My buddy Peddie pointed out that since I wrote a poker blog about a disasterous day that I had last week I should write one about yesterday which was the exact opposite. I'll make it brief but the overriding theme is that poker is a never-ending game interrupted by sleep, food, sex, shoplifting, whatever - but it always continues in a marathonic (I invented a word) sort of way, and the only time to really tally up is when you are gone and your friends and relatives say "he did very well in poker," or "for his sake I hope they don't have playing cards in heaven."
I wasn't going to play poker yesterday but knowing that I had a lot of ground to make up would have led to a mentally draining weekend (and at my age I really need to conserve the few brain cells I have left) so I pointed the poker van southward on the New Jersey Turnpike and found myself in the nine seat, which as some of you may know, was THE seat that led me to fame and glory in days of yore. Symbolism aside, the seat played as it did in those yore days. At first it seemed as if the bad streak would continue as weak player Dave called my pocket 8s raise with A-10 to a flop of 10-10-2. But as time passed and I continued to muck, muck and muck unplayable cards I sensed that this could be a special day. Two hours into the game, with barely a hand to play I was close to even. Surely mathematics would kick in.
And then it did with a vengeance. Weak Dave raised on the button and I called from the big blind with pocket 6s. A strong Asian player (I don't know his name but he insists that he's half-Italian and half-Jewish) called as well. The flop was 8-6-2 with two spades. I bet out 60 and Asian guy called. Weak Dave then raised to 360. I stalled for effect and then seemingly reluctantly called the raise. Asian guy then shoved his stack of over 2000 into the center of the pot. Weak Dave agonized for quite a while before mucking pocket kings, and of course I insta-called. I have played with Asian guy many times and was momentarily worried that he might have pocket 8s but I dismissed that because he would have raised with them preflop in front of Weak Dave, so I essentially knew he was on a flush draw. When the fourth six hit the turn I coasted home free.
And then it became the sky's the limit as I began to run over the table, bluffing weak players out of big pots and revealing monster hands to players who dared get in the way of this steamroller. I pushed one young internet player off a better hand and when I barrelled through him on the very next hand making an unusually large river bet he said "you can't be doing this every hand," and pushed his chips into the pot only to be faced with the fact that I hit runner-runner flush.
The coup de grace came with a flop of J-9-4 to my pocket 4s. I bet and got one caller, a very aggressive new-to-the-table player who had started bullying people even as he was first settling into his seat. The player smooth-called my bet. An ace hit the turn and I made another modest bet hoping to induce a raise. To my delight he reached for a stack of green chips and pushed them forward, raising 250 more. I frowned and squirmed and counted my chips before pretending to reluctantly make the call. The river was inconsequential and he pushed half of his 1000 dollar stack into the pot. Again I hesitated, squinted and frowned before uttering the golden words - "I'm all-in." He couldn't get his chips into the pot fast enough with his A-J and when I revealed my set he just slumped back as if hit in the stomach with a cannonball.
Grabbing my water bottle under my arm I proceeded to the cage with my racks of chips. Cashiers and other players on the line congratulated me on a great session but I never for a moment forgot that poker never ends. I smiled and said thanks and went home to eat and sleep and... well the rest is none of your business.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
I’m writing this one for me. It’s not going to be interesting (not that any of my other blogs are) and it’s not going to be insightful (ntaomoba). It’s just going to be cathartic for me because when I realized that this was likely to be a disastrous day (I call it the real D-DAY) I started taking notes on my hands – well not ON my hands – on paper ABOUT my hands.
Some days you can just sort of tell that no matter how well you play you are destined to lose. This was one of those days. It doesn’t mean that you give up hope, it simply means that you continue to try to do your best not to start screaming and throwing cards at the dealer as you pray that the laws of mathematics kick in. They rarely do on days like this but if you’re going to pray for anything then you might as well pray for the laws of mathematics. After all, what could be more important in the universe than the laws of mathematics – and by extension the laws of physics – because without these laws our ipods would be too large to carry around.
If you are now thinking to yourself what the hell is he talking about, then you can see the effect D-DAY has on a stressed out poker player.
It’s a 2-5 no-limit game and for hand number one I sit down into the big blind and am greeted by pocket aces. Six limpers in front of me so I raise to 55. One caller to a flop of 9-3-3. Does he have 9-9? No! Does he have 3-3? No! He has 9-3 suited. 9-3 9-3
9-3!!!!! Rebuy.
Next big hand I limp with A-6 suited. The flop is A-A-6. Another player bets and I smooth-call. The turn is a 2. The other player makes a large bet and again I smooth-call. The river is a 7 and the other player goes all-in. Would Stu Ungar fold? Would Doyle Brunson fold? Would anyone who has ever held a chip in his hand fold?????? Of course not. I suppose you’ve guessed by now that the lucky b**tard (bastard for those of you who can’t read stars) held A7.
I’m getting tired (maybe because I’ve been playing online since I walked through the door) so I will summarize a bit. Five times I had big pocket pairs and five times players with small pairs flopped sets. Twice I flopped flushes (both times limping with Q-10 suited) and twice I was NEVER in the lead.
Twice I had pocket jacks on the button when everyone else folded to me and both times the big blind had pocket kings.
When Rod the floor guy approached and asked me if I wanted to lock up a seat in the big game that was starting I responded “sure if I have any chips left by the time it starts.” After the following hand I did not have any chips left. Ok I’m done. I hope you didn’t read this far. If you did I’m sorry for the abrupt ending. I warned you.
Some days you can just sort of tell that no matter how well you play you are destined to lose. This was one of those days. It doesn’t mean that you give up hope, it simply means that you continue to try to do your best not to start screaming and throwing cards at the dealer as you pray that the laws of mathematics kick in. They rarely do on days like this but if you’re going to pray for anything then you might as well pray for the laws of mathematics. After all, what could be more important in the universe than the laws of mathematics – and by extension the laws of physics – because without these laws our ipods would be too large to carry around.
If you are now thinking to yourself what the hell is he talking about, then you can see the effect D-DAY has on a stressed out poker player.
It’s a 2-5 no-limit game and for hand number one I sit down into the big blind and am greeted by pocket aces. Six limpers in front of me so I raise to 55. One caller to a flop of 9-3-3. Does he have 9-9? No! Does he have 3-3? No! He has 9-3 suited. 9-3 9-3
9-3!!!!! Rebuy.
Next big hand I limp with A-6 suited. The flop is A-A-6. Another player bets and I smooth-call. The turn is a 2. The other player makes a large bet and again I smooth-call. The river is a 7 and the other player goes all-in. Would Stu Ungar fold? Would Doyle Brunson fold? Would anyone who has ever held a chip in his hand fold?????? Of course not. I suppose you’ve guessed by now that the lucky b**tard (bastard for those of you who can’t read stars) held A7.
I’m getting tired (maybe because I’ve been playing online since I walked through the door) so I will summarize a bit. Five times I had big pocket pairs and five times players with small pairs flopped sets. Twice I flopped flushes (both times limping with Q-10 suited) and twice I was NEVER in the lead.
Twice I had pocket jacks on the button when everyone else folded to me and both times the big blind had pocket kings.
When Rod the floor guy approached and asked me if I wanted to lock up a seat in the big game that was starting I responded “sure if I have any chips left by the time it starts.” After the following hand I did not have any chips left. Ok I’m done. I hope you didn’t read this far. If you did I’m sorry for the abrupt ending. I warned you.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
I’m going to take a position here that is contrary to everything I’ve ever read or heard from the “experts,” and while I will be the first to admit that I might be wayyyy off base, I have come to truly believe that the importance of being able to read one’s opponents cards is extremely overrated.
This epiphany came to me during a recent hand at the Parx Casino, and to preface the story I am reminded of Richie the Hat, a young aggressive player from my Palm days who was the best reader of an opponent’s cards this side of Daniel Negreanu. Time after time Richie would make amazing reads. To a board of 9-7-6-4-2 he would say “you have 8-10” and he would be correct. And yet he would still call the all-in with 3-5. To a board of 4 diamonds he would say “you definitely have the 9 of diamonds” and then call with the 8 of diamonds. Sometimes with a board of Q-9-7-5-2 he would say “you have the Q-3 of clubs,” and still call with A-9. He was ALWAYS right and yet always lost.
The fact is that while I had often envied Richie’s amazing abilities and while I was rarely able to deduce my opponent’s holdings in any similar fashion, I was a consistent winner and he went broke and far beyond, which should have been a clue even way back then. (Okay your argument will be that if Richie trusted his reads he would have been a winner, thus bolstering the importance of being able to read opponent’s cards. Thank you for pointing this out but I’m not really interested in facts because they get in the way of conjecture).
In any event, the hand that brought me to the final realization was as follows: In a 2-5 no-limit game I played K-Q offsuit in a 5 way limp pot to a flop of K-J-10 with two diamonds. The small blind bet out 100 and I smooth-called. Everyone else mucked around to Hui who was on the button and moved all-in for 400. Hui is a very aggressive player with a wide range of possible holdings. The small blind who had about 700 left took a great deal of time and then smooth-called the raise. The fact that he didn’t shove all of his chips into the pot led me to believe that he was on a draw. If he had a made hand like a straight, set or two pair the proper move would have been for him to go all-in over the top in order to make it more costly if I were on a draw. His failure to do so clearly indicated to me that he was playing two diamonds. Since I was likely behind Hui I thought it would be a good idea to mitigate my potential loss by going all-in over the top since I had the small blind covered and he appeared to be pot-committed for 300 more. And this way if he missed his draw I would get a rebate of 300 if I lost to Hui. So I shoved and to my complete surprise the small blind showed K-10 and mucked.
The turn and river were blanks and Hui just shook his head and said “I have a jack,” losing the pot to my kings. Had I made the correct read I would have mucked my hand and the small blind would have won the pot with two pair.
I have come to believe that this is not an isolated incident but that it is a regular part of a game which is often played with weak players whose failure to make the proper moves lead the better players to false conclusions. And by the same token excellent players can often disguise their hands making it as difficult to deduce their holdings as with the weak players.
What is the lesson to be learned from this? Frankly I’m not really sure but now I’m going to start thinking about whether reading your own cards is overrated as well. After playing online I’m becoming convinced that this may very well be true. In fact there’s a story about Annette Obrerstad who won a 180 player online tournament while only peeking at her cards once during the entire session. I guess she’s a step or two ahead of me on this issue (but then again she was 15 years old when it happened). Anyway I can see the ultimate consequences of such revolutionary ideas. Can you?
This epiphany came to me during a recent hand at the Parx Casino, and to preface the story I am reminded of Richie the Hat, a young aggressive player from my Palm days who was the best reader of an opponent’s cards this side of Daniel Negreanu. Time after time Richie would make amazing reads. To a board of 9-7-6-4-2 he would say “you have 8-10” and he would be correct. And yet he would still call the all-in with 3-5. To a board of 4 diamonds he would say “you definitely have the 9 of diamonds” and then call with the 8 of diamonds. Sometimes with a board of Q-9-7-5-2 he would say “you have the Q-3 of clubs,” and still call with A-9. He was ALWAYS right and yet always lost.
The fact is that while I had often envied Richie’s amazing abilities and while I was rarely able to deduce my opponent’s holdings in any similar fashion, I was a consistent winner and he went broke and far beyond, which should have been a clue even way back then. (Okay your argument will be that if Richie trusted his reads he would have been a winner, thus bolstering the importance of being able to read opponent’s cards. Thank you for pointing this out but I’m not really interested in facts because they get in the way of conjecture).
In any event, the hand that brought me to the final realization was as follows: In a 2-5 no-limit game I played K-Q offsuit in a 5 way limp pot to a flop of K-J-10 with two diamonds. The small blind bet out 100 and I smooth-called. Everyone else mucked around to Hui who was on the button and moved all-in for 400. Hui is a very aggressive player with a wide range of possible holdings. The small blind who had about 700 left took a great deal of time and then smooth-called the raise. The fact that he didn’t shove all of his chips into the pot led me to believe that he was on a draw. If he had a made hand like a straight, set or two pair the proper move would have been for him to go all-in over the top in order to make it more costly if I were on a draw. His failure to do so clearly indicated to me that he was playing two diamonds. Since I was likely behind Hui I thought it would be a good idea to mitigate my potential loss by going all-in over the top since I had the small blind covered and he appeared to be pot-committed for 300 more. And this way if he missed his draw I would get a rebate of 300 if I lost to Hui. So I shoved and to my complete surprise the small blind showed K-10 and mucked.
The turn and river were blanks and Hui just shook his head and said “I have a jack,” losing the pot to my kings. Had I made the correct read I would have mucked my hand and the small blind would have won the pot with two pair.
I have come to believe that this is not an isolated incident but that it is a regular part of a game which is often played with weak players whose failure to make the proper moves lead the better players to false conclusions. And by the same token excellent players can often disguise their hands making it as difficult to deduce their holdings as with the weak players.
What is the lesson to be learned from this? Frankly I’m not really sure but now I’m going to start thinking about whether reading your own cards is overrated as well. After playing online I’m becoming convinced that this may very well be true. In fact there’s a story about Annette Obrerstad who won a 180 player online tournament while only peeking at her cards once during the entire session. I guess she’s a step or two ahead of me on this issue (but then again she was 15 years old when it happened). Anyway I can see the ultimate consequences of such revolutionary ideas. Can you?
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Some days are diamonds… some are hearts, clubs, or spades. Yesterday was a none-of-the- above day. Instead it was the kind of day that lives in poker player infamy.
I arrived at the Parx just in time to grab the last seat in a new 2-5 no limit game, the highest stakes game in progress at the time. I decided to post the $5 big blind out of turn in order to jump right into the action and as I gazed down at two black aces I smugly believed that I had made a wise investment indeed, once again failing to take into account the whims of the poker gods and their twisted senses of right and wrong. When the player in front of me raised to $30 I reraised to $100. Slow playing aces in a multi-way pot is an invitation to disaster and although I wanted one caller, I wanted ONLY one caller. With multiple callers preflop, pocket aces could go from a 65% favorite (or higher) in a heads-up situation down into the 30 something percent range.
As everyone after me folded back to the original raiser I breathed a slight sigh of relief, and when he reraised to $350 it was a poker player’s dream. I dawdled a bit for effect and then pushed the rest of my initial MAXIMUM buy-in to the center of the table. The other player had me covered and instantly made the call.
At the Parx there is no requirement to show your cards after an all-in bet and so we simply watched the flop. And by simply watching the flop of K, Q, 2 I knew that my 84% favorite position had shrunk to about 5%. There was no doubt in my mind that my opponent held pocket kings or queens and of course as the turn and river appeared to be irrelevant cards, much to my dismay my read proved to be correct as my opponent turned over two ladies and pulled the massive stack of chips to his bosom.
I rebought THE MAXIMUM again and that lasted almost 12 minutes when my big blind of J-4 of hearts in a 6 way limp pot met up with A-K-2 of hearts. Small bets and calls steadily built the pot and took us to the river where the three hearts had been joined by two black cards which also placed an inviting four card straight to Broadway on board. When this board elicited a bet followed by an all-in from a shoot from the hip bad, bad player I called with enthusiasm, only to watch him excitedly display the Q-3 of hearts which he played under the gun.
Two MAXIMUM buy ins gone in less time than it took to find a parking space. Suddenly however things quickly began to look up. – Or so I thought as the announcement came over the loudspeaker for the start of a 5-10 no-limit game, the big game at the Parx. I maneuvered quickly through the crowded poker room, grabbing my favorite seat du jour, the one seat, which allows me to have my back to the wall in case anyone were to go postal.
Before you could say cry me a river the cards were in the air and once again I found myself looking at a monster hand, A-K of clubs. I raised to $40 and a guy I’ll call John (because that’s his name) reraised immediately to $150. Now I have played with John many times. He has played in my home game and although he is one of those guys who travels to Las Vegas to play poker, he is actually a very weak inconsistently wild player who alwaysssss loses. Since I was familiar with his cowboy style of play I reraised to $400 and sensed that he was making a crying call. He then suggested we check it down meaning that we don’t bet any further. I took this as a sign of weakness and responded that I don’t play that way, But when the flop of 10-8-2 appeared and I knew that even if he had pocket threes I could not move him off the hand, I checked with a big smile as if to accede that we would check it down. This did save me a few bucks as a Queen hit the turn and his A-Q beat my A-K.
So now I was tilting. And this is where things can get way out of hand. All of the poker players who know me – and okay even my wife and daughter - know that with the possible exception of Jimmy D, nobody can tilt the way I do. Tilting has been the biggest detriment to my game, and yet has often proven to be the biggest asset as well. While the good players line up salivating when I am on tilt, many others run in fear, especially those who have played with me in the big Palm game.
Asian Kevin was playing at the table. Many players dislike Kevin because he is brash and often nasty to other players and especially dealers. As it happens I like Kevin a lot, primarily because back in the old Borgata days he was at my table when a dealer’s mistake cost me $600. I called for the floor and Kevin – who was not involved in the hand – immediately jumped up and started screaming that I had been cheated out of $600 and I always appreciated that.
Back to the Parx. I looked down at A-K once again as a player in front of me raised to $35. I reraised to $100 (which had nothing to do with the fact that I was tilting) and Kevin and the other player smooth-called, meaning to me that Kevin had a very strong hand. The flop was Q-10-2 with two clubs (I had no clubs). Kevin bet out $270 and the other player mucked. Normally I too would muck but since I was tilting I found a way to call. Maybe Kevin had two clubs and I was ahead. And after all I did have two overs to the board and a six-outer gutshot to the nuts. And so I pushed $270 very unwisely into the pot. The turn was a jack of clubs giving me Broadway but also putting three clubs on the board. Kevin moved all in for another $350 and when I called he said “do you have clubs?” I shook my head no and he smiled. “Then you lose,” he said turning over pocket queens for a set of queens. “Sorry Kevin,” I replied. “I hit a gutshot.” Kevin just stared at me for a moment. “You did me bad!” In the game of poker a tilt call is always welcome, except when it happens to hit.
So now I was off tilt. It only takes one suckout for me to do that and I was thinking it’s time to move up, up, up. So I played the rush on the very next hand, calling a raise with 7-8 of hearts from a chipped-up player who only plays kings and aces. When the player made a big overbet to a flop of 8-7-2 I appropriately moved all-in. He went into the tank as I took a swig of my lukewarm water. Finally with shaky hands he pushed his chips in. “NO ACE NO KING” I shouted over and over as the dealer turned the next card, but I forgot to add one other card to my mantra. I should have said “no deuce”as well. I forgot. The deuce on the turn sealed my fate as his aces up counterfeited my two pair and I understood the pain of a starting pitcher sent to the showers as I took that seemingly never-ending escalator ride to oblivion.
It’s going to be a long rest of the weekend.
By the way, I’ve played poker for a long time and have seen many crazy plays but I just saw a new one at the Parx 5-10 no-limit game. A player raised to $35 and another reraised to $175. There were two callers to the reraise. The flop was 9-6-3 with two spades and the reraiser bet out $400 attracting one of the callers. The turn was a red 4 at which time the reraiser shoved all in for $600 more. The other player insta-called prompting the reraiser to frown and comment “You called on a flush draw?” Apparently so because the river card was not a spade and the caller disgustedly mucked his cards forfeiting the pot to the reriaser who called for the chips but as is the house rule the dealer pointed out that he must show his cards in order to win. The reraiser sheepishly turned over 7-2 much to the chagrin of the mucker who surely had the better hand.
I arrived at the Parx just in time to grab the last seat in a new 2-5 no limit game, the highest stakes game in progress at the time. I decided to post the $5 big blind out of turn in order to jump right into the action and as I gazed down at two black aces I smugly believed that I had made a wise investment indeed, once again failing to take into account the whims of the poker gods and their twisted senses of right and wrong. When the player in front of me raised to $30 I reraised to $100. Slow playing aces in a multi-way pot is an invitation to disaster and although I wanted one caller, I wanted ONLY one caller. With multiple callers preflop, pocket aces could go from a 65% favorite (or higher) in a heads-up situation down into the 30 something percent range.
As everyone after me folded back to the original raiser I breathed a slight sigh of relief, and when he reraised to $350 it was a poker player’s dream. I dawdled a bit for effect and then pushed the rest of my initial MAXIMUM buy-in to the center of the table. The other player had me covered and instantly made the call.
At the Parx there is no requirement to show your cards after an all-in bet and so we simply watched the flop. And by simply watching the flop of K, Q, 2 I knew that my 84% favorite position had shrunk to about 5%. There was no doubt in my mind that my opponent held pocket kings or queens and of course as the turn and river appeared to be irrelevant cards, much to my dismay my read proved to be correct as my opponent turned over two ladies and pulled the massive stack of chips to his bosom.
I rebought THE MAXIMUM again and that lasted almost 12 minutes when my big blind of J-4 of hearts in a 6 way limp pot met up with A-K-2 of hearts. Small bets and calls steadily built the pot and took us to the river where the three hearts had been joined by two black cards which also placed an inviting four card straight to Broadway on board. When this board elicited a bet followed by an all-in from a shoot from the hip bad, bad player I called with enthusiasm, only to watch him excitedly display the Q-3 of hearts which he played under the gun.
Two MAXIMUM buy ins gone in less time than it took to find a parking space. Suddenly however things quickly began to look up. – Or so I thought as the announcement came over the loudspeaker for the start of a 5-10 no-limit game, the big game at the Parx. I maneuvered quickly through the crowded poker room, grabbing my favorite seat du jour, the one seat, which allows me to have my back to the wall in case anyone were to go postal.
Before you could say cry me a river the cards were in the air and once again I found myself looking at a monster hand, A-K of clubs. I raised to $40 and a guy I’ll call John (because that’s his name) reraised immediately to $150. Now I have played with John many times. He has played in my home game and although he is one of those guys who travels to Las Vegas to play poker, he is actually a very weak inconsistently wild player who alwaysssss loses. Since I was familiar with his cowboy style of play I reraised to $400 and sensed that he was making a crying call. He then suggested we check it down meaning that we don’t bet any further. I took this as a sign of weakness and responded that I don’t play that way, But when the flop of 10-8-2 appeared and I knew that even if he had pocket threes I could not move him off the hand, I checked with a big smile as if to accede that we would check it down. This did save me a few bucks as a Queen hit the turn and his A-Q beat my A-K.
So now I was tilting. And this is where things can get way out of hand. All of the poker players who know me – and okay even my wife and daughter - know that with the possible exception of Jimmy D, nobody can tilt the way I do. Tilting has been the biggest detriment to my game, and yet has often proven to be the biggest asset as well. While the good players line up salivating when I am on tilt, many others run in fear, especially those who have played with me in the big Palm game.
Asian Kevin was playing at the table. Many players dislike Kevin because he is brash and often nasty to other players and especially dealers. As it happens I like Kevin a lot, primarily because back in the old Borgata days he was at my table when a dealer’s mistake cost me $600. I called for the floor and Kevin – who was not involved in the hand – immediately jumped up and started screaming that I had been cheated out of $600 and I always appreciated that.
Back to the Parx. I looked down at A-K once again as a player in front of me raised to $35. I reraised to $100 (which had nothing to do with the fact that I was tilting) and Kevin and the other player smooth-called, meaning to me that Kevin had a very strong hand. The flop was Q-10-2 with two clubs (I had no clubs). Kevin bet out $270 and the other player mucked. Normally I too would muck but since I was tilting I found a way to call. Maybe Kevin had two clubs and I was ahead. And after all I did have two overs to the board and a six-outer gutshot to the nuts. And so I pushed $270 very unwisely into the pot. The turn was a jack of clubs giving me Broadway but also putting three clubs on the board. Kevin moved all in for another $350 and when I called he said “do you have clubs?” I shook my head no and he smiled. “Then you lose,” he said turning over pocket queens for a set of queens. “Sorry Kevin,” I replied. “I hit a gutshot.” Kevin just stared at me for a moment. “You did me bad!” In the game of poker a tilt call is always welcome, except when it happens to hit.
So now I was off tilt. It only takes one suckout for me to do that and I was thinking it’s time to move up, up, up. So I played the rush on the very next hand, calling a raise with 7-8 of hearts from a chipped-up player who only plays kings and aces. When the player made a big overbet to a flop of 8-7-2 I appropriately moved all-in. He went into the tank as I took a swig of my lukewarm water. Finally with shaky hands he pushed his chips in. “NO ACE NO KING” I shouted over and over as the dealer turned the next card, but I forgot to add one other card to my mantra. I should have said “no deuce”as well. I forgot. The deuce on the turn sealed my fate as his aces up counterfeited my two pair and I understood the pain of a starting pitcher sent to the showers as I took that seemingly never-ending escalator ride to oblivion.
It’s going to be a long rest of the weekend.
By the way, I’ve played poker for a long time and have seen many crazy plays but I just saw a new one at the Parx 5-10 no-limit game. A player raised to $35 and another reraised to $175. There were two callers to the reraise. The flop was 9-6-3 with two spades and the reraiser bet out $400 attracting one of the callers. The turn was a red 4 at which time the reraiser shoved all in for $600 more. The other player insta-called prompting the reraiser to frown and comment “You called on a flush draw?” Apparently so because the river card was not a spade and the caller disgustedly mucked his cards forfeiting the pot to the reriaser who called for the chips but as is the house rule the dealer pointed out that he must show his cards in order to win. The reraiser sheepishly turned over 7-2 much to the chagrin of the mucker who surely had the better hand.
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