Now THAT'S How You Play the Hammer
Been mostly playing heads-up SNGs the last few days, and I'm batting around .800. Man, I thought
I sucked at heads-up play, but little did I know how bad the vast majority of donkeys are when it's one-on-one. They lay down hands if the flop doesn't hit them, they don't lead out, they don't raise enough to build a pot or protect their hands...what else? Oh, for some reason most of the folks I've played against show me their cards just about every other hand. This is usually a bad idea, but heads-up it's crazy. Unless you're trying to build a false image and think that somehow you'll have time to take advantage of it, all you're doing is giving away how you play. In capital letters written in red ink. Silly.
The last guy I played was about the best I'd met so far. He was capable of re-raising, he'd lead out into ragged flops, he'd slow-play. He had me about 2-1 when I was dealt the Hammer in hearts. When the flop came two hearts and queen high I led out, and he re-raised me. Tired of being bullied, I went all-in, hoping he'd cave. He didn't, and turned over QJ. OK, I need a heart. A deuce on the turn gave me a few more outs...one of which was the seven of clubs that popped on the river. "Not the way I planned to get there" I typed, and he was a good sport about it.
I had him down to the felt, but he doubled up with KJ against my K-10, and the next hand I got him to commit while I held QQ. Thing is, he got me to commit while he held KK, and I wasn't so comfortable any more. I regained a 2-1 lead when I was dealt Q-10. The flop came Q-7-2, and after he led out I re-raised. He pushed, and I felt there was no way he had a queen. I was right--he had the Hammer. Now, I don't know about you, but I HATE getting beaten by a civilian wielding the Hammer. It's like extending the middle finger...and then sticking it in my eye. Or worse.
But the Hammer never lets you down, that's part of it's power. It let's OTHER people down. I had a feeling I'd wriggle off the hook, and that's just what I did, when a brace of nines appeared on the turn and river. My two pair trumped his, and victory was mine.
Got home from some running around this evening to find two cars in my driveway. OK...who the hell are you? Turns out some people house-hunting blundered across the For Sale sign in my front yard and decided to have a gander. At my back yard. Not the first time that's happened, and they were quite nice about it, as was I. I had to tell them that there's already been a bid accepted, which was a nice feeling. Home inspection is Friday, so I have to get the place shipshape by then. I've been keeping the place spotless the last 2 months, but after the bid was accepted and I knew no one else would be barging through my front door, I've let it slide a bit. Tomorrow will be a tidying day.
Tomorrow I'm also shaving off the ghastly beard I've been growing since I got laid off. I had a goatee 8 years ago or so and liked it, but I've got grey in my muzzle and facial hair puts ten years on my youthful, boyish face. Ten hard years riding the rails with a bindle over my shoulder. I've been going grey since I was 23, but it's right on my chin that it really shows. Come the morn, the fungus comes off.
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