Boy: Do not try and bend the spoon. That's impossible. Instead... only try to realize the truth. Neo: What truth?Boy: There is no spoon.Neo: There is no spoon?Boy: Then you'll see, that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself. -The Matrix Back in Biloxi, there was an unfamiliar sensation -- sand underneath my feet and cool water from the Gulf. During the poker trip last August, we passed by this beach at least a dozen times. But we weren't there to enjoy the shore. We were there to make money. Saw a bunch of trash -- plastic bottles -- on the shore. The sand caved underneath my feet. We saw a fish that had been picked clean, everything except the head, like something out of a cartoon. The plan was to go there, let Jill take in some sun, and then I would make my way back to the casinos. Revenge was in order. First chance I had last August, I settled in at the Grand Casino-Biloxi's $10/20 limit table. And got crushed by the waves of variance. I lost $600 just like that, my last insult being losing with AA to a flush that a gray-hair made with the 2 of clubs. "Looks like it's time for me to go to the kiddie table," I said before making my way to the $1-4-8-8 spread limit tables. I held my own the rest of the trip. Up and down, playing spread limit, some $1-2 NL and even making $270 at the Grand's $5-10 NL table, where Mark and I maxed out our daily ATM withdrawal ($500) just to play. I've never been more out of my element than I was there. I was looking forward to taking some money out of Biloxi. I hadn't planned on going there at all. One plan initially was that I would drive there on my way to New Orleans, taking advantage of an extra day of vacation that I had off. But I decided to fly with Jill to New Orleans instead. The day I was to leave Atlanta, Poker Girl called me, saying we should go to Biloxi. But I already made plans for that Memorial Day weekend. But in New Orleans, Jill talked up a woman at the Riverbend bar we were at (The Maple Leaf) and was told she should go to the Gulf shores if she wanted to find a good beach. And I knew exactly where that was. It's surprisingly close from New Orleans. You just take Interstate 10. It's an hour and change. We played on the beach for a little bit and then settled into wooden beach chairs there, where we proceeded to play heads-up hold'em. Then it started to rain. That really changed everything. Now there really wasn't much for Jill to do. She said I could still play poker if I wanted. We went into the Grand-Biloxi to pick up chips for myself, Sham and Drew. No tables were open. We made stops at the President and the Copa to get $1 chips for the gang. Jill stayed in the car and read. My last chance was to play at the Grand Casino-Gulfport, my favorite of the four poker rooms in the area. But it wasn't fair. I didn't have to play while Jill had nothing to do. I picked up chips in the poker room for my friends and then we came back early. It would have been sooo sweet, but revenge wasn't in the cards. Sometimes you're just happy to leave to play again another day.

Source: Poker Cats