Trip report 8/12-13/04
As promised, Mike and I went up on Thursday afternoon to play in the Empire State Poker Series $200+25 NLHE event on Friday. The fact that we even made it up there was just short of a miracle -- between my car breaking down on the day I was originally supposed to leave and Mike's travel plans changing, it looked like we'd never get up there. Fortunately for us, the Poker Gods intervened. My car turned out to be drivable and only need under $150 in repairs, and Mike found a cheap train ticket (on a train equipped with 120V outlets. Yes, he watched Rounders on his laptop). When the smoke cleared, I picked him up in Albany at a train station and we drove the two hours up I-90 to Turning Stone (or, as we fondly know it, "The Rock".)
For a little background, these Turning Stone trips became a nearly weekly event during the last school year. We always had a great time putting waitresses on tilt (me) and hitting on the dealers (Mike) -- but these antics reached a new level when we discovered the Tiltboys ( http://www.tiltboys.com ). Finally, some validation for our pursuits of poker and debauchery.
I’ll insert here that I destroyed Mike in the first Roshambo (‘rock, paper, scissors’) of the trip, 5 games to 2. He fell in love with his scissors, and that was that. As a result, I became the beneficiary of the first spot on the NL $100 list. Very important.
At this point, I'll explain a little bit of history before I launch into what was probably the best series of table tilts all night. Mike and I have both read David Sklansky's "Hold'em for Advanced Players" -- and if you've read it too, you'd notice that the cover depicts an 8-3 offsuit defeating an Ace-King of spades. What makes this even more interesting is that the cover of "Seven Card Stud for Advanced Players", by the same author, features a rolled-up 8-3-offsuit rivering a full house and defeating another hand featuring Ace-King of spades (maybe split kings with an ace? I forget). Either way, we marveled at Sklansky's love for 8-3, and decided that it must have some sort of miraculous staying power (like in the Chanukah story with the oil). We'd always joked about the hand and tried to win with it, but upon hearing of the Tiltboys' $5 reward for winning a hand with their hole cards of choice, Presto! (pocket fives), we decided to institute a similar competition between ourselves. Anyone winning a hand with an 8-3 (suited counts too... c'mon, we want to give ourselves at least an 0.14% chance here) gets $5 from the other -- as long as he shows the hand. Yes, this includes winning the hand without a showdown. At any rate -- we weren't sure if the opportunity would actually come up. It's hard to make people fold at 3/6, and it's even harder to take down a pot at showdown with 83o. With respect to the NL $100 game, it's easier to push people out, but much more risky when your preflop raise with 83o is bumped to $30 by someone holding a legitimate hand (even Presto dominates 83o =P).
Flash forward to about our third hour at the casino, when my request for a table change was finally honored and I was sitting beside Mike at a NL $100 table (I had position on him, of course). Mike raises it up to $7 after only the button limped for $2, and the button called the bet. (Two to the flop.) The flop comes K-8-K. Mike bets out for $15 into the $15 pot, the button folds, and Mike triumphantly displays his 83o to me and demands his $5. This, needless to say, put me on an even greater deal of tilt than before. I was on my second buy-in after my all-in with bottom two pair (OK, it was only about $30 at this point) was called by three players and one of them rivered a flush, and I'd been getting dealt 82o and 84o with amazing regularity. Still, I managed to bring out a chuckle for his victory with 83o. I knew my time would come.
/-------------------\
Mike: +$100
Dave: -$200 + tilt
83o hands won:
Mike: 1
Dave: 0 + tilt
\-------------------/
Dinner was relatively uneventful, except for the fact that we stole about 250 paper Keno cards for use in our upcoming Car Roulette game. (This game originated with Mike’s mix CD, which, when put on random, plays its two Avril Lavigne songs out of 90 with amazing regularity.) More on this next time.
Anywho, after dinner, we decide to play some "sweet, sweet 3/6" (named after a session last year where we both ended up about $250, and there were a few 7-way pots capped preflop. very loose.) Unfortunatly, there was a line on the board. We put down our names and the open 1-5 spread-limit stud table caught our eyes in the meantime. Mike sat first, and I joined the table a few minutes later.
Now, for those who haven't played 1-5 stud at Turning Stone, it's quite an experience. Imagine sitting at a poker table and not playing poker. The tables are mostly populated by apathetic old people, and there's no ante required to get your cards. This makes for a lot of pots that don't reach fourth street, and a lot of loose calls on 3rd that don't reach fifth street when someone pairs their door card or hits two to a straight. Every few minutes, someone hits trips and someone else is drawing to a flush -- but for the most part, it's a very relaxing game with few confrontations. At any rate, my favorite part was when I brought it in for $3 with (4h 7h) 5h and everybody folded. I literally won a $0 pot.
$0 pots are great, but I was pleased to hear our names called for $3/$6, and we left the geriatric ward behind at the stud table.
Mike will set the tone for 3/6:
So we sit at 3/6, and I pick up King-Jack of spades in early position. I raise it up to $6, and five players call my raise. One of the blinds re-raises and everyone calls, making it three bets to the flop with a seven-way pot. (yes, that’s $63 preflop at 3/6) The flop brings an ace and a queen, giving me a gutshot draw. I check it, knowing I’ll call one or two bets with the odds to draw - especially with a rainbow flop. It does end up being two bets to me, and I do call. Don’t worry - everyone is still in. (7 players and $105 to the turn). As the Poker Gods would have it, the turn comes the ten of the fourth suit. I have the nuts, as long as the board doesn’t pair on the river. I bet out, and get six callers. (Amazing!) Add another seven big bets to my pot, and it’s $147 to the river. A merciful seven comes on the river, giving me the nuts - Broadway! (yes, that means the royal straight). I bet out once again, this time only getting four callers, and when we flip over our cards, I proclaim, “I’ve got the nuts.” It takes the dealer three pushes of his arms to get all of the $1 and $5 chips in front of me, and I take $5 out of my $171 pot for rake and tip. Not a bad start. I guess this table is as loose as Dave’s mom, after all! [foreshadowing]
By now, I've won a few pots, I'm playing pretty well (no, I didn’t get involved in Mike’s little Broadway show a few minutes ago), and there's a very attractive girl in the 2-seat at our table. That being said, I'm in a much better mood than at NL... and it gets better when I look down at 83o from middle position. I'm up at the table, and I want nothing more than to get Mike back for his earlier 83 victory. I raise it up to 6 preflop.
Before I go any further, I'll remind you that we refer to the Turning Stone 3/6 game as Mike's mom (or my mom, depending on who's talking) -- very loose and aggressive.
Anyhow -- "Loose" is the word at this table, and my raise meeets little respect with three callers. The flop comes queen high, but I'm more interested in the low cards - a six and a five, two clubs. No eights or threes. We check around to Mike in the cutoff, who bets out for $3. One caller, and it's on to me, closing the betting. I call, with my runner-runner straight outs in the back of my mind and winning with 83 taking first and foremost importance. Three players to the turn. Fourth street is a four, giving me an open-ended straight draw. I choose to ignore the fact that I'm drawing to the ignorant end and check-raise Mike’s $6 bet, to which he folds. The button calls.
Heads-up with the button to the river, which brings a very interesting three. At this point, I have a decision to make. The player on the button will beat my hand if he holds one of the following: a two, a three (I assume he has a better kicker), a four, a five, a six, a seven, a higher pocket pair, or a king. Not good. I have bottom pair with an 8 kicker. However, I did note the dejected look on his face when the three fell, and realize that he might have been drawing clubs and missed, or might lay down his hand to my bet (raised preflop, came to life with the 4 on the turn.. maybe he'll have me on 77?). I bet out for $6 -- I'd already sacrificed my poker instincts a couple of times for this 83o, and I'm sure as hell not giving up now. Late position player reluctantly calls, and I know I'm beat until he flashes the A-9 of clubs. "Ace high," he proclaims. I can hardly contain my laughter as I table my eight-three-offsuit, for the winning hand with a pair of threes. The dealer pushes me the $80 pot, and I give Mike an evil grin. "Pay up." $85 pot, now. The hot girl in seat 2 gives me the same look as the entire rest of the table -- "what the fuck were you thinking? This isn't 1/3... you can't raise preflop with 83o and expect to win." I just smile, but I think she understands when she sees Mike flip me the $5 chip and I say that it's "our hand". I don't care what the rest of the table thinks. (well, except that I know it probably bought me $60 in loose calls for the rest of the night.)
From Mike’s eyes, the hand went like this:
I’m sitting in the cutoff position (9th seat right in front of the button) and look down at a QT of spades. Not a spectacular hand but based on the looseness of the game it was definitely a playable hand in late position. One limper called the blind bet and Dave sitting two seats to my right raises and makes it six to go. The player to my left is extremely loose passive and will call any bet or raise until the river so I’m fairly certain he will call and that at least one of the blinds will call and the limper will call giving me the necessary multiway pot to play my hand so I call the raise. Just as I suspected we got 3 more callers and had a 5 way 2 bet hand. The flop came queen high and two rags which were clubs giving me top pair. The action is checked to me on the flop and I decide my hand is probably best and I bet out. The extremely loose passive button calls and Dave calls. The turn brings another rag that is not a club so there are still no possible straights or flushes on board. Dave checks and I decide to bet, of course the button calls and then all of a sudden Dave puts in a check raise. I think for a short while and eventually put Dave on either a better queen kicker than my ten, or a set. I decide to fold, of course the button calls. The river brings a jack that isn’t a club and Dave bets out, the button calls and Dave shows his 83 offsuit for a pair of threes. The button shows A9 of clubs for and Ace high with a missed club draw. This puts me on super tilt as not only did I fold the winning hand to Dave’s bluff, but I also had to give Dave his 5 dollar 83 bonus. Nice play Dave…You Motherfucker.
/------------\
83o hands won:
Mike: 1 + major tilt
Dave: 1
\------------/
Aaaannnd.. we're even, 83 wise. :) Oddly enough, seeing the debacle with the 83 seemed to make seat-2-girl warm up to us, and we spent the rest of the night chatting between hands. She commented on my grumpy-faced card protector (#2!). However, the emotional roller-coaster of 3/6 had more in store for Mike, as he explains:
While 3/6 has many upsides, the one downside is the likelihood that someone will beat your big pairs by drawing out on you. For instance, UTG limps in and I look down at KK from 4th position. I make it $6 to go, and of course, get three cold callers. UTG-man closes the betting with a call. On to the flop: rag, rag, rag. Two hearts. UTG checks (I wonder why? Maybe we’ll see later…), and I bet for $3, knowing full well that I need to get people out of this pot. Nope. They all call, and I know I’ll need to be lucky to win this hand. A jack hits the board on the turn, (still no flush possible, and no straight possibilities) and I bet out again. This time, only three of the draw-happy fish call my bet, and it’s another decent pot - $69 and four players to the river, which comes a cursed offsuit nine. UTG checks, and I bet out yet again. Folds around to UTG, who check-raises (??). I know I’m beaten, but I make a crying call and watch as UTG idiot flips his 94 offsuit for a two pair on the river. Kings were not my hand this trip - there’s always some idiot with a four in his hand waiting to draw out on me. [foreshadowing]
Still, we both left in the black at the table (me, $100, Mike, $200 with his “soldiers of red chips” guarding his “tower of whites”.. you had to be there..) when we cashed out and left for the hotel.
/------------\
Mike: +$280
Dave: -$100
83o hands won:
Mike: 1
Dave: 1
\------------/
Sleep.
Friday morning brought the second and last roshambo of the trip, as I won the privledge to force Mike to take the first shower. The morning was uneventful and we checked out of the hotel up an extra $5 each, as they provided us with free bagels and juice for breakfast. We returned to The Rock by 9:00, to play some more 3/6 and register for the tournament.
Unfortunately, they had three games running at the time, none of which were 3/6, so I played a few 1-5 stud hands before they opened our table. Sure enough, a few minutes later, they did a roll call and we were seated at a 3/6 table that was tighter than . It’s OK, for that was soon to change. Five hands in, I was playing my usual game of stealing small pots at tight 3/6 tables and picked up 83 offsuit. *evil grin* Of course, I raised it up. A few callers to the flop, which came featuring two threes and a seven. I was so happy about getting smacked in the face with the deck that I didn’t even check-raise or slowplay, and I picked up the pot right there. Oh well. I showed the entire table my winning hand (with which I had indeed raised preflop), and Mike paid me his $5.
/------------\
83o hands won:
Mike: 1
Dave: 2
\------------/
The VERY NEXT HAND, Mike picks up an 83o from middle position, and raises it up to $6. (Standard practice, these days.)
As Mike says:
The big blind calls, and the flop didn’t help me at all. When he checked, I of course had to put in a bet, and he called. (I put him on no pair, and a mediocre draw of some kind.) So, when the turn came an offsuit Jack, I bluffed the Jack and bet $6 after his check. He thought for about 30 seconds, pretending to muck and pretending to call to try to elicit a response from me, but I STAYED STONE-FACED! and he mucked it. I showed my 83 for all to see! I made my $5 off of Dave, and probably more than $90 in loose calls. (Do I even have to say it? The table became as loose as Dave’s mom.)
/------------\
83o hands won:
Mike: 2
Dave: 2
\------------/
Remember the 7-way pots capped preflop that I mentioned earlier? After our 83o-fest, they were back with a vengeance. Particularly noticeable was the fact that the two older gentlemen sitting beside us would remark on the nature of my hole cards every time I put in a raise (and, yes, they predicted 83o every single time).
I was the beneficiary of one such loose pot, as I cracked Mike's QQ with a TT that hit a flush on the turn. Yes, it was capped preflop -- and if there weren't 7 players, there were six. The best part of the whole thing was that his set of queens came on the turn, but the queen of hearts made me the flush. Sweet, sweet 3/6.
High pocket pairs were all the rage today, as Mike picked up KK two times at that table before lunch. However, never did they hold strong, as Mike recounts:
I was under the gun (yes, under the gun), and made it $6 to go with black kings. Dave, sitting immediately to my left, cold calls my bet, and only one other caller came along for the ride. The flop came jack high, with two spades. I bet out, Dave called, and the late position caller folded. Heads-up to the turn, which came a low spade, making a flush possible. I bet out, with my king of spades and overpair, and Dave raised. All I was thinking to myself was, “that son of a bitch made his flush, and I’m going to draw out on him with that fourth spade,” and I called his raise. The river doesn’t prove helpful, and Dave mercifully checks his nut flush. He flips A4 suited, which he cold called my UTG raise with. Dave, once again, you motherfucker.
(Yes, I am a mother fucker, but only with Mrs. Falk.) I explained for the next couple of hands that my rationale was the loose-pot syndrome that we had seen in the previous few hands, but we both admitted that it was a loose call and that I shouldn’t have his money. Either way, I did. < :- )
Still, I didn’t value bet the river. That’s a good man right there.
Mike: Douchebag.
Kings proved unfaithful for Mike yet again, when they were shot down by pocket aces at the same 3/6 table. At least it wasn’t NL.
Before we knew it, 12:00 had come and it was time for our tournament to start. We made our $5 last-longer bet, Mike disappeared to do G-d knows what, and I said hello to 3/6 girl from the night before and went up to the tournament room (where Mike already had been sitting. I guess he didn’t go too far.) Mike didn’t fare too well, as his two pair expired to a set early on in the tournament. He went down to play $100 NL, doubling up his $70 to a nice, even $150.
In the meantime, I was sitting on the chip lead at my table with somewhere around T3900 (starting chip count was T2000). I picked up red tens in early position, and made it T450 to go, 3x the big blind.
Middle position man made it T2000 to go, putting himself all-in. He had been making these raises with relative frequency, and I had a feeling I knew what he had - a low pocket pair, or more likely, a weak ace. I decided that my read was correct, and called when the folds came around. Sure enough, he flipped A9o, but the board showed 342K5 and my tens were no good. Ouch. (What an angle.) I busted out a few hands later when my JJ was all-in preflop against KK (yes, that’s why they call them “tournament hooks.”) $225 down the drain.
/------------\
Mike: +$ 45
Dave: -$200
\------------/
(During the tournament I met Max, a 19-year-old from my table who busted out just before I did. He was significant because he was our age yet playing $30/$60 and staking people for $15/$30 and the tournament. That’s a lot of money.)
With the tournament done for the both of us, I came downstairs to sit at some more NL or 3/6. I saw Mike just before he mucked his winning hand on the river, as he’ll explain:
*sigh* I look down at King-Jack of diamonds, and decide to limp in preflop. The flop comes with three rags, and it’s checked around with three-way action. The turn comes a Jack, at which point I bet out for $15 and the player to my left raises to $30. The third player folds, and I call. The river is a six, pairing the board. I check, the raiser bets $20, and I call. He shows me his J4 for two pair, Jacks and fours.. or so I think. As I drop my cards in the muck, I realize that the pair on board makes my hand two pair as well, but my king kicker would have played as there is no ace on the board. Major fucking tilt.
(By the way... I had to wait about an hour for a seat at any table. The lines on the boards were insane. At one point the board man almost hyperventilated, and someone wearing a black suit told everyone to step away from the board. Intense.)
I grabbed a seat at 3/6, but left soon after when my name was called for no limit, up about $50. I went on a nice run, tripling my $100 buy-in to $303. Highlights were someone pushing-in in front of me when I held top set (kings) on a rainbow board, and my all-in on a jack-high board that was called by someone who I presume held ace-jack.
That wasn’t the funny part of the table, though. As I stretched out my legs from the 5-seat (across from the dealer), the following interaction took place:
Me: aaahhhhh. *stretching*
Dealer: Excuse me, sir, but your foot is about three inches from my penis.
Me: *backs away* Oh... uh... I’m sorry...
Dealer: It’s true. I don’t mean to be blunt, but when I get a chance to say the word “penis”, I take it.
Me: OK. *weirded-out tilt*
Don’t forget about this one, either:
Me from BB: Min-raise. Make it $4 to go.
Same dealer: That was the WORST raise I’ve EVER seen.
Me: Uh... why?
Dealer: We don’t want the house making too much money. Your raise forced me to rake the pot.
Me: OK. *doubly-weirded-out tilt*
Anyway, I still tipped the guy on the pots I won, and I left the $100 table with $303. Not too bad.
/------------\
Mike: +$ 60
Dave: even!
\------------/
We were about to close out the trip with a final dinner at Emerald's, but the line was as long as I've ever seen it, at a good 45 minutes to an hour. It's all for the better -- Mike would have dropped another $3 at Keno and we probably would have run into our favorite waitress from trips past.
All in all -- a great trip. We'll be back in four days.
Final tallies:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
83o victories:
--------------
Dave: 2
Mike: 2
Emerald clubs ordered:
----------------------
Dave: 1 (rye)
Mike: 1 (white toast)
Keno slips stolen for CD roulette:
----------------------------------
Approximately 250
Money lost on Keno:
-------------------
Dave: $0
Mike: $3
Bankroll: (including hotel room and tourney buy-in)
----------------------------------------------------
Dave $ 0 (approx.)
Mike $ +60 (approx.)
For a little background, these Turning Stone trips became a nearly weekly event during the last school year. We always had a great time putting waitresses on tilt (me) and hitting on the dealers (Mike) -- but these antics reached a new level when we discovered the Tiltboys ( http://www.tiltboys.com ). Finally, some validation for our pursuits of poker and debauchery.
I’ll insert here that I destroyed Mike in the first Roshambo (‘rock, paper, scissors’) of the trip, 5 games to 2. He fell in love with his scissors, and that was that. As a result, I became the beneficiary of the first spot on the NL $100 list. Very important.
At this point, I'll explain a little bit of history before I launch into what was probably the best series of table tilts all night. Mike and I have both read David Sklansky's "Hold'em for Advanced Players" -- and if you've read it too, you'd notice that the cover depicts an 8-3 offsuit defeating an Ace-King of spades. What makes this even more interesting is that the cover of "Seven Card Stud for Advanced Players", by the same author, features a rolled-up 8-3-offsuit rivering a full house and defeating another hand featuring Ace-King of spades (maybe split kings with an ace? I forget). Either way, we marveled at Sklansky's love for 8-3, and decided that it must have some sort of miraculous staying power (like in the Chanukah story with the oil). We'd always joked about the hand and tried to win with it, but upon hearing of the Tiltboys' $5 reward for winning a hand with their hole cards of choice, Presto! (pocket fives), we decided to institute a similar competition between ourselves. Anyone winning a hand with an 8-3 (suited counts too... c'mon, we want to give ourselves at least an 0.14% chance here) gets $5 from the other -- as long as he shows the hand. Yes, this includes winning the hand without a showdown. At any rate -- we weren't sure if the opportunity would actually come up. It's hard to make people fold at 3/6, and it's even harder to take down a pot at showdown with 83o. With respect to the NL $100 game, it's easier to push people out, but much more risky when your preflop raise with 83o is bumped to $30 by someone holding a legitimate hand (even Presto dominates 83o =P).
Flash forward to about our third hour at the casino, when my request for a table change was finally honored and I was sitting beside Mike at a NL $100 table (I had position on him, of course). Mike raises it up to $7 after only the button limped for $2, and the button called the bet. (Two to the flop.) The flop comes K-8-K. Mike bets out for $15 into the $15 pot, the button folds, and Mike triumphantly displays his 83o to me and demands his $5. This, needless to say, put me on an even greater deal of tilt than before. I was on my second buy-in after my all-in with bottom two pair (OK, it was only about $30 at this point) was called by three players and one of them rivered a flush, and I'd been getting dealt 82o and 84o with amazing regularity. Still, I managed to bring out a chuckle for his victory with 83o. I knew my time would come.
/-------------------\
Mike: +$100
Dave: -$200 + tilt
83o hands won:
Mike: 1
Dave: 0 + tilt
\-------------------/
Dinner was relatively uneventful, except for the fact that we stole about 250 paper Keno cards for use in our upcoming Car Roulette game. (This game originated with Mike’s mix CD, which, when put on random, plays its two Avril Lavigne songs out of 90 with amazing regularity.) More on this next time.
Anywho, after dinner, we decide to play some "sweet, sweet 3/6" (named after a session last year where we both ended up about $250, and there were a few 7-way pots capped preflop. very loose.) Unfortunatly, there was a line on the board. We put down our names and the open 1-5 spread-limit stud table caught our eyes in the meantime. Mike sat first, and I joined the table a few minutes later.
Now, for those who haven't played 1-5 stud at Turning Stone, it's quite an experience. Imagine sitting at a poker table and not playing poker. The tables are mostly populated by apathetic old people, and there's no ante required to get your cards. This makes for a lot of pots that don't reach fourth street, and a lot of loose calls on 3rd that don't reach fifth street when someone pairs their door card or hits two to a straight. Every few minutes, someone hits trips and someone else is drawing to a flush -- but for the most part, it's a very relaxing game with few confrontations. At any rate, my favorite part was when I brought it in for $3 with (4h 7h) 5h and everybody folded. I literally won a $0 pot.
$0 pots are great, but I was pleased to hear our names called for $3/$6, and we left the geriatric ward behind at the stud table.
Mike will set the tone for 3/6:
So we sit at 3/6, and I pick up King-Jack of spades in early position. I raise it up to $6, and five players call my raise. One of the blinds re-raises and everyone calls, making it three bets to the flop with a seven-way pot. (yes, that’s $63 preflop at 3/6) The flop brings an ace and a queen, giving me a gutshot draw. I check it, knowing I’ll call one or two bets with the odds to draw - especially with a rainbow flop. It does end up being two bets to me, and I do call. Don’t worry - everyone is still in. (7 players and $105 to the turn). As the Poker Gods would have it, the turn comes the ten of the fourth suit. I have the nuts, as long as the board doesn’t pair on the river. I bet out, and get six callers. (Amazing!) Add another seven big bets to my pot, and it’s $147 to the river. A merciful seven comes on the river, giving me the nuts - Broadway! (yes, that means the royal straight). I bet out once again, this time only getting four callers, and when we flip over our cards, I proclaim, “I’ve got the nuts.” It takes the dealer three pushes of his arms to get all of the $1 and $5 chips in front of me, and I take $5 out of my $171 pot for rake and tip. Not a bad start. I guess this table is as loose as Dave’s mom, after all! [foreshadowing]
By now, I've won a few pots, I'm playing pretty well (no, I didn’t get involved in Mike’s little Broadway show a few minutes ago), and there's a very attractive girl in the 2-seat at our table. That being said, I'm in a much better mood than at NL... and it gets better when I look down at 83o from middle position. I'm up at the table, and I want nothing more than to get Mike back for his earlier 83 victory. I raise it up to 6 preflop.
Before I go any further, I'll remind you that we refer to the Turning Stone 3/6 game as Mike's mom (or my mom, depending on who's talking) -- very loose and aggressive.
Anyhow -- "Loose" is the word at this table, and my raise meeets little respect with three callers. The flop comes queen high, but I'm more interested in the low cards - a six and a five, two clubs. No eights or threes. We check around to Mike in the cutoff, who bets out for $3. One caller, and it's on to me, closing the betting. I call, with my runner-runner straight outs in the back of my mind and winning with 83 taking first and foremost importance. Three players to the turn. Fourth street is a four, giving me an open-ended straight draw. I choose to ignore the fact that I'm drawing to the ignorant end and check-raise Mike’s $6 bet, to which he folds. The button calls.
Heads-up with the button to the river, which brings a very interesting three. At this point, I have a decision to make. The player on the button will beat my hand if he holds one of the following: a two, a three (I assume he has a better kicker), a four, a five, a six, a seven, a higher pocket pair, or a king. Not good. I have bottom pair with an 8 kicker. However, I did note the dejected look on his face when the three fell, and realize that he might have been drawing clubs and missed, or might lay down his hand to my bet (raised preflop, came to life with the 4 on the turn.. maybe he'll have me on 77?). I bet out for $6 -- I'd already sacrificed my poker instincts a couple of times for this 83o, and I'm sure as hell not giving up now. Late position player reluctantly calls, and I know I'm beat until he flashes the A-9 of clubs. "Ace high," he proclaims. I can hardly contain my laughter as I table my eight-three-offsuit, for the winning hand with a pair of threes. The dealer pushes me the $80 pot, and I give Mike an evil grin. "Pay up." $85 pot, now. The hot girl in seat 2 gives me the same look as the entire rest of the table -- "what the fuck were you thinking? This isn't 1/3... you can't raise preflop with 83o and expect to win." I just smile, but I think she understands when she sees Mike flip me the $5 chip and I say that it's "our hand". I don't care what the rest of the table thinks. (well, except that I know it probably bought me $60 in loose calls for the rest of the night.)
From Mike’s eyes, the hand went like this:
I’m sitting in the cutoff position (9th seat right in front of the button) and look down at a QT of spades. Not a spectacular hand but based on the looseness of the game it was definitely a playable hand in late position. One limper called the blind bet and Dave sitting two seats to my right raises and makes it six to go. The player to my left is extremely loose passive and will call any bet or raise until the river so I’m fairly certain he will call and that at least one of the blinds will call and the limper will call giving me the necessary multiway pot to play my hand so I call the raise. Just as I suspected we got 3 more callers and had a 5 way 2 bet hand. The flop came queen high and two rags which were clubs giving me top pair. The action is checked to me on the flop and I decide my hand is probably best and I bet out. The extremely loose passive button calls and Dave calls. The turn brings another rag that is not a club so there are still no possible straights or flushes on board. Dave checks and I decide to bet, of course the button calls and then all of a sudden Dave puts in a check raise. I think for a short while and eventually put Dave on either a better queen kicker than my ten, or a set. I decide to fold, of course the button calls. The river brings a jack that isn’t a club and Dave bets out, the button calls and Dave shows his 83 offsuit for a pair of threes. The button shows A9 of clubs for and Ace high with a missed club draw. This puts me on super tilt as not only did I fold the winning hand to Dave’s bluff, but I also had to give Dave his 5 dollar 83 bonus. Nice play Dave…You Motherfucker.
/------------\
83o hands won:
Mike: 1 + major tilt
Dave: 1
\------------/
Aaaannnd.. we're even, 83 wise. :) Oddly enough, seeing the debacle with the 83 seemed to make seat-2-girl warm up to us, and we spent the rest of the night chatting between hands. She commented on my grumpy-faced card protector (#2!). However, the emotional roller-coaster of 3/6 had more in store for Mike, as he explains:
While 3/6 has many upsides, the one downside is the likelihood that someone will beat your big pairs by drawing out on you. For instance, UTG limps in and I look down at KK from 4th position. I make it $6 to go, and of course, get three cold callers. UTG-man closes the betting with a call. On to the flop: rag, rag, rag. Two hearts. UTG checks (I wonder why? Maybe we’ll see later…), and I bet for $3, knowing full well that I need to get people out of this pot. Nope. They all call, and I know I’ll need to be lucky to win this hand. A jack hits the board on the turn, (still no flush possible, and no straight possibilities) and I bet out again. This time, only three of the draw-happy fish call my bet, and it’s another decent pot - $69 and four players to the river, which comes a cursed offsuit nine. UTG checks, and I bet out yet again. Folds around to UTG, who check-raises (??). I know I’m beaten, but I make a crying call and watch as UTG idiot flips his 94 offsuit for a two pair on the river. Kings were not my hand this trip - there’s always some idiot with a four in his hand waiting to draw out on me. [foreshadowing]
Still, we both left in the black at the table (me, $100, Mike, $200 with his “soldiers of red chips” guarding his “tower of whites”.. you had to be there..) when we cashed out and left for the hotel.
/------------\
Mike: +$280
Dave: -$100
83o hands won:
Mike: 1
Dave: 1
\------------/
Sleep.
Friday morning brought the second and last roshambo of the trip, as I won the privledge to force Mike to take the first shower. The morning was uneventful and we checked out of the hotel up an extra $5 each, as they provided us with free bagels and juice for breakfast. We returned to The Rock by 9:00, to play some more 3/6 and register for the tournament.
Unfortunately, they had three games running at the time, none of which were 3/6, so I played a few 1-5 stud hands before they opened our table. Sure enough, a few minutes later, they did a roll call and we were seated at a 3/6 table that was tighter than . It’s OK, for that was soon to change. Five hands in, I was playing my usual game of stealing small pots at tight 3/6 tables and picked up 83 offsuit. *evil grin* Of course, I raised it up. A few callers to the flop, which came featuring two threes and a seven. I was so happy about getting smacked in the face with the deck that I didn’t even check-raise or slowplay, and I picked up the pot right there. Oh well. I showed the entire table my winning hand (with which I had indeed raised preflop), and Mike paid me his $5.
/------------\
83o hands won:
Mike: 1
Dave: 2
\------------/
The VERY NEXT HAND, Mike picks up an 83o from middle position, and raises it up to $6. (Standard practice, these days.)
As Mike says:
The big blind calls, and the flop didn’t help me at all. When he checked, I of course had to put in a bet, and he called. (I put him on no pair, and a mediocre draw of some kind.) So, when the turn came an offsuit Jack, I bluffed the Jack and bet $6 after his check. He thought for about 30 seconds, pretending to muck and pretending to call to try to elicit a response from me, but I STAYED STONE-FACED! and he mucked it. I showed my 83 for all to see! I made my $5 off of Dave, and probably more than $90 in loose calls. (Do I even have to say it? The table became as loose as Dave’s mom.)
/------------\
83o hands won:
Mike: 2
Dave: 2
\------------/
Remember the 7-way pots capped preflop that I mentioned earlier? After our 83o-fest, they were back with a vengeance. Particularly noticeable was the fact that the two older gentlemen sitting beside us would remark on the nature of my hole cards every time I put in a raise (and, yes, they predicted 83o every single time).
I was the beneficiary of one such loose pot, as I cracked Mike's QQ with a TT that hit a flush on the turn. Yes, it was capped preflop -- and if there weren't 7 players, there were six. The best part of the whole thing was that his set of queens came on the turn, but the queen of hearts made me the flush. Sweet, sweet 3/6.
High pocket pairs were all the rage today, as Mike picked up KK two times at that table before lunch. However, never did they hold strong, as Mike recounts:
I was under the gun (yes, under the gun), and made it $6 to go with black kings. Dave, sitting immediately to my left, cold calls my bet, and only one other caller came along for the ride. The flop came jack high, with two spades. I bet out, Dave called, and the late position caller folded. Heads-up to the turn, which came a low spade, making a flush possible. I bet out, with my king of spades and overpair, and Dave raised. All I was thinking to myself was, “that son of a bitch made his flush, and I’m going to draw out on him with that fourth spade,” and I called his raise. The river doesn’t prove helpful, and Dave mercifully checks his nut flush. He flips A4 suited, which he cold called my UTG raise with. Dave, once again, you motherfucker.
(Yes, I am a mother fucker, but only with Mrs. Falk.) I explained for the next couple of hands that my rationale was the loose-pot syndrome that we had seen in the previous few hands, but we both admitted that it was a loose call and that I shouldn’t have his money. Either way, I did. < :- )
Still, I didn’t value bet the river. That’s a good man right there.
Mike: Douchebag.
Kings proved unfaithful for Mike yet again, when they were shot down by pocket aces at the same 3/6 table. At least it wasn’t NL.
Before we knew it, 12:00 had come and it was time for our tournament to start. We made our $5 last-longer bet, Mike disappeared to do G-d knows what, and I said hello to 3/6 girl from the night before and went up to the tournament room (where Mike already had been sitting. I guess he didn’t go too far.) Mike didn’t fare too well, as his two pair expired to a set early on in the tournament. He went down to play $100 NL, doubling up his $70 to a nice, even $150.
In the meantime, I was sitting on the chip lead at my table with somewhere around T3900 (starting chip count was T2000). I picked up red tens in early position, and made it T450 to go, 3x the big blind.
Middle position man made it T2000 to go, putting himself all-in. He had been making these raises with relative frequency, and I had a feeling I knew what he had - a low pocket pair, or more likely, a weak ace. I decided that my read was correct, and called when the folds came around. Sure enough, he flipped A9o, but the board showed 342K5 and my tens were no good. Ouch. (What an angle.) I busted out a few hands later when my JJ was all-in preflop against KK (yes, that’s why they call them “tournament hooks.”) $225 down the drain.
/------------\
Mike: +$ 45
Dave: -$200
\------------/
(During the tournament I met Max, a 19-year-old from my table who busted out just before I did. He was significant because he was our age yet playing $30/$60 and staking people for $15/$30 and the tournament. That’s a lot of money.)
With the tournament done for the both of us, I came downstairs to sit at some more NL or 3/6. I saw Mike just before he mucked his winning hand on the river, as he’ll explain:
*sigh* I look down at King-Jack of diamonds, and decide to limp in preflop. The flop comes with three rags, and it’s checked around with three-way action. The turn comes a Jack, at which point I bet out for $15 and the player to my left raises to $30. The third player folds, and I call. The river is a six, pairing the board. I check, the raiser bets $20, and I call. He shows me his J4 for two pair, Jacks and fours.. or so I think. As I drop my cards in the muck, I realize that the pair on board makes my hand two pair as well, but my king kicker would have played as there is no ace on the board. Major fucking tilt.
(By the way... I had to wait about an hour for a seat at any table. The lines on the boards were insane. At one point the board man almost hyperventilated, and someone wearing a black suit told everyone to step away from the board. Intense.)
I grabbed a seat at 3/6, but left soon after when my name was called for no limit, up about $50. I went on a nice run, tripling my $100 buy-in to $303. Highlights were someone pushing-in in front of me when I held top set (kings) on a rainbow board, and my all-in on a jack-high board that was called by someone who I presume held ace-jack.
That wasn’t the funny part of the table, though. As I stretched out my legs from the 5-seat (across from the dealer), the following interaction took place:
Me: aaahhhhh. *stretching*
Dealer: Excuse me, sir, but your foot is about three inches from my penis.
Me: *backs away* Oh... uh... I’m sorry...
Dealer: It’s true. I don’t mean to be blunt, but when I get a chance to say the word “penis”, I take it.
Me: OK. *weirded-out tilt*
Don’t forget about this one, either:
Me from BB: Min-raise. Make it $4 to go.
Same dealer: That was the WORST raise I’ve EVER seen.
Me: Uh... why?
Dealer: We don’t want the house making too much money. Your raise forced me to rake the pot.
Me: OK. *doubly-weirded-out tilt*
Anyway, I still tipped the guy on the pots I won, and I left the $100 table with $303. Not too bad.
/------------\
Mike: +$ 60
Dave: even!
\------------/
We were about to close out the trip with a final dinner at Emerald's, but the line was as long as I've ever seen it, at a good 45 minutes to an hour. It's all for the better -- Mike would have dropped another $3 at Keno and we probably would have run into our favorite waitress from trips past.
All in all -- a great trip. We'll be back in four days.
Final tallies:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
83o victories:
--------------
Dave: 2
Mike: 2
Emerald clubs ordered:
----------------------
Dave: 1 (rye)
Mike: 1 (white toast)
Keno slips stolen for CD roulette:
----------------------------------
Approximately 250
Money lost on Keno:
-------------------
Dave: $0
Mike: $3
Bankroll: (including hotel room and tourney buy-in)
----------------------------------------------------
Dave $ 0 (approx.)
Mike $ +60 (approx.)