The challenge for players like me is to the amount that the price is right to get them to fold the better hand. By accident, I stumbled upon a tactic that seems to work, regardless of position.

Let’s assume you are heads up with a notorious calling station and you have not found the price to get them to fold when you are looking for a fold.

The flop is something like K-Q-7 and you have middle pair.

Your opponent has top pair and he checks to you. You check back.

The turn brings a blank or even a scare card like an Ace or Jack or 10. Your opponent checks back. It is not in his or her arsenal to bet. The only moves they have is call or fold.

Regardless if there is a betting line on the felt or not, I always push my capped cards way forward. I do this so the cards are in plain view of everyone. Plus, it gives me room to count out chips.

Word to the wise: If you are at a table without a betting line and you count out chips in the space between your cards and the pot, those counting chips, by rule, become part of the pot. So, if you count out $100 and bet $50, the bet is really $100.

Ok … I grab a stack of $100 and carefully drop a stack of 5 reds behind my cards while I watch my opponent out of the corner of my eye.

He does not flinch.

I drop another $25.

No flinch.

I drop another $25.

He folds.

The important part is still pushing out the $75 into the pot as if you did not see the fold. This takes the “Hollywood” element out of the play and shows you were serious about making a bet here.

On my way to the table the other night, I spot this young lady dressed head-to-toe in Full Tilt clothes. She had a Full Tilt hat, Full Tilt jacket, Full Tilt shirt, and Full Tilt sweat pants.

Her bleach blonde hair was in pig tails. Top this look off with obnoxiously large sunglasses, and I think I am in some kind of Willy Wonka poker hell.

Flash forward a couple hours, and we get a new player at the table. A guy barely 21 years old. Goofy looking sunglasses. He is wearing a Full Tilt jacket with his name embroidered on the back shoulders and Full Tilt sweat pants. How cute.

He announces his arrival to the table, and takes his jacket off to reveal a Full Tilt shirt … you guessed it. His name is embroidered on the back shoulders.

Evidently, he and Ms. Full Tilt know each other. She comes over to the table and double high fives him.

“I shoved pre-flop with Motown and went runner-runner 5s to crack Aces,” she brags.

To pile on, the boy starts chanting lines from Full Tilt commercials.

Right before my very eyes, I see what is wrong with this game today.

It was a long night the other night. The table was ok except for a frustrating player in Seat 2.

For 5 hours, I watched this guy play every pot and get incredibly lucky. He went from $50 to $1800 in that time. In fact, I had a side bet with another player that this guy would be broke by 11PM.

I had to revise the timing twice based on the unfuckingbelieveable luck of this guy. My last time was last call: 1:30AM.

This guy got lucky on me twice for about $500 total. The problem with bad players like this, besides their divine luck, is that when their luck runs out, they give it all away to everyone. You rarely get all your money back from these guys.

His luck started running out during Hour #6. His stack dwindled down to less than $400 by the time I could get in a hand with him. It was 1:25 AM.

This player raised to $8 from under the gun. For 6 hours now, he has raised every pot to $8 regardless of what he held. And every single win came either on the river or was a runner-runner longshot. He has also slowrolled every player on every hand he won during this time, followed by a loud, over-the-top celebration.

For 6 hours, I have been waiting to pounce on this son-of-a-bitch. So, I re-raise on the button to $25 with A-Qd.

He plays back and makes it $50 to go.

I feel good about my hand and re-raise to $200.

He moves all-in and I call.

The flop comes As-9d-3d. I show the Queen. My opponent, now standing up, decides to show me a King.

I am ahead with the flush draw, but I know his other card is an Ace.

The turn is 7c. No help. I am a big dog to a big donkey.

I am thinking that a suckout would be justice here. Give me a Queen.

The river: Queen.

Before I could even think about slowrolling him, he turns over the Ace.

“Ha ha ha Sammy. I win!” he says as he does his little celebration thing.

“Live by the sword. Die by the sword. Motherfucker,” I say as I flip over the Ace for top two.

This clown goes on tilt and storms out of the room scratching is broke ass all the way down the elevator, probably wondering how he could get so unlucky.

I collect my side bet, and 4 players leave the game.

Why do some players:

get nervous with playable hands like A-A or K-K but be relaxed with unplayable underdog hands like 9-2 suited?

celebrate when they suckout against the odds, yet go on tilt when they get drawn out on?

fold a hand in late position to a live straddle for $4 but call the same hand in middle position to a $17 bet?

focus on looking the cards during a hand, then say they are playing the player and not the cards?

be very cautious in their profession – doctors for example – yet take huge, unnecessary risks at the poker table?

It is funny to me how poker can make some players (myself included) irrational at times. Like life, I guess some questions simply do not have answers.

I just might change this up soon to playing 8-3 off. I have been dealt that garbage well over 1,000 times in the past month. Some players joke about how that hand should be called the Sammy Wynn because I get it so much.

My win rate with 7-2 so far has been 100%. I really thought I was going to give up on it last night. Nothing was spoken during the hand – but here is what I was thinking the whole way:

“Fuck. It is getting late. Three more hands to the blinds, then I rack up.”

It is my turn to act, and I have 7-2 off in middle position.

“Do I risk it here or leave with with a tidy profit. Fuck it. Raise to $25 and see what happens.”

Action folds around to the button and he calls. The flop comes A-9-5 rainbow.

“I am out of position. Does this guy have an Ace? Maybe he thinks I have an Ace. Bet out $25 and see what happens.”

Insta-call.

“Fuck. Ok. Check the turn and see what this new player does. If he has an Ace or even second pair, he will probably bet. Then, I fold. He is not going anywhere.”

The turn is a 3.

“That card was no help. Check.”

My opponent checks behind.

“Really?”

The river is another 5.

“Perfect card. Maybe he has A-9 and put me on a 5? Is he solid enough to fold Aces up to possible trips? Bet $100 and if he comes over the top, just fold. Shit, this hand got expensive fast. Why the fuck did I play this hand out of position. Donkey. Ok, push $100 out.”

My opponent folded.

“Do I show? Fuck it. Show it.”

I toss the rags onto the board and scoop the pot.

“No reaction from anyone? What time is it? Damn! I can’t believe it is after 4:00 AM. I can’t believe I won that pot on the river without a showdown.”

The other day, I found myself in a hand heads up with a new player that just sat down at the table. He was the only caller to my pre-flop raise.

I have no idea what was on the flop. I never looked at the board. I watched my opponent the whole time.

I have no idea what my hole cards were, either. It felt like everyone was weak and I wanted to take down the small pot from half dozen limpers.

On the flop, I was first to act. I reach for chips and say to my opponent, “Did you check?”

He eyes me the whole time and says, “Yeah, I check.”

I toss out $25.

“You can’t do that Sammy,” the dealer tells me.

“He checked,” I reply.

“You are first to act.”

“Oh. I thought the button was … ok. I guess I check.”

I bet the turn and my opponent folded.

It was a twist on the act out of turn to gain information – only in reverse.

Bottom line: I was getting frisky to put a play on and steal a small pot.

Seat 7 was a young kid dressed in red hip hop swag from head to toe. He raised pre-flop to $20.

Seat 8 was an older gentleman who is a loose aggressive type player. He calls.

I called in Seat 9 with rags. I had jack squat. But, I felt I could outplay these players after the flop.

Seat 10 was a businessman from New York. He was playing fairly tight. And he called.

The rest of the table folded and we see a flop of Q-9-4 rainbow.

Check.

Check.

I bet half the pot to represent the Queen.

Fold.

Please fold. Please.

Call.

Shit.

Fold.

I am now heads up with the original bettor.

The turn is a deuce.

Check.

It feels like my opponent has pocket Jacks or 10s. Some kind of middle pair. It also does not feel like he is trying to trap me, or he would have check-raised me on the flop and not just check-call. He simply looked like he did not know where he was in the hand.

I knew exactly where I was: beat with jack squat. I really just wanted to take the pot down right here. I bet half the pot again.

Please fold. Please. Please.

He calls.

Fuck. There goes my profit for the past 2 hours.

The river is a 3.

Check.

My opponent started the hand with about $300 and is now down to about $67. The whole way, I wanted him to fold. Now, I am looking for a call. If he thought I was trying to buy it, I want him to still think I am trying to buy it on the river. I bet $50.

It is enough to make you stop and think value without the psychology of an “all-in”.

He tanks.

Please call. Please.

The whole way he almost insta-calls me when I have nothing. Now, he is pondering a fold.

The only word I spoke for the past two hours was “Raise.” Time to talk him into a call by talking him into a fold.

“I simply wanted to buy this pot. Let me have this one,” I tell him.

“I know.”

“I think you have a hand like A-K or A-10 and missed. Ace high is no good here.”

Nothing.

Really? The call the wrong hand trick did not work? Nothing is working.

“I was trying to represent the Queen. He thought I had a Queen [pointing to Seat 8] and he [pointing to Seat 10] thought I had a Queen. I am pretty sure everyone down there [pointing to the other end of the table] thought I had a Queen.”

“Do you have a Queen?” he asks.

“No. I don’t have a Queen. And you don’t have Ace high.”

Still nothing.

“The truth is I have been lying to you the whole way and now I am telling you the truth. And the truth is I am too embarrassed to showdown this hand. I went runner-runner 989-to-1 longshot to beat your pocket pair.”

“You did not call me with 2-3,” he says.

“Nope. I would let you look at one card, but I don’t want them to kill my hand when I have the stone cold nuts.”

“I call.”

He shows Jacks. I flip over 5-6 off for the nut straight.

Apparently, he missed the ESPN episode where Lon McEron said there are two ways to play pocket Jacks: fold them in turn and fold them out of turn.

There will come a time when a new game evolves from Hold ‘Em. Here is the next game I see coming:

The new  game will be a variation on Hold ‘Em. It has the same two down cards and 5 community cards dealt 3 on a flop, 1 on a turn, and 1 on the river. The changes I see start with the blinds. There will be one forced bet of a minimum amount, but no maximum. It will be the player’s decision on how much the blind amount is from hand to hand.

Then, there can only be one call for each bet from a new player entering the hand. So, let’s say a player ahead of you called the variable blind. Your only actions are to either raise or fold.

The min raise in the new game is not to double the bet. A min raise is triple.

The goal is to get the best 5 card hand, but you must use both hole cards to win. Oh, and you can use the turn or the river cards – but not both.

Why be such a pussy? Leave your real name and real email or leave the site alone.

Don’t get me wrong. I get it. If I lived with my Mommy and had to keep going back to her for stake money, I would be a hater like you, too. It sucks that live cash games are so much tougher than the free poker you get online in your Momma’s basement.

Instead of being a dickhead, why not prove to the world how good you are and play me sometime?

I will play you for any stakes anywhere anytime.

My only demand is the winner gets to use a Tazer on the loser.

Oh, and I get to blog to the other 300,000 readers on how the session went.

So, donkey boy, what do you say? You don’t have the balls to list your real name or email here. Do you have the stones to play me heads up?

How did a good session start? With almost 2 hours of folding unplayable hands and getting eaten alive by blinds.

Then, I went on a tear for the next 4 hours. I played 16 hands. I won 16 hands. I cashed out for a 3X profit.

A friend of mine told me that night that I was built to play. It sure felt like it that night. A nice encore to the previous session. For sure.