How to win hands and influence people

Steve  Deadmoney

In 1936, a very successful American salesman by the name of Dale Carnegie wrote "How to win friends and influence people" - a timeless book which has been a staple of very many sales departments since, and is the basis for the Carnegie training organisation. It's also a bloody good read for Billy No Mates, anyone in need of improving interpersonal skills, and people who can't fight.

I did initially consider calling this report "How to lose friends and influence people", but I'm trying to stay positive after tonight's rather memorable events. And when I say memorable, I do mean...  er... ummm... no, it's gone. Never mind, on with the report.

Seven regulars and one new guest sat down to play tonight. In an evening of firsts, the first first (please try to keep up - this really isn't going to get any better) was the venue. This was the first weekly game at Graham and Lindsey's place, and their first hosting of a TCP game since moving in together. The second first was our latest first-time guest, Pete, who had come from Newbury, thus spreading the reach of TCP further West - next stop Swindon?

Technically, you could argue that this wasn't a first as we've only just had another 'guest Pete' (last week), but the newest of new Pete's did qualify for a first all of his own. A successful internet player (well, he claimed to have won a couple of 200 player tournaments online, so I for one wasn't arguing), Pete was playing his first live game.

First things first (I did try to warn you) - we checked out a few basics on Pete's background to see what scope there was for giving him a nickname. Regulars will know that we already have Pete The Slag, so when I heard that our guest bought cars for the police, my mind immediately went to 'Pete The Filth'. However, before airing this suggestion, an alternative very quickly took precedence, as he proceeded to take down a few hands on straights. 'Straight Pete' captured the imagination and took hold, particularly for the inference that The Slag must somehow be (forgive me, Pete) bent. In his defence, the stories I've heard make that suggestion a non-starter, but until he puts pen to paper and writes one of these inane reports, the stigma of doubt will remain.

On with the action. Still smarting from my loss of the league leadership to G last week, I decided to play a tight game to begin with. Apparently the cards were aware of this strategy, and didn't bother with giving me any dilemmas - I got sod all for the first hour. Anyone familiar with my normally loose play will realise that I simply can't sit at a table that long and not play some hands. So I had to re-buy twice. As the freeze out approached, I suddenly found some cards worth playing, and managed to take a few pots. Either side of me, new Pete and Dave were parked behind veritable chip mountains. Dave is always a solid player, and clearly internet players can make the transition to live play without even donning a pair of shades.

No matter. As the cards kept coming my way, I suddenly found myself on a roll. I think there must have been about 6 or 7 consecutive hands where I had an ace - and showed them all as the rest kept folding. Just in time, I announced that I wouldn't show them any more - and promptly hit 2 bullets for my hole cards. Flopping trip aces, I made the minimum raise, only to see everyone fold again. I couldn't resist showing one more hand, and was just ready to do my best Aretha Franklin impersonation ('R-E-S-P-E-C-T') when it dawned on me that, with my voice, I was probably going to lose it all in two seconds flat. And I do mean flat.

By the time we got to the freeze out, hosts G and Lindz had re-bought a few times, as along with Baz, they'd seen very few playable hands. By this time, Dave, new Pete and myself were all roughly equal as chip leaders. Baz ventured a pre-flop all-in on the first hand (no takers, but his AA was one of the few worthwhile opportunities he had). However, this stirred up the action, and soon there were plenty of big bets.

I wasn't complaining, as I continued to pick up very playable cards. In fact, I was having a hard time losing, even when I got called and was behind. Baz was all in when he found AQ (against my A8), only to see a killer 8 on the river. Then G and Lindz both went all in pre-flop at the same time, and I called them both. Lindz had pocket 10s, G had pocket 6s, and I showed KK. Cue Graham's first accurate call of the night (to himself) "Oh you muppet!"

Still, it's never over 'til the fat lady sings, and the flop brought G a 6 to make trips. Unfortunately, it then brought trip kings for me, and I'd taken out 3 out of 3, and acquired a decent chip lead. This was soon enhanced with some judicious bluffing when I was dealt the inevitable shite in between good hands. Luckily, I only seemed to be called when I actually had playable cards, and 7 people will testify (quite possibly on their lives) that they've never seen one person get so many great hands, and such incredible luck. We are talking gambler's wet dream here. I just couldn't go wrong. Either I got a made hand on the flop, or I caught up from behind. Over and over. Let me tell you, that's a definite first for me. Andy and Dave were next to fall, leaving the two Petes and myself to carve up the points and the dosh.

Still fearful of my all-conquering jam (thanks for the recipe, mum), my opponents must have felt like rabbits staring at the headlights of a steam-roller. Pete The Slag fell - I can't recall the cards, I was just elated to have taken out the last TCP opponent - leaving Straight Pete to fight against both me and some rather long odds considering the chipstack I'd accumulated. Undaunted, he raised me all in two or three times in succession, taking me for about 1,000 chips a time. Someone pointed out that maybe at this rate he'd get back into it, but I had 40,000 in 1000's alone.

A stand had to be taken, and I decided to call with 86o, luckily not getting raised. The flop brought K57, and I raised a couple of thousand. Pete went all in again, and I correctly deduced he'd hit top pair. I called him and started wondering if this pot of about 16,000 was going to be the start of my downfall. The turn brought nothing for either of us, and then the killer river card hit - a 4, making my straight to beat Straight Pete. This was not a time to point out the irony. Rather it was a time to give thanks for the cards. A time to hope that, having taken everyone off the table, I still had some friends.

If you ever get into a big tournament, final table, my cards tonight are what you want. This was the night that Boatman, Brunson, Ungar, Hellmuth, and even Jesus himself would have lost to me. No, Chris Ferguson, not the Easter Egg geezer. Truly, this was my lucky day as far as poker goes.

So, how to win hands etcetera? Just wait 'til it's your lucky day. So, are ya feeling lucky, punk? Well, are ya? 'Cos there's another game next week, and every Wednesday...

Jam-Meister Jammy B******