Where you left your keys ...Rick's Cafe Americain

I showed up late because I wanted to check out Invite Them Up, a weekly Wednesday night show hosted by Eugene Mirman and Bobby Tisdale. It really is a great show. For $5 you get to see some of the best young comics working today. I hope to get booked into this show soon, but the comics they usually get are (a) friends of the hosts and (b) much more experienced than I am. Fingers crossed.

I made it to A.M. just before 11 and bought in late; I had missed two levels so I forfeited 225 of my initial 2000 in missed blinds. And then sat down in the big blind for another 100. I didn’t get cards worth playing for two full orbits - which didn’t stop me from limping in from the SB once ... and throwing away my cards as soon as the flop came down. I was soon down below 1300 without playing a single hand.

The room was freezing - the result of a door left wide open by the smokers - and I had made the ill-thought-out decision to wear a short-sleeved shirt. To the extent that shaking hands is a tell, I was giving out false signals all night. I was knocking over my stacks and fumbling with my bets because I couldn’t feel my fingers and wouldn’t admit to myself that I should just put my coat on indoors. Everyone was affected; the normal reactions just weren’t there. I don’t know if I can translate it to the page, but imagine an all-in hand where the shortstack moves in with AT and gets called by AK.

Now imagine a T on the flop. Then imagine a K on the river to bounce the shortstack.

Now imagine that each of these revelations is met by the table with the same shock/excitement/noise as if someone had announced “I like my pancakes with syrup.”

In any event, I got my stack from 1300 to 3500 by aggressive bets on flops and turns and, when the tournament went from two tables to one, I moved to the final table. asphnxma was already gone. What followed was a pathetic run of bad fortune interrupted by one good hand.

Every time I was in the big blind a short stack moved all-in. Every time it happened I was sitting on a shitty hand. Every time it happened the pot odds demanded that I call the small raise. Every time it happened, the shortstack’s hand held up, doubled up courtesy of yours truly. The only good luck I had at all was - in the middle of paying other people off - having my crabs hold up against AK when I pushed. Nobody pushed with other people in the big blind; somehow it was always my responsibility to make the call and—pot odds be damned—the cards didn’t come through for me once.

Eventually it caught up with me. As the blinds climbed higher and higher, I pushed in with ATs. Sporto, the big stack by a large margin, pushed to isolate with KQo. Strangely, Jed called with his medium stack and A8. The flop brought a king and I busted out in fifth place (and Jed left with me in fourth).

I stuck around to deal the longest head’s up match I’ve ever seen, with Sporto finally knocking out Tiger.

I’ll tell you this: Committed, shmomitted. Fuck pot odds. I’m dumping shitty big blinds next time. Why do I have to be the table cop?