A Royal Pain
October 27, 2009
There is probably no worse fate while playing poker than to get stricken with a migraine mid-game, but this is exactly what happened to me during an evening Hold’em session yesterday.
O'Sheas Poker on The Strip
What can I tell you … I’m a lucky guy.
After downing a full bottle of water and ruling out dehydration as the culprit, I summoned a cocktail waitress, explained my problem, and asked her to bring me a Roxicodone tablet.
The fact that she didn’t ask “What’s that?” impressed me slightly, and I was even more hopeful when she told me that she would “see what she could do”.
About fifteen minutes later, she arrived, and I was a little disappointed to see that she had gotten my order wrong. Instead of something I knew would bring the pain to an abrupt halt, she brought me a glass filled with what looked like plain soda but smelled like plain booze and said “try this”. I thought she was joking, but she assured me that it was a surefire headache cure.
I took a sip and … remember when you mixed donkey urine with kerosene and dumped it into the eggnog to liven up the Christmas party last year?
Well, let’s just say that I would have welcomed a glass of said pissnog over whatever it was that I was holding in my hand.
I made what must have been a hideous face, then looked up at the expectant waitress and immediately felt bad. Fortunately, she wasn’t offended. She informed me that she knew that it tasted bad, but that it would cure my headache. I slipped her a larger-than-usual tip for the effort, thanked her, told her I would nurse it, and she proceeded with her rounds.
I did not take another sip of the vile concoction, and I doubt it would have had any medicinal benefit other than to make me “drunk with a migraine”.
At least she tried.
Even though I wasn’t feeling terribly well, I stuck around for longer than usual because I didn’t have any “Degree All-In Moments”, and I felt that I had a hold on the table. I was on a slow grind up, and I even employed the semi-bluff enough times to give myself a little breathing room.
When I say I had a hold on the table, I don’t mean to imply that anyone had a physical “tell”. Few people do.
Mirage Poker Room
Mirage Poker Room
You may be able to judge the quality of someone’s cards by their pupil diameter or the minor vibrations of their hand … if you are a CIA operative.
The rest of us have no idea.
I always get irritated when someone stares me in the face when I push all-in, and acts as though he is “reading” me.
I don’t care what other people claim, but this is pure show for the other players because he has absolutely no idea what he’s looking for.
For instance, if he’s staring at me, and I stick out my tongue and crossed my eyes… what would that mean to him?
It wouldn’t mean anything.
If someone possessed a “reading” ability, they certainly wouldn’t waste their time playing in anything less than a $100/$200 game. I know I wouldn’t.
The call/fold decision is made very quickly by most people, but it just looks ohhhh soooo cooool to study the opponent before laying down a hand. It implies that you are laying down based on some inside knowledge that only you can discern, but the fact is that you simply have a sh**ty hand.
I was picking up on some other non-physical-tell subtleties at this particular table, though. There were several guys there whom I found to be entirely predictable.
For instance, one guy would throw out $10 for a feel-or-steal with any marginal hand, but when he had a real hand he would lead off with $20 or more. Another guy over bet every crap hand for a bluff, and slow-played anything good.
I didn’t bother looking at the faces of my opponents on most hands, but I had a pretty good idea where they were coming from. I never caught great cards verses a bluff, but I was making enough off of the feeler bets and minor wins to keep plugging away. Sometimes when you are working a table, no matter how much you don’t feel like continuing … you feel compelled to do so anyway.
After about two hours, I had had enough. I live my life a quarter mile at a time, and I play my poker in half hour increments. I’m not patient, nor do I have an overwhelming abundance of spare time. My omnipresent camera, laptop, and wireless modem allows me to spend more time “on-location” than a normal person, but I multi-task like hell.
I actually began rendering the Encore opening video while walking home with my MacBook in hand, and about a third of the M Resort opening video was edited in a vehicle going 65 in the southbound lane on the I-15 (no I wasn’t driving). Even when I’m kicked back poolside at the Golden Nugget, chances are I’m doing something productive. Keep in mind that I consider surfing copious amount of porn to be “productive”. It certainly produces something.
Anyway, just as I was ready to call it a session, I got my best starting hand of the day. Ac-Kc.
I called a couple of bets in front of me, and watched as 3someting-10c-Jc hit the flop. It looked like every tease video poker session I’ve ever had.
Feeler bet guy put out a bet large enough to let me know he had something, but I was feeling adventurous with the possible Royal on the board and the action became heads-up.
The turn was a 5, and feeler guy put out a whopping $10 which made me pretty sure that he was holding two pair. I was an ugly 25%-ish underdog, but ten bucks wasn’t enough to make me give up the best potential hand in poker … even if it wasn’t going to pay much.
The River came, and a 4 of clubs hit.
Always the bridesmaid …
At least I was the prettiest one.
I missed my Royal, but the Ace-high flush was just swell with me.
Feeler bet guy must have put me on a pocket pair, because he shot out another $20.
When I countered with my entire stack, well, you know what came next.
He began studying me.
I really hate when people do this to me directly because it is so absurd that I have to fight my inner asshole (which like the inner-ear actually is a body part), but I was rather proud of my 60 seconds of restraint.
After a terribly uncomfortable minute passed in which the guy, and everyone else, was staring a hole in my cranium I finally said “You’re not going to call. Please muck and let me go home. This drama is unnecessary. ”
“I’m thinking”, he retorted.
I was half hoping that my mild admonition would shame him into calling via the wonders of reverse-psychology, but five full seconds later he threw his cards face-down toward the dealer, as we all knew he would.
I did the same.
If I am near a final hand, I will often show my cards to put people out of their misery and let them know they did the right or wrong thing, but staring at me for an inordinate amount of time is enough to get me to dispense with pleasantries.
I grabbed my rack, stood up, and calmly but confidently said “Nice laydown, I had Jack Ace”.
The expression on his face is one that I will remember for some time. I didn’t pull off any stellar moves during this session, and I do think that everyone else at the table was convinced that I had high pair with an Ace kicker.
I’m positive that he had either two pair or a set, and I had a pretty reasonable all-in stack on the table.
I cashed out and headed home, content with the fact that my comment would torment the guy for the rest of his trip, and probably the flight home as well.
As I chuckled to myself while heading to the rail station, I almost forgot about the headache that was searing beneath my scalp.
Almost.
Laughter may indeed be the best medicine, but a fistful of Oxy lasts longer.
Written by Brian on October 28, 2009 at 6:44 am
They should seriously screen out people who have watched too much poker on TV because they all pull that kind of crap. Just make your decision and let us all move on, son. And take off the hood and the sunglasses. You look like a dick.
Written by cactusrose on October 28, 2009 at 9:17 am
I’m actually curious to what was in the concoction the cocktail waitress gave you.
“You may be able to judge the quality of someone’s cards by their pupil diameter or the minor vibrations of their hand … if you are a CIA operative.”
I wonder how many of them do take advantage of their skills in this manner. I suppose this is why some where sunglasses at the table or cover themselves up w/ hoodies. I’m never able to see a tell in others I’m playing w/ so I don’t even bother acting like I do.
Written by Rex on October 29, 2009 at 5:52 pm
They should seriously screen out people who have watched too much poker on TV because they all pull that kind of crap. Just make your decision and let us all move on, son. And take off the hood and the sunglasses. You look like a dick.
I look like one of these dick’s. First, I try to (not that it’s hard for me), second, my sunglasses are Rx. I can only wear contacts when it’s humid outside, and this being the desert, that isn’t often.
People often roll their eyes when I sit down with earphones and sunglasses like “oh, he’s one of those” … but it kind of works for me because I look like a student of ESPN or “Poker After Dark”. (ironically I don’t even own a TV)
In my experience, dudes who look like me, or sometimes even worse, utilize the bluff a great deal. Being ultra-tight but looking ultra-loose can sometimes be an advantage.
I cannot bring myself to do the face-stare however. I draw the line there. It’s just too much drama and douchery, and by the time I need to make an all-in decision … it’s too late to play a role anyway.
Either way, I’m probably going home after the hand.
Written by Rex on October 29, 2009 at 5:58 pm
I wonder how many of them do take advantage of their skills in this manner. I suppose this is why some where sunglasses at the table or cover themselves up w/ hoodies. I’m never able to see a tell in others I’m playing w/ so I don’t even bother acting like I do..
REAL pros can probably tell to a certain extent, but nobody at a 1/2 or 2/5NL table is a pro.
We’re a bunch of guys on the playground pretending to be Michael Jordan, and the act is fun to an extent, but when people actually start believing fantasy it gets a little weird.