Summer at the NYC Underground

When the sun goes down, New York City lights up. Thousands of 20-somethings spill into the city from Long Island and New Jersey. The work-weary young professionals living in Manhattan finally get to slip on their jeans and go out drinking. I had finally left Boston and returned to the rat race that I affectionately call home. And I had only one thing on my mind. Well - two things.
I called a bunch of friends I hadn't seen in a few weeks and we decided to meet up at a Mexican restaurant that we love. Four margaritas and a pile of nachos later, we headed across the street to continue our fun. A pint of brew and countless amounts of tequila went by, and somehow, it was almost 2 a.m. Fortunately, a summer of nothing but working and drinking sort of raised my tolerance up to a par with that of an elephant. I was feeling good. But, more important, I was feeling adventurous.

I ambled over to my cousin and told him we were going to the cardroom by his apartment, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I knew this place had recently been raided, but I also knew that the staff somehow wiggled their way out of getting closed down. For the moment, I heard it was a safe place to play, safe meaning that the vice squad wouldn't be busting down the doors at 3 a.m. Most of these card clubs have good security, so nobody really worries too much about getting robbed while they're playing.

We got to the building the club was housed in, and Scott and I climbed an obscene amount of stairs before we finally reached the fifth floor. We rang the bell, were instructed to look at the video camera in the corner, and we entered a small anteroom where we were faced with another door. After 15 seconds or so, the second door opened and we were ushered straight to the cashier's desk.

I had never been here before, and was impressed with the spread. Even at 2 a.m., it had six full tables running. There were approximately eight more tables that were empty, a tiny kitchen, and two bathrooms. Three of the games were no-limit hold'em with blinds of $1-$2, two were no-limit with blinds of $2-$5, and one game was no-limit with blinds of $5-$10. We both registered up front, and I quickly hopped into the $1-$2 game with $200 in chips.

I raised my very first pot from middle position after seeing 10-10. It was uncontested, and I won the blinds. It usually takes just one hand to get over the jitters, and that was it. For the next two orbits, I didn't really get anything going, and my stack had dwindled down to about $140 after playing a few marginal hands to a raise and missing completely. Then, I found K-K in the big blind.

The player under-the-gun raised to $14, and it was reraised by the button to $50. I just went ahead and pushed for a total of $140, the player under-the-gun reraised all in for about $150 more, and the button called instantly - with 9-8 suited! The player under-the-gun showed Q-Q and, for the moment, I was ahead.

But it was only a moment of euphoria. The flop was A-9-9, leaving me drawing to running aces and the two remaining kings in the deck. Alas, it was not to be, and my original $200 was gone. I reached for my wallet, opened it, and realized that I didn't have a penny remaining. Oops. I got up and waded over to Scott's table, where I hit him up for $200.

"I'll pay you in an hour."

I sat back down and stuck $200 more down on the felt. The guy who had just won the big pot decided to get up and go, which was a great decision on his part, but gut-wrenching for me. I wanted that money back! Either way, the game was still good. I folded until I was under-the-gun, and I limped in with - you guessed it - 9-8 suited. Action was raised to $12 in middle-position, and three players called behind. I was the fourth caller. The dealer laid out the flop, and it was a gorgeous 9-9-8. I was just going to let this hand play itself. Five players to the flop and had I flopped the nuts in a raised pot as the last to act.

Somebody up there loves me.

The original bettor slung out a green $25 chip, which was called quickly by a quiet Asian man directly to his left. Did he flop a 9 also? Maybe he had J-10? I had no read on him. Action was folded to me, and I called quickly. The turn was a 3, putting two spades on the board. The original bettor checked, the Asian man bet out $50, I hesitated, called, and the original bettor called as well, which I thought surprising.

The river was an offsuit 4, leaving me with the pure nuts. The original bettor checked, the Asian man checked, and I moved all in as soon as it was my turn to act. The original bettor called after a few seconds, and the Asian man mucked. I showed my cards, and he sheepishly turned over J-J. I had recouped my original $200 and even added a bit of cash. I thought about getting up, but then thought about what had just happened in this hand. There were five players to every flop, a player with pocket jacks had just put in $200 more after a paired flop, and, well, I love poker. So I stayed.

I raised the very next hand with garbage and took it down on the flop with a continuation bet. I continued to do this for the next four or five hands, winning $10, $15 at a time uncontested. I then decided I was going to raise the next hand in the dark, so I did. In the big blind, three people limped and I raised to $20. Only the small blind called. The flop was J-9-7 with two spades, and the small blind checked. Without looking at my cards, I pumped out another $50. He called quickly, which was worrisome.

The turn was another 9, and I decided to look at my cards.

As luck would have it, I had J-9 offsuit. Before I could think about my next move, the small blind moved all in. I made an easy call, he showed A-A, and the river was a blank, giving me another large pot. There was a 9 in every big pot I had played thus far! I had sucked out twice, although all the money went in when I had the best hand. So that was a plus, I suppose.

My stack was approaching the $800 mark. I figured that I'd play for 15 or 20 more minutes and then get up and go. Scott was waiting, since he'd taken a bad beat, gotten stacked, and lost interest in playing any further. I played one more big hand before I left that night, though. The cards were dealt, and an early-position player raised to $12. There were three callers, including the button, before I was to act out of the small blind. I had 5 6, and decided to reraise to $50. Now, you're thinking, "What?" This is a play that I like to make when playing deep-stacked in a cash game - for a few reasons. One, I can take down the pot preflop by representing strength if nobody has a premium hand. Two, it masks my real holding in postflop play. If I happen to flop a monster draw or even three of a kind, nobody will put me on it. If an ace or king flops, I can certainly represent having a set as well. And, if I'm called, I don't mind seeing a flop with this kind of hand.

With that said, the early-position raiser called, while everybody else folded. The flop was 7 4 J, giving me an open-ended straight draw along with a flush draw. My opponent had slightly more than $300 behind him. I bet out $75, fully comfortable with committing $300 or so more if I had to on this flop. He called. The turn was the 2, giving me my flush. At this point, I figured he might have had a set of jacks, perhaps Q-Q, maybe 10-10. If he had an overpair or J-J, he would bet out at this turn if I checked to him. So I did.

My opponent moved all in without hesitation, and I beat him into the pot. The river was the A, but it didn't matter. He turned over A-J for top two pair, and I raked a pot with slightly more than $400 of his money with my flush. At that point, I decided it was time to go. I cashed out my chips at the desk, and counted $1,200 in crisp $20 bills. I peeled out $200 for Scott, handed it over, and we parted ways soon after that to crash back at home. Between margaritas, nachos, and poker, I couldn't have prescribed a better night.