Teddy KGB Didn’t Have Shit

Allotta guys spend allotta time on the internet analyzing what Teddy KGB’s (John Malkovich’s) poker hand must have been in the final hand of Rounders, when Teddy famously loses it all to Mike McDermott (Matt Damon) and then tells Gramma to “Pay that man his money.” One the greatest scenes in one of the greatest movies of the 90’s, the decade acknowledged by anyone with a brain and/or testicles (or a single testicle, not to discriminate) as the greatest decade for movies in the history of movies.

Since the late 90’s, this single iconic scene from Rounders has provided me and my friends (and other guys I spend time with) so many lines that we still repeat to this day, whether gathered around a deck of cards, a craps table, or on a text string. To wit:

  • “No, no, no. He beat me. Pay that man his money.”
  • “I can go on bustin you up all night.”
  • “In my club, I will splash the pot whenever the fuck I please.”
  • “He lays down the monster.”

Maybe not so much the last one, but there are probably a couple that I missed, so whatever. Check it out for yourself.

But here’s the funny thing, and what got me back into the blogging game. All these young poker players online, with their blogs and their YouTubes and their TikTok’s, are all online analyzing and breaking down KGB’s bets on each round of that last hand, trying to figure out how he lost, or why he bet what he did. They of course know better, and argue he should have done this or done that. These fuckers, however, miss the point of the entire movie. And more importantly, poker was an entirely different game back then, on several levels. This iconic scene from the best poker movie ever must be understood in the context of history, which I will now endeavor to explain.

So where to begin. I think there are four main points here.

First off, in 1998 when Rounders came out, Texas Holdem was not the only poker game played, like it essentially is today. In the 80’s and 90’s, we played Texas Holdem at times, but the games were usually Dealer’s Choice, with each dealer picking the game as the cards went around the table. The dealer’s game could be a standard poker game, like 5 card draw or 7 card stud, or one of those games with wild cards or multiple rounds (7 Card Reckum, Jacks or Better to Open, Trips, etc.), or a variation of those games fucked up by the way the cards were laid on the table (Criss Cross) or played from a blind hand (Baseball). OR, and this was usually where I came in, we played games that required a loser to match the pot, such as Guts or Kentucky, and the doubled pot stayed for the next round, with the loser taking it in the ass and the pot growing and growing and growing until some guys were writing markers that a winner may or may not be able to collect, which is another story. And yea, sometimes we played Texas Holdem, but not exclusively.

Admittedly, the World Series of Poker has been a Texas Holdem tournament game since the 1970’s, but it was originally a cash game with a variety of poker games. People forget that. Regardless, Texas Holdem didn’t catch on with most poker players until the 2000’s when ESPN started broadcasting the tournament.

But the point is that we played a lot of poker back in the day, but different types of games, and developed a feel for what might or might not win. We weren’t using statistics or following rules or what some book said to do in a particular situation, like it was Blackjack and there was a chart of hands. There were no right answers. That was the state of play at the time of Rounders. All the YouTube “experts” analyzing Teddy KGB’s game forget that.

Here’s what else they miss from 1998. Back in the day, we couldn’t get on a computer and play thousands of hands, and tournaments all night every night, learning what hands to play to start, and how to bet them against a big blind raise, or a second position check raise compared to the size of the pot and all that shit these tech geniuses study and talk about these days. All we had in 1998 was our smarts and our guts and our testes, and a pregnant wife who would yell down the stairs to the basement that it was time for all of your friends (and the other guys there) to go home because it was late and we were keeping her up.

So back to Teddy KGB and his decisions in that iconic scene, and the three other points the movie is about, namely, Tells, Bluffs and being On Tilt.

The key plot of the movie is obviously Teddy KGB’s Tells with the Oreo cookies. In the second to last game shown, after a shitty but connected flop, Teddy opens his Oreo cookie, and then eats it. Damon has a pair of Kings. Damon folds, but shows the Kings, letting Teddy KGB know that he has figured him out, which made no sense whatsoever except for the plot development. Teddy then throws his Oreo’s against the wall right by Gramma’s ear, knowing that Damon has treated him like he had just torn down the Berlin Wall.

Tells are a real thing, you guys. And that was the main point and poker lesson of the movie, along with “You can sheer a sheep many times, but skin him only once.” Amarillo Slim held to his father’s maxim on that point.

That was the point of the movie, that Teddy had a tell. I was shown in the movie and you could pick it up if you paid attention. That was good enough for us back then, and in my book, it still us.

And on the other two points, Teddy doesn’t have a hand. He is bluffing the entire time on that last hand. Maybe he has a ten, who gives a shit. HE IS BLUFFING. But more importantly, Damon knows Teddy is ON TILT (also a real thing). He busted him up and he will do irrational shit. So Damon doesn’t bet the nut straight and lets Teddy KGB go full wild Russian on whatever bullshit hand he had and couldn’t read because he was blind drunk on vodka and Oreos. Makes perfect sense.

But those were simpler times, and probably more fun, if we are being honest with one another. No need to analyze whatever hand he had.

Or maybe he had a pair of 10’s and wasn’t bluffing. Who the fuck knows.

Gnoob Won’t Blog

We’ve been in something of a tizzy over on the String this last week as Gnoob has been regaling us with the tale of his trip to Phoenix . . . in a Sprinter Van . . . in a blizzard . . . with no headlights. I know what you are saying — sounds like a great story, what’s the issue?  Well you’re right, even though it didn’t involve Gnoob abducting a hooker, it is a riveting story.  The problem is that it is a looonnnnggg story and it took Gnoob the entire week to get the story out.  In other words, its a story made for the MWAG Blog. We tried to get him to move the sordid tale over here, but to no avail.  He said that the text string was his “medium” or some bullshit.  I really think he is just intimidated by having to prepare a proper blog post.  He is Gnoob for a reason:

7168d2ad-89a4-426e-9717-fc9d2aca8143

Given that this is the second best String Sprinter Van story (the other one’s top secret, but Karen can verify) and since, much to our initial disappointment, it doesn’t involve Gnoob abducting a hooker or doing anything more than Gnoob being Gnoob, I have decided to share it with you since Gnoob is being a bitch and won’t do it himself.  So, without further ado, here’s the story of Gnoob’s recent trip to Phoenix.

Continue reading

Spotify is OK, I Guess

2019-01-10 spotify

Inspired by SeaDick’s blog of yesterday covering the latest music, I planted myself in front of my laptop and ridiculously giant extra screen to blog about the Sopranos’ anniversary.  Figured I would acknowledge the truth of SeaDick’s allegations regarding my musical proclivities, and move on with some deep thoughts about the greatest television show of all time.  Having been called out by SeaDick, I had to at least give him the goddamn common courtesy of checking out this “Spotify” thing, and the new music he is promoting.  Anyway, this is awesome!

Continue reading

Best of 2018 (or my continuing effort to drag Pipes out of the 80’s and 90’s and into the music of today)

SeaDick is back bitches!  I of course say that with nothing but affection.  I see my brother Pipes has published a few of his “premier” blog postings to keep you entertained in my lengthy absence.  As for my absence, all I can say is I’ve been a little busy and “priorities.”  But never mind, I’m back and I promise to try to provide you (all 11 of you) with my scintillating insight about the important stuff we follow here on the MWTGB.  To that end, as is my habit, with the turning of the calendar to 2019, I’ve spent some time thinking about the great things that came our way in 2018, especially music.  I was further inspired by the receipt of this in the mail:

58B6D63D-1732-41D4-8A2B-77D24C57B11C.jpeg

I know what you are saying:  “What the fuck is that?”  Well, its “Spargs Best of 2018” in CD form of course.  The obvious follow up question is “what the fuck is a CD?”  It’s an outdated format for recording and listening to music.  Then again, when I received it in the mail from my good friend and fellow music lover Spargs, the first reaction I had was “how the  hell am I going to listen to this?”  So the side story is that Spargs likes to take a stack of these anytime he goes out to a bar and pass out a few of these as conversation openers.  I’ll let you guess who gets the lion share of these things and it’s not middle-aged dudes.  But I digress.  As it turns out, Spargs isn’t a complete Luddite so he also makes his best of available on Spotify.  Here ya go:

Spargs knows his tunes, so give it a listen.  While there is usually a good deal of overlap between Spargs and me, our tastes do diverge a bit and, as stated at the outset, I am a on my annual Sisyphean task (look it up Gnoob), trying to get Pipes to listen to some music created after 1998.  Now he will tell you that this isn’t a fair comment, that in fact that he does listen to new music and he will undoubtedly point to Greta Van Fleet.  My obvious response will be that he gets no new music credit for listening to a Led Zeppelin cover band.

In an effort to avoid getting into that debate again however, I’m just going to throw some music from 2018 out there in the hopes that he will give it a listen and up his game.  I’m going to start with something that ought to get his attention as well.  A great musician who has a social conscience and isn’t afraid to let the world know it.  I may not always agree with Pipes on the political issues of the day (what he won’t admit is that I agree with more of them than he is willing to acknowledge), but I can’t argue with most of the messages that Will Hoge includes in his latest album, My American Dream.  I’m pretty sure that Pipes will agree with all of them.  Will Hoge is hard to classify — Americana, country, country rock, singer-songwriter — labels always seem problematic to me.  What I will say about him is that he’s a helluva musician.  If you like Mellencamp (that’s to pique Pipes interest) or Isbell (one of my all time favs), you will like Will Hoge.  Give it a listen.

More to follow of course as 2018 was a pretty good year in music, but fair warning Pipes, I’m not ranking them.  Deal with it.

SeaDick out.

I Got Caught Watching Porn But I Did Not Have an Affair

Trump and Stormy

 Some MAGAt Trumpster at the Federalist delivered a broadside last week claiming that “You’re Not Allowed to Knock Trump for Stormy Daniels If You Watch Porn.”  Yes, that was the actual headline.  The full article is here.  So many ways to go with this one, but let’s just hit the high points and then take a deep dive into the logic at play which, although erroneous, is kind of interesting.  And, that headline will be a little confusing at first, especially for Republicans, but I promise I to tie this all up like a Christmas bow by the end.  So hang in there.

Continue reading

Did I Get Roofied in Cabo, or am I a Lightweight? An Investigation

IMG_0077 (Edited)

Got a call from Mongo a few weeks ago, who was in Cabo for the week for a wedding.  Mongo asked me to come down to Cabo to work on a proposal we needed to get done to get some new business.  Mongo said he was staying in some ridiculous house in Cabo, with its own pool and a “casita.”  A “casita” is a “small house or outer building.”  Mongo said I would actually be doing him a favor if I stayed in the casita so he wouldn’t feel like he was wasting money having that little house out there sitting empty.  Wanting to help Mongo out, and considering that the stay would be as free as the salad at Olive Garden, I grabbed a flight to Cabo to go work on the proposal. 

I may have been roofied in Cabo.

Continue reading

Brothers in Arms

Bronson wash

Jake and I still debate whose idea it was to get Bronson.  The idea to get another dog was probably mine.  But I swear to your god and mine that it was Jake’s idea to get a Rottweiler.  I had never even met a Rottweiler.  I had only seen them in the movies.  A scary brute, silently guarding the estate or junk yard, available, if necessary, to kill or maul any intruder. Continue reading

Life Goes On

Stages of greif

The kids and I left for Florida the day after Trish’s funeral.  The trip served a couple of purposes.  Mainly we needed to get Alexa back to school for the end of her freshman year at the University of Miami.  We also needed more time to spend together as a family, just the five of us, and figure out how this new life might work without Trish.  So on the Thursday after Trish died, the day after her funeral, we loaded up the family truckster and headed out on the 24 hour drive for South Florida. Continue reading