Hero Calling (AC Trip Report Pt 2)
Monday, September 15, 2008
I had just about doubled up my stack before I had my first bit of adversity at the tables. I had been playing fairly tight early on, getting my sea legs and more importantly, my feel for the table. You can know who the gamers were right away. Seat 1 was an Asian kid/guy, anywhere from 21 to 41, but he had the attitude of a young hotshot. He was playing to his court, his girlfriend sitting in the 2s and the hefty, goofball Asian kid on my immediate left. The kid on my left was wearing a jumpsuit. That just about says that. I made friendly with him, and frankly, the whole table, mostly because it was a lighthearted game. The Crazian in the 1s had been pushing all-in a lot, but rebuying for $100 or $200 at a time. A real baller rebuys for a full stack, so I knew his bravado was full of shit. His girl seemed to play very ABC, so she was of little concern.
The 3s was a beyotch though. He was playing adequately but getting very lucky. He had amassed chips and seemed to revel in the ole preflop raise, postflop continuation bet. It was winning him pots consistently.
Remember how I said I was playing fairly tight? This is when that went out the window. The 3s decides to bet $7 for the second or third time in a row. There is a caller when it gets to me in the BB. I call with T7o.
The flop is T84. I hit top pair against a guy who seems to be full of shit. He bets $12 or 15 and I call. The turn was a 9, and creates a flush draw. I check. He bets $30. I think for a while and even consider moving all-in, since he only has maybe $110 behind. I figure if he missed the flop like I think he has, he'll have to fold. But I choose to call. I think I'm ahead, but if I'm wrong, a push would be catastrophic.
The river is a blank. It goes check-check. He shows QJ, for a turned inside straight. Sonuvabitch! But I really shouldn't have been in that hand in the first place.
Losing can fuck with a man's mind. For a second, I felt the tilt coming on. And then I remembered that I was playing poker. I slowed down my breathing and got back to work.
A couple of seats to my right in the 6s was a squirrelly kid. He has a tad hairy, quiet, and had eyes that seemed twice the size as would be natural. They darted around the table gathering information like nuts. When he made good plays, and he did make a few, I told him good hand, or gave him the raise of an eyebrow. He was riding the shortstack, so it was clear he was still getting comfortable with casino poker.
He was in MP when he raised to $12. I called preflop with QJd. I was sitting on a decent stack of $550 or so and I was in position, The flop comes down KQx with 2 clubs. No one seems to want to take a stab at the pot. It checks around to the Squirrelly Kid who bets $16. I didn't like the bet. His stack was dwindling and that piddling bet was embarrassing. If he had a good hand, he'd raise more to get people off of the flush draw. I could tell that he knew that much. I'm the only caller. We see the turn, a Jack, giving me two pair. The Kid takes his time and then pushes. I consider the hand. There are a lot of ways this hand might turn out. He may've hit that x card for a set, or even have KQ or KJ for a better two pair. He might have a straight if he lucked into it with ATc or T8c. It could happen. He may just be on a naked flush draw or AKc and will river his flush. I considered all of these things and I didn't know what to do. The push was $76. I turned to the Kid for help?
"Do you want me to call you?"
He turned to me with eyes wide as a Disney cartoon. He didn't want to say a thing. Poor guy. He was in tell lockdown.
"Okay, you got it. I call."
The river was a club. Fuck. I turned to the Squirrel and waited for him to show me his nuts. He paused. "Dude, you go first," I reminded him. "You got it," he answered, and flashed his cards, 86s. I tabled my two pair and raked in the chips.
I had been at the table for about 2.5 hours by now, and it was clear that a major theme was going to be overaggressive players trying to push each other off of pots. Squirrel just took his shot at me and now it was the 1 seat Crazian's turn.
I held KQo in EP/MP when I limped for $2. Someone, I think Crazian, raised to $7 or $12. Whatever the case, when the action got to me, I called. The flop came down Queen-high, with two diamonds. I liked my hand. I bet out $23, announcing that it was 'Prime Time', i.e., the portion of the evening when I only bet prime numbers. In hindsight, I'm pretty sure the preflop bet was $7, which inspired my 'Prime Time' spiel. The action got to the Crazian and he raised to $50. It folded back to me. Odds-wise, the bet was callable; however, I had to be wary of the likelihood that he actually had a hand. My decision to call was a confluence of things. It didn't help the Crazian that I had seen him make bold plays with shit cards before, nor did it help him that his doofy buddy on my immediate left kept calling out his friend as a loose donk. I opted to call. The turn was a blank. I checked and Crazian immediately bet $80. I wish I could tell you exactly what told me he was bullshitting. Quite frankly, the size of the bet was a tip off. Based on pot-size, it wasn't abnormally large, but every table has its usual patterns and this table was not betting big at all. His play was uncharacteristic and didn't seem to invite a call. Part of me figured him for an underpair like TT or 99 or a flush draw. I thought for a while and called. The river was another blank. I checked and the Crazian bet $120. I thought once again and found that the same logic applied. He wasn't trying to pump the pot, he was trying to take it away. I called and he sheepishly said, "Good call" and flashed A8, for a pair of 8s on the flop. I showed my KQ and established my image as a player. My stack had swelled to probably $700 by this point, but it wouldn't remain at that level for long.
I'm breaking once again. Off topic, my settled trial unsettled this week. It's a long story not fit to be retold, but the net effect is that I'm back to being busy as sheet. That said, I'm enjoying these posts, so expect more to come in the days ahead.
Until next time, make mine poker!
posted by Jordan @ 11:32 PM,
3 Comments:
-
At 10:00 AM,
GrayCalx said...
-
I always look forward to reading your live poker recaps. So keep them coming.
Good luck with work. -
At 3:41 PM,
steeser said...
-
Good recaps...but I must question these two statements:
"I was wearing my old school poker uniform: my now tattered Superman t-shirt, camo cargo pants, my hunting motif baseball cap, sunglasses and a new hoodie."
and
"The kid on my left was wearing a jumpsuit. That just about says that."
I'll take the jumpsuit over the camo cargo pants. -
At 5:59 PM,
Jordan said...
-
Haha. True enough, steeser. I dress like a bum at the table in an effort to be comfortable AND more importantly create an image. Its definitely the pot calling the kettle African-American.
But just as we are both African-Americans (proverbally) my outfit and his outfit has the same effect. They make us look immature and probably LAGgy. That said, I wasn't playing against myself. I was playing against him. And his outfit actually fit with his play. He was immature, more interested in being loud with his Crazian friend than calculating and quiet. So, my read based on his jumpsuit said it all.
I don't profess to be a fashionista, but I can read info from other people's clothes.
Still, good call. Good call.
