May the best man win, a common sentiment. A sentiment I do not care for, money is on the line here, this is no time to be nice, that money in the pot is mine. Cards looking good, pocket pair in hand, anxiously anticipating the rest of the cards. I don’t show anxiety. I don’t show emotion. Eyes of glass, face of stone …unreadable. Pocket pair, a secret I shall fiercely protect. It all depends on the cards in the middle now, what will they be, is it worth the risk. Shall I raise? Shall I call? My insticts key to success, is that a bluff, or do they possess that specific comibination of cards capable of see me moving back in with my parents. Raising money on the weekends by walking dogs, having to dispose of the mess they will undoubtely cause, a bag a warm brown mess possibly awaiting. It all comes down to this, I’m going all in. I can see I’m ahead… a certain winner.
Is a gambler’s mindset a testament to human nature, and the hope which we all feel in any given scenario. Does it show that joy outweighs sorrow. The jubilation of winning enough to keep going, even against the devastation of loss. In an instant the loss just experienced, wiped away by the excitement and euphoria of wining, the hope has prevailed, nevermimd what has happened previously, this moment is what counts.
This is in no way an advertisement for gambling rather than an observation of human behaviour. It shows that even with all that happens in our world, the light still outshines the dark.