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Poker Addict - by Pegasus

'God I Love Pocket Jacks'

December 20th 2006 01:40
Here's one poker player's personal story...

"Pocket Jacks"
Topic: "How I Started Playing Poker"
By Christina DeJesus

Pocket Jacks
I'm sitting at a 2-4 table in the Bally's casino on a Monday afternoon with lots of seniors. Everyone at the table is annoyed. They are irritated because it's only my fourth hand but I've managed to win three hands out of four already. A man next to me folds, cashes out and leaves. I'm looking at a small framed woman with a beehive hairdo who just raised it up. I've got pocket jacks. I smile at my good fortune and re-raise. But believe me when I say that it wasn't always this way...

When my boyfriend told me he had learned to play Texas Hold Em' on Thanksgiving of 2003, I was immediately intrigued. Plopping down lazily on the futon bed I asked "So who played?" His reply was a list of guys we were friends with. "Joe, Tom, Nick, Barry..." I was more disturbed then surprised when no girls were named. I asked why no girls were present and his reply was simply that it was a no-brainer because there weren't any girls around who knew how. I searched online shortly after our conversation for female players of the game.
Reading about Annie Duke fueled the fires of desire to learn the game. I brushed up on the game and invited myself to join a cash game.

My first game of poker was played a few months after my boyfriend learned to play. He arranged a cash game at our house and all of the players were mutual friends of ours. I was still nervous despite the fact that I had hung around all of these guys more then once. First off, I was the only girl at the table. Secondly, I was a poorly concealed novice! As I picked up my hole cards I studied the faces at the table and was quickly overwhelmed by the whole situation. I sat there scrambling to think. Try to remember hand rankings Christina. Pay attention Christina. It's on you Christina. It's your deal Christina. "Just deal for her," one of our friends said in a slightly annoyed tone, "she's spacing out!" I sat there befuddled as my deal was skipped because I was so out of it. Let's just say I had a lot to learn and my attention span had dwindled down to nothing that night.

So, I decided to hit the books and learn the details of the game. Sooner then later, our friends took turns bringing up the rear as I dominated our weekly house games. Although I lost many times as well, I still was quickly known as a surprising and somewhat distracting triple threat! Despite my many reservations, my boyfriend decided that it was time to step it up a notch. It was time to pop my poker cherry at the Taj Mahal Casino in Atlantic City.

As I approached the poker room I was astounded. The room was a natural eco-system living and breathing and thriving with the top of the food chain feeding upon the weakling bottom feeders. I quickly realized that I was a bottom feeder. And I was a flamboyant bottom feeder at that. Against my boyfriend's warnings, I proceeded to go down wearing a vintage 60's dress that was bright orange! As I sat down at the 2-4 table I felt very out of place. The uniform was obviously Hollister and Abercrombie complete with store bought "worn out" hats. I was again the only girl at the table. I was promptly reassured by my hole cards which came jack, jack. I began rejoicing my win before it had taken place. It's on me. Bet big. "I bet," I said meekly, trying to act innocent. My bet was called and the flop came. Then came the river and the turn. I had hit nothing the whole was but I was being the table aggressor with blind ego. When it came time to show down, everyone wanted to know if I had a higher straight then my caller. I showed my measly pocket jacks and Hollister boy collected his chips. I could feel my face getting red with mortification. I hate pocket jacks. I was never going to play again I told myself.

Fast forward to the next week: "John when are we going down to AC again? To my surprise I had decided within myself that I was not going to quit. I was going to do it again and again until I dominated the 2-4 tables as well. I was going to make others at the table nervous not the reverse. I was going to be strong competition because the seeds of my competitiveness had already been planted.

Back at Bally's everyone has cleared the way for me and beehive lady to go head's up. The flop comes Jack, 6, 8. I've flopped top set and bet she raises, I re-raise, it's capped. The turn comes Ace. I bet, she raises, I re-raise, it's capped. Now the river comes. It's an eight. I bet, she raises, I re-raise it's capped. Show down. Beehive lady turns her cards over and shows sixes full of eights. She smiles at me. I turn my cards. Jacks full of eights. I smile at her. Beehive lady looks as though something inside her has just ruptured. I collect my chips, tip the dealer and close my eyes.

God I love pocket Jacks.

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1 Comments. [ Add A Comment ]

Comment by The Daily Sonnet

December 20th 2006 01:54
Pocket jacks can be heartbreakers. Especially when someone else turns over pocket queens or catches something. All pocket pairs can be like that. About 20 minutes ago, someone went all in against my pocket kings with ace ten (again) and caught an ace. Luckily someone else called with queen jack so I kept most of my chips.

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