Saturday night at the Bellegio. Ive been playing 2-5 No Limit for about three hours. Every once in a while you get a real loud mouth in a game one of those know-it-alls who for some reason are not playing the higher limits (because they usually SUCK). This goof was mid-thirties, fat with a sun visor and an Angles jersey. And as much as you dont want it to be, the focus becomes wanting to bust the jerk.

I bluffed him with nothing in a small pot, and I showed him the hand. This clearly raised his blood pressure and he started saying: Oh, look at the superstar. And then, pointing, he said: Ill wipe that smile off your face.

Two hours later. Im dealt KQ suited in early position . . . I limp, and the jerk makes it $30. Typically, I would not call here, but I made an exception for the jerk. Flop comes KKA . . . so I have trips with a good kicker but two hands (AA and AK) have me dominated. I check . . . Jerk bets $40. I hesitate for effect, and call the $40. I truly believe that I am either beat bad, or he has nothing.

The turn comes K! . . . which makes me FOUR KINGS! I check . . . and he bets $80. Now, here is where I played the player . . . he had about $400 left (I had him covered); typically, Id raise about $120 and then push for his $280 on the River. His most likely hand was an Ace/something, and if he had that Id probably get all his money either way. If he was bluffing, Id get no more money if I showed any strength. But an under-pair was very possible, and knowing the ego of the Jerk, I decided to put him to the test . . . so I smooth called the $80.

River came a low card, and immediately I say All In . . . He jumps out of his seat, eyes bugging saying: What could he have? If hes got the King, he wouldnt bet that. I CALL! With a true poker face I turn over the KQ, and he literally explodes. I cant believe that! What a stupid bet!! He should have bet less to guarantee getting some of my money.

Then, the player next to him, who the Jerk had been berating all night said, Yeah, but this way he got ALL your money.

I loved that. And even better, the Jerk turned over AA . . . I only had ONE OUT on the turn!!

The Jerk stayed another ten minutes complaining. I stacked my chips slowly.

An hour later, I walked over to Ceasers for the NBC heads-up championship (to meet Marco), and to my delight I saw the Jerk, talking to someone with waving hands, telling his bad beat story. I wanted to ask to take his picture for this blog post, but even I thought that might be taking it too far.