Poker Rage

Watch out for poker rage. It's real and it can be costly.

The other evening I sat down at an $8-16 Omaha High-Low game with a half kill. This means a player who wins a pot with over $60 must leave $12 on the table and the stakes go up by 50 percent. This can lead to some big pots of $500 or even more.

Right from the opening bell, the bets took off and poker rage erupted.

A new player had taken a seat. He bought in for $200 in chips and raised. When another player re-raised him, he capped the betting. WOW!

None of the other players folded. There was $130 in the pot and the dealer hadn't even flopped the cards. That was the way the game started and it got worse.

I didn't like the action. It reminded me of a shark attack when sharks are drawn to the smell of blood in the ocean and they all close in hoping to get a piece of meat.

The frenzy continued and I went through about $300. The table was a 'must move' and when the floor finally called me to move to another table, I was grateful. I took a seat at the other table and was relieved to see the people were playing a normal game. I settled down, allowed my blood pressure to normalize, and started winning. By the night's end, I had regained my losses and was ahead over $250 when I decided to call it an evening.

You can never predict when poker rage will take over a table. It can be triggered by one player or by a conglomeration of players who suddenly take off the blinders and want to gamble.

When this happens, my advice to you is to leave the table as soon as possible unless you are in a gambling frame of mind and have a lot of chips to expend.

Even if I win money at such a table, I don't enjoy the game. Nobody smiles. All of the players have the blood-lust of pirates who would whack off the head of their mother if she got in the way. That is not my style of poker.

When I am playing poker, I like things to go soft and gentle into the night. I don't want the music to be Ike and Tina Turner ripping through 'Proud Mary' or Jerry Lee Lewis pounding his piano to shreds before setting fire to it. That's not me. Give me a Sinatra ballad or Joni James any day.

After cashing in my winnings, I wandered over to the table where the shark feeding frenzy had exploded. Of the original nine players, only four were left. They looked exhausted.

My pockets bulging with cash, I said, 'Have fun, boys?'

Nobody answered. They didn't even look at me.

Whistling, I wandered off in the night, tipping a porter as I found my way to valet parking for the ride back home.

Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.

(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).