Poker Tournaments for the Pokerly Challenged

This weekend found us driving down to Andy's brother's house for a visit with the boys. (Actually the boys were with us, and we drove down to visit Andy's brother and family. Fear my sentence construction. Fear it!) As is tradition whenever the Olsen family gets together, we played a game of poker. I have long suspected that I am not a great poker player, but after this weekend, I feel fairly certain that I may in fact be the worst poker player in the world. I went out the first time before Matty had even depleted half of his chips. After being bought back in, I found myself out again after five minutes.

I wonder if they have poker tournaments for pokerly challenged individuals like myself. I can see it now. After rigorous skill level testing, they place name cards out at the tables, aligning players of equal skill level. I search among the tables until I find my name.

Slyly I peek at the other name cards at my table. They read "Spike," "Charles," and "Crocus." Crocus, I muse to myself, that's an odd name. One by one the players arrive, while my table remains empty. And then an usher comes by and places at the table a dog, a three year old, and a potted plant. Spike pants. Charles drools. Crocus remains stonily silent. My heart lifts. I may have a chance!

Four and a half minutes later I walk away from the table chipless, deeply admiring the potted plant's poker face. I didn't even see that bluff coming.

I guess you can't be good at everything. Someone as gifted as I am shouldn't be envious of others' poker skills. I mean, I'm really excellent at popping my knuckles. And I can put away a whole bag of chips in a single sitting. Those count as talents, right? Right?

Cyndi