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Paul Demko - Live Nude Weblog!

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What is the best bbq joint in Kansas City? Missouri, not Kansas

There's nothing more annoying about poker players than their bad beat tales. If you spend enough time around card players, particularly bad ones, you hear these sad-sack stories constantly, an endless litany of the various ways in which they've been unfairly oppressed at the poker table.

First of all most of these stories are lies. The person telling the bad-beat tale might actually believe every word of what they're saying. But this is just a psychological mechanism to shield themselves from the fact that they are ignorant, undisciplined poker players.

Secondly, most of these yarns, if carefully scrutinized, aren't even technically bad-beat tales. They're simply stories about how a bad player played a hand poorly and got punished.

Thirdly, it's called gambling for a reason! Of course you're going to suffer bad beats. That's the nature of the game. If you don't like it go play trivial pursuit--or some other game that is solely meritocratic.

That said, I'm now going to burden you with my bad-beat saga from Monday night. I rarely play poker out at Canterbury Park. Why? Because I lose. Of the dozen or so times I've gone out there to play cards during the last six years I've probably walked out ahead twice. That's not a win-loss ratio with very good long-term financial implications.

Why do I lose? I don't know. Probably because I play poorly. But like every gambler I'm inclined to blame the high house rake, the erratic behavior of low limit players, and bad luck.

I went out there Monday night because they were holding the first Chippy Poker "Biscuit Invitational". Naturally I couldn't resist sitting down at a $2/$4 limit hold 'em table with $80.

For the first hour I pretty much treaded water, winning a couple of meager pots. But then things headed south quickly. My pair of aces got outkicked and my trip fives got sucked out on by a straight.

So I'm down to about half my stack when the table starts to get screwy, as it so often does with low stakes poker. The guy one off the big blind puts out a live straddle, meaning he's raised the bet to $4 without looking at his cards. Then the guy next to him--a talkative, drunken jackass--raises it up to $6. Everyone folds around to me. I look down to see Ace-King, both of diamonds. I call. (Should I have re-raised there?)

We've got four people in the pot. The flop comes Ace, two, nine, with the latter two cards being clubs. Now the Jackass who'd made it $6 before the flop leads out with a $2 bet. I bump it up to $4. There are two callers, including the Jackass.

Fourth street brings another rag, not of clubs. So now I've got top pair, but some fear of a flush draw. The Jackass checks. I bet $4. The other dude folds. Jackass calls.

Now the river: ten of clubs. Jackass bets. I know I'm beat. He's obviously hit the flush. But I'm also obviously pot committed, so I call. He flips over two clubs. I lose.

But here's the kicker. The two clubs that the Jackass showed? Five and seven! This moron raised it up to three bets before the flop with five-seven suited! And got paid off handsomely for doing so. I then proceeded to quickly give away the rest of my stack.

Posted by Paul Demko at March 29, 2006 4:38 PM

« Apologies to the owner of the van that was hit by my automobile in downtown Minneapolis this afternoon when I failed to engage the parking brake. Thanks for leaving that note on the windshield letting me know that no damage had been done. | Main | Does anyone need a toner cartridge for a Hewlett Packard printer? I found one in my yard yesterday. It appears to be brand new »

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