I’m thinking of hosting a Texas Hold em poker game in my room at Journalcon but I want to know there’s interest in it before I get my hopes up. So I’m doing a handy dandy poker poll. If you’re coming to Journalcon in San Diego this October, I’d appreciate you answering the following questions.

So whaddaya think, folks? Should I fire up Casino Night at Journalcon or not?

Warning: poker content.

I hit the Commerce again last night and played more $100 buy-in No Limit Hold Em. I got off to a rocky start and was down to the felt within half an hour, but one re-buy and a few hours later I cashed out up $160. Not bad for a few hours’ work fun.

Best hand of the night:
A young Israeli kid here on vacation is at the other end of the table, doing well. He’s catching some good cards; in fact he just took down a nice pot with pocket Aces. He’s on a rush and has the chips to back it up. The cards come out for the next hand and I look down at AK offsuit. The kid looks at his cards and puts his rack in the middle of the table, going all-in.

Me with my AK, I have one of the best starting hands there is in Hold Em. It’s the kind of hand that — if you’re going to play it at all — you play it hard pre-flop: you push all-in with it. That way you maximize your winnings when it hits, and when it misses you can at least take consolation in knowing you played it the best you could. So when I saw that AK I really, really wanted to go all-in with it. But that damn kid beat me to it, which meant he probably had a pocket pair — maybe Aces — which made laying my hand down a sensible play. But AK is pretty much a coin toss against anything but AA because if an Ace falls it makes me top pair and beats his pocket pair. The kid had just had AA, so it was unlikely he had it again, and if he was just betting Ace-high then I had the best kicker. And now there was a ton of money in the pot and I had a good shot to take it. So …. what the hell. Coin toss to double up? I called.

He turned over Aces. Oh shit.

I was in big, big trouble. AA is the top pair, so having another Ace come out on the board to pair my Ace would give him three of a kind, still dominating me. Only two hands would save me: Two more Kings to give me three of a kind, or Queen-Jack-Ten to give me a straight. Both were astronomical long shots. I was dead.

The dealer dealt the cards. The flop came rag, rag, 10.
Then the turn was a Queen.
And as I stood up and chanted “Jack! Jack! Jack!” for the river, the dealer turned over…
a Jack.

I made my miracle straight.

The kid couldn’t believe it. He was livid. I was stunned. That was a $450 pot that should have been his but was suddenly mine. It was the epitome of a bad beat.

I felt really bad about it. But not bad enough to give his chips back.

Yawn. It’s 6:30 a.m. and I’m just getting in from an all-nighter playing poker at the Commerce. It’s been a long time since I played poker but it looks like I still got it: I cashed in for $200 and cashed out for $625. Ya gotta love a winning session.

Warning: poker content.

I was playing No Limit Hold ’em at the $100 buy-in table. The best hand of the night was at about 5:00 a.m. Most of the players had been at the table for hours, so we had a rhythm going and the mood was very laid-back and relaxed. It was a friendly table. Then a new player showed up: kid in his mid-20’s, Rolex, slicked-back hair, staring at everybody hard, called the floorman over to let him know (loud enough for us all to hear it) that he was on the board for the $600 buy-in game if they were looking for him — basically, he wanted to make sure we knew the Real Player had arrived. He didn’t do much of anything for five or ten minutes, just checked and folded while looking at us hard, but poker-wise he didn’t make any kind of splash. Then he made a move.

He’s on the button, I’m in middle position. I get my cards and look down to find A8 offsuit. I call the big blind, and then when the betting gets around to the Real Player, he comes out with $50. Everyone folded around to me, and I had a hunch, so I called him.

I don’t remember exactly what the flop was, but it had a King and there was no Ace. I made a feeler bet to see where I was, something like $25. The Real Player nonchalantly went all-in behind me with something like $100. I called Time.

I thought about it for a looong minute. I remembered his show-off entrance. I especially remembered his conversation with the floorman about being on the board for the $600 game and I thought it was ostentatious bullshit — I didn’t think this guy had even seen a $600 table, let alone played one. I thought about how nonchalantly he went all-in — players often try to act strong when they’re bluffing a weak hand. And I took a long minute to look at him, sitting over there at the opposite end of the table, being very interested in something happening at the next table.

And then he yawned. That’s when I knew he was bluffing: yawning is a sign of stress.

He was representing a King and I knew he didn’t have one. I put him on maybe an Ace like me, but I halfway thought he didn’t even have that much. I thought that even if he did have an Ace, my 8 kicker might still be good. And I had a pretty big stack and could afford to lose if I was wrong. So I put him on a lying-ass-dog bluff and I called him.

Well. It turned out I was half right: he didn’t have a King but he did have an Ace — with a bigger kicker than mine, a 9. So I had had the right read on him, but the wrong kicker with my Ace. So he won the hand, took me down for about $150, and he was very proud of himself for it. He crowed about how shitty my kicker was and how stupid I was to call with it, and I let him have the moment and didn’t remind him that his kicker was very nearly as shitty as mine and that he’d been on a lying-ass-dog bluff in the first place — and that I had a read on him. I just paid him off and waited for the right hand.

About 10 minutes later, it came: I looked down to find KK. The way the table had been running all night, I would have bet out large with them pre-flop — but not too big to scare away any callers — and hope no Ace come on the flop. With Real Player, though, I knew he’d probably call me with anything, so I went all-in preflop, something like $225. And I was right, he called me with AJ.

When he saw my Kings, he couldn’t believe I was betting against his Ace with them. No way were they going to hold up; he was going to catch an Ace and I’d be busted. It was all over but the dealing. I guess he didn’t know he was only 13% to catch a second Ace.

The dealer dealt the flop. And then the turn. And then the river. And what do you know: not one of those five cards was an Ace. Which meant that my Kings held up. And when the dealer counted Real Player’s stack down, it turned out that we both had the exact same number of chips … and they were all mine now. And so the Real Player was busted and he tucked his tail between his legs and left the table and that was the last we saw of him.

I love it when that happens.

And now… Now I’m off to bed to dream of giant pots and spanked loudmouths.

Today’s date is 5/5/05, That’s trip fives, so I’ll celebrate by giving up one of my poker strategies.

One of my favorite hands in Texas Hold-em is pocket fives, a.k.a. “Presto.” If I look down to find those in my hand, I will absolutely, positively raise without hesitation every single time. It’s superstition that makes me do it, mostly. It’s not that strong a hand, after all, but for some reason I just love it. And this could just be me rationalizing my love for a low starting pair, but I think it’s called “Presto” for a reason: because it’s a magic hand. It seems to me that more often than not, pocket fives will hold up — I’ll either make a set (3 of a kind) with them or they’ll just turn out to be the strongest hand. They just win, baby, so I always raise them pre-flop.

And I’ll admit, I’m a little crazy with them, too. If I don’t make a set on the flop, I’ll chase with them anyway, and maybe even raise while I’m doing it. Because, again, more often than not, it seems to me that they come through — if I miss the set on the flop it’ll come on the turn or the river. Or, like I said, even without a set they frequently turn out to be the strongest hand anyway. So I chase, even when chasing with a small starting pair is stupid.

But — and here’s the tell — if I have Presto and make a set, I will absolutely, positively, without fail go all-in every single time. And because it’s “Presto,” because it’s magic, it usually wins. So if there’s a five on the board and I’m pushing my stack, now you know why.

Today is 5/5/05: Presto. I’m going all-in.

During the final confrontation between Westley and Prince Humperdinck in The Princess Bride, Humperdinck begins their duel with the exclamation “To the death!” and Westley replies, “No. To the pain.” And then describes at length just what the pain will be.

As Westley finishes cataloguing all the ways Humperdinck will rue the day, Humperdinck says, “I think you’re bluffing.”

Westley replies, “It’s possible, Pig, I might be bluffing. It’s conceivable, you miserable, vomitous mass, that I’m only lying here because I lack the strength to stand. But, then again… perhaps I have the strength after all.”

I was playing no limit poker tonight, thought the other guy was bluffing, and lost somewhere in the neighborhood of $300 on a single hand. He wasn’t bluffing. At ALL.

I had Q6, suited. Not a strong hand, but the blinds were only $3, so what the hell: I called.

Flop came AAQ. Yuck. I had two pair now — Aces and Queens — but anyone holding an Ace had me beat. I made a feeler bet — $10 , or maybe $20 — to see where I was. Got a few callers but no raisers. Probably safe against the Ace, then, and my Queen was probably the best hand.

The turn came a 4. There was a possible flush building, but the only thing really scaring me were those Aces. Again, anyone holding an Ace had me beat. I’m not sure, but I think I just checked here and everyone checked around behind me.

River came a Queen. Suh-weet! Now I had a full house, Queens and Aces. Anyone who made their flush is dead meat, nobody’s been betting an Ace so I’m pretty sure I’m safe there. I bet out $25 expecting everyone to fold or just call and lose.

The guy to my left bets all-in $285. WTF?

Everyone else folds behind him and now it’s back to me.

I took a looooooong time thinking about it. I kept deciding to fold, then thinking back on how he was betting — or, more importantly, not betting. He was either calling or checking all the way down, never betting out. I figured if he’d had the Ace, he’d have been betting his trips on the flop, and certainly on the turn. But he hadn’t, he’d just called and checked. So I started to become convinced that he either had the last Queen and we were tied, or he had nothing and was bluffing.

To the pain: I called. I had nearly $500 in front of me when that hand started, and when the pot was right I had barely $100 left. That pot was friggin’ huge, something like $600.

I flipped over my Queen to show Queens full of Aces. And my heart stopped as he flipped over Ace-Ace.

Motherfucker had four of a kind ON THE FLOP and slow-played it. And I just bought right into it. What an ass. I should have known I was beaten when he moved in on me. What ELSE did I think he had? So I donated to the guy, and big.

I have to give him credit, he played that hand perfectly. And it paid off. Huge.

The real pisser is that it was almost a jackpot hand. Aces Full or better beaten by Four of a Kind paid a $26,000 jackpot tonight — if both your hole cards played. Only one of mine did, the Queen. If there’d been another Queen on the board I would have won the jackpot. And if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

To the pain.

God, I hate poker.

Just so I remember this in case I ever contemplate playing poker again: I’m done with poker. I just donated $200 to the Zipperhead No-Foldem fund and that’s the last penny those nippleheads are getting out of me. It took me just 15 minutes to go through my first hundred dollars, and then it took me another hundred to figure out that I’m just Not Going To Win — At All.

The hand that told me how things were going to be (saving me $100 if I’d listened then) was about my 10th hand at the No Limit Hold Em table:

On every hand up to that point, the standard pre-flop bet was $3. I was dealt Ace-King, so I raised it up to $10. Three players called.

Dealer puts up Ace-King-4. I have two pair and I’m first to act. I bet $10 again. I probably should have gone all-in right there with two pair, but there was only about $40 in the pot and I had a monster hand so I wanted to build it up. I bet $10. One player calls, the other two fold.

Dealer puts up a 2. I have top two pair, I’m down to one player with a pot that isn’t going to get much better — I go all-in with about $50. And he calls me. What the fuck?

The last card doesn’t matter. We turn our cards up. I have AK for two pair, he has 3-5, giving him A-2-3-4-5 straight. He wins. I sit there dumbstruck for a moment.

This fucker called $10 preflop with absolutely nothing, then he called another $10 with a gutshot straight draw, then he caught the one of four miracle cards in the entire deck that would give him the winning hand. 48 other cards in the deck either improved my hand even more or locked me in as the winner, but he caught his miracle card.

Un-fucking-believeable.

$80 later, on my last hand of the night, I again made two pair on the river, but the board paired to counterfeit my hand and give the pot to the clown on my left who had spent the night bluffing and folding every single hand but this one.

I was, to put it mildly, furious. I think I might be banned from the Bicycle Club now, because I tore my cards in half and threw them at the dealer as I got up to leave.

It’s just as well, because I’m fucking done.

Warning: Poker content (and dense poker jargon).

I stopped at the Commerce on the way home last night and sat down to a few hands of 4/8 hold-em. End result: +$200. Shweet. Pardon me while I toot my own horn:

Best hand of the session came about 20 minutes in when I was on the button and was dealt pocket Kings. Everyone limped ahead of me, I made it $8 to go, the Big Blind made it $12 to go and everyone called, so I went ahead and capped it at $16 — and everyone called! Yikes. I put the BB on Ace-something — maybe AA, maybe not. Everyone else I just put on stupid and pretty much ignored. I knew the BB was my competition in this hand and hoped for a King on the flop.

Flop came K36. Suh-WEET! Trip Kings for me, looking good! But two diamonds made me nervous. Big Blind checks, so I think he probably doesn’t have AA – unless he’s going to check-raise me. I put him on a suited Ace and hope it’s not a diamond. Everyone checks to me, I bet out $4, everyone calls — including the BB. Now I know he doesn’t have AA. Definitely a suited Ace.

Dealer puts up the turn. A diamond. Shit. Big Blind bets out $8 and I know he’s hit his flush. Everyone folds to me and now I’m beat but I’ve committed so much to the pot that I have to call and hope the board pairs to give me a full house. I call.

Dealer puts up the river. Another three! Suh-WEET!!!! I have a full house, the only hand that beats me is 3333, and I know the Big Blind only has a flush. He checks to me, I bet $8, he has to call just to make sure I’m not stealing. I turn up my full house, he turns up his flush, I drag the $100+ pot.

Oh, that was a great hand.

I dabbled in the $100 buy-in No Limit game at the Bike again last night.

I got off to a rough start — I lost my $100 buy-in pretty quickly. I was intimidated by two of the other players, one of whom is well-known in the online poker community and a very solid player, and so I wasn’t playing well. I was chasing flushes and straights, which is a pretty good way to lose your buy-in. If they hit, great, but they usually don’t, which is why chasing isn’t a great idea. Also, they say if you can’t spot the fish at the table, it’s probably you. I didn’t see any fish there.

Anyway. I busted out and went over to play in the 4/8 game for awhile. I was up/down/up/down and got bored with the game, so I checked back in at the No Limit board. They had two tables going, so I put my name on the list and told the guy “Don’t give me Table 12.” (The table I busted out of.) Shortly afterward I was called to Table 10.

I bought in for $100, played conservatively for a little while until I got a feel for the other players’ games, and then it was a repeat of last time I played: I ran that table and cashed out about an hour later for $420.

End result: +$220 for the night. Shweet.

I play a lot of Texas Hold’em poker at the Commerce and the Bike, but it’s all been Limit Hold’em — I’ve been a little intimidated by the No Limit game and too afraid to try it. I play a lot of No Limit online, but not for real money, it’s just for practice, and I’ve played in several live tournaments, but again it’s not for real money, it’s for tournament chips. In that No Limit game, you’re playing for real money and you can lose it all on one hand. Scary.

Tonight, I played No Limit Hold’em for the first time at the Bike. I bought in for $100. I cashed out with $475. I owned that table.

Shweet.

The title of this entry is potentially misleading. No, I did not sight a poker star like Phil Helmuth or Scotty Nguyen, instead I sighted a star while playing poker the other night — Richard Kind, best known from his role as Paul on Spin City. He’s a pretty solid player, too, he took me down for about $30 in one hand and racked up about $200 in his first half hour at the table.

He didn’t manage to hang on to it, but then neither did I. I think we both went home losers that night. Only difference is that he cashed a big sitcom star paycheck the next day to cover it, while I cashed a per diem check with quite a few less zeroes to cover my losses.