Where peace is not a pie ...Rick's Cafe Americain

Instead of starting with the lessons learned, I’d like to start with the hand that I will never get again, and I didn’t play it when I had the chance.  In the big blind with J♥-5x, I was able to check to the flop.  The flop came Q♥-K♥-x.  With a bet and two calls after I checked, I grudgingly decided that I had to lay down my cards.  I wistfully thought about the draw for a flush, but what were the chances ...  T♥ on the turn.  Ha ha! Very funny, poker gods!  You got me!  Maybe I should have stayed in after all! No, I’m just jok ... A♥ on the river.  And so there it is: my phantom royal flush.  I know in my head that I played it right (at least two of the players had better pairs than me after the flop), but I will always look back and wonder what might have been ...

Of course, all that might have been was a 5th place finish.  It was early in the game and there wasn’t a lot of money in the pot.  It is hard not to romanticize a Royal Flush though.  (I’ve only had one natural Royal before. In a freeroll, the board was A♠-J♠-Q♠-T♠-K♠.  Damndest thing I’ve ever seen.)

Back to table image.  The first hand was perfect. I was dealt 88 on the button and played it into an early win. Half the table limped around to me and I raised preflop to knock the hand down to three players.  The board was all rags and while nobody was betting, all three were calling.  I knew my snowmen would stand up, and they did.  My next few preflop raises didn’t go as well.

A quick review of my stats said that I won 5 of 6 showdowns. You would think that meant that players would start to respect my raises, but you would be wrong.  I waited for good starting hands - JJ or QQ or KQ♣ - but without fail I got callers, and without fail the board always showed at least one overcard.  When the table respects your raises it is possible to reraise and steal back the pot.  When everything you bet gets called, it is time to take your second best hand and muck it.  And muck it.  And muck it.  Flop after flop kept killing my raises.  It was nice that the players kept calling eachother to the river - I got to see that my hand wouldn’t have improved (and would have lost every time), but it was still frustrating to keep folding my good pairs to what I knew was a hand like K4offsuit.

In a sit and go, of course, just outlasting the stragglers is part of the game and I was getting no help from the hand of fate.  The rest of the table just kept trading money back and forth as I was slowly bleeding to death.  I watched two players get blinded all in a total of seven times without losing.  I only survived once - when my pocket aces held up.

I lived through one rollercoaster in the interim. I limped in with A♣7♣ on the button.  The flop came 7-9♣-9.  The short stack raised, I reraised and put him all in and he called with J2o. (Don’t ask me why.) A J on the turn gave him a short lease on life, but a third 7 on the river filled me up and knocked him out of the tournament.  It was a short lived success, and that was the only time that the river was my friend all night.

And so it goes.  I didn’t bet once when I didn’t have the best hand and I got sucked out over and over.  For a while I thought I should just show my cards instead of mucking them so I could get a little respect for my raises.  Or maybe I could just scream “I’m playing tight, you bastards!” in the chat. 

So when the board came up T-8-5 after my desperation all-in preflop raise holding 66, and the other two all-ins were holding T8o and J8o, and I was passed by two players who hadn’t really made a decision to play a pot in the last thirty minutes, I didn’t even give myself the catharsis of a Dean scream in the privacy of my own home. I just sighed and watched another fin drift away. 

Don’t listen to my brother when he says that I cursed at the computer. A lot.