It had been six weeks since we spent a Wednesday night playing poker at Soho Bar & Grill. But the way our schedule for the week turned out, we went there this week after skipping the Red Barn.
Soho is a much more competitive place to play -- with five or six tables going at once. A big early loss took away half our stack, making it look like we wouldn't survive table #1. But then a double-up came with A-K. A couple more big wins followed, including a full house from 2-2. And then....
BLINDS: 1,000/2,000
IN THE POCKET: 9-9
Only three tables remain in action. We have about 35,000 chips. Other people might push with this rather high pocket pair, but we merely call when our turn comes. No one raises.
ON THE FLOP: 10-9-9
Are you kidding me?!?!?! Quads on the flop!!! But yes -- this looks familiar, and we were burned not long ago in this position.
Yet the Big Dog Poker rules haven't changed -- you can't claim 5,000 bonus chips for quads unless the hand reaches the river. So we turn on the deadpan poker face, check and hope. About three other players in the hand check as well.
ON THE TURN: A
As we recall, a possible straight flush became impossible at this point. So we have a winner for the moment. A big-talking guy to our right bets 4,000. We look at our pocket cards carefully, in nothing more than an acting job -- then politely call. Everyone else ponders and folds, as we sip a little soda.
ON THE RIVER: 4
The man to our right thinks for a moment, then decides: "8,000."
We could have gone all-in here, to really tempt our opponent into a disastrous mistake. But we want to leave no doubt about the quad bonus -- so we say quietly, "I'll call."
"He's GOT the f**king NINE!!!" the man exclaims before we can finish counting our eight 1,000-dollar chips. He walks away from the table and halfway across the room, a bit like Phil Hellmuth on a bad day.
"Come here," we say quietly to the opponent. "I want you to see this."
After a moment of venting, he returns to the table for show-and-tell time. "I didn't have just one nine...."
"Quaaaaaads!" the rest of the table shouts. We don't. We take the pot and the bonus with a smile. Our opponent didn't show his cards, but admitted later he had A-10. (Another man noted we were downright nice, in not eliminating him. Call that another lesson of Memorial Day.)
That big gain helped us reach the final table -- something we haven't been able to do at Soho since last November. But another early exit happened there, as we went all-in pre-flop with A-K. The board didn't pair, and a man beat us with a pair of 10's. Yet we left satisfied with ninth place -- and a reminder that quads do win most of the time.
MINISTRY MOMENT: The discussion at one table turned to noisy players, and one man across from us recalled a game the week before. "I wanted to be like Kurt Cobain," he said, "and blow my brains out. I know that's a bad comparison...."
"Kurt Cobain sold his soul to the devil," someone else said.
As the discussion continued and we took the deal, we said: "It's better to be soul-ed out for God -- to give your soul to him."
The man who brought up Cobain took issue with that idea. "My soul belongs to me. It's mine."
"Who gave it to you, then?" we asked.
"My parents did."
Hmmmm -- what do you think of that explanation? Our thoughts will appear in an upcoming post.
UPDATED POKER SCOREBOARD: 69 final tables in 169 nights (40.8%) -- 11 cashes.
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