Well, this weekend I had a great time. Dad was here to play in the World Series of Poker circuit event at Caesar’s Indiana, just across the river. I’ve been in a casino only twice before in my life, and this was the first time I’ve been in Caesar’s. But it was a good deal for Dad, he got to get out of town for a while, play some poker with the big boys (there were several pros in attendance), and see me and Tricia.
It was an okay first day–he played Friday and did well for a while, and then just hit a streak of bad draws and was out. Then came Saturday. He got into the Saturday event, and was just phenomenal throughout the afternoon and early evening, holding his own while not necessarily racking up the chips. And then he switched tables.
Now, only the top 36 got prize money in this thing, which meant Dad had to survive until the room was reduced to 4 tables. He survived two all-in hands, forcing a fold on one and won the other, and then word got out that there were 37 left. To no one’s surprise, each hand got more intense as people tried to force out the short-stacked. They played with 37 for close to an hour, and it was not without its moments–Dad was nearly forced to go all-in at least twice, including the title moment of this post!
Now, see, he had raised his draw and someone reraised to where he would have had to push everything into the pot. Oh, the agony! My heart was doing somersaults in my chest, but I’m sure that’s nothing compared to what he was going through. It was obvious he was in agony, and I was literally holding my breath. Then finally, in a fit of disgust, he picked up his cards and slammed them facedown on the table, folding the hand–he had POCKET QUEENS! Oh my stars and garters! He folded ***PocketQueens(tm)***!!!!
Unbeknowst to me at the time, there was a guy on the other table who had only $700 of chips left, and would not have been able to make the ante (or the blind, can’t remember which right now) on the next hand unless he won. Turned out that just as Dad folded, the guy won. And the guy who put the pressure on Dad had an Ace-King suited. Dad could have taken him, but the risk was too great. Dad told me later he didn’t want to be number 37, and that was why he folded.
But as a result, about 20 minutes or so afterwards, someone went out, and then there were 36. Dad was guaranteed prize money! He survived one more person going out before finishing 35th. And the tournament that day began with 358. How about that? My dad finished 35th out of 358, including pros! That’s MY Dad!!! 😀
Oh, it was wonderful, I never thought I could have that much fun standing around watching people sit at a table. I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t play, at least not with the seriousness Dad or a pro would have–I might have to consider making a run at it the way Dad has. But I think it’s a hobby for him right now–not a second career. I should get him to organize some family tournaments–THAT would be fun to come home to!