Yesterday started out like most Wednesdays. Woke up at 6. Gym by 6:30. Work out, shower and get dressed. That’s when it became different from most Wednesdays. First, I put on a pair of shorts and T-shirt (as opposed to a suit). Second, there was an unexpected $20 bill in the right pocket of my shorts. Something told me that it was my day.
I donned the shorts and T-shirt because that particular workday because I was headed to Winstar.
I felt like Buckner walking back into Shea…
I have been chewed up and spit out at Winstar over the years. Today I planned to play $1-$2 under the assumption that the competition would be easier than my usual $2-$5 game. It was.
I played for 7 hours, from 9:30am to 4:30pm. I won some hands and ran my $200 buy-in up to $550 early on. It stayed between $450 and $550 for a long time. Then I went on a tear.
First, I called down a bluffer who fired three bullets into a pot. I won with middle pair. He said “good calls”. I agreed.
The biggest hand was at 3:10pm with my KK flopped top set, I went all-in and got called by the AKs with the nut flush draw. I was a 2:1 favorite, and the hand held up. My stack was then $970.
Another bluffer fired three bullets into the pot. I called all three bets and (again) won with middle pair. He didn’t say “good hand.” He said “you are so lucky.” I didn’t agree. Huh? How is calling down a bluffer “lucky”? That was 3:20, and my stack was now $1,100, my high-water mark.
Two deaf guys sat at our table. We tried – via signs and doing some role-playing – to explain to them that they could not sign to each other during the hand. The never got it, and they were basically speaking “Sputnik” during hands in which they were both involved. It ended up not mattering, as they busted out and left. But it was funny.
At this point, basically nothing had gone wrong all day. Every time I was favored, my hand held up. Every (both) suspected bluffs I called down were, in fact, bluffs. And my bluffs didn’t get called. Good times.
Then I got 89s on the button. I raised and got some callers. Flop came 678, one of my suit. Check, check, I bet. Call, re-raise (overbet) all-in. I thought about it and figured, “hey, I might be ahead. After all, my bet looked like a position bet. Even if I am not ahead, I have plenty o’ outs.” I call. So does the other guy, who has about $200. The turn brought the 5 and I made my straight. Guy bets and I put him all-in. He called so quickly that I didn’t need to see his cards to know that he had 9T. He flopped the straight and played me like a fiddle. I was clobbered.
I played a few more pots and cashed out $788 in chips for a profit of $588, or ~300BBs. I was pleased. The sting of that one hand wore off rather quickly.
I then drove from Thackerville to Arlington to sit in the corporate suite behind home base and throw back some beers (doesn’t my Wednesday seem like CCM’s ever day?). We played that game in which you pass around a hat and the person holding it either puts in money or takes out money based on what happens each at bat. I was holding the hat when Blalock hit the walk off HR. I walked off with the pot.
That was a very good day.