Editor’s Note: This is another of amateur player Lee Davy’s monthly diaries chronicling his attempt to build a $45,000 online poker bankroll by May, and its effect on his home, job, family and psyche. Last month his roll stood at $8,200. That money is now gone. This is his story.

By Lee Davy

I was sat watching the television with my wife Debbie and 9-year old son Jude when an advertisement came on featuring the face of Adolf Hitler.

“That’s Hitler, isn’t it Dad?” My son asked.

“Yes son, it is,” I replied.

“He’s a white supremacist, isn’t he Dad?” said Jude.

My wife and I looked at each other in a state of shock. “White Supremacist” was not a word I expected from a 9-year old.

“Yes he was! Are you learning about the Holocaust in school, son?” I uttered proudly.

“Holo-what?” said my bewildered son? “No. I saw it on Family Guy the other night!”

Family Guy aside, he did come home from school the other day with homework based on emotions. He was explaining to me that there are two types of emotions, “primary” and “secondary.” There are six main primary emotions and then a whole plethora of secondary emotions. In his homework he had to ask me a whole series of questions and I had to answer them as honestly as possible. Most of my responses were grouped in two “primary” emotional groups: “Anger” and “Sadness.

In fact, I am rather angry that I am so sad! I believe there should be a seventh primary emotion and I would like to call it TILT.

The Tilt-Headed Monster

Tommy Angelo defines TILT as follows: Tilt is any deviation from your A-game and your A-mindset, however slight or fleeting.

I used to think that TILT consisted of one hand that was played in a sub-optimal way directly after losing a prior hand. After a while I started to extend this thought process and understood that TILT used to follow me throughout an entire session. I now know that TILT follows me throughout my life, away from the poker tables – it is like a stalker and a very elusive one at that because I don’t even realise it is there until it is too late.

Nine years ago when my son was born I gave up my 20-per-day cigarette habit. People who smoke will tell you that giving up cigarettes is the hardest thing to do in the world. To me it was the easiest. In order to give up cigarettes, I just had to change my mindset. Unfortunately, my mind is 35 years old, so it does take some time to remove all the inaccurate thoughts, feelings and views on nicotine and replace them with the new more accurate and realistic ones. I managed it, though, and never craved a cigarette from the day I declared I had finished with them.

More than 18 months ago I decided to abstain from alcohol. I used the same methodology and haven’t drunk since. It seems that my latest battle is with TILT and like nicotine and alcohol before it I am determined to win. Unfortunately, TILT has put its boxing gloves on, rung the bell and punched me right in the nose before I have even got my gloves on!

Important Day

February 9^th is a very important day in the Davy calendar. It is my son’s birthday. It wasn’t a good week for a secondary emotion known as “shame” to rear its ugly head and try to pick a fight with primary emotions “joy” and “love,” but it did!  As so often happens, “shame” beat the crap out of “joy” and “love.”  There is always a catalyst for a good scrap and the catalyst for this one was TILT.

TILT invades my mind and tries to stop me from thinking clearly. It is very successful and I forget things, important things!

“Debs, I have two dates for you to put in the diary: Saturday 13^th and the 27^th of February,” I told my wife. “I am going to the casino on both nights for some tournaments.”

“The 13^th? A week Saturday?” said Debbie whilst giving me that “have you forgotten something” look.

“What?” I said rather angrily.

“Jude’s birthday party! He has five of his friends coming around for a sleepover. I have told you loads of times and Jude has.”

“So what do you want me to stay in for?” I said.

“To help me look after five kids! Are you going to the pub on Tuesday to play cards as well?” Debbie asked.

“You know I always do.” I said.

“But it’s your son’s birthday!” she said. “We are having a tea party and then watching a DVD.”

“Can I go to the pub at 21:00?” I said.

“Do what you want!” said Debbie.

When you translate “do what you want” from the language of women to the language of men, it’s translation is something like this: “Yes, you can go to the pub, but if you do please make sure you take all of your clothes, leave your house keys and f--k off!”

I guess I wasn’t going to the pub after all.

To Play or Not to Play

Tuesday quickly came around and as planned we had a birthday party for my son and settled down to watch his favourite DVD. All I could think about were the lads down the pub and the fact that I was missing my cards. At 20:45 my mobile rang and it was Wayne.

“Look, we are on a break and have given you £30 worth of chips, but we have started to blind you out,” said Wayne.

“OK,” I said quietly.

And that was it. With my son’s favourite film on the TV and a host of family members sat on the settee, I got up and went to the pub. On the way down in the car I started to feel awful. What had been a very joyful and happy day had sunk to the depths of depravity, and I felt very shameful indeed. I got down to the pub and was knocked out in one hand. I then continued to lose in the cash games that we played later on.

Later that night I couldn’t sleep and spent the entire day at work feeling very remorseful for what I had done. I was on such a horrible Internet downswing, and yet winning whilst playing live, and that is why I was so determined to go to the pub that night, despite it being a day as important as my son’s birthday. I believe TILT somehow managed to find its way from the poker table to my “real life.”

When I got home from work I immediately hugged my son and asked him if he had enjoyed himself on his birthday.

“I did until the part when you left to go to the pub,” he said.

“Yeah, but that didn’t spoil things for you son, did it?” I said, trying to make myself feel better.

“Not really, Dad” he said. “Did you win?”

Even aged 9 he is astute enough to try to make his Dad feel good even though I had spoiled his day.

Losses Take a Toll

Since I started my goal I have never experienced a downswing as long and as hard as the one I am currently going through. The continual cycle of loss after loss obviously affects your game and your mindset. This is more than just a game. My first greatest love was football. Nothing I experienced during my highs and lows when I was playing football felt like this.

It was 21^st June 2009, when I started my goal of trying to win $45,000 by May. On the 29^th of January 2010, my birthday, I did not log on to play poker. During that time I had been to Spain on a fortnight’s holiday and played every day and also played Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. So when I did not log on, part of me thought I was cured! That I would never play online again. All this misery would go away. TILT was just about to win the war, and I felt relieved.

“Happy Birthday, mate! How did you get on this morning?” said Neil over the phone.

Neil Farm and I had spoken religiously every day from the moment that this goal began. At times he was more excited than me as progress was made on the ’net. Lately, he sounds as depressing as I feel!

“I didn’t play,” I said.

“Oh, are you going to play later instead?” he said.

“No, I am not playing ever again unless I get myself a coach.” I said.

“What!” said a shocked Neil.

“I cannot beat it, Neil, and I am wasting my money,” I confidently told him.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” he said, rather concerned. “Just concentrate on playing live; you are doing well each week. Just give it a break for a while.”

“A break is no good. I need a coach. If I don’t get a coach then I won’t play, pure and simple. I cannot do this on my own,” I said.

Fateful Admission

I had admitted it to myself. I could beat nicotine and alcohol but I could not beat TILT and I could not beat this game. I was always a great believer that the more you worked hard, gained experience and practised at something the better you would become. So why after 190,000 hands have I gotten worse?

I am a sensible person. I can acknowledge when I am not good at something but it doesn’t feel right to acknowledge that I am not good at poker. My gut is telling me that I am wrong, I shouldn’t quit – I am good at playing poker!

It was obvious that I had gotten lost trying to find my roadmap to success. Getting lost had cost me 190,000 hands, $10,000 and eight months of valuable time. If I had learnt one thing from this experience, it was that I could not afford to continue trying to find my way on my own. I needed to find a shortcut or someone who knew a shortcut.

There must be someone out there who has been where I am and has found the way home.

It was time to find a coach.