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Dancing to a Bad Beat
Filed under: Imported
On Saturday morning I went to use the ATM machine at the Super America across from Canterbury Park and discovered that my bankcard was nowhere to be found. I should've figured this was a bad omen. I should've turned around right then and headed home.
But, of course, I didn't. Instead, I persisted in tracking down a Wells Fargo bank, withdrew $100, and proceeded to the Fall Poker Classic.
My goal: to win a seat in the $300 limit Texas hold 'em tournament, slated for noon. To that end, I pony up $45 to play in a one-table satellite. The winner of this ten player mini-tournament gets $350. In other words, enough to pay for a seat in the $300 tournament and still go home with a little cash.
Things start promising enough. On just the second hand, and with one guy already busted out, I look down and spy a Jack and a Queen, both of clubs. On the flop comes two more clubs, a 10 and an Ace. Another player goes all in and I nervously follow suit. The river delivers the King of clubs. I have a royal flush. Just like that I've doubled up my chips.
Then I hibernate. I lay in the weeds and watch the players get knocked off, one after the other. Finally it's down to just two people--myself and a Canterbury regular who talks a good poker game, but seems a little sloppy in his play. He's got my chip stack covered by about half.
Over the next fifteen minutes I slowly turn the tables. I catch a steady run of solid hands. For the most part, he knuckles under to my raises. I've pulled into a decent chip lead when I look down and spot a pair of 10s. After he raises to $350, I push my chips all in. He calls and turns over King-6 of hearts. Praise Jesus.
I'm not smart enough to calculate the odds like they do on the TV, but I would guess that I'm about a 3-1 favorite to win the hand--and the mini-tournament. I'm about to walk away with $350. The flop brings two hearts. Scary, but I'm still in the lead. Then on the turn--a King. I lose.
And just like that he's got me in bad shape. With the blinds at $100-$200 and about to go up again, I don't have much time to waste. A couple of hands later, after he raises to $300, I look down and spy Ace-6, off suit. Not exactly the strongest hand in the world. But I figure I might not see another Ace before my chips run out. So I raise all in.
He flips over ... Ace-4, off suit! Again, I'm a prohibitive favorite. Only a 4 or a wheel straight (A-2-3-4-5) can beat me. And what comes on the turn? You guessed it: 4. Lousy, stinking no good 4.
Motherfucker.
I didn't deserve such a lousy fait.
Posted by Paul Demko at September 20, 2004 3:58 PM
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