Why I hate aces (Part 3,476)
Our bad beat blogger gets taught a harsh life lesson. Er, again...
|by Bad Beat||August, 30th 2010||
Above: Aces are a disaster. Inset: The FURIOUS Bad Beat Blogger...
OK. Rant time.
I was just playing in a $10k guaranteed tourney at a certain well-known offshore poker site that shall remain nameless.
It paid to about 60 places and there were 300 or so players left.
I'd done everything I NEVER do...been responsible, selective and careful. I'd won about six or seven hands to get to this stage and was in better than average shape.
I was just getting itchy fingers, desperate to play some cards, when I looked up to find...ACES in the hole!!!!
Now, call me excitable, but I raised the pot. Two callers.
The flop comes, 4♦, 5♠, 8♣.
The first guy to act moves all in. The guy to my right folds.
I figure the guy who has gone all-in, having flat called my pre-flop raise, is either representing strength (a set, maybe) or has, at best, the straight draw or a lower pair.
He shows...K♣, 10♥.
I mean, the guy has nothing. NOTHING.
I glance at the board, almost casually. Only a nightmare turn and river can beat me now. He needs two 10s, two kings, or one of each.
I do the 'math', as the Yanks say....
The odds are 3 in 44 for the pair of kings multiplied, roughly, by 2 in 43 for the set, I think.
It can't happen.
Fourth street...a king.
I start laughing, pitying the poor guy for having his hopes raised so cruelly. What a sucker.
The river comes...a king.
I won't tell you what I said - or shouted - next, but I did throw my laptop across the sofa and vow never to play f^%*£ing poker again.
I guess Texas Dolly is right: In poker, as in life, never count a man out until the fall of the last card.