Donkley Recap

With most of the players who can think beyond the two cards in front of them at the Beau this week, I figured the Donkley would be soft like pudding. I imagined it'd be like trying to make the varsity team of any sport from a collection of home school kids. Basically, I thought they'd all be learning how to play poker for the first time. When the wife gave me a pass for the day I raced over expecting a smallish field and plenty of spots to be rewarded for patience.

I was surprised to see a number of players I think highly of, who perhaps like me, were tethered to New Orleans for the day and couldn't make a full day of hookey at the coast. I got in late and left early. Better than bubbling I guess. However, it continued a bad couple of days for me.

A day prior at the Beau, I flopped a set and because of stack sizes and bad bet sizes on my part couldn't get away from a guy who flopped a flush. A little bit of a cooler. Interesting when I retell the hand I get a range of responses from stone cold cooler, to maybe you could have gotten away from the hand. I won't repeat it here as many of you have it heard it.

Then I played two satellites, and through agression and hitting some hands (that I couldn't hit for two days in tournaments), I became chip leader in both three handed. Here's where I'm a moron. I thought the structure was like Harrahs where two players split the prize pool (not quite and I'll get to the difference in a second). So, I basically decided I'll sit on my chips and let the other two guys knock somebody out or at least cripple 'em and make sure I get a piece. Yeah, I know pretty bad sit 'n go strategy in it's on right, though at Harrahs I had success letting the other two do the dirty work to each other.

In satellite number 1, twice the shortest stack needed a river card to double up. Eventually, the blinds catch up to me and I have to shove, as they've picked up on my passivity and just stolen blinds from me. I get called by K9 and that's a wrap. Chipleader to nothing, I leave before seeing that you actually play it out for first and second and first place is over 500. Yeah, I'm dumb.

In satellite number 2, same situation. I sit on my hands and the other two guys come back and basically rape me on the bubble negating my chip advantage. The short stacks again get lucky with each other. I shove and get called by K9 (again!) and that's a wrap. Then I stick around and see there is still playing to be done (because we agreed to a save for third place). What you guys don't just split it? They consider doing a chop by chip stacks. Damn it! I'm stupid give me my hundo and let me go.

Had I known that, or simply just not been a pussy and tried to Kelly Kim my way to the cash, probably a different story in both.

Well, steaming from a bit of a cooler, two third places of my own doing, I know I'm going to run over the donkley. Yeah, ran over my own foot.

Here's background. I sit down late and my first hand I have AK suited on the button. 8 limpers. Hell no. I make it a healthy raise, and a guy in early position calls. Flop is Axx all spades. He checks, I c-bet. He folds angrily thinking I'm on a steal.

I don't like these donkeys getting riled up, for the very reason that I'm about to relay, so I show AK. Of course he doesn't look up and the dealer mucks it, but the rest of the table saw it. Just about exactly the opposite of how I'd want the cards to be seen.

A cycle later I'm in the small blind. I got 8-8. Same passive limping that every hand has been. Okay, blinds are a little bigger so I fire out a bigger bet. Same dude calls with this determined look on his face. Yes, he thinks I'm full of shit because I've gotten hands TWICE in 10 which force me to raise in a table of limpers.

I get that little cold sweat you get when you feel a donkey breathing on you and you know he's about to self-destruct and possibly bring you with him. Flop is queen high (73). I run through the hands he could have limped with with a queen, and most don't make sense. I'll bet to see where I'm at but I'm pretty sure I'm ahead.

As I'm thinking how much to bet, I can see him balling up his courage. He's going to make a play. I put out my bet and he insta-comes over the top for 40% of our chips. I roll my eyes to myself. Nope, doesn't have a queen. Doesn't have a set. Doesn't have two pair with that board. Maybe a 7. Doesn't have any kind of a hand he wants to get paid on. Classic trying to take the pot right there.

Still, I slow down and run through if he could have limped say QJ. Maybe. Then he gives me one of my favorite donkey tells and I know my read is right. I'm definitely ahead. I stack up my chips and shove. Eat it.

The guy doesn't call immediately. My reads gotta be good. Can't call without a queen here right? So probably not QJ. Eventually, he does that what the hell shrug, I'm outplayed let me donate my chips and calls. Maybe he did have queen. I say, "You gotta queen your good."

He slows down his reveal. I show my 8-8, silly showdown games, and he turns over A-7 with a little consternation. The donkey stench is heavy on me. I know what's coming. Splat! On the turn trip 7s.

I get it in one hand later from the button, on a limped pot (again). A9, get called by two. Flop comes ace high. Check, check. Turn is a brick, oops one guys betting he checked an ace, I think. Other guy folds. Don't have Ace rag two pair! No... it's Ace 10. See ya meat.


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