Severest Slowroll Ever?

[Tommy Angelo]

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Still, the best slow roll story of all was sung by Tommy Angelo on his CD of poker songs.

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Hi Rick!

I found an ancient file with the lyrics to "Slowroller" all typed up and ready for transport. Here ya go!

Tommy

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Slowroller

(Spoken, except for the chorus)

I want to tell you about a hand I played against this guy. I’ll call him Nimrod, and that’s being kind. He’s a work of art, a real beauty. Nimrod takes more shots than a one-armed golfer. He’s got more moves that a ballet troup. Man, he’s got more angles than a protractor. He’s . . . He’s ...


Chorus:

He’s a slowroller
He’s a ratholer
It don’t take long to discover
That he’s a card-marking string-raising mother
It’s true but sad, that some guys are just born bad



See, I’m not normally into getting revenge. I’ve turned the other cheek so many times, my neck hurts. But this hand here is a fair case of naturally occurring retribution — like when a maniac driver cuts you off and then a mile down the road you see him pulled over.

Nimrod is under the gun and he limps in. Everyone folds up to me. I’m on the button and I pop it. The big blind calls, Nimrod calls, and three of us take a flop. The flop comes: ten, eight, six, twotone.



The big blinds checks, Nimrod bets and I raise it. They both call.

The turn comes a deuce.

The big blind checks again, Nimrod bets again, and I raise again. They both call, but the big blind is one chip short, so now there’s two chips on the side between me and Nimrod.

The river pairs the deuce. Nimrod checks, and I check behind him.

Nimrod looks right square at me. He taps the table and he says, “I missed.”

Hoo boy, I’ve been down this road before. And it’s a slow journey.



I start doing my impression of a guy waiting for a bus. Everybody starts grumbling, like, c’mon you guys, somebody turn over a hand already.

So, the all-in guy, he turns over his hand. He shows pocket sevens, and I can tell from Nimrod’s cool reaction that he has that pair of sevens beat. I mean, if Nimrod can’t beat the sevens, then the most he can win is the two-chip side pot, and even Nimrod wouldn’t slowroll me over two chips, would he?

Nimrod says it again, “I missed.”

I’m like, Mm Hmm, right, sure ya did.



Finally, Nimrod turns over his hand. He shows Ten-nine suited, and puts on that pathetic smirk of his.

He had a flush draw. He had a straight draw. But the main thing is, he had top pair. Yeah, he missed all right. Everything but the flop. [censored].

I took one look at his hand and I popped a vessel. Nimrod? What the hell is your problem, dude? You got top pair and we check the river and you’ve got the unmitigated audacity to tell me you missed? You do this kinda thing all the time man. I think something went wrong with your wiring. What, d’you have a bad childhood or something? What the [censored]!



Now, I guarantee you, everyone at that table was thinking Nimrod had a winner with a pair of tens because of all the fuss I was making. Then I slooowly rolled my hand. I had a pair of tens too, but I also had a jack kicker, just enough to beat Nimrod’s nine and take down the pot.

I watched him while I was stacking the chips, and Nimrod was shook up pretty bad, but he sure as hell couldn’t say anything. That was the beauty of it. Everyone was glancing around and nodding, like a court passing judgement. They ruled my crime justifiable, on the grounds of an eye for an eye, and, because it was against Nimrod. And as we know …


Chorus:

He’s a slowroller
He’s a ratholer
It don’t take long to discover
That he’s a card-marking string-raising mother
It’s true but sad, that some guys are just born bad