I’ve played here many times. You know the game, no foldem holdem. You can’t win with solid play, you win by showing down the best hand. Or is that true? Today, I will take you into the thoughts deep inside the head of a low limit pro. Yeah that’s right, pro. $1/2 and $2/4 are normal for me, and that extra 0 on the number $10 makes my heart pump. <READMORE>
So here I am, my normal seat, straight across from Geoffrey Schmidt. Two down from Kenny Wear. And over in the two seat is Milly Lust. These guys are regulars with me. The rest are new faces. Guys with a story. Guys who have been around the block a few times. They know what life is about, these guys.
The game begins.
I fold the first few hands which is normal to my style. I like to get a feel for the game, although I know that I always have a feel for everything. Then. A hand begins. Not just a normal hand. A hand for the ages. One that Kenny will never forget.
I peek down at King Jack. Both spades. That devilish one eye on the jack makes me smirk every time I see it. But I keep a straight face. I move my eyes ever so slightly to the left. Then to the right. Then I look straight down at Kenny. He raised it up from the one hole. I give him the stare down of a lifetime when I push my chips in for the call. I can see him sweating in the hot room. The same sweat from that night last summer in Georgia. See, Kenny and I go way back. Way back to college. Kenny’s the type of guy you don’t meet at a bar. No, Kenny’s the type of guy you get assigned to. Assigned to live with. In the same room. For three quarters. All the time.
I take another look down at my Jaking. Spades. My favorite dealer burns and turns. Ten of spades I see in the window. My face doesn’t move. Queen of spades as he slides his hand to the right. I look back at Kenny. He just got out of his car after a long drive from Atlanta. Ace of spades. He’s tired. Visiting family for the weekend after this game. He was abused as a child I am sure. He long ago told me stories of his father doing crack and spending time in prison. His loving mother used to call him all the time, he would show her almost no emotion. He was divorced twice by the time he was 26. I take all of this into account when I consider whether or not he was bluffing, and what I should do with my hand.
As he pushes a red $5 chip toward the pot, I weigh my options. Fold and show the table. I will do this about 10% of the time here, letting everyone know I can make a big laydown if I don’t like the situation I am in. You can always wait for a better spot, no matter the spot. I move on to smooth calling with the intention of folding the turn. This will further show that I will give action. Raise. A royal flush on the flop is more common than you might think, and if I raise here it will be obvious I have one.
I take option number two and smooth call. The dealer burns. And turns. The turn. At first I thought an offsuit 4 hit. But we all know 4s and Aces are almost identical. Another Ace. The case ace. How I do I know it’s the case ace? Because with all the time I spend with him, his cards become see-through. I can see into his cards. Into his soul. Into his inner soul. Kenny would drop out of college junior year. His grades were never stellar. His mind, always elsewhere. His two red aces were burning a hole in his sunglasses as I looked at them. The holes in his sunglasses become a sort of tell. A poker tell, you might say. This time he pushes 3 $5 chips forward. Another tell. He loves his quads. They make him unable to count. Or does the 3 chip bet mean he has three of them? No time for analysis, I must further weight my options.
The dealer corrects his bet to $10, probably a mistake caused by more ‘Tussin, the ‘Tussin. He has love for the drug called Robotussin. I again smooth call his bet. A complete rag hits the river. He begins to look at me. Probably doing backflips on the inside, knowing his four aces are a near lock. I’m sure he doesn’t care what I have. I know he knows I know he knows I know he knows what he has. He has become short stacked and pushes $10 of his last $15 into the pot. I call with my royal flush. He proudly flips over 2 red aces, for quads, just as I ‘spected. I smile. A smooth, long smile, one induced by 9 months of having lived with him. Being around him, all the time. Putting up with him. Listening to him. Hearing him breathe. Supressing rage. A killing rage.
As I show my royal, he flips. His smile turns quickly to a berated look. He doesn’t know what has happened. He sees his money being pushed my way as the others at the table look in awe. Top quads vs. the royal. You probably see this once or twice in a lifetime. Kenny turns his eyes toward me, and reaches for his beltline. I knew what was coming before he grabbed it. His pistol is pointing at me. Dead between my eyes. He begins sputtering out fragments of words, indecipherable words. Stuttering too. Mostly the f-word. Occasionally a few other profanities. He couldn’t believe it. Hell, I could barely believe it, but my read was dead on. DAMN I’M GOOD. I began to become a little scared. I knew my life was in a crazy man’s hands. I knew he was capable of pulling the trigger, I’ve seen his bucks. 14 point, 12 point, he had em all. I didn’t want to become his first 0 point. I began to try and talk him out of it. I told him of all the decent times we’d had together. I told him of his family, and my family, and what it would mean to us all. I told him that I knew he didn’t want it to come to this.
I slowly began walking toward him. Slowly. Slowly. My hand outreached toward his shoulder. It felt tense when I touched it, but relaxed as he lowered the gun to the table. I knew he was in a lot of pain, inside and out. He dropped his head touched my shoulder. He began to sob. His tears flowed down his face and onto my breast. I assured him everything would be ok.
I counted his $5 chips. Maybe I’ll buy him a bottle of robo when the night is through.
BIG HEMS OUT
For more of Big Hems unique humor, check out his bad beat posts:
WORST BAD BEAT EVER OMG SO FRIKEN STUPUID!!!!
OMG?!?! YOU LIKED THE LAST ONE THIS ONE IS 83957894x WORSE!
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