Thanksgiving in Vegas

Of course I live in one of two poker hot-spots in the United States - Los Angeles, with more card rooms than any other city but one. I rarely if ever venture out to play when at home, but when I visit my in-laws (say around holiday time) I find myself in the other poker Mecca - Vegas (baby!).

The Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, we ventured out to the closest casino to my mother in-law's home, Santa Fe Station. Certainly it wouldn't be my first choice, but it turns out that they (along with most casinos in Vegas) have expanded their poker room, so I had no problem finding a seat at the 2-4 limit table.

Now a 2-4 limit hold-em table is basically, almost always, a fishbowl of calling stations and weak play. And with a monstrous rake, it's a very difficult place to turn any kind of profit. When I play at one of these tables, I look at it basically as a chance to gamble and have fun playing the game I love. I've always cast one eye longingly at the 1-2 No Limit tables, but I know a c-note can vanish in the blink of an eye over there, and these days I'm not made of Benjamins.

So I sit down and look down at AQ suited UTG. I fold. I have to see who I'm up against before I hand over my chips. Call, call, call, call, call and call. An 8 player pot. Okay, these folks are just a bit on the passive side. Just a bit.

I just watched over the next half hour, and saw that any raise pre-flop was basically called down by everyone (a pre-flop raise here was really just a pot sweetener, there was no getting rid of limpers.) I decide to take the plunge with A J os in middle position. Board came ragged, Jxx. I knew I was probably going to get boned, but I raised the aggressive old codger on my right anyway.

To my shock, the rest of the table remembered that I hadn't played a hand yet, and they all folded - except for the codger who called. The turn was another blank, he checked, I fired. He paused for awhile, and called of course. The river hit, allowing for a very remote possibility of a straight. The codger bet. I called. He turned over middle pair. My TPTK took it down.

I don't know why, but live play always gets my heart rate up and puts my stomach in knots. Probably because I don't play that often, but my instincts in this hand - and for the remaining hour and a half that we had allotted to stay (my wife plays the machines, with a HUGE negative EV, so we try to keep our casino trips to under 3 hours) were spot on.

The codger, I began to realize, was LITERALLY playing every single hand. For over two hours, he did this. I kid you not. I managed to win several mid to large size pots over the remainder of the night (including a beautiful set of nines that turned into a bigger full house than what another player had), and finish up over $60. Now that doesn't sound like much, but considering it was only a 2 hour session of ultra-passive, ultra-weak, ultra-low stakes - I impressed even myself.

The hand of the night involved, you guessed it, me and the codger. Once again he was to my right; for once he raised pre-flop. I looked down at Q6 suited. Not really worth playing, but I was in middle position, and the play du jour seemed to be to passively limp and hope to hit something. To my shock, everyone to my left folded, leaving me on the de-facto button. The SB limped in and the BB checked.

Now it's important here to point out, that I had put this codger on cards. I had seen him raise pre-flop four or five times by this point, he always had some marginally strong hand such as AQos or a middle-pair. One time he woke up with KK, and just called, all the way down to the river, where he let himself get drawn out on. As I said, he was literally playing every hand, so most of the time he would call his way down to the river with junk - that surprisingly filled up much of the time.

I figured with a pre-flop raise he had some nonsense like KJ or a baby Ace - very possibly he could have a pair of 8's or similar. Total junk was out, premium cards were out.

The river came one middle card and two low cards, he checked. I bet. He smooth called, softly whistling. I had heard this before, he whistled most of the evening - especially when he picked up a big pot or was running good. Honestly, at the time this hand played out, I was only dimly aware of this tell.

The turn hit, a king. He stared blankly and checked. Decision time for me. I decided at that point I wasn't going anywhere, I was going to gamble on the chance that he didn't have a king. I bet. (Now, remember, on the turn and river the bet amount doubles, this is where most limit players decide if they have the odds and/or the balls to chase). The whistling continued and he called.

The river hit, it was a ten. The board read something like 3 5 8 K 10, rainbow. The whistling stopped. He checked. Without even thinking, I quickly bet. He tanked for a good 2 minutes (an eternity at a low stakes limit table). He mucked. I (stupidly) turned up my rag cards. The rest of the table murmured, impressed. The codger was oblivious, checking his racing form, and getting ready to limp into the next pot.