Quad Aces for the Re-suck!

(This is part 1 of 2 parts)

As you know from my last two entries here, I was in Vegas recently.  And I had a poker session that was so much fun that I just have to blog about it.  So at least for the time being, my blog is back.

I was in Vegas for 12 days, and for much of the first week, my blogging pal Lightning was in town with me. In fact, he has already blogged about this night, which you can see here.  But now, for the first time, you will tell the true version of this night.

Back in the day, I played a lot of poker at MGM, but not so much recently. It’s not that I no longer like the room (although I must admit, I’m not a fan of uncapped 1/2 games like they have now). It’s mostly that over the recent years, all my dealer buddies have left the room. I go there now and I don’t recognize anyone.  It’s just another poker room, nobody knows me there. In the old days, it was like Norm walking into Cheers whenever I showed up there.

On this night, Lightning suggested that we hit up MGM for our evening session and it seemed like a good idea.  Because parking is always an issue at MGM properties, he picked me up at my hotel and we made our way to the poker room.

I got seated first and almost immediately picked up a fun vibe from this table.  I was in seat 5, directly across from the dealer, and the young lady on my right in seat 4 was obviously having a great time. When I first got there, she was mostly conversing with the young fellow in seat 2, who I noticed would occasionally take a camera out and appeared to be recording some hands. Two things became immediately obvious to me.  One, the young fellow was a vlogger (a blogger like me, except with video instead of text) And two, the young lady was British.

Emily (her real name) appeared fascinated by the concept of a vlog. And she was peppering Will (the vlogger, also his real name) with questions about vlogging.  I stayed quiet for a while, and noticed that Emily seemed excited that she might appear in a future vlog, especially after Will asked her name and wrote it down. She enthusiastically gave him her permission to use her likeness and her name should she be involved in a vlog-worthy hand.

Emily was chatting with everyone at the table, talking about the hands and about poker and about differences between poker in Vegas and England.  She was just one of those people who, while playing poker, engaged in just the right amount of conversation.  She talked a lot, but not so much that she ever got annoying (though she seemed to worry about that).  And almost everything she said was interesting and usually amusing.  She was just a really fun person to be sitting at a poker table with.  The most apt word I can think of to describe her is “delightful.”  Sadly, I don’t think I can sufficiently convey with just words just how truly delightful she was.

I asked Will what his YouTube channel was and looked it up on my phone.  It’s 4 Bet Blind.  He explained that he had come down from Portland for the WSOP where he hoped to find lots of material for his vlog.  He had played the Gladiators event at the WSOP the day before and gave us a few details about that.  Emily too had played the Gladiators.  She cashed but busted before Day 1 ended and we heard about that.

My session was up and down to start.  I won a small pot flopping a set of Jacks.  For this trip, the single hand I was dealt most often was pocket Jacks.  You’ll be surprised to hear that I only lost one time this entire trip with the dreaded pocket Kings.  That one time I ended folding to a bet (it may have been a bad fold, I’ll never know). 

Meanwhile Lightning was having a miserable time at his table, lost a buy-in and took a break.  I told him I didn’t know if my table was going to be profitable but that it sure was fun, and I wasn't about to leave it any time soon.  He got back in a game at a different table and put his name on the list for a table change to my game.  I was thinking it’s a shame that he was missing out on this fun.

Eventually the seat directly to my left opened up.  Lightning’s table was near mine so rather than text him I tried shouting his name.  The room was packed and he didn’t hear me.  Emily asked me if I was calling my friend and I said yes so she joined in yelling “John, John!”  He didn’t hear my voice but somehow he heard Emily’s!  I guess he’s been married so long, his ear is more attuned to hearing a female voice yelling at for him.

Lightning settled into seat 6 and I’m sure he immediately picked up on the fun vibe of the table.  Then a familiar face came in to deal.  It was my old pal “Joyce,” who’s been dealing to me at MGM probably since I started playing poker in Vegas. In researching her blog name, I discovered that despite dealing to me probably thousands of times, I had only mentioned her on the blog once.  But it was a fun post because, of course, it was the time we discussed her bra size.  But on this night we discussed what happened to all my old pals from MGM instead.  

Joyce turned out to be the only familiar face among the dealers that I saw in the room that night.  She greeted me warmly as I did her, and I asked about all my old pals.  She told me that there were just a few left…..but they were either floor people or shift managers.  The other dealers had all moved on.  I did know that a number of them were now working at South Point. 

We had just about finished going down memory lane when Joyce dealt me pocket Aces.  Nice.  I didn’t write down the details like I would have in the old days so I might not have this exactly right, but I believe I was one of the blinds and the relatively quiet fellow in seat 3 (so maybe the button?) raised to $8.  I made it $25 I think.  He called and it was heads up.  The flop was really nice. As5d8h.  Always nice to flop a set of Aces.  I didn’t expect to get any action but since I was the preflop aggressor I dutifully put out a bet and he called. The turn was 7d.  So a straight was possible if he had 6-4.  Since he had initially raised and then called my pre-flop three-bet, what were the chances of that?  Still there were now two diamonds on the board in addition to the straight.  I believe I bet again and he called.

I wasn’t too worried, but better safe than sorry, I remember thinking it would be nice to see the board pair just in case.  The river did indeed pair the board.  With an Ace!  A set of Aces is nice. Quad Aces is damn near perfect.

I assumed there was no way Seat 3 would call anything with two Aces on the board, so I put out a really small bet.  To my astonishment, he shoved!  Of course, I snap called and turned over my hand, saying “I think I got this!”  Seat 3 was surprised and somewhat argumentative.  He showed his hand, which was indeed 6-4, both diamonds and pointed out that if the 8 of hearts had been the 8 of diamonds, he’d have beaten my quads with a straight flush!  Except that it was the 8 of hearts, and he only picked up that straight flush draw on the turn, when he made his straight.

Wow, what a hand. It was the old “suck/re-suck.”  He sucked out on me on the turn, and I re-sucked out on him on the river.  Phew.  BTW, MGM does not have a bad beat jackpot, so if it had been quads vs. straight flush, I would have just had one horrendous bad beat story to tell, and not the prize of winning a bad beat jackpot.  Anyway, imagine winning with quad Aces which I actually needed them to beat his damn straight.  Set of Aces no good there.

Well there was quite a bit of excitement to say the least.  For one thing, the room has high-hand bonuses.  They are progressive, and it would be at least $100.  As it turned out, it was good for $150.  This was actually the second time since I’d been there that someone had quads. I think it was quad deuces and I also think they were hit by the very fellow in Seat 3! They also have a High Hand of the Hour that I might have qualified for in addition to the $150, but it happened after 9PM and the last high hand period ended at 9PM. Oh well.

There was also the pot.  I had Seat 3 covered but not by much. It was a healthy pot.  Damn, I didn’t write down how much it was, but I was sure that after it was over, I had more than a double up of my $200 buy-in, not counting the $150 bonus, which I pocketed when I received it some time later (I had plenty of chips to play without with the pretty green ones).

And you know who was almost as excited as I was over this hand?  Emily, of course.  She loved it. She insisted I hurry up and take a picture of the hand, then grabbed the phone out of my hand and took the pic for me because she had a better angle. But what happened was the guy in seat 9 was expressing his disapproval of Seat 3’s play.  How could he call my three-bet preflop with 6-4???  Even it if was sooooted???  He wasn’t involved in this hand at all but somehow the play of Seat 3 offended him!  Hours later, when seat 9 left, Emily commented to me about the guy being so upset with the way the hand was played, she was still wondering why it bothered that guy so much.  And Seat 3 seemed to be defending his play because he almost had a straight flush.  Or maybe because he had sucked out on me on the turn, and what were the chances of a re-suck?

Emily asked me if I was worried about the straight (before the river).  I said I saw it but it was so unlikely.  Emily agreed.  She said something to the effect of, “How could you imagine anyone playing like that?  I mean, he’d have to be a complete idiot to have 6-4 there!”  That’s just a weak paraphrase, I wish I had written it down at the time.  But I do know she referred to Seat 3 as an idiot over the way he played this hand any number of times.  And she was actually arguing with Seat 9 about it, even though they were both questioning Seat 3’s play.

I was a bit surprised that Emily was so critical of Seat 3.  I mean calling him an idiot seemed out of line, to say the least.  But they had been friendly and I had already picked up that Seat 3 was a Brit like her.  I had assumed they met at the table and bonded over their mutual heritage.  Boy was I was wrong.  Before the evening was over I figured out, and then confirmed, that Seat 3’s name was Matt and he was indeed Emily’s husband!  This made it even more fun for me that Emily seemed to be so happy about my quad Aces.  And I guess it somehow made it ok that she called him a complete idiot.  Likely not for the first time!

And let me defend Matt’s play there.  By this time he obviously knew I was a tight player and when I three-bet there he can put me on a very narrow range that includes Aces, Kings and maybe Ace-King.  Maybe.  Probably not even Queens.  So maybe if he hits something unexpected, I will get sticky with it and put all my chips in play against a hand I couldn’t possibly expect a decent player to have there. Which in fact is exactly what happened.  Except I pulled off the re-suck. Trouble is, if that was what he was thinking, he has to know it is almost more likely than not that I do have quad Aces on the river. I mean I wouldn’t play Kings like that with all the Aces on board.  And would I have played just top pair that strong with the straight out there (however unlikely)?

Emily confessed that they never play at the same table usually but because it was so busy there they had no choice.  So they ended up sitting right next to each other.  I wonder if that hand came up in their subsequent conversations during their trip?

I’m not sure about this but I think Emily asked Will if he caught any of that hand for his vlog, and I think he said he might have. But since he wasn’t involved in the hand I rather doubt he recorded any of it.  But Emily was excited about the possibility of it appearing in Will’s vlog.  It was probably at this point that I did something I rarely do.  I came out of the closet.

Yes, I admitted to being the world famous poker blogger Robvegaspoker. While Emily was still quizzing Will about his vlog, and kept asking, “are you gonna put this in the vlog?” I spoke up.  “You know, I’m internet famous, too.”  She asked who I was and I told her.  And I said, “I used to have a pretty popular blog.  A written blog, low-tech, not video like Will.”  She went searching the web for it immediately and found it.  I said, “I’ve only done one blog post this year but I have to blog about the quad Aces for sure.”  She took a screenshot of the blog and promised to look for the blog post. I told her Lightning also had a blog (or maybe he told her himself) and she took a screenshot of his blog too.

So she asked me if I was “Rob” or “Robert” and I said “Yes.”  She must have thought I was being a smart ass so explained, “My legal name is Robert but I go by Rob.” Then she went on about how Robert is a great name, explaining that in England there are some strong names and Robert is one of them.  She also liked the name John.

I took issue with that a bit. “Are there any Roberts in England?  I’ve never heard of an English Robert.  There’s never been a King Robert, has there?”  But she insisted it was a good English name and then told me it was the name of her dear father who had passed away a few years ago.  I don’t recall if she said I reminded her of him or if she could see me as her father substitute, something like that.  She asked me what year I was born.  I was taken aback by that but I finally told her and she expressed a bit of surprise, which I took to mean she thought I was younger than I am but I could just be flattering myself.  She told me her dad was born a few years after I was.  

Yours truly with the delightful Emily

And that’s where I’m going to leave this part 1.  I haven’t written up the rest, so it may take some time to get more posted, but please check back.  In future installments we discuss Robin Hood, the player who actually complained about hitting quad 6’s, Emily’s favorite poker app (PokerAtlas, of course), Lightning’s Academy Award winning performance, the American Revolution and of course, the 2nd Amendment (really)!  Check back early and often!

NOTE:  PART 2 IS NOW LIVE, FIND IT HERE.

Emily, This Repost is For You!

Emily, are you still out there?  I hope so.  One of the stories you told me the other night reminded me of this incident I first described in a post I did over ten years ago which described an incident similar to the one you told me.....but with a very different result.  So I thought you'd be interested in reading this while you are patiently (I hope) waiting for me to write up the post about the session we had together.  This post was one of the most popular posts from the early days of my blog and in fact I've already reposted it once already!  

You are of course invited to comment on this and perhaps reveal to all my readers the details of your similar situation that had a vastly different result.  If you do want to comment for public viewing, I would prefer that you not mention the name of the poker room your story took place in; remember I keep a good relationship with all the Vegas poker rooms for my work.  Thanks!

One of the rules of the poker room is this:  “Verbal is binding.”  This means that if a person says “call” instead of putting out his chips in front of him, he is obligated to put his chips into the pot.  If he or she says “raise” he must raise the required amount, regardless of any action he takes with his chips (in a no limit game, without stating an amount, the person saying “raise” would have to put out the minimum required to raise).

But that’s not where it ends.  If a person has yet to act, and the person who will be acting next says something about calling or raising, that too is binding.  Even if he doesn’t realize it.

And that little rule created quite a ruckus at BSC last week.  And it was your humble correspondent who was up against the guy who didn’t know the rules—or at least, claimed not to know them.

I was sitting in seat 4 and had about $250 in front of me.  A brand new player took seat 5 immediately to my left and bought in for $100.  This was his very first hand.  He was coming in right behind the button. 

A bunch of limpers in the pot, the action went to me holding 6/7 suited, so I limped also.  Seat 5 raised to $10.  Two or three called in front of me, so I called as well.

The flop was 865, rainbow I believe.  It checked around to the new player, who had last action from here on.  He bet $30.  A guy in early position called as well.  I had him covered but he had close to $200 in front of him.  I felt with the pair and the open ender it was enough to call, so I did.

The turn card was a beautiful 9, given me the second nuts.  Only a 10-7 could beat me.  First guy checked, and I decided to check too.  If I bet there, it would scream “straight!” and I probably wouldn’t get a caller.  If I checked, I thought the new player might bet and then I could figure out what to do based on whether the other guy called and how much the bet was. 

But the guy disappointed me, tanking for a bit, saying, “Wow, you put a straight out there huh?”  After thinking about it some more, he finally said he was just gonna check.

Oh well, I knew that was the risk.  The river was a totally harmless deuce that didn’t change anything (and there was no flush possible).  First guy checks, and, I knew I had to bet to try to get any more value for my hand. 

I started counting out chips and was trying to figure out what bet would be called. Before I got very far in my thought process of what the right amount to bet would be, the new guy, seeing me reach for chips, said something like, “Oh if you’re betting, I’m gonna call whatever you put out.”

OK, if that’s the case, no more calculating on my part was necessary.  The third guy was a good player; I didn’t figure he’d call the two of us unless he had a 7, or worse for me, 10-7.  If this guy was gonna put his last $60 in the pot, I was satisfied with that.  So I said, “In that case, all-in.” 

The dealer was Brent.  Brent is not just a dealer pal of mine but the very dealer who gave me the great story about “protecting your hand” that resulted in my all time most popular post, located here.  Now, we were about to get yet another lesson in poker rules and etiquette courtesy of Brent.

Brent immediately took out the “all in” card and threw it in front of me, and took out the “call” card and threw it in front of seat 5.  Seat 5 said nothing. Brent posed stoically and the action turned to the third player.  But nothing happened for awhile and I looked at Brent and he was still frozen.  So, for a nano-second, forgetting about the third player, or perhaps thinking he must have folded as I assumed he would, I grabbed my cards and said, “Is that in then?”  I hadn’t come close to exposing my hand tho, when Brent stopped me and pointed to the third guy and said he still had to act.  I immediately slammed my cards face down, no one had seen them.  I had barely gotten them an inch off the table.

I then looked over to the third guy for a second, and he was still tanking.  I looked away.  During all this time, seat 5 said absolutely nothing, made no motion, was totally still.  He was definitely not acting like a guy who had a decision to make.  Finally the other guy says, “Well, I guess at least one of you has me beat,” and mucked.

Brent looks at both of us and says “lets see ‘em” or whatever.  I show my hand, he said, “straight,” and then, and only then, did seat 5 speak up. 

“Call? Who called?  I didn’t call.”  Brent told him he most certainly did call.  He told him that what he said before I bet was binding, verbal is binding, and that he said “I’m gonna call whatever you put out.”  That’s binding.

No, seat 5 said, he didn’t say that.  “I said, ‘I’d probably call.’  I said ‘probably’.  I didn’t say I’d call.”   Brent said he didn’t hear him say “probably.” Anybody hear him say “probably,” he asked the table?

No.  A few people shook their heads and said definitely that they didn’t hear him say “probably.”  I said what I knew to be true, that he never said probably.  The rest of the table said nothing, presumably not hearing what he said.

The guy insisted he didn’t call, so Brent held up the action and called the floor over.  We’ll call the floor person “Bill” and like most anyone who works floor this time of day at BSC (or evening, actually), he knows me by name (and has helped me a few times on comps issues, among other things).  He even knows my last name, which surprised me because I didn’t think he’d ever seen my players card.

Seat 5 started making his case and Bill silenced him.  He got the story from Brent first, who accurately re-enacted what happened.  He also pointed out that his comment affected my action, which was true—just not the way the guy had hoped for.  Brent said he was trying to get me not to bet.

Bill turned back to seat 5 and said that “verbal is binding” and that since he had made the call, he had to put all his chips into the pot, as I easily had him covered.  The guy continued to protest, and rather loudly.  He said, “Why would I call when there was a four-card straight on the board?”

I didn’t say anything, but of course, that four-card straight was on the board when he said he was gonna call whatever I put out.  He had noticed the straight on the turn; that’s why he didn’t bet.  But he still said he was gonna call me.

He continued to talk.  He said, “I’m a man of my word,” and thus was trying to act insulted that he was being questioned like this.  He insisted he said “probably.”  Then he went on to say that this was his first time in Vegas and he just came into BSC to see the show in the main showroom and was trying to have a little fun before the show started. 

Somewhere along the way, Bill took the same survey of the other players that Brent had and found no one who recalled saying “probably.”  When Bill once again asked him politely to put his chips into the pot, he again refused and asked to speak to someone else.

Bill said fine, he would call the Shift Supervisor over.  Which he did.  Of course, “Nick,” the Shift Supervisor, knows me too.  I should point out that during the entire discussion, Brent, Bill and Nick referred to me only as “seat 4” and never by name, even tho they all know it.  I assume this is standard operating procedure, and it is an excellent idea.  Since they were siding with me, it only would have made things worse if the guy knew that I was a regular in the room who everyone knew.  He might have felt that as a regular, they were giving me preferential treatment, although that wasn’t true.  They were calling this one by the book.

Pretty much the same thing happened, Nick asked the other players after hearing Brent’s version of the facts.  Then, after hearing seat 5 tell him he was a man of his word several more times, and how this was his first time in Vegas, and how he said “probably” and why would he call a four-card straight and he was just there to see the show…..Nick very, very politely and calmly told him that he had indeed called my bet and to please put his chips into the pot.

Now I must admit, at some point I seriously considered just saying, “It’s ok, let him keep his chips.”  I really did.  The guy was clearly upset and who knew what would happen if this situation was allowed to escalate.  And it was only $60, even if it was $60 that was rightly mine.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. As Brent had pointed out, his words had indeed affected my action.  Plus, he had all kinds of time before seeing my hand to say something about not calling.  The “call” card was sitting in front of him for a couple of minutes. Then he saw Brent remind me that another player, the one following him, still had to act.  Why would we be waiting for him to act if seat 5 himself had not already acted?  Of course, even if he protested as soon as he saw the “call” card placed in front of him, there still would have been an issue as to whether or not he had called, but at least it would have been adjudicated before he saw my hand.

So I said nothing.  My only contribution to the discussion was my statement, several times, to several different people, that he didn’t say “probably”.  He said he would call whatever I bet.

The guy was very agitated and repeated all the things he had been saying several times.  Nick once again told him to put his chips (which he had been holding onto tightly since the ruckus began) into the pot.  He said he wouldn’t because he hadn’t called.  Then Nick said he would have to call security.

“Security?  You’re gonna call security?  Are you serious?” he said.  I envisioned this guy hurriedly getting up from his chair and bolting the room (and casino), chips in hand.  Meanwhile the rest of the players were getting impatient, some complaining that this was holding up the game. Finally, he took his chips and flung them towards Brent.  Most of them landed in the rack in front of him. I don’t think any of them hit Brent. Brent calmly and professionally took them all out of the rack and placed them into the pot, which he then pushed to me.  I tipped Brent $5 for his troubles (it was a nice pot, but it didn’t really justify that kind of a tip—I was tipping him for the aggravation and for taking my side—which of course, was the correct side).  I dunno if the guy saw the tip, as he immediately got up and stormed out of the room, presumably to see his show.  But in hindsight, I shouldn’t have given that big a tip in front of the guy.  I should have given him a normal tip and then given him the rest later in the evening, when the guy was long gone.  I suppose he might have thought there was some collusion going on when he saw that tip.  But in fact, nothing was said, or even noticed.

That was the end of Brent’s down, and he moved on.  The new dealer saw just the end of what happened and asked what all the fuss was about it.  We all filled him in, and of course he agreed that the guy had called my all in bet. It took about 20 minutes for anyone to talk about anything else.  One guy expressed concern the guy was gonna come back later and gun us all down!

In fact, that’s not the last I saw of the guy.  Hours later, I noticed him talking to Nick peacefully, away from all the tables.  I saw them talking calmly for about 20 minutes.  I had already had private conversations with Bill and Brent about the incident, both of whom thought the guy was just angle-shooting and was just trying to pull a fast one.  Bill saw me in the Mens Room and asked, “What were the chances that guy said ‘probably’?”  I told him that the guy definitely did not say “probably.”  Brent said that he said to the guy “that’s binding” when he heard his initial comment and threw the “call” card in front of him.  I didn’t remember that and I didn’t remember if Brent had told that to Bill or Nick.

So I asked Nick if that was the indeed the guy I thought it was and he confirmed it.  He had calmed down considerably, he said, but he still didn’t agree with the decision.  Further—and I have to admit, this bothers me a little—he didn’t think the guy was a sophisticated enough player to be trying to angle-shoot.  He actually thought the guy was totally ignorant that he had done anything wrong or that his comment was even intended to affect my action.  But Nick did thank me for my concern, and I thanked him for making the right decision.

I’m glad he calmed down, but I do feel a little badly if he really wasn’t trying to pull a fast one.  But still, he had more than enough time to correct things—or at least to attempt to—before he saw that he was beat.

Near the end of the night, Jack game to deal.  I asked him if he had heard all the commotion and he said he had, he was actually at the next table over at the time.  He didn’t realize, however, that I was the other player involved in the controversial pot.  Since he hadn’t heard the whole thing, I explained it fully to him.  By now, no one at my table was left over from the incident, so they all chimed in.  Jack said that the decision was an easy one, he makes that ruling every night.  He recalled one time it cost someone over $500.  He said the guy was angle-shooting even if he never heard that term.

And hat-tip to Jack, he reminded me that from the next table over, he heard the guy say, “I’m a man of my word” at least three times.  I had actually forgotten that by this point.  He even suggested I use that phrase as the title of this post (and give him a credit for the suggestion), but, while I liked that idea, I decided to go another way, to make sure that the real point of this post is reflected in the title.

Just another fun night of poker at the BSC.

F*ck Me Sideways

This is the second part of my recent visit to The Bike.  Be sure to catch part 1 here.

The main thing I want to tell you is that the game was really, really fun.  As different as night and day from my last game at the Bike.  Now I know some of this is just luck of the draw, and it might not be entirely due to the lack of masks and the lack of the plexiglass (and also that one or two players were drinking beer).  Maybe I just got a really bad table last time and a really good one this time. But I feel certain that the lack of masks and plexi had a lot to do with it.  Everyone was laughing and talking and having a good time (no more than two players wore masks at my table the entire time I was there).

I was having a good time too.  And then the table got really, really good.  Sadly, I don’t mean that in the sense that the game was great poker wise, or that I was able to win a shitload of money.  I’ll get to my poker hands later.  I mean the table became a total blast.  Because of one bloke who joined it.

Let’s just call this fellow “Hugh” because his real name is not Hugh.  I first noticed him when he was at a nearby table.  It was hard not to notice him.  He was loud and he was ridiculously talkative.  I couldn’t really hear what he was saying, I was just hearing him talk a lot, it seemed like he never shut up.  And he had a rather annoying voice.  It was high and squeaky, and it seemed strained.  He sounded like maybe he’d had throat surgery or perhaps had damaged vocal cords.  From a distance, it was kind of painful to hear.

So when I saw that he was table-changing to our game, and in fact was going to sit on the seat to my immediate right (that I had just vacated so I could see the cards better), I was not happy.  Hearing this guy talk with that strained voice up close and personal, right next to me?  I figured my fun was over.

I was wrong.  This guy had me laughing almost non-stop the entire time he was there.  Somehow, when he was right next to me, his voice was a lot less annoying.  And when I could hear what he was actually saying, it turned out that he was funny as hell.  The guy had an English accent and said he was from London.  Never did figure out if he was visiting from there or he was now living in Southern California.  One thing for sure I can tell you, he was losing money hand over fist.

I guess you could call Hugh a human ATM.  I can’t count how many times he got felted and bought more chips.  At various times, while he was complaining about his luck and his results this day (almost always in an entertaining manner), he claimed to be down $900, $1,200, $1,300, $1,000.  The figure he said increased and decreased even though he was steadily losing.  He used his losses as an excuse for some wild play. When faced with a tough call, he would say, “Well, I’m already out $800 today….I call.”  This would be a situation where it was obvious he didn’t have a chance to win the pot.

One of the first pots he played when he arrived, he had raised, there was a three-bet all-in, and he was covered.  So he had to risk all his chips to call (it was around $200 I think).  He agonized for a long time, kept talking about how much he was losing, and finally called.  I don’t think they showed until the board was filled, and the other guy had pocket Aces.  Hugh showed his pocket 9’s in disgust.  It was pretty easy to figure out why poor Hugh was losing!

He was telling us, however, how much better our table was than the one he had just left. “The biggest pot over there was $23.  I’d win a pot and it’d be $15.”  He repeated this several times.

A few hands after the pocket 9’s, (and after he bought more chips) a virtually identical situation happened.  Hugh called all-in preflop and this time he lost to pocket Kings.  What did he have?  Pocket 9’s again!  He said, “Damn 9’s again. I had to call.”  Then he whined about getting pocket 9’s.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that about 10 minutes before he showed up, I had pocket 9’s and flopped quads (I’ll get back to that).

He was muttering about those damn 9’s all through the next deal. I think this hand he folded preflop, and of course there was a 9 on the flop.  He bitched mightily about that.  “There’s the 9, there it is.  Where was it last hand?”  And for a while, almost every flop thereafter had a 9 on it! Everyone in a pot against him would comment on the 9 and joke that he finally had his set of 9’s.  As far as I could tell, he never was dealt another 9 the rest of the day, but it was sure a fun running gag.  Especially later when there were two 9’s on the board.  And when he folded to a bet (yes, he did sometimes fold) he said, “There, I’m folding my quad 9’s.”

As I said, at first he was mostly bitching about how much money he was losing.  But then he started telling us that he had been divorced three times.  So when he got annoyed at something or someone (can’t remember what), he said, “That’s just like my ex-wife.”  I asked, “Which one?”  He said, “All of them.”

Then he faced a big bet on the river on a board that had four spades.  He claimed to have two pair and didn’t know whether to call or not.  I’m pretty sure everyone at the table knew the guy who was all-in had a spade.  Hugh probably did too but he just couldn’t get away from his two pair.  He tanked, but he was hardly quiet.  “He’s got a spade, doesn’t he have a spade? Do you have a spade?  Just tell me if you have a spade.  I’ve got two pair.”  Then, he actually flipped over his hand.  He did indeed have two pair.  But no spade. At this point, the dealer called the floor, I’m not sure why.  The floor came over immediately but did not warn him not to show his hand, since it was heads up and the other guy was all in, there was really no problem with him exposing his hand.  He did warn the guy…..he said he would have to start the clock if he didn’t make a decision soon.  But it was all in good fun and the floorperson left before Hugh acted.

Hugh kept talking and I don’t think anyone really minded that he was holding up the game, we were enjoying his act.  Finally he said, “I’m out $1,200, I’m divorced three times…...F*ck me sideways.” A few seconds later he repeated the exact same thing (although he might have changed the amount he was out—but he never changed the number of times he was divorced) And after a few more seconds, he said, “I call.”  Of course the other guy had a spade.

Now, however much he had lost, he was starting to run out of money.  He telephoned a friend and tried to get him to give him some cash.  His only solution was if he could find someone who had Venmo, who would give him $500 if his buddy sent $500 to that someone’s Venmo account.  No one was willing to do that, understandably.  Somehow though, Hugh lasted at the table past the time I left, so I dunno what happened or how he kept playing.

Now with all this crazy action, with Hugh being a human ATM machine, you must be thinking I cleaned up at this game.  Sadly, that is not the case.  By the time Hugh got to the table, I was mostly card dead, and whenever I did get cards worth playing, he was either away from the table or had folded preflop (it did happen)  The whole time I never got into a hand with him.  And as should be obvious by now, there was no way to bluff this guy.  To get money out of him, you actually had to have a value hand of some kind.  And the other players at the table, when they played against him, were pretty solid and always showed up with a hand.  It was quite frustrating, but at least I was laughing the whole time.

In fact, there were only two hands I played that are worth talking about.  And both happened before Hugh showed up. I had been playing some hands without much success, but I was actually getting some cards to play.  I was down to about $250 from my $300 buy-in (remember, the game is 2/3).  Under the gun, with Ace-Jack of clubs, I open to $15.  I only had one caller.  The flop was just awesome, 8-6-5, all clubs.  Yahtzee!  Of course I did think about the straight flush possibility, but that’s worrying about monsters under the bed, right?

I checked.  Fortunately (or so I thought), the other guy bet.  But he bet big.  You would think a reasonable bet there would be $20-$25, right?  But he overbet the pot and put out $75 or $80.  I didn’t bother asking for a count.  He had over $400 so I was covered.  Just seeing the stack he bet, I realized that I couldn’t really raise there without shoving.  I mean any raise I could make would have me committed, and besides, I wanted to get it all in.  So of course I did indeed shove.

He snap called.  I asked, “You have a straight flush?”  No.  He said, “I have a set.”  We didn’t show but I believed him.  And groaned when the turn was another 8.  I don’t remember the river but it didn’t matter, I was drawing dead. I re-bought another $300.  He had flopped a set of 6’s and on the turn had the full house.

Any other way I could have played that?  I mean, I guess I could have just called, but then, even after the board pairs on the turn, am I really going to fold the nut flush? 

A little while later I was dealt pocket 9’s and called $20.  It was three-way.  Talk about good flops.  How does Jack-9-9 sound?  The preflop raiser bet $30 and of course I just called.  The last guy went all in—but it was for only $24. The turn was a 10.  Unfortunately he checked.  I checked behind.  In hindsight, I should have bet. If he was on a draw, he’d call something, but if he missed on the river he wouldn’t.  As I’ve often said, you don’t get a lot of practice playing monsters.

The river was another Jack.  Well now, my first thought was, oh if only he had pocket Jacks!  That would mean the Bad Beat Jackpot, with me having the losing hand.  That would be one pot I’d love to lose.  I dunno what the amount of the jackpot was, but it’s typically between $10K and $40K, something like that.  Of course, my opponent had not played the hand like he had pocket Jacks and had flopped a boat. He checked. I put out a bet of $75. He tanked for a long, long time.  Finally he said, “Well, if you’re bluffing……” He was really agonizing about calling, but he finally just folded.  Damn.  I decided to show my hand because how can you not show quads when you get them?  He was startled.  He said he folded a straight.  Then he said something odd. He said he would have called if he had a Jack.  No kidding!  The second nuts?  Of course he’d call.  But that damn paired Jack killed my action.  With only one pair on the board, no way is he folding a straight.  Two pair made it a lot easier.

What about the all-in guy?  Well, he mucked his cards as soon as the other guy folded so he didn’t have pocket Jacks either.  We talked about the possibility of the BBJ for a few minutes, I won a fairly small pot, and that was that.

And as I said, I didn’t get much to play after that; won a few small pots.  I left down $320.  But it was nice to have fun playing poker again.  Can I say the entire difference in the fun quotient of this game was due to the lack of masks and plexiglass (and the fact that I was dying of thirst the entire time)?  Certainly not. But it didn’t hurt.

Suppose They Gave a Poker Tournament & Nobody Came?

Poker & The Coronavirus

I am a victim of coronavirus. 

No, don't get me wrong.  I don't have coronavirus, thankfully.  But I am a victim of it, nonetheless.

More accurately, I am a victim of the hysteria surrounding it.

You see the other day I went to Walmarts to do my weekly shopping.  And a lot of items were just missing from the shelves. 

Even before I started shopping, I noticed that those disinfectant wipes that they usually have as you enter—you know, to sanitize your shopping card—were missing.  Apparently they were all out of them.

I wasn't in the store for five minutes before hearing an employee tell a shopper that they were all out of hand sanitizer, disinfectant wipes, and alcohol (the kind you sanitize things with, not the kind your drink).  And as I did my shopping, I saw that all those things were indeed missing from their shelves. 

Also missing:  water.  I mean bottled water.  All gone.  Mostly missing was hand soap, they had maybe 10% of their usual stock on the mostly empty shelves.  Toilet paper was available, but that section was at about 25% capacity.

It was kind of ridiculous.  Why this virus should produce a run (so-to-speak) on toilet paper is a mystery to me.  The virus is not known to produce gastric distress.  But perhaps the threat of the virus has a lot of people scared shitless, thus the stocking up of TP.  Apparently some people bought hand sanitizer as if to prepare for a year of shortages.  And people must be using those disinfectant wipes and alcohol to rub down every item in a 100 yard radius.  And I guess they think the virus will get into the water system and infect our water?

I'm not a doctor or an epidemiologist—and I don't play one on TV—but I don't think this kind of panic is anywhere near warranted.  I could be wrong of course.  Perhaps in a month, the last surviving human being on the planet will come across this blog post and get a good laugh at it.  But that seems unlikely to me.

I mean, I use Vegas as my reference.  Late last week they reported the first known case of Covid-19 there.  Think about that. If any place is susceptible to an epidemic, it's has to be Vegas.  Thousands of people flying in and out every day, from all over the world.  It's gotta be the germ capital of the world.  I can't count the number of colds I've contracted there.

If the virus was as bad as the panic would seem to indicate, by now every single resident of Vegas would be dead by now.  At least, everyone who spends a few hours a week in a Vegas poker room (or really any part of a casino) would have contracted the disease, right?  Those cards, those chips, they're filthy and germ-ridden.  You mean to tell me no one from China or Italy or South Korea or the state of Washington who has the virus (and presumably doesn't even know it) has found his or her way to a Vegas poker table by now?

And it seems to me that unless you're old (over 70) and/or have a chronic medical (respiratory) condition, it isn't that serious if you do get it.

But with a willing media needing something to hype, they are making it sound like this is the end of the world.

Thus the shortages.  Thus I am a victim.

My non-professional advice….relax

Now, I could be a victim of this virus in another way.  And that has to do with my job.  If you pay attention to poker Twitter—or any other place poker is discussed—you've no doubt seen some discussion that the WSOP could be cancelled this year.

Up until a few days ago, I thought this was a preposterous suggestion that could never come to pass.  I just never believed the health risks would warrant it.

Now I'm not so sure.  Seeing how the panic and hysteria have set in, I have a genuine concern that enough people will be scared off that they might just decide that it wouldn't be profitable to hold it this year.  I still think that's a long shot but I can't rule it out.  After all, conferences and conventions all around the world have been cancelled because of concerns over this virus. And they just cancelled a major professional tennis tournament because one person in the county (presumably not connected with the tournament) tested positive for COVID-19.

Needless to say, such a cancellation would be quite a blow to the poker world.  And if poker series in Vegas and elsewhere start getting cancelled, I wouldn’t have much work to do, would I?  (Yes, it's always about me).

I started thinking about this when I was writing my next Ante Up column last week.  In order to write it, I ended up begging a few poker room managers/tournament directors to give me an advanced peak at their summer schedules so I would be able to write about their series.  I got a few to review, and for the moment, all the schedules appear to be prepared assuming business as usual.

That means that, as in the past, a large percentage of the scheduled tournaments have guarantees.  And the guarantees on based on normal attendance, based on how many folks showed up last year.

I can definitely see a problem with that.

Now I assume if the WSOP does actually get cancelled, most of the Vegas series around town will be cancelled too.  I mean, those series are all based on the belief that every poker player in the world will flood Vegas to play in the WSOP and these other series.  With no WSOP, the poker players certainly won't be coming to Vegas in the numbers we're used to. 

But I started wondering what happens if they hold the WSOP and vast numbers of players are afraid to attend? That they stay the hell away out of fear. 

Most of the WSOP events do not have guarantees, so they could just run them and have smaller fields and therefore smaller prize pools.  They might just decide to forego the guarantees on the events they run that usually do have guarantees in order to insure they don't have any huge overlays.

I could see that happening.

But what do the other venues around town that run summer series do?  They pretty much rely on their guarantees to attract players, to compete with the WSOP and the other venues.  Guarantees are expected these days.

But what if, at some point, it becomes obvious that this summer, people are just not going to show up in the numbers that they usually do.  You can be sure that all these poker rooms around town that offer these summer tournaments around town are not going to just have overlay after overlay on their poker tournaments day after day.

At what point will they change things? After a big overlay or two?  Or before anything even starts because they see reservations down and hear from their regular players that they are staying away?  You can be sure that if there is still widespread panic over COVID-19 come May, those guarantees will be reduced or removed.

Since, again, this is always about me, let me just say that if they all do change their schedules and their guarantees at (near) the last minute, I would have the opposite problem I alluded to earlier.  Instead of too little work to do, I would be overwhelmed, changing details and guarantees on tournaments I already entered once.  In fact, I might have so much work to do at the last minute I'll be wishing the coronavirus had already taken me out.

Of course, it's not just the guarantees that will be affected.  Whole tournaments will likely be cancelled.  The summer is when you see a whole lot of mixed games/non-hold'em events run, not just at the WSOP but all around town.  They can offer them because the sheer mass of poker players tends to ensure that there are enough players in town who have interest in these events (which are much less popular the No Limit Hold'em tournaments). Some of these events typically do not have guarantees (though plenty do). But with a lot less people coming to town, can they even afford to run them if they will be poorly attended—even if they don't have guarantees?

Another thing to consider is that poker players look at all the schedules around town to plan their trips.  When can a week in Vegas (or whatever amount of time they have to take off) get them the most bang for the buck, i.e., the most tournaments that they want to play?  If they plan based on certain mixed game events, and also certain big guarantee tournaments, what happens if those events get cancelled?

It'll be a mess, to be sure. 

And if the venue decides to run events as planned, and sees they are getting hammered by overlays, how long before they do remove or lower the guarantees?  Obviously once a tournament starts, they can't (legally) lower or remove the guarantee.  But they can do it before hand (after a day or two of big overlays on their previous days' tournaments).  How much before?

Well, legally I think they can do it right up until the first card is dealt—assuming they announce that and offer a refund to anyone who wants to opt out before seeing the first hand.  But on a practical basis, what is enough "notice"?

As I said, people plan months in advance.  If players come to town and find out a day or two before a big guarantee is gone from an event they planned their trip around, there will surely be some upset poker players.

How would you feel if you were about to buy into a tournament with a huge guarantee only to see a sign at the registration window informing you that the guarantee had been removed or greatly reduced?

Or would it be the case that if this was necessary, the health news would be such that this was pretty much expected and no one willing to play would be surprised or disappointed?

Because that's what, at this moment in time, is what I think is most likely to happen.  The WSOP will take place, as will the other events around town. And they may have to take a look at any tournament offering a guarantee to see if it is still realistic.  And players will hopefully be understanding.

How much notice would you consider fair for a change or an elimination of a guarantee?

Of course, what we would all love to see is that everything gets back to normal relatively soon, in time for a very normal Vegas poker summer.  And I still think that is very possible, and perhaps even likely.  That's certainly what I'm hoping for, as I'm sure you are all (because it would mean the threat from the virus has either been greatly reduced or it turned out that it wasn't the threat some have feared).

I guess we'll see what happens.

In the meantime, relax, take a deep breath, don't panic and drink a Corona.