(For the complete story be sure to read part 1)
It's now down to me and stoneface and it's my deal. He could buy me out at any time since he's got me beat by about $375,000, but he seems like a gentleman and he wants to take my money the hard way. It takes all of my concentration to avoid playing with and nervously readjusting my stacks as I know that Stoney will pick up on any weakness.
A couple hands later and the money situation is a little more evened out because I've been a little lucky, but I'm not so easily fooled. In the world of fast company this mother is the Flash and I wouldn't put it past old Wally West to have planned this all out. Gotta stay on my toes.
"I'll take two," I say in my surest voice possible.
It's his deal and he decides to take two as well, and as usual his face doesn't even twitch. I try to look deep into his eyes to read what move his soul might be thinking of but all I can manage is a quick glance. His vacant stare makes me uneasy. Not because I'm worried that he'll notice me watching, but because he might be trying to notice something in my eyes and I can't be sure that they won't betray me.
Stop it! I have to stop this line of thinking right now. My nerves are unraveling, and right in front of Stoney's big gaping eyes. I'm sure he's noticed to. He'd be able to look at my veins and see my pulse quicken so of course he'll notice this flop sweat. I've gotta be able to use this nervous energy to my advantage.
Paranoia aside, I manage to match his $25,000 bet and raise it another 50. A sum he abides to all too calmly before making his move. He doesn't go all in, he's too smart for that. I'm obviously on edge, and he's worried I'll fold. He might as well have went for broke though since he just raised my last $200,000. My two new cards are an ace of spades and a nine of diamonds, quite a bit helpful to the two aces I already have. Trips ace is a great hand but this guy is smart and betting much too strong for my tastes. He's beat me twice on a bluff before, although I can't be sure he isn't bluffing a bluff.
After what seems like an hour I manage to throw in the rest of my pot and I'm surprised at how easily the chips slide across the table. The damn things are all too eager to escape my sweaty grasp into the middle pile. By my estimation it's a little over half a mil and I realize I've never seen this much before. I'm embarassed to admit to myself that I can't figure out the exact amount but my mind's all over the place. It's taking all of my concentration to keep my composure.
He calls. We flip. And it's the first time this whole night I see a reaction on his face. Lucky bastard.
We shake hands and say our farewells but we do not leave on good terms. There's anger and deep feelings of suspicion hanging thick in the air. It isn't until I walk out into the cool night towards my truck that I'm able to start breathing again, and shortly after that I can think. When someone has such a shock to the system it takes them awhile to get their bearings straight.
What is it about the gambler that forces them to take risks? The petty thrill of it? How is a man supposed to know -- as Kenny Rogers says -- when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em? It's all a game of chance and the gambler plays the odds as best he can, but there's something to be said for experience in big game situations and in life.
Stonehenge had a four of a kind, all tens, and was confident in his victory. Too confident as it turns out because four tens will never beat four aces. And this time I can't help but smile as I pass a small covered garbage can and toss the nine of diamonds from my pocket into it. I wonder what he was thinking as he collected the few dollars he had left. I'll bet it was something about playing around with fast company, and I'll double that bet that the next time he's playing with a paranoid and sweaty fellow he'll question what it could be that would make a man that nervous.
bravo!
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