Embrace Your Inner Weirdo

I have no idea what the golf connection is with this but there’s gotta be one in here somewhere…

A few years ago when I was still living in Vegas I was bored and restless one night and wandered down the street to Red Rock to play poker for a while. Like 11:00 on a Wed or something and they had one $2-5 no limit game going and one seat open. Buy in 400-1000 so I bought a rack o’ red and sat down. First thing I noticed was an Asian guy with four full racks in front of him, bills coming out from underneath, at least a dozen blacks in front of that and three empty Heineken bottles behind the racks. Needless to say I was intrigued so I pulled out another nickel in bills. You know just in case… Next thing I noticed was no one was talking at all so I started rambling for no particular rhyme or reason.

FF about 20 min and the score is everybody’s pissed that the Heineken guy sucks is playing everything and has been running over the whole table for hours so everybody’s stuck chasing and p laying everything now too.And this is different than every other night like not at all. So now I’m the BB , Heineken is second to act raises to 20 if course and it goes call call call all around the table all the way back to me with only one fold out of seven guys. This kind of shit always drives me crazy because one of these guys ALWAYS has a a big pair, thinks he’s trapping but is really setting up just a disaster. This always gets ugly and fast. I look down at Q2 off and there’s already almost 200 in there with 15 to call. I announced, “I guess I’m not folding”, Chuck out the 3 reds and the dealer collects the pot. Out of nowhere as the dealer peels off the burn I yell DEUCE just because… Flop 2-Q-2 rainbow… Even the dealer snaps his head at me, small blind checks & I say ‘That means I should probably bet something here…’ $40, fold, Heineken calls and so do three others. Turn A heart, two hearts now. Now I can bet whatever the hell I want and nobody knows what the score is, a heart draw has to call with a million in the pot and its glory if they get there and the guy who spiked his ace is donating too. Bet sixty now to look weak and lost in space praying someone on my left declares and raises. No luck there but everyone calls. River black 10. No flush no straight avail. I check like I’m screwed and dug myself a big fat hole like an idiot and Heineken bets 100… He got a big fat piece of something but it ain’t no pocket 10s this time so I got him but good. One caller prob AJ crying back to me and I raise the min just to tweak him, this ain’t over… All in… AJ runs and TYVM I call. He’s got Doyle Brunson and filled up it up on the end. After flipping the dealer a half there was still way over 2500 in the pot and when I turned over the Q2 the entire table stood up like they’d seen a ghost. The guy to my left went Tourettes with a stammer, ‘Been s-sitting this goddamn table ten hours, t-this SOB sits 20 m-min y-yells Deuce f-flops f-f-f-boat. I’m goin home…’

The point of this totally meaningless story is that it woulda been funny even if it wasn’t me, not as funny of course but it never woulda happened if I wasn’t being a nut and yelled DEUCE as the flop was coming out. Weirdness on occasion has its privileges, there has to be a golf analogy in there somewhere… As a conclusion that was the best session I ever had in that room, I broke the table in just over an hour and took every dime off of Heineken to boot, 4300 to the plus on a 2-5 game. If it was only that easy…

I know where the connection is and how I’m going to use it: I’m yelling birdie ever time I putt this up coming Sunday just to see how things work out. :wink: Maybe I’ll make 'em all, maybe not. However, it’ll be unnerving to my playing partners and what more can you ask for amongst friends.

Captain Chaos

Don’t yell birdie. The correct saying is TWEET TWEET.