The Unispired Player

Its that story the we are all familiar with, when an online site is going to beat you it doesn’t ever seem to make it a simple beat. I mean queens losing to AK on the flop I can take, but when the flop is king, ace, king (oh yes that’s happened to me) it’s the stuff that doesn’t just crush your spine, it grinds it into a fine powder than snorts it.

Not to say that soul destroying beats never happen in live events. Recently at Crown Casino in my hometown of Melbourne, a mate and I were playing a tournament and his lofty position of chip leader was completely obliterated. Midway through the tournament I’d been moved to his table where I witnessed this horrible hand.

He was in the blinds or at least in very late position, as the action comes round to him the short stack pushes all in, that is then called by another player and action comes to my mate who pushes all in and the caller promptly calls.

As the cards are flipped the short stack shows 5c 5h, the other caller has Kc Kd and my mate Ac As. Boom, his face lights up, the other two players look shattered and the rest of the table voices approval at my mates cards. He is poised to take home the large main pot and the juicy side pot. The flop comes and while the value of the cards are unimportant the suit is, two hearts. Suddenly the pocket fives man is stirring to life, his faint hope at survival has given him voice. The turn comes, king of hearts, now the kings man is out of his seat, with the best hand he at the very least is going get that juicy side pot and survive this encounter. Though the pocket fives man is also pumped, surely the five of hearts isn’t going to drag his ass away from aces unscathed.

Unfortunately for my mate you could see it happening before the dealer flipped over the final card, the scream of delight from the pocket fives man was enough to tell you that my mate had just been thoroughly and brutal destroyed. With pocket fives man claiming the main pot and the side pot going to trip kings man, my mate looked despondent and stared down at the green felt which his once mighty chip stack had once occupied. Several hands latter in a cruel and bitter twist of fate he pushed with A8, only to run up against, you guessed it pocket aces. This time they held up and my mate was bungled out in dramatic fashion.

The moral of this story, well poker is a game of f*%$#*^ frustrations, though that being said the pocket fives man would be boring friends and family with his retelling of that hand.

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