Fuck You, L-Dawg. No, Seriously.

October 7, 2006 2:54 AM

fucking hate you, L-Dawg. I mean - come on!

There I was, playing poker with my friends like I do every Friday night. The only thing that made this Friday night different from other Friday nights was that I had a massive chip stack in front of me - huge.

On the hand in question, I got dealt pocket kings. I felt pretty good. I put Zachar all in, and he immediately called. I kew he had aces. Laurence also called for some dumb ass reason. It got to the point where there were three spades on the board. I had the king of spades, so I had the second-best flush draw. Laurence went all in, and I figured I could still take down the sidepot - I didn't believe that he had shit. I called, and Laurence said "I've got outs." Sure, he had outs - he had the ace of spades and the five of clubs. He had the nut flush draw, but with a fucking ace five off-suit. This after massive betting by our standards. Needless to say that the Down Underian drew the flush and just about wiped me out.

Zachar went out on the hand, and refused to buy back in. Instead, he wallowed on the floor, mumbling something like "how the fuck could he call . . . ?"

I managed to come back and finish even, but that hand hurt. It doesn't really matter, though. It was a good night, and a great way to end an otherwise not-that-great week.

1 Comments

Utah said:

How could either of you call!? I had aces, it would have put me out of my night-long slump. It was the hand of destiny!

October 7, 2006 9:48 AM

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