As the lucky worm turns...
I can’t even explain what’s going on right now. Seriously. I have no words for how ridiculously bad my luck has swung over the last two days. Let me just give you this example:
As I walked out of the casino for food earlier today, a man stood up from the table I was just passing, grabbed the chair, and collapsed to the floor. He was in the middle of what I can only assume was a massive heart attack, judging by his size, age, and the ashtray with about 30 butts in it sitting in front of the chair he had been occupying. And somehow, I wasn’t even mildly fazed by all of this, except to avoid the EMT’s with their latex gloves rushing past me. I know how callous that sounds, but I’m just completely out of rhythm right now. Nothing seems right...
For the record, I’ve played more poker over the past three days than any previous two-week stretch in my life. Three straight 18+ hour days (23 hours on Tuesday, 20 hours on Wednesday, 19 hours with a 3 hour break on Thursday), and before yesterday, I was actually ahead for the sessions.
Let’s recap...
Tuesday:
I started the day with an entry into a $40 NL (1 re-buy) tournament in the morning. Let me sum up the entire tourney like this: Hand #3, I had Pocket Queens (yes, those pocket queens) with a raise to me. I re-raised, got one call (the button). The flop hit Q-6-K. The guy who made the first raise pre-flop muttered “Shit – I folded pocket sixes”. I checked, the other player went all-in, and I called. She had KK. That was that.
After sitting at a $1-$2 NL table for about six hours, I left to get some food (having a McDonalds with a full “Dollar Menu” directly next to my hotel is probably the worst thing that could have happened to me this week). I returned to find that a $2-$5 NL game had opened up in the Harrah’s poker room. $2-$5 is a much better game – faster paced, better pots, everything about it is nicer. Plus, when some schmuck spends 5 minutes deciding whether or not he wants to call your bet, it’s usually over a little more money – like, say, an $80 bet rather than $8.
This particular table happened to be absolutely insane. Any pre-flop raise of less than $30 was almost guaranteed to get 4 or more callers. I had pocket kings twice and was obligated to raise $50 immediately just to weed out the A-x hands that kept chasing every flop.
Anyway, after a reasonable run, my luck turned against me, and I dropped a couple of hundred dollars. I made it back after a re-buy, and finished the day at just about even.
Wednesday:
Yeah. Here’s where it went bad.
I played in the $40 NL tourney again, finishing just out of the money at #12. At one point, I got AA back-to-back and only got action on the first hand. Way too much respect for me.
I opened a $1-$2 NL table at
Unfortunately, as is usually the case in no-limit hold-‘em, I made one mistake, and it absolutely killed me.
In the small blind, I had pocket deuces. Not a great hand, but certainly worth $1 to see a flop. Thing is, there was a raise to $10 and five callers before the action came back around to me.
Now, I know pot odds. I know that I was getting better than 5-1 on my $9 even before the Big Blind acted, and because I had a pair, if a deuce flopped I was golden. But for whatever reason (stupidity, mostly), I dumped the hand and sat back to watch.
The flop hit
The turn came down with the fourth deuce. I had the absolute nuts, and they were already in the muck. I mumbled to the dealer to take a look at my hand, which he did before shaking his head and looking at me like I was a total idiot. I, of course, already knew that I was a complete idiot. There was a $40 bet and a raise all-in for about $65, with a call from only one player. $276 in the pot.
The two players showed J-J and A-7 (A-7?!?!). The river was a blank, and I was out $276.
On the very next hand, I was the button. After I noticed a misdeal, we received new cards and I looked down to find.... QQ. Great.
I bet out $20 after a raise to $7 from the guy who had just won the last pot, a pot that should have gone to me. He never should have had a hand. Instead, he called.
The flop hit with 2 clubs and a 7 high (2c-4c-7d). He bet out $15, and I immediately put him on a club draw, probably with an Ace. I raised to $45. He thought it over, and finally pushed all-in for his remaining $241.
I said “call” before he finished saying “in”.
He simply hung his head and said “Nice call. I’m on a draw.” He flipped over Ac-5h (not even a club draw?!) and I showed my QQ, getting ready to scoop his $276 out of the pot. I was a 2-1 favorite.
The turn showed 7s, meaning that the only way he would take the pot was with a river ace for a better pair, or a river 3 for his gut-shot straight. I was about an 85%-15% favorite.
Well, they’re called “gut-shots” for a reason. Because, let me tell you, when you lose to one it feels like you’ve been squarely punched in the gut. His three hit the river and I came very close to unleashing a tirade the likes of which wouldn’t even be allowed on HBO (or, more appropriately, the likes of which you’ll probably see in October from Mike Matusow when ESPN airs Day One of the WSOP). Instead, I walked away from the table for almost 10 minutes, trying desperately to collect myself.
When I returned, he had already added another $150-ish to his stack. He went on a sick run with his newfound (and undeserved) wealth, before finally leaving to go to dinner. He cashed out $1300+ on his $100 buy-in.
There was only one other hand of note all night. A guy who was drunk continually pushed all-in under the gun before even getting his cards. I finally caught A-K suited on the button, and I had him covered. I called.
He didn’t turn over his cards right away, and the flop hit A-K-blank. He flipped up his cards: 10-10. Unreal. Anyway, the guy to my right said “Wow, I folded A-10 there. Great catch man.”
No, the great catch was the last 10 hitting the river and costing me another $300+.
He did the “blind all-in” thing about ten more times, doubling me up twice and assisting in quadrupling me up once (I got lucky and caught a straight with J-10. I was tilting just a little bit...)
I finally closed the table down at about
Thursday:
Really, I haven’t gotten over this yet. I have never seen such a horrible run of cards (or plays). Every hand I got was cracked. I never saw Kings. I never saw Aces. I only saw
The only hand that really broke me was 10-10. And it did it twice.
There was one guy at my late night table with about $800 in chips. When I sat down, the guy to my left warned me that he had been getting unbelievably lucky all night long. I had no idea.
Pre-flop, with 10-10, I raised to $12. I got 2 callers.
The flop hit 7d-7h-9d. I bet out $15, and on guy went all-in for about $40. The guy with the big chipstack called. I put him on A-9 or A-x flush draw, hoping for a suck-out. I re-raised all-in for about $90 more. He thought it over and finally called.
The turn brought the Jack of spades. The river brought the 7 of clubs.
“Well, I think I’ve got this one won fellas” he said, as he turned over his hand...
Q-7 off-suit.
The other guy just shook his head and flipped over 8-8. I showed my 10-10, and though fuming, I gave a patronizing “Nice hand. Great call pre-flop.”
I finally cracked out at about
So today is Friday (I think). I slept until
I fly home at
Quote of the Week
I have no choice but to award myself the quote of the week, because it’ll probably be the only time you’ll see me on ESPN.
After Phil Ivey scooped a rather large pot at my table, with roughly 17 cameras and 347 microphones capturing every second of the action...
Me: “Phil, say something man. They’re all waiting on you...”
Phil: (Nothing. Just a sheepish grin, and a bigger chipstack.)
OK, I’ll admit. That was a pretty lousy quote of the week. So let’s have a second one, shall we?
From a message that was left on my laptop via AIM last night (Yes, I removed the screen names for privacy’s sake). Words of encouragement from my buddy Tim:
Tim (
Auto response from Dave (
Tim (
Tim (
Tim (
Tim is away at
Dave (
Lata.
posted by Big D @ 7:22 PM
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