In Big Hand

Every poker player knows about the “rush.”

Or going on a “heater.”

It happens rarely, but there are days when you catch a hand. Then another hand. And then, you slowly take control over the table. You become the force to be dealt with. You are the one with tall, rangy stacks of chips..

And so it was on a recent weekday. Just another regular day ending in “y.”

We had been fighting a little bit of a losing streak so we tried a different tactic. We bought in for twice the customary buy-in and stacked our chips high, in anticipation we might stack more even higher.

We looked at a couple of hands early such as K-J but couldn’t catch a flop. This had been going on for a few sessions. Decent hands, no coordinated flop, no help and losing pots.

We were down early and wondering about our “buy in big” when we looked at 10-9 offsuit on the button. It’s a halfway decent speculative hand so we limped along with six or seven other players. We took a casual look at the faces involved, then looked up at a baseball game on a TV monitor.

When we looked back, the flop had come down 10-9-9.

Boom. A direct hit. Somewhere deep inside us, we felt like we’d launched a small torpedo that just hit a destroyer at its weakest point.

It’s checked around to us, but we fire out a bet. There’s a call, another call. Then another, and another.

“Anyone call?” we ask politely, reprising a common poker room joke.

Light laughter ripples around the table.

The turn comes with a 7. We aren’t the least afraid of straights so we’re pleased to see the card. In fact, someone in early position bets out. When it gets to us, we make it two bets to go. Three people call and the pot is becoming huge.

We’re keenly aware that someone in this game could be holding 10-10. But we take a look at the faces, and we don’t think so.

The river comes and it’s a smallish card. It’s checked around again, and we bet again and get two callers.

“OK,” the dealer says, speculating on my hand.  “You’ve got three nines and …”

I slide over my 10-9, and he says, “Three nines … full. Full house.”

There’s some grudging respect as he pushes me the monster pot, and I give him a modest tip.

Now we can start building our chip stack.

A few hands later, we pick up 8-8 in early position. We watch as the flop comes down K-8-6.

Boom. Another torpedo zips across the waters.

We check, and a player in late position, representing the king fires away. We decided to check along, and we smile deep inside as the turn comes with another 6.

We think we’ve got the goods again, but we have watched this same player slow-play pocket kings.

But he bets and when it circles back to us, we push out a check-raise.

“Looks like another raise,” the dealer says. Two people call, and another big pot is building.

We honestly don’t remember what the last card is, but it’s inconsequential. We bet and get two callers and show another full house.

More chips are pushed our way, we tip the dealer a little more generously and we settle into a little zone where we protect our giant stack but use it to attack smaller stacks playing out of position.

Ironically, we pick up pocket aces a little bit later in a half-kill, where the stakes go up 50 percent. We didn’t see pocket aces once during our losing streak and in fact lost a nice pot to pocket aces.  The flop is a harmless Q-10-7. But the turn pairs the 10, and the river makes a flush. The other guy has the flush and our pocket rockets go up in flames, gunned down unceremoniously with plenty of black smoke in mid-air.

We wonder if the rush is in jeopardy. There’s a time when you have to cash those chips out. But we decide to pursue a little longer when two new players join the table.

In middle position, we see pocket queens and raise preflop. Undeterred, one of the new players behind us makes it three bets to go — and the player on the button calls. We’re a little unsure of the queens at this point, but we call the third bet and look down to see a flop of J-J-6.

We check and the three-bettor eyes us carefully before betting out. The guy behind him calls, and we decide to look at one more card. It’s an ace.

How do we like our pocket queens now? Not so much.

We check, but the three bettor checks and the guy behind checks.

We don’t remember what the river was, but we check again, and it’s checked along. In reverse and incorrect order, the guy on the button shows pocket treys. The three-bettor quickly turns over poker 8s. And we turn up our pocket queens to take down the pot.

“It must be your day,” a friendly woman to our right says.

We sure hope so because it’s been a long time coming.

The rest of the afternoon is largely uneventful.

On a half-kill again, an aggressive player raises with from late position. We look down on the button with the two black kings. We’re not going anywhere and think about three-betting. But we just call and the flop comes J-x-x.

She bets, we raise, and she reraises. The turn is another low card, and she bets again. OK, she could have pocket aces, pocket queens, pocket jacks. We can beat some of that, but not all of that. She could, in fact, have the two red kings.

Another low card falls on the river, and she checks. Must not be pocket jacks.

We check behind and she turns up Q-J, and our pocket kings enable us to build our stack a little higher.

Finally, the evening dealers are clocking in. We’ve doubled our double buy-in plus a little more and we begin to rack up the chips.

“Tell ’em where you got it,” the dealer says as we load the last chips into a clear-acrylic tray.

“That’s a deal,” we say.

Nothing beats going on a rush.

Nothing.

 

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