I was playing 3-6 Texas Hold’em at my local casino recently, and, despite being dealt awful hands, managing not to lose too much money. The cards I was landing were basically unplayable. The only bright side was that when I folded, I was no doubt folding losing hands, as none of my cards were ever showing up on the flop.

Then came a hand that was seemingly as dull as the previous ones, but with a slight twist. I was dealt K-7 off suit on the big blind; nothing to get too excited about. In the meantime, though, the dealer misdealt not one but two cards — by accidentally flipping them over — to the player in the fifth position, who then received two new cards in exchange for the 7-3 off-suit cards that had been exposed.

No raises were made pre-flop (which was fine with me). A total of five players were involved in the hand, including the guy with the two new cards and me. The flop came KS-3D-7H rainbow. I was psyched! This was my first decent hand all day, and with no raises before the flop, I was golden. Being first to act (the small blind folded pre-flop), I merely checked. Sure enough, the next player bet out and the other three players called. Initially, I was going to just call, but based on my pitiful day, I decided to raise to get some value. Everyone called.

The turn card was 2C. I confidently placed a $6 bet, knowing that there were no flush possibilities for the river rats at the table. The two players sitting between the guy in seat five and me folded. Then seat-five man raised, which prompted the other remaining player to fold. Given my “poker paranoia,” which had been steadily building throughout the day, I wondered if he had tripped up. I got over that notion pretty quickly, however, and decided to re-raise in order to figure out where I was. He called instantly.

When the river came, I had to do all I could to contain my excitement. The card was the seven of diamonds, which gave me a full house. I bet, hoping my opponent would raise me again, which he did. The quickness of his raise concerned me, and I pondered whether his hand could actually top mine. It seemed highly unlikely. After all, the only cards that could possibly beat me were pocket kings, and as every serious player knows, in limit games you must raise with pocket kings to get junk hands out of the pot. So, as I reassured myself, I re-raised him. He immediately capped the pot with another re-raise. The pot was up to about $130, which would put me well ahead of where I started for the day — and would more than compensate for the patience I had shown waiting for decent cards to come my way. I called, of course, with my full boat, making my contribution to the pot $51 and leaving me with about $20 worth of chips.

When it came time to reveal our cards, I fully expected the pot to be pushed my way. I proudly flipped my K-7. My opponent then turned over his cards, very sheepishly, showing K-K. I was thoroughly disgusted, and the rest of the table reacted with wide eyes and gasps. He apologized and, although I was annoyed with the situation, I congratulated him on his hand and said I never would have put him on that hand because he didn’t raise pre-flop or on the flop. He said he felt bad and that he shouldn’t have even been in the pot, as he had 3-7 before the dealer inadvertently flipped over his cards. He commented that if he’d played those original cards — not that he would have — he’d have flopped two pair and would have stayed in to see his full house on the river.