I woke up and rolled out of bed in time for 12 noon checkout. I was still pretty disappointed in having my worst session ever the night before, but knew that I had a long day of grinding ahead of me and the games should prove juicy.
In my first orbit I flopped a small straight and won a decent sized pot. Soon after I made a standard raise with KK, and then took down the pot with a continuation bet. Early on I was up over $100, and feeling good to be headed back in the right direction.
I was paying good attention to the table, even after I had folded, and soon an interesting pot developed. Raised preflop with 3 callers, the flop came 10sQsKs and the original raiser bet out $100. Another older guy smooth called and the young asian with sunglasses flatted as well. It was pretty obvious there were some big hands out and I was trying to decide who had what.
The turn paired the board with the 10h, and the original raiser checked. Hmm, maybe he had aces with the As and now is afraid his flush draw might not even be live. Next to act then bet out $100 which certainly seemed like he probably had a big hand (because he had bet pretty small). Young competent Asian kid then smooth called the $100, which simply had to be a big hand, and before I could try to assign ranges the original raiser (who had checked the turn) moved all in. My first thought was that he had quad tens (everyone checks when they make quads!), as it was the only thing that would really make sense to me.
Immediately the older gentleman pushed, and the young Asian snap shoved all in as well. My heart leapt. Zomg, bad beat one time. I said to the guy next to me: “Bad beat right here, let’s do it.” There was a good chance in my mind we were at least drawing live at it.
Sure enough, young Asian insta-tables AsJs for a flopped royal flush. Perfect! The older gentleman tabled KK for kings full. Zomg, king on the river one time dealer! Wait a minute…the original raiser has quad tens right? I open my mouth to ask if he has tens, queens, or aces (the only hands that make sense to me), but before I can get the words out he rolls his hand over and there they were, the most beautiful two tens I’ve ever seen in my life.
I hop out of my chair, as I’m the first one at the table who realizes what happened. I look at the two tens in front of the old guy, and then look at the board to verify that there are indeed two more tens there. Two tens in his hand, plus two tens on the board equals four tens, imo. I’m not seeing this wrong.
Then I look at the board again and see 10sQsKs, which seems to match up with the Asian’s AsJs perfectly to make a royal flush. By the time I’ve verified 100% that there’s no mistake and we have indeed hit the bad beat jackpot, the dealer has burned and turned the meaningless 7c, and the table has realized that we’ve won as well. Almost instantly there are a bunch of floor people and onlookers crowded around the table to get a view of what happened. I verify one last time that the tabled hands do indeed represent a qualifying combination.
I think back to if there had been any conversation during the hand that could possibly disqualify us…there hadn’t. I can’t remember what I folded, but reassure myself that I haven’t left my seat in the hour or so that I’ve been there, and was surely dealt in the hand.
As the floor comes over and confirms that we’ve won, I do some quick mathematics in my head. 40% of 176,000 is around 70k. Divided by 8 people at the table and my share should be almost $9,000. Ship it! This sure makes up for how bad I ran last night.
After a little while the guy two seats to my left announces that he had been in the bathroom and, though he saw the hand take place, he wasn’t dealt in and was therefore ineligible. Perhaps it’s a bit cynical, but my first thought was “Ship the extra 1k and change.”
The nice fellow to my right points out that, without his bathroom run, the jackpot wouldn’t have been hit at all and the table should all throw some money in to give this guy something.
I’m not overly thrilled with this idea, but I guess I’ll go along. As we sit and wait for the paperwork to go through though (and for Stan to review the tapes and confirm we won), the guy who had been in the bathroom starts telling everyone he sees that “They wouldn’t have won without me. Now I am not getting anything. Everyone should give me some money so I don’t walk away empty handed.”
He was telling floor people, people who were looking on, and he made it a point to tell everyone at the table pointedly more than once. Before long, he was outright begging for money and acting as though he was entitled to a significant amount. Because I hadn’t agreed to anything, he seemed determined to keep mentioning it as often as possible while looking in my direction. At one point, a railbird said “They should give you something, man.” to which he stared right at me and said “I know they should. I can’t control whether they do the right thing or not.”
That was the moment when any chance of me giving him so much as a white chip went out the window. I don’t think I’m a particularly greedy person, and I probably would have thrown him something if I had been playing with him for a long time, I really liked him, or what have you. Because of his behavior though, and because I felt strongly that he was trying to pressure and shame me into giving him something, I decided resolutely not to give him a dime.
I had to think about what to tip the dealer though. Generally, I’m not a crazy tipper. I’ve never in my life tipped more than $1 for a pot, and frankly I don’t understand it at all. I see people go on rushes and start tipping the dealer $5, $10, and $15 at a time, and am constantly baffled by the damage they are doing to their hourly rate. Just to be clear, I’m not a stiff. I do tip when I win pots, but I only tip $1 and my tip amount obviously doesn’t change based on the size of the pot. Excellent dealers get tipped extra by me at the end of their down, bad dealers get tipped nothing.
In this case though, I think I would have to make an exception to my normal practice of $1. It was customary, after all, to tip the dealer more when the Bad Beat Jackpot is won. Also, while not exceptional, the dealer had not made any mistakes and seemed a nice guy. He was decidedly NOT pandering for tips, and answered appropriately whenever someone asked him about how much he had been tipped. That being said, it seemed crazy to me to tip extravagantly, as while I don’t mind giving away money, I have many broke friends who I’d rather give a couple hundred dollars to then this dealer.
Ultimately, I decided on $50 plus whatever whites I had, which ended up being $57 or $58. I did sort of feel cheap but ultimately felt that was fair. I was very happy to see that the winner of the biggest share ($70k+) tipped the dealer a very generous $2500. This all but eliminated any feelings of cheapness I had, as the dealer had certainly been generously taken care of, even if it was by someone besides me.
After around an hour, they came with our paper work, and my decision to rack up was pretty easy. I was more than satisfied with how my day wound up, and had no interest in doing any more grinding.
I went to the cage and they handed me the cash (I would have preferred a check but whatever) and I called it a day.
I’m thrilled at my good fortune, and it will certainly allow me to fully enjoy my July 4th weekend, which I plan to spend drinking beers and barbecuing with my friends. For the moment at least (until my next downswing!) life is good.
Bad Beat jackpot results: $10,069.