Thursday, August 31, 2006

Tuesday Game Report: Shane is my hero

What follows is a re-cap of relatively new, non-batface home game. Hopefully, this is the first of what becomes a weekly addition to the blog, and you, our three readers, will have more to digest than simply Fawcett's stream of consciousness. Most of what transpired in this week's Tuesday night friendly of serious note involved Shane. And to sum, he played two or three of the worst Omaha hands I have ever seen, managed to get monstrously lucky at least four times, somehow dealt his own fucking cards, and finished down 100 (that he didn't have to pay).

Early, things were going well for me and according to plan. Like last week, I was picking up a lot of pots on the flop playing small-ball. After about an hour, I'd worked my starting stack of 2000 close to 3000. Shane had recently arrived and was slowly weak-tighting off chips, down to about 1700. Then he got all of that in on hand where the nuts on the river were the broadway straight. his opponent called the all-in bet, Shane declared, "I have the straight," and then revealed a hand filled with face cards that did not, actually, produce a straight under the tricky little rules of Ohama.

He re-bought and started losing those chips, too. Then, I'm in the big blind in Omaha, and peek down at AAQJss. There is a small raise to 70 from C.C. in mid-position, and Shane calls on the button with Ac3c7d7c. I call. Five see a Flop of A64, one club. I check, and it's checked around Turn is a 9d. I check, and it's checked around to Shane who makes it 300 to go. I check-raise the max (max-raise is 1000), making it 1300 total. Shane is sick and certain he is behind. I actually think he has something like a set of 6s. He calls 1000 of his 1350 left. River is Qc. As he is raking in his chips, he comments, "sorry, Randy, I was just trying to go home."

Very next hand I get AAKKss, and I am fucking steaming. I make it 145 to go from the SB and get five callers. flop is KTT. checked around. Turn is an 8. Checked around. River is a 2. Checked around. Both C.C. and Chop (noted gamblers) in the pot and neither will take a stab. I should have bet a little on the flop. Oh well.

A few hands later, and I'm still on full tilt. Late position with AsKcJsTs. I call pre-flop raise. Flop is 8d2cKc . Checked around. Turn is Kd. Checked to me, and I bet 300. Chop makes it 1300 to go. I have 950 left, and as Todd can attest, I am visibly distressed. I finally call turning over my AJT while saying I need to fucking hit a fucking one of those fucking cards for fucking change. Chop won't show his hand. Oh shit. He's got some fucking garbage club draw or, worse, he's going to hit his kicker on me. Plus, he's not going to show it to me until he hits it. Celeste's life flashes before my eyes. After some berating, he turns his hand over. K663. I am shaking. If a 6 or 3 comes, I will LOSE MY MIND. River's an ace. Still, I was going to get that fucking Chop. He'd become my new Dan.

At some point in here, after having to re-buy again, Shane got involved in an Omaha hand with Gay C. Shane was on the button. Flop had one club. Gay C bets and Shane calls. Turn is the Q of clubs. Gay C bets, Shane calls. River is the ace of clubs. Gay C checks. Shane gets this funny look on his face. Turns out, he'd dealt the Q and ace of clubs from his own hand. He had AcQcQxXx and thought he'd turned a set of queens with his own fucking card!!?? More amazingly, Gay C let him chop the pot??!! Oh my head! I was about... to... KILL myself.

Shane builds that up close to 4000 (or close to even), then calls a pre-flop raise in late position. Flop is AK9, two clubs. C.C. bets 300, chop calls, Shane calls. Turn is a Jd. C.C. checks, Chop bets 500 and Shane IMMEDIATELY raises 1000. And, AND, Chop only has about 1200 left. Chop sticks the rest of it in and shows two of his cards, the Q and 3 of clubs, assuming (as anyone in their right mind would) that Shane has QT. Then he sheepishly shows the other two, 8T from the second straight. Shane says, "wow, I'm in big trouble." I may or may not have screamed "How??!" and fell out my chair when he revealed JcJd3cX. No help on the river.

Somehow Shane managed to work that back up close to 6000 (or close to even once again), then he lost more than half of it with the second boat against Old Guy. So he's down to 3000 and gets involved in another pot with Old Guy. Playing Omaha, flop is 663, checked around. Turn is a Q. Checked to Shane who bets 300. Old Guy check-raises to 900. Shane is somewhat sick and calls. I think he has 63, and I also think it is an AWFUL call. River is a 5. Joe bets 1000, and Shane makes what appears to be (and he certainly thinks) is a crying call. Shane has 625Ass for the rivered full house. Joes has 63. Several groans.

Shortly thereafter, Shane calls down the new guy in holdem with top pair holding A3 only to realize that he has K3, not A3, and has called the new guy down with king high. Todd tells Shane to go home. Shane slowly gets up from the table, races to Antonio and orders a triple Wild Turkey concoction. Somehow, once he is liquified, he manages to keep his sanity and maintain his stack, down 100 for the night.

Also, he owes me $50.


Fawcett said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Fawcett said...

Until seeing that picture I hadn't realized how much weight Shane really did lose. Great job Shane.

Oh yeah, really creative ragging on the Bonfire deaths...honestly?

Anonymous said...

Until seeing that picture I had forgotten how much Shane sucks. Grreat job Shane.

Sandra White said...

phentermine - health insurance - debt consolidation - home equity loans Nice comment.. I ll come back for sure :]

Anonymous said...

Why do I feel as though Sandra is not really reading these comments, but just trying to sell something?

Anonymous said...

Debt consolodation is an easy sell to this crowd though.

Anonymous said...

re: bonfire deaths

interesting spot to set the bar for decency on the batfaces. i'm sure that dude's family will think its hysterical when they follow the link back to see son's life being memorialized for the sake of poker entertainment that starts of with ass-on-urinal grunting.