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DannyH
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So I bust out of the £5 beginner’s tournament early. It’s some comfort that it’s Alex that takes me out. He’s got the patience and the consistency for tournament play. Deep down I’m just itching to get in the cash game. Why else did I bring £170 to a £5 rebuy tournament?
Things had been a little tense on our table. After peacemaking with the old Indian guy on my earlier table dealt by beautiful Dee I had been bumped onto one of the cramped self dealt tables in the middle of the pit. Alex was sitting to my right. Across the way we turned up just in time for a classic performance. A very green looking guy, maybe early twenties is about to throw his hand in on his unraised big blind. Small blind to his left kindly informs him that he can check if he wishes. The action folds around to the small blind who calls slowly and demonstratively, as if to show the first few steps of walking to a baby. Our hero looks entirely nonplussed as it is explained to him in confusing detail by three different people that he can check or raise. Eventually he checks. There are always many old hands around to educate the few genuine beginners at beginner’s night.
The flop comes. The lag bets, our hero calls, out of politeness it seems, or confusion. The hand he was about to muck has now somehow become a calling hand. The turn leads to another bet and call, so too the river until our hero is all in with nothing and has to stand up and walk away without the first idea of what has happened to him.
Alex takes against this fellow and with good reason. I fear a fight is going to break out at one point when Alex goes into petulant mode as the big nosed apparent old hand attempts to patronize him whilst being wrong.
“Almost sounded like I knew what I was talking about.” Alex snapped. I try to lighten the mood with a chuckle. It doesn’t work. Later on though the same guy claims I am 50-50 to win a pot with a pair of 3s against AQ with 66J showing on the board.
“with him drawing at six outs?” I sneer incredulously.
“He’s drawing at the Jack as well.” Alex interposes. “But still.”
“Even so, 9 outs.” I say. “It’s nowhere near.”
The villain shrugs. Later I am in a pot with him all-in. I have QQ he has AK.
“Now it’s 50-50.” Almost everyone chimes in.
The flop comes an ace, the turn a king. I’m up out of my seat, but the first of my miracle queens turns up on the river. Justice is served.
“Just don’t get too attached to them.” Is the best he can do for a retort.
By this stage I was short stacked however and double of not much is precious little. Alex took me out a few hands later with KK against my 77. A desperation call from me.
“Don’t spend them all at once.” I joke to Alex, genuinely sanguine about being out for once, and go to get a drink. The other Alex is out too, doing his usual “aaargh” face accompanied by comedy strangulation mime. I buy vodka and oranges for us both. Its an appropriate drink for poker, sharp and sweet on the surface, indistinguishable from a soft drink on first impression but with a hard bitter kick waiting for you underneath.
He is pushing on an open door when he suggests I join him in the £50 pot limit hold ‘em cash game. I finish up my drink and smoke a fag while I wait for a few more people to join the table. I have no interested in playing short handed. Especially a touch short stacked as I am likely to be.
Initially I buy in for the minimum £50 but I soon see that there are small piles of black £25 chips at the bottom of three of the stacks on the table. With the blinds at £1/£2 I am going to need at least another fifty. I get them from Jon “granite” Iannou at the counter. His trademark cigar and Francis Rossi pony tail lending him an air of comical glamour.
With £100 in front of me I feel a little less exposed. I am able to follow through a pre-flop raise with a £20 bet after missing without batting an eyelid. There seem to be a few too many pre-flop callers who are then easy to bet off once the flop comes down. “Floptimists” as John Vorhaus calls them in his book length rant “Killer Poker.” I play few hands, but when I do I am usually the raiser pre and post flop and it seems to do the trick. Being patient this way takes me up to about £130 when the hand comes…
I’ve got QQ in the big blind. Its called in a couple of spots, one of which is the most aggressive player on the table who also has the most chips. I raise the pot from my big blind and only the aggressive guy, I’ll call him Harry, calls. Flop comes K K 4. Not a good flop for me but a paired board is some help to a pair in the hand. If he hasn’t hit a king I’m in front. I decide to bet £20. He thinks a while then calls. I only just have time to think that I have to put him on a king although maybe not too big a one when the second of my miracle queens comes down. I’m now behind only if he pairs the kicker to the king I’m now praying he has in his hand.
I check. He bets £20. I put a bit of a think in. By this stage I’m not sure if I’m sucking him in with the pause or whether I really do have to think about folding. I’ve re-raised this guy twice in previous hands and both times he’s laid his hand down. It seems likely I’ll get a call from a King. Could he have KQ for the higher full house? Somehow it just doesn’t smell like it. He looks a bit anxious. That flat call on the flop suggests he’s strong but he fears I might be stronger. I decide to put him on AK or king lower kicker. Even AK seems a bit good for the vibes I’m getting off him. I reraise £50.
He thinks a good long time. I’m too busy trying to prevent my heart from escaping my chest to give anything away. I try to feel scared rather than look it in the hope that natural looking fear will exude from my every pore. It is hard to keep up as every second he thinks makes my victory more likely. KQ is all in with no problem. KK the same. I only have £28 left which is bound to be going in so there’s no benefit in him giving me Hollywood. By the end of a minute I’m begging for a call. I get a raise. He re-raises me all in and I beat him into the pot. He turns over a King and says “If you’ve got Ace King you beat me.”
I just turn over the queens.
“Well done.” He nods.
Well done indeed. Best hand of my life so far. It beats that jack on the river against Alex because this one I played so much better. It beats the Omaha win in Dublin because that was against maniacs and it beats the time I took out four players on the final table of a tournament with 10 9 offsuit because that was just blind crazy luck.
I tip the dealer £5, which is way OTT but it was Jen and the dealer had had a big hand in it. Also there is some self interest in this. Remember the dealers and they are likely, firstly, to say hello to you which never hurts your image at the club. Secondly, with the sort of sharking and rule bending that goes on at these places it’s good to have the nominal referee on your side. Often the dealers will be a little passive in the face of the old lags but if you become something of a favourite then they may just be inclined to stick up for you a little more.
Very next hand I lost thirty quid drawing inside to 8 5 and sensibly decided my best poker might have been played already and made the one really good move of the night. I stood up.
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