I recently played in my first big buy-in tournament — a $100 affair at an underground poker room in my hometown — and it was a truly unforgettable experience. Just to gain entry into this covert operation, you had to know someone (or know someone who knows someone), so I felt pretty fortunate merely to be admitted. About 50 players, scattered among five tables, were participating in the tournament, and the top five finishers were to be paid. Five-minute breaks were scheduled every hour or so in order for us to stretch, eat, drink, and, of course, share bad beat stories. 

Players started getting eliminated soon after the first break. By the time the third break rolled around, we had our final table of 10 players. We drew seats and I ended up sitting to the left of a guy who basically raised whenever he was dealt an ace. I figured this to be a fortuitous position for me.

When the field had been whittled down to eight, we noticed that the ninth-place finisher happened to leave a huge crease on a particular card when he left. We decided to toss the deck. After grabbing some cards from another table, and counting to make sure there were 52, play resumed.

As the big blind, I was dealt QC-9C. There were calls all around and I checked. The flop came 10C-JC-KC. I really couldn’t believe my luck; I mean, flopping a straight flush! I tried to suppress my abundant confidence and bet about a quarter of the pot. One player called and then, much to my delight, the guy to my right raised. I called and the initial caller folded.

The turn produced the three of clubs, which was a great card for me. It meant that my opponent had likely hit his ace-high flush, thus enabling me to take most, if not all, of his chips. He decided to bet half the pot; I tripled his bet. And then the sweet words I was dying to hear came from his mouth: “All-in!” I interrupted my tournament-winner acceptance speech, which was already formulating in my brain, long enough to declare, “I call. I’ve got the nuts — straight flush, nine to king.”

I was completely taken aback by his reply. “That’s not the nuts,” he said. “I’ve got a royal flush!” He then proceeded to turn over AC-QC. After several seconds of Twilight Zone-like unreality, we realized that there were two queens of clubs in the deck. Because the cards had been taken from another table, and had obviously been tampered with, we had no choice but to call off the tournament and return the buy-ins to each player. Considering that $5 of the buy-in went toward food and booze, not one player left the tournament up money. In fact, all 50 players lost $5 and played poker for no prize.

As a consolation prize of sorts, though, the remaining players decided to sit at the bar and drink until our $5 fee was well spent.