Bloggerpalooza!

I heard about Vegaspalooza from Gadzooks's blog a few weeks ago, and have had tonight marked on my calendar ever since. A bunch of poker bloggers were descending on Vegas, and a major part of the plan was a mixed game at the MGM Grand tonight. I made sure to not only be there, but to be the first on the list. In addition to making sure I got a seat, this also allowed me to establish that it would be a $2-4 game--my preference, since I accurately foresaw that the betting was going to get wild. When it's primarily for fun and bragging rights, why make it expensive?

I had never met any of these people before (except for Shamus, who showed up after his PokerNews gig ended for the day, too late to get in on the game, and really just a short time before everything broke up). I tend to be pretty awkward about meeting people, since the whole concept of "small talk" is foreign to me. But they welcomed me warmly and openly, which made me feel like the nerd on the playground who has somehow gotten the cool kids to let him join their gang.

They say you should never play poker with a man called "Doc." Well, that aphorism might extend to playing poker with a table full of poker bloggers. It makes for a crazy game. You get things like the first round of betting capped without players having looked at their cards (which is considered cheating). You get players raising in razz with K-K-J showing. You get a lot of drinking. (As usual there, though, my non-imbibing ways put me at the enormous disadvantage of having to play sober.) You get dealers who have no idea how to control the game. You get an attractive, young, female member of the contingent promising a kiss right on the mouth to anybody who hits quads. (Sadly, only her husband got this particular jackpot--which seems kind of a waste, if you know what I mean.) You get dudes kissing each other (srsly). You get arguments about who is the gayest poker blogger (this, ironically, from a couple of the people who were alluded to in the preceding sentence). You get alleged adults sounding like kids with ADD, whining that we've been playing some particular game too long, when it has only been six hands.

You can also get scintillating conversation, such as these exchanges (which, as Dave Barry would say, I swear I am not making up):

"I'm folding just on principle."

"But you have no principles."

"That's my point."

"Fair enough."

"Have you looked at your cards yet?"

"Yes."

"Oh, that's right, you showed them to me."

I had two memorable hands. One was in razz, calling a bet on the end with a J-7 low, and edging out a J-8 low. The other was when I caught the perfect card on the river in stud/8 that both filled my gutshot seven-high straight draw and made me a 6-low, for the scooper-dooper on a large three-way pot. Poker is all skill, you know.

The unfortunate part is that we really had enough people to fill two tables, but for reasons unexplained, MGM management wouldn't get a second one going. This meant that nearly half of the attendees never got to play a hand. The MGM mixed game is also a lot blander than what I've played at Treasure Island and Imperial Palace. The games were all, well, completely normal ones--no strange discards, no extra cards on the board, no passing trash, no putting a card on your forehead. Just Omaha/8, razz, straight stud, and stud/8. We even had to get special permission to replace boring ol' hold'em with Crazy Pineapple.

Most of the night's players have now moved on to the Spearmint Rhino. They politely invited me along, but I declined. Among other reasons, I wanted to be the first one to post about the game.

Now comes the hard part--trying to match names with the faces in the photos. Although I got introduced around, I didn't take very good notes, so I'm afraid that my associations of real-world names, blogosphere nicknames, and blog names got all jumbled up. There's also this problem: Some poker bloggers hide behind a pseudonym for some very good reason, such as an employment situation that would not be thrilled to learn that they are dedicated gamblers, and spend several hours a week writing about it. So even with the ones where I have a solid association of face, name, and blog, I'm a tad reluctant to make the identification here, because I don't know how fully "out" everybody is.

The one exception to this that I'm confident about is Gadzooks, since she has her photo at the top of her blog. (It was clear that everybody knew her. When she arrived, one heard a chorus of "Zooks!" reminding one of nothing so much as the "Cheers" crowd yelling "Norm!") She's standing, in a white t-shirt, in the photos above. F-Train came along after I had put the camera away, so no worries there. (Oddly enough, he and I had been spending a lot of hours this week working together on the WSOP, though several miles apart, each on our laptops, and thus never meeting in person previously).

For the rest of you degenerates, if it's OK with you for me to name names, either send me an email or put something in the comments. I'll add an addendum here later with a cross-referencing guide and pointers to those who are all right with it.

I don't have anything to say about tonight's event that will be particularly profound or meaningful to my readers. But I do have one thing to say that is important to me: Anytime you get a group such as this assembled, with some having never met others, introductions will often trigger a moment of recognition that you're shaking hands with somebody whose posts you have read and enjoyed. Just about the highest compliment you can pay to a blogger upon meeting him or her is "You're _______? Wow! I read you. Good stuff you're putting out."

To have heard words like that tonight, not from just readers, but from several others who share this strange habit of writing up our thoughts on the game we all love, was a sincere honor and thrill. It was not only a blast of fun, but greatly flattering and heartwarming to have been recognized and accepted as one of you. For that I thank you.

The Imperial Palace mixed game

I just posted about some hands from a session of mixed poker games. It occurs to me that it would probably be useful to post some more general information about it.

As I hear it, about three weeks ago Imperial Palace started hosting a weekly $3-$6 mixed game, as you can see from the photo above of the sign they now have posted in their poker room. This had apparently been discussed thoroughly over on http://www.allvegaspoker.com/, but I haven't been keeping up on the posts there carefully enough to have read about it. Word is that the mixed-game fans were lured from Treasure Island over the IP because the latter's management promised them a weekly game, a reduced $3 maximum rake, and credit for double comp hours on the players' Harrah's (I'm still not used to saying "Caesars") cards. So now it's a regular fixture.

The sign lists several games, but that's not necessarily what gets played. Below is a scan of a sheet that was being handed out, outlining no fewer than ten different games that get thrown into the blender! Some of these I had never even heard of before sitting down Sunday night--and one of them (the nutty-sounding 3-2-1 Omaha) I still haven't played, because even after a couple of hours at the table we hadn't completed the circuit, and my brain was too fried to continue.


So take this as encouragement to support IP in its effort to get a regularly scheduled low-limit mixed poker game going in Vegas. It's fun and a challenge the likes of which you'll be hard-pressed to find anywhere else in town (except on the occasions that other card rooms spread a mixed game by special request--but good luck being at the right place at the right time for that happening).

I might be a donkey

Jeff Foxworthy has made a fortune with "You might be a redneck..." observations. I don't expect to make millions, but I'd like to borrow the general idea for some tests of donkeyhood.

1. You might be a donkey if you continue betting into another player who has already shown you a hand you cannot beat.

I did this.

I had just joined the crazy mixed game at Imperial Palace Sunday night. The game of the moment was A-5 high-low triple draw. It was down to just me and one other player. After the second draw I had two pair--aces and eights (enough to make me wish I had a seat with my back to the wall*). After the betting round, my opponent mistakenly thought the hand was over, and turned over his cards for all to see. I saw that he had two pair--kings and nines. Well alrighty then! This is looking good for me! He quickly gathered his cards up again when informed that we had one more drawing round.

He stood pat--which, if I had the sense of the average boulder, should have tipped me off that that it wasn't two pair I had seen. If it had been, surely he would toss the odd card and try to hit a full house, right? I drew one. This brought stunned looks from the other players--which should have been my second clue. I didn't improve. But, of course, I felt as if I didn't need to improve, so I didn't care much. My opponent checked. I, still not having assembled the available information into a coherent picture of where things stood, bet. He called.

I had failed to see his cards clearly enough, apparently, for there had been another nine mixed somewhere among them. His position at the far end of the table, combined with me having been caught somewhat off-guard by his premature showdown, being brand-new to the table, never having played this particular poker variation, and who knows what other factors, had caused me to miss the rather significant fact that he had a full house.

Hee-haw.


2. You might be a donkey if, on the final drawing round of a triple-draw game, you have four parts of a made hand and yet stand pat.

I did this.

It was later into the mixed-game session. The game was 2-7 triple draw. I had four good low cards and a jack. We were on the last round of the hand. My opponent patted the table, and I did the same, having gotten momentarily confused about the sequence. I thought we were on a betting round, and that I was checking behind. (Checking looks a whole lot like the motion for standing pat, I now see.) I then went to remove the jack from my hand to exchange it, when the dealer pointed to my opponent, indicating that he was first to bet. Which he did.

Realizing too late that I had accidentally passed up my last chance to draw to a better hand, I mucked. There were two reasons for this. First, my jack-low wasn't likely going to be able to beat an opponent who had stood pat on both of the last drawing rounds. Second, it would have been just entirely too mortifying to show my cards at that point. So nobody else knew what I had done, until now--though anybody paying attention must have wondered why I would stand pat, then fold to a bet.

HEE-HAH!


3. You might be a donkey if you stand pat on the first betting round of a triple-draw game, and then check behind.

I did this.

We were on to baduci, which combines badugi and 2-7 triple draw. I was dealt 8-7-5-4-2, with three clubs and two hearts (as I recall--the trauma of it all may be causing some minor memory deficits--but it's pretty close). I had no idea what to do with this. Trying to make a badugi seemed out of the question, since I would have to dump either two or three cards of a decent made hand to try to get four different suits. So I abandoned that idea, and focused just on the 2-7 half of the hand. What I had was OK, but not great. It was a situation I had never faced before, having played this particular game very, very little.

It was immediately apparent to me that it would be crazy to dump my 8 and try to improve it if I had just one drawing round, because there were many more cards that would make my hand worse than ones that would make it better. But what if I'm given three consecutive draws? Suppose I decided on a strategy of mucking the 8 and whatever replaced it each time, standing pat if I ever got a card that was better? What is the probability that I'd improve by the end, versus ending up with a worse situation than I started with? That's a bit too complex for me to calculate on the fly. So I did what every other poker-playing idiot does: Nothing. That is, I decided to play completely passively. Therefore, after the first round of betting, I patted the table.

I was aware that standing pat from the outset of a triple-draw hand was an extremely unusual thing to do, and, sure enough, heads turned my way. But if that got their attention, it was nothing compared to what followed: On the betting round, it was checked to me (in obvious deference to my made monster)--and I checked behind.

I think it's safe to say that I successfully confused my opponents--perhaps almost as much as I was confusing myself.

Anyway, by the end of the hand only two of us were left in it. I finally decided to bet, just on the notion that perhaps my lone opponent had missed with his last draw. He folded.

Realizing that the other players were intensely curious what had provoked this spate of odd behavior on my part, I showed my cards, and tried to explain the dilemma I felt I had been in. The last guy to fold said (perfectly believably) that he had had a four-card badugi, but had mucked it because he had to assume that I had him beat on both sides of the hand. So, in essence, I bluffed him out of half of the pot, without really having intended to do so.

I still don't know the optimal play there. Maybe I should have tried to improve. Alternatively, maybe I should have kept my original five cards, but added to the image of having been dealt the nuts by betting and capping every street. At the time, that seemed an awfully risky way to go, though the idea did cross my mind. Instead, I chose the meek, timid, passive middle ground, neither drawing nor betting.

HEE-HAW!!!


I take some small comfort in the fact that I rarely make such boneheaded plays in my bread-and-butter game of hold'em. When I enter mixed games like this, I do so knowing that I am more likely to lose than to make money. If I break even, I'm happy. This is all a long-term learning process, and poker education necessarily costs money in the form of mistakes. I consider it an investment. I lost about $100 in the mixed game. But I had had to wait a couple of hours for a seat to open up in it, and had made considerably more than than playing hold'em while waiting, so I still ended up for the night.

A donkey can't ask for much more than that.


* That sentence may require a bit of explanation for those not steeped in poker culture. Wild Bill Hickok, it is said, habitually sat in public places with his back to a wall so that nobody could sneak up on him from behind. The one night he didn't do this, somebody--you guessed it--snuck up on him from behind and shot him dead. According to legend, he was holding two pair at the time: aces and eights.

Poker gems, #124

From Des Wilson, Ghosts at the Table, as reprinted in Poker Pro magazine, June, 2008, pp. 57-58.


But the smaller games had their producers [i.e., the bad players who attracted the professionals] too. Poker player and writer Nolan Dalla tells an amusing story about a relatively modest producer:

"I was playing in a $10-$20 stud eight-or-better game. It was played almost every day and we all knew each other. Every now and then a player everybody called Cowboy used to come in. He wore a big Stetson and always had a pocketful of money. When Cowboy was in the game it was like fish-fry. I mean, the guy just loved to play--and he played every hand. For anyone who knew what he was doing it was a bonanza. One day Cowboy finally got sick of losing. He announced he was fed up with eight-or-better and was going to another game across town where they were playing $10-$20 hold'em. The other game was due to start in half an hour and Cowboy reckoned he just had time to get there. Well, wouldn't you know it--as soon as Cowboy left, the game immediately broke up. I mean, it was more like an evacuation. You could have shouted 'fire' and the room would not have cleared any faster. Players jumped in their cars and made a mad dash across town to get seats locked up before Cowboy arrived. Three of us made it in 20 minutes. A couple of other players walked in a few minutes later. Finally, Cowboy arrived and looked at a table comprising exactly the same players he had just left. Without blinking, he said: 'I guess ya'll got tired of playing stud eight-or-better too.'"

He shoulda listened to the Grump

I have railed previously about the importance of using a card protector to prevent various misfortunes befalling one's cards. But some people won't listen (or--if you can believe this--might not even be readers of this blog!), and have to learn the hard way.

Here's another example of the problem, from today's WSOP $1,000 No-Limit Hold'em with Rebuys event, as reported in the PokerNews live updates:

Mucked and Out of Luck

Quite a commotion took place at table Blue 1 when Bill Pryor made it
950 to go from under the gun. A player in the hijack moved all in and Mark Puma,
from the button, moved all in as well for his remaining 3,000. Pryor called but
as the dealer scooped in the blinds she inadvertently mucked Puma's
cards.

"Where'd my hand go?" Puma questioned the dealer. The table seemed to
acknowledge that there was no reason for Puma's hand to be mucked and a
tournament director was immediately called over to determine the outcome of the
hand. The tournament director decided that 950 was owed to the pot from Puma's
stack but that his hand would be dead.

Pryor, who had shown his pocket aces at this point, became quite upset at
the ruling and asked for a person to appeal the decision to. The player in the
hijack showed pocket nines while the wait began for a second ruling. Pryor was
upset as he thought he should be allowed the opportunity to triple up rather
than have the other player's hand forfeited.

The new floor staff upheld the decision and the hand continued, albeit
against Pryor's wishes. The board ran 7s Qd 5h Qh Td and the player with the
pocket nines was eliminated.

As the chips were being shipped Pryor's way, Puma chuckled and said, "You
woulda lost, dude."

If Puma is on the level here (perhaps he had a queen, and would have made trips), he lost out on an enormous pot because of not taking the simple expedient of protecting his cards from accidentally being scooped up by the dealer.

The news story doesn't actually specify that his cards were unprotected, but anything else is almost unimaginable. I have never seen cards covered by a chip or other kind of protector picked up by a dealer, and if it ever happens at all, it must be exceedingly rare.

It's such a simple thing to do, and you can see that the magnitude of the problem caused by its neglect can be quite large. My guess is that Mr. Puma will decide that maybe he should change his ways. But how many more players have to learn the same thing by sad experience, instead of heeding warnings given by others who have been there?

Call of the day

As reported a few minutes ago by Gene Bromberg, live reporting for PokerNews on the $1,000 No-Limit Hold'em Rebuy event at the World Series of Poker:

Jack-High?

With the board reading 3s 2s 4h 8h 2c, Jamie Gold bet 500 and Erik
Seidel called. "Beat that!" Gold said, slapping 9d 5d for the busted straight
draw. Seidel tabled Jh Ts and took down the pot.

Wow.

Sure, it was not a huge bet. And they were still in the rebuy period. And it was Jamie Gold, who brags that he wants to be known as the best bluffer in poker, and who, as followers of GSN's "High Stakes Poker" show well know, is much more likely to bluff on the river than to value-bet it.

But still--jack high?

Wow.

Nice call, Mr. Seidel.


Addendum

Uh, never mind. Update, from the same source:

Oops

Before the break we posted a hand where Erik Seidel won a hand where he
called a bet by Jamie Gold holding Jack-high. That was wrong--Seidel had two
tens, not Jack -Ten. It's a testament to Seidel's paranormal skills that when
someone tells you that he called down a hand with Jack-high and took down the
pot, you say, "That sounds odd...but it's Erik Seidel...so anything is
possible". Still, my bad.

Poker gems, #123

Today's gem is brought to you by Dr. Pauly, whose ear and eye for offbeat stories and observations at the World Series of Poker is unrivaled by any of the big-time media covering the event:


In the hallway some guy in a LA Commerce jacket was screaming into his cellphone, "Every time beat! Every time beat! Every time beat! The river fucking hates me. I want to die."

On my non-iPod

OK, yeah, it's shmaltzy and corny, but I'm one of millions who love this music. There is little else that so intensely brings waves of childhood nostalgia for me.

I have wisps of memory of my parents taking me to see "The Sound of Music" in its original theatrical release, which was in 1965. Back in those days, movies had rolling releases over many months, rather than opening nationwide all at once, so it might have even been 1966 by the time it got to our medium-sized midwestern city. I was either 4 or 5, then. Of course, the plot completely baffled me. Nazis? Austria? Governess nuns? Why are they running away? Where's the kids' mom? Why are their clothes made out of curtains? None of it made any sense to me. Not much about the world really makes a whole lot of sense when you're that age.

I even remember that there was an intermission. When was the last time you went to a movie theater and got an intermission?

Anyway, my family had the soundtrack album, and I played it endlessly. It was hands-down my favorite record as a kid. And even now, with a slightly more refined taste in music, I don't think there's any denying that Richard Rodgers had an extraordinary gift for melody, comparable to that of Mozart, Schubert, Dvorak, or Puccini, though working in a different genre. Is it even humanly possible not to be moved by "Edelweiss," "Something Good," "Climb Ev'ry Mountain," or the title song? Furthermore, if anybody cares to challenge the assertion that Julie Andrews has the loveliest voice ever to grace Broadway or the cinema, well, let's step outside and settle it like men, OK?

The other day something I was listening to on the radio reminded me of this collection of music, and I was overtaken with an urge to hear it all again. I found an el cheapo used CD on Amazon. It arrived today, and I'm already on my fourth time through, playing it as background while I play online poker.

I have copied it to my MP3 player, and I expect that the next time I'm feeling cowed by a skilled opponent or a series of bad beats, I'll tune to "I Have Confidence" and flood my brain with this thought:

...Show them I'm worthy
And while I show them
I'll show me

So, let them bring on all their problems
I'll do better than my best
I have confidence they'll put me to the test
But I'll make them see I have confidence in me!

The Grump plays with an ancient Roman naval commander, gets sunk

You really never know who you'll run into playing online poker. Earlier this evening I was at a razz table with Pliny the Elder, who, I'll admit, I thought had died some time ago.

The most astonishing thing is that it turns out this great writer is a reader of this very blog:


Pliny, Elder: Rakewell1 - you don't happen to write a blog, do you?
Rakewell1: i do
Pliny, Elder: I enjoy it quite a bit


He certainly seemed a decent fellow. Why, when I dropped a random, unprovoked Star Trek reference, he not only didn't make a nasty comment about my geekiness, but actually knew the episode in question. Who knew the ancients were so well-informed about pop culture?! (Well, of course I would expect them to have watched and rewatched "Who Mourns for Adonais?" and "Bread and Circuses" and "Plato's Stepchildren," which are the episodes about them. But I would have guessed "The Tholian Web" to be a little beyond their range of interest.)

So you'd think that with things starting off so amicably, the Grump might get a little mercy as far as the poker goes. But no.

I won't prolong the story, but simply jump to the sad, painful end:


Dealer: Rakewell1 has Lo: 6,5,4,2,A
Dealer: Pliny, Elder has Lo: 5,4,3,2,A
Dealer: Game #17877838505: Pliny, Elder wins pot ($21.15) with Lo: 5,4,3,2,A*


Cringe. Where's the love?

However, he nearly redeemed himself in my eyes with this sympathetic response to my pain:


Rakewell1: ouch
Rakewell1: thought the A nailed it for me
Pliny, Elder: A little part of me dies inside every time a 6 gets beat


I hear you, ancient brother.


Incidentally, running into the master prompted me to run to Wikipedia to refresh my rather foggy memory of his accomplishments. I learned that among his famous aphorisms is this: "True glory consists in doing what deserves to be written; in writing what deserves to be read."

I perpetually hope that by the latter standard this humble blogger achieves a small measure of "true glory."


(Just in case it's not sufficiently obvious, the foregoing stuff about mercy is tongue-in-cheek. I do not and would not either give or expect soft-playing, whether the opponent is friend, family, or reader. It happens fairly often these days that I encounter a reader in the casinos or across the virtual felt--though usually not ones quite so elderly as Pliny. Should you find yourself in that situation, give me your best shot, because I will be doing the same, with a promise of no hard feelings however it comes out.)



*Here's the full hand history, for those few who are pathologically interested in such details:

PokerStars Game #17877838505: Razz Limit ($0.50/$1.00) - 2008/06/02 - 22:46:48 (ET)
Table 'Oppavia V' 8-max
Seat 1: aacda ($17.20 in chips)
Seat 2: nutOmatic ($50.70 in chips)
Seat 3: Pliny, Elder ($21.60 in chips)
Seat 4: fgrthodds ($19.70 in chips)
Seat 5: zendova ($5.50 in chips)
Seat 6: Rakewell1 ($20.20 in chips)
Seat 7: 00Hellmuth00 ($8.50 in chips)
Seat 8: Cshosz ($24.90 in chips)
aacda: posts the ante $0.05
nutOmatic: posts the ante $0.05
Pliny, Elder: posts the ante $0.05
fgrthodds: posts the ante $0.05
zendova: posts the ante $0.05
Rakewell1: posts the ante $0.05
00Hellmuth00: posts the ante $0.05
Cshosz: posts the ante $0.05
*** 3rd STREET ***
Dealt to aacda [8d]
Dealt to nutOmatic [5d]
Dealt to Pliny, Elder [Ad]
Dealt to fgrthodds [2h]
Dealt to zendova [Qs]
Dealt to Rakewell1 [2d 4s 5s]
Dealt to 00Hellmuth00 [6d]
Dealt to Cshosz [2s]
zendova: brings in for $0.25
Rakewell1: raises $0.25 to $0.50
00Hellmuth00: calls $0.50
Cshosz: raises $0.50 to $1
aacda: folds
nutOmatic: folds
Pliny, Elder: calls $1
fgrthodds: folds
zendova: folds
Rakewell1: raises $0.50 to $1.50
00Hellmuth00: calls $1
Cshosz: calls $0.50
Pliny, Elder: calls $0.50
*** 4th STREET ***
Dealt to Pliny, Elder [Ad] [3d]
Dealt to Rakewell1 [2d 4s 5s] [6h]
Dealt to 00Hellmuth00 [6d] [Tc]
Dealt to Cshosz [2s] [4h]
Pliny, Elder: checks
Rakewell1: bets $0.50
00Hellmuth00: calls $0.50
Cshosz: raises $0.50 to $1
Pliny, Elder: calls $1
Rakewell1: calls $0.50
00Hellmuth00: calls $0.50
*** 5th STREET ***
Dealt to Pliny, Elder [Ad 3d] [Kc]
Dealt to Rakewell1 [2d 4s 5s 6h] [Kh]
Dealt to 00Hellmuth00 [6d Tc] [7s]
Dealt to Cshosz [2s 4h] [Qc]
00Hellmuth00: checks
Cshosz: checks
Pliny, Elder: checks
Rakewell1: checks
*** 6th STREET ***
Dealt to Pliny, Elder [Ad 3d Kc] [6s]
Dealt to Rakewell1 [2d 4s 5s 6h Kh] [9s]
Dealt to 00Hellmuth00 [6d Tc 7s] [Td]
Dealt to Cshosz [2s 4h Qc] [Th]
Cshosz: checks
Pliny, Elder: bets $1
Rakewell1: calls $1
00Hellmuth00: folds
Cshosz: calls $1
*** RIVER ***
Dealt to Rakewell1 [2d 4s 5s 6h Kh 9s] [Ah]
Cshosz: checks
Pliny, Elder: bets $1
Rakewell1: raises $1 to $2
Cshosz: folds
Pliny, Elder: raises $1 to $3
Rakewell1: raises $1 to $4
Betting is capped
Pliny, Elder: calls $1
*** SHOW DOWN ***
Rakewell1: shows [2d 4s 5s 6h Kh 9s Ah] (Lo: 6,5,4,2,A)
Pliny, Elder: shows [2c 4d Ad 3d Kc 6s 5c] (Lo: 5,4,3,2,A)
Pliny, Elder collected $21.15 from pot
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $21.65 Rake $0.50
Seat 1: aacda folded on the 3rd Street (didn't bet)
Seat 2: nutOmatic folded on the 3rd Street (didn't bet)
Seat 3: Pliny, Elder showed [2c 4d Ad 3d Kc 6s 5c] and won ($21.15) with Lo: 5,4,3,2,A
Seat 4: fgrthodds folded on the 3rd Street (didn't bet)
Seat 5: zendova folded on the 3rd Street
Seat 6: Rakewell1 showed [2d 4s 5s 6h Kh 9s Ah] and lost with Lo: 6,5,4,2,A
Seat 7: 00Hellmuth00 folded on the 6th Street
Seat 8: Cshosz folded on the River

HBPRS, #4

The fourth episode of the Hard-Boiled Poker Radio Show, with, as usual, a few minutes of ranting from yours truly, is now available here.