Blowup in the Big GameA dysfunctional poker familyby Todd Arnold | Published: Apr 15, 2011 |
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If you follow me on Twitter, you probably know much of this already. But let me outline the buildup to this epic eruption that took place in the Ivey Room at the Aria Resort and Casino. Some of the names have been changed to protect the immature.
There is an individual who has been playing in the “big game” with us more and more over the past year. He insists on being called “Crazy Mike.” Crazy Mike is a graduate of the Phil Hellmuth school of poker etiquette. In fact, he is now qualified to be a professor there! I’m not saying he’s spoiled and likes to be the center of attention, but here is his standard order to the cocktail waitress as soon as he walks in every day: two liter bottles of Aquafina (which the Aria doesn’t carry, and has to buy just for him), two empty glasses, a bucket of ice, two Sprites, and a double espresso.
Now, there are good things and bad things about Crazy Mike. One of the good things is that he takes great pleasure in putting bad beats on his opponents. One of his favorites in triple-draw lowball is to draw four cards out of position and then bet blind, declaring that it’s “just for the principle.” He then often goes on to beat his opponent who drew three, two, one, or even stood pat. Then, he squeals with delight as he keeps asking everyone at the table, “How many did I draw?”
It’s pretty funny when he does this stuff. And if someone is willing to take that much the worst of it, I don’t mind at all if he wants to laugh at me when he manages to pull off the beat. It’s more than a fair trade-off, as far as I’m concerned. Not everyone shares my opinion, though, and this brings us to the next character in our story.
He has requested that I not name him in print, so I will refer to him as Boy Scout Reindeer: Boy Scout because that’s how he refers to himself, due to his insistence on everyone following the written rules, and Reindeer because that’s what Crazy Mike calls him. I’m not sure why, but it has something to do with being old.
As for our third character, I won’t name him, either — except to say that his first name sounds like ping and his last name sounds like liar (which is a funny coincidence, as this guy has never told the truth in his entire adult life). He takes more shots at the poker table than I do at the bar.
Ping came stumbling into the Ivey Room, mumbling questions at us in his patented English/Vietnamese/Mandarin hybrid language that only he and Chau Giang speak fluently. Since I have about 20 years of experience with this language and can understand about half of it, I began to translate for the rest of the table: “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Where is the best place to park here? Valet?”
Boy Scout Reindeer (BSR) immediately jumped up and started trying to sell our room to Ping. “We play every day, the games are great, free food, free translator.” Aghast, I quickly sent BSR a text message, telling him that we definitely didn’t want this guy here. Besides knowing more angles than a professor of geometry, this guy’s a great player and would feed on our live ones.
Once Ping plays a hand, locking up his seat, he leaves to work on a wire transfer, and I berate Boy Scout Reindeer. Why would he want this freaking guy here? BSR quickly agrees, and says that he forgot what the guy is like. Crazy Mike chimes in and wants to know the details, so I tell him a few stories.
I suddenly smile and tell Crazy Mike to look at something. You see, Ping had pushed his missed big blind button next to my stack of chips, so that he could snake a free hand when he got back, claiming that he never missed the blind; a classic Ping move.
Now, I suppose that Crazy Mike thought he was going to play sheriff and take matters into his own hands. He begins to give Ping Liar the business, telling him that his antics aren’t going to fly here, and he will have Ping thrown out. At first, I like this and think it’s funny, but it progresses to something worse than a malignant cancer.
After five days of grief, Ping’s shot-taking skin was wearing thin. It didn’t help matters much that he had lost every day that he had played. The finale came when Crazy Mike kept telling Ping to shut the f—- up. Ping was like, “Im jus tak Todd,” and Crazy Mike was like, “I don’t care. I said shut the f—- up.”
Then, Crazy Mike had Ping’s friend removed from the room, and the friend told Crazy Mike where to go, so Crazy Mike turned his wrath back on Ping. Ping lost a big pot and the cards flew across the table. Ping then got up and started screaming and making violent gestures toward Crazy Mike, who started saying things like, “What did I do? Why is this guy mad at me?”
He reminded me of a little kid who sits there telling his mom that he didn’t eat the missing cake, when there’s chocolate smeared all over his face. This screaming stops play in the entire Aria poker room until the floorman finally gets Ping calmed down and out of the room.
Not willing to leave well enough alone, Crazy Mike turns to Boy Scout Reindeer and says, “Boy, that guy was really out of line. Can you believe that? I didn’t do anything to bring that on!” This was the wrong thing to say to Boy Scout Reindeer, as he’d been ticked off at Crazy Mike’s antics for a long time.
Now, Boy Scout Reindeer explodes like an atomic bomb. He’s twice as loud as Ping was, and three times more animated. A crowd starts to form outside the room to see what all the hubbub is about. Crazy Mike is just sitting there with this look on his face of, “How did I get myself into this mess?” Finally, he just picked up his chips and left.
With this, our game was done, and everyone racked up his chips. Luckily, the whole cast of characters was back the next day, playing in the same game. Just like every other dysfunctional family in the world, not one word was said about the incident, as if it had never happened. Just another day in the big game at the Aria. ♠
Todd Brunson has been a professional poker player for more than 20 years. While primarily a cash-game player, he still has managed to win 18 major tournaments, for more than $3.5 million. He has won one bracelet and cashed 25 times at the World Series of Poker. You can play with Todd online at DoylesRoom.com or live at his tournament, The Todd Brunson Montana Poker Challenge, in Bigfork, Montana. Check his website, ToddBrunson.com, for details.
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