So this is what "Self-Destructive Behavior" means

I'm so pissed off at myself I can hardly speak. Well, let's not go too far, there's no end to the love I have for the sound of my own voice. Anyway, why am I pissed?

I'll tell you why: In the tournament that would mean either profit or loss for the evening, during the hand that was so important to finishing in the money, at what arguably could be called the most important single moment of the night, I lost hand, game, and evening, by playing a hand I swore I would not play again.

I lost more than half my stack by playing...wait for it...pocket sevens.

Look over my last few posts. You'll see my sincerity. You'll see the light of newfound knowledge. And for sure, there's no zealot like a convert. I saw the error of my ways. Promises were made and for a while, kept. I would NOT play 77. I would NOT play KJ. I would NOT play A2 (or any of its friends). I would NOT play QJ.

And the bitch of it is, it was working. I was winning more, going deeper more, playing more solidly, losing only when my great hand was up against a better hand (AK vs AA for example) and my opponent sucking out (which stings a lot less when you're not helping your cause by losing because you're an idiot). And as I mentioned to a pal a few days ago, if my game seems unimaginative and a bit ABC, well, that's fine as long as I start winning with regularity.

But I looked down at 77, one of which was a diamond, and a board of 346 all diamonds or something like that, and I couldn't help myself. Having forgotten all my teachings, for no greater reward than winning a small hand or even just the blinds, I make a giant bet with my 7's and held my breath.

I did not have to wait long. My opponent (I can't even with sincerity call him the villain) re-popped for all his chips, only a few hundred more than my bet. At this point I was priced in irrespective of what I had, so I called to find he (with KJ, how's that for irony) had his flush all made and happy, and I was dead to one card for a straight flush. Guess what? It didn't come. And I lost the hand.

And bubbled for the money.

Which meant a losing night.

Because I forgot what I learned and played a documented loser of a hand.

For want of a nail, the kingdom was lost. And I'm so pissed I can hardly speak.