Weirdswings.
As I was waiting for a seat at Dusk this evening, I perused the 50/1 tables and found there to be two particularly juicy games: lots of chips flying around and plenty of beers in hands. I was licking my lips at the prospect of a table full of drunk people with money to burn, and then it happened; the moment I'd been waiting (a whole five minutes) for, "seat for Sean Belton on table 42." Bink! I sat down for the table maximum ldo, and everyone covered me.
Third hand in and I look down at the Belton Spéciale:
. Limp, limp, I make it £8, only the big blind calls. I love live poker. The flop is a homely looking
. He checks, I bet £12, he calls quickly.
on the turn. Check, bet £20, call.
on the river. We don't worry too much about this card, obviously, I'm pretty certain he has a semi connected jackball and is calling it off here. I make it £30 and he calls and shows
. ... That wasn't part of the plan. I show my queens and he leans over the table apologetically and says sorry. ... What?! Oh well, when the waitress comes round and he orders another beer, the smile on my face reappears and off we go again.
This time we look down at
, we call the £4 raise pre from the big blind and see a flop six ways. I love live poker. Again, we get a congenial flop, this time in the shape of
. We check, the original raiser makes it £9, it's raised to £21, the guy to my right calls with £65 behind. We make it £75 and it folds to the shortstack who sheepishly moves the rest in with a shrug. "Do you have a flush draw?" I ask. "no..." The
hits on the turn. "Now I do..." Then the
on the river and he shows me the
. What in the world is going on? Is there a contest running to see who can get the hand with the least equity in versus me in the weirdest spot and win, with a beer and a packet of nuts for the winner? My EV line and my profit line are doing the splits at this point, and it feels very much like I've just done the same. If you want some roasted nuts, guys, just wait another orbit...
I'm bound to get the
all-in on
for £50 in a moment of weakness, and it's pretty likely that I'll declare "it's my turn." Then it's sure to run out
and
versus
just to stick it right in my eye. Blergh. Vomiting all over the place at this point, which seems a little unfair given that I'm the only one not drinking my body weight in sugary alcoholic drinks. The tiltiest part was watching them all losing the lot to Shola, who just showed up with the nuts every hand. The guy who won the first pot from me gets it in on
with pocket fives, and when shown, unsurprisingly, the aces of Shola turns to me and says, "every time mate. Now I know how you feel." I'd like to wager that you don't, sir. Even if we're experiencing a similar emotion at the present time; I have the benefit of a solid lump between the walls of my skull, capable of spontaneous thought processes and deliberated assessment, a sensation which you will never know, you appalling human. Now get yourself another beer mate, and sit down with next week's grocery money; I have a lifestyle to feed.
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