The vision thing

I was playing at the Venetian earlier this evening. I had been there about 30 minutes when I found 3-3 in second position. I became one of six limpers. Flop was K-7-3, which I rather liked. Guy to my right bet $10. I called. I didn't raise, hoping to draw others in; besides, the bettor here was probably the least experienced player at the table (didn't know what a straddle was, didn't know if he could add more chips to his stack, etc.), and he had shown some tendency to run away if he ran into resistance. Everybody else folded.

Turn was an 8. He bet $10 again. I raised to $30. To my surprise, after just a couple of seconds he motioned all-in and pushed his stacks forward. He had me covered. I had not seen him all-in previously, so he clearly liked his hand. I dreaded that I had walked into a set-over-set trap, but I called anyway. He didn't flip his hand, so I didn't either. River was a deuce. At that point he turned his cards up. I did the same before I had had a chance for his to register.

Yep. Pocket 8s. He had turned it. Sigh. Welcome to my world. I let off a little grimace and eye roll.

Then the guy said, "Nice hand." I hate it when people do that. Whether they intend it or not, saying that to the loser always sounds to me like, "Pretty good second-best hand you have there, chump!" I didn't respond.

But at just the same time, the dealer pulled our cards out where she and the rest of the table could see them better, and said, "Two pair, sevens and eights. Set of threes."

I looked again. Sure enough. He had 8-7 in the hole, not 8-8. Whew!

It's been four years since I last had my glasses prescription checked. It might be time again.