GONE FISHING - JUNE 2006
By: By Garrett M. of Los Angeles, CA
Having finally turned 21, the time had come for me to burn my fake ID and take a stab at the big $600 buy-in, no-limit game at my local casino. In the past, I’d been hesitant to play in this game primarily because I was underaged (my fake ID, admittedly, wasn’t all that convincing). Anyway, I’d been building up a fairly substantial bankroll over the previous six months and now I was ready to put it into action.
After about seven hours or so of play, things seemingly couldn’t get much better for me. In fact, I felt as if I couldn’t lose; the cards were consistently falling my way. My stack was up to about $5,500, and I was on top of the world. The invincible feeling continued and, eventually, I looked down at pocket kings in late position. Another player, who was sort of a maniacal fish, raised to $150 under the gun. Everyone else folded around to the player on my right, who called.
Hoping to possibly take down the pot right there, I quickly raised it to $600. The fish, whom I’d dubbed “Little Nemo,” sat and pondered for quite a while before finally announcing that he was all-in for $3,500!
The player to my right folded. After thinking it over, I concluded that it was highly unlikely Little Nemo had A-A; judging from his previous play, he surely would’ve smooth called if he’d held pocket rockets. I decided to call, and was about 90-percent sure I had the best hand pre-flop.
We flipped over our cards and, much to my relief, Little Nemo revealed pocket fives. No sooner had he shown his cards than the player to my right, who’d folded, declared, “Wow, I had pocket fives, too!”
What a sweet development for me, I was practically a shoo-in to win at this point! The flop came A-2-K (two of the cards were spades, but the flush draw was irrelevant because neither of my opponent’s fives was a spade). All I could think about was the nearly $10,000 sitting in front of me, and the possibility of gaining entry into the World Series of Poker (my dream).
I was jolted back to reality, though, by the turn card, a four. Suddenly, there was a definite lump in my throat. “No freaking way is he going to pull the inside straight,” I thought to myself. Well, you can probably guess what happened next. The entire table gasped in unison as the dealer turned over a three on the river.
As Little Nemo began raking in the big pot, he tossed me a $10 chip . . . and laughed! I desperately fought the urge to lunge at him, quietly scooped up my remaining chips, and, barely able to breathe, left the casino and headed home.
