Part 2 of the 4… yes 4! …part series is below. Part 1 and Part 3 are posted on rtp online on Poker.
Lessie shall we. Where did I leave off? You know, I’m checking online now for some supersavers to Oslo. Does Delta go there? Is it a connection in Atlanta? I could live in Norway for 18 months (that’s exactly 1 winter) and then retire in my 30s.
By now our friend in the 4 seat is pushing with every hand. Preflop. He’s rebought for another $500 and is getting cocky about the $3-$12 he’s scooping up each time.
I found AKo and decided to call. Actually, that’s a pretty scary statistical edge against whatever he’s holding and, to make the drama worse, he refused to show his cards until after the river is dealt.
Luckily, his 39o didn’t improve and my ace high was good. Another $1000 pot comes my way.
He’s rebought again.
So Blood and I have now been at this tabe for a good 90 minutes. The entire floor staff is watching in a semi-circle around our table. Players at the other tables have stood up to watch the carnage and, while there are open seats at the same limit, there’s a waitlist for our game.
Most of the Norweigians are now totally broke. Their money stacked in cool pyramids of chips in front of seats 6-10. All of us have, at the very least, doubled up. Only 2 Norweigians are left. The guy in the 2 seat, who has decided to actually play poker, and DENVER! in the 4.
It was clear 2-seat was starting to come to grips with what had happened. Now, when DENVER! pushed all in, he’d say, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING???” then fold decent hands face up.
Then, it happened.
Folks, there is one sure sign that you’re the worst player at the table. There’s one ironclad way to tell that it’s time to get up and leave. DENVER! is about to hear it.
He tried to push again, under the gun this time, but after mumbling all in he flicked his cards toward the muck and the dealer grabbed them. His action was dead. DENVER! was furious.
He grabbed the brand-new $500 he had in front, cradled in his arms because he was too drunk to ask for a tray, and started to walk away.
The sign he was right to leave? The table went NUTS!
“Noooooooo! Stay… Pleeeease!”
People stood up and begged. I asked how much we should all pitch in to make him sit again. We all agreed to fold around, to make the hand instandly dead for EVERYONE, and let him push all in right away.
“I can push all in?” he asked, seriously wounded by the previous aborted attempt.
“Yup,” we said in unison, “Do it right now.”
He sat down, and put his chips in the center, before the dealer was finished shuffling the cards.
The Chinese guy stacked him with a pair of Jacks.
THE ATM… at the ATM
It was bound to happen. DENVER! ran out of money. Here’s another lesson he can teach us all. If you’re drunk and losing, badly, do NOT go to the ATM. DENVER! did just that.
He locked up his seat with what looked like a Norweigian drivers license and stumbled out the door.
It was weird having to play poker in his absence. I got up for a bathroom break.
When I returned, so did he.
He had another $1000. He lost it in 20 minutes.
I love this guy.
Shortly after DENVER! busted for the night, Blood and I cashed out and headed to breakfast. It was the 2 of 4 nights on which I’d have breakfast at about 7AM. We’d cleaned out the Norwegians for several grand in about 2 hours.
DENVER! was standing in the sportsbook as we passed.
“Are you guys staying here?” he asked.
“No,” we said, “we’re at the Rio. What about you?”
“I’m staying here. I need to win back some money. Will you be playing here tomorrow?”
“DENVER!” I said, “You tell us where and when… we’ll send a limo.”