Tran Lets Lewis Talk Himself into Folding

Action was picked up with 8,700 in the pot and a board of on the felt.

Austin Lewis led out for 10,000 from early position. Kenny Tran, one seat to his left, put in a raise to 20,000, and Lewis called.

The river paired the board for a second time. Lewis fired for 30,000. After a bit of deliberation and chip counting, Tran moved all in for 88,800. This sent Lewis into the tank, where he thought mostly out loud.

"Let me figure out what I can lose to here," he began. "Four nines?" he posited. "Spooky." Tran remained mostly silent, letting Lewis stew in his own thoughts. "Damn. You got pocket nines?" he reiterated. "This might be a bad fold if I fold this. I don't get it. I lose to like..." his voice trailed off as he threw his hands up in disbelief and confusion. "I can't think of what the fuck I lose to. Pocket nines. I lose to nine seven. I don't know. That's spooky."

Eventually, Lewis made the laydown, giving the pot to Tran. "Maybe you had a seven. I had a full house, a seven," Lewis said after the hand.

"One seven?" Tran inquired.

"One seven." Lewis responded, still in disbelief at what happened.