I did get to play in the Thursday night game last week. I almost wish that I had been banned. Not only did I manage to not win the tournament (or come in the money), but because my table was playing so loosely, I felt compelled to buy in a second time after my AQ suited flopped a queen, and someone called with a flush draw and hit. That certainly was not the worst of the night, however. I lost $60 before the tournament in the cash game, partly by failing to call when I should have, and partly by failing to fold when I should have against the same player. In the cash game afterwards, I sat down to find a lot of players who could play fairly well and who had deep pockets. They were giving a lot of loose calls, however, and it looked like it might be promising. There were two high quality players at the table, and one of them caught the deck for the first three hours, amassing a huge stack of chips and proceeded to play them pretty well. I helped out a lot in his stack building when we both flopped a set (mine were only twos, his were fives) and I lost about $180. Rough going for the casual no-limit player. After that I dropped into my super tight-aggressive game, hoping for good cards since I knew I would still get action from these call happy fools (they weren’t really playing foolish, as all their action more or less cancelled each other out). The cards just never came. At one point I took the opportunity to tell about the time I pulled the lever one hundred times on a slot machine without a single pay and described my run of cards as something akin to that. After all, I didn’t want them to think too much when I finally did raise. By 3 a.m. I was busted out when I went over top (about $60) with a pair of sixes with K88 on the flop, when the blind stealing player to my left bet $20 after limping pre-flop. He had an 8. What can you do? Altogether I was down $330 for the night, which was all but a hundred of what I’d won the weekend before. I was a little humiliated, and I say that in the strictest literal sense.

One notable event did occur that should have made me go home and lick my wounds when I was only about a hundred down. The loosest player at the table, the one who was keeping it a profitable situation for me, got mad at the dealer and left. He must have been on tilt pretty badly at that point, since he got hopelessly confused about how much money was to be in a side pot in a hand in which he didn’t win a piece, and then wanted to argue about it. The dealer wouldn’t hear it. I think in the dealer’s position I would have just apologized and let everyone else at the table think the offender foolish behind his back. In any case, the player left in a huff. I was actually going to switch to a different table right then, after having a good look around at who was left, but unluckily for me, the other table broke up at that very moment. If that dealer happens to be reading this, I hope he understand that I wasnt upset with him when I got up to go to the other table, I just felt like the guy who left might have been all that was giving me the best of it.

The next night was our comfortable little home game and I won $125. It was enough that I didn’t leave the weekend with a sour taste in my mouth. It would have been more but I made a terrible mistake in reading the board. I started with KQ suited and flopped a four-flush of diamonds. It had been a lot of hands since I had such a good draw. On the river the deuce of diamonds fell, and I’d made my near nut flush. I checked, was bet into $25, and then I raised $50. We both had much larger stacks than that but Anthony announced as he called that he figured unless I had 2-2 we were going to split anyway. You know that reaction you get sometimes when you try to lift something you didn’t know was heavy, or when you think you’re drinking Coke but it’s really Doctor Pepper? That was how I took those words. I had failed to see that the deuce didn’t just make a pair on the board; it made two pair. Anthony showed his five for the full, and with resignation, I announced that I just had the king-high flush. Reminds me of the guy who lost the back forty betting inside straight draws, and then lost the rest of the farm when he finally hit one.

I want to record the second memorable hand as promised, but first I want to tell about something I did tht made me feel terrible on Thursday night. It was completely innocent, but if anyone caught it, they probably now think that I am a terrible cheat. I was sitting directly to the right of a fairly good player who plays very tightly. I believe I was in the big blind and therefore the last to act. As soon as the cards were dealt, the player to my left raised all-in. He had been blinding down for hours and he had only thirty-three or four dollars left. This got everyone out of the hand all the way around the table. As soon as he had made the bet, two thing happened. First I decided that I was definitely folding my hand. It was one middle card and one low card that didn't reach and they weren't even suited. I'd have been foolish to call. The other thing that happened was thet the player to my left who had made the bet held his cards up edgewise in front of him, with the bottom against the edge of the table, staring at them while everyone else folded. Seeing that, and being very tired from hours of play and not really thinking properly, I leaned over a few inches to my left in an attempt to see if he really had a hand or if he was just stealing the blinds. I had forgotten that I was still in the hand! The dealer reminded me, "Brinton, are you out?" I was shocked and immediately felt terrible. I hadn't yet thrown in my hand. I immediately apologized and grabbed my cards and tossed them in. Hopefully if I go back this Thursday they won't meet me at the door and invite me to find some place else to play.

Now, on to the other interesting hand.

After the departure of a couple players who abhor the sight of any poker hand where they have to touch more than two cards, the rest of us decided to mix it up a little. One of the games we played was seven card stud. It's a weakness of mine, as I like to see fourth and fifth street too much to be healthy. I remember being much younger and thinking that any first three cards where one had two to a straight or two to a flush was worth a call, and this was when we were playing limit! Hell, I still almost play that way, I just can't get over it. In this particular hand, it started just a little better that that, with the only reason to stay being that I had not two, but three cards to a straight, and two of them were even suited. The bet was minimal if there was a bet at all. By fourth street things weren't looking too bad, as I had a small pair, three to a flush and three to a straight. The player to my right, who had an ace and a face card showing, bet ten dollars. I wanted to call. I probably shouldn't have called, but given who it was, and given my stack size, I just couldn't help it. On fifth street, I had four to a flush, and four to a straight, although the straight needed only a seven, and I think one may have been already dead. There was another ten dollar bet, and I called again, all by myself this time. The bettor's hand had gathered a second face card and was looking rather dire. Sixth street didn't help me at all. It was a ten. The bettor bet ten, having I think a ten of his own, needing only a queen in the hole to make his straight. On seventh street, I received my second eight, giving me two not very good pair. The bettor bet ten once again. Not having made my straight, flush, or even trips, any of which I really felt would have been enough, I was forced to settle with two pair. I thought about it. I had the bettor on two high pair. I felt like he had been betting aces up or aces and then aces up the whole hand. Still, there was a lot of money in the pot, about seventy dollars or so. I rated the chances that my had was the best at no more than twenty percent, but even at that, I was getting excellent pot odds to call, seven to one money for four to one risk. I probably on rated my hand chances this well because I never believed the straight. I would have been more suprised to have been beaten by a straight than what actually did happen. As with all bets on the end due to nothign but the odds, I tossed in the ten dollars not expecting to get it back, but I did. My hand was just fine. He'd been betting on aces the whole time.

Another little something that might have subconciously helped was that last ten dollar bet. It looked like a value bet if ever there was one. He bet where I'd have to call. Where this would look like a sensible play from some players, this player isn't known for making good value bets on the end when he has the hand locked up. He did, however, finally cnvince me that I was going to have to start making value bets to him on the river, because he just isn't going to throw all his chips away anymore trying to prove I am a liar.

My run continued last week. I won a little over four hundred dollars between Thursday and Friday night. Before Friday night's game I was told by one player that I was going to be taken down. Indeed, he and another player had a side bet going on who was going to take away my stack first. Anthony won, but more on that in a moment. Fortunately with my second stack of chips I was more successful. With thirty dollars left I was forced to call Anthony's all-in bluff. I did and I never looked back.

There were a few interesting scenarios throughout the night. Let me say to begin I was intentionally put in the bad position of being directly to Anthony's right. This means I had to mentally stiffen my play a bit, and be very careful with marginal hands, especially from the small blind and no other callers. Anthony knows that I will call with almost anything in that situation. He was happy to take my loose calls with a raise. Finally, I caught ace-jack in the small and limped in hoping to trap him, even though there was another player left in the pot, and sure enough, he raised ten dollars. The player to my right was a little slow in deciding what he wanted to do. Also, there was some story being told while everyone was looking at their cards. Anthony had been speaking as he looked at his cards, and his tempo and his coherence never changed the smallest bit. I put him on nothing special. I took the delay as an opportunity to grab a Diet Pepsi out of the refrigerator, and then returning to the table, made it a point to have one more look at my cards. I then raise all-in. I had over thirty dollars left. I worry about what he has, but having what I think is dead read on his hand as nothing particularly great, I'm not sweating it. Imagine my surprise when he flips over ace-ace. I did manage to get a gut-shot straight draw on the flop, but the final card never came and I found myself reaching for more cash. It was the first time I ever remember being so incredibly sure about the strength of an opponent's hand and yet being so incredibly wrong.

The above hand has been altered to fit memories of the hand that Anthony is apparently sure of, by his comments, but that I am not entirely sure of. Still, I admit, he could have been right. To respond to this new information, I embellished a bit of the rest, and it's based partly on what I must have been thinking, rather than what I actually remember thinking. The basic point is still the same.

I didn't make it back to finish this on Tuesday, so I'll put the rest in a new post.