Poker Articles

It was December of 2004, in the interim between Christmas and New Years, the time when everyone is celebrating the holidays with beers and a lax demeanor. I had been looking for a place to play live poker that was a little closer to home than Tunica, and a friend mentioned that there was a local card room right here in Nashville. The place had scheduled hours of operations (doors opened at 6:00 PM four nights a week) with alternating games of $5-$10 limit and $1-$2 no limit, interspersed with a monthly tournament. I decided to check the place out with my poker buddies.

As a Wedneday night, the game of the day was $5-$10 limit. Stakes were a little higher than the $3-$6 I was used to in Tunica (and a gigantic leap over the .50-$1 games I played online), but I was excited to find players here in my home town, and I didn't mind. I decided to invest $300 (a medium large sum for my current poker budget) if only to see what kind of players this room attracted.

My buddies and I found the place with little effort on the bottom floor of an apartment complex, a mere bike ride away from our homes. We were greeted at the door by a man in his late 40s, Jeff, who turned out to be the dealer. He was pleasant and cheerful. Everytime you won a pot, he pushed it to you, "Sir, you're gonna have to take this entire stack. That's how we do it." He let us in with a jovial, "Now you guys aren't cops are you?"

Inside, we found a few players talking shop and a large table full of snacks and drinks. The owner, Mark, a garrulous but friendly older man, was carting in even more food. He sold the place well, giving my friends and me a ticket for $25 in bonus chips on our next visit.

The place had two rooms. The front room had the large table of food and a card table hidden from the door by filing cabinets and cubical wall. We were directed to the back room which had another table and a small television showing the college football game of the night. I sat down with a delicious plate of lasagne and we started to play with a full ten-person table.

I started off tighter than I had ever played, playing only premium hands and seeing at most one out of every ten flops. I won a hand with pocket aces early and took a hand from one of my friends after capping the bet preflop. My kings held up over his queens. My winnings didn't last long, however, and the tight play began dwindling my stack. The player directly across from me, a 30-year-old with a shaved head and a goatee, was running over the table, raising every hand preflop. He was the first to bet every hand when he wasn't in first position, and most likely if you bet into him, you'd see a raise coming your way. He lost a few big hands (a couple to both of my friends), but his stack continued to increase.

After two or three hours, my friends had had their fill and decided to head out. We had taken two cars, and I was glad because I wanted to stay. My stack, which had at it's height been a little over $400, was down to around $160, and I thought I could build it back up.

I changed my play completely, loosened my game, and started seeing as many flops as I could, about one out of every two hands. The game turned in my favor when I flopped two pair against Mr. Goatee twice in a row, once with Q-6 and again with K-9. Whenever I beat him in a hand from then on, he would sling his hand at the dealer, complaining that I had called his preflop raise with Q-6.

An hour and a half after my friends left the game a few more players had dropped out, and we were down to five players. Mark, the owner, stepped into the game, and we had a nice 6 person table:

• Seat 1: Heather, a pretty young lady who lived in Nashville as a singer. She told the table about how she had a gig on New Year's Eve at a gay bar, limiting her chances for romance that night. Her play was extremely tight, and although she had busted her first $100 earlier in the night, she had built up her second $100 buy-in to over $300.
  
  
• Seat 2: A man in his mid 30s from Biloxi, Mississippi who played poker professionally. Before he arrived, Jeff, the dealer, saved him a spot and told me Mr. Biloxi had won $30,000 in a tournament in Tunica not too long ago. He was normally a $30-$60 player, but he was slumming it tonight, and it's a good thing. Lady luck had dealt him a run of bad fortune. His pocket pairs had turned into a set 5 times throughout the night, and he had lost all five times, once to a higher set, three times to a flush, and once to straight.
  
  
• Seat 3: Me. I had been on a roller coaster all night. At it's height, my stack had been a little over $400, at it's lowest near $80, and by now, I was back to $260.
  
  
• Seat 4: Scott, a solid player who wore headphones and listened to music. He was getting married in less than a month. His stack only moved in one direction. Up. He made few mistakes.
  
  
• Seat 5: Mark, the owner. He was careless, but he was paying himself and having fun. He continued to talk excessively about the latest real estate transaction he had been involved with, and how those "no-good lawyers" were a real obstacal to his financal investments (much to the chagrin of a fellow who had busted out earlier and happened to be an attorney). He joked with Jeff about how he hadn't won a hand in 43 years, and with the way he was playing tonight, I believed him.
  
  
• Seat 6: Mr. Goatee. Despite his gallant beginnings, Mr. Goatee's stack had fallen victim to my two pairs and in the middle of a hand with Heather, he had been forced to rebuy. Although he lost the hand to her, his aggressive play had built his second stack back to a decent size, and he was nearly even if not a little ahead for the night.
  
  

The six of us were seated in this arrangement when I won my biggest hand of the night.

With Mr. Goatee in the small blind and Heather in the big bind, I looked down at 5 3. Mr. Biloxi called under the gun, and I continued my loose play and called with my suited semi-connector. Scott, Mr. Headphones, folded. Mark called, and Mr. Goatee raised (no surprise). Heather folded her big blind, and Mr. Biloxi called the raise. I called the raise, and so did Mark.

We were four-handed and there was already $40 in the pot. The flop came Q 5 J, and I liked my bottom pair and flush draw. When Mr. Goatee and Mr. Biloxi both checked, I decided to bet, hoping to reduce the hand to two players. Mark called behind me as did Mr. Goatee, and Mr. Biloxi raised! Mr. Biloxi, a $30,000 winner had check raised the flop! My hand started not to look very good, but I decided to call. Mark and Mr. Goatee did the same.

I now had invested $20 into an $80 pot, and when the turn came the K, I wasn't sure if I wanted to hit my flush or not. This time, Mr. Goatee opened the betting, and was immediately raised by Mr. Biloxi. I had hit my hand, but was facing two bets in front of me. I decided to call, and a frenzy ensued. Mark immediately made it three bets and without hesitation, Mr. Goatee capped it off. I went into the tank and didn't feel rushed because Mr. Biloxi was doing the same. After a while Mr. Biloxi folded. This made me feel a little better because I was more worried by his raise than by Mr. Goatee's double raise. I knew that Mr. Goatee wasn't afraid to cap a bet with a nut draw (I had seen him do it on the flop earlier with an open ended straight which he ended up hitting). I decided that Mr. Goatee had the A, and I was praying that his second card wasn't the same suit. I called.

Mark quickly called, shouting for Jeff to pair the board, so when the river came the 9, I knew that I had him beat. Mr. Goatee opened the betting again. I called. Mark called, telling the table he knew he was beat, and flipped up his pocket kings. Mr. Goatee flipped over A T, Mr. Biloxi announced that he had folded queens and jacks, and I felt my heart race when I showed my weak flush. "I'm sorry sir, but you're gonna have to take this whole thing," Jeff chimed in with a smile as he pushed me the pot.

My stack had reached a new peak, and I decided it was time to leave. I stood up from the table and noticed I was still one away from the big blind, so I decided to see my cards.

Jeff dealt out the cards, and I looked down at A K! "That's a nice pocket to end on," I thought to myself, and I quickly raised in first position. Everyone's hand went into the muck including Heather's small blind and Mr. Biloxi's big blind. I had stolen the blinds, and I proudly turned over big slick for all to see announcing, "Now that's a nice hand to end on!" "Whoa, wait a second!" was the group response, and I realized my mistake. Scott, Mr. Headphones, right beside me had called my raise. "You have to play it out!" Mark laughed out.

The flop came A T J. With my high pair out in the open, I didn't know what to do, so I checked. Scott did the same with a chuckle.

The turn came the 7, and I checked again, hoping to get out of the hand as soon as possible, and Scott surprised me with a bet. I decided it was too confusing to think about whether he was betting because he had me beat or beacuse he knew it would look that way, so I decided to pretend like he didn't know what my hand was, and I called.

The river brought the Q, making me a straight. Scott groaned, I checked, and he turned over pocket sevens.

I got up with high spirits and cashed out. "This seems like an all right place," I thought to myself, "I'll have to come back tomorrow."