A Tale of Three Johnnies (Part II)...

So I awaken Sunday morning, after precious few hours of sleep, in order to check out of the Mandalay Bay. (I really need to establish a goal of getting a place in Vegas at some point, so as to avoid these unnecessarily early wake-up calls…) After the standard procedure of packing and getting everything in the car, I headed back to the Mirage in an attempt to reverse my fortunes of the night before.

From my arrival at 1:00 until roughly 5:00 or so, the fates did not appear to be with me. My run of cold cards continued, and while I did not suffer any difficult beats, my hands were simply not getting there. My $500 buy-in was pretty much down to the felt, save a paltry few $5 chips (and the few hundred dollar bills that I tabled in the unlikely event I were to participate in a lucrative hand, lol…). I was resigned to booking my first Vegas weekend loss in some time – to the tune of $1,300 - and decided to play one final orbit before getting up to leave for the drive back to Los Angeles.

Then, a remarkable turn of events occurred. Under the gun (and the last hand before my planned departure), I picked up pocket aces, and managed to win a few chips against the big blind – enough for another orbit. Then, during the subsequent orbit, I picked up pocket aces again – and won more than a decent pot when I flopped trips against what I imagine was a strong ace. Back in business on Blue Star, baby…

Sitting two seats to my right was an older gentleman – a local I’ve played with before who has a very proper, composed demeanor (his beverage of choice at the table is green tea) – and who appears to have been a staple of the middle limit game for some time. My read on him wasn’t absolutely thorough, but he seemed to play the game fairly competently. He was about to become my unwitting benefactor over the course of three hands – including one truly remarkable hand – that we played together in the space of roughly one hour.

On the first, Green Tea was in late position, while I was in the blinds with pocket 9s. I don't recall the specific preflop betting; I just remember that he had either raised or reraised - and the flop came a king with two rags. He bet the flop and turn in position, and I simply smooth called both. Although I thought he likely had a king, I also thought he might be capable of betting through with air, so my nines might be good. When the river came an ace, I led out, representing that I had paired it... and he said something like "you made your blackjack, huh?", and reluctantly folded what I think was a king... or, perhaps, a pocket pair better than my nines. I did not reveal my hand.

On the second, Green Tea had open-raised from late position, and I three-bet him with pocket 6s on the button to isolate. The flop came A-2-2; he checked and I bet. The way he called, I figured he had an ace and wasn't going anywhere, and was likely looking to set up a check-raise on the turn. So I just checked the turn behind him, with the intention of calling the river. Lo and behold, the river came a sweet, beautiful 6, giving me a boat... Green Tea led out, and I raised him, getting the crying river call – with my contrite proclamation of how lucky I had just gotten. This time he was more visibly upset, thinking he had just been rivered twice in a row.

Then came THE hand, one I probably won’t forget for some time.

I was in early position with pocket jacks. I raised and got three callers in the mid and late positions, with both the small blind and Green Tea in the big blind accommodating my request for elevated stakes. Six players at this point, with $120 in the pot.

The flop came KJ6 rainbow, giving me a sweet middle set. The blinds checked to me, and I bet; everyone called except for Green Tea, who then raised out of the big blind. I simply called in an attempt to retain my customers, and everyone behind complied - so we still had six players, with $240 in the pot.

The turn is the case jack – oh, baby. The mortal nuts, unless Green Tea is sitting on pocket cowboys. I had anticipated a continuation bet from Green Tea, in which case I would have simply called to encourage continued participation from those behind who were drawing dead. However, he checked, which could have indicated a strong hand on GT’s behalf – a set becoming a boat – but it could have also indicated a relatively weak hand (KQ, K6s, etc.) and the realization that one of the five players behind him was likely holding a third jack. Regardless of his rationale for checking, I couldn’t run the risk of the field checking behind me, so I bet - and everyone folded, except for GT, who check-raised me. Ah yes, the boat. With no-one else remaining in the hand, I reraised, and GT called – resulting in a current pot of $360.

The river put another 6 on the board. Could it be? Could he have had sixes full on the turn? GT bet, I raised, GT reraised, I reraised... and at the Mirage, at least, there's no limit to the betting in a limit game once it gets heads-up. So GT continued to reraise until he was out of his table stakes - which, unfortunately, was only about $160 more after the turn. So, we each got about another $160 in on the river, making for a total pot of roughly $700. Obviously, he had quad 6s.

Quads over quads, the poor guy. He thought he finally had me. I had no idea what to say, so I muttered something like “Wow, that was absolutely brutal” in as sympathetic a voice as I could possibly muster at that point. To his credit, Green Tea simply stood up, tossed his lone remaining $1 chip to the dealer as a tip, and walked away from the table without saying a word.

In stacking Green Tea’s chips, it became clear to me that, with the preceding hands (as well as a few other wins interspersed throughout), I had recovered about $1,200 of my previous $1,300 deficit – all in the space of about a couple of hours. It wasn’t too long before I had pulled ahead for the trip by a modest amount – but unfortunately, I was so giddy that I thought, LA be damned, it’s time to start ordering Sammy’s and playing some cards!

Yeah, well… in going on reverse tilt, as it were, my overconfidence resulted in a significant loosening of my opening hand standards, in connection with my repeatedly mixing it up with a couple of solid locals in attempts to steal what were ultimately unstealable pots. Given a return to prior form of my dearth of preferable holdings, I ended up giving back a few hundred before departing at about 11:30 for smoggier and more plasticine pastures… but I was eminently satisfied with my recovery, when all was said and done. I had been winning at the rate of 3BBs per hour over the course of the last several trips, which is, I would think, tough (if not impossible) to sustain over the long haul – so I was realistically due for a loss. But the final result was, at the very least, much better than dropping $1,300…