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Poker Blog established in 2003 as the first stop for poker news, poker stories, and bad poker advice.

June 24, 2005

AMILV--Week two begins

by Otis

"Is that that movie girl?"

The guy looked like he was from Ohio. Ohio guys are easy to spot. Ninety percent of the natives look alike.

I was stuck an inordinate amount and I wanted to punch the chip runner.

Tournament play had ended early that night, and against my better judgment, I sat down to play in my regular $10/$20 game. I have a rule. If tournament play ends by midnight, I sit. If it ends afterward, I sleep.

This night, play had ended almost exactly at midnight. Choices suck.

It had been a tough night so far. Some dealer-abusing middle-aged, divorcee who claimed to be a $400/$800 player had sat down at my first table to verbally abuse his 21 year-old son for failing to check-raise with middle pair.

During my funk, I'd realized I smelled funk. I thought it was the Hawaiian guy next to me. When he left, I realized the smell was coming from me. I dialed back my brain and realized I might've forgotten to put on deodorant.

When you're winning (something that's easy to do in this enviroment), you notice all the exciting things about the room. Your reads are dead-on. The massage girls look exotic. The players at your table seem friendlier.

When you're stuck, the rose colored glasses stick thorns in your eyes. You notice the half-eaten lobster tail that's been on a tray in the corner for six days. The massage girls look used up. The players at your table are your high school nemeses.

When you're stuck, it's easier to smell yourself.

I'd just been beaten in a five-way capped pot with pocket kings by a guy who had called all the way down with J9 to hit his straight. That's when Jennifer Tilly walked out of the satellite area.

"Is that that movie girl?" the table speculated.

I mumbled something about her being Phil Laak's girlfriend.

"She's your ex-girlfriend?" they asked.

I stood from the table and walked around a little bit. In the lobby, Laak and Tilly had sat down at an expo booth, facing into the hallway like they wanted to sign me up for a credit card. Room service had just arrived and they were eating. Laak had the salmon and vegetables. Tilly destroyed a big steak and baked potato. She left the vegetables behind.

Something about Tilly being a massive carnivore changed my spirit. I walked back into the poker room and asked Mr. J9 if I could buy a $100 of my chips back from him. My stack of chips had grown smaller, but I had a few hundred bucks underneath and a lot more in my pocket. I hate looking at cash when I'm playing.

He pushed a stack of red across to me. I noticed I was under the gun and pushed $20 into the middle.

The dealer announced, "Live $20."

Mr. J9 raised his eyebrows. "Straddle, huh?"

"Steam straddle," I said.

I capped my cards without looking at them and called blind when an aggressive lady in the two seat raised it up.

I eyed the dealer and said as politely as I could, "Straddle flop, please."

He laid out 356 rainbow.

The big blind--a cowboy who had called two additional bets pre-flop--bet into me. The aggressive lady asked how that flop could've helped him.

"What can I do?" he said. "I flopped a straight."

I peeked at my cards and called his $10.

The aggressive lady put in two bets and the cowboy just called. So, did I.

Why? Why would I call again. I'd put $30 in pre-flop and I'd just called another $20. Why? Steaming?

Well, on that flop of 356...I held a seven...and a four.

A check-raise on the turn drove out the aggressive lady, but the cowboy called me all the way down.

Indeed, there is something about turning over the nuts in a monster pot that can change one's perspective.

Suddenly, I didn't smell myself any more.

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