Eli Elezra had just fired on fourth street, signalling a clear intention to get his entire stack of 3,000 into the pot against Timothy Frazin showing /.

Frazin had just flipped his entire hand face up: and was talking about potentially knocking Elezra out.

"Do I want him to stick aroud? Do I want to put a beat on him?" he questioned himself. "The fact you're practically my uncle is a factor. There are a lot of factors." He folded, having weighed the factors.

"With your chips, I'd have called!" said a tablemate.
"Me too! He had 3,000," said another.
"Lot of factors," Frazin reminded them.