Putting the F.U. in fun....

Played at the Carsino home game on Saturday night as part of a BBQ and Birthday night for the lovely Suzy_Q. As always, brudder Carson and Suzy_Q were fantastic hosts and the BBQ meal was only topped by the good friends and conversation during our dinner. DonKaaa and Queen_Kaaa were there, along with mini-donk-EH, and the bunch of us had a lot of laughs as always. Thanks for the hosting and the feeding Carson’s. :o)

A bunch of TuckFards showed up a little later and the standard poker game broke out with 10 of us all sitting down at the same table. There was a bonus $5 bounty added on top of the buy-in for knockouts in the game and as always, the $5 becomes the focus of several players. This typically leads to some early action and some surprising hands being played. This night was no different at all. The chips seemed to rotate around the table endlessly, as one by one moves were made, suck-outs ensued, and short stacks became chip leaders over and over again.

I couldn’t really get anything going and it seemed to be the same thing for Donkaaa and my Pebbles. The three of us were hardly in any pots unless it was our steadily limped into big blinds. Typically however, after being allowed to play our blinds, the flop would whiff us completely and we would be done playing the one hand an orbit for the first three levels. I did manage to take down one smallish pot on the river, after the board came 3,9,3,3,x. I made a half pot raise on the river and everyone seemed to believe that I was holding “the bammer.” No action from anyone and the pot was pushed my way.

After the break I still couldn’t get anything going. The hole cards I was being dealt were just awful. Then in one of my BB’s, I woke up with a pair of Queens. These were the 3rd. and 4th. face cards I’d been dealt the entire game so far. (Earlier, I did have one hand where I played the monster Jack-king off, my first and second paint cards of the night) Despite my aggressive play of the Queens and the lack of play on the night, I of course get two callers. I seldom get credit for a hand with the group and most times, I take great enjoyment out of that fact. When the cards do manage to find me, it’s fairly easy to build a decent pot up out of a much bigger hand than they expect. On nights like these however, it just means I’m racing someone every hand I’m in. My opponents flipped up K-Q and of course, Q-Q.

When I saw paint cards #5 and 6, I was dealt the Asian-Jew. There was a push from a short stack and an instant call by brudder Carson. I needed to think. I talked it out and could only come up with a pocket pair near the middle of the deck for the initial bettor, and I had to believe Carson might have had either a top third of the deck pair, or at least a stronger ace. I decided on the stronger ace and let my A-J go. I was right about the middle pair but in Carson’s case, he was holding the Asian-Jew too. He cracked the pair after a jack fell somewhere on the board and raked in the pot, as I believe this became the first hand of the night where the pocket’s didn’t manage to come out victorious in a race.

Pocket pairs seemed to be the magic cards on the night to be honest, as pocket 3’s and 4’s both survived races against the “any-ace” army earlier on in the game. I finally got dealt my seventh and eighth paint cards about a ½ hour later, in the form of pocket Jacks. There was only one limper when it got around to me, so I made it about pot to go. Pebbles sitting directly on my left and in her big blind, bumped it up by twice the pot after a fair amount of consideration. I think this was her second actual bet of the night and we were on level 5 or thereabout. So I gave it some thought and decided to respect the bet and her lack of play earlier on in the event. I folded and so did the limper. Bad read me, as Peb’s showed me her pocket 10’s. In fairness to her, she mentioned that it was the best hand she’d seen so far on the night. They must have looked really good to her too, as she had me considering nothing less than pocket Kings. Good job Hun!

So I’m one of the short stacks at the table now and is always the way when that happens, I get dealt pocket 9’s. The real short stack at the table by this time, was Carson. He’d just committed about ½ his stack to the pot pre-flop and the action was coming around to me. I had him covered by about $1600 on top of his bet and his stack and my read was the any ace would be played in that situation. I raised to put him all in and his call was automatic. He had the Asian-Jew again and we were off to the races. Suffice it to say that I just don’t win races, and my being a Donkey by forcing his chips into the pot pre-flop, really busted my ass. I know that nothing about the hand would have changed no matter how I played it, as his stack was definitely going in on the flop no matter what came up on the board, but I got pretty worked up about playing the hand so poorly. I knew I was up against any ace and I still forced the action, rather than give myself a chance to play real poker. So, Donkey me.

This of course made for some “classic” Tuckfard chatter at the table, as someone must not have been too clear about what exactly my verbiage was all about. I kept my mouth shut and listened like a good boy for about 20 or so minutes. Then I’d just plain had enough. I didn’t like the way my thought process was headed, so I leaned over and told Peb’s I was getting out of there. I told her I was pushing blind next hand and if I lost, I was free. If I managed to win, I’d make like Vinney Vihn and let my empty chair play in my absence. I didn’t like who I was becoming and unlike past events where this exact same situation had happened, I wasn’t going to embarrass myself or the host’s of the game, by doing what was coming so easily and naturally to me. I was just going to walk away. Something I will be doing a lot more of in the future. It’s been said before and I’ll say it again. I’m always there for the good times first. When it’s not a good time, life's way too effin’ short to put up with the crap.

Anyhow, back to the walk away hand. What a scream! I pushed blind with “the Bammer.” What are the frickin’ odds on the timing of that do you suppose? Actually since it’s named after me due to the shear number of times I get dealt 9-3 off-suit, I guess in reality the odds were pretty good huh? Somehow my “Bammer” couldn’t hold up against the Jack high insta-caller, (yes! Jack high was good enough to make the call because and I quote, “Was that a Donkey play, ‘cause I put him on a move.”) and I was free of the game.

Shortly after I’d really started enjoying the night again out on the back porch at the Carsino, I saw DonKaaa heading my way. I knew it wasn’t good. “I ran the only hand I had all night pocket Kings, into Peb’s pocket Aces.” He said with a grin. “At least you got to play a hand of poker,” I said. We sat and chewed the fat and enjoyed the night together for quite some time and it was great, as it always is with the two of us. Thanks DonKaaa! You brought me back to my happy place right when I really needed it.

Peb’s busted out fourth I think and we headed back to the cave to relax. Great hosts, great dinner, great friends and my loving wife at my side the entire time. Makes me realize how insignificant the chatter and the poker during the night really were to be honest. Maybe this whole walking away from it thingy is some type of sign of maturity, I don't know. As long as it's not a sign of growing up !

My sincerest thanks for dropping by….

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