$33,000. No, that's not how much money I won (or lost) last night. Rather that's how much money these two total fish contributed to the 80/160 game. I didn't even get seated until about 2:30am, and one of the fish was already there. I'll call him Tiltboy, since although he's definitely a donator anyways, last night he was on megatilt due to getting insanely cold-decked and playing even worse than normal. The other fish sat down soon after I did. I'll call Amigo, since that's what everyone was calling him.
To give an example of Tiltboy's, well, tilt, here's a hand I played against him. I open-limped UTG+1 with Ac7c. Not a play I typically recommend, or do, but this was the type of game for it. Six- and seven-way pots were the norm, with only a handful of people doing any real raising. This pot ended up being unraised and five-handed, with Tiltboy in the cutoff.
Flop: Jc 7d 3c. Pair+flush draw. SB bets out, one fold, and I raise. One fold, Tiltboy cold-calls and the SB calls.
Turn: (Jc 7d 3c) 9s. Check, I bet, Tiltboy calls, SB calls.
River: (Jc 7d 3c 9s) x (I really can't remember, but it was irrelevant). SB checks, I check figuring any worse hand will fold while any better hand--a jack for example--will call. Tiltboy checks and turns over...A5o. No pair, no draw, calling all the way anyways. SB shows Ts7s and so MHIG.
Tiltboy's final tally: $14,000.
On a wholly different planet was Amigo. Amigo was in the game last week and dropped a considerable sum, perhaps $20,000 over the week. It would have been more, but he was getting lucky. Well last night his luck ran out, and actually went all the way over to considerably unlucky.
Amigo was a nice guy. Very kind, laughing a lot. Also he was very rich. And he knew absolutely nothing about poker. Acting out of turn, not acting when it was actually his turn, calling any amount with any random cards and as a result producing some unholy suckouts. These last two weeks may very well have been his first experience playing actual poker.
He once called someone on the river with 9-high, just to see what he had. I made the perhaps ill-advised attempt to bluff him, and he of course called and caught me. After that he said that he was never folding to me again. Muahahahaha. After winning a few hands where I value-bet him to death (where perhaps he had 9-high, as well), this hand came up.
Now this hand doesn't actually totally represent the egregiousness of his play in general, but it does a decent enough job of that. However, it also represents a first for me, so I'm kinda killing two birds with one stone here.
Amigo open-limps, which happens a lot as he plays 90% of his hands. I raise in the CO with AJo. BB calls, Amigo calls, three of us.
Flop: A A A. Well, would you look at that.
Check, check, I bet (remember, I can bet with impunity against Amigo), call, call.
Turn: (A A A) 5
BB, a solid player, bets, Amigo calls, I raise. BB folds, Amigo, of course, calls.
River: (A A A 5) K. Amigo checks, I bet, and surprising the hell out of me Amigo check-raises me, with a huge grin on his face. I three-bet and have visions of the time he went 8 bets on the river with an eight-high flush (against, of course, the nuts). But that was so many hands and so long ago (a week) when he was inexperienced and naive; he's a wily veteran now. He only calls, and flips over his....K6o.
Given that I flopped quad fucking aces, that's a much bigger pot than I deserved.
That hand was the first time in my live hold 'em playing career that I'd ever flopped quads with three on the board. I've flopped quads "many" times with pocket pairs. Hell, I've flopped a royal flush, the hardest thing to do in poker. But somehow, flopping quads when I don't hold a pocket pair had eluded me in my thousands of hours of live play until that very moment. What made it more interesting was that about two hours earlier another guy had flopped quad 4s holding 64o (hey, he was in the SB and it was only raised once preflop!) and I commented how that was something I'd never done (the flopping quads part, not the calling two bets out of the SB with 64o part, ahem). And then, wham, it happens, and I get paid off handsomely to boot.
Amigo's final tally: $19,000 for the night and nearly $40,000 for the two weeks or so.
Between the two of them, the game didn't budge for hours. I couldn't leave, and neither could anyone else. It was one of those games where maybe every three hours a seat would open up, and then when the uberfish finally left, the dealer's calls rang out to the floor, "One open seat on thirteen! Make that two! Two open seats! Three! Three open seats on thirteen! Four seats!"
One of those recently vacated seats had belonged to me. I intentionally avoided looking at my cell phone clock while playing and when I finally did upon leaving it looked exactly the same as it did when I had sat down so long ago. 2:30. Only it was now PM.
That session ended one hell of a week in the 80 game. I think an entire book could be written on the things that happened in the high-limit section this past week. Amigo was the star of the 80 game; there was another guy in the 25/50 NL game apparently raising and betting blind practically every other hand. This one drunk guy sat at the 80 game and proceeded to play every hand, raising most of them, and he would turn one of his cards face up
every time. Seriously. This one hand he turns over an Ace (with how loosely he was playing his other card could be any single card in the deck) and he was against two other opponents, with position. He of course raised, they called, and the flop came K 6 4. Check, check, drunkboy with his A showing, checks. Turn: (K 6 4) J. Check, check, check. River: (K 6 4 J) 9. Check, check, check.
Both opponents then look at the board, look at their cards, look at drunkboy's bare Ace, frown, and then slowly muck, while the entire table cackled with glee. Drunkboy of course walked away hours later a huge winner.
One night, one of the ultra-high-limit players came over and played ultra-drunk 25/50NL blowing through a ton of cash that was only a few BBs in his regular game, laughing and toasting everyone the entire time. Another night, there was a physical fight right there in the high-limit section. Another night, a couple ordered a bunch of food that got passed around the table like it was a party (and given how people were playing, it really was a party). There were the $60,000 pots in the big NL games that had seemingly half the casino over watching how they turned out. Every night, people were laughing and shouting and complaining, eating and drinking and gambling, giving each other back rubs and high-fives, and all with gobs of money on the table and even more practically (and sometimes literally) spilling out of their pockets.
Yes, all told, it was one hell of a week. There's still a few more days left in this tourney. But already I can't wait for the next one.