This month has been an utter disaster. There, I’ve said it. At the back end of last month I was praying to the poker gods for my hands to hold up, but they decided to continue punishing me, probably for my atheist beliefs. Feeling a little sick after a bout of outdraws I was hoping that they would be curtailed by this new column, like the beginning of a new school term perhaps – you know, that bit where the teacher says the slate has been wiped clean and previous indiscretions forgotten. No such luck. I lose four straight coin-flips in a row, and then get it all-in with Kings against Eights pre-flop and Jacks against K-9 on the turn of a Nine-high board.