It's 1:00 PM, which means I woke up early. Last night the last players left here at a little after 3. The game was a big success, I was up huge all night, but managed to tilt away a good $100 at the final FEATURE table. Here's the play-by-play, as scribbled in a reporter's notebook.
I've got the tables and chairs arranged. I use a big bedsheet to cover the banquet table in the living room. The breakfast nook in the kitchen will be table 2. My cards and chips are on one table and I'm waiting for Mr. Blood to arrive with more.
My kids love the poker setup, and they've climbed into the folding chairs to play what they think is Texas Hold-Em. It was at this time that my oldest, a 6 year old who starts first grade this fall, said those magic words, "Daddy, will you teach me to play poker?"
Dear readers, I almost cried.
A ring at the front door I didn't expect. The game was set for 8, and while a few of the regulars have been known to show up early, this is a bit odd.
My kids answer the door and Mrs. Blood is there. She's shopping for a new home and loves the house NEXT DOOR. She and my wife launch a broad-based conspiracy to acquire the property. I imagine a housewarming POKER-GAME/BARBEQUE of epic proportions. With adjoining backyards, I imagine a band, but I can't let Blood choose the music.
I tried to play this development off in a very cool macho disinterested way, but I'm pretty excited about the possibilities.
My wife and Mrs. Blood are watching a home movie that the Bloodette has burned herself. It's some sort of cowboy music played over photos of thier last trip to the beach. My wife swoons at the idea and now I've got to lug a camera around the beach this weekend.
Frustrated with the female bonding I headed for the store. I'd already arranged the booze for the night (tequila, vodka, and moonshine), but I still needed beer. The grocery is less than a half mile from my subdivision and I've never wanted to drive anywhere I could easily walk so... off the flop-flops flew.
I choose Diet Aspen brew. 12 pack.
My neighbors see me carrying Diet Aspen brew back to the house and one of them yells, "Hey G! Is there a bridal shower at your place tonight?"
It's $50 max buyin with .25/.50 blinds. Rebuys are, of course, highly encouaged.
First cards in the air. Blood and I have decided to handle the banking at separate tables. I decided hearts from the pile would get the kiddie tabe while the spades were in the living room. Blood captained there while I was, and still am, the ace of hearts.
MY TABLE :
2s Phil (Friend of Alan)
3s Alan (who claims to have been at Woodstock. That makes him one of the few people I know who was actually there OR just one of a dozen or so I know who have told me they were there... he also looks EXACTLY like Robert DeNiro, Fockers era. Plus, he's a friend of the aforementioned Phil)
4s Cardone (his nicknames include: Overdraft protection... and Call-done)
5s Rich (I'd post something about Rich here, but he won't stop talking long enough for me to concentrate on his features)
6s THE WOLVERINE (Youngest player at the game... and son of Shep Tiltstein)
7s Dymski (Who bought a Harley in Maryland and then regretted driving it back to the Carolinas)
I bust THE WOLVERINE when my AK catches an ace on the turn. He bet into me assuming his AJ was good. It wasn't and it was some time before he rebought. In fact, shortly afterward, his seat was taken by the late arriving TeamScottSmith.
I'm in a hand with Calldone. I make it $3 pre-flop and he comes along.
The flop is ace-rag-rag
I bet out $6 and he calls again.
The turn is another rag and I check.
Calldone bets 5 and I check-raise to $15.
I show the hammer!
Here's the thing: He's obviously playing the ace on the flop and his call on the flop bet seems to indicate that he thinks his pair is good. Then the turn card couldn't have helped me. What about the check-raise would make him fold?
That's the hammer baby.
TeamScottSmith has, in fact, arrived. He's got a bottle of "Forest Glen Pinot" and he's ready for one of the most entertaining table images in homegame history.
Scott's MO is always the same. Chat,chat,chat... finish the bottle of wine... and suddenly... WHAM!... too drunk to communicate. He's been running this scam on new players at the G-Vegas game since I've known him and its a damn convincing act. He knocks his chips on the floor, mispronounces words, and in general appears drunker than ALCAN'THANG in a river of booze. Scott is a pretty solid player so the ruse usually earns him so dough.
AN EXAMPLE OF THE STUPID BANTER
Rich asks Dymski, again, about the bike trip from Maryland. Mike says it would have been much better without the borrowed helmet and with much less rain.
Rich says, "How come you didn't take a more direct route?"
Dymski says, "I did go direct, right down I-77."
"No, no, no," says Cardone, "I-77 curves around so that you have to merge with another interstate."
"I'm telling you, I just made the drive, I took I-77!"
"Sorry man, I just don't believe it, I-77 has a curve and can't be the most direct route," insisted Rich.
And so for 9.5 minutes we debated the curvature of I-77. Neither side gave ground. Especially the side represented by the guy who was, in fact, ON I-77 a short time ago. Stupidity ensues and it's damn hard to get a hand dealt.
I change the subject by asking everyone at the table, "Sooooo, who's coming to Bradoween?"
CJ calls. We all drink moonshine.
I call Al. We all drink moonshine.
Sexy Maudie calls. We all drink vodka or tequilla.
Austin April calls. We drink tequilla.
MY NOTES GET ALL SCRAWLY
I've spent a good deal of time this morning trying to figure out why I wrote "Blood vs. Carter admin." in my notes. Was he related to a hostage? Did he resent the loss to Reagan?
Which reminds me... A few weeks ago I had a dream about Jimmy Carter. I was in a Taxi cab in Atlanta and Jimmy was driving. I decided to sit in the front as a gesture of respect to our former President. We'd talked for some time when, for no reason, I blurted out "Hyper-inflation! I mean can a phrase sound worse that that? HY! PER! INFLATION! Jeeeezus!"
Jimmy gave me shit for using the Lord's name in vain.
Anyway, it now seems the notes say "Blood vs. Cardone arm", which would makes sense, Cardone kept challenging Blood to an arm wrestle. I knew this wouldn't actually happen. It didn't.
I wrote, "The wheel". I assume that's in reference to a hand I played against someone. I don't actually remember at this point.
It couldn't be in reference to the music because I eschewed the Dead tonight for something we could all enjoy.
MY 5 DISK CHANGER :
1 Phish at Charlotte '94 disk 2
2 Phish at Charlotte '94 disk 3
3 Allman Brothers EAT A PEACH
5 Phish Picture of Nectar
BadBlood actually liked Particle. I was pleasantly suprised to find out that TeddyBallgame is also a phish-head. He prefers Widespread Panic, which is just wrongheaded, but I still find it acceptable.
Phil is busted and Otit joins our table. There was some confusion about this.
We were using different chips at each table and so I counted his chips at Blood's table to give him the equivilant amount at ours. What I didn't know was that Blood cashed him out. So Otit pocketed that cash and then took free chips at my table for about $75.
I don't blame Otit for that. He's an honest guy. I think we both just screwed up. Tommy the Axeman promises to collect the money today.
I raise pre-flop with the hammer and everyone folds to me
Dymski and I are in a big hand.
He limps pre-flop and I make it $4.
Flop is all hearts... queen high. He bets $6. I call.
Turn is another heart. Dymski thinks for a bit then bets $10.
I come over the top and put him all in. He goes in the tank and then folds.
I show the hammer. There's no way he plays a solid flush like that. I was pretty sure the hammer would work that time. Neither the 7 nor the 2 was a heart.
We're down to 1 table now after a substantial amount of attrition.
It looks like this :
1s BadBlood (our favorite Metal listening future neighbor)
2s Alan (I've got nipples. Can you milk me Greg?)
3s Shep Tiltstein (He earned this nickname last week at Otis' house. He was on wicked tilt at the time. Obviously. But the name sticks because he was previously... without a nickname)
4s Team ScottSmith (By now VERY fake drunk)
5s G-Rob (tall)
6s Tommy the Axeman (Once built a guitar for a woman he doesn't know. She plays in an 80s cover band and he's hot for her. For the record, they do a great cover of Billy Jean)
7s Teddy Ballgame (Exactly like TeamScottSmith... except Teddy IS actually that drunk. All hands played by Teddy feature the phrase, "Awwww hell")
8s The WOLVERINE (finally rebought. Twice)
9s The Mark (Known worldwide as the man who defeated BadBlood at arm wrestling. Also known for hosting a competing game which features No-Limit Omaha hi/lo.)
I'm in a hand with TeamScottSmith.
Scott bets $3 and I make it $8. He calls.
Flop is A-A-10 with 2 diaminds.
He bets $10. I call.
Turn is a 4 of diamonds.
He bets $10. I raise it to $35.
I show the hammer.
The very next hand... Scott and I are at it again.
I limp in with 4-6 of spades.
The flop is 3-3-5 with 2 clubs.
Scott bets 2 and I call.
The turn is an offsuit 7! Bingo! He bets $5 and I raise to $25. He calls.
The river brings another club and I'm concerned. He checks and I do to.
My straight is good.
That's the beauty of the hammer on the previous hand.
Teddy bets $3 and Mark makes it $18.
The flop is king high and Teddy would be golden with his suited slick.
He looks down to make a bet... and notices his cards aren't there.
Shep looks sheepish. He's mucked Teddy's cards. Nice hand Mark.
BadBlood's chair is taken away for cleaning after he rivers a straigh flush to the 8... in diamonds.
At this point, I've stopped taking notes. A good thing because now TeamScottSmith has a pint of Jim Beam on the table.
I finished up $30. I was up $200 when I got to the final table. I'm a bad poker player. That post is next.