It's About the Story

The beauty of the game I play in regularly is the mix of people and players it gets. Much like a casino, we have younger people who thought poker was like it would be on TV, older guys who had the younger guys, lawyers, doctors, professionals, college professors, carpenters, waiters. People buy in for the table minimum every time, or deliberately lose their first buyin so they can buy in for the real max. That makes it more fun in my mind, because there is a challenge to learning the nuances of each new player.

Sometimes you get it through their stories. I know the lawyer on the other end will gamble if he's stuck, and go into "lockdown" if he's booked a big win. I've observed it, but I also predicted it because he's a criminal defense lawyer, and that's just how one think – if you can't plead out, gamble when your client has nothing to lose, play it safe when you've got a great case.

These stories make this game my absolute favorite, even when there are the inevitable swings.

The gentleman two seats to my right was telling me quite a story, and in the end I profited from just listening to what he wanted to tell me.

First, he had a habit of speaking Italian to the man between us. They were friends. Second, he softplayed his friend and the gentleman to his right, his roommate. He would check it down with them once all the other players were out. He valued his friends more than he valued the money he might win from his friends.

I have often said I hate softplaying, even in circumstances like this, and it would have bothered me a lot more if it did not become passionately clear that he also valued the social aspects of poker and the thrill of the gambol over the money he might win as well.

He requested Omaha every time the button was on him. This despite the fact that he recognized he had no clue how to play it – but it resulted in enormous pots and you could just see him get a thrill out of the chance to drag a big one. And he dragged a few of them. Omaha is a variance-ridden game, but he redefined variance. Up 4 buyins, down to the felt, 5 buyins in front of him, and so on. He was the very rollercoaster I try to avoid in my own play.

We had two big hands together, the results of the first leading to how I played the second. But these two isolated hands were part of a much wider spectrum of crazy play. Pushing the pot with nothing but a weak draw or Ace high when his opponent showed strength. Bluffing calling stations. Overvaluing big pairs. This gent was the quintessential "gambler." And I had position on him, and I made almost every dime of my almost 12 buyins from him (I was in for 3 because of the Hulk thing if you're wondering why I said 7.5 won earlier). Yes, I won other pots, but my two big double-ups were a result of him and him alone.

First hand: small raise to me on the button, I call with a weak holding, but it's going to be at least 6-way action because no one folds in Omaha so I am willing to see a flop – these folks pay off sets even when they don't have a redraw. (Q 6 10 10). Flop is Q 6 6. Bingo. Our friend bets, I raise. Turn is a blank – makes no straights or flushes. Our friend checks, I bet, he flat calls. River is the case 6. I look at him, he instapushes (3 buyins) and naturally I call with the best hand ("Call. I have quads."). He shows me two Aces rag rag. Yum.

Second hand – I've now built my stack up to about 6 buyins – I've gambled a bit, but usually only against the smaller stacks. Our friend has gone on a heater of his own (since he plays every pot he made some money back quickly), and is developing a healthy stack again. I have most of the table well-covered.

I am dealt J 10 9 5 double suited. Early position (a very tight professor who knows the math well) limps, two callers, and our friend raises pot. I elect to call because I can get away from the hand unless I nail the flop against these two players – Professor is almost certainly not going to repop it preflop, preferring to see a flop even with a premium hand. I figure our friend has aces. Plus, this makes it a big pot preflop, and I don't have to put in too much to win a lot, so I call. I know, I know, the siren song of the person who's way ahead on the night, but nevertheless.

Flop is 5 5 6. Bang. Professor checks, our friend bets pot, I repot it. Yes, I repot it. I know he could have me beat already, but he also was betting and raising with one pair all night (and slowplaying his monsters), and I am proceeding with my read. Against a better Omaha player, I probably fold to the pot bet, but repotting seemed like the right thing to do at the time. He pushes, and it's less than my pot raise so I call. I am only behind 56, 66, and a 5 with a better kicker now, and while the repot of mine was probably ill-advised in retrospect, I really could not put him only on those three hands, especially since he would not have played 66 fast. Once I am in for that much, I am now facing a bet that is giving me more than 3-1 on my money, and except against 66 I have 9 outs twice. I decide I need to call – too big of a chance I have the best hand.

He did have the Aces. Unfortunately he also had 5-6, and his rags put him ahead in the pot against my rags (not as far ahead as you think – Professor had the other two Aces, so he has no Ace redraw, just the sixes). As I am saying "well, I have a lot of outs" the Jack hits. It's one of those suckouts where you had the odds to chase, but the player will remain convinced you're the bad guy because he had you beat and then you won. It's also one of those hands where I played my read, built a big pot because of my read, gave myself the odds to chase by over-raising, and got lucky that I hit my gin card on the turn and it held. I make the same amount of money if I smooth call the flop – he's not getting away from the hand. But he told me a story, and I listened.

Sometimes stories are a whole lot of fun. Even if maybe you misheard them.