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Stacy Fritts

Nickname: just one more

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Location: Colorado

Email: stacylfritts@gmail.com

Member Twitter Account @stacyfritts


Profile

I'm a Fritts now! Just one more name I have to spell out since it's spelled wrong. Hometown: Gaithersburg, MD Favorite Hand: Jack 10 Go Terps! Beat Duke!

Blogs

In Search of Redemption

Submitted On: 01/07/2017

My first year in the league, about 7 years ago, I had barely a clue what I was doing. Not too much different than today. I ended up 19th (out of 20) in the final standings going into the finale. The cards were with me that night and I took out 9 people on my way to a second place finish and a seat in a $1500 tournament.

My table was pretty friendly. One seat sat empty at the start. After about an hour or so the last seat was filled with a Jamaican who had just driven in from California to play that morning. He completely changed the table with his aggressive, cocksure play and constant talk. He shoved a lot, won a lot of pots, had the cards at showdown, and took people out. He drank coffees with milk and honey and told us how great he was. I enjoyed the spectacle. I was doing well myself. My stack had grown to maybe 3 times what we started with. I took out four people. I had pocket Aces back to back that went to show down both times. The table was stunned the second time I turned them over and I couldn't keep the grin off my face. Playing was fun and I had settled in feeling less nervous (ever so slightly less) than when I had started.

Then came my first run-in with the Jamaican. I can't remember the exact hand that time but I had made a decent bet into him and he sat there contemplating for a long time. Another player called clock. That pissed the Jamaican off and he and the player who called clock started in on each other. Then the Jamaican flashed his cards, hesitated a beat, and finally folded. The other guy yelled "He flashed his cards", and Jamaican was penalized for an entire round. As he left the table he told the player, don't worry you'll be gone by the time I get back. I took out the clock-caller before the Jamaican got back My second run-in with the Jamaican was my downfall in the tournament. I was dealt KQ of diamonds. I raised and had a couple callers including the Jamaican. The flop came off Q, 4, 3 with two diamonds. I bet and the Jamaican raised me. At this point it was just the two of us. My only option was to go back over him all in. I sat there and sat there terrified of ending my tournament life. He was so aggressive and had the cards so many times when he had to show. I folded. I had top pair and four to the flush and while my stack was decent it wasn't big enough to guarantee bagging by that point. I let myself get bullied by another player. He owned me in that hand. The what-ifs have haunted me since.

I ended up playing 11 hours in that tournament before getting taken down shortly before midnight and heading up to the Voodoo Lounge pissed off and defeated. It was a great run for someone only playing for maybe a year or so who was still clueless Fast forward to the present and I'm actually sitting well in the league standings. Could this be the year I win another seat and get a chance to redeem myself? But when it comes down to it, have I really changed that much from the girl afraid to risk her chips and tournament life when challenged by a more aggressive player?

Member of the Month

Submitted On: 01/14/2014
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I survived!

Submitted On: 06/24/2009
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