That Time a 6-7 Offsuit Shove Ruined My Tournament (and Taught Me Everything)

It’s a feeling every tournament poker player knows all too well. The slow grind, the folding of trash hands, the waiting. Then, finally, a moment of light. You look down at your cards and see them: Pocket Jacks. A beautiful, powerful hand. You put in a standard raise, feeling good. Feeling in control.

And then it happens.

Some absolute ding dong, from out of nowhere, shoves their entire stack into the middle. All-in. Just like that. Your brain short-circuits for a second. What could they possibly have? Aces? Kings? Sure, maybe. Queens? You’d be in rough shape. But something about the play feels… off. It’s too aggressive, too reckless. You agonize, run through the possibilities, and finally, you click call. Your tournament life is on the line, but you have a premium hand. You have to.

The cards are flipped. And you see it. 6-7 offsuit.

You can practically see the hand history in your mind's eye—a digital monument to sheer lunacy like the one in this screenshot. Your glorious pocket Jacks, a pre-flop monster, staring down a hand that belongs in the muck. It's the kind of moment that makes you want to throw your monitor out the window. How could anyone play like this? Who is this person?!

The Villain Reveal We Never Saw Coming

Well, here's the thing. The "ding dong" who made that ridiculous shove? It turns out he was a four-year-old.

Yeah, you read that right. The mastermind behind the tournament-busting, 67o-shoving play was a little kid who was just happy to be clicking buttons on his dad's computer. Suddenly, the rage melts away and you’re just left with… laughter. It’s a perfect poker story. The absurdity, the innocence, the way it perfectly mimics the chaos we sometimes face at the felt.

Honestly, it’s not even the worst play I’ve seen. Some folks online even joked that the kid would probably raise the dad's hourly win rate. And you know what? They might not be wrong. There's a certain un-exploitable quality to someone who doesn't even know the rules. They’re not thinking about ranges or pot odds; they’re thinking, “Ooh, a big red button!”

This little moment of family bonding at the poker table opened up a whole can of worms, with people chiming in with their own stories and hilarious takes. Someone deadpanned, "Dad, I was on the button!"—the classic justification for any loose play. It's the kind of dark humor that only poker players can truly appreciate. The whole situation is just so relatable because, let's face it, we've all been stacked by someone playing like a kid who just learned what the "all-in" button does.

Welcome to the Bad Beat Anonymous Meeting

Of course, a story like this is basically an open invitation for every player to share their own tales of woe. And boy, did they ever. It’s like a group therapy session for the poker-afflicted.

One person lamented getting their pocket Aces cracked by 7-6 offsuit when a straight hit the river. Another shared the fresh pain of busting a tournament with Aces against a lowly Queen-seven. It’s a universal experience. You wait for what feels like an eternity for a premium hand, get all your chips in good, and then watch in horror as the poker gods decide to smite you for their own amusement.

One story was a particularly brutal trilogy of pain. First buy-in: Aces-Kings on a King-high flop, only to run into a set of threes. Ouch. Second buy-in: Pocket Kings all-in pre-flop against pocket sevens, and a seven spikes on the flop. Absolutely sickening. Third buy-in: Pocket Queens all-in pre against Ace-ten, and you already know what came on the flop. An Ace, of course.

It's a brutal reminder that poker can be a cruel, cruel game. You can do everything right and still get crushed. These stories aren't just complaints; they're badges of honor. They're the scars that prove you've been in the trenches. We share them not just to vent, but to connect. To know we're not alone in our misery.

But What If The Kid Was a Genius?

Amid all the commiseration, a few interesting points came up. Is a play like shoving 6-7 offsuit always wrong? One person pointed out that if you're short-stacked, you can't always wait for the perfect hand. Sometimes you just have to pick a spot, go with it, and pray. It's not a recommended strategy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Then there's the classic poker cope: "Imagine if you won the all-in though. He knew something you didn't." It’s a joke, but there's a kernel of truth to it. Unpredictability is a weapon. When your opponent has no idea what you're doing, it's because you might not even know what you're doing. It's the four-year-old's GTO.

The conversation even drifted into the generational aspect of poker. Some folks talked about teaching their own kids the game—not for gambling, but for the math and strategy. One dad proudly mentioned his 11-year-old daughter is already crushing play-money games. It’s a game of skill, after all. And maybe, just maybe, starting them young on the right path—learning the odds, reading situations—is the key. It sure beats learning multiplication tables the old-fashioned way.

A Lesson in Chaos and Laughter

So, what started as a classic "I can't believe this guy" poker rant turned into something more. It became a funny, heartwarming story about family, chance, and the beautiful absurdity of this game we love. The infamous 6-7 offsuit shove wasn’t some 5D chess move. It was just a kid having fun.

And that’s a pretty great reminder for all of us. We study, we analyze, we stress over every decision. But sometimes, poker is just chaos. Sometimes, a four-year-old is going to shove with junk and you’re going to have to decide what to do about it. It’s a reminder not to take it all so seriously.

At the end of the day, a hand that could have ended in a tilted rage quit instead became a legendary story to tell. And isn't that what poker is all about? The memorable moments, the wild stories, and the community you share them with. Even if it means your tournament gets ruined by a future poker prodigy who just learned how to click a mouse.