The ballad of Niall Farrell

We got the full Firaldo experience on this latest hand. He came in raising, 2.2k from middle position during our last level of the day, 500-1,000/1,000. Everyone ducked out of the way, until it came to Ionut-Catalin Mihart in the big blind, who had chips to spare. There was a lot of singing, but as Mihart put chips in the pot, Farrell’s phrases turned to narration.

The flop came out 9s 8d 2d and Farrell declared “I’m the winner, you lose!” like the antihero in an Irvine Welsh novella and Mihart checked. The continuation bet came in the form of 3 yellow 1k chips. Mihart called.

The turn was the 5s, another check from Mihart, another bet, 10k this time, from Farrell. Mihart called again. We had to cut most of the one-sided dialogue here for space.

The river was the Qc, both flush draws missed, but J-T got there. Mihart checked a third time and Farrell told everyone far and wide the following information: “I finally got there. Finally. Took me a while, but I got there in the end.” A pause. “I am glad I got there.” Your trusty correspondent did not keep pace with the voluminous commentary thereafter. As far as the hand history goes Farrell then bet five greens, 25k.

Mihart shrugged his shoulders, not sure what to make of the scene. He had maybe 75k behind, perhaps more, so it was not for his tournament life. He called.

“ACES!” Farrell declared proudly, brandishing two black ones in his right paw, looking a bit like a cat does in delivering a dead mouse to its owner’s front door. Mihart could not do him one better, but could do him exactly one worse. Inexplicably, he showed two red kings. The table could not fathom the discipline involved in his play. Call. Check call. Check call. Check call. He had somehow saved his tournament life from the cruelest fate in hold’em.

“I’ve never won a pot, but also lost a pot,” Farrell rued, flabbergast. “You should be out and you’re no out.” Everyone was flabbergasted to be perfectly honest with you. Farrell went on at some length to everyone’s bemusement, save perhaps the dealer’s. “How? How? How? I am at the only table in the whole tournament where I don’t send you broke. That’s absurd. I should have busted you and had you buy me a drink!”

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