Round 1: I was wining at first. I had nice solid cards dealt to me. Then this one Asian guy--around the age of 40--sitting opposite me felt me (in poker, being felted means to be cleaned out) up so badly, ripped out most of my chip-stack, which was over $200. I was violated!
In hindsight, I placed him pretty badly, and I made a bad 'all in' call on a 2 pair board. If you don't know what that means, it just means that there were 2 pairs out of the 5 cards dealt in the center on a hold em table. And I called a raise to beat only a bluff.
So there you have it, I flopped a flush, raised, then ended up committed to the pot even after it paired 2 cards and called over $100 because of sentimentality. That was pure emotion for me, I'll admit that. I didn't want to be bluffed by this chump. But he caught a full house right at the end. Luck is a funny thing. Skill is another thing altogether.
In speaking to one of the other regular players there--a friendly old white guy, whom I've won money with on another table before--he said, "It's just one of those days..." And it was. A very cliche sort of phrase, as you might have observed.
Round 2: The same 40 year old chump called a $33 all in raise from my brother, and I was sitting on KK (that's two Kings in my hole cards) with no card higher on the board and went all in with $70+ more. The chump called and had the cards for calling too: one card off from a flush with 2 more cards to draw with. He did catch his flush.
I thought about how if I were to have just called and later raised on the turn, when there would only be one card to call for a diamond, and if he would have called $70 then. A few of us players were discussing that in retrospect. I still wonder about that; some other players said he would have called because he had hundreds in chips.
And so there it is, being outdrawn and felted by this man. Twice.
I didn't give up; I continued; persevered and went to play again after a smoke, in unbelievable denial, but if you played as much as I have before, you'd realise that it happens quite a bit.
I said to them, "I'm back, against my better judgment!"
Round 3: The 40 year old, still sitting on his hundreds... and I'm talking about at least $500, if not more. I started playing aggressive--sometimes you need to change your play with someone as loose as this asshole.
I call him an asshole because he was trying to rile me up by bluffing me and showing me his crap hands. "You cannot bluff me, I can bluff you!" the chump said. That amused me. I laughed, "How emotional" I said, as I laughed with another player agreeing in chuckling.
I felt his aggression; his attempt at belittling me; a provocation. I suppose he sees me as a threat because I seem to be getting my high stacks back again after just a few rounds: about $300-400. But only amateurs fall for that sort of rubbish.
"I'll show you," I thought, as I harnessed my Qi, "Just keep talking..."
This guy really thought he could outplay me. "Please try!" I thought to myself. That's the only way I can get his money in the pot. And he did. And it was when I had the hand to meet his raises.
What a pansy. I raised AQ and he called. I hit my top pair Queen on the flop, and he bet $25; I raised it to $75; he insta-called. Next card was an Ace--he bet $125; I insta-called. Insta-call means I instantly called his bet.
You should have seen his shocked face as I was pushing a high stack in immediately. Looking at that face, his thoughts were probably "Oh shit, What does he have?" That stunned stupor pasted all over his uncle face.
And since he was wondering, I showed him an Ace. Why? To see where I was in the game. See, if he saw the ace, how he reacted after--whether he would bet or check--would indicate what he had in his hand.
I expected him to just check it, but instead, he folded his hand. A surrendering "you beat me" out of his mouth. If he had a pair, he would at least check it, but instead he threw away his hand. Glory!
After that pot of over $400, the chump was on tilt. He continually started playing fiercely. Somehow or rather, I'm sure the other players were thankful that I shattered his run because he was so on tilt after that game with me.
Suffice it to say, he ceased trying to provoke me--highly likely to be ashamed and embarrassed.
It's cruel, but this is what I live for; the sadistic nature; the immense enjoyment I attain by putting people in their place; the fierce table aggression; the fight.
"Go back to Disneyland, you fucking amateur!"
I took back all of my money and more from him and his frustrated face. I cashed out $600 about an hour or so after I rejoined the game.
"Some days are just like that..."
In hindsight, I placed him pretty badly, and I made a bad 'all in' call on a 2 pair board. If you don't know what that means, it just means that there were 2 pairs out of the 5 cards dealt in the center on a hold em table. And I called a raise to beat only a bluff.
So there you have it, I flopped a flush, raised, then ended up committed to the pot even after it paired 2 cards and called over $100 because of sentimentality. That was pure emotion for me, I'll admit that. I didn't want to be bluffed by this chump. But he caught a full house right at the end. Luck is a funny thing. Skill is another thing altogether.
In speaking to one of the other regular players there--a friendly old white guy, whom I've won money with on another table before--he said, "It's just one of those days..." And it was. A very cliche sort of phrase, as you might have observed.
Round 2: The same 40 year old chump called a $33 all in raise from my brother, and I was sitting on KK (that's two Kings in my hole cards) with no card higher on the board and went all in with $70+ more. The chump called and had the cards for calling too: one card off from a flush with 2 more cards to draw with. He did catch his flush.
I thought about how if I were to have just called and later raised on the turn, when there would only be one card to call for a diamond, and if he would have called $70 then. A few of us players were discussing that in retrospect. I still wonder about that; some other players said he would have called because he had hundreds in chips.
And so there it is, being outdrawn and felted by this man. Twice.
I didn't give up; I continued; persevered and went to play again after a smoke, in unbelievable denial, but if you played as much as I have before, you'd realise that it happens quite a bit.
I said to them, "I'm back, against my better judgment!"
Round 3: The 40 year old, still sitting on his hundreds... and I'm talking about at least $500, if not more. I started playing aggressive--sometimes you need to change your play with someone as loose as this asshole.
I call him an asshole because he was trying to rile me up by bluffing me and showing me his crap hands. "You cannot bluff me, I can bluff you!" the chump said. That amused me. I laughed, "How emotional" I said, as I laughed with another player agreeing in chuckling.
I felt his aggression; his attempt at belittling me; a provocation. I suppose he sees me as a threat because I seem to be getting my high stacks back again after just a few rounds: about $300-400. But only amateurs fall for that sort of rubbish.
"I'll show you," I thought, as I harnessed my Qi, "Just keep talking..."
This guy really thought he could outplay me. "Please try!" I thought to myself. That's the only way I can get his money in the pot. And he did. And it was when I had the hand to meet his raises.
What a pansy. I raised AQ and he called. I hit my top pair Queen on the flop, and he bet $25; I raised it to $75; he insta-called. Next card was an Ace--he bet $125; I insta-called. Insta-call means I instantly called his bet.
You should have seen his shocked face as I was pushing a high stack in immediately. Looking at that face, his thoughts were probably "Oh shit, What does he have?" That stunned stupor pasted all over his uncle face.
And since he was wondering, I showed him an Ace. Why? To see where I was in the game. See, if he saw the ace, how he reacted after--whether he would bet or check--would indicate what he had in his hand.
I expected him to just check it, but instead, he folded his hand. A surrendering "you beat me" out of his mouth. If he had a pair, he would at least check it, but instead he threw away his hand. Glory!
After that pot of over $400, the chump was on tilt. He continually started playing fiercely. Somehow or rather, I'm sure the other players were thankful that I shattered his run because he was so on tilt after that game with me.
Suffice it to say, he ceased trying to provoke me--highly likely to be ashamed and embarrassed.
It's cruel, but this is what I live for; the sadistic nature; the immense enjoyment I attain by putting people in their place; the fierce table aggression; the fight.
"Go back to Disneyland, you fucking amateur!"
I took back all of my money and more from him and his frustrated face. I cashed out $600 about an hour or so after I rejoined the game.
"Some days are just like that..."
No comments:
Post a Comment