So there I am, tied for short stack with a pair of fives in my pocket and sitting on the big blind. It’s a now or never kind of hand. With an inner sigh I say the words as I count my meager stack and give it a shove towards the center of the table. I get two bites out of six. Fair enough. I was hoping my position as big blind and short stack would be obvious enough to get some players to assume I was bluffing… Not so much. Now I am looking at my pocket fives, a pair of deuces and I think a king queen, off suit on the table. I’m a little worried…

Then the flop. A king I think it was, but certainly not a five. I am pretty much toasted. I wait, but as we near the river, it is only becoming more obvious this will be my last hand. And it is, no trip fives for me, I’m out.

Now this leaves my good buddy Mike as the short stack at he table. He plays reserved for a couple of hands and then also utters the words. While the decisions are being made he stands, walks over to me and whispers, “You’re going to love my pocket hand.” or some similar statement, and while I really didn’t mean to, I chuckle aloud, (Very, Very sorry Mike). Thankfully, my lack of poker face doesn’t dissuade the next player from going all in with Mike.

He now has the chance to triple his stack with a pair of fives and part of me is right there with him.

And then the flop… 5 and guess what else, yeah, 5.

Being jealous and proud at the same time, I imagine, is not too unlike crying while you masturbate.

Needless to say, he took the pot and was back in the game like it was nobody’s business. And I say to you Mike, well done, well done indeed.

Bookmark to: