I had decided against continuing this blog – and others in other fields.  I had yet to find a voice I like and a focus I didn’t despise.  And yet I find myself continuing it now, because I have suddenly found my voice, at last and from long ago, because this was a good day.

Today at dawn I started the day from hell – a bus tour that visited bath, the cotswold and stonehenge.  I hate bus travel.  However I agreed to sacrifice my day and endure the inevitable sickness that followed out of love for my marriage-adopted family.

6:30pm found me in a Hibachi grill in london shaking slightly and feeling cadaverous.

6:40pm saw me noticing something strange about the ostensibly married middle-aged couple opposite us.

6:50pm I was now positive that despite the wedding bands they both wore they weren’t married to each other.  My wife and her family were skeptical but I felt a sureness to my intuition.  His body language told of his desire to bed her, but occasionally he’d turn away and look pained.  Her body language was half towards him, half pulling away as if deeply conflicted.  It was obvious that she at least had never been to a hibachi grill before.  They were way too talkative and interested in each other to be married.

8pm – first my wife and then her family accepted what I had sensed long before.  The evidence piled high upon itself and became obvious to even a casual observer.  The angst on the couple before us was writ large and the truth of my early call made obvious.

Between the last two events  the thought crossed my mind, “how frustrating, why do they not immediately trust my judgement, I’d stake my entire bankroll on my conclusion.”  Followed swiftly by the thought “That’s exactly what I do do for a living – I back my judgement with significant chunks of my money”.  And this was followed swiftly by the realisation “no you don’t”. Then silence.

I have wondered why live success on a UK tour that is ostensibly so soft, eludes me.  It is because I do not truly see the players before me.  I fail to see their fears and desires and plans.  If I do percieve then I do not have faith in my vision.  I played “mathematically” nowadays, afraid of the fall of the cards more than in control of them, reactive rather than proactive.  I quote mathematically because I have been largely playing the weaksauce version that people mean when they use the word disparagingly.  I broke my heart and will and all that I once was against the 25/50 PLO game in January ‘07.

Perhaps not my will.  And on reflection the time has not been completely wasted – the technical side of my game has improved vastly, I have of necessity learned the skills of game selection and self-control so that I could survive while my spirit had been broken and my soul forsaken.  But the brilliant part of me, the core that held so much potential had died in the fires of a 25/50 PLO game entered too early and too rashly.

Today as if a phoenix resurrecting from the embers of the death-like rigor that seized me, I felt reborn.  In the knowledge of my instincts and swift judgement being shown strong and true I felt myself rekindle inside.   The WSOP part-success, the recent urge to play higher and prove myself, the defiance and betrayal I felt when mistakes sabotaged me hinted that I was still here, but the roar in my soul removes all doubt and hesitation.

I travel to Newcastle the day after tomorrow for the final GCBPT leg of the year.  If by the vagaries of chance I do not win here then I will win in Blackpool, or Bristol or London.  It is no longer a matter of “if” but merely “when”.  I almost feel sorry for those who also enter.   The bloodfrenzy flows through my veins as I feel myself swell once more, a primal scream of bloodlust echoing in my heart.  And I am stronger now than ever I was – hellfire steeled by experience and wider skills.

It has been a long while but I am back.  I am whole once more.  I am dragon.  And I am wakened.