Matusow Steaming
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Both players checked the action after the draw. "Jack-nine," announced Matusow. Lisandro opened a jack-nine of his own: J-9-6. Matusow turned up his jack-nine to check his kicker and realized that every single card in his hand was a club, giving him a flush. He slammed his cards into the felt in frustration, sending one of them off the table.
The pot was pushed to Lisandro. Incidentally, Matusow's "jack-nine" was a J-9-7 and would not have won, even if he hadn't held all clubs. Nevertheless, Lisandro and Greenstein called a floor over to ask for a hypothetical ruling about what would have happened if Lisandro couldn't beat a "jack-nine" and had mucked his hand.
"We wouldn't be able to pull his hand out of the muck," the floor stated. "The pot would have gone to the player who mis-called and that player would have incurred a penalty." All players were subsequently warned that if anyone else mis-calls a hand, that person will incur an automatic one-orbit penalty.
Meanwhile, Matusow was beside himself. "I make my first move all night and I take it up the ass," moaned Matusow.
The very next hand, Tom Schneider opened for 25,000 and Barry Greenstein reraised on the button all in for 155,000. Matusow peeked at his cards and stewed.
"When I do sh*t like this, it snowballs," he muttered. "It always snowballs." Finally, he mucked. Everyone else mucked and Greenstein dragged the pot.
"If that whole thing hadn't happened," Matusow said to Greenstein, "I might have called there. But sh*t like this always snowballs. First, I misread my hand. Second, I wanted to find out what would happen if I came over the top after folding 36 hands in a row. I guess I got my answer.
"I know how poker works. It snowballs. I need to keep a positive attitude and mental energy. That's the new Mike Matusow."