Joe Speaker

Instead of reading this post with the mind-set of “Jesus, Speaker’s talking about losing at poker again. I can’t stand it,” it might be more palatable if you enjoy the fly on the wall aspect of watching lousy people play lousy poker and laugh at them, as I eventually was able to do after brief Incredulity Tilt.

Or, if you want, I can just sing for you, the same way I serenaded several dealers later in the evening. I don’t know when it happened, but I now tend to sing when I get drunk.

You’ve been completely warned.

Morongo now runs a $20K Guarantee NL tourney on Friday nights, so the room was packed. Lists were long at every level and there were no spare tables, only opening up when the tourney players busted and tables consolidated. Betty and I waited about two Hefeweitzens (approx. 20 minutes) for a seat at a new 3/6 table, so the money burning a hole in my pocket didn’t have time to singe me.

It was a typical blend of players: older rocks, serious kids, jovial fatties. Donks all, save for the geniuses in the 8 and 9 seats. Initially, there was a lot of loose-passive play, the serious kid in Seat 3 he only one who dared raise on any street. I got involved in my first hand with QcTc in MP and five of us saw a flop of Ac3×4c. Checked to me and I bet, being called by the button and BB. The turn was a non-club 2 and again it was checked to me. Hey, I’m still drawing to the second nut flush, so I bet again and am called again in both spots. The river makes my flush, but it’s a 3, pairing the board. So when the timid Asian woman leads out from the BB, I just call. The button though, gets all excited and raises. At that point, I turned to Betty, fingering six singles and say, “This is what’s known as a ‘crying call.’”

The Asian lady calls first and the button turns over 6h5h for the straight. “Oh, I can beat that,” I say. But I could not beat Asian Lady’s A3.

To sum up: Button had the nuts on the flop and just called. Then raised with the worst hand on the river. Asian lady is holding a boat on a straight and flush board and doesn’t make it three bets. Both those inactions cost me six bucks.

I actually won the next hand I played. My raise with KK was called by all the limpers, several people playing California Craps and Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. Because it’s how I roll, the door card is an ace, but the flop also has a king and a ten. That’s pretty nice. Surely one of these people has an ace. Surely a few of them have a naked Q or J which they will chase to the river and beyond. So I think I’m gonna get paid of a bit (or bad beaten). But no, my flop bet takes it.

Betty, whose game has improved leaps and bounds based on the more folding and less calling, finally plays a pot (after a brief lecture on Boredom Tilt), limping on the button. The flop comes QQ3 and she fires when it’s checked to her. The bet takes it down and Jovial Fatty says, “Did you have a queen?” I opine that it smelled more like pocket 7s to me, at which point Betty’s face drops noticibly, teling me I was correct, or at least close. So I started rattling off a number of other random hands she might have had so our oponents couldn’t get a read on her, not that they were paying any attention.

Later, she told me she had 77. Though she might have just trying to make me feel better, because I was felted.

Some players left and their seats were filled by…gawd…I don’t know what they were…huffers?…escapees?…sub-humans? Suffice to say, their favorite words were “three-bet” and “cap.” One guy raised every hand pre-flop regardless of the action and then bitched when the flop missed him and he folded. I only saw one of his hands in 45 minutes and it was a QTo which he three-bet from the BB.

So the tenor had changed and I encouraged my protogee to tighten up, which wasn’t what she wanted to hear becaus her cards were garbage. But she did. Not that the strategy worked for me. I got AA and was happy for the action. I was the first raiser behind a limp, there was a three-bet in LP and calls from the button and SB. QT was in the BB again, he capped it and all came along. Thanks. Love AA in a 5-way pot.

But the flop was as ragedy as they get: 964 rainbow. I suppose I like that one. However, since there was $70 already in the pot, nobody decided to fold to my $3 bet. Pair draws abounding. The river was a T and the second spade. This time my bet was called only by the SB, who was an unassuming Asian dude, 60 or so, who was…in a word…fucking terrible. I wasn’t concerned at all about what he was holding, because he’d called down and mucked on the river several times already.

But then he fired when the K came on the river. My stomach dropped. I didn’t know for sure I just got beat, but felt like it. KT? K6? No…QJo for the runner-runner nuts.

It’s possible I slammed my AA on the table. It’s possible that smirk he showed when tabling his hand put me on Tap the Aquarium Tilt. Yeah, I wasn’t any fun to be around for 90 seconds or so. For some reason, Asian dude folded his hand face up on the next hand (on the flop) and it’s possible I suggested his fold was bad and that his lucky ass would get there and that I’d never fold if I had his kind of good fortune.

A few missed flops later, I cast my lot with The Drizz (99)–capped pre-flop, naturally–and Asian Dude finished the job when he made two pair with Big Slick. Betty and I went to play -EV games…well…I guess I should say other -EV games, where I lost more, but actually had fun doing it. The people who had to listen to me sing…probably not so much.

Looking even further on the bright side, Betty brought me this, fresh from the Duty Free at Heathrow:

Or, as I plan to market it soon: De-Tilt in a Bottle.

This entry was posted on Sunday, July 29th, 2007 at 6:13 pm and is filed under Uncategorized.