Commerfe, Or, A Tale In Which Two Dollarf Are Loft, But More If Gained
This humble author invites you to imagine, Gentle Reader, a veritable city of gaming-tables and brewpubs, sequestered upon an unsightly stretch of highway. Upon this city did descend a horde of the lightning-writers and their kin, set to ... Yeah, enough of this crap. After meeting more bloggers in a day than I've met in my life, I figure there might be a few more hits coming to this page, and the King's English probably isn't the way to win pots and influence people. So I went to Commerce this weekend. First time I've ever played poker in a casino (I mean EVER) and the second time I've sat down at any table game, period. Thankfully, a host of bloggers made it an entertaining and nearly profitable experience. The Commerce owes y'all a piece of my rake, as I think I'll be back, probably with my wife, who was amused by my stories. I learned two things at the $100 NL table Glyphic and I sat at - okay, I learned more than two things, but these are the principal: 1. Some people really like to gamble. 2. I'm not one of them. This was a pretty loose game - people moving all-in on the flop with bottom pair and getting called by a pocket pair lower than middle pair, that sort of thing. It made for some entertaining viewing. I raked in exactly one pot, which came just after the first orbit. Picked up AA in the small blind and popped it up to 4x the blind, weeding out all but one limper, the craggy guy in the four seat who was there with his ancient mother. The flop came A23 rainbow, giving me, if not the nuts, close enough for this table. I checked and he threw out $20. I looked at him for a long time, mostly to give myself time to keep the shake off my hands, and called. Turn was a blank (7?) and I checked again and watched him move all-in. I called and he flipped over A3d, which given the way he moved chips around the next couple of hours, must have seemed like an absolute monster. His tough luck I had the only hand he was drawing dead to. That pot put me up around sixty bucks. The next couple of hours were an exercise in folding, watching any two suited cards take down big pots with middle pair, and occasionally limping with QJo or the like only to get raised out by someone behind me. I made one laydown early on I maybe shouldn't have - it was before I had a feel for the table. I had 88 on a board of 762, but they were all hearts. Pot wasn't big and I didn't have 8h in my hand, so if I was behind already or someone paired an overcard I'd just have been throwing good money after bad. In retrospect probably the big bettor had A7 or even K7s. Anyway, I limp-folded my way around and around until the blinds had eaten up my win. The best hand I saw for the next couple of hours was ATs, which missed the flop completely. Every time I decided to make a raise with any two cards someone behind me beat me to the punch and I had to lay down my J2o or whatever. After folding for three orbits straight it was time to go meet the bloggers for dinner. I'd been so tight I knew I wouldn't have any action on a decent hand anyway. Net loss: two dollars even, one of which was a tip to the dealer. So I nearly accomplished my goal of at least beating the rake. I went and had a surprisingly tasty dinner with a bunch of fascinating and friendly new people instead. After dinner the signup sheet looked too damn long and I wasn't feeling it, so I hung out with other bloggers waiting for the Last Blogger Standing to bust out of the NL rebuy tourney. A couple hours of wandering around the casino floor later, I was burnt and figured I'd better head for home while I could still drive. Kudos, thanks and recognition are due the following people, all of whom were welcoming and fantastically entertaining people: Glyphic, who encouraged me to come out in the first place; HDouble, Bill Rini, Glenn, PokerProf, FHWRDH, EvaCanHang, scholars and gentle(wo)men all; AlCan'tHang, whose status as a scholar might be denied by some but whose embodiment of gentlemanliness cannot be questioned (hope the bar restocked for you!); and Felicia, who insisted upon meeting me that I simply must be gay, on account of the stylish Versace frames, a notion which my wife will either find extremely amusing or grudgingly, half-jokingly accept, depending on her mood. She (meaning my wife) also tolerated my absence during what could have been a productive Saturday and hence is also due much love.