That's gonna sting

I'm just hanging out watching the tournament since I've already put my name on the list for the 1-2 no limit game. The casino is busy, as usual for a Thursday evening, and there are about fifty people in the tournament that had a fifty dollar buy-in. I'm not interested, really. I'm here for the cash game. A few other people walk in, and the list is still at about five. An Asian fellow with bright white, cheap flip-flops walks in. He gives the girl his name for the list and proceeds to wander around like nobody sees him.

I notice the one full table for the cash game loses a player. Ballsy mister white sandals thinks he can sit down and buy in before waiting his turn on the list. Hmm..I see that the dealer almost calls for chips, but the floor crew rightly catches him and corrects the near foul play. I don't like people that intentionally don't play by the rules. Noted.

I've been sitting at the table for about an hour or so, and I look down at this hand that's in the picture. I finally have something worth playing. I look up after taking a glance to see the kid cowboy two seats down go all in for $24. He had already lost a hundred bucks on the second or third hand played with pocket kings and had rebought for another Benjamin.

I am middle table, not last to act, and the Asian gunslinger on my left has yet to play. Poor kid is down and is already in, so I put him on a middle pair. Jcks or something. I've gotta call, since I have a good flush draw, too. I throw out my quarter. Gunslinger on my left quickly calls. It's just the three of us when it comes time for the flop; four, king, queen. Interesting, I say to myself. Gut shot straight draw may be worth it. Of course, Gunslinger bets fifty. Damn. Cowboy is already all in, so he isn't a factor. I say to myself I'll never win if I'm not in it, and I'll kick myself if the ten or ace comes out.

Mr. Gunslinger white-flops has been slinging chips since we all sat down to play, and has shown some carelessness. He won a hundred off the cowboy when the kid had the pocket kings earlier, but the poor dude was obviously pretty green. Gunslinger tossed chips up until now to the point where he was down a couple hundred and only had about a hundred more to bet before he'd be all-in. Of course, the next card is a seven. No help for a flush or straight, so I'm pretty safe unless he bets big.

"One hundred is the bet", says the dealer.

I say to myself, "Damn. I hate this game. Well, you're pot committed, you idiot. Now you'll go home having learned a good lesson." For some reason, I get the feeling the guy may be throwing money again just to chase me out. Inexplicably, I put in my hundred. The river comes.

"Ten".

Unbelievable. I can't believe how lucky I just got, especially when the Gunslinger turns over his pocket rockets (aces) and thinks he's won. He even reaches for the now giant pile of red chips until I say "hey, whoah".

He doesn't speak English well enough to talk in complete sentences, but he does understand "straight". He says, "Where?", only to sulk with his buddy for the next five or ten minutes while I pile my winnings in neat little stacks in front of me. I'm still in shock as I write this, but I've had my share of bad beats and bad luck, so I was due for some good luck. Poker. She can be nasty.

I lost a little of those winnings in the next hour or so because I started making stupid plays. I am getting better, but I need to get close to eliminating the "maybe this will go somewhere" hands that cost me ten or twenty a piece when I'm up for the evening. As long as I keep coming home on the plus side, it's all gravy.