Indian Larry and the Online Misfits

Shortly after the break I get moved to a new table. This table was so different than the first one that I thought I had woken up in some surreal dream were I was actually playing poker inside the main server at Full Tilt Poker (dot com). It was FULL of young, hyper agressive online maniacs, with their chief conspirator a 120 lb. goofball I dubbed “Indian Larry”. This nickname is for no other reason than the kid looked to be of Indian descent. Larry literally opened raised at least 75% of every pot and three of his buddies would jump in with him.

There were so many barely legal mouse mavens that one of them actually finally recognized Larry by his cyber moniker. 10 minutes after arriving at the table, this peach fuzz laden skinny kid suddenly piped up out of his seat and said to him “Hey, you’re ‘interblublublah 73 on FT, right? Yeah, I played a 109 with you last night”. As I was just about to inform this young lad that his handle was in fact “Indian Lar”….”Yeah!? That’s me,” Larry answered. Thanks for ruining the joke, Larry.

Watching them toss chips back and forth while I was catching nothing was starting to get to me. But then I remembered this is no weekly tournament, where the blinds go up every time someone scores in the basketball game on TV. I didn’t like it but then I remembered that I don’t have to play a goddamn hand for 2 hours if I don’t want to. I’ve got plenty of chips and the blinds aren’t going anywhere for another 50 minutes. Also buffering my spirits was the fact that I was quickly noticing that we had about 4 Full Blown Squeezers (FBS) at the table playing some serious LDP (Lock Down Poker). Aside from folding 20 hands in a row, one FBS actually went as far to admonish one of the young guns for calling off a quarter of his stack with K-Q while getting 5 to 1 on someone else’s all in bet. It’s nice when someone goes out of their way to tell you just how tight they are. It was feast or famine. Stay out of the way of the nut jobs and pound on the tighties whenever possible. That strategy did well to maintain my stack while waiting for a few of the nut jobs to blown themselves up.

It didn’t take long. Larry finally finished the effortless task of bluffing off his chips and instantly the table took on a different complexion. We were playing poker again. There were now 3 online kids who looked lost without their leader (and without many chips), 4 Bonafide FBS’s, me and the gentlemen next to me, whom we will call “Angry Guy”. As fate would have it, he and I would go to battle many times. You could see the fury boiling within him as I held over him in repeated pots. Sets of 5s, wired aces, AK over AQ, I couldn’t lose to him and he was losing his mind with my repeated raises and re-raises. It was a shame, he was the only guy whose play I respected and in the end it cost me chips. If it was one of the on liners, they would have paid me off many times over. No worries, holding over angry guy in those few pots and built my stack up to almost 50,000.

At this point in the tournament people were dropping out pretty quickly. The FBS coalition held on to their dwindling stacks, a few on liners gambled their way out, and our table finally got broken up. It’s good when the tables are getting broken up, it means the field is thinning and we’re getting closer to pay day. When I sat down at my new table, it was very apparent that it was crunch time. The pseudo tough guidos and internet hot shots were growing fewer and farther between and most of those who remained appeared to very much know what they were doing. I was just hoping I was one of them.

This part of the tournament is commonly known as “Moving Day”. You’re taking a stand with your good hands and either moving up into the money or moving on to the poker room and trying to get your grand back in the cash games. At this point in the game, everyone has their agenda. Are they squeezing their chips, trying to limp into the money? Are they gambling excessively in an effort to reach the final table with a big stack? Are they frustrated, about ready to melt down with a less than premium hand? DON’T EVER WEAR HEADPHONES AT A TABLE WHERE YOU DON’T KNOW THE PLAYERS. Listening to what they are saying will tell you so much about the types of hands they are willing to play and you will be much better prepared to play accordingly when facing them in a pot.

For the most part everyone’s playing about the same, not risking their whole life without a big hand, and hoping to scrape enough pots to stay ahead of the blinds, which were 800-1600 with antes of 200. Gazing around the table, I was glad to see there were few stacks much bigger than mine. There were one or two quite a bit bigger, a few about the same size, and a few short stacks that I hoped were soon to take the long walk. Then I looked at the faces. There’s nothing more exhilarating then recognizing one or two from tournaments you’ve seen on TV. There was one guy, not a household name, that I remembered seeing about 2 years ago on a show called “Speed Poker”. I remembered his name was Billy Hill. And I also remembered that he played like a solid pro. He didn’t overly bluff but he raised in position, followed up his bets with continuations and knew how to float a hand or two. I also noticed his diamond encrusted Rolex. No matter, most of the play was “raise and take it” and walks to the blinds.

I held my own, raising few hands, betting when appropriate and laying down when necessary, I was at least maintaining my chip position. Then Billy and I got into a hand. He raised early to 4800. With position on him I called with K-Q offsuit and the big blind also called. There was 17,000 in the pot. The flop came Queen high with 2 spades. The big blind checked and as expected Mr. Hill came out with a controlled, emotionless bet of 9,000. The pot now had 26,000 in it. With about 42,000 chips I am not laying this down, I’m not calling, and any raise will commit me to the pot. If Billy has A-Q, I’m crushed. If he has A-K, he’s crushed. The big blind was the x-factor though. He may have got in here with 2 spades, some straight cards, or even a small pair that could set up on the turn. I felt very confident I had the best hand and if I can’t go with it here then why the hell would I even show up? These guys are not getting another card without paying another 33,000 to see it. “I’m all in”. They both fold pretty quickly and any lingering feelings of uncertainty were replaced with an almost euphoric realization that I could most certainly hang with these guys. I now have 68,000. A couple uneventful rounds go by and finally the level ends, the dinner break is announced, and I have slightly above average chips of about 58,000.

Daryl was long gone to the poker room and Jerry was frantically searching for Rain Man at the blackjack tables, so Jay, Daryl’s buddy Blake, Jason, and I sat down for dinner at the Metropolitan. Jay, Blake, and I are still in and with about 100 players remaining we are all cognizantly aware that the 63 money spots are right around the corner. Not to jinx anything, Jay confides to me “Man, there’s no way I’m playing this long, going this far without making the money.” We’re all feeling it man. Big time. I’m pretty healthy with my stack but Jay and Blake are both hanging on with about 25,000 – 30,000 each. It’s 9 PM, we wish each other luck and head back to the tournament, ready for the home stretch that should last until about 2 AM. Walking back into the tournament, I caught myself sizing up every stack at every table I walked by. I was pleased with what I saw. There were a lot of stacks much smaller than mine and it was apparent the attrition rate would be accelerating.

More good news. Shortly after play resumes my table is broken up, the flies are dropping just like they should. Walking to my new table I quickly look around and I’m happy to see both Jay and Blake are still alive and the information screen shows 81 players, 18 to go.

Next: Hugs all around with the Gentleman.