The gambler in me that gets so pissed at others sucking out is the same gambler in me that dorkily sings out loud “We Are the Champions” while putting a bad beat on someone else.
And I say, after all the beats I’ve been seeing the past few weeks, it’s high time the poker gods evened the score. Poker Tracker says my pocket Aces are holding up only 67 percent of the time in cash games, so I damn well better pull some miracles out of my ass in other hands.
These miracles came a day apart.
The first was a $55+5 SnG on Poker Stars.
Eight people left at T50/100 and I’m low on chips (under 10x blinds).
UTG, I push with AQo and someone goes over the top to isolate. Everyone else folds.
He has AKs, putting him at a 74 percent favorite.
The flop is K-8-2 of clubs. I glance at my cards to see if one might be a club. Nope. Now he’s a 94 percent favorite.
Turn is a Q of no clubs. That drops any chance of a suited tie, and he bumps up to 95 percent.
I yell loudly for a Queen, and the river is that wonderful two-outer.
I start to hear Queen’s “We Are the Champions” and discover it’s coming from my mouth, badly out of tune.
I double up to put me at slightly above table average. Still at eight people, that bit of luck is enough to propel me to win the whole thing. If I didn’t, the beat would’ve been for naught.
The second was a $55+5 SnG on Full Tilt.
We’re three-handed and I’m second in chips but just barely. At least I’ve cashed, I think, but I always want first place and would trade several bubble finishes for several firsts.
On the Button, I push with A9s.
SB calls. BB folds to watch the fireworks.
SB has JJ. He’s a 68 percent favorite, and I have a fighting chance — any of my suit or any Ace.
The flop doesn’t even give me the hope at runnering the flush when it puts out three mismatched 8s (not that it would’ve mattered anyway, what with him flopping a boat and all). He’s 82 percent ahead.
I start chanting “Ace! Ace! Ace!”
Turn gives a 10. 91 percent.
Three outs now, though I don’t even count on the last 8 in the deck.
That’s double the outs I had in the Full Tilt suckout. In a slot machine bonus round when you’re presented with 11 treasure chests to pick from and one contains “Award All,” the odds of picking that chest is the same odds as getting any of my four outs.
I’ve picked “Award All” before, surely I can pull out one of four cards.
And there it is on the river. Not an Ace, but the even lovelier case 8.
Unlike my Stars opponent who said, “wow,” this opponent just leaves quietly, most likely in disgust or to go write about it, bemoan his bad luck, and post screenshots on his blog.
After a lengthy 5-minute battle heads-up with the other guy, I don’t let the poker gods down and use what they gave me to win this one too.
I’m not playing any more today, riding high on the two wins that capped a winning weekend that made up for last weekend.
And all from two lucky hands that I should’ve lost, had the treasure chest picked not shown “Award All.”
And oh does it feel oh so good.
