Gotta get by
with a little help from my friend. That isn’t my favorite Beatles side. But, it is probably the only way I can come up with a reasonable poker post.
The hand in question is on Brother Mojo’s site. His role in this approaches a revival preacher shouting to REPENT!. Hallelujah, Brother Mojo, Hallelujah!
I am not talking about the title hand. Those are nice but easy to forget. Hell, I have to work at remembering my Royals. What is a bit memorable is that he got someone to play against him.
No, I am talking about the latter hand. It is one of those nightmare situations that leaves you feeling dirty. Life is filled with those and those always reappears and reappears. It is a cousin to Post Traumatic Shock. Its kin to the nightmare where you notice you are naked in church or can only run in slow motion from the evil. The only way to enjoy such a hand is from the rail or from the chair next to the analyst’s couch.
Pot odds, position, blinds, risk:reward, and another dozen are topic we love to argue — sober and not. This hand can offer all the above for both saints and sinners.
Look at the hand. Look at the options. Every hand is a kill for hand at times and a death trap at others. On the flop the best hand is still a dog to the odds. What is not to like or hate here. The two looser are a card away from winning and, if Mojo turns the flush the third best hand isn’t drawing dead. And that’s a vice-versa too.
Our three heroes have their swords out and swing at the Gordian Knot. Hilarity may or may not ensue.
You have to love that hand. It is every good about poker while being everything bad.
We should remember that one man is much the same as another, and that he is best who is trained in the severest school. — THUCYDIDES