The One-Outer

This is the first of two parts.  Part 2 will be published Sunday evening.

I’m sure all of my readers have been dying to know how I spent Christmas Day in Vegas.  So at long last, I’m gonna tell you.

Actually it was closer to Christmas night by the time I got started.  I slept late and got a late start for everything I did that day.  I had decided that I would poker at MGM and give that NFL promo another try.  You remember that one, right?  I back-doored my way to $500 the first time I was there for it on my second night in town (see here).

To briefly explain, there’s this game called “football” and…..hmm, maybe that’s a bit more detail than you need.  This took place during the waning days of the NFL season and it was a Sunday so MGM had their football promo.  They have these “Poker Parlay Cards” and they start giving them out two hours before the Sunday Night Football game starts (same for Monday and Thursday night games).  There are five poker hands on it, which are: two pair, three-of-a-kind, straight, flush and a full house.  Every time you make one of those hands, you get that hand stamped.  If you fill out the card with all five stamps before the football game ends, you win $300.  If you fill out the card after the game ends but before midnight, you win $200.  At midnight, they take all the cards that have at least one stamp on them and put them in a drum and pull out two “last chance” winners.  First one gets $500 and second one gets $300.  That’s how I lucked into a $500 win my second night in town.

In order to get the stamp for a hand, there must be $40 in the pot, both of your hole cards must play, and you actually have to win the pot.

I was running so late I didn’t get to the poker room until the football game started.  I hadn’t left my room until then.  I knew at one point I would have to take a dinner break.  I would have to see how I was doing in my quest to fill out the parlay card to figure out when it was best for me to take that dinner break.

I didn’t have to wait too long for a table, I was seated soon after the game started.  And I quite literally was sent to the worst table in the room.  I state that not based on the quality of the game, but based on the weather.  It is in the back corner of the room, closest to the utility/maintenance door which the janitors and the maids open about every 10 minutes to empty the trash or get supplies.  That area is outside the casino and thus in winter, every time they go out there, a huge blast of freezing cold air enters the back of the poker room and hits the back tables, particular the one I was assigned to.  During the summer, when the blast of air is obscenely hot, it’s not nearly as annoying.  Actually, it usually feels good, because the A/C in the casino is set at a comfy 43° year ‘round.  Also, this particular table is sitting directly under one of the A/C vents, so it would be uncomfortably cold even without the door to the outside being opened constantly.

Almost immediately after taking my seat, I wanted to request a table change.  Then I thought I would try to wait it out a bit.  I figured I might take a dinner break early and just cash out, and come back and hopefully get assigned to a new table.  And there didn’t seem to be any point to changing tables if I was just gonna cash out soon.

So I toughed it out, at least for awhile.  But I had to put my heavy jacket on while playing, which is totally ridiculous.  It’s actually a ski jacket and I can assure you I have never taken it skiing.  That kept my upper body almost warm enough but my legs were freezing.  I guess I need to shop for ski pants!

 I had only been at the table a few minutes when I was dealt Queen-Jack of diamonds.  I made it $10 after one limper.  There were only five callers.  The flop came Queen-Jack-X, two clubs.  I bet $35 and no one called.  And I almost forgot to show my hand so I could get a stamp for two pair.  Fortunately, just as I was about to shove my cards face down to the dealer, I remembered and flipped them over.  Stamp #1 in less than 10 minutes.  Cool.

Not long after a new dealer pushed in, one I was mostly unfamiliar with.  She was new.  I may have seen her a time or two this past summer, but not before then.  She comes from a Eurasian country.

Early in her down she dealt me the mighty deuce-four, aka the most powerful hand in poker.  It was even suited (diamonds).  And I was on the button.  I called a $10 raise from the most active player at the table and it was three-way.  The flop was Jack-10-9, two diamonds.  The preflop raiser bet $20, I called and we were heads up.  The turn was the 8 of diamonds, completing my baby flush.  Now I said this guy was the most active player at the table.  He played virtually every hand.   At this stage of the game, I don’t think I’d ever seen him fold preflop.  But he didn’t always raise so he probably had a real hand, at least to start.  The third diamond didn’t bother him, and he bet $50.  Of course, in a situation like that, I’m always worried about a bigger flush. I didn’t think he had the flush but obviously he could have.  I just called.

The river was a black 3 and this time he led out for $75.  Hmm….maybe he did have the bigger flush?  But from playing with him for just a brief time, I knew he was more than capable of making that bet with a lot of hands lesser than the flush—like a straight, for example.  I had pegged him as a recreational player who hadn’t really studied the game much.  Probably plays in a home game back home.  I couldn’t see myself folding.  I called and he turned over Ace-Queen, neither of which was a diamond.  He did have the straight of course.  I took down a really nice pot.  And of course I got the second stamp on my card for the flush.  I dunno why, but for some reason I said to the guy, “I couldn’t convince myself you had a bigger flush there.”  He said, “Yeah, I’m pretty easy to read.”  No, he wasn’t given off any tells.  I just didn’t smell a flush there.

Now I may have gotten some of the details on that hand a little wrong, because I hadn’t started writing notes on it when the next hand started and it was every bit as noteworthy, and then some.

I had pocket 9’s in the cut-off.  The guy from the last hand limped in and then the guy next to him, a fellow who appeared to be from India, made it $10.  I called and so did the limper.  The flop was Queen-9-2, rainbow I think.  But it was checked to me.  The Indian hadn’t been a particular active player up until now, which was a bit of a surprise.  My default stereotype for Indians is that they are pretty aggro.  Clearly not this guy.  So when he checked the flop, I figured he had something like Ace-King, or maybe an under pair to the Queen.  I had to hope the limper would give me some action.  I bet $20 but the limper folded.  However, the Indian called.  Hmm…

The turn was another deuce, filling me up.  Again the Indian checked. He sure didn’t strike me as the type of player who would take a stab at the pot on the river if I checked behind him.  I figured I had to try to squeeze something out of him if I could.  So I bet $25 or $30.  And I was happy to see him call that.

But not as happy as I was to see the river card, which was the case 9.  Sweet.  Even better, instead of checking, he reached for chips to bet with.  Wow.  But he only bet $25, a totally baffling bet.

What to do?  I’ve heard from one dealer pal that if you have the stone-cold nuts, you should always shove.  Sure, you won’t always get called.  But you’ll get called enough in the long run to make it a profitable move.  I’ve never subscribed to that theory, however.  Maybe I should?  I usually just try to figure out the most I can bet and still get a call.

I decided to make a small raise.  Not quite the min-raise, but a little more.  I made it $60.  And I had no idea what he would do.  I figured a fold, a call or a re-raise were all equally likely.  He went for my second choice, a call.

I showed my quads and he turned over—can you guess—pocket Queens!  Holy shit, I was stunned.  I had no idea, none at all, that he was so strong.  Or that I was behind the whole way until the river.  Or….that I had extremely improbably hit my freaking one-outer!

Yeah, I hit a damn one-outer.  Not sure I can remember ever doing that before.  Pretty sure it was a first.

I sorta apologized to him.  I think I said, “I’m not really sorry about it, but that’s a terrible beat.” He said, “That’s ok.”  He was surprisingly good-natured about it.

Then I thought about the hand, the way he played it and all.  We should have gotten it all in on the turn, for sure. I mean, if this was the old west, I would have put my horse, the deed to my ranch and my grandfather’s gold watch in the pot if I could have.  All the while having no clue I was drawing to a one-outer.  But then, on the river, how the hell does he not come over the top when I raise?  Seriously?  He’s got the third nuts but the other two better hands are both quads.  I honestly think I hit my one-outer against the only player on the planet that wouldn’t have shoved on the river (if not before).

I had to ask him…I had to.  “Why didn’t you shove?  Why didn’t you re-raise me?”  I wasn’t asking because I was upset I didn’t get more of his money for my monster.  I was just genuinely curious. 

He replied, “No, no no…I don’t do that.  I don’t go all-in.”

Huh?  I wanted to say to him, “Really? You’re playing the wrong game.”  But of course I didn’t say that.  I didn’t really respond.  I suppose I should have asked him if he would have called my shove or a bigger re-raise (I had him covered by quite a bit, I think he started with ~$200).  I have to think he would have called, but maybe not.  Maybe if I had made it $100 or enough to put him all-in he would have found the fold button?

The thing is, as I kept playing with him during the evening, I realized—and I may have even heard him say—he was new to the game.  I think he was mostly interested in having his one buy-in last as long as possible.  Maybe he wouldn’t have called off all of his chips there if I had forced him to.  I’ll never know.

Now, quads isn’t (aren’t?) on the poker parlay card (neither is a straight flush).  But if you get quads or a straight flush, you are entitled to get stamp for any hand on your card that you need, your choice.  Of course what makes the most sense is to get the highest hand remaining that you still need stamped.  I already had two pair and a flush.  It only made sense to take the stamp for a full house and get that out of the way.  But I have to tell you, the thought crossed my mind to use it for the straight instead.  I swear I make a lot fewer straights than flushes, though it’s not supposed to be that way.  I may even get fewer straights than boats.  I guess it has to do with my starting hand selection.  I really don’t play a lot of connected cards unless they are suited—or really big.  And whenever they’ve run similar promos, it always seems like the straight is the toughest for me to hit.  Nevertheless, I did the “sensible” thing and took the stamp for the full house.

I had been at the table for about a half an hour and had 3/5’s of a card filled out.  I was starting to get optimistic that I could complete the card and win the promo money.

And that’s where part 1 ends. Part 2 is now here and be sure to check it out to see if I hit the promo.

The Four Flush

I’m disappointed I don’t have a better report from my latest session in Ventura.  At one point I was up over $100, and I left about even.  Grrr.

I was down about $100 (from my $300 buy-in at the 2/3 game) when I limped in from the button with 10-8 of clubs.  It was five-way.  The flop was Jack-9-9, two spades, one club.  There was no betting. The Queen of spades hit the turn, and I bet $10, only one player called.  The river was a blank and I just checked behind, there was just too many ways a straight could be beaten there and I thought there was a chance the villain would check-raise.  But he mucked when he saw my straight.

Very next hand I opened to $15 with Ace-Jack of spades and only one guy called, the same villain as the last hand.  King-high flop, one spade, I made a c-bet of $25 and he called.  A blank on the turn and he led out for $50.  I folded.

Then I got two black Aces in early position.  I opened to $15 and got three callers.  The flop was King-high and all spades.  I bet $40.  After a fold, a player announced all-in and the next guy immediately folded.  The all-in bet was probably a bit more than $100.  It was all in one high-stack.  I had him covered and I didn’t think I could/should fold there with the nut flush draw.  Just to be sure, I did peak at my cards first though.  Yep, there was an Ace of spades and an Ace of clubs staring at me.  I announced call.  Neither of us showed.

The suspense was over early as the turn card was another spade, and he said, “Damn,” as soon as he saw it.  The river was blank.  He turned over 6-4 of spades.  Well, that explains the shove.  I took in a nice pot.

That’s the way it’s supposed to work, isn’t it?  Well not supposed to all the time, but at least a percentage of the time, right?  But honestly, in that situation, it’s never worked out for me before.  Well, not in a cash game.  Maybe in a tournament, which is a little different.  But in a cash game where I faced a shove (or even a big bet) with a naked Ace matching the suit of the three cards on the board and then catching another card of the same suit to make the nuts, I just don’t recall that happening.  I’ve seen it happen a lot.  I’ve seen people do it to me.  I just can’t recall ever coming out on the good side of that in a cash game.

Watch, someone will scour through all my old posts and find where I talked about lucking out in that exact situation.  I sure don’t recall it.

The other thing is….what do you think of his play?  There was one other caller when he called my $15 open.  Is it a good play?  Or—is that what he gets for calling with such a weak hand?  Most of the time he’s gonna end up folding on the flop and just be out $15.  This time he lost his stack.  But, after getting lucky with the flop, he got unlucky on the turn.  That’s poker, right?

Of course, with 6-4 of spades, he’s also thinking about a straight.  When I play a low suited connector or one-gapper, I’m always thinking I’d rather hit the straight than the flush.  I figure a low straight will hold up a lot more often than a low flush.

A few hands later I opened to $15 with Ace-King off.  Only one caller, same villain as in the first two hands.  It was a low flop with two diamonds.  I decided not to c-bet.  A black King hit the turn and I bet $25 and he called.  But damn, the river was the Ace of diamonds.  I checked behind.  He had King-Queen so I took it.

That got me up over $100 profit.  But it was the high point of my day.  I kept getting cards to play and missing.  Especially low pocket pairs.  I got 8’s and deuces a lot.  Remember all those posts where I complained about hardly seeing any pocket pairs?  This session made up for that.  Unfortunately I couldn’t hit a single set with all those pairs. And the black Aces were the only pocket pair I saw above 8’s.

I also lost on a big blind hand where I turned two pair (no one bet the flop) and a guy rivered a straight.  I didn’t write down the details but he didn’t bet enough to get me to fold to his river bet.

I did open to $15 with King-Queen of hearts and had just one caller.  The flop was King-high, no hearts.  I bet $25 and he open folded Ace-7 of hearts.  Good thing hearts didn’t come.

As I said, I ended up breaking even for the day.  I didn’t play it safe when I was up $100—even I’m not that tight.  But for a second when I was cashing out, I almost regretted it.  But no—I played the right way.

So maybe this post will please those folks who think my posts are too long?

I Thought it Was "English Only" at the Poker Table

Christmas Eve, I ended up at the Mirage.  When I got to my 1/2 game, I couldn’t help noticing a rather odd looking fellow at the table.  He had a big cowboy hat, the brim of which was rolled up on one side, and a leather jacket with fringes.  It was like he couldn’t decide whether he was a cowboy or an Indian.

He was a pretty colorful character to say the least.  In front of him was this pair of rubber, oversized dice. They weren’t just card protectors. Whenever it was his turn to act, he’d roll the dice, saying that the result of the dice roll would determine his action.  So one time he’d roll a 7 and say he had to raise.  Another time he’d roll a 9 and say he had to call.  But really, as far as I could tell, the actual number he rolled didn’t mean a damn thing.  One time he’d roll an 11 and decide to just call, another time it might have meant a raise—or a fold.  It was just part of his eccentricity.

At first he was pretty aggro, then he calmed down a bit.  Then he got aggressive again and moved to another table that he heard offered more action.

Since my last post (here) mentioned some horrible cocktail service, I guess I should discuss the service on this night.  I’ve always considered the Mirage to have especially bad cocktail service, but this night it wasn’t bad at all—just weird. 

Early on in my session, a waitress came by and took our orders, mine included.  Less than 10 minutes later a totally different waitress came over and asked us if we wanted anything.  At first I said no, then I thought I better play it safe.  This was the night after I’d had to get my own drink at Caesars, so you can’t be too careful.  I told her that another waitress had just been by and she had taken my order.  This new waitress said, “Oh, she’s taking a break for an hour, what do you want?”  So I ordered again.

A few minute after waitress #2 left the room, waitress #1 returned with my diet Coke (and everyone else’s drinks).  So when she handed me my drink, I said to her, “We were told you were on an hour break.”  She said, “Who told you that?”  I told her it was the other waitress, who I noticed had come back in the room just then with a tray full of drinks.  So waitress #1 went over to waitress #2 and they chatted.  I don’t know what they figured out, but waitress #2 eventually dropped off all her drinks, including my diet Coke.  So now I had two drinks in front of me.  I tell you, it’s either feast or famine. 

But it’s a good thing I had the two drinks, because I didn’t see either waitress again for a good hour.

There were only two notable hands during the night.  The first one was when I had pocket Aces. I guess my stack was down to around $150 (from $200).  The player two to my right opened to $10.  He had only recently come to the table so I didn’t know much about him. He had me covered.  I made it $30 and it folded back to him and he called.

The flop was King-5-4, rainbow.  He checked and I bet $45.  And then he announced “all-in.”  Well I had already put close to half my stack in the pot and I didn’t see how I could fold.  Maybe he was being aggressive with Ace-King?  I called.  We didn’t show.  The turn was a blank and the river was a 10, which looked like a blank to me.

But then he announced, “I have a three-of-a-kind” and flipped over pocket 10’s.  What the hell?  He checked-shoved with pocket 10’s on a King-high board?  And then totally sucked out on me by hitting his two outer?  Damn.

I whispered a totally insincere “nice hand” as I reached for my wallet to re-buy.  I later heard him tell the person next to him that he was just trying to get me off the hand.

Something happened after I rebought that really annoyed me.  A female dealer pushed in.  I recognized her from previously playing in the room. She mentioned that she was “dual-rate”, which means that sometimes she deals and sometimes she’s a floor person.  During her down, the player on my immediate right got a phone call.  He answered it and began speaking in a foreign language—some type of middle Eastern language, I believe.  He was talking loudly in this language and didn’t step away from the table.  In fact, he kept playing, getting involved in hands all the time talking on the phone in a foreign language.

The issue wasn’t that he was talking while playing.  That’s generally allowed these days in cash games (but almost never in tournaments).  The issue is that one of the basic rules of virtually any poker room I’ve ever been in is, “English only at the table.”  Some rooms insist that English be spoken at all times, others are more lenient and allow foreign languages to be spoken between hands.  But for sure, when cards are in play, you’re not allowed to speak anything but English, even a player not in the hand.

This guy played like four or five hands all the while talking on the phone in his native language. And I kept waiting for the dealer to say something to him, to tell him the rule and give him the option of stepping away or hanging up.  But she completely ignored it.  The guy was pretty much sitting directly across from her so there is no way she didn’t hear him.  He wasn’t exactly whispering.  I kept looking at her and she totally ignored it.

I know I should have said something but I am always reluctant to do so in that situation.  I feel that the dealer should do her job, and I don’t want to piss someone off for a non-poker reason (as opposed to taking all his chips in a hand—I don’t mind pissing someone off that way).  So I just seethed in silence. It was especially annoying since the dealer claimed to be a sometime floor person.  Certainly she should know the rules and know that they should be enforced.

So, I vowed (to myself) not to tip her if I won any hands while she was dealing.  And in fact, after the guy finally ended his call, I did win a very small pot.  I think I raised preflop after a few limpers and didn’t get a call.  And yes, I did not tip this dealer.  Now, it was such a small pot she may well have thought I didn’t tip her because the pot was so small.  But actually, even though there wasn’t much in there, I would have normally tipped her a buck for that pot.  But not this time.

Of course, she may have noticed the looks I was giving her while the guy was talking on the phone.  If that’s the case, she probably knows why I didn’t tip her and why I wouldn’t have tipped her if it had been a $400 pot.  By the way, I did confirm after the session was over that Mirage does indeed have an “English-only at  the table” rule.

My pal Kristi deals at the Mirage.  I had seen her before I got into a game and she asked me how my heart was.  I told her it was holding up well—and then I added a qualifier.  I told her that in a week in Vegas, I hadn’t really taken any bad beats, and that would be the true test.  And that was basically true. Although I had taken my share of loses, I hadn’t been handed any particularly bad beats during that first week.  I also hadn’t won any monster pots, either.

Well that hand I mentioned above where I was felted with pocket Aces by a rivered set was a bad beat and a pretty good test for my ticker.  And apparently it held up quite well. 

Speaking of Kristi, she was the dealer for the other notable hand of the night.  I had pocket 4’s and I called $15 in a four-way pot.  Kristi put out a pretty decent flop for me—4-2-2.  But the preflop raiser checked, so did the next guy.  There was one guy behind, the person sitting directly on my left.  He reminded of the guy who plays “Raj” on Big Bang Theory (he was not the guy talking on his phone earlier).  He was a pretty aggressive player and I thought if I checked, he would likely bet to try to steal the pot (or maybe he had something).  So I checked. 

Raj didn’t disappoint me.  He bet $15.  That was a pretty small bet into $60 pot.  The preflop raiser tanked for a good while but folded.  The other guy folded quickly.  I reluctantly just called figuring that Raj was unlikely to call a check-raise.  The turn was a blank.  I checked again and Raj bet—but only another $15.  I just called.  I wondered if it was time to check-raise, but I suspected he was barreling with nothing and wouldn’t call.

The river was another blank and this time I felt I couldn’t risk him checking behind.  It was a tough call.  He might have fired another barrel, but I didn’t want to risk it.  I figured I’d bet something small enough so if he had anything at all he might call.  I bet $35.  He tanked for a long time.  I was waiting for him to just fold but instead he finally started grabbing some chips and before he put them out he said, “$80.”

Oh boy.  The problem was I didn’t have much more than a min-raise left (he had me covered).  There was nothing I could do but announce “all-in.”  And he wasted no time in mucking his cards, saying to me, “Nice hand.” Then he picked up the rest of his chips and left the game.

Well that was a nice recovery.  I won another couple of small pots before leaving.  I recovered all but about $50 of my $400 buy-in.