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Lead Story. July 24, 2001 "55""A buck and back a buck." Think that's Lymie raising his own gallows? Think again. That's Dano down over $50 bucks for the night and raising to the limit in Cincinnati. He's got 4 cards. So do a few others. Normally in a situation like this one I'd be thinking that Dano was in full kamikaze mode and raise him back. But I was already out with a weak hand. Though a few others were obviously thinking along the same lines. "I bet two buckets" I cringed. There's still another card to flop and I'd have been working a 27. Not a bad hand with all those high cards out. "I raise you two bucks" Last card. A king. There must've been $60 in the pot already and Dano has that look. His eyes point downward intently, occasionally drifting sideways, his -2.25 Accuvues bulging and straining to contain the miasmic firestorm irrupting behind their placid dominions. It's a look that straddles the fence bordering the brief but critical expanses of utter confusion and total confidence. It's the look that's always on Doc G's face right before he realizes (or is informed that) he miscalled his hand. Fists unfold around a mountain of chips and cash. I don't really remember who went up against him but I do remember the trapdoor-like shock and the sound of jaws loosened from their hinges and thunking upon the felt as Dano uncaged his monster. "55." The near hundred dollar pot was split between Dano and whatever forgettable lucky schmuck went low. But not before each of us had his opportunity to stop and marvel at the hand to end all hands. Dano's magical 55. |
