You are kidding me!

Had a very jolly (but another late) poker night last night, courtesy of Bluff and their new, rather swish, room in the Mint Casino at South Ken.

It was an industry 20 quid NLHE freezeout, so, having registered myself as a member of the club (why not) and claimed my free welcome beer, I went and said hi to friends, associates and current and ex colleagues and had a nose in the empty tournament room, where there were I think 5 tables, a little close together, but comfortable enough. I wasn't sure if all the players and their egos were going to squeeze in, though.

They had 2 cash tables in the 'front' room where the poker reg desk and little bar were and they got going sometime after 9 and were still full when I finally left at about 2am. Is a decent place, good felt, feels 'new', very nice people too from front desk to pretty blonde lady at the bar. Drinks are good value and I am in love with the toasties for a pound.

There were 38 runners, with 2000 chips, blinds were every 25 mins I think but they seemed to shoot up and we started to lose players regularly after 40mins or so, making moves with short stacks and getting beaten. I played APPAULINGLY for the first hour. Clearly not oiled enough and totally in my shell with important people on my table that I didn't want to make an arse of myself in front of, in spite of them clearly having very low expectations of the plucky girl, who was, patently to them, just there to have a go at this poker lark, possibly bought in by her boss or boyfriend etc and who clearly wouldn't play regularly again, there or anywhere else.

Grrrrrrr.

So, while I should have certainly called on a 2 pair board 2s, 9s on the turn, with A high, I made a couple of very nice lay-downs and then, having been there a while and growing in confidence, I hit 2 pair on the flop from the big blind which I had been allowed to check with 5-3. I bet 3/4 of the pot and a third of my remaining stack and got one caller, one Michael Caselli, who wasn't short of chips, confidence, chat or cheeky tongue-poking-outing. When there was a semi-blank on the turn, putting 2 diamonds and 2 hearts out there, I decided to shove, half expecting him to call - for entertainment if nothing else, even if the odds were not quite there or thereabouts. I decided, if I was to go down, I would do so hurling (non-malicious) abuse, so, in my inimitable and unladylike fashion, suggested he should 'ship em'.

Thankfully he did.

So, after the break, we're down to the last 14 or so; I am, comparitive to most, very short, mind.

I have my boss to my right; he gets busted by a former colleague of mine, Steve, in a 3-way all in which, in my humble opinion, was a silly shove in the first place with A-8 off under the gun, that got 2 callers - and a sick turn or river that gave Steve a whole bunch of chips.

I found JQ suited a couple of hands later, so shoved and was called by Steve with pocket 6s. Happy with that pre-flop and stood to get my beer and kneeled on my chair, to thankfully see the dealer award me my Jack on the turn.
So... still short, but at least some chips, now. We are now down to 1 before the final table.

I am in the small blind, it has folded round to me, with Steve in the big blind. I see 4-4 and figure I should get them in again, without messing about. The total bet is 3600, a third of Steve's stack, expecting to be racing against a decent ace, hopefully not a bigger pocket pair - or just mopping up his blind; either is good for me.

Steve says ‘call’ very casually and quickly, and throws in a couple of hundred chips and then fiddles with his cards.

Everyone looks puzzled and waits for the other 3300 to cross the line. Then he realizes I had gone all in and gets really flustered, saying all he wanted to do was check and he tries to fish his red 100 chips back out and now wants to fold. The dealer is insistent that he said call so it’s a call.

Now I am torn between trying to convince the dealer to let him fold, just in case he does catch the one half-decent card he obviously has, or seconding his decision to enforce the call, because if Steve actually has bugger all, I can get some lovely, easy, free money, just because his brain was otherwise occupied at that moment.
Then it strikes me that, of course, whatever he has, he is going to beat me because there is no God. And I say just as much out loud.

He flips over K-7 off. Flop comes K-7-5.

Needless to say, no other 4’s or straight-connecting cards appear on the turn or the river. I was steeeaaaaming. That is exactly the kind of hand that the all in is there to get rid of!! I might burst.

'Double jack and coke, please, bar-keep'.

The whole casino had heard about it (some of them twice) by the end of the night. My taxi driver had to listen to me chanter on all the way home, but, in fairness, he did ask.

Steve won the tournament eventually. Game of skill, my arse.