. Some of these kids should be forced to sit by the doorway until the old timer they were barking at comes outside. At that point age goes out the window, because the Bat knows when the old guy gets the first shot in, it’s usually over.

The Bat’s got more to come later…