I just finished watching Shrek at work(our computers were ordered with DVD players, I don't know why), and as long as I'm in the slacking kind of mood, I might as well try to Hulk smash out the rest of my day at Canterbury.
After the quad aces debacle, the table tightened up considerably. The dealer went as far as proclaiming it "The Tighest 3/6 Table Of All Time. And it was.
In 5 out of the next 7 hands, the blinds chopped. In the two hands that didn't chop, only one other person limped in and it was checked around to showdown. That right there, folks, is boring poker.
Even during all the tightness, I got hosed. It was so tight that I'd raise UTG with AJo, and get just the blinds. Come to think of it, the only time I had a raise-worthy hand was UTG or UTG+1. My UTG+1 pocket 10's fell to the big blinds KQo when he turned a king. On the next rotation, my UTG+1 raise with pocket jacks was squashed by the big blinds two pair, 2's and 5's.
Note to self: Stay away from the guy two to my right.
Fortunately for me, the table broke, the guy that had my number(not literally, no) left up a rack and a half(thanks to me), and I was moved to a table across the room. Not so fortunately for me, I arrived at that table a rack and a half down.
Piling my meager 2 1/2 stacks of blues in the 2s of the new table, I saw another reason that I tend to enjoy the oppotunity to play online, as well as live; old people.
Now, I'm not an agist, and I have nothing against old people except for the funny smell. But I look at them, maybe 80 years young, possibly even pushing 90--hey, maybe even in a wheelchair with an oyxgen tank nearby, and a Med-alert bracelet card protector on top of a pile of chips--and I realize that, when I get old, I hope that I'm either dead, or have something better to do than sit at a 3/6 table on a early Monday evening. It's depressing.
The old man in the 5s jokingly said to the dealer"...got nobody to go home to, so why go home? Even the dog died 10 years ago". I didn't catch the end of the what he said because I walked over to grab a Cardplayer while waiting for my big blind to come around, or even what the conversation was all about because I missed the beggining, but I don't want to be that guy.
And then I opened up the issue of Cardplayer, saw of picture of Isabelle Mercier, and all was right in the world. I'd rather it be a picture of Cecilia Nordestam, but for that moment in time, everything was good.
It got better when I sat down a few hands after posting my big blind and spied AKo. UTG had already declared "Live six!", so when UTG+2 raised that, I was giddy. The 9s and 1s both folded, and I 3 bet it. Everybody else folded to the straddler.
Now, I'd been playing with him at the other table, and could tell he doesn't normally play 3/6. He was just playing to have fun and blow off some steam. He'd straddle every time he was under the gun, and then half-heartedly complain when nobody would play back at his powerful 23o. I was there to get better, not spar with a maniac.
Of course I was not suprised when he 4 bet it blind. Why would I be?
UTG+2 just called, and that should've been an alarm going off in my head to cap it. Against a blind hand and someone that just called a 4 bet, didn't reraise, I was looking pretty damn good. And I realize now that I'm a pussy for not capping the betting preflop. I'm a pretty, pretty pansy. A pansy that missed two 1/2 bets. Shit.
Bingo, Bango, Bongo, I just got hit by a monster truck.
Ok, who really cares about how the rest of the betting went? I surely don't. Let's just say that I won a very large pot because UTG+2 had AQo and called all my bets down to the river. The straddler had 10-5o and bowed out on the turn.
Yay, I'm back up to only $50 down for the session. I cheered that at the table. To myself of course. No need to be rude.
coming up next: A moral dilemma at the poker table?