Last Friday was a new chapter in the history of Sherwood Casino. For the first time ever, the poker players made a field trip. Mid-way through the game we got up for a brief visit to The Angry Scotsman pub down the street, the Angry Scotsman, of course being another “underground” establishment. Everything was great at the Scotsman, but after we were there for a while we realized that Harry had disappeared. So, we went back down to the poker basement, but no Harry. Oh well, he’s gotta be around here somewhere. Let’s give him another fifteen minutes and then we’ll call 911.

To usher in part two of the evening, I brought out the tourney chips and we fired up a sit-n-go with our cash game chips still on the table. Harry showed up before the end of the first blind level. His eyes were glassy and movements rigid. It turns out he was sucked into a gap in the time space continuum while we were at the Scotsman.

I had been drinking a lot, yes.

We tried out the new low hand jackpot. Andy won it with an ace high with a jack kicker. I had hoped the low hand of the night jackpot would usher in a lot of post flop bluffs, but I think because people were not used to it, it didn’t create the action I hoped it would.

My memory of the evening is kind of fuzzy, so you’ll have to excuse my lack of clear descriptions here. I know that at one point I was up a ton, but then I took a series of three of four bad beats slash coolers over a thirty minute period. Andy R. seemed to get a real kick out of this and nicknamed me David “Downfall” Prior. The worst of the hands was when I had tens filled with queens and lost to tens filled with kings. To be honest, I didn’t feel exceptionally confident with that hand, as there was also an ace on the board too, and who plays with 10s except people with KT and AT? So, luckily, when I was raised on the river I just called. Who says I can’t play poker drunk?

After that I lost a hand where I flopped two pairs heads up with somebody, and another where I think I had a straight. Andy was loving watching me lose again and again like it was some kind of painful comedy show.

At the end of the evening after cashing everybody out I stumbled upstairs to bed without even putting my chips or the rest of the cash away. We had to hit the road early in the morning to visit some friends on Cape Cod. I didn’t think about the poker game again until Sunday morning, when it occured to me that I had no idea how much money I’d won. I started thinking about how foggy my recollection of the end of the game was, and how revealing it would be to get home and look around poker basement.

Last night I counted up the remaining stacks that I’d paid out. This person had a hundred or so, that one around forty, I had $218, which wasn’t bad for buying in for $63 for the cash game and losing $20 in the SnG.