What simply has to be my favorite poker story of all time originates from last years' Station Classic. My father was visiting from overseas, and I'd managed to pique his interest in a high stakes game, as he was having a bad run with blackjack and craps. We were seated at opposite ends of the same table. Now, my father is not a cheater...collusion would never cross his mind. But there are a lot of things that do not cross my father's mind. Don't get me wrong...the man has a Degree for every day of the week, but he tends to be somewhat obtuse, and even self-involved at times. Now, being so close to the US border, we get alot of Southerners attending our tournaments, and there happened to be the most stereotypical mark sitting next to my father...ten gallon hat, chaw in cheek, and hundreds falling out his back pocket. It was from a Lynch film. Easy pickings, pigeon, and patsy rolled into one. After many a heinous hand, I'm sitting on pocket Queens, and start building the pot. A few hopefuls stay in to see the flop, including old "Lucky." The flop comes 3-Q-K (rainbow) and I'm doing all I can to keep from peeing my pants. Then started the feud...the old codger wouldn't raise, but called everything. Please keep in mind that I've seen this guy play 2-7 suited more aggressive than one would a pair of aces...I knew he wasn't simply inviting action...all I can assume is that he's tilting after being knocked out of the tourney, and has the money to play any damned hand he feels like. And then, for some ungodly reason, I see him lean over and show my father his hand at 4th street. How the dealer missed it, I'll never know, but come 5th, my father is humming away...a Christmas Carol, of all things...and then it hit me..."We Three Kings" were going to kick those Ladies' asses; classic Brunson/Reese. I backed out of the hand as gracefully as I could, and thankfully, he showed 'em, in all their glory. No one at the table, including old "Hickory," noticed my father's tune...including my dad. He swears to this day that I'm making it all up. I think my dad finally gave up on poker. He had a tell or two.
Monday, February 5, 2007
We Three Kings
What simply has to be my favorite poker story of all time originates from last years' Station Classic. My father was visiting from overseas, and I'd managed to pique his interest in a high stakes game, as he was having a bad run with blackjack and craps. We were seated at opposite ends of the same table. Now, my father is not a cheater...collusion would never cross his mind. But there are a lot of things that do not cross my father's mind. Don't get me wrong...the man has a Degree for every day of the week, but he tends to be somewhat obtuse, and even self-involved at times. Now, being so close to the US border, we get alot of Southerners attending our tournaments, and there happened to be the most stereotypical mark sitting next to my father...ten gallon hat, chaw in cheek, and hundreds falling out his back pocket. It was from a Lynch film. Easy pickings, pigeon, and patsy rolled into one. After many a heinous hand, I'm sitting on pocket Queens, and start building the pot. A few hopefuls stay in to see the flop, including old "Lucky." The flop comes 3-Q-K (rainbow) and I'm doing all I can to keep from peeing my pants. Then started the feud...the old codger wouldn't raise, but called everything. Please keep in mind that I've seen this guy play 2-7 suited more aggressive than one would a pair of aces...I knew he wasn't simply inviting action...all I can assume is that he's tilting after being knocked out of the tourney, and has the money to play any damned hand he feels like. And then, for some ungodly reason, I see him lean over and show my father his hand at 4th street. How the dealer missed it, I'll never know, but come 5th, my father is humming away...a Christmas Carol, of all things...and then it hit me..."We Three Kings" were going to kick those Ladies' asses; classic Brunson/Reese. I backed out of the hand as gracefully as I could, and thankfully, he showed 'em, in all their glory. No one at the table, including old "Hickory," noticed my father's tune...including my dad. He swears to this day that I'm making it all up. I think my dad finally gave up on poker. He had a tell or two.
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1 comment:
Great storey lol was good meeting you last evening at the ps tournie was great to see you kept in there for a payday.i made 3rd lol anyway hoipe to see or hear from you again you seem very nice and cool(not a sask temp joke lol)if you so desire i can be reached at ardaine@netscape.net or msn at billywhalley@hotmail.com
gl on your texas move or just cu at the tables
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