Kings are the New Jacks

Ended up going out in the middle of the pack in the WPBT tournament, when my kings ran into Drizz's rockets. Don't really mind going broke there, in theory, and it was pretty inevitable with no ace on the flop, but it was still one of those hands that I have to shake my head at myself for later.

We both had average stacks just after the second break, around 5,000 or so, and Drizz limped in front of me, and I raised to 800. Folds back around, and Drizz does the dwell-for-a-bit-then-limp-reraise-to-make-it-1800-more-oh-my-sweet-jebus-I-have-aces-please-please-please-reraise-me. And of course I do, shoving all-in, and he does, and that's pretty much all she wrote.

The sad thing is that I knew, as I was doing it, that I was playing the hand poorly. Drizz is a smart poker monkey and plays those silly four card games where you fold for 162,182 hands, waiting for the mortal nuts before lumping your money in, so there's no way in hell he's going to call my all-in with JJ or 1010, prolly not even QQ (not to mention that, umm, the last thing I want to do is drive those hands out). He's not going to play AK like that. Basically I'm praying he has the unlikely KK as well and not AA.

Granted, I'm not good enough to fold to his re-raise, but simply calling and seeing a flop is a pretty attractive option there with KK. I'm still likely going to go broke there when an A doesn't come, but I still have enough chips to get away from the hand when the board is super scary and/or riddled with aces and not be completely crippled.

But nay, I lump it all in pre-flop, even with every warning light available blinking very red. Poor.

The fun continued, too, as we had some big thunderstorms move through around one in the morning, which resulted in another epic battle of Scurvydog versus the back patio flood waters. Our back yard slopes so that excess rain water collects on the back patio and, while there are French drains installed, they weren't dug deeply enough when originally put in. So when we get massive, torrential rain (especially when it's been raining for a few days previously), they just throw up their hands and water creeps dangerously close to the sill of out French doors that open onto the patio.

(It appears I have the French to blame for all of these troubles, now that I think about it. Stupid frogs.)

It's flooded the living room once, leading to replacing the carpet, and last night was nearly a repeat, except I was slightly more prepared this time and able to at least hold the rising tide of water at bay with a wet/dry vac. Not exactly how I wanted to spend the hours between 1 and 3 in the morning, but it's better than a ruined carpet.