Straight Flush!

No shit, there I was, in the 6-12 hold'em game at the Oaks Club early this evening. Most everyone at the table was new to me, except for Laura in seat one and Danny Flores in seat two. I'm in seat seven. The dealer is Anya, the beautiful woman who used to help Alan Wasserman run the Oaks' tournaments when she was a chip runner.

In this hand, I'm in the cutoff seat, and my downcards are the six and four of clubs. The player under the gun folds, and Danny opens the betting by limping in, and gets a caller after him. The cutoff seat isn't the button, but I like my position enough to feel I can take a flyer with my hand, so I trail in.

The player on the button, a genial gambler with whom I've been building some friendly rapport, puts in a raise. Oh well, that's why its not such a good idea to limp in with a hand like suited 6-4 when you don't have the button. Not only was I committed to throwing an extra bet after a speculative hand, but the raiser is the one player who has position on me. Oops.

The player in the small blind drops out, but the big blind, a serious young Asian man whom I read as more of a thinker than a gambler, calls. Everyone else who is already in the hand puts in an extra bet.

The flop comes down 8c 8d 5c. Suddenly, I like my hand, although I'm not head-over-heels in love with it. I've got a gutshot straight flush draw, which means that three sevens give me a straight and the fourth, the seven of clubs, gives me a straight flush. Any other club will give me a flush, too. But a non-suited seven could give anyone holding 8-7 (a plausible limping hand) a full house, and there could easily be better flush draws out there. The good news is that, given the action and the players in the hand, 8-5 is fairly unlikely, so that I'm reasonably comfortable that no one has a full house — yet. I've got twelve outs to make a hand, but there's a reasonable likelihood that some of them are tainted.

The action is checked through to the player on the button, who, unsurprisingly bets. Big blind calls, Danny Flores calls, seat 5 calls. I like the pot odds, even though the number of players still in the hand means that my draw is thinner than I'd like it to be. I call.

Anya burns and turns the 46-to-1 longshot miracle: the seven of clubs. I've made my straight flush! Now my only problem is to get as much money into the pot as I can. I decide to slowplay, and give someone holding an eight in their hand the chance to catch enough to commit money to the pot.

The big blind checks. Danny Flores bets. He might be playing a suited 8-7 — I've seen him play cards like that in early position before — but I think the more likely hand for him is the ace of clubs and a suited kicker. The player between us drops out, and I just call the bet, waiting for the river to put the squeeze on Danny. The player in the big blind overcalls — better and better.

The river card that Anya puts out is the queen of spades. The big blind checks. Danny bets again. Now is my moment: I raise.

To my complete astonishment, the player in the big blind reraises! Five more chips, all-in. Danny cold-calls my raise and the big blind's all-in reraise. And here's the only bad luck I had in this hand: the Oaks Club's rule on raising all-in bets and raises is that you can only "complete" an all-in's bet, i.e. raise it enough to make it a full bet; and in this particular case, since the all-in player's partial reraise was in response to my raise, I couldn't even complete the bet! (The rationale for this is that doing so would be me raising my own bet.)

I said, "I sure hope that somebody has pocket eights!" and tabled my hand. No such luck; no jackpot this time. The player in the big blind showed his queen and eight of hearts. He had flopped three eights and rivered eights full of queens. Danny never showed his hand, but I assume from the fact that he called the double bet at the end that he, too, had a full house, presumably eights full of sevens. He lost with his usual grace and style (Danny's a mensch), but it must have gotten to him, because he got up immediately and lobbied for a while.

That's only my second straight flush. My first came early in my poker career, when I was dealt a pat royal flush in clubs on fifth street in the Oaks' 2-4 stud game. That time all I won was the antes and bring-ins. I think I might have won one more bet if I had checked it down to the river.

(Meanwhile, I've got a partial draft written about our trip to Lake Chelan; I hope to finish it and put it up tomor—err, later today.)