Chapter 32 | Cherokee Poker Classic | The Poker Player
If you’re offended by cuss words, don’t read the next sentence. The Cherokee Poker Classic was an absolute clusterfuck. There were barely any people there. It kind of felt like traveling three hours to go to a big rave and finding a few people hanging around in a warehouse and talking to each other. It’s also where I made a decision that changed the course of everything—not in a good way.
There is a four-way all-in on this board: 8d Qd 6h
I held Ac Qc and it was on me. If I was in full Tyler mode,
I would have called, but the original version of me slipped back in. At first,
I was going to call. Why? Because it was badass. And that’s what Tyler does,
but the other guy I was before Tyler is more conservative.
Sometimes, these two characters battle each other. When that
happens, I’m in trouble, regardless of my name. What REALLY sucked is that I
called out everyone’s hands: “You’re on a straight draw, you’re on a flush
draw, and you have top pair with a weaker kicker.”
I was right on all counts. The only reason I folded is
because it crossed my mind that one of the players could have a set and I would
be doomed. But scared money don’t win! SCARED MONEY DON’T WIN! Don’t take that
too literally because stupid money doesn’t win either.
I would have faded everything and won a massive pot on Level
5. I would have been sitting with 160,000 chips, which is crazy at that level.
I would have sat on those chips like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man sits on a
pop-tart to keep it warm. But it didn’t go that way. I failed. Everything went
south from there. I busted in Level 7.
I played a six-max event (in the Cherokee Poker Classic the
six-max was after the Monster Stack) and came across a female dealer who I’ll
refer to as T. She said, “You guys are too quiet.”
“It’s the morning,” I said.
“It’s just past twelve, It’s time to get vibrant!”
“Not feeling it right now.”
“Vibrant!”
I busted that one too. To show you how good I was running
(and walking), I walked into a super clean door at the Corner Market. When I
walked around the door and into the store, the lady working there asked, “Are
you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, “I just wanted to know what it felt like to
be a bird.”
“Bless your heart.”
In that day’s tournament, a friendly dude to my right kept
rambling on about religion. I figured there was only one way to get him to
stop, so I hit him with this: “Did you think Jesus ever hit it from the back?”
That backfired. He loved the question and verbally analyzed it from all angles. I busted that tournament as well.
Nice Shirt
Following that, I went to the Cherokee Lodge and found an employee wearing the Anytime Fitness shirt I had left there during my November visit. I said, “How’s that shirt?”
“Good,” he said.
“Nice and comfy?”
“Yeah.”
“I know. It used to be mine. I left it here last time, and
when I called, they told me they didn’t see it anywhere.”
He apologized profusely, washed the shirt, and gave it back
to me. That was a plus, but I soon found myself in yet another awkward spot.
I didn’t record much poker information for this trip, but I
do know that I lost $2700.
UPDATE:
Those two ‘people’ don’t battle anymore. Tyler won hands-down. Today, I’d call
that shit in a heartbeat.
Cherokee
Poker Classic (overall): -$2700
Profit/Loss:
+ $18,261
♠ pokerjournal.org
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