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.

Yes, I've Played This Game Before, Honest!

So I actually played poker this past Saturday.  First time in like four months.

The thing is, no one who saw me play this particular hand—the one hand I actually won—  would ever believe I’d actually played poker before—ever.

My excuse is that it had been four months since I’ve played poker.  And also, well, I’ve played poker only eight times total (including this time) since early March, 2020.

My  last session before Saturday was in late June.  Why haven’t I played since?  Several reasons, but the main one is the damn mask mandate.  Last couple of times I played at the Bike, there was no mask requirement.  But soon after my last session there, the L.A. County Board of Supervisors, in their infinite wisdom, brought back the mask requirement for all indoor activities.  Whether you are vaccinated or not.

I hate wearing a mask, I hate other people having to wear a mask.  Masks are for costume parties, that’s it.  They are uncomfortable, annoying, and make it harder for me to breathe. I had played a few times at the Bike without a mask and it was so much better than the previous times when I did have to wear a mask. Knowing I would have to wear a mask for two, three, four hours was more than enough to keep me out of the poker room.

Especially since the drive to and from the Bike is so unpleasant for me.  The older I get, the less tolerant I get fighting bad traffic, and the traffic down to the Bike (and in Southern California generally) seems to get worse every year. The players at the Bike are not as pleasant as they were at the old Player’s Casino in Ventura, and for whatever reason, I have worse results at the Bike than I did in Ventura.

However, after four months of abstinence, even an old curmudgeon like me had to relent. It was time to put on the stupid mask and play with some chips and look at some cards.

To enter the casino, I had to present my player’s card (which they recorded) and put my mask on. I was relieved that they didn’t ask me about my vaccination status.  But I’m sure that will happen soon.  Both the county of L.A. and the city of L.A. have some extremely restrictive rules coming down the pike, and between the two of them, it will be almost impossible to go inside anywhere without proving you have had the jab.  Or two jabs.  Or three. Although the dictates are in place, I guess the actual enforcement isn’t quite in effect.  Soon.

Thanks to the excellent PokerAtlas app, I was able to get on the waitlist during the hour-long drive down there.  As a result, I only had to wait about five minutes before getting called into the game (as soon as I arrived, I pushed the bottom on the app notifying them of my presence and was immediately number one on the list—sweet!)

The tables are still eight-handed, and thankfully, no plexiglass.  Even better, unlike the last time I played there and had to wear a mask, you could drink (and even eat) at the tables, as long as you pulled your mask back up as soon as you finished putting the food or beverage in your mouth. Even better, they had folks patrolling the room frequently with a beverage cart that had coffee, water, beer, energy drinks and even sodas.  I soon had a can of Diet Pepsi to nurse during the session, at a cost of two bucks (plus a buck tip).  Honestly, I would have gotten something to drink even if I hadn’t been thirsty, just so I would have a legit excuse to lower my mask from time to time.  As it was, I did take a break once to go outside and catch a few breaths of fresh air.

To start, I was totally card dead.  For an hour, I practiced the fine art of folding.  No pocket pairs, no Ace-anything good, suited or not, no big face cards, so suited connectors (unless you count 4-3 of hearts once), basically nothing to play.  Somehow though, I had managed to lose close to $50 of my $300 buy-in for this 2/3 game.  Blinds mostly, but I must have played something else; I didn’t record what.  It wasn’t with a good starting hand, I can assure you of that.

Then, in the small blind, I had Ace-Jack off-suit.  This was the closest thing to a good hand I’d seen all day.  And of course, it ain’t that good.  Not out of position, as I was.  I at least remembered that much.  Up until then, my rustiness hadn’t mattered, as I wasn't getting cards that even made me think of what a decent starting hand was.  I knew I’d have to let it go if anyone raised.  But no one did.  A bunch of people limped (as was not unusual for this table, it was a pretty tame bunch).  I knew the big blind had become more interested in waiting for his table change to come through than in playing.  I knew this because he had stopped straddling my big blind as he had been previously doing.  I didn’t expect him to raise unless he really had something.  Besides, when the small blind is ⅔’s of the big blind, it makes sense to play it raither than fold for a buck, right?  At least, that’s what I recalled from many months ago.

I tossed in a buck and the big blind checked behind me.  It seemed like at least five of us (maybe six?) saw the flop.  It was King-Queen-x, rainbow.  I checked the gut-shot and someone bet $21.  A couple of more callers and so it seemed like I was getting decent pot odds to chase the straight.  Four of us saw the turn, another brick.  Some low card that put all four suits on the board. I checked, and this time it checked to the button, who bet $20.  Well now, depending on how many calls and if no one raised, I’d be getting reasonable odds to chase, plus there were some implied odds to consider. Then too, if the 10 came, it would give me the stone-cold nuts.  The board wouldn’t be paired, and there was no chance for anyone to make a flush.

Well, two more did call, no raise, and then the dealer put out the river card.  Yeah, it was a 10.  Yes, I had the nuts.  I had to decide if I should bet it.  I knew that if I bet, when all I had been doing was calling, it would send up a red flag. Especially since I had been in so few hands.  I just kind of felt that someone would likely bet.  I checked, the next two players checked, and in my mind, I was suddenly sure I had blown it. I was convinced the button would check too, and I was preparing my speech as I prepared to show my cards. “I was hoping someone would bet!”

Instead, the button announced “all-in.”

Holy shit!  I looked at his stack (not that it mattered), it looked very similar to mine, so I didn’t even consider asking for a count, although of course I should have, as you will see. 

What happened next was probably the lamest five seconds of my poker career.  I had not one, but two brain-farts in a record amount of time.

Instead of pretending to tank, I shouted, “Call” as loudly and as excitedly as I possibly could. How loud was I? Pretty sure they heard me call over at the Commerce.  I have a vague recollection of someone saying something like, “Wow, now that’s a call.”  That would have been bad enough, but it got worse.

Without thinking (obviously), I flipped over my hand!  I heard the button groan, but I somehow managed to forget that there were two players left in the hand with both cards and chips.  WTF?  I dunno where my mind went, but the dealer immediately told me that there were still two players left to act.

Shit.  How dumb could I be?  Have I ever played this game before?  I gave no evidence of it right then, that’s for sure.  The other two players folded.  Note:  I had them both covered, one of them had less than half my stack and the other one about half of mine or a little more.  Other players commented, “Well they wouldn’t have called anyway.” One added, “Unless they had the bottom end.”  Yeah.  If someone had Jack-9 they likely would have called.  Except with two all-ins in front of them, including me, the tightest player at the table, I think even Jack-9 might have found a fold. But then…..well, this is the Bike.  But another thing makes me think neither of the other guys had Jack-9.  They would have told me.  I really can’t imagine a guy with Jack-9 there, waiting to act, not telling me—hell, not showing me—that he had Jack-9 and sarcastically thanking me for saving him money.  Also….I bet anyone with Jack-9 there likely would have bet out instead of checking.

So my double brain-fart likely didn’t cost me money.  When the dealer counted our stacks, the button was left with about $13 and he took off to get more chips.  When he came back, he seemed fine, albeit muttering about the damn 10.  Much later, when I left the table, he was real nice and quietly kvetched about the straight I caught.  I insincerely apologized and he said something like no problem, that’s poker.  A good sport at the Bike?  Who’da thunk it?  Then he said that the 10 gave him two pair (most likely Queen-10 because if he had top pair I think he would have played the flop and the turn more aggressively) and he was actually value betting.

On the way home, I pondered that.  Value betting? Was that a value bet?  I mean, if he was value betting, wouldn’t he have bet a lot less?  An over-shove when he had the biggest stack is not a value bet, is it?  Or have I forgotten more about poker than I thought?  No one is calling his shove unless they have two pair beat, not with the obvious straight on the board.  A value bet should have been much smaller to get a top pair or a lesser two pair to call.  Am I right about that?

But at the time I just nodded.

I seemed to have digressed—that is so unlike me.  Let’s go back to the five seconds where I acted like I had never even heard the word “poker” before. I dunno what happened.  My initial reaction, after I was reminded that there were two players still in the hand, was to mutter something like, “Homina, homina, homina…...this is the first time I’ve played in four months.  I’m rusty.  But I swear I’ve played poker before!”  Yeah, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  In truth, this was only the eighth time I’ve played poker in some 20 months, as I’ve mentioned.  Of course that’s no excuse for my actions, it really isn’t.  I don’t think I did two things in a row that stupid any time while I was learning to play in a live poker room. Sigh  At least I remembered what a straight was, and that it didn’t beat a flush!

I had never felt so embarrassed, so humiliated after actually winning a pot—a big pot at that. I can only remember feeling that embarrassed after doing something dumb and losing a big pot.  I wanted to run away and hide instead of stacking my chips.  I assumed the player who had given me most of those chips must have felt especially bad, having lost money to a guy who had seemingly never played poker before. As I was stacking my chips, I felt like saying, “Honest guys, I’ve played this game before.  I mean....I  work in poker.  I write about poker.  I’ve had a popular poker blog for over 10 years!  Really.”  Of course I didn’t say any of those things and in fact was quite happy that I was totally anonymous and no one there knew who the hell I was. The last thing I wanted was for someone to recognize me.

And I had to stay there with all those fellows for a while.  My first instinct was to pick up my chips and take off, or at least go to another table where no one knew I had acted like the newbie to end all newbies. But I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t do what would look like a hit-and-run.  No way.  That would be wrong, plus it would make me look like even more of a newbie, right? I had no choice but to keep playing with these guys.

Here’s what my stack looked like after I stacked my chips:

I had over $280 profit for the session.  Again, I wonder if I left money on the table?  I honestly don’t think so but I’ll never really know.

For the rest of the session, I went back to being totally, totally card dead.  I didn’t play another hand.  I finished the day never having seen a pocket pair or an Ace-King or Ace-Queen or a suited connector. I swear I never had a hard decision to even play a speculative hand.

As I was getting really uncomfortable having that mask on all the time (though I did take frequent small sips of that Diet Pepsi so I’d have an excuse to at least pull it down), I really couldn't last more than two hours.  I needed to breathe.  Besides, it was a pretty unpleasant experience. With masks on, there was virtually zero conversation at the table. Those masks are such a great inhibitor to socializing.  I switched to poker from table games years ago because I loved the social aspect of the game.  That is gone.  Everyone looked miserable too.  Of course that could just be because I couldn’t see half of their faces.  Maybe they were smiling or laughing underneath those masks?  

So I racked up and booked a $250 win.  I played exactly one hand post-flop, won it, and that was the entire win, right there, that one hand.  Where I acted like a guy who had never played poker before.

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.

California Poker--Inside & Out

Since I’ve last blogged. I’ve actually played poker. Live poker.  Twice, in fact.

Now the last time I’d played previously was in October at the Bike and I reported this to you here. I didn’t return, and if you read that post you’ll understand why. I especially hated the use of porta-potties instead of the virtually brand new restrooms they had just inside the facility.  Then colder weather came, and then the state put us back in total lockdown early in December for a few months.  They closed card rooms, indoor dining and they even banned outdoor dining.

Sometime earlier this year, not sure when, they opened up a bit.  Outdoor dining was allowed, then even the card rooms could open for outdoor gaming. I resisted going back because of the cooler weather and because I didn’t like the restroom situation.  However, L.A. county did finally ok indoor dining (25% capacity), at which time I saw The Bike promoting the fact that they were now offering indoor dining in a couple of their eateries.  I assumed that meant the inside restrooms would be open.  Perhaps it was worth a trip down there.

So three weeks ago, on a Saturday, I went down to the Bike. I was right, you could now enter the building to either eat or use the facilities, but the main purpose of the Bike, to play games of skill and chance, was still relegated to outside.

One new thing was that you had to have your ID scanned in order to enter the property.  I assume that they want to track everyone who was there in case they get some kind of COVID outbreak. (In case you have forgotten, I received my second vaccination in early March, see here).

It was a fine day weather wise and the outdoor nature of the game was not an issue on this day.  I used the PokerAtlas app to get on the waiting list and didn’t have to wait too long for them to open a new game for me and seven other alleged poker players.

It was my usual game, 2/3 NLH, $100-$300. The tables were filled with plexiglass, and it seemed to me that there was more plexiglass than I remembered.  The tables were 8-handed, and sitting in one of the two center seats, across for the dealer, seemed cramped. Oh, I had plenty of legroom, but both my arms were butted up against the side plexiglass for my spot pretty much the whole time.  I had heard that during the original lockdown, the Bike had ordered new, larger tables to accommodate social distancing.  Still, I was cramped, eight-handed.  

Masks are required at all times, this is a statewide mandate.  Masks are required whenever you leave your house, inside and out. Technically, I am not allowed to walk the few yards to my mailbox without wearing a mask. And you are not allowed to eat, or drink, at the table.  Can’t even have a capped water bottle that you keep closed and sip occasionally.  That is strictly against the rules.  Again, this is a government mandate, not the Bike’s. 

One thing I will say, playing poker in these conditions is a lot less fun than pre-COVID.  Between the masks and the plexiglass, conversation is virtually non-existent. One of the reasons I switched to poker from table games long, long ago was that poker was such a social game. And it’s conversations at the poker table that result in my best blog stories.  No more.  In two sessions, virtually no one said a word. And it was very difficult to hear anyone, especially the dealers, most of whom had heavy duty masks and face shields.  I had to be very careful to make sure I totally understood what the dealer was saying before acting.

Once I started playing, I felt rather rusty.  It had been so long since I’d played regularly that I forgot how to play to some degree.  Of course I knew the rules, I just didn’t feel I had the right strategy or the right at-the-ready experience for any situation that might come up. I can hear some of you saying, “he never knew how to play anyway!”

I was card dead, which because of my rustiness, was fine by me.  I wanted to get back into it gradually and the garbage hands I was chucking hand after hand made that easy to do.

At the end, it seemed like I only played two hands, the only two pocket pairs I got.  One was Aces and one was Kings.  I won with one and lost with the other.  If you need me to tell you which is which, then this must be your first time reading the blog. But I think I suffered because of inexperience.  Well, inexperience with the Aces.  Maybe I just was spooked by the dreaded pocket Kings.  I guess it’s still me, rusty or not.

I had played nearly an hour and probably hadn’t played any hands but the blinds.  I got two Aces and a guy in front of me raised to $11. I made it $28 and it folded back to the original raiser, who made it $54.  I didn’t think too much (dumb), I just took a $100 stack of reds and put it out there next to my $28.  I should have raised more.  This time he just called. 

Like the time I played in October, this wasn’t the typical Bike game I recalled from when I played there regularly years back.  There was no wild action.  It was actually nitty.  No one was out of line. So when he four-bet me, I was sure he had a real premium hand. Like pocket Kings. Maybe Queens. Or Ace-King. Nothing else. Especially since this guy had been at the table as long as I had and he probably saw that my three-bet was my first raise, and really, my first voluntary bet of any kind. He had to know I had a big hand.

So when the flop was King-high, dry and rainbow, I panicked.  I assumed he had just hit a set of Kings.  Well, I didn’t assume it but I was sure worried about it. When he checked I worried he was setting a trap, so I checked behind.  A brick on the turn and again, it went check, check.  Same thing on the river.  My lack of recent playing experience cost me. Of course I should have realized he wouldn’t play a set of Kings like that. Maybe he’d check the flop, but he’d come out firing on the turn. I needed more practice.

I said, “I guess you don’t have Kings?” as I showed my Aces.  He hesitated for a bit and then showed his pocket Jacks quickly before mucking them.

I’d like to think if I’d been playing poker regularly for the past year I would have played that better, and maybe gotten some more money from him. On the other hand, he might not have called any bets with that King out there, the same King that freaked me out.

The only other time I raised was a bit later when I got the pocket Kings myself in early position.  I opened to $15 (which was actually on the high side for this table, that’s how unBikelike it was).  I had two callers. The flop was Jack-high, I bet $25, one caller.  The turn was another Jack.  I checked. He bet $55.  

It was me. It was pocket Kings. It was my first poker session in over five months.  I couldn’t shake the feeling he had a Jack. A Jack was certainly in his range, right?  Ace-Jack, King-Jack, etc?  I didn’t trust any other read I could come up with, so I folded.  I think it is most likely I made a bad fold, but I’ll never know.  Again, I couldn’t remember how to play, but I could remember how many times Kings have cost me dearly.  Oh well.

I really couldn’t play longer than two hours. I find it even more annoying wearing a mask while sitting down and playing poker than I do when I am shopping at Walmarts. Also, the lack of water was really tough on me. I have a dry mouth problem, I can’t go that long without some liquid. I had smuggled in a couple of tiny bottles of water but I would have had to have left the area, with my jacket, in order to get to it.  I just cashed out and drank one of the bottles of water on the long hike to my car.

I was able to book a $75 win thanks to those Aces, at least.

Two Saturdays later, just the other day, I returned to the Bike. I had noticed they were now offering indoor gaming. L.A. county had progressed to where indoor dining was now up to 50% capacity, not 25%, and this meant that card rooms could have some indoor tables, if they were properly spaced out. I assumed that there was no way there would be room for all of the Bike’s games inside, and that it would be a mix of indoor and outdoor. I assumed the tables games, where they make their big bucks, would be the first allowed indoors, followed by the huge buy-in poker games. My crummy little 2/3 game would be the last to get inside.  

So imagine my surprise when I got there and the outdoor area where I had played just two weeks ago had been turned back into the driveway for the valet parking.  Yes, all the games were now inside, including all the poker.  Now, some of the outside areas that were now deserted looked like they could still be used for gaming if they got super-busy, but basically, the Bike is like it was pre-lockdown. The tables were a little farther apart, but not really all that much. I’m sure their setup had to be blessed by the county health officials, who of course, always know what they are doing. Of course, there was still no eating/drinking at the table, all of which still had  plexiglass. Masks of course were still mandatory.

Now it happened that the weather this Saturday was particularly picture perfect, even by Southern California standards.  Playing outside this day would have been pretty damn nice. Still, it was good to see the progress we are making that we could play poker inside, like civilized human beings.

One thing that seemed to be worse inside than outside was the plexiglass.  The fluorescent lighting indoors reflected horribly off the plexiglass, making it even harder to see. I was sitting next to the dealer, normally a great seat from me to see from, and had trouble reading the board.  Another player on the other side of the table had to constantly ask the dealer to read the board to him, and sometimes she slid the cards right in front of him. And this guy was a lot younger than me, and wasn’t even wearing glasses (though I suppose he might have had contact lenses).

I was a little less card dead this session, but that didn’t work out to my benefit. Won a small pot with Ace-9 off in the big blind. I opened to $15 with Ace-Queen suited from UTG+1 but didn’t get a call.

Then I ran up against a guy who reminded me of Mr. Subliminal. He probably didn’t look anything like Mr. S, but I never remember what Mr. S looks like when I do run into him, and for some reason that was the first thing that came to mind when I saw this guy.

I guess out of boredom I limped with Ace-5 of hearts.  It was 4 or 5 way. The flop was Queen-Jack-10, one heart.  With a gutshot and the back door flush draw, I called Not Mr. Subliminal’s bet of $20, we were heads up.  No bet on the turn, a brick.  Another brick on the river, he bet $20.  I honestly thought my Ace might be good, he had made a few other river bets (that didn’t get called) that I suspected might be bluffs. Ace-high is a bluff catcher, right?  I called but he showed me a 10.

Then the hand that really stuck in my craw, against the same guy. I had pocket Queens UTG and made it $15. Only this guy called.  The flop was 10-9-3, rainbow. I led out for $25, and after thinking for a bit, he went all-in!  He had over $220 and I had him covered, but barely. I tanked.

It wasn’t a draw heavy board. Would he play a set that way?  I didn’t think so, that would be bad play. I mean, I hadn’t played like a guy who would raise with Queen-Jack under the gun. He might have had the draw himself, I suppose, and was making a semi-bluff.  One way or the other, I felt I was probably ahead. He couldn’t play a set that badly, could he?  Well, I never convinced myself that he could have, but I couldn’t convince myself that he didn’t have a set, either.  Would he play two pair like that? Maybe?  Anyway, again, I will blame my rustiness, but I just couldn’t find the call in me. I folded. Pretty sure I made a bad fold, but I’ll never know.

Inside, I was able to last a full two and a half hours with the damn mask and no water, but I had to call it a day down $125. But I suspect I’ll start spending more and more Saturday afternoons playing some poker, our government lords and masters willing.