SHOW ONE SHOW ALL!

When Andy stumbled into our little snake pit, we know he had no chance. Not because he was drooping around like someone who had washed down his quaaludes with Jack Daniels, and not because he lacked basic card sense. There was no way to tell if he did or not. That’s because this was his first time ever playing poker for money, as in, ever. Have you read “Shut Up and Deal” by Jesse May, the part toward the front, where he talks about poker being an easy game to play? Jesse points out that because of the assistance that dealers and players can give to other players, all you really have to be able to do is not fall out of your chair, and you can play poker. Andy was still in his chair.

Let’s set the scene. The year: 1991. The place: a crazed home game with a house dealer. The stakes: $3/6 fixed limit. The games: hold’em and Omaha, alternating each round. The Omaha was not hi-lo. We’re talking 10-handed high-only limit Omaha here, a twisted gumbo of gamble.

There was no checking in this game, which is vital to the story. Yup, you heard right. You could bet, raise, call, or fold. And that’s it. No checking. The only name for this structure I’ve ever heard is “bet or get,” meaning “bet or get out.” If you are first to act, your only options are to bet or fold.

In this structure, the button moves one seat to the left after every street. Let’s say seat 3 is first to act on the flop. On the turn, first action would be on seat 4, or whoever the next player to the left is. On the river, same thing, first to act moves to the next player to the left.

I’ve played in home games where folding was frowned on as stingy and unsporting. Not here. This player pool was so loose and loving that if you had to fold before the hand was over, you got genuine sympathy. If you’re picturing these games as chip-hurling brawls, you got it right. Let’s get back to Andy…

After a couple rounds, Andy had settled into a betting strategy that everyone was happy with. Every time it was Andy’s turn, we would tell him how many chips to put into the pot to call, and then he’d do it. He never raised and he never folded. Andy was kind of slow with the chips, so we did not wait for him to finish his calling before the action moved on. The result was that Andy was continuously putting chips into the pot on every hand. I was sitting next to Andy and I was his main helper, as to betting and showing down and tipping and such.

And then the most spectacular round of river betting I have ever seen happened. The game was $3/6 limit Omaha, hi-only. Andy was last to act on the river. There were two other players in the hand, we’ll call them A and B. Player A was first, which meant he had to either bet $6 or fold. He folded. Player B was next. Player B was facing an opponent who only on occasion had a vague sense of what he had. Player B must have had absolute squat because he folded too. Andy won the pot without a showdown.

The dealer started to push the pot to Andy, and a proud smile moved onto Andy’s face. He snatched up one of his cards off the table and cupped it in his hands so that he could show it to me, and only me. (The card was the ace of hearts. There were no aces or hearts on the board, but hey, it’s Andy.)

Immediately the howls came forth from the throngs: “SHOW ONE SHOW ALL! SHOW ONE SHOW ALL!”

Andy of course had never heard of this common, ancient rule, which states, “If you show someone your uncalled hand, then everyone is entitled to see it, but only after they do the show-one-show-all chant with disdain.”

Puzzled, but still able to understand English, and knowing that he had done something terribly wrong, Andy followed the instructions he had been given. He picked up his other three cards, and he showed them to me.

 

Add Comment