WHEN CAN I CALL?!

First a little background. We've got the loosest, wildest player at the table (Nick). He's also very good however, which makes him very, very dangerous. $1,000 swings every hour or so is pretty normal. He bluffs constantly, but gets paid off on big hands because no one believes him. The seat to the right of him is always empty, because every time he plays, he plays for $50. (That poor soul tries to play for $5, then Nick makes it $50. Constantly. You get the picture). He's having a pretty good night and has a pretty good stack going (maybe $3,000 or so). I've got maybe $800.

Anyway, I make it $45 to go with 99. I get 3 callers. (Nick has very much loosened up the table as you can see.) I'm on the button.

The flop: 972 rainbow. Nick (seat 1) checks and the 2 seat bets $100. The Star Bangled Banner begins playing in my head. Seat 3 folds, I call, and Nick calls. Pot: $500.

Turn: (972) 5 (now there are two diamonds). Looks harmless enough. The 2 seat senses something's up but still bets $100 and I've got him on an overpair (10s?) or maybe just a 9. I figure enough is enough, let's get him all in. I come over the top for another $200 for a total of $300. This is enough to put him all in.

Nick then comes over the top of me for all my chips, another $300 or so (huh, who, what??) and I can't believe my good fortune. I've got top set and he's putting a move on me! Seat 2 looks pretty unhappy but calls, maybe hoping to hit his two outer, and I'm wondering only one thing, WHEN CAN I CALL?? After I think about it for about half a second, I figure Nick for an overpair or an underset, or simply a complete and total bluff, which was very possible. I say, as clearly as I can muster, "I CALL".

This is when my world collapses. Ever seen one of those Van Gough paintings where the walls are melting? Like that. He rolls over 86 for the nut straight (FOR $45 PREFLOP? SWEET JESUS), the only two cards that can beat me. It knocks the wind out of me. I think I actually coughed when I saw it. So I'm screwed. Oh wait, there's another card to come. Holy smokes; how about that? HOW MANY NINES ARE IN THIS DECK?!? There were four, and I now know where each and every one of them is.

Nick hasn't seen my cards yet, but he's looking at the river and while I'm reasonably sure I'm not psychic, when that 2nd 9 hits the board, I hear his brain clearly say "mother fuc%er". I say, "I've got all the nines," and he hits the table with his fist as hard as I've seen in a while. This guy's wound a little tight as you can tell, but it was pretty cool that his pounding the table had the effect of attracting 6 or 7 people from adjoining tables (and the poker room supervisor) to watch me stack his chips.

Mr. WSOP Qualifier

Sunday @ Harrah's; it was a thing of beauty. I had the Harrah's WSOP qualifier at my table and he clearly had me on "chump" cause he thought he could push me around whenever the mood struck him. I caught his hand in the cookie jar several times. My favorite:

Me: AK ($30 preflop)

Him: Call (With 3 others)

Flop: AK7 (I'm behind him)

Him: Check

Me: Check (I know he's just itching to push me around, but I know that patience is the play here ...)

Turn: 3

Him: Check

Me: A very cautious $80...

Him: $200

Before he even gets the last syllable of hundred out, I say all in. So he's stuck doling out red chips that he knows are already mine because there's NO WAY he's calling. Caught yet again by the chump at the end of the table. How's that feel, Mr. WSOP? (He folds)

I could BARELY keep from flashing a big toothy grin at him.

A 10 Year Old in a 15 Year Old’s Body

There is this little scrawny puke of a kid at Harrah's that honestly acts as if he is 10 years old when he loses. Last week he called a loose player’s all-in with 33Q on the board and he had KK. The guy had a 3; DUH. Now he's WHINING about how he just lost his rent money (I tell him he shouldn't be playing with his rent money) and he starts berating the dealer and I tell him "man, seriously, shut up" because I'm friends with the gal dealing. Anyway, needless to say, we are now enemies, but he is still 10 years old. I don't mean to pick on anyone, but he pushes ALL my buttons.

On Wednesday (three days later), we’re playing and the flop comes KQ7 and he bets with a K and I call with QJ, knowing I'm beat, but just dying to bust this little shit.

Turn: (KQ7) one Jack; no lines, no waiting. He's scared of me because he knows I know what I'm doing, so he checks and I overbet the pot. He folds and I rake about $80. I say "nice check, all I had was AJ", and show him the J. "You showed weakness." His face turns red.

Later: I've got QQ and raise preflop. He's got TT. The flop comes low; we've both got an overpair. He bets and I come over the top and he thinks and folds while saying, "have you got me beat?" and shows his tens. I say, "oh, yeah" but I refuse to show him my cards (I'm been showing some of my hands) to make it look like a bluff. He's LIVID and I cannot keep my smile to myself, which only serves to tilt him further.

About 30 minutes later, I flop a set to his raised pot (is there anything more fun than that??), and couldn't be more pleased with myself. He's basically determined to not let me "bluff" him and keeps betting, and guess what, I keep calling. When I turn over my set of FOURS, I thought he was going to have a stroke right there at the table.

It was about the most fun I've ever had at the poker table.

Pretty Boy

We've got a $5-$10 limit seat open and they call "Is Vincent still in the room?" I laugh and tell the table, “We'll make big money if someone named Vincent sits down” (laughter). Then I turn around to look at the people waiting, and there's this kid with this ridiculously fancy dress shirt on and I say, “Never mind, we want pretty boy.” (more laughter).

Well, don't worry; no decision necessary, it's the same guy. So I say to the table, I'll bet someone a red chip we're about to hear the phrase "sir, please take your chips out of the rack." The dealer stops us from betting of course, but ol' Vince sits down with that damn plastic rack just sitting there. (Giggling is heard; ol' Vince looks around, feeling a little paranoid). The dealer even gives him a minute, but eventually plays along and starts to say "Sir, please take..." and can't even get it out before half the table cracks up. It was awesome.