Sep 25
Here’s a quick update on what I have been up to lately: playing poker.
My slump continues, but I have resolved to push through it. I have played for about 20 hours across the past three days, mixing up my time between the limit and no-limit tables. Despite my negative financial trend, I’ve actually been playing pretty well. That serves as only a small consolation, though.
Spending a significant fraction of my time at and around green felt the only two stories of particular interest are similarly themed. The first really isn’t even a story. On friday night I dragged Matt to the casino and the two of us played some $4-$8 for a solid seven hours. That game was pretty terrible (Matt won, I lost); the only noteworthy event occurred when I was dealt pocket jacks or better in six of ten consecutive hands and lost every single one of them (jacks once, queens three times, kings twice). More interesting to me, actually, was the $3-$5 no-limit game being played a few tables over. I hadn’t noticed him at first, but the player in the 3-seat was Phil Gordon of WPT, WSOP, FullTilt, and Celebrity Poker Showdown fame. He was quietly and casually amassing a huge quantity of chips. I’m not sure how many people in the room recognized him, but there was no crowd around the table or quiet muttering among the other games. Perhaps that’s why he decided to swing over to my ‘home casino’ and play in our little game. I don’t get star struck by these sightings (a few weeks ago I was standing in line directly behind Antonio Esfandiari as we ordered sandwiches at Subway), but it still feels a little strange to randomly bump into someone that you have seen countless times on television.
The other interesting poker story of late took place yesterday afternoon while playing $1-$2 no-limit. Action folded around to me in middle position and I limped into the pot with Jack-Queen offsuit. Everyone folded to the blinds who both saw a flop of 10c – Kc – 4d. The blinds both checked to me and I made a $6 pot-sized bet with my draw. I hoped to just win the tiny pot right there, but both of my opponents called. The turn brought the 9 of diamonds, completing my straight but adding a second flush draw. Again both of my opponents checked. Realizing that they probably both had some kind of hand I bet out $15. I made the bet look weak with the hope of getting a raise from someone holding a king. It worked. The small blind raised to $30. But then the big blind reraised to $60. With a double flush draw staring me in the face I couldn’t afford to get cute. Having both players easily covered (I had actually been winning… weird) I just went all-in. The small blind thought for a few seconds and then called all-in. The big blind then looked at his cards, shrugged his shoulders, and overcalled all-in. Having no idea what either player held I just turned my cards over and showed them the nuts. The river came ugly, the six of clubs. The small blind flipped over his cards: Jack Queen offsuit. The big blind picked up his cards and stared at them before tossing them into the muck. I ended up chopping the pot with the small blind, but I still came out ahead because of the big blind. But this is where the situation turns ugly.
Before the hand started the chip counts of the involved players looked like this:
Me >> Big Blind >> Small Blind
On the turn I led for $15. The SB pushed out $30. The BB pushed out $60. At that point the non-committed chip stacks remaining for both players was about even. That is, they both had about $80 of their own chips left in front of them. After everyone ended up all-in, all of that money ended up sitting on the felt. The dealer looked at both of the winning hands and correctly announced a chopped pot. However, without hesitation he then quickly pulled in all the money and began stacking it into two equal piles. I instantly blurted out an objection, immediately recognizing the mistake taking place before me. Unfortunately, my plea was unheard over the cacophony of ignorant hoots and hollers of the other players at my table who were ridiculously celebrating our tie (omg, they both have JQ!!!). By the time the dealer took notice of my shouts it was too late. The money had been stacked. Patiently I explained what had just gone wrong.
There was supposed to be a side pot won exclusively by me. Player A had more chips than Player B. Although I tied Player B, we both beat Player A. I beat Player A. Whatever difference there was between A and B should go entirely to me. It’s a ridiculously simple concept, but one that this dealer somehow didn’t recognize. If A has $100, B has $60, and I have $200, at the end of the hand Player B is only entitled to win his portion of A’s $60. I win the other $40. The correct payout in this case is: Player A goes broke, Player B wins $30, I win $70. Instead, the dealer simply assumed that A and B had started the hand equal and gave us each $50.
My reasonable explanation of an incredibly normal, common, and easy to understand concept was met with a surprising level of antagonism from everyone at the table (primarily the people who were not even involved in the hand). The other players began to dispute how the hand played out and how much money each player originally had, taking sides with the other player and effectively calling me a liar. In response I recounted the exact action of the entire hand, explaining that although the stacks of players A and B were basically even at the time they went all-in, THERE WAS ALREADY MONEY IN THE POT. The small blind had put in $30 and the big blind had put in $60. That means that the big blind must have had $30 MORE than the small blind if their stacks were equal afterwards. Again, I assumed that was an absurdly simple concept to understand. Maybe I assumed wrong?
The other players responded by barking out ignorant claims as to how they imagine the hand had played out. Only one person at the table seemed to have my back, a young asian guy who mustered up all his strength to quietly say, “Actually, I think I believe him (pointing to me).” He only said it once though, and then stayed quiet while the other players bickered among themselves over money they held no claim over. The dealer at least knew he had fucked up big time, but there was very little he could do about it. There was absolutely no excuse for him to not count out the bets and create a side pot, chip disparities or not. However, with the chips already compiled it would be impossible to reconstruct the pot. The dealer mumbled an apology and threw me the bonus $1 that was left after an uneven split. Was that supposed to make things right? I shook my head at him and offered only, “Gee… thanks, man.”
I know for a fact that I was cheated out of at least $20, but beyond making the dealer feel bad (which I did) there was very little I could do about it. Were I adamant about the robbery I could have demanded the floorman stop the game and check the cameras to determine the correct chip counts, but that just seemed to me a ridiculous over-reaction to twenty or thirty dollars. I came to play cards, not fight with strangers over someone else’s mistake.
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Oh. Also, my desktop completely crashed again last night and corrupted/deleted my Windows config file. That left me with no choice but to do a full disk reformat and clean OS install. So that’s how I spent a few of my hours today… I don’t get it.