Who Was That Masked Man?!

Thursday night with The Juice (well, for one hand anyway). We had a short table Thursday night, with several people having other things going on. Still, it was a good group of guys, and a fun night overall. The night was strangely quiet, however, with the noticeable absence of Davey Boy. Dave, his wife Jamie, and a couple friends of theirs got a stretch limo and went out on the town (now there’s a scary thought). Midway through the night they stopped in to say hi, and (you know Dave…) the next thing you know, His Juiceness buys in for $400 and sits down to my right.

We’re playing Omaha 8, and I’m dealt Ad-3d-5d-Ks. While not a great hand, of course, it’ll do given the circumstances. With the others waiting, I know Dave’s chips will be in the middle of the table in the blink of an eye, and I’m damned sure going to stake my claim to his $400. Sure enough… raise, re-raise, re-raise, etc, and four of us are all-in preflop. There’s over $1,400 out there, and as usual, nobody turns their cards over until all five community cards have been dealt. God forbid someone should miss an opportunity to slow-roll…

As I’d mentioned in a previous post, Dave has been on this slow-roll kick lately. In other games this move might get your kneecaps broken – in his game it earns you street cred. I personally don’t like doing it, but I will sometimes make an exception for Our Hero (I did try it a few weeks ago against John S, but it just felt kind of weird). I figure whatever Davey gives me, I’ll give it back to him times ten. Well, except for chips, that is. As Willy Wonka would say: “Strike that…reverse it.”

But I digress – back to the hand.

So by the river the board ends up showing A-A-K-10-2, giving me the stone-cold nuts. Dave turns over A-10, and starts gloating more than he did after he lost his virginity to his college wrestling coach. Of course, I let him brag about how “That’s the way you do it!” for a few moments, going so far as to turn up the 3-5, shake my head and moan about my low not getting there. I let him scoop all the chips in front of him, including mine, before slowly turning up my A-K as well.

Sadly, it didn’t quite have the effect I had hoped (I obviously need more practice at this move…). I waited so long and did it so quietly that J-Rod, our intrepid dealer, grabbed my cards and pulled them into the muck with the others before I could even get a word out! Luckily, a couple other players saw my hand, but I spent the next minute or so convincing a shocked Dave that the chips he thought were his, as usual, really belonged to me. We were able to recreate the hands from the muck (and he tapes the game anyway), so it never really became an issue.

And then, like a summer storm, he was gone as quickly as he arrived. A lot of hurricanes will take your car with them when they leave. Dave (God bless him), actually leaves you enough money to buy a new car. Okay, so tonight it was only enough for a ’72 Pinto, but he did only play one hand.

And I heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight…”Piss on you all, it’s a hell of a night!”

See ya at the tables…
Rick