Someone Get Him Out of Here
In early position, Dori Yacoub opened the pot to 38,000. Action passed all the way around to Schwartz's big blind, and he announced an all in for about 300,000 total. That sent Yacoub into the think tank as he cut the calling chips out and studied the potential damage. Finally, he called.
"You got a pair?" Schwartz asked. Yacoub waited for Schwartz to open up his before showing his own , and the race was on. "What a donk call," Schwartz couldn't help himself. "This is the most guaranteed paint ever." He was right.
The appeared on the flop, and Schwartz, never one to be mature about losing, promptly shoved his towers of chips forward with a big heave, spilling them across the entire surface of the felt from one end to the other. The friendly chatter that the rest of the table was engaged in came to an abrupt halt; they just sat there, unsure of what to do as Schwartz stormed off to the rail. With a confetti of chips covering the playing surface, the dealer cleared a bit of working space and ran out the rest of the board. Schwartz continued to mumble and mutter to himself as the floor man tried to sort out which chips now belonged to Yacoub.
"I think all of the loose chips on the felt are his," Kevin said. It took another two or three minutes to gather up Schwartz's chips with the now eliminated poor sport pacing around the perimeter having a little tantrum all the while.
It was a truly eventful and enjoyable night of poker, right up until Mr. Schwartz decided that he couldn't handle losing. Once the commotion had started to die down, Schwartz tried to approach the table once again, and he had a few quick words with Yacoub before he was escorted toward the payout desk to pick up his small paycheck.