brettbrettr
12-06-2005, 10:57 PM
After a long weekend of pokering I decide on Monday afternoon that I’m going to skip my regular Monday game, go home, and do no more pokering tonight. About 30 minutes later I IM Dick Marotti who is rumored to be back in town. We decide to go and play poker:
brettbrettr: marotti.
richardmarotti: brett.
brettbrettr: I heard you were back in town. How bout some 4/8?
richardmarotti: Yeah, I think I could do that.
brettbrettr: Cool, I can be back in the city in 45 minutes.
richardmarotti: OK, I’ll be the guy with the pony tail.
brettbrettr: I’m the devastatingly handsome fellow running three street bluffs after I’ve folded.
richardmarotti: Nice. Is your real name Brett?
brettbrettr: No, its Shant.
richardmarotti: Cool, I’ll see you in an hour.
So I get to the game about 45 minutes later and there’s no game. A few guys bust out of some donkey tournament, and we start playing 4 handed. The lineup is me, a couple of unknowns, one of the guys who hosts the game, and another 2+2er. We begin playing and nothing special happens.
As the game is starting to fill, I wonder where in the hell is this Marotti fellow and what’s taking him so long. I then start to contemplate my seat selection. Given this Marotti’s reputation, I move my chips in front of the leftmost seat at the table. There are now only two more seats available, and one is one to my right, the other three to my right. Now I think to myself that if this Marotti indeed shows, I’ll have position on him all night. I don’t really care how aggressive he is because now and I’m Boss [censored] Hogg and this is my weekly [censored] game. Expert play.
A few minutes later some guy with a ponytail walks in and buys way more chips than necessary. He has a ponytail. My read is “Marotti.” He sits directly to my right and we shake hands and introduce ourselves. Thus far he’s done nothing to persuade me that he’s not Marotti. But I’m no dummy and decide that while he most likely is Marotti I’m going to reserve my decision until I see how he plays.
A few minutes later we get into a hand. Maybe Marotti limps UTG. I look down at ATo. “If he is Marotti, I’m ahead,” I think. I raise. Game host three bets. A bunch of people call. Maybe Marotti caps. I fold. Maybe Marotti winds up dragging a huge pot with Kd4d. I decide that this person is most certainly Marotti and we play on.
The game goes on for a while longer and nothing much happens. I announce that it’s my goal to make sure one of the regulars walks out broke and do some work to this end taking in a big pot after rivering a straight with 24s. (Apparently my pre-flop three bet cold call gave my hand away; otherwise I’d like to think I could have extracted the maximum.) Marotti is also having a nice time of it, winning pots with sheer aggression. He later quietly confides in me the Marotti system of pokering: “If I’m drawing to a pair, I’ll push it. Hard.” “Expert play,” I say. And the game goes on.
Now the game is getting shorter and more aggressive. Marotti is going as many bets as possible with his pre-flop pair draws. People start to notice and play back at him. We’re 4 handed and Marotti is up about a rack in a half. Then, in quick succession, he loses three monstrous pots to trips, a set, and a full house. Marotti is now stuck and tilting as he three-bets pre-flop. He open folds a Queen-rag-rag flop saying, “[censored]. I know that hit you.” “Expert play,” I say, and we play on.
A few hands later Marotti open-completes his small blind. I look down at my hand and raise my big blind. Marotti calls. The flop comes K85. I put in the 4th bet, Marotti the 5th. I look back at the board and six-bet. Marotti calls. The turn is the 3s. Marotti checks and while calling my bet says, “You can’t possibly have a king with your ace.” The river is the 9x. Marotti checks. I say, “You saw my hand?” and bet. He says “I saw an ace” and calls. I table AsKs and ask him if he’d have gone so many bets on the flop if he hadn’t seen my ace. He says, “No, probably not with third pair.” “Expert play,” I say, and we play on.
The game is now 4 handed. It’s myself, Marotti, this guy who used to go to school with DBags and Hobbs, and an uber-nit Marotti and I decide to call “Jason.” Jason and Marotti get involved in a pot and eventually Jason does some retarded slow-roll thing on the river and holds up the nut-flush. Marotti is not pleased. I say something like, “There’s no need to show a hand like that. Just show your hand.” What I’m really saying is “Its even money that Marotti gets up out of his chair right now and beats you to death with one of your own shoes.” Jason understands the tenor of my tone. Marotti is mostly assuaged. Soon after we decide we’ve had enough pokering and Marotti, Friend of DBags and I go drinking. Marotti orders double Johnnie Blacks with water. Friend of Dbags and I decide that water is retarded. A few rounds later the night is over.
Far and away, the play of the night goes to an unnamed way-too-solid-for-this-game type player who is in the BB to Marotti’s right. Marotti and I decide to execute the expert straddle-restraddle move and before the cards are in the air we push our chips in the pot. Then, Mr. Way Too Solid gets up and says he’s going to smoke a cigarette. The dealer looks at Marotti and says, “You’re the big blind.” Marotti looks at me dejectedly and says, “I’ve never been so pwned in my life.” “Expert play,” I say, “expert play.”
brettbrettr: marotti.
richardmarotti: brett.
brettbrettr: I heard you were back in town. How bout some 4/8?
richardmarotti: Yeah, I think I could do that.
brettbrettr: Cool, I can be back in the city in 45 minutes.
richardmarotti: OK, I’ll be the guy with the pony tail.
brettbrettr: I’m the devastatingly handsome fellow running three street bluffs after I’ve folded.
richardmarotti: Nice. Is your real name Brett?
brettbrettr: No, its Shant.
richardmarotti: Cool, I’ll see you in an hour.
So I get to the game about 45 minutes later and there’s no game. A few guys bust out of some donkey tournament, and we start playing 4 handed. The lineup is me, a couple of unknowns, one of the guys who hosts the game, and another 2+2er. We begin playing and nothing special happens.
As the game is starting to fill, I wonder where in the hell is this Marotti fellow and what’s taking him so long. I then start to contemplate my seat selection. Given this Marotti’s reputation, I move my chips in front of the leftmost seat at the table. There are now only two more seats available, and one is one to my right, the other three to my right. Now I think to myself that if this Marotti indeed shows, I’ll have position on him all night. I don’t really care how aggressive he is because now and I’m Boss [censored] Hogg and this is my weekly [censored] game. Expert play.
A few minutes later some guy with a ponytail walks in and buys way more chips than necessary. He has a ponytail. My read is “Marotti.” He sits directly to my right and we shake hands and introduce ourselves. Thus far he’s done nothing to persuade me that he’s not Marotti. But I’m no dummy and decide that while he most likely is Marotti I’m going to reserve my decision until I see how he plays.
A few minutes later we get into a hand. Maybe Marotti limps UTG. I look down at ATo. “If he is Marotti, I’m ahead,” I think. I raise. Game host three bets. A bunch of people call. Maybe Marotti caps. I fold. Maybe Marotti winds up dragging a huge pot with Kd4d. I decide that this person is most certainly Marotti and we play on.
The game goes on for a while longer and nothing much happens. I announce that it’s my goal to make sure one of the regulars walks out broke and do some work to this end taking in a big pot after rivering a straight with 24s. (Apparently my pre-flop three bet cold call gave my hand away; otherwise I’d like to think I could have extracted the maximum.) Marotti is also having a nice time of it, winning pots with sheer aggression. He later quietly confides in me the Marotti system of pokering: “If I’m drawing to a pair, I’ll push it. Hard.” “Expert play,” I say. And the game goes on.
Now the game is getting shorter and more aggressive. Marotti is going as many bets as possible with his pre-flop pair draws. People start to notice and play back at him. We’re 4 handed and Marotti is up about a rack in a half. Then, in quick succession, he loses three monstrous pots to trips, a set, and a full house. Marotti is now stuck and tilting as he three-bets pre-flop. He open folds a Queen-rag-rag flop saying, “[censored]. I know that hit you.” “Expert play,” I say, and we play on.
A few hands later Marotti open-completes his small blind. I look down at my hand and raise my big blind. Marotti calls. The flop comes K85. I put in the 4th bet, Marotti the 5th. I look back at the board and six-bet. Marotti calls. The turn is the 3s. Marotti checks and while calling my bet says, “You can’t possibly have a king with your ace.” The river is the 9x. Marotti checks. I say, “You saw my hand?” and bet. He says “I saw an ace” and calls. I table AsKs and ask him if he’d have gone so many bets on the flop if he hadn’t seen my ace. He says, “No, probably not with third pair.” “Expert play,” I say, and we play on.
The game is now 4 handed. It’s myself, Marotti, this guy who used to go to school with DBags and Hobbs, and an uber-nit Marotti and I decide to call “Jason.” Jason and Marotti get involved in a pot and eventually Jason does some retarded slow-roll thing on the river and holds up the nut-flush. Marotti is not pleased. I say something like, “There’s no need to show a hand like that. Just show your hand.” What I’m really saying is “Its even money that Marotti gets up out of his chair right now and beats you to death with one of your own shoes.” Jason understands the tenor of my tone. Marotti is mostly assuaged. Soon after we decide we’ve had enough pokering and Marotti, Friend of DBags and I go drinking. Marotti orders double Johnnie Blacks with water. Friend of Dbags and I decide that water is retarded. A few rounds later the night is over.
Far and away, the play of the night goes to an unnamed way-too-solid-for-this-game type player who is in the BB to Marotti’s right. Marotti and I decide to execute the expert straddle-restraddle move and before the cards are in the air we push our chips in the pot. Then, Mr. Way Too Solid gets up and says he’s going to smoke a cigarette. The dealer looks at Marotti and says, “You’re the big blind.” Marotti looks at me dejectedly and says, “I’ve never been so pwned in my life.” “Expert play,” I say, “expert play.”