Once again I haven't posted anything in a week. I don't really know how that keeps happening, but I'm home early on the last day of the month because of a combination of factors (I hit my hours goal yesterday and was actually entitled to take today off, then I went to Garden City anyway and ran like freaking Jesus as per usual when I'm there and won the standard one rack per hour for 3 hours) and going to spend the next 90 minutes writing. I predict I'll only be funny for maybe a third of that, but here's hoping.....
The point of this post is a follow-up to this clusterfluc of a hand where to make a long story short Pete just took all my chips then randomly redistributed them around the table. Pete has been running "bad" in April. Through 29 days he was actually stuck over 40 some odd hours of play. This is the equivalent of me having a losing week, but since Pete seemingly always wins it was kind of weird to see him lose 7 sessions in a row and actually felt kind of epic. Anyway, shit like this hasn't been helping. First, my attempt at revenge:
I open limp with T9 at a fantastic 20/40 game practically UTG. Pete raises next in (as is our custom, I have positioned him on my left so that while he will take my money I will have first crack at the fishy money that pours in most freely) and gets 3 callers back to me (at least one cold call behind and at least one blind. I don't remember if the 3rd player was in late position or the small blind). I decide that while 6 handed would be optimal to fire the cannons, 5 handed is just gonna have to do, and I make it 3-bets. Pete looks at me and I look at him, and then comes the obligatory "cap it!" as the 4th bet goes in. The other 3 players call and we have ourselves a 20 small bet pot preflop. I decide that I'm gonna play this one "a little weird" if I can, mostly for fun but also to blunt the fact that Pete knows exactly what I have. The flop is:
T 5 2
We all check to Pete, who dutifully bets. The other 3 players call back to him and I just call, mainly cause I don't have much of a hand, nobody is folding like ever, and I think I can get Pete to raise me with overs on the turn so long as it's not a club and it's a card I like (like note one of those Ace things).
T 5 2 - 2
Aiyah! Not only is there a flush draw, but it's mine! I donk into Pete, and he looks as though he's been punched in the chest. Not so much as it really hurts, but in a sorta "hey man what the fuck was that" sort of way. He raises and everyone else folds. Perfect! Now all I have to do is call down and win this 16.5 big bet pot.
T 5 2 - 2 - J
Time for Plan B. I check and Pete fires one more barrel. I raise because I have just luck boxed my way into a monstrous hand. Pete thinks for a second, in that strange way of his that I can't really tell if he's Hollywooding or actually confused, then 3-bets. I cry. I call. Pete rolls AQ and gathers in the 22 big bet (880 American Dollar) pot. I am left a husk of my former self, wondering where I went wrong, other than perhaps playing every street as badly as possible.
So we're now onto the next day or perhaps the one after that, I can't really remember (aside....yesterday Debbie the dealer at Bay 101 asked me "How'ed you do in the red chip (40/80) game yesterday" to which I'm forced to respond "I don't remember". I get some crap, then realize that 1). I didn't play Tuesday and 2). I didn't play 40/80 on Monday and 3). I in fact hadn't played 40/80 for 5 days) and Pete and I find ourselves at the same table. I get in the first shot by bluffing him out of a 3.5 big blind pot on the river with 8-high. The board came down:
A76r and I checked and called him on the flop with 85, heads up. The turn brought me no help, and he checked behind. On the river I still had 8 high, heads up, and I bet. Pete asked at this point "Was he the big blind?" to which the dealer responded "I can't tell you". I confirmed that I was the big blind, and that makes it even easier for Pete to believe I have some garbage pair on this board and he folds King-High. I am happy. Baby steps here, people, baby steps.
Addendum: We have an email from Pete:
board came down:
A-7-6-6-3 all rainbow
The reason I mucked actually was because I was confused what the heck was going on, and that you actually cleared up the confusion and said that you were in BB. I thought if you were bluffing, you wouldn't open your mouth. Bad read... :-)
Then a few hands later I have my friendly T9 again and end up in a big multiway pot from one of the blinds with Pete as the aggressor. I don't remember the board exactly, but I flop a pair, a , and a gut shot, so it was probably something like:
I call a bet, then agonizingly call the turn when I pick up no help in the form of something like the 3. The river brings a Queen, and I just fire the donk of death. Pete not only folds, but calls out my hand, "9 Ten soooted, eh?" while doing so. I flash my hand to the table and comment that everyone should be wary of Pete, what with him knowing my cards and all. He makes some silly claim about folding a set, and I respond "You mean a pair, right? You folded a pair?" and he nods.
This brings us to our final barage, in which I reclaim my manhood by sucking out in the only truly acceptable fashion: While drawing to one (1) out.
Same 20/40 table, and I open raise JJ in latish position. Pete cold-calls on my immediate left, and we see the flop 4 or 5 ways for 2 bets a piece. The board comes down:
And one of the blinds donks for almost all of his chips. He's kind of a spastic dude, capable of doing this with pretty much any pair, so I raise. Pete calls two cold, which should immediately signal "Danger Will Robinson! Danger!" to my feeble brain. The blind calls all in and we're 3-handed in what's becoming a sizable pot.
K84 - 6
I consider checking and folding, but feel that'd kind of weak. Pete knows the guy that's all in could have total cheese, and would just love to bet me off these Jacks with pretty much any pair. So I bet once more, hoping to find the fortitude to fold to the raise...that doesn't come. Hmmm, time for the river. Drumrolll, please.
K84 - 6 - J
I bet cause I've been betting the whole time and well holy crap look at that I just made the 3rd nuts. Pete raises, and I go into the tank for a second, standing up and looking at board, before deciding that 75 is really just not possible because of the preflop action alone (always a dangerous assumption, but one that I'm glad I made). I 3-bet, Pete calls saying "nice hand" and MHIG. Pete held KJ, giving me the pleasure of formally one outting him. Ladies and Gentleman, the ARC has struck back.