Oz & the Lucky Horseshoe

Last night, there was a reunion of sorts in DunDrum.

At about 8PM, we gathered at Henry & Sofia's for the return of Murderer's Row. Now, this is actually a bigger deal than it may seem, as this once weekly game has truly disintegrated since the move across the pond. So, it was with no small amount of anticipation that we gathered for the usual evening of drinking and donking around the stolen FTP poker tables.

To be perfectly honest, the game wasn't quite the same as the old Murderer's Row games of old. Many of the regulars were there; me, Henry, Sofia, Wampler, and Ephro. Many, however, were not, including Shyam, Franklin, and Facty (all in Venice for the weekend), Hanel, Lance, Ryan, and Speaker (all back in the states), and Rini (off playing with the monkeys in Gib).

To make up for the missing murderers, we supplemented the field with a number of guest players, including Ernest, Jeremy, Jose, and Oz, who probably wished he hadn't shown up at all. That's because he fell victim to the horseshoe that is, according to Mr. Bill, firmly planted up my ass.

Per my usual form, I played reasonably well throughout the tourney section of the evening, but fell out of contention before reaching the money. Nothing terribly new there. And, per my usual form, I ran over the post-tourney cash game. More specifically, I ran over Oz in the cash game. Or, to be even more precise, I hammered him over the head with the horseshoe.

The first bit of bad luck Oz ran into occurred fairly early on when I pulled what may have been the most brutal suckout of the evening. I limped into the pot holding 4-5 of spades, and hit middle pair on a flop of K-5-3. I bet and Oz called. The turn brought a 6, giving me the up and down draw, and giving Oz top two pair. I bet, he raised, and I donkishly called. The river brought another 5, giving me trips and the pot. Horseshoe 1, Oz 0.

A few hands later, we clashed again. This time, I got into the hand with 4-8 in the big blind. I flopped a gutshot with a board of 5-7-A. Ernest and I both checked the flop, and Oz bet out. Ernest called, giving me reasonable enough odds to call for my 6, which I promptly hit on the turn. Again, the action went check, check, bet. Ernest folded, and I flat called.

The river was a blank. I checked, Oz jammed, and I called, taking down the hand. At this point, the tilt was setting in. Oz remained civil, as he is want to do, but you could tell that his "Nice hand sir" actually meant "You fucking donkey." Horseshoe 2, Oz 0.

A re-buy later and Oz was back in the game. Things were pretty quiet for the next few orbits until Oz and I hooked up one last time for the night. This time, all the money went in pre-flop as Oz raised and re-raised from the button with Aces. Thinking I was making a move, Oz came back over the top and I called his all-in. As the money is being pushed toward the center, Oz says "I just have a pair", and turns up pocket Kings. "I've got a pair too" I say, turning up the bullets.

Horseshoe 3, Oz 0.

I tried to explain to Oz that there was nothing he could have done differently throughout the night. I just run well at Henry's game. Still, I don't think he wants to know of past history - he just wants to get even against me. I'm sure he'll have his chances. He just better hope I forget the horseshoe.