Tuesday, September 11, 2007


Many have argued the online games have gotten harder since the UIGEA inhibited the supply of fresh fish to the online economy.

As someone who plays primarily on non-US facing sites, I have some sympathy for this argument, but can safely say the marketing efforts of iPoker, 888, etc. are bearing fruit elsewhere.

Even so, it's still a noteworthy event when a single player manages to change the entire complexion of a night at the tables. Such was the case in one of my weekend sessions, in which a single hand dug me out of a gradually deepening hole, courtesy of the table 'star'.

Before getting to this hand, it's worth setting the scene with another spectacular piece of poker which had me salivating at the conclusion.

The table in question had a Commentator. Not a Captain, but a guy who simply had to make some comment, usually puerile and pointless, after EVERY single hand. He bored me into switching off chat within a short period of time.

Meanwhile The Star was going about his business.

French, looser than Britney's knickers - something like 65%/7% on PT - he was merrily accruing chips calling raises with J4s and flopping the flush, etc.

Loose as he was, he actually seemed even MORE keen to get into raised pots. Almost like he knew he was going to outdraw the opponent.

His chip stack grew, and was clearly coveted. Open limping increased, the pots swelled, everyone wanted to see a flop versus this guy. Which made his position directly to my left less problematic.

The salivation began when a raise, and a call from The Star, saw The Commentator shove all-in for 50BB pre-flop. Original raiser folds, and The Star instacalls.

His 64o becomes quad fours by the river. Crushing the Commentators QQ.

I nearly fell of my seat laughing. Composing myself, I switched chat back on to see what The Commentator made of this hand.

Silence. He remained sat out, his stack empty.

I pictured him staring aghast at the monitor, goldfish mouth silently searching for the words to express his outrage. The Star was now triple stacked.

Meanwhile, across four tables, my funds gradually depleted. Until, JJ and first in from mid-position I fire in a standard raise. The Star calls (obviously), SB calls, and the short stacking BB pushes all-in.

Merrily I launch a ridiculous overbet. Sending half my stack to the centre of the table. The Star calls, and SB folds. We are committed.

Not that it matters, but the flop is a pleasing 982 rainbow, and all my chips are in the middle, facing the inevitable call from my French friend, who tables J8s for middle pair and no realistic draw. The BB has TT. Yippee.

The turn is a T. wtf! At least I'm still good for the side pot. The case J on the river is sweet, sweet icing on the cake, and I rake a $273 pot.

What a delicious feeling. I just knew that dotted around the globe, six other players were cursing their luck. Why couldn't I be the one to get into that pot? How could he call with that pre-flop? He's giving away MY money!

I've been there on many occasions. The helpless spectator as my dollars pilfered by some donkalicious muppet are swiftly redistributed to more secure hands.

My sympathy was zero. Screw them, I thought. I deserved that!

No comments: