The Stink Twins and a Suited Pair

I realize that I just started this blog thingy just yesterday, but you should all be aware by now of the empahsis my weekly poker game has on my life. I mean, I did mention it as one of the things you are sure to see me blab on about from time to time. Well, now is one of those times.

First, a little intro. A core group of friends started playing Texas Hold'Em together about 4 years ago (I'd like to think before the big craze hit). We would only play once every 3 weeks I think, and we would try to rotate around to different houses so no one person was over-burdened with hosting duties. This core group started with about 6 people, and gradually expanded to about 10 or 11 by last year at this time. Then the "SkankHouse" was born. I will leave the story of the SkankHouse for another time (BIG tangent), but just understand that it gave us a chance to play every week without debating who will host. It also let us increase the amount of players, which is where this particular story comes in. Once we had space to add players, several members of the group invited some "tangent" players (like that?). Some of these new players invited a few others. So, now we have a semi-regular stable of players that hovers around 20-25 on most weeks.

Now, we were once told by a newcomer that ours was the most "Christian" poker game he had ever been to. This is not to say that the loser of a hand must read a Bible verse, or that if you were caught in a bluff it was grounds for expulsion from the game and you were damned to hell for at least a decade. This newbie was simply noting that there was no smoking of any kind inside, and that 90% of the players were drinking nothing harder than bottled water and the occassional generic black cherry soda from Safeway.

Some of these new players have not yet caught on to our clean-living ways. Some show up with six packs of tasty, spendy micro-brews. Some arrive lugging suitcases of what is considered to be the monarchy of barley pops, and a couple just walk in gripping a couple 40oz. "tallboys" of what I consider to be cold, fermented urine. These are the two guys I get stuck sitting between later in the game. I now call them the Stink Twins.

These are two VERY tangent players that just started playing with us about a month ago. They are loose friends of friends of friends. Both show up every week half-pickled and half-baked (mmmmmmmmmmmm baked pickles). Both bring nasty, smelly dip cups to the table. Both are big talkers. Stinky 1 blabs about how he plays poker "up the hill" in Black Hawk 3 or 4 times a week and 5 games at a time online. Tonight, however, he has added the topic of how much seafood he ate before coming to play. Stinky 2 is always just so happy and polite to the point of being obsequious, and he has the habit of making a little mumbled comment at every flip of a card.

Be warned, here is where the poker geek talk may start.
http://www.blackjack-strategycard.com/poker_terminology.htm

OK, so it is late in the tournament. We have gone from two full tables to one table with about 5 players left. The top 4 will get paid from the overall pot of buy-ins. Stinky 1 has just gotten knocked out but doesn't use the oppportunity to be quiet and let the remaining players compete in peace. Instead, he decides to taunt his just-as-drunk buddy by letting loose some pungent seafood and beer farts and wave them at Stinky 2. Remember, I AM BETWEEN THEM. Stinky 2 is just too drunk or into his game (doubtful) to notice or care. He also doesn't notice the little beer burps that keep escaping his lips as he continues his own form of rambling. It just seems that they keep escaping when he turns in my direction. So, while the space behind me smells like a porta-potty, the area in front of me smells like a dumpster of rotten pizza. Still I trudge on.

In the midst of this noxious cloud there still the rages the "Battle of the Bubble." On the way from 9 players to 5, I was able to build up my measly stack from being short-stacked to about middle. As I said, we have 5 players left. They include myself and 2 other "core" members, 1 second-tier member, and Stinky 2, who I consider to be about tier 5 or 6 (the tiers refer to their degree of separation from the core group, not their playing ability). When one more person gets knocked out everyone remaining will be "in-the-money" and at least get their buy-in back, if not more.

So Stinky 2 is dealing and I am the small blind. "Holy Sheet" (the nickname for a good friend and core member) is first to act and goes all-in pre-flop. "T-Bone" folds, as does Stinky 2. I take a peek at my hole cards and see a pair of Jacks, so I call the all-in (I still have some chips leftover). The big blind folds so it is now heads-up and HS and I flip our cards. He has 77 against my JJ. Now Stinky 2 has to wake up and deal the community cards. The first card Stinky 2 shows for the flop is a 7, followed by a Queen and I think a 4. Everyone howls and I think I am about to take a beating. Next another Q. On the turn, Stinky 2 shows another J, which would mean I win with a full house of 3 Js and 2 Qs. I am about to joyfully rake my money when one of the players who is already out looks at all the cards and says "Hey, why is there a suited pair of 7s?".

Sure enough, Holy Sheet had a 7 of hearts in his hand and another on the board. It then became apparent that Stinky 2 had been dealing the community cards from the deck that I had just finished shuffling for the next hand. NOT the one we were playing this hand with. In a sign of true friendship, Stinky 1 starts yelling at #2 "You fu¢#ing idiot!! What a moron!!" and commences another round of fart-waving. We promptly re-play the flop-river with the right deck and I take it legitimately with a 10-A straight. I made it on to take 3rd in the tourney, with Stinky 2 stumbling his way into second. Grrrrrr.

Next week I bring the filtered breathing mask I used to clean the asbestos out of my basement and I load up twice as much on the pre-poker meal of bean burritos, so I have some ammo of my own.

I realize this is a VERY anti-climactic post. So much build-up with nothing for a payoff. I am sorry, but that is what Tangent Boy does. Maybe tomorrow I will talk about pizza. I love pizza.

G