I had to look again, just because I wasn’t quite sure what I was reading the first time. I slowly eyed the line of all caps to the right of the figure.
“DOJ POKER STARS POKERPAY01 ******* 061214.”
No. Really? I guess it’s true. At long last, I have cashed out from Full Tilt Poker.
My first thought was to compare the three years and almost two months it took to recover those funds to the couple of weeks it took to get what I had over at PokerStars. (I had jumped ship from both Absolute Poker and UltimateBet way, way, way before in late 2007 when the first insider cheating scandal at AP broke.)
That wasn’t too revealing of a comparison, though. One event was more or less a pleasant surprise. The other was delayed to such unreasonable lengths and buried under so many inconsequential subplots, false leads, long-smoldering outrage, and abject resignation that it hardly seemed like they belonged to the same category. Besides, it took too much mental work even to remember the earlier one, let alone view it in terms of the latter one.
So I thought further about it. Was it more like getting some kind of surprise discount after having already paid for something? Receiving unexpected tax refund for overpayment? Winning a raffle when I hadn’t realized someone else had dropped my name in the hat?
Or how about being pushed a pot unexpectedly after getting my river bluff called, then finding out I had the best hand after all?
Nah, I thought. More like the faintest of echoes, like a letter reminding you of something you used to do -- a camp you once visited, a vacation from long ago -- something meaningful once upon a time, but that you haven’t thought about for a long, long time.
Then I just stopped thinking about it altogether. Just like I’d gradually stopped thinking about the old Full Tilt Poker, too.
Good luck to everyone else getting theirs.