Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Bad Beat by Babs

"Not as gay as I expected." -Pauly on Showcase

Yup, those two met last night. I think they got along pretty well. Unfortunately, Showcase couldn't stick around for long because he had to head out to a rehearsal for a play that he's doing next month, directed by one of our pot dealers. Only in L.A.

Pauly and I spent the afternoon at what is about to become his second home for the next couple of weeks-- the Commerce Casino. I immediately rang up Ryan upon our arrival, mentally putting him at about a 3-1 favorite to be up in the tournament room. Sure enough he was, on a break from a $1K super satellite to the LAPC main event. We chatted for a while on the upstairs terrace before Pauly went off to play in the media tournament and I jumped into a cash game.

I sat in a 4-8 game that was rockish by Commerce standards, and by that I mean four people going to the flop instead of seven. It was still relatively early in the afternoon and there wasn't even a 6-12 game going yet. In the first hour and a half I won one huge pot and lost one huge pot, leaving me $9 up before I went upstairs to check on Pauly's progess.

When I found his table, they were already down to three: Pauly, three-time WSOP bracelet winner Barbara Enright, and some sweaty fat dude in a white shirt. One of the Commerce's typically ugly horse trophies had been brought out and placed on the table. Though Pauly looked to be second in chips when I got there, he went out in third place when he called Barbara Enright's all in with K3. Enright showed Q5, but turned a 5 for the suckout. At least he got in with the best of it. Bad beated by Babs. First prize was a seat in next week's WPT Invitational, but Pauly left with only a T-shirt.

After taking a smoke break to decompress, we signed up for 4-8 and got seated at the same table, but played the whole "we don't know each other" routine. Pauly sat in the 9s, I was in the 5s. I'm not sure if I was playing looser than usual or if I was just getting a lot of starting hands worth a limp, but I was seeing a lot of flops. I missed a nut flush draw right off the bat after picking up A2d in the BB. That was a big pot. Then I won a big one with a set of nines. Then I lost all of that when my top set went down to runner runner straight. Then I won some of it back when I actually sucked out on someone rivering a higher flush than the one he turned. Then it all went away again after my 2 pair lost to pocket queens spiking a two-outer for a set on the river. I was up and down, up and down. but mostly up. I had built up a nice profit of around $130 when this hand came up.

It's folded to me in the cutoff and I raise with AJo. The fat, white-haired dude on my left folds, the small blind folds, and Pauly calls from the BB. He checks in the dark with a smirk and we're heads-up to a J52 flop. Great flop for me. I bet and he calls. The call doesn't mean a helluva lot to me because I know he'd take one off here with a very wide range of hands. He's also Pauly, and I know he'd like to beat me a hand so he can lord it over me for days to come. Either that, or he's calling with lower pocket pair or even a jack, but his kicker isn't as good as mine, and I'm gonna get him on the big streets anyway. Turn is an 8. He checks again and I bet. He raises. Rrrrrreaaallly? What's he got here? 99? TT? Those make a lot of sense to me. I'd pop it with nines or tens myself. KJ? Even better. I three-bet it and he looks at me, his jaw open in bewliderment. He calls the bet and the river is a blank. He bets and I call. I turn over my AJ, fully expecting to see the pot shipped my way. I'm mentally spending the money until Pauly turns over his J8s for two fucking pair.

Motherfucker. At least I dumped off forty or so bucks to him rather than some douchebag in sunglasses. Both of us left up, in the +70 range and grabbed a bite at the diner near my place.

Spaceman just got into town as well. He'll be covering the LA Poker Classic for Bluff. He's on his way over here and I hope my freeway directions were clear enough for my favorite Tennessee boy. Right now, though, in this moment, the scene is pretty funny. Pauly and I, side by side on my green couch, each of us on our laptops, pecking out posts. I think I've really gotta stop now and take a bong hit because it's really too geeky for words.

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