I was also surprised to find out that there would be a first-place cash prize of $200. Second place would get a T-shirt, and that would be the extent of the prizes. Each player would start with $2,000 in chips with blinds at $25-$50 and levels at 30 minutes each. This seemed like a fairly decent structure for a freeroll. There were seven tables with poker tops on them, and each one had composite chips and new cards. We had two decks per table and you dealt your own. So far, I was impressed. From a purely economical point of view, it would still not make any sense for me to play. Even if I was to win, $200 for an entire night of poker was not a good use of my time. Plus, no matter how bad the play was, there are no guarantees in poker. Even a blind squirrel will occasionally find the nuts. However, I was here to have a good time and to see how good or bad the play would be. I was half expecting the worst and half hoping for some good play.
I found my table and sat down a few minutes before 8:00. One lady had already been there for quite some time stacking, counting, and re-stacking her chips. Maybe she was a ringer. Soon, everyone else sat down, and right at eight o’clock sharp, the cards were in the air. The first hand just about everyone limped in loose and passive. I had Q-J suited in late position and decided to limp in as well until I could get a real feel for the game. The flop came 5♦-7♦-9♦. One player bet out $100 and there were two callers. I folded. The turn brought a blank, and again the same player bet out (this time $200), and there were two more callers. The river brought the 10 of diamonds and the same original player bet out. This time he bet $500. One player folded and the lady who first sat down called. The first player proudly turned over his J-8 (neither was a diamond) for a straight and began to scoop the pot. The lady turned over the 6-8 for a straight flush. She had flopped the stone-cold nuts. However, it appeared that she had no idea whether she had won or lost the hand. (So much for her being a ringer.) A couple of players quickly pointed out that she had a flush. I pointed out that she actually had a straight flush. Everyone looked at me as if I had two heads and then looked back at the board. After what seemed like a few minutes, this obnoxious guy at the table pointed out (in a manner that was meant to convey that he would be the final voice on all matters at this table) that the lady did indeed have a straight flush. I could tell that this was going to be a long night.
Since it appeared that there were quite a few regulars at the table, I decided to keep a low profile and not intercede unless absolutely necessary. It soon became apparent that I had entered some sort of alternative poker universe. Players were calling off their chips with low pair or ace high. And this was on the river! Everyone seemed to be having an extremely difficult time reading the board. After a showdown, more often than not, I had to explain who won the hand and why. For instance, one player could not understand why his pocket sixes were no good with a final board of Q-Q-8-10-10. He was convinced his hand was better than his opponent’s A-4. You see, since there were two pair on the board, he only had a six kicker to his opponent’s ace.
My plan for keeping a low profile was becoming more and more difficult. I had to choose what to correct. I chose to ignore string bets and raises below the minimum. However, I had to introduce the concept of a side pot. Apparently, they had been playing that a short stacked player who was all-in was eligible for the entire pot. On the other hand, I chose to ignore the obnoxious player’s habit of shorting the pot. If it was $200 to him, he would somehow manage to put in only $100. I could not ignore, however, his attempt to cheat me.
For the most part, I played tight because I was more interested in observing. In addition, whenever I had a hand, I was sure to get plenty of action. Well, after a few hours of play, the lady without a clue and Mr. Obnoxious were the clear chip leaders at the table. Mr. Obnoxious was winning due to his cheating ways, and the lady without a clue was calling down every other hand and winning most of them. It was impossible to put her on a hand since she herself had no idea what she had. The only time she knew what she had was when she had a set of tens against my straight. Of course, she thought her set was good—which set off a few minutes of discussion before Mr. Obnoxious in his infinite wisdom “declared” me the winner.
Then the following hand came up. I was in the big blind and Mr. Obnoxious was in the small blind. The lady without a clue and Mr. Obnoxious called, I checked my blind, and we saw a flop three handed. I had 5-6, and the flop came 4-8-J rainbow, giving me a gutshot straight draw. Mr. Obnoxious checked, I checked, and the lady without a clue checked. Then Mr. Obnoxious bet. Huh? That’s right. He bet once he knew that we were both going to check. Of course, I objected, but he insisted that he had never checked. So I folded, the lady without a clue called, and wouldn’t you know it, the 7 rolled off the turn that would’ve completed my gutshot. Mr. Obnoxious continued to bet heavily, and the lady without a clue continued to call. I would’ve won a huge pot. Even though I was there to observe, my competitive juices took over at that point. It was on. I took off my journalist hat and put on my poker hat.
Either Mr. Obnoxious was gone or I was gone. Since I had position on him, I waited for my next playable hand. A short while later, he open raised for about five times the big blind. I found A-K and raised enough, I hoped, to isolate him and keep him in the pot. Well, the player behind me re-raised all-in. Mr. Obnoxious called and shorted the pot. I called as well, but this time I pointed out Mr. Obnoxious’s shortcomings. He got real snotty, but fortunately the other player saw it as well. I stayed calm, and just said, “Let’s count the pot and see.” Apparently, this was something that had never occurred to Mr. Obnoxious because he quickly became twitchy and decided on his own that he had put in the wrong color chip by mistake.
Just as I hoped, Mr. Obnoxious turned over K-8 off-suit, although the other player had pocket rockets (poker slang for two aces). I was drawing extremely thin and never improved. I was happy to give my chips to the other player, though. And as a special parting gift, I informed the table that Mr. Obnoxious had been shorting the pot all night.
Lessons Learned
It’s never a good idea to take anything personally at the poker table. Stay emotionally detached. This was a freeroll, and I was there for fun and observation. But still, I had not decided to start playing serious poker until I was already steamed. No matter what the setting, if you are going to play, you should play to win. Bad habits can form from the most innocent of sources. You play for fun one day, and then the next time you are playing seriously, you find yourself playing way too many fun hands.
The biggest lesson I learned from this excursion is that it is not my job to police the table. While I tried to show a lot of restraint here, I could not help myself from correcting a lot of mistakes even when I was not involved in the action. Granted, the players’ understanding in this instance was particularly horrendous. However, I realized that my personality type is to want to arbitrate and get involved over disputes when I feel strongly that one party is being wronged. I never really thought that there was anything wrong with doing that.
The problem is that playing referee can be a big distraction. My job at the poker table is to be as focused as possible. I want to observe everyone as much as I possibly can. If I am part of the action, I cannot be focusing. Disputes do come up at the poker table quite frequently. Many players wear their emotions on their sleeves and tempers can sometimes flare. If I get involved, I cannot be observing these players at this critical time. More important, though, is that I run a huge risk of upsetting my emotional even keel.
It’s hard enough to maintain composure and discipline over a long period when the cards can wreak havoc on your game. Why make things harder by raising your blood pressure needlessly? Even if I am trying to maintain order by interceding, someone is bound to get upset and direct his anger toward me. I don’t need that extra stress. If people want to fight, let