I hit the Commerce for some poker last night and absolutely killed. I bought in for just $60 and cashed out about 2 hours later + $250. Sweet. I was in the zone and on a rush and absolutely ran over everyone at the table.

I usually play no-limit, but since I’ve been so up and down there lately and have gotten my ass handed to me the last few sessions, this time I decided to just play 3/6. You know, go back to my roots. I also decided to play more aggressively than I usually do and see how that worked for me. Conclusion: like a charm.

The worst hand of the night was also the one that seemed to spark my rush. I had suited J4 and I forget exactly what happened with the initial round of pre-flop betting, but I accidentally raised once thinking I was calling someone else’s raise, and then someone else re-raised that and then the button re-raised that and capped the betting and I ended up calling all the raises because I was already in for two bets and it was only $6 more and what the hell.

So the flop came J4x. Sweet. Two pair for me. That had to be a pretty good hand in the face of all that pre-flop betting.

I bet out $3 and most of the table folded, but the button — the one who capped it pre-flop — raised me. I re-raised him and that made everyone else fold, and the he re-re-raised me back and I called.

At this point I put him on maybe a big pocket pair — A, K or Q — or maybe a Jack, and I was mostly afraid that I’d have kicker problems, that he had paired his Jack and would make a bigger second pair.

The turn was a 7. I bet, he raised, I re-raised and he called. When he didn’t re-re-raise me I was pretty sure he just had the one Jack and was still trying to catch a second pair, so I was in good shape.

But then the river was another 7. I knew I was dead.

Sure enough, he turned up a J8. It was a crap hand, but the two sevens on the board gave both of us a bigger two pair than I started with, and his kicker was bigger than mine and so it played. The pot was his.

But on the other hand, after I lost that pot I started a monster winning streak. It seemed that half the time the flops would hit me over the head and everybody would call me all the way down and I’d win the showdown, or I’d bluff and check-raise with nothing and everyone would fold to me. It was a beautiful thing.

For awhile there, I was invincible and I was running the table. But all good things come to an end, and so did my rush. I eventually lost a few small pots and could feel the magic was gone, and then when I misread two hands in a row (one I won, the other I lost) I figured I was tired and it was time to go.