I had originally planned on playing hooky from work for a different reason yesterday, but when that reason thought it best to get out of bed and go to class(so much for the best laid plans), I made the executive decision to call the work day a wash and head down to Canterbury Park.
I hadn't been down there since May, right before the last WPBT. The first thing I noticed when entering the room was the complete lack of a board. As in, there was nobody, not an absolute soul waiting in line to get on a table. This might be normal for a Monday at 2pm, but I've definitely never seen it as dead as it was all of yesterday, even into the early evening. So weird.
I'm immediately sat in a 3/6 game, with a move request to 4/8, though I never took that option when it was presented to me. It was hard enough to keep our table full, so I can't imagine that moving up in limits would've been more profitable, or productive for me.
You know what's great? I'll tell you.
Sitting down, immediately posting one off the button(it's required at Canterbury), and then folding my hand to no raise. Such a newb mistake. So, when I'm in Vegas, check my option for me before I have the chance to fold it, ok? Just so I don't look like a complete tool. The blinds ended up chopping, and the dealer was nice enough to leave my bet out there as if I had not even been dealt cards that hand, which was nice of him. He admitted that he wasn't paying attention, either, but I know the blame was all on me. I know better.
The worst aspect of live play is the lack of a "chat off" button, because it's always the people that blabber incessantly that know the least about the game they think they're playing.
For example: A few hands into my session, the 3s and the dealer start talking about betting great draws. Let's say you hold AKh, and the flop comes out all low with two hearts. Personally, I'd bet that pretty damn strong, and if I hit my heart draw, and maybe even just one of my overs, I'm going to win a big pot.
But not the 3s, oh no.
"I'll just check call me way down to the river."
The dealer looked at him with a level of pity normally reserved for three legged dogs and a retard with chicken pox. Or a retarded three-legged dog with chicken pox. Oh, you poor thing. You don't even know how dumb you sound right about now. Even though the table was equipped with an automatic shufflemaster, there wasn't any way for me to revoke the 3s's chat.
I was aghast. I was as aghast as I thought humanly possible. Until he started talking about playing online.
"Yeah, I had a royal flush once. And luckily the guy behind me was the bottom end of the straight flush!"
No, you didn't.
"It was so cool!"
No, it wasn't. Stop lying.
When he started in about Party Poker being rigged with action flops, I was happy that I'd not yet been drinking. Oh, and that I'm not a confrontational person. If there's any way to annoy me more than uttering the 'r'('rigged', for all the thinking challenged reading this) word, I do not want to know about it, for I fear my head will explode. And nobody wants to be cleaning up that mess.
He went on a diatribe about being seated in an MTT where three players were all in pre-flop, one with AA, the next with KK, and the last with QQ. I wanted to point out that he just bragged about his royal beating a straight flush, but I know my logic would've been met with stares of bewilderment. Not the good kind, either.
Just...wow. He spewed on and on--though nobody even asked in the first place--about being the victor in the battle of straigh flushes. How often does that happen? I'd wager a guess and say, uh, less than three people being dealt high pocket pairs, that's for sure.
Bite your tongue, Chad. And then bite it harder.
I was happy when his talking-too-much, not-spewing-enough-chips self left, and was replaced by a guy that was more than happy to distribute his stack somewhat evenly about the table. That's always nice.
Funniest hand of all time:
This happened 4 hours into my session between the 1s(sb) and 2s(bb). Only one other person was in the hand, and he dropped out after the flop was dealt
The small blind checked, the big blind bet, and was called just like everybody on our end of the table knew he would be. The 1s called every bet and two bet that came to him. If he was dealt more than one card, you knew he was coming along for the ride.
The small blind bet out and the big blind just called. To me that looked like both of them might have Ace-rag.
Well, didn't this just get a little more interesting? Why, yes, yes it did. The only thing that would make it more interesting was the raising war that ensued. There's no cap on hands played heads-up, and this particular hand made it to 6 bets on the river, and each raise had the 2s looking at his cards and then back at the board. It was obvious he had the case ace. A little part of me was hoping that someone had slipped an extra bullet in the deck as a Halloween joke, but that hope was quickly squashed when the 1s finally just called the last raise and uttered possibly the stupidest thing ever said in the company of another human being, let alone in a poker room.
"You have the ace?" he grunted as he turned over 10-4o.
It took you six bets to realize that your full house was no good? I looked around for Allen Funt to come out, because I know there had to be some Candid Camera shit going on up in this bizznatch. Alas, no Allen Funt on Halloween. (That's because he's dead, folks.)
I would've been happy with Peter Funt.
To be continued. (If you're lucky, punk)