Just Poker Talk

When I heard Doyle’s Room was leaving the US market come March 1, 2007, my biggest concern was my deposit bonus. Back in the summer of 2005, I deposited 200 dollars to receive a 100 dollar bonus, of which required me to earn 20,000 Action Points. Lucky for me the bonus never expires and I was able to chip away, playing sporadically over the last year and a half, at least until last week.

On February 20, 2007, I sat at 12,000 AP and my plan was to earn 1000 AP by playing 3-5 hours a day, or however many hours was necessary. In order to accumulate AP at a faster rate, I decided to play two tables at a time, one at 50NL and another at 20NL. Low limit grinders would have no problem clearing the bonus within this time frame, however I am not that type of player.

I always considered myself a recreational player, the same way some people call themselves recreational smokers. This is what I tell non-poker players when the topic of conversation becomes poker. Somehow I believe this answer separates me from the degenerate gamblers and the grinders, that I have control, that I have responsibility. But in reality none of those characteristics describe me.

My quest to clear my deposit bonus has brought back memories of two years ago when I played poker five plus hours a day, except this time I’m not addicted. A different force is driving me this time. I want 100 dollars plain and simple. The other reason is that I spent so much time trying to clear the bonus that there’s no turning back. I’m pot committed. But mostly it’s because I need the money, more for what it symbolizes than the actual monetary value.

With graduation from college coming up in a few months, money or the lack thereof has become an important issue for me, a threat that imposes on my freedom. The paradox is that to gain freedom I must give up my freedom.

A sense of urgency and determination is pushing me to clear this bonus. The grueling hours and losing 130 dollars in the first three days has not stopped me. All of this reminds me of working, that feeling I got in my head every morning when I drove to work that said, “Turn around. Head and get some sleep. I quit. Screw this job. It’s not worth it.” Over the years I’ve listened to my conscious more often than not and quit a handful of jobs. This is what I mean when I say I have no sense of control or responsibility.

The reasons why I play poker, however, are not that simple. After I clear the bonus, I will continue to play poker on a periodic basis, and the reason for this is because I have this problem of wanting to be the best at everything I do. This reason will always be the one thing that keeps me from quitting the game for good, though sometimes I wish I would so I can concentrate on writing.

Feel free to tell me why you play poker. I’m interested in hearing your poker stories.