Fireworks on the Fourth

I didn’t see any fireworks on July 4^th.  Not in a literal sense, anyway.  But the table I was playing at that night saw plenty.

Soon after I was seated, Brent pushed into to deal.  This was the first time I had seen him this visit.  That’s because it was his first day back from a long vacation.  And it turned out I was really happy to see him.  I hadn’t been running very well the past few nights.

Almost immediately after he sat down, Brent dealt me a couple of Aces in early position.  I made it $10 and got no less than five callers.  Yeah, five.  But I liked the flop.  It was Ace-Jack-4, two hearts.  The Ace of hearts was on the board, not in my hand. I bet $40 and had two callers.

The turn was a black 10.  I bet $90, which was more than half my remaining stack.  One of the two called the bet, a player best described as a Crazian.  I was worried about the draws, until the river was another 4.  I put the rest of my chips in front of me and the Crazian snap-called.  I showed my Aces full and he showed….Ace-5.  Offsuit.  He had no draw, just the naked Ace with a terrible kicker.  Thank you very much, sir.  I had more than twice my $200 buy-in in front of me, plus I got one of those tickets for the cash drawing.

As I was stacking my chips, I said to Brent, “Welcome back, I missed you.  I hadn’t won a hand while you were gone.”  He laughed and said, “Really, you were running ice cold for three weeks?”  I said, “Pretty much.” 

With Brent still dealing, I won a small pot with the Coach’s evil hand, Queen-10.  A 10 on the board was good enough for me to take it down with a bet on the turn.

Then I called a small raise with King-9 hearts in late position, called a small bet on the flop with a gut-shot, and hit it on the river (there was no bet on the turn).  Won another medium-ish pot. 

King-2 in the big blind, no raise.  King-high flop, I bet $7 and two players called.  I checked a blank turn and the Crazian who had doubled me up when I had the boat bet $20.  I didn’t necessarily believe he could beat a King.  I called.  Down to the two of us.  The river paired 7’s.  The high card on the board was a Queen.  So my pathetic kicker wasn’t going to play.  If he had a King, we’d chop it unless he had an Ace—or a Queen.  Neither one was likely, he would have raised preflop with AK or KQ.  So when he bet $40 after I checked, I thought it made sense to call.

And when I called, he just insta-mucked without showing, or making me show.  Nice.  The players to my left and right were making comments about this guy’s play—he had paid off other players with weird moves too.  When he left a little while later, I said to my neighbors, “Well, I guess I should leave now, my benefactor is gone.”

By the time Brent was finished with his down, I had well over $500 in front of me. I again complimented Brent on his dealing skills and told him that I really missed him.

It was close to $600 when good ol’ Mike came to deal.  Mike’s the guy who always cracks my Kings.  He didn’t this time.  Not Kings, that is.

First I lost some money with pocket 10’s.  I raised to $12, had three callers.  Queen high flop, I bet $35.  Hmm….should I have checked?  Overcards and three others in the hand?  I had one caller.  The turn was checked around and by the river there were two Queens on the board and a straight possible.  I folded to a big river bet.  The guy showed one card—a 10.  If he had a Jack to go with it he had the straight.  But I thought he had a Queen.  I’ll never know.  But when someone shows just one card like that, it’s never the important card and it usually means they have it, right?  Right?

The very next hand, Mike gave me pocket Jacks.  At least it’s not Kings, right? I raised to $10 in early position and had two callers. The flop was Jack high with two low cards.  The Jack and one of the rags were spades.  I bet $15, too little.  Usually I bet big there, but as I’ve mentioned in recent posts, I had started to slow play sets a little.  Both players called.

The turn was a blank and I bet $40.  The next guy shoved for his last $126.  The other guy folded.  Of course I called.  I assumed I had to dodge a spade.  In fact before the river was dealt, he showed Ace-7 of spades.  I showed my Jacks.  Mike decided to put a big dent in my stack by putting the very ugly King of Spades on the river.

Ugh.  That hurt.  I was still up, but so many lovely chips went missing from my stack.

And it wasn’t even the dreaded pocket Kings, which is the way Mike usually slaughters me.

Does anyone like his play there?  Shoving on the turn with his draw?  It makes a lot more sense to do that on the flop, right?  Wouldn’t have changed anything, but I think at that point, with just one card to come, it’s a bad play on his part—or am I wrong?

I was still up for the night, but that one hurt.

Mike left without doing any more damage to my stack. 

I had a suited Ace-rag in the small blind, and was hoping to play it for a buck to try to hit a flush and get another drawing ticket (and also, you know, win the pot).  But a guy raised to $10 in front of me so I had to fold.  It annoyed me.  I guess I was still a bit perturbed over the set of Jacks that lost.

The very next hand, on the button, I had Ace-6 of hearts.  After a few limpers, the same guy as last hand made it $15.  Damn him.  Easy fold right?  Not this time.  I was still pissed he’d bet me off the suited Ace last time.  And this time I had position.  I wasn’t about to let him bet me off another hand!  I called.  It was a steam-call.  Also, I figured a few limpers might call if I did and it would be a nice pot if I got lucky.  One other player did call.

The flop was Ace-Ace-Jack.  He bet $25 and I called, the other guy folded.  The turn was a blank and we both checked.  The river was another blank.  This time he put out $65. 

My first inclination was to fold, surely I had kicker problems.  But I had seen this guy play long enough to figure there was a decent chance he was bluffing.  I couldn’t find a fold there.

Good call.  He showed 7-deuce!  But it was soooooted (but he didn’t have a flush draw). He raised to $15 with 7-deuce. Now by the river there was actually a 7 on the board, I don’t remember whether it was the turn or the river.  But I was happy that my read was right and that I took in a decent pot.  Now I was wandering what he had raised with on the hand before.  It was probably better than 7-deuce.  Like, 8-3, maybe?

Limped in with King-Jack off.  No raise. On a Jack high flow (two hearts), I called a $5 bet from a guy who just moved into this game from the 3/6 limit game.  We both checked on the turn, a third heart.  There was a fourth heart on the river and he bet $15.  I didn’t have a heart, but I was kind of thinking that this guy didn’t know what he was doing and might not have noticed the hearts.  For $15 I decided to call, if only to get information. 

I flipped over his cards and said, “I have nothing.”  True, he didn’t have a pair.  He was playing two absolute rags.  But one of those rags was a heart.  The dealer noticed, even if he didn’t.  I was right, he didn’t know what he was doing.  Unfortunately, that didn’t help me.

I will point out that a few days earlier, I lost a hand in similar fashion when a guy turned over his hand saying he had nothing and didn’t notice that he had a straight.

I called a $7 raise with 8-7 suited and then the 5-Minute Asshole raised to $37.  I folded but one guy called and the flop was 8-7-x.  The 5-Minute Asshole bet and the other guy folded, so I have no idea what he had, but I assume my two pair would have been good.

Why do I call him the 5-Minute Asshole?  Well, it was weird.  This guy was sitting there all night, a young guy, wearing his baseball cap the proper way, not saying too much.  He was a bit of an aggro.  Suddenly he won a nice pot from the older gentleman on his left.  I didn’t make a note of the hand, unfortunately.  And the 5MA says to the older gentlemen, “You keep playing like that and I’ll get all your chips. You’re a donkey.”

That was the first thing he’d said or done that was out of line in the two hours or so I’d been there.

The older guy was not too pleased. He didn’t say anything to the 5MA but he said to the dealer, “Dealer, he called me a donkey, please call the floor.”  I don’t think the dealer heard him, but a floor person walked right by just then and the gentleman got her attention.  He repeated what the 5MA said.       

The floor turned to 5MA and was about to pull him away from the table when the older guy stood up and said, “You know what, I’m leaving.”  The floor asked if he wanted a table change and he said no, he was through playing.

Then the floorperson pulled 5MA aside and before she could say a word, 5MA went into this long rant.  He didn’t deny calling him a donkey but said it was “nothing” and the guy was just using it as an excuse, that he wanted to leave the game anyway.  The floor said that didn’t matter, you can’t call other players derogatory names.

The guy apparently wasn’t listening, and he continued to harp on his firm belief that the guy was just using that as excuse for leaving.  And the floor kept telling him that was irrelevant.  But she wasn’t getting through to him, and he became more and more agitated defended his stupid position.  I really thought the guy was going to get kicked out of the room.

But then, just as I thought he was at the end of his rope, he shut up.  He promised to behave and took his seat and remained quiet.  Seriously, he didn’t cause a lick of trouble the rest of the evening.  And he had been fine up until that very hand.  Hence, the 5-Minute Asshole.

Now, I suppose it’s possible there could have been some verbal interaction between him and the older guy all along that I couldn’t hear.  I can’t rule that out.  But it was weird.

And I’ll point out what all of you surely know—if you think a guy at the table is a donkey, the very last thing you want to do is piss him off and get him to leave, right?  Make him comfortable.  Make him happy.  “I would have done the same thing, sir, I just got lucky.”  Right?

I did have a hand against 5MA after this incident.  Someone straddled and I called the straddle with pocket 3’s.  There were two more 3’s on the flop, don’t recall the other card.  Of course I slow-played it and no one bet the flop or the turn (there were four of us who saw the flop.  Finally on the river, 5MA bet $6. Everyone else folded and I raised to $12. I hated raising so little but I figured it would be hard enough to get a call for even the min raise.  And in fact, 5MA took a long time to call that lousy six bucks.  But finally he did.  He mucked when he saw my quads.  I’m sure if I had made it $20 he wouldn’t have called.

That got me another ticket, and the dealer said, “You should get two tickets for a hand like that.”  I agreed, but that wasn’t the rules.  Note, the previous month, they had the high hand bonuses that I described in this post, but by this time, they had been discontinued.  All I got was the ticket, no high hand bonus.

A few hands later I was drawing to a straight flush on the river.  Unfortunately, my notes on this hand were all screwed up and I don’t have the details.  But I needed the 8 of diamonds.  I got the 8 of hearts instead, filling in my gutshot, and that won a small pot.  But I commented to the dealer, after saying I needed the 8 of diamonds instead of the 8 of hearts, “I guess I couldn’t expect the same dealer to give me quads and a straight flush on the same down.”

Although back a long time ago, when I was playing 4/8 at the Venetian, I saw a lady get a straight flush and quads on back-to-back hands.  Now that’s running good!

The last hand I won was with Jack-4 offsuit in the big blind, no raise.  The flop had a 4 and two clubs; my Jack was a club. I called $7.  The turn was another club so I called $20 with a pair and a flush draw.  I hit the flush on the river but didn’t bet it, worried that my flush was not good enough.  I was mostly interested in getting another drawing ticket, the drawing was just a few minutes away. The other guy didn’t have a club.

I didn’t get called for the drawing.  I had a bit over $200 profit and decided to call it a night.  On my way out, I passed noticed Mike dealing at another table. With all the sarcasm I could muster, I yelled over to him, “Nice river, Mike!”  He snickered and said, “At least you didn’t have to rebuy.”  True enough.  You can’t have a session where every hand goes your way, can you?

Can you?