In lieu of movie-going on Friday night, a few of us got together to play some mini-tournaments up at Anthony's. I won the first two. At the end of the second one, I was shooting it out as usual, and the method was working so well on Anthony that he thought I had some kind of tell on him. He finally got all-in with a bluff, and I called him down. It wasn't that I was reading him so well, of course, but that my strategy was designed to take advantage of any mistake he might make, and not to strike until my own position was good. The second tournament he made the same exact mistake, except there was much less foreplay. I held A2, calling from the small with no raise. Since I had been playing aggressively, he figured I had less than an ace. I limped in partly because he has preached to me so often about the weakness of the ace when the kicker is poor. He's right. The pair of aces on the flop can be disastrous when your kicker is weak. This flop, however, was AA3. I bet lightly, and he thought I was weak, because he came over the top with an all-in bet. A few things went through my mind at that point. I thought, "He has the other ace, and I can't call." I also thought, "Would he come over the top without the ace, hoping to scare me off? Wouldn't he try to milk me slowly if he had it?" What finally decided me was his chip stack. It was just too small for me to worry about him having the ace. We were playing this thing for money after all, and my strategy dictated that when I probably had the advantage I should try to take all his chips, and thus the nice wad of money put away in the card box. I told him, "I just don't think you have that other ace. I call." I flipped mine up, being careful to expose my deuce kicker, and he mucked.