It seems like all he's been doing lately is glancing at his cards, looking frustrated, rubbing his face so that his World Series ring gleams in the light, flinging the hand down and folding.
The rubbing the face thing. That's his tell. Especially if he pushes his hat up and swipes at his forehead. I watched him do that night after night on the mound. Wiping one hand across his mouth and then scratching at his nose with his thumb, that's a sign he has a good hand. It's so obvious. Because the forehead thing, that's what happened in Game 1 of the ALCS, and Game 6, and Game 2 of the World Series, when he was hurting and struggling. The hand across the mouth and the thumb to the nose, that was common with a full count and a batter that looked about to wet his pants, as Curt turned to come set and finish him off.
Probably it's a good thing his opponents aren't
stalkers Red Sox fans.
Kellie called a few minutes ago to make sure I was watching. "Your man's winning!" she said excitedly.
"What, no he's not!?" I looked back at the TV. I know nothing about poker whatsoever, so I could have been wrong.
"But he's the chips leader!" Kellie cried.
"Right, but they just said that everyone at the table had been the chips leader so far, at one time or another," I replied.
"You know, Beth..." Kellie said, after a pause. "We need to work on your 'happy skills'."
Meanwhile, Curt just folded. Again.
I'd much rather watch him pitch. This poker thing is just a tease.
P.S. Brad Garrett just put on a Yankees cap. Curt just sort of smiled at him. This could get much more interesting.
P.P.S. Curt lost. He hobbled on his crutches into the Loser's Lounge. He raised $5000 for the S.H.A.D.E. Foundation, but he is PISSED. Which is, of course, why I love him.
"Whelp." One of the commentators said, as he hobbled along. "Looks like this just isn't your year."