Saturday, December 05, 2009

One Missed Call

Terry Benedict: You think this is funny?
Danny Ocean: Well, Terry, it sure as shit ain't sad.
"Ocean's 13"
Since the last post I've had two very good sessions at the local casino. The first was just a solid night where there were far too many bad players at the table. I felt at ease enough to play any two cards and see what happened after that on the flop. When the overly aggressive fish tried to bluff all-in, I was there ready with a made hand. Sometimes, that made hand was only top pair, but that was good enough those times.

The best of it was that the fish had more buy ins to bring, and kept putting them on the table. I ended up well enough in front for my best night ever at this venue, and never felt uncomfortable. I also had some massive hands towards the end of the night where the river was very unkind, so it could have been much better still.

Then this past week, a bit of a hot run began for the night. First hand at a new table was pocket kings, which won a nice little pot on a continuation bet. From there, it was limp and hit, limp and hit. Overly aggressive players were prepared to shove with top pair, $160 into a $70 pot and the like, and I was only too happy to call with trips.

It wasn't great play, just hit flops and watched people bluff off their entire stacks. Within 2 hours, I was up about 3 buy ins without having to bluff once.

And it was a good table too. Nice and friendly, donkeys donating and having a laugh. Even the dealers joined in.

Of course, someone has to ruin it. A young guy sits down, and immediately he strikes me as being not too intelligent. He starts telling stories about fights he was in, scars his friends and brothers had. Total douchebag talk from start to finish. Then he even starts insulting the overly nice (and strong) player next to me. Absolutely unwarranted and unprovoked. I was pretty much ignoring him and looked forward to the inevitable chip shifting he would be doing.

On the big blind, I have 44, already well up on the night which is when I tend to get loose and start to call off chips I don't need to. There are a few limps perhaps, then the cut off makes it $12 ($2/$3 blinds). The irritating donkey on the button raises it to $15 with the worst "Oh my God I've got aces! I've got aces!" tells pouring out from his face. The dealer corrects him and makes him raise it to $21. With 44 against AA, I figure it would be stupid to call another $18 out of position and fold. A few others including the original raiser do call. He continues big talking himself - I can just about tell the suits of his aces now, the tells are that loud.

I'm sitting in the 9 seat, so the flop is partially obscured by the dealer when he lays it out. I see a 7, and then a red 4. Damn. I would have hit. The last flop card...the other red 4. Even though the irritating donkey is on the button, he announces all in for about $180 or so, way out of turn.

And I felt sick.

Not only would it has made one hell of a pot for me to drag in, it would have shut him up so good, and it would have been just the sweetest thing. Instead, he drags in a modest pot and thinks he is Doyle Brunson.

Eventually, chip by chip he gets rid of chips to every other player and I didn't see any of it. He annoyed the nice guy to my right enough to force him to move to another table. For the rest of the night, I win some minor pots but otherwise catch a case of the second-bests and give off 2/3 of the profits earned on the night. When I left I was still up a good amount, but couldn't help feeling like I let the biggest fish go free.