"Hello? What time is it?" is all I can say as I pick up the phone.
"It's 7am! Why are you sleeping? Nobody sleeps in Vegas!"
It's my father on the phone. He opens his business at 3am EST during the week, so he feels he's done me a "favor" by "letting me sleep" until 7am...Eastern time.
"Dad, you do realize today is Day 3 of the Main, right? You're ridiculous, I'm going back to bed."
His response, "That's why I didn't think you'd be sleeping. Good luck."
This is where deboarding the Mojito express early yesterday comes in handy. I'm tired, but not hungover...which is huge. I'm able to sleep a couple more hours before getting up at 7am...Pacific time. Unlike most mornings recently, I spring out of bed ready to attack the day. That 2x4 that's usually jammed between each half of my brain is gone.
Being up this early, I don't know what to do with myself. I'm not nervous, but anxious beyond belief. I head downstairs and rock out to some early morning fake Billy Joel on my way to the deli to complete the usual breakfast routine. After the last couple weeks of hating this place I think I may actually miss it...eh, not really.
I eat and head back down to the pool for some hot tub time. My card won't open the pool area and I almost break the door trying to get in when one of the pool area workers tells me they don't open for another hour. I realize I've been here for over 2 weeks and had no idea when the pool opened. This gives me an opportunity to take a quick walk and work out some adrenaline...I'm definitely fired up at this point.
It's been hanging over my head for a while now, but the thought that all of this will probably be over in a matter of hours really sets in. Not just the Main Event, but this whole trip. I've been in Las Vegas for 18 days; it's starting to feel like home. Everything I do every day seems so normal, like I'm just getting myself together to go to work. But in a instant, one wrong shove, one bad card, and I'm back on a plane to Baltimore like none of this ever happened. Back to the real grind. I hope I have more time.
I'm going to do everything possible to extend this trip. I have a flight scheduled for 11am tomorrow, but I have no intention of being on it. I need a deep run. My wife's reward for putting up with this trip is getting to go to the WSOP Europe when I cash the Main. I'm close, but I'm closer to elimination.
Out of the hot tub, I check my phone to a text from Chip that reads:
"I actually think you're going to double up the first hand and I take that $30. You'll get pocket 9's and you'll get called by another short stack with pocket 7's."
I tell him:
"That's funny. All I can think this morning is that I'll have pocket 7's in the first couple of hands, shove, and will get run down with a cheap Ace."
Back at the room, I shower and get my head right. After having the whole weekend to think about it, it's time to just go do it...meet my fate or have that miracle day. Aggressive music the whole way. That's the only way I'll survive...being ultra aggressive right out of the gate.
I pull up to the Rio and park for a few minutes again. This is it. I don't care about the walk up the red carpet today. There is an unmistakable charge in the air today, much as I'm trying to ignore it. Today is the first day that everyone that's left is playing at the same time, which is pretty crazy. Someone in this room will be the next Main Event Champion. I see Richard (the Brit from Day 2) on my way in and he and I wish each other luck.
Once in the UB room, I hang out and talk to a few people. Inevitably, chip counts are exchanged. I get the "death sentence" look every time I give my lowly 20k. Kind of a half-assed goodbye.
Table 297, Seat 2. I get to my seat and find a pretty unexpected sight...no one really has a completely unreasonable stack. MW from Copenhagen, in seat 9 had about 170k. The 5 seat, a friendly older gentleman had around 70k. The 3 seat to my left was an aggressive player from Poland sitting on about 50k...everyone else was between 20k-40k. This could turn out great if they're tentative with their stacks, or terrible if they don't care anymore. I'm going after it either way. Blinds are at 500/1000 100a for an hour.
The button is announced, seat 9. I mouthed it as it was announced. I knew I'd be the BB. Trash, fold. SB..trash, fold to a raise. Five hands in, and I'm down 2k, this is not what I wanted at all. I'm 3k away from being in "must shove" mode. I take a look down at J7 with a 3bet in front...I could probably shove here to try to pick up the blinds and antes and the extra 3k. If I'm called, I'm not that disappointed, because I'm probably live. I fold. A short stack in the 6 calls. 8910 flops. I may have just lost the tourney with that fold. Both had decent enough pairs, I would've tripled up. An older woman moves into the empty seat holding about 60k.
A couple hands later, a (Russian?) girl next to me in the 1 seat shoves her remaining 40k into the big stack following a raise. She takes a coffee from the server as seat 3 instacalls. She stands and tables KK and sees his AA. AA holds up and the rich get richer. The girl throws her coffee onto her chair, just soaking the seat cushion. She starts cussing in 2 languages, grabs her coffee and slams it on the table, spraying me and the dealer. I just smile as I think it's kind of funny. The dealer's upset, and the girl's still cussing. Just then, seat 5 tries to console her.
"Honey listen, worse things can happen. In the 2005 Main Event, I had 250k in chips and..."
"I don't care about your f***ing life story old man! I lost! You're happy...so there, I lost!" She screams as she storms off, giving the man the look of death the whole way out.
Meanwhile, all I wanted to hear was, "Seat open! Table 297!!" I actually did yell it out because our dealer was rather shy and I needed that seat filled (I asked her if I could as not to be rude). The seat was eventually filled by a nice gentleman from Kentucky, the eventual "Bubble Boy".
The next hand I look down at AK off and shove. Folds around and I'm back up to 20k. An orbit later, I face a raise from the big stack to 2400, which had been pretty standard to that point. I look down at 77 and shove my remaining 19k, big stack quickly folds. The next time the button hits me, I'm on AQ with no callers and shove to take down the blinds. I think someone will call me soon, I can tell the table is getting leary. Another orbit or two later, I'm facing another raise from the big stack and shove with AK. He looks me up for a minute, but decides to lay it down. I'm still sitting around 28k.
At this point, seat 7 (probably one of the top 10 best mtt players right now) starts on a journey, the likes of which I'd never seen. He simply asks one of the massage therapists for a rub down. We've got about an hour and a half to the break.
An hour has now passed and the blinds are going up to 600/1200 200a. I'm still around 27k after another blind steal. Under the gun, I look down at AJ off and shove. Folds around to the button, older woman seat 6. She has reading glasses on and a ball cap. She looks me up and down 10 times over. She counts her chips (about 60k), she checks her cards. She waits. I know she's calling. My life tilt hand, AJ, is about to do me in on the grandest stage of them all...I'm an idiot.
"I think I have to. I call". Exactly what I expected.
She tables AQ off and is stoked to see she's ahead. I'm a little disappointed to be called by that hand with her stack, but not surprised. I've shoved a bunch of times and knew I'd be called soon enough. Q49 flops. I stand and start getting my things, as is customary at this event. 10 turn. Seat 5 gives me a look, eyebrows raised. I just shake my head, "no" to him. K snaps the river. I don't say a word, my eyes just wide open. Seat 5 tells me he knew it. I tell him I didn't. The lady in seat 6 is now fuming. I've been pierced by the eyes of some very scary/respected women in my life, but I won't soon forget this one.
My hands are actually shaking while I gather my haul. My hands haven't shook at a poker table since my first live casino tourney at the old Sands in AC. It could happen...Miracle day. There was that hand I needed to run deep. There was that hand that could give me a little breathing room today. Not much, but some.
In a familiar scene from Day 1, Johnny Chan is a few tables behind me again and is again running over everyone. I can see JS a couple tables away also. He had a big Day 2 and is doing well again today. I think he's over 250k.
A few hands later I'm in the cutoff + 1 with AJ off and decide to flat a 3bet from the big stack and try to beat him postflop. Steaming Lady seat 6 repops it to 10k and shoots those eyes at me again. She doesn't even care about the big stack. He smiles at me and folds. I lay it down also and she just keeps staring at me. I want to tell her so bad that I layed down AJ after just cracking her with it, but I think better of it.
I make a couple more light calls/raises and have to fold to a raise pre or bet postflop in a very active first part of the 600/1200 level and drop back down to 50, then 46k. The Polish guy in seat 3 is very aggressive and pushing his stack around a lot...he's the one catching me light most of the time. Seat 5 notices what he's doing and I can tell he's biding his time before he attacks. I get chopped down to around 40k before I decide to do something about it. Just before the break, the big stack seat 9 3bets in early position. I make quickly make it 10k with Q10 suited. Folds around to him and he mucks. I make another steal from the button in the last hand of the level to get up to 55k.
I send out a flurry of texts as I head to the UB room. A few looks of shock as people started to trickle back in. When told I had nearly tripled up through the first couple of hours, people would actually talk to me without that sound of dispair. The UB room proved to be handy again as today was the first day I didn't bring a sweatshirt because aside from that couple of minutes in the Pavillion, it's been rather warm, not freezing like everyone says. I told one of the reps that it was freezing where I was and he brought out a selection of hoodies for me to choose from.
A text from my poker partner back home "Hank Azaria has 105k...you better double up. This is embarrassing."
Back to the action and we're still at 600/1200 200a for the next hour. Also back to action is massage therapist on seat 7's back. I look up this and am amazed/impressed/relaxed just watching it. What did that girl do while we were on break? Was she standing by his empty chair for 20 minutes?
Just then Norman Chad starts circling our table to take notes his coverage. On Day 1, I heard him talking s**t on the Orioles to Mike Sexton, so I decide to call him out on it as he walks past me.
"Mr. Chad. I heard you running your mouth about the Orioles the other day, and I want you to know I think it's BS" I call to him.
"Who was I talking to?" he whines.
"I was at the table next to Sexton on Day 1 when I heard what you said. Once a fan, always a fan. Don't trash them now because they're bad"
Seat 7 chimes in, "They just swept Boston, they're on a roll!"
Norman mumbles something and walks away.
I look at the chip counts every day and find the people from Maryland, the Ft. Lauderdale area, and the Atlantic City area to see if I know any of them. I didn't know many people at all, and some were people that I knew in name only. What happens next shocked even me.
"You're an O's fan. Are you from Maryland?" I ask seat 7.
"Yep" he answered.
"Is your name *****?"
"Yep" is all he said.
Of the people I didn't know from Maryland on that list, his is literally the only name I remembered and I don't know why.
Big stack seat 9 is looking at me like I just walked on water.
"What's my name?" he asks.
"Dude, I have no idea what your name is" I tell him, but he's persistent.
"Just guess. You guessed his name, guess mine" he continues. I tell him I can't even place his accent to be able to venture a guess.
"Just try it" he says.
I really think he thinks I'm going to get his name right. Seat 7 tells he'll have his name in a minute and pulls out his iphone.
"I'm going with Pierre, man. I don't even think you're French, I just have no idea" I laugh as I make my guess.
Seat 7 proceeds to tell him his name and where he's from using the internet. We all make formal introductions and laugh at the exchange. A fun moment for sure in the midst of a pressure filled day...well maybe not for seat 7, who's still being massaged.
After a couple orbits, I've only made a position raise to maintain the stack at 53k. The next hand I'm facing a raise of 4k from middle position. I look down at 89 clubs...the hand of so much discussion last night. A couple hours ago, I'm shoving here, instead I fold. He shows AJ off.
I bleed chips for another 2 or 3 orbits and am down to around 45k. I try to limp into a pot from early position with 56 hearts. It folds to the big stack in seat 9. He checks. We both check a Q49 rainbow flop. Q hits the turn, he checks, I bet about 2/3 pot and he calls. A hits the river, he checks, I bet 2/3 pot again and he folded. I'm definitely in control again, and I'm pretty sure the big stack may fear me. The chip stack is back to 57k.
Just before the blinds move up to 800/1600 200a, I'm able to lay down AJ off one more time when I flat a standard preflop raise from a short stack, then seat 3 repops. Short stack folds as do I. Seat 3 shows AA, short stack says he had AJ, don't know about that.
I start out the next level pushing around the big stack, reraising his raises when I think he's light, cbetting flops out of position. I have a ridiculous read on him right now. I get the stack back to the 60k by doing this. I realize I'm being respected by the table as well. I find that no one really wants to tangle with me, and am able to stay afloat because of it. I end up hitting the next break at 55k again, there are 1800 people left.
I get into the next level ready to maintain my selective aggression. Seat 7 is getting into the next level with more massaging.
"*****, that is seriously the most epic massage I've ever seen with clothes on" I tell him. It really is unbelievable. I don't know how this girl can even feel her hands.
The aggressive pace backfires on me right out of the gate coming out of the break when I try to double barrel with A4 clubs and get shoved upon. I try some preflop raises in position but get raised on and have to fold. It seems the good hands have dried up and the rest of the table is catching up to me in terms of preflop aggression. I'm not able to steal like I have been and the hands are just awful. I'm starting to trickle down to 40k.
Down to almost 30k, and the blinds about to go up to 1k/2k 200a the next hand, I make a preflop raise with QJ to 3500, which is pretty standard at this point. I'm called by seat 9, which is who I want to call. 9102 flops and I cbet to seat 9's call. This worries me as I'm pretty committed to this hand now. Turn is garbage and I fire out a substantial bet. Seat 9 looks me over, sees my now very short stack behind and gives me a look that lets me know he's good. Then he folds. My heart is racing as I thought my tourney was about to be on a draw, but I somehow got away with that to creep back up to about 46k.
A couple rounds pass and my stack is down to 39k. I'm in UTG+2 and look down at AA. I bump it to 5k and get flat called by the short stack. J28 flops and I bet another 5k to his instashove. I call and he tables AJ. A huge near double up to 71k!!!! We're getting close to the dinner break and I'm thinking I can definitely make it through the day.
Two hands later I'm in the BB. The aggressive Polish seat 3 has about 80k raises to 8k. It folds around to seat 9 with about 170k, who reraises to 20k. I look down at KK. I shove without hesitation. I'm 90% sure seat 3 doesn't have AA and I'm 100% sure seat 9 doesn't. Seat 3 folds, seat 9 is put to the decision. He starts writhing around and wringing his hands. He asks for a count. I'm really confident at this point, because now I know for sure my hand's good, and if he folds, I'm up to around 100k. He looks me over, but doesn't know what to do. This is exactly what I want. I've been pounding on him all day, and I'm pretty sure he's going to call because of it.
"You really look like you have aces" he says to me.
I nod my head and say, "It should."
Finally, he stands and says, "F*** it. I've got to see them if you've got them. I call"
Seat 9 tables QQ and we both stand. Nearly 160k in the pot, and a chance for that Miracle Day. The dealer spreads the flop. His hands are covering the window, and the flop from my view.
"Oh No" I hear the older gentleman in seat 6 say with real compassion.
I didn't look, I knew what happened. When I actually did see the flop, my body jerked away from it like watching a car crash. My ipod, in which only one of the earbuds was in, went flying off the table as I jerked away.
It's tough to say exactly what happens from here. I don't really remember. I know what it's like to be physically knocked out. I was a goalie in lacrosse for years, I know what it's like to be hit in the nuts as hard as you can imagine. It was a combination of both at that moment. I don't remember leaving the table or the poker room at all. ESPN's camera's could've been in my face the whole time and I wouldn't have seen them. Instant migrane.
I do remember walking into the UB room saying something along the lines of "I'm out. I just lost a 160k pot to get back in it. I had K's, he had Q's and hit his Q. Thanks for everything."
At least I'm pretty sure that's what I said. I don't at all remember leaving the Rio, driving down Flamingo for the last time, or walking into the V. The next thing I remember I'm walking into a very busy Cut bar to give Chip a UB hat I had got for him. He had just got a text from me about 20 minutes prior that said I had doubled up, so he was confused to say the least.
"Buddy, what the hell happened?" I was still in shock. I tried to explain as best I could, but I didn't want to talk about it. I still had my patches on and such, so people wanted to come listen to the story, but I had to leave. I hadn't really processed what just happened so I couldn't talk about it with strangers just yet.
The emotional swing of doubling up with aces and getting it all in 2 hands later knowing you're at least 80% and losing is tough to handle. I called my wife, who was getting updates from my partner. She was estatic at first because she thought I was calling about the double up. When I told her what happened, she broke into tears. Not because I lost, because we knew that was a big possibility, but because she wasn't there and knew how close I had gotten to achieving my ultimate goal while here, which was to cash the main.
After I got off the phone, I decided to do what I was supposed to do tonight...go to Batistas. I went there right from the V and got a table alone. I had no idea about the free unlimited wine when I went in, as I had planned on crushing a bottle anyway. I proceeded to smash a giant carafe of red and a plate of chicken parm. I know this hangover is going to hurt on the plane ride home, but I don't care.
I head back to the IP after dinner and get a few triple Captain and Gingers as dessert. I know I'm hanging out with Chip later, but I need something to do now. Not having someone to talk to after something like this really is tough. The hand keeps playing over and over in my head. I drink more.
After packing up (which in a drunken stupor was a great idea as there's no way I could've done it in the morning), I go downstairs for more drinks. While slamming another Captain, I say F' it I'm going to be a Strip person tonight. I haven't seen lingerie models be pirates at TI. I haven't even seen the volcano at Mirage go off and it's directly across the street. I load up on more alcohol and make my way up the Strip. I don't remember much of either, but I'm sure they were nice.
After cruising around, I head over to Caesars to find Michael from London and tell him what happened. By the time I get there, I've been walking the Strip for a couple hours and am hammered and sweaty. I find him as I thought I might, at the $80 nightly tourney. I tell him my beat and the table winces. He assures me there'll be worse beats...again, sage advice from a youngster. He'll be OK in this game if he keeps his head straight. We say our goodbyes and wish each other well. I run into JT from Day 1 also, who casually tells me he made it through to Day 4. I wish him luck and leave.
Chip is off as I make my way back to the IP. It's about 1am and I'm pretty much incoherent at this point. I know we went to Kaizen on Paradise for sushi at around 3am. I don't know if this was a good idea or not, but I think it was delicious. I remember an avocado train. Chip and I said our goodbyes and I assured him I'd be back in less than 4 years this time. In fact, I'll probably be back for the Fall DSE at the V.
So here I am. What I wrote weeks ago has come true. My worst fear about this trip is now a reality. I feel like I played really good poker, but didn't get the results I wanted. I understand variance. I also understand that my game needs work, especially handling my emotions. But what I also understand is that I've been playing against some of the best this game has to offer for the last couple of weeks and it's clear that I belong.
There's no way I don't play the Main again next year. The structure just suits my style too much not to. As bad as it hurts right now after taking such an awful beat on such a big stage at such a crucial point, I'd do it all again right now.
Seat 9 went on to a top 30 finish to cash for over $300k, so good for him. At least he didn't donk off my chips.
In the end, I learned a lot from this trip. About myself, my poker game, and about life in general. It has also given me a realistic goal to attain every year. At this point in my life without playing the hours online that I need to, I probably can't do this professionally. I can however, try to play my way into these couple of weeks every year and take my shots at the big time, if only for a short time.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
Sunday Celebrity Status
The phone just keeps ringing...or is that my head? Nope, it's my definitely my phone. I answer to my wife saying, "Are you watching this???!!!" I tell her I have no idea what she's talking about, I am just waking up at the crack of 1pm. "The World Cup final! There's no way you forgot about it!" I am a huge WC fan, but as I've said before, I just haven't been watching TV at all, so I did totally forget about it. It's already halftime as I fire up the huge 20" screen on my in-room TV at the IP. As much fun as it probably is downstairs/next door/in the streets, I have no desire to leave my room at this point because of another monster hangover.
Here I am, my third weekend in Vegas, and I'm breaking so many of the rules I set for myself before I left. I didn't want to drink too much...that one's long gone. I wanted to maintain a regular eating/excercise/sleep schedule...no chance. I wanted to treat every tournament the same regardless of the buy in...didn't happen. I'm now at the point where the only poker I have left to play on this trip is the Main where I'm super short...unless I try to satellite my way into the V's DSE Main Event, which is also tomorrow. This is an idea I had last night while pounding one of many Captain and Gingers. What if I try to win my way into the DSE Main, then if I bust early in the WSOP Main, I can just come right over and play the DSE Main? Chip thinks this is a great idea, but when I finally emerge from my room I decide there's no way I can do this. I don't want to take anything from my play in the WSOP Main, short or not. I still have a chance and I don't want to sell myself short. I'm going to the V this afternoon anyway so I'll check it out, but I'm not going to play.
I have to go to the V today so I can redeem my comps for the DSE events I've played. For every entry, you are allowed a $10 food comp, or you can get a t shirt (cool design), hat, or card protector (really neat design and very heavy). This is a great way to stock up on gifts for my friends back home and I never used them for food, so grab my stack of entries and head out. I take the long way in walking to the V just to get a little excercise and think. I get a text from Chip that says he's working but wants to know what I'm doing today because he's got me "all set up". I don't know what this means, but I soon find out. After loading up at the V's poker gift shop, I head over to Cut to give Chip his card protector and find out what he means. He again asks what I'm doing today, but has an undeniable smirk when asking. I tell him I'm probably going to the pool at IP for a while to search for the Last Unicorn again. Then I'm going to eat somewhere good, since this will probably be my last night to be able to do something like that. He tells me that is perfect, and that I'm ready to go...now. Chip proceeds to tell me that he made some calls earlier in the day, and that the VIP host is expecting me at Encore Beach Club if I want to go to the pool. Also the manager at Postrio, another Wolfgang Puck restaurant, is expecting me for dinner later this evening. It's getting close to 3pm, so I ask if it's too late to go to Encore. He responds, "Dude, it's never too late to look at 10's". Touche'. After thanking Chip, I feel my hangover starting to clear up and my pace quickens to an almost power walk as I make my way back to the IP to grab some pool attire.
I text the host at Encore as I pull up to the garage. Now I've seen Rehab as a television show, but I've never been to a pool of this caliber so I'm not really sure what to expect here. I know some of these places are wild, but I expected Encore to just be a bunch of trust fund baby dolls laying by the pool. When I hit the entrace and caught a glimpse of what I was about to get into, I almost cried/walked away/pitched a tent/cried again. I meet the host as he's getting b****ed at for not letting in Larry Hughes, the (former?) NBA player. As this is happening, I get walked past the line, security, and very importantly, the window where you pay the $50 cover charge. The host walks me to the bar and I can't even talk. He asks if everything is OK, and I assure him that everything is more than OK. He tells me he heard that I'm on to Day 3 of the Main, and that I should come back next week if I smash it. As he says this, a few bikini-clad "people" hear him and I'm an "instant celebrity". We talk for a while and I decide to roam and explore this unbelievable aquatic utopia. The music is thumping, the drinks are flowing, and everyone is dancing. I throw down a few $20 mojitos and start to feel the beat. I eventually get in the pool and try to act as uncreepy as one could alone at a place like this. It dawned on me that I was successful when approached by another group of bikini's that weren't cocktail servers. I hang out for here for a couple of hours, not really wanting to leave. To say that Encore Beach Club is a little bit different than the pool at the IP is like saying Marisa Miller is little bit different than Chelsea Clinton. This was definitely a good decision on Chip's part.
After changing, I head back over to the V for dinner at Postrio. I take a seat at the bar and marvel at the fake St. Mark's Square like a tourist. In a fantastic move on my part, I make the switch to ginger citrus iced tea instead of continuing the mojito train. The Heirloom tomato Caprese was superb. The Chicken Piccata was just OK. The manager makes his way to the bar and talks about the WSOP like I've won the thing already. He comps most of my meal and I leave feeling good.
I hang out with Chip for an hour or two after and discuss tomorrow. I've added up all our strategic conversations from this weekend and have come up with a plan that unfortunately, I'm ready to follow. I have 1 hour left of blinds at 500/1000 100a. This means I have 2 orbits (20 hands) to determine which is the hand I'll hang my tournament on, assuming I'm not BB first. Of course if I find myself in a spot where I can position shove to pick up the blinds and antes, I will. I think the key to tomorrow will be staying over 15k for the first hour. Once I get below 15k, I'm going to have to shove Ace or Face (or worse). That is a sickening feeling, the thought that I literally may have to just shove anything for $10,000. I hate playing poker like this in a $50 tourney, let alone one for $10k.
We discuss many, many scenerios that I may encounter and try to determine whether I'm pushing or not. The main hand that we disagree on most is 89 suited. He asks if I'd shove this hand, and I instantly say I will, without question. He thinks I should only play this hand if there is already a raise and some callers in front, I don't. If this were the middle of Day 1, and I had a bunch of chips to do something like that with, I would. But I'll take the implied odds of that hand right now. I try to explain that 20 hands is not a lot (which he knows), and if I come across a hand like that I'm going to use it. Chip just cannot believe I'd put $10k on a hand like that. I tell him I'd rather it be 89 suited than 103 off and I'm forced to shove because I only have 13 BB's left. We agree to disagree here. He doesn't think I'm going to need to make this decision anyway; that I'm going to double up in the first 10 hands. I wind up making a $30 bet with him that I won't double up in the first 10 hands. So to recap, yes, I just covered a $10,000 bet with $30...seems smart! I make my way out of the V and head "home". Around 1am, Chip calls to see if I want to go to his friends house to cookout and drink. I ask if he remembers that I'm playing the Main in 11 hours. He said he does, he just wanted another opportunity to talk me out of playing 89 suited...
Here I am, my third weekend in Vegas, and I'm breaking so many of the rules I set for myself before I left. I didn't want to drink too much...that one's long gone. I wanted to maintain a regular eating/excercise/sleep schedule...no chance. I wanted to treat every tournament the same regardless of the buy in...didn't happen. I'm now at the point where the only poker I have left to play on this trip is the Main where I'm super short...unless I try to satellite my way into the V's DSE Main Event, which is also tomorrow. This is an idea I had last night while pounding one of many Captain and Gingers. What if I try to win my way into the DSE Main, then if I bust early in the WSOP Main, I can just come right over and play the DSE Main? Chip thinks this is a great idea, but when I finally emerge from my room I decide there's no way I can do this. I don't want to take anything from my play in the WSOP Main, short or not. I still have a chance and I don't want to sell myself short. I'm going to the V this afternoon anyway so I'll check it out, but I'm not going to play.
I have to go to the V today so I can redeem my comps for the DSE events I've played. For every entry, you are allowed a $10 food comp, or you can get a t shirt (cool design), hat, or card protector (really neat design and very heavy). This is a great way to stock up on gifts for my friends back home and I never used them for food, so grab my stack of entries and head out. I take the long way in walking to the V just to get a little excercise and think. I get a text from Chip that says he's working but wants to know what I'm doing today because he's got me "all set up". I don't know what this means, but I soon find out. After loading up at the V's poker gift shop, I head over to Cut to give Chip his card protector and find out what he means. He again asks what I'm doing today, but has an undeniable smirk when asking. I tell him I'm probably going to the pool at IP for a while to search for the Last Unicorn again. Then I'm going to eat somewhere good, since this will probably be my last night to be able to do something like that. He tells me that is perfect, and that I'm ready to go...now. Chip proceeds to tell me that he made some calls earlier in the day, and that the VIP host is expecting me at Encore Beach Club if I want to go to the pool. Also the manager at Postrio, another Wolfgang Puck restaurant, is expecting me for dinner later this evening. It's getting close to 3pm, so I ask if it's too late to go to Encore. He responds, "Dude, it's never too late to look at 10's". Touche'. After thanking Chip, I feel my hangover starting to clear up and my pace quickens to an almost power walk as I make my way back to the IP to grab some pool attire.
I text the host at Encore as I pull up to the garage. Now I've seen Rehab as a television show, but I've never been to a pool of this caliber so I'm not really sure what to expect here. I know some of these places are wild, but I expected Encore to just be a bunch of trust fund baby dolls laying by the pool. When I hit the entrace and caught a glimpse of what I was about to get into, I almost cried/walked away/pitched a tent/cried again. I meet the host as he's getting b****ed at for not letting in Larry Hughes, the (former?) NBA player. As this is happening, I get walked past the line, security, and very importantly, the window where you pay the $50 cover charge. The host walks me to the bar and I can't even talk. He asks if everything is OK, and I assure him that everything is more than OK. He tells me he heard that I'm on to Day 3 of the Main, and that I should come back next week if I smash it. As he says this, a few bikini-clad "people" hear him and I'm an "instant celebrity". We talk for a while and I decide to roam and explore this unbelievable aquatic utopia. The music is thumping, the drinks are flowing, and everyone is dancing. I throw down a few $20 mojitos and start to feel the beat. I eventually get in the pool and try to act as uncreepy as one could alone at a place like this. It dawned on me that I was successful when approached by another group of bikini's that weren't cocktail servers. I hang out for here for a couple of hours, not really wanting to leave. To say that Encore Beach Club is a little bit different than the pool at the IP is like saying Marisa Miller is little bit different than Chelsea Clinton. This was definitely a good decision on Chip's part.
After changing, I head back over to the V for dinner at Postrio. I take a seat at the bar and marvel at the fake St. Mark's Square like a tourist. In a fantastic move on my part, I make the switch to ginger citrus iced tea instead of continuing the mojito train. The Heirloom tomato Caprese was superb. The Chicken Piccata was just OK. The manager makes his way to the bar and talks about the WSOP like I've won the thing already. He comps most of my meal and I leave feeling good.
I hang out with Chip for an hour or two after and discuss tomorrow. I've added up all our strategic conversations from this weekend and have come up with a plan that unfortunately, I'm ready to follow. I have 1 hour left of blinds at 500/1000 100a. This means I have 2 orbits (20 hands) to determine which is the hand I'll hang my tournament on, assuming I'm not BB first. Of course if I find myself in a spot where I can position shove to pick up the blinds and antes, I will. I think the key to tomorrow will be staying over 15k for the first hour. Once I get below 15k, I'm going to have to shove Ace or Face (or worse). That is a sickening feeling, the thought that I literally may have to just shove anything for $10,000. I hate playing poker like this in a $50 tourney, let alone one for $10k.
We discuss many, many scenerios that I may encounter and try to determine whether I'm pushing or not. The main hand that we disagree on most is 89 suited. He asks if I'd shove this hand, and I instantly say I will, without question. He thinks I should only play this hand if there is already a raise and some callers in front, I don't. If this were the middle of Day 1, and I had a bunch of chips to do something like that with, I would. But I'll take the implied odds of that hand right now. I try to explain that 20 hands is not a lot (which he knows), and if I come across a hand like that I'm going to use it. Chip just cannot believe I'd put $10k on a hand like that. I tell him I'd rather it be 89 suited than 103 off and I'm forced to shove because I only have 13 BB's left. We agree to disagree here. He doesn't think I'm going to need to make this decision anyway; that I'm going to double up in the first 10 hands. I wind up making a $30 bet with him that I won't double up in the first 10 hands. So to recap, yes, I just covered a $10,000 bet with $30...seems smart! I make my way out of the V and head "home". Around 1am, Chip calls to see if I want to go to his friends house to cookout and drink. I ask if he remembers that I'm playing the Main in 11 hours. He said he does, he just wanted another opportunity to talk me out of playing 89 suited...
Monday, August 2, 2010
Last Saturday in Vegas?
I wake up even later than normal today. The combination of booze, Dealertainers, another way too late dinner, and the "WTF happened yesterday???" have all destroyed my brain this morning/afternoon. Luckily, I called the airline in a drunken stupor last night/early morning to switch my flight so I don't have to worry about that. I do however need to talk to the car rental office since the Kia was supposed to be back 3 hours ago. I've been using an aircard for my laptop while in the room, and while it hasn't been the fastest internet connection, it has been serviceable. Today for some reason though, I couldn't get a signal on the computer or my phone...at all. I could go outside and get a signal on the phone for about a minute, but then it would cut out. I'm getting frustrated after an hour of trying different locations in the room, rebooting, and even taking the laptop outside for a while so I can get some things done. Nothing. After nearly throwing everything off the balcony (which must be a favorite past time of IP guests, because there is everything from cigarette butts, plates, phonebooks, and even underwear on the ground below from people chucking it off the balcony), I decide to just drive to the airport and renew my contract for the car. A hassle, but I don't really have anything important to do otherwise. After getting yelled at by Enterprise because the car was due back this morning and they couldn't reach me on my phone, I finally get everything cleared up (I had another issue with them in that I didn't bring the credit card I used to pay for everything initially, and you can't pay for the same rental on 2 cards, but we worked it out). I then head over to the Rio to pick up a couple new patches for Monday. I only walked through the poker pavillion for a minute, I didn't even care what was going on for Day 2B. As I walk in, I enter on the side where Feature Table #3 is (where I played yesterday) and see a huge crowd gathered around the rail. I guess everyone is there to see Allen Cunningham...I'm not impressed (long story on AC, another time, and probably not for public knowledge).
I'm walking out of the Rio when I look down at a text that reads, "I don't care how many chips you have going into Day 3. If Lou Diamond Phillips can crack the top 200 in 2009, you can definitely cash this thing." I laugh out loud and try to find some food. I've been craving Mexican the whole time I've been here and decide I'm going to search for an "off the beaten path" restuarante. I head back over to the other side of Flamingo and turn down Maryland Ave. I finally come across El Patio, which looks like a run down little strip center Mexican joint...my kind of place. The only problem is it's directly across the street from an In N Out, so if El Patio turns out to be bad, it'll really be in my face. A couple of fish tacos later, I'm relatively satisfied (well, at least I don't have to get a 2x2 on the way back).
I head to the pool for a while before playing the 7pm at the V. I saw something today that rarely happens at the IP...a 9 at the pool! This is an historic moment for the IP pool I believe. She may have even been a 10, but I was trying not to stare as I don't think I could've taken all her meat head friends that were with her, and I definitely wasn't in the mood for a beat down. I feel like I just saw the last unicorn. Truely an unexpected sight at the IP. This actually gives me a little more confidence heading into Monday...if there can be a 9 at the IP pool, I can survive Day 3!
I draw the 6 seat for the nightly V, which I'm pretty happy about. One of the many problems I have with my game is apparent tonight...I don't care if I win tonight or not, I just want to relax and have a good time. This is a terrible way to play, but it just happens sometimes. It's funny, I play so little online that entering a $100 tourney seems like a million dollars online, but live I'd enter 5 $100 tourneys in a day like they're $10 tourneys if I could. I have no idea why I do this, it makes no sense and it's something I'm working hard on correcting. Anyway, I sit down to what appears to be a pretty soft table. The guy to my right is a super nice Scottish man, and to my left, an Irishman that busted out of the Main on Day 1. We talk for a while as the Scott has AA 3x, AK 2x, QQ once, and AQ suited 2x...all in the first 2 levels! He stacks up a bit, but failed to get paid on most. I pull a couple floats to maintain my stack through the first couple of levels. I'm also able to pick up a decent pot against a very inexperienced young woman that called me down the whole way with 2nd pair, when I flopped a straight. I then pick up AK suited in early position and I 3x raise. The button, an older gentleman that I just watched call an AI with A10 off, shoves. I don't even think, I call in a second. He shows QQ, I spike a A on the flop, he backdoors a straight. I lose about half my stack. I maintain, just having a good time for the next couple of levels. After the second break, a huge stack has moved to our table. He's a young Norwegian player that seems pretty strong. I watch as he gets moved on with AK to his QQ. K spikes and he looks super dejected. His stack is still in good shape and I ask why he's so down. He says that's the 31st straight coinflip he's lost since he's been in Vegas. He's dead serious as he says this. I don't believe him, but he proceeds to tell me he's been here for a month and a half and doesn't have a cash in anything, or even close. He tells me he's a pretty accomplished online player, but has lost 15k in small tournaments while here. At this time, I'm getting a little short on chips as the blinds keep rising. I shove 77, the Norwegian calls with QQ again. I hit a 7 on the turn and I thought he would cry. I seriously felt horrible about what just happened. I talk with him a little more during another break, and he has really been taking some awful beats. About 45 minutes later, he's put to the test again when shoved into, this time he's calling with AK suited against JJ. JJ holds up and he's put out of the tournament. "Make that 32 straight flips" is all he can say as he stands up. I console him for a minute and tell him it definitely will get better, sometimes this stuff just happens. As I see him, shoulders and head down, that glazed look in his eyes, I realize that my luck could be a lot worse. I hope it works out for him, he was a nice kid that was just on an awful run. Again approaching a short stack, I wind up calling an AI from the same guy that got me earlier. I have KQ hearts, he has 33. K78, 2 hearts flop, turn is another K, river is...3. The Norwegian's luck has rubbed off on me! Twice now I get this guy on the flop, only to be run down. Oh well, I'm not too upset about it, I had a good time and got to talk to some good people at this table. Knowing I wasn't playing on Sunday, and Monday could be my last day in Vegas, I sign up for the 1/2 game at the V.
A guy from New Jersey fills the 7, and I the 8 seat at one of the 1/2 tables. We talk for a few minutes and determine that he's doing the same thing I am...playing some poker now so he can take Sunday off and be ready for Day 3. He is short as well at around 40k going into Monday. The table seems pretty managable; there's only one young Asian with about $700 in front of him, everyone else is within 1-1.5 buyins. Almost immediately, I'm able to put some fear into the table using a read, and a good hand. UTG (who is another young Asian that is always very calculating) raises to $11, Jersey calls, I call with 1010, and BB calls. JK4 flops and it somehow checks around. The 10 hits the turn and we're off. BB opens for $15, UTG raises to $30, Jersey pops it to $80 with a quickness. BB has a sick look and everyone looks confused. After looking them over, I know I'm good, so I shove. BB tanks for a long time and folds, UTG does the same. Jersey starts cracking up and shows me 82. BB asks me like 10 times what I had, because he had AJ. I give him some possibilities then say, "Look, that guy was lying from the start(talking to UTG), and I know you saw it too (talking to Jersey). Unfortunately, I think you just got stuck in the middle of a s**t show (talking to BB)". Jersey just laughs more as now BB is half tilted and UTG looks more than a little distraught. While I did know UTG and Jersey were lying, I actually wasn't sure what BB had, I just didn't think he'd call an AI without AQ, JJ, or KJ there, and I believe he bets KJ on the flop which eliminates that hand. I then put on the headphones and look coy, hoping to get another hand now knowing I'm going to get action. I push the big stack around a few times by floating; he has no interest in playing with me at all. A new guy comes to the table and we get involved in a hand together. I'm holding 35diamonds and raise to $10 from middle position, new guy calls from the SB. A106 with 2 diamonds flops. He bets $35, and I call. The turn is an off 4, and he fires out $75. I tank and inexplicably fold. This was a major mistake, and I didn't think this hand through correctly before I folded. He actually asked for a rabbit and it was the 7 of diamonds. I was not happy with my play there, and the guy immediately leaves after that hand. Only a couple of hours into play, I'm up a hundred or so when Chip says he's getting off of work soon and wants to party. I decide to play another orbit and rack up. The last hand of the night proved fruitful when I called the tilted BB from before with a flush draw that hit on the river. This nets me another hundred and I'm out. I stand to leave and tell the guy, "10's". He asks if I had pocket 10's, or just a 10 as I walk away.
The rest of the night is dominated by consumption. After walking back to IP to realize we can't have the Fried Green Tomato Stack from Hash House one last time(I cannot express in print how unbelievably delicious this is), we turn around and walk back to the V to grab tons of comped food from Grand Lux, and another boatload of cocktails. On the way back to my room at the IP, Chip says, "16 is going to hit at roulette on the next spin. Let's give Carrie Underwood a hundred and play it". I tell him he's ridiculous and start walking away...Chip's been known to love the roulette table a little more than the average degen and I don't want to get caught up in it with him. I try to get him to walk away as Carrie says there's no more bets. 16 obviously hits and he's pissed. I just cost him $700 because he was going to put $20 on it 5 times in a row. I try to make up for it in more cocktails, but I don't think it dulled the pain of his loss. A few/10 more drinks and we're done for the night. Chip makes his stumble back to his car at TI, and I pass out, still having a whole other day before I meet my fate, whatever that may be...
I'm walking out of the Rio when I look down at a text that reads, "I don't care how many chips you have going into Day 3. If Lou Diamond Phillips can crack the top 200 in 2009, you can definitely cash this thing." I laugh out loud and try to find some food. I've been craving Mexican the whole time I've been here and decide I'm going to search for an "off the beaten path" restuarante. I head back over to the other side of Flamingo and turn down Maryland Ave. I finally come across El Patio, which looks like a run down little strip center Mexican joint...my kind of place. The only problem is it's directly across the street from an In N Out, so if El Patio turns out to be bad, it'll really be in my face. A couple of fish tacos later, I'm relatively satisfied (well, at least I don't have to get a 2x2 on the way back).
I head to the pool for a while before playing the 7pm at the V. I saw something today that rarely happens at the IP...a 9 at the pool! This is an historic moment for the IP pool I believe. She may have even been a 10, but I was trying not to stare as I don't think I could've taken all her meat head friends that were with her, and I definitely wasn't in the mood for a beat down. I feel like I just saw the last unicorn. Truely an unexpected sight at the IP. This actually gives me a little more confidence heading into Monday...if there can be a 9 at the IP pool, I can survive Day 3!
I draw the 6 seat for the nightly V, which I'm pretty happy about. One of the many problems I have with my game is apparent tonight...I don't care if I win tonight or not, I just want to relax and have a good time. This is a terrible way to play, but it just happens sometimes. It's funny, I play so little online that entering a $100 tourney seems like a million dollars online, but live I'd enter 5 $100 tourneys in a day like they're $10 tourneys if I could. I have no idea why I do this, it makes no sense and it's something I'm working hard on correcting. Anyway, I sit down to what appears to be a pretty soft table. The guy to my right is a super nice Scottish man, and to my left, an Irishman that busted out of the Main on Day 1. We talk for a while as the Scott has AA 3x, AK 2x, QQ once, and AQ suited 2x...all in the first 2 levels! He stacks up a bit, but failed to get paid on most. I pull a couple floats to maintain my stack through the first couple of levels. I'm also able to pick up a decent pot against a very inexperienced young woman that called me down the whole way with 2nd pair, when I flopped a straight. I then pick up AK suited in early position and I 3x raise. The button, an older gentleman that I just watched call an AI with A10 off, shoves. I don't even think, I call in a second. He shows QQ, I spike a A on the flop, he backdoors a straight. I lose about half my stack. I maintain, just having a good time for the next couple of levels. After the second break, a huge stack has moved to our table. He's a young Norwegian player that seems pretty strong. I watch as he gets moved on with AK to his QQ. K spikes and he looks super dejected. His stack is still in good shape and I ask why he's so down. He says that's the 31st straight coinflip he's lost since he's been in Vegas. He's dead serious as he says this. I don't believe him, but he proceeds to tell me he's been here for a month and a half and doesn't have a cash in anything, or even close. He tells me he's a pretty accomplished online player, but has lost 15k in small tournaments while here. At this time, I'm getting a little short on chips as the blinds keep rising. I shove 77, the Norwegian calls with QQ again. I hit a 7 on the turn and I thought he would cry. I seriously felt horrible about what just happened. I talk with him a little more during another break, and he has really been taking some awful beats. About 45 minutes later, he's put to the test again when shoved into, this time he's calling with AK suited against JJ. JJ holds up and he's put out of the tournament. "Make that 32 straight flips" is all he can say as he stands up. I console him for a minute and tell him it definitely will get better, sometimes this stuff just happens. As I see him, shoulders and head down, that glazed look in his eyes, I realize that my luck could be a lot worse. I hope it works out for him, he was a nice kid that was just on an awful run. Again approaching a short stack, I wind up calling an AI from the same guy that got me earlier. I have KQ hearts, he has 33. K78, 2 hearts flop, turn is another K, river is...3. The Norwegian's luck has rubbed off on me! Twice now I get this guy on the flop, only to be run down. Oh well, I'm not too upset about it, I had a good time and got to talk to some good people at this table. Knowing I wasn't playing on Sunday, and Monday could be my last day in Vegas, I sign up for the 1/2 game at the V.
A guy from New Jersey fills the 7, and I the 8 seat at one of the 1/2 tables. We talk for a few minutes and determine that he's doing the same thing I am...playing some poker now so he can take Sunday off and be ready for Day 3. He is short as well at around 40k going into Monday. The table seems pretty managable; there's only one young Asian with about $700 in front of him, everyone else is within 1-1.5 buyins. Almost immediately, I'm able to put some fear into the table using a read, and a good hand. UTG (who is another young Asian that is always very calculating) raises to $11, Jersey calls, I call with 1010, and BB calls. JK4 flops and it somehow checks around. The 10 hits the turn and we're off. BB opens for $15, UTG raises to $30, Jersey pops it to $80 with a quickness. BB has a sick look and everyone looks confused. After looking them over, I know I'm good, so I shove. BB tanks for a long time and folds, UTG does the same. Jersey starts cracking up and shows me 82. BB asks me like 10 times what I had, because he had AJ. I give him some possibilities then say, "Look, that guy was lying from the start(talking to UTG), and I know you saw it too (talking to Jersey). Unfortunately, I think you just got stuck in the middle of a s**t show (talking to BB)". Jersey just laughs more as now BB is half tilted and UTG looks more than a little distraught. While I did know UTG and Jersey were lying, I actually wasn't sure what BB had, I just didn't think he'd call an AI without AQ, JJ, or KJ there, and I believe he bets KJ on the flop which eliminates that hand. I then put on the headphones and look coy, hoping to get another hand now knowing I'm going to get action. I push the big stack around a few times by floating; he has no interest in playing with me at all. A new guy comes to the table and we get involved in a hand together. I'm holding 35diamonds and raise to $10 from middle position, new guy calls from the SB. A106 with 2 diamonds flops. He bets $35, and I call. The turn is an off 4, and he fires out $75. I tank and inexplicably fold. This was a major mistake, and I didn't think this hand through correctly before I folded. He actually asked for a rabbit and it was the 7 of diamonds. I was not happy with my play there, and the guy immediately leaves after that hand. Only a couple of hours into play, I'm up a hundred or so when Chip says he's getting off of work soon and wants to party. I decide to play another orbit and rack up. The last hand of the night proved fruitful when I called the tilted BB from before with a flush draw that hit on the river. This nets me another hundred and I'm out. I stand to leave and tell the guy, "10's". He asks if I had pocket 10's, or just a 10 as I walk away.
The rest of the night is dominated by consumption. After walking back to IP to realize we can't have the Fried Green Tomato Stack from Hash House one last time(I cannot express in print how unbelievably delicious this is), we turn around and walk back to the V to grab tons of comped food from Grand Lux, and another boatload of cocktails. On the way back to my room at the IP, Chip says, "16 is going to hit at roulette on the next spin. Let's give Carrie Underwood a hundred and play it". I tell him he's ridiculous and start walking away...Chip's been known to love the roulette table a little more than the average degen and I don't want to get caught up in it with him. I try to get him to walk away as Carrie says there's no more bets. 16 obviously hits and he's pissed. I just cost him $700 because he was going to put $20 on it 5 times in a row. I try to make up for it in more cocktails, but I don't think it dulled the pain of his loss. A few/10 more drinks and we're done for the night. Chip makes his stumble back to his car at TI, and I pass out, still having a whole other day before I meet my fate, whatever that may be...
Thursday, July 22, 2010
WSOP Main Event Day 2A
I slept relatively well last night, only to wake up to the constant text message tones again. This time everyone waited until 7am LV time, so I was happy about that. I do appreciate the support everyone has shown, I just get pissy in the morning. I try to stick to the same routine that I have been...breakfast, hot tub, get dressed to music and generally get myself mentally prepared. I'm not nervous this morning, but I am very excited. I know I've put myself in a position that if I'm able to double up today, I'll be in a great spot.
Pulling in to the Rio, the same song comes on as Day 1 and it's a reminder to not be nervous. I have every idea what I'm doing here, I just need to play my game and move forward. I've had some luck, good and bad, but I'm feeling as confident as I ever have. The players I've faced and the spots I've been in and gotten out of have me very tuned in to the game. Being only a part time player, and not playing a ton online, I usually don't get to this level of play. Sometimes I'm on, sometimes I'm off, but playing consistantly like this has made my game infinitely better and I feel like I can beat anyone. My reading ability is always strong, but I feel like I can almost see my opponents hands at this point. I feel great about today.
Walking up the red carpet on Day 2 is an even better feeling than Day 1. I'm excited, but starting to get really focused. I ignore everything going on around me on the way in and try to make a B line for the UB pro room. On my way to the room though, I physically bump into Scotty Nguyen. Not enamored by his celebrity, I take this moment to apologize for almost knocking him over, but then to ask if he really gave "Shooter" (the guy from my 1st DSE) his nickname. I tell Scotty the story "Shooter" told me, but he has no recollection of it (he looked like he was really thinking hard). I tell him not to worry about it, I was just wondering. Could be that he was drunk and doesn't remember (the story is that Scotty hated "Shooter" until he started buying rounds of shooters at the table for the two of them), or that "Shooter" is a BS'er...either way I don't really care. I work my way through the maze of spectators and players to the pro room. I'm able to sit down and collect my thoughts without a bunch of craziness around me, which is a huge help. I grab a water and head out to find my table with 10 minutes to go until we start.
I find my table (318) and talk to the dealer. His name was Walter and I remember him because on Day 1 when they did the national anthem, he was at the table next to me absolutely belting it out. I asked him if he would do it again today and that I was stoked to be at his table. I look down and someone is in my seat...Walter tells me they had to switch 316 and 318. I have a hard time finding 316 until someone points to the table on the media stage. I'm apparently at the 3rd feature table. I ask a couple more people and they confirm that yes, I am seated there. The 3rd feature table is in the corner of the Amazon Room opposite the "real" feature tables. It is on a small stage, with the press rows built around it. There are no hole cameras, but there is an overhead camera so everyone can see the community cards. It's kind of a weird place to be, as you're away from the cluster f that is the rest of the room, it almost makes for a home game feel...like you're the only table there. Once seated, I spot two pros, Jonathan Aguiar and Craig Gray. There is supposed to be a third, "Miami" John Cernuto, but he is apparently sick and had to go home. He will just be blinded out throughout the day...a very strange situation that generates some buzz throughout the day. I take some flack from JA for wearing UB stuff. This is because all around the room are gigantic posters of the past winners of the Main Event, and hanging over me is the one of Russ Hamilton, with a black tarp over his picture. The situation sucks a little and I laugh it off, because again, not really being an online player I don't care about the UB situation (if you don't know what any of this is about, you can look it up). I'm really hoping the cameras come to the table so I can get paid and freeroll this thing!
Play gets under way and all the BS is gone. JA is the table chip leader with 78k, I have 60k and am in second; everyone else is pretty close to 40k, with 2 guys around 20k. With no one having a huge stack, I immediately decide I'm going to take advantage and continue to play more aggressively than I normally would, trying to stay out of JA and CG's way if possible. We'll start today at the 200/400 level for another hour. Almost immediately I get involved with AK off from late position, facing a raise to 1k with 4 callers in front. I decide to play sneaky and just flat, another 2 callers behind. A39 flops and the original raiser bets another 1k, a weak bet here. Folds to me, where I make it 7k, everyone folds. I'm quickly pushing the 70k mark for the first time. I don't have an opportunity to play anything memorable until the first break, which is only an hour after we start.
During the first break, I ask UB about the bonus for the 3rd feature table, only to find out there isn't one. I then ask if there's a bonus for wearing their patch while the posterboy for cheating is hanging directly over my shoulder (there isn't). I sit down and reflect for a moment, trying to decide where to go from here and thinking about the play of those at my table. While I'm doing this, Annie Duke says her shoulders are killing her, and Tiffany Michelle winds up giving her a massage right in front of me. I'm not a huge fan of either, but I didn't mind this at all. When Tiffany finished up, I told her I was next. She said, "Ha! You can't afford me, but I do like your shirt". I then tell her she may not be able to afford ME, and we make our way back to our tables.
We're heading to the next level of play, and this is where things start to go terribly wrong. Continuing with my aggressive play, I open raise a number of hands pretty light in comparison to my usual range. Right out of the gate I find myself leading with A10 off, K9 off, J10 off, only to be raised and re raised in each instance. Frustrated, I 3x raise a 3bet lead from the short stack with K9suited, only to be shoved upon. I fold again and am quickly back down to 60k. This will be the last time I see that number again today. In the next hour, I open with A10 off 5 more times, to be raised and reraised by tight or solid player EVERY time. I'm a big non believer in A10 off in general, and I'm certainly not calling a re re raised pot without it being suited. I would've lost every single pot. I look at KQ in position with another raise/reraise in front and fold. I've become very passive in a hurry. I'm comfortable laying these hands down, as I don't really believe I'm being pushed around, just running into better hands. I still start feeling less confident about how the day is shaping up and need to do something about it. I'm down to around 50k by the time the next break hits and I feel terrible. All the momentum I had coming into today is gone. I'm going to have to play a hand to completion soon, or I'm going to look weaker than I already do.
Out of the next break, I get my nemesis hand for the day, K9 suited, and raise under the gun to get 2 callers, the button and BB. K106 flops and I lead out for about 1/2 the pot and get the BB to come along. Turn is a 7 and the BB immediately fires out a huge bet. He's a tight player and his jugular vein is almost hitting me in the face it's beating so hard, so I lay it down...under 40k now. A few hands later in late position, I raise with AQ off. AK9 flops and I check/call. The turn is another K, and I lead out with a substantial bet to his call. River is a blank, and I don't think he has a K here, so I bet and he calls with KJ. I'm now down to about 30k and couldn't be sinking faster. I still have over 50BB at this point, so I'm by no means in shove/fold mode, but my range and aggressiveness has closed up significantly.
A bit of hoopla happens when one of the floormen comes over and tell us our entire table is to be moved to another table. There is a ton of confusion over this as 1.) Being a feature table, we're not supposed to be moved, and 2.) We are about to be moved to a break table and as a feature table, we're not to be broken. JA leads the table in a livid rant to the floorman, who is apologetic, but offers no answers. JA demands that Jack Effel come to our table and explain why we're going to be put into a situation that we were never supposed to be put in. Needless to say, this never happens. A very tall British pro named Richard (very familiar, but can't place his last name) had just been moved to our table and was seated next to me and was cordial about everything. He was short as well, but didn't seem too stressed about it. We're eventually moved to a table in the Pavillion, where it is about 40 degrees colder and somehow windy. Another 40 minutes or so at this table and we're broken. So we had a break, then took 10 minutes to bag our chips and walk to a new table, then had to bag our chips and walk to another table. This is common in an event as big as the ME, but it sucked when you don't think you'll be moved all day...and you're short stacked. Word around the campfire at the time was that ESPN wanted to move someone with more "status" to our table, so we got bumped. I never found out who that player was, and don't really care, it was just a weird situation. It turns out that this was not the worst move in the world for me as I was moved to a relatively soft table, and two seats to my left was Lacey Jones...not too shabby. I'm only at this table for a couple of minutes as the dinner break hits. I'm at 30,100...exactly half of what I started the day with and more than a little dejected heading to dinner.
I head outside to make some calls and try to figure out what the hell just happened. I learn that the chip average is somewhere around 75k, so I'm still not going to shove anything, but I don't want to go into Day 3 this short...something has to be done, or I'm done. I go to the UB room to enjoy some dinner and just chill out. There are a couple of friendly people in there and we talk. I then have to endure Billy Kopp's arrogant rants for a few minutes before he takes off somewhere. With about a half hour Tiffany Michelle comes back to the room and hangs out; there are only about 10 of us in the room at this point. I point to my shoulders and tell her I'm definitely ready for that massage, and she laughs again. She then says, "I'm not going to massage someone when I don't even know their name! I'm Tiffany". I tell her I know, and formally introduce myself. We laugh, and trade stories of short stack poker. She had had a rollercoaster day, where I had just gone from the top of the hill to the bottom. She hangs for a few more minutes before leaving with her hot friend. With only 9 players in the room, someone from UB decides to give away 2 ipods in a raffle. We each got a ticket and they drew out of a hat. In typical fashion for the day, I didn't win one. This gives me an even worse feeling headed to the final hours of Day 2.
Coming out of the dinner break, the blinds are 400/800 100a for an hour, then we'll play 500/1000 100a for an hour to close out the day. Again, very strange the way all these breaks are timed. I made this comment a few times, and I'll say it here. If you can't grind for 16 hours a day, you shouldn't be playing the Main Event. Why we need a 20 minute break, play for an hour, 90 minute dinner break, then play for 2 hours and go home is beyond me...why not finish the level? Either way, we're back to the action. I immediately pick up 99 and raise to 5k, whereupon I'm immediately put all in. I tank for a while, the guy had been playing pretty solid in the short time I'd been at this table, and I fold face up. I didn't get a read on him after I folded, and the hand lingered for a minute in my brain. I know conventional wisdom says to shove there, but I didn't like it...I haven't played for almost 3 days to put my tournament life on the line with a mid pair and a bad read. I'm now down to 23k and hurting terribly. Just as I'm sulking internally, Lacey Jones loses a big hand and there must be 100 people around our table. This wakes me up a little bit and gets me out of my funk and I try to stay focused on moving forward. Just then I get a text from my playing partner that says, "I remember the event this winter in AC when you had nothing at the bubble but played your game and finished 18th." I text back, "I remember, but what do I do here? Try to hold on for Monday, or just say F*** it?" I realize what I just texted and decided right then that I will never give up, I still have over 20BB and I'll do whatever I can to continue. I pick up my favorite hand right when I hit the send button, 44. I shove to no callers. I pick up my nemesis hand in mid position, AJ off, and open shove again to no callers. Now at 500/1000 100a, I've let the stack shrink again. With about 30 minutes left in the day and a stack of about 18k, I'm facing a raise from mid position to 2400. I look down at KK, tank for show, then shove. He was sitting on about 90k, but folds. I'm now up to a still short 24k. With about 10 minutes to go, I'm in the hijack AJ off and face a raise of 2200. Mistake or not, I flat call and completely whiff the flop. Player couldn't shove fast enough and I fold. I end Day 2 at 20,200 chips and couldn't feel worse. I'm pretty sure I was supposed to be out of this thing by now with the hands I've had, but I'm not. I don't necessarily think this is a great thing. I now have to wait the whole weekend to seal my fate. Oh well, another weekend in Vegas...it could be worse. I stare at Lacey for another second after bagging my chips and head out the door. (On a side note, as we were bagging the chips, the guy that shoved on my 99 earlier said, "Man, you shouldn't be here. I had you crushed when you raised with those 9's". That made me feel a little better at least.)
I had "planned" on leaving tomorrow, so I extend my stay until Tuesday and call the airline to change my flight home for Tuesday morning. This really sucks, when I extended everything after Day 1, I was sure I'd still be here this weekend and knew I'd be doing all this again. This time, I'm not so sure. Monday morning looms over me as my D Day unless I find a way to survive. Chip is getting off of work just as I'm finishing my day and we meet up to tie one on. He drills me over and over about shoving the KK at the end of the session. I tell him with 18k, in the BB, and the stack in front of the other guy, I shove 100/100 times. He disagrees and thinks I should've bumped it to 10k to get some action. I say there's no way I'd put myself in a position to see an A on the flop and be stuck. We nearly fist fight over this argument, but it's all in fun (not so much for me). We hang/drink for a while and he heads out.
I don't know what I'll do tomorrow other than try to not sulk and enjoy what will probably be my last weekend in Vegas...
Pulling in to the Rio, the same song comes on as Day 1 and it's a reminder to not be nervous. I have every idea what I'm doing here, I just need to play my game and move forward. I've had some luck, good and bad, but I'm feeling as confident as I ever have. The players I've faced and the spots I've been in and gotten out of have me very tuned in to the game. Being only a part time player, and not playing a ton online, I usually don't get to this level of play. Sometimes I'm on, sometimes I'm off, but playing consistantly like this has made my game infinitely better and I feel like I can beat anyone. My reading ability is always strong, but I feel like I can almost see my opponents hands at this point. I feel great about today.
Walking up the red carpet on Day 2 is an even better feeling than Day 1. I'm excited, but starting to get really focused. I ignore everything going on around me on the way in and try to make a B line for the UB pro room. On my way to the room though, I physically bump into Scotty Nguyen. Not enamored by his celebrity, I take this moment to apologize for almost knocking him over, but then to ask if he really gave "Shooter" (the guy from my 1st DSE) his nickname. I tell Scotty the story "Shooter" told me, but he has no recollection of it (he looked like he was really thinking hard). I tell him not to worry about it, I was just wondering. Could be that he was drunk and doesn't remember (the story is that Scotty hated "Shooter" until he started buying rounds of shooters at the table for the two of them), or that "Shooter" is a BS'er...either way I don't really care. I work my way through the maze of spectators and players to the pro room. I'm able to sit down and collect my thoughts without a bunch of craziness around me, which is a huge help. I grab a water and head out to find my table with 10 minutes to go until we start.
I find my table (318) and talk to the dealer. His name was Walter and I remember him because on Day 1 when they did the national anthem, he was at the table next to me absolutely belting it out. I asked him if he would do it again today and that I was stoked to be at his table. I look down and someone is in my seat...Walter tells me they had to switch 316 and 318. I have a hard time finding 316 until someone points to the table on the media stage. I'm apparently at the 3rd feature table. I ask a couple more people and they confirm that yes, I am seated there. The 3rd feature table is in the corner of the Amazon Room opposite the "real" feature tables. It is on a small stage, with the press rows built around it. There are no hole cameras, but there is an overhead camera so everyone can see the community cards. It's kind of a weird place to be, as you're away from the cluster f that is the rest of the room, it almost makes for a home game feel...like you're the only table there. Once seated, I spot two pros, Jonathan Aguiar and Craig Gray. There is supposed to be a third, "Miami" John Cernuto, but he is apparently sick and had to go home. He will just be blinded out throughout the day...a very strange situation that generates some buzz throughout the day. I take some flack from JA for wearing UB stuff. This is because all around the room are gigantic posters of the past winners of the Main Event, and hanging over me is the one of Russ Hamilton, with a black tarp over his picture. The situation sucks a little and I laugh it off, because again, not really being an online player I don't care about the UB situation (if you don't know what any of this is about, you can look it up). I'm really hoping the cameras come to the table so I can get paid and freeroll this thing!
Play gets under way and all the BS is gone. JA is the table chip leader with 78k, I have 60k and am in second; everyone else is pretty close to 40k, with 2 guys around 20k. With no one having a huge stack, I immediately decide I'm going to take advantage and continue to play more aggressively than I normally would, trying to stay out of JA and CG's way if possible. We'll start today at the 200/400 level for another hour. Almost immediately I get involved with AK off from late position, facing a raise to 1k with 4 callers in front. I decide to play sneaky and just flat, another 2 callers behind. A39 flops and the original raiser bets another 1k, a weak bet here. Folds to me, where I make it 7k, everyone folds. I'm quickly pushing the 70k mark for the first time. I don't have an opportunity to play anything memorable until the first break, which is only an hour after we start.
During the first break, I ask UB about the bonus for the 3rd feature table, only to find out there isn't one. I then ask if there's a bonus for wearing their patch while the posterboy for cheating is hanging directly over my shoulder (there isn't). I sit down and reflect for a moment, trying to decide where to go from here and thinking about the play of those at my table. While I'm doing this, Annie Duke says her shoulders are killing her, and Tiffany Michelle winds up giving her a massage right in front of me. I'm not a huge fan of either, but I didn't mind this at all. When Tiffany finished up, I told her I was next. She said, "Ha! You can't afford me, but I do like your shirt". I then tell her she may not be able to afford ME, and we make our way back to our tables.
We're heading to the next level of play, and this is where things start to go terribly wrong. Continuing with my aggressive play, I open raise a number of hands pretty light in comparison to my usual range. Right out of the gate I find myself leading with A10 off, K9 off, J10 off, only to be raised and re raised in each instance. Frustrated, I 3x raise a 3bet lead from the short stack with K9suited, only to be shoved upon. I fold again and am quickly back down to 60k. This will be the last time I see that number again today. In the next hour, I open with A10 off 5 more times, to be raised and reraised by tight or solid player EVERY time. I'm a big non believer in A10 off in general, and I'm certainly not calling a re re raised pot without it being suited. I would've lost every single pot. I look at KQ in position with another raise/reraise in front and fold. I've become very passive in a hurry. I'm comfortable laying these hands down, as I don't really believe I'm being pushed around, just running into better hands. I still start feeling less confident about how the day is shaping up and need to do something about it. I'm down to around 50k by the time the next break hits and I feel terrible. All the momentum I had coming into today is gone. I'm going to have to play a hand to completion soon, or I'm going to look weaker than I already do.
Out of the next break, I get my nemesis hand for the day, K9 suited, and raise under the gun to get 2 callers, the button and BB. K106 flops and I lead out for about 1/2 the pot and get the BB to come along. Turn is a 7 and the BB immediately fires out a huge bet. He's a tight player and his jugular vein is almost hitting me in the face it's beating so hard, so I lay it down...under 40k now. A few hands later in late position, I raise with AQ off. AK9 flops and I check/call. The turn is another K, and I lead out with a substantial bet to his call. River is a blank, and I don't think he has a K here, so I bet and he calls with KJ. I'm now down to about 30k and couldn't be sinking faster. I still have over 50BB at this point, so I'm by no means in shove/fold mode, but my range and aggressiveness has closed up significantly.
A bit of hoopla happens when one of the floormen comes over and tell us our entire table is to be moved to another table. There is a ton of confusion over this as 1.) Being a feature table, we're not supposed to be moved, and 2.) We are about to be moved to a break table and as a feature table, we're not to be broken. JA leads the table in a livid rant to the floorman, who is apologetic, but offers no answers. JA demands that Jack Effel come to our table and explain why we're going to be put into a situation that we were never supposed to be put in. Needless to say, this never happens. A very tall British pro named Richard (very familiar, but can't place his last name) had just been moved to our table and was seated next to me and was cordial about everything. He was short as well, but didn't seem too stressed about it. We're eventually moved to a table in the Pavillion, where it is about 40 degrees colder and somehow windy. Another 40 minutes or so at this table and we're broken. So we had a break, then took 10 minutes to bag our chips and walk to a new table, then had to bag our chips and walk to another table. This is common in an event as big as the ME, but it sucked when you don't think you'll be moved all day...and you're short stacked. Word around the campfire at the time was that ESPN wanted to move someone with more "status" to our table, so we got bumped. I never found out who that player was, and don't really care, it was just a weird situation. It turns out that this was not the worst move in the world for me as I was moved to a relatively soft table, and two seats to my left was Lacey Jones...not too shabby. I'm only at this table for a couple of minutes as the dinner break hits. I'm at 30,100...exactly half of what I started the day with and more than a little dejected heading to dinner.
I head outside to make some calls and try to figure out what the hell just happened. I learn that the chip average is somewhere around 75k, so I'm still not going to shove anything, but I don't want to go into Day 3 this short...something has to be done, or I'm done. I go to the UB room to enjoy some dinner and just chill out. There are a couple of friendly people in there and we talk. I then have to endure Billy Kopp's arrogant rants for a few minutes before he takes off somewhere. With about a half hour Tiffany Michelle comes back to the room and hangs out; there are only about 10 of us in the room at this point. I point to my shoulders and tell her I'm definitely ready for that massage, and she laughs again. She then says, "I'm not going to massage someone when I don't even know their name! I'm Tiffany". I tell her I know, and formally introduce myself. We laugh, and trade stories of short stack poker. She had had a rollercoaster day, where I had just gone from the top of the hill to the bottom. She hangs for a few more minutes before leaving with her hot friend. With only 9 players in the room, someone from UB decides to give away 2 ipods in a raffle. We each got a ticket and they drew out of a hat. In typical fashion for the day, I didn't win one. This gives me an even worse feeling headed to the final hours of Day 2.
Coming out of the dinner break, the blinds are 400/800 100a for an hour, then we'll play 500/1000 100a for an hour to close out the day. Again, very strange the way all these breaks are timed. I made this comment a few times, and I'll say it here. If you can't grind for 16 hours a day, you shouldn't be playing the Main Event. Why we need a 20 minute break, play for an hour, 90 minute dinner break, then play for 2 hours and go home is beyond me...why not finish the level? Either way, we're back to the action. I immediately pick up 99 and raise to 5k, whereupon I'm immediately put all in. I tank for a while, the guy had been playing pretty solid in the short time I'd been at this table, and I fold face up. I didn't get a read on him after I folded, and the hand lingered for a minute in my brain. I know conventional wisdom says to shove there, but I didn't like it...I haven't played for almost 3 days to put my tournament life on the line with a mid pair and a bad read. I'm now down to 23k and hurting terribly. Just as I'm sulking internally, Lacey Jones loses a big hand and there must be 100 people around our table. This wakes me up a little bit and gets me out of my funk and I try to stay focused on moving forward. Just then I get a text from my playing partner that says, "I remember the event this winter in AC when you had nothing at the bubble but played your game and finished 18th." I text back, "I remember, but what do I do here? Try to hold on for Monday, or just say F*** it?" I realize what I just texted and decided right then that I will never give up, I still have over 20BB and I'll do whatever I can to continue. I pick up my favorite hand right when I hit the send button, 44. I shove to no callers. I pick up my nemesis hand in mid position, AJ off, and open shove again to no callers. Now at 500/1000 100a, I've let the stack shrink again. With about 30 minutes left in the day and a stack of about 18k, I'm facing a raise from mid position to 2400. I look down at KK, tank for show, then shove. He was sitting on about 90k, but folds. I'm now up to a still short 24k. With about 10 minutes to go, I'm in the hijack AJ off and face a raise of 2200. Mistake or not, I flat call and completely whiff the flop. Player couldn't shove fast enough and I fold. I end Day 2 at 20,200 chips and couldn't feel worse. I'm pretty sure I was supposed to be out of this thing by now with the hands I've had, but I'm not. I don't necessarily think this is a great thing. I now have to wait the whole weekend to seal my fate. Oh well, another weekend in Vegas...it could be worse. I stare at Lacey for another second after bagging my chips and head out the door. (On a side note, as we were bagging the chips, the guy that shoved on my 99 earlier said, "Man, you shouldn't be here. I had you crushed when you raised with those 9's". That made me feel a little better at least.)
I had "planned" on leaving tomorrow, so I extend my stay until Tuesday and call the airline to change my flight home for Tuesday morning. This really sucks, when I extended everything after Day 1, I was sure I'd still be here this weekend and knew I'd be doing all this again. This time, I'm not so sure. Monday morning looms over me as my D Day unless I find a way to survive. Chip is getting off of work just as I'm finishing my day and we meet up to tie one on. He drills me over and over about shoving the KK at the end of the session. I tell him with 18k, in the BB, and the stack in front of the other guy, I shove 100/100 times. He disagrees and thinks I should've bumped it to 10k to get some action. I say there's no way I'd put myself in a position to see an A on the flop and be stuck. We nearly fist fight over this argument, but it's all in fun (not so much for me). We hang/drink for a while and he heads out.
I don't know what I'll do tomorrow other than try to not sulk and enjoy what will probably be my last weekend in Vegas...
Monday, July 19, 2010
Thursday Day Off
I wake up around noon feeling like crap from the night before. The combination of draft beer, Captain Morgan, and a burger at 530am has me feeling a little less than 100%. I'm dreading walking outside in the 110 degree heat. Dry as it may be, it's hot as hell hungover. I take my time before emerging out of the dark, cold cave that is my room. I get some writing done, answer many phone/texts about yesterday, and stand in the shower for about an hour. I've been trying to get a haircut for a while, but no one seems to know of a place off the Strip, and I'm not paying $100 to get a trim. I'm pretty sure I tried to bribe the doorman of the IP to get his friend to come cut my hair last night, but I'm not sure. I don't think he's coming anyway. Someone else suggested I go to Chinatown, but I'm not in the mood to go out there. I need to make another underwear run, so I head west on Flamingo (away from the Rio) to Target. The Flamingo and Maryland Ave intersection is strip malls for as far as you can see, so I figure there has to be a reputable place to get a haircut. I drive around for about an hour before finally just walking into the mall and getting it done. While walking into the mall, I realize that I'm having some nervous ticks that I've never had before. I can't help myself from snapping with my left hand when it swings, along with a couple others. I can't figure out if this is the stress of the situation (although I feel good and confident), being alone for as much as I have, or just me somehow developing Turette's in the middle of the WSOP...that probably wouldn't be good at all. Maybe it's just that I'm drinking too much and my body isn't used to it. Either way I've got to get a handle on them, I just don't know how.
Fresh, I head over to the Rio to find the UB.com Pro Room, where I'm to meet John and the representative from UB. He's not there, so I tool around for a little while. He's still not there when I come back, but I explain that I was here to talk about signing a deal for the remainder of the WSOP and they asked what kind of chips I had. When I told them I had 60k, two guys jumped up and introduced themselves to me. They said they had to take me outside to the UB RV, because they weren't allowed to hand out any sponsorship gear on the premisis (don't know why). We had to wait a few minutes for the RV to get back, so I waited in the Pro Room. It's pretty awesome. There's a full bar set up, a food station, table full of every candy you can imagine, a private dressing room, couches, loungers, tables, chairs, pillows, and models everywhere. While waiting, Annie Duke was conducting an interview with her husband. Her kids came over to play and she unloaded on them so she could finish the interview. Mental note...do not bother Annie Duke. We finally head out to the RV, where we discuss what we're doing. If I sign with UB for the WSOP, I won't get paid unless I'm at a feature TV table, make the final table, and/or win. We discuss the money, all of which is good. A big selling point with UB was the fact that they are trying to be different in the clothes/gear they provide. I'm not a big online player, so who I advertise really doesn't mean that much to me. I just don't want to look like all the other players out there. Everyone wears the same stuff and no one is really distinguishable. I talk to one of the reps, Flavio, who tells me about UB's passion to make their clothes stand out from the rest. I explain to him that I wear a hot pink dress shirt, and like the way my hair looks, so I don't really have a desire to wear a black sweatshirt and black and red ballcap like everyone else. He agrees and shows me all the stuff they're giving me. They give me an awesome laptop bag and stuff it with shirts and hats and such. They show me the shirts and they're way different than the rest of the poker company gear. You really wouldn't even know it's poker wear unless you're looking for the logo. Happy with what goes down, I sign the contract and tell them I'll see them tomorrow. Now signed, I also have unlimited access to the Pro Room while I'm in the tournament, which will prove to be a gigantic perk. Happy, I leave the Rio to figure out the rest of my off day.
I decide to sweat out a little more alcohol at the pool for a couple hours, then finish up the day with dinner at Nora's with Chip. He tells me they are a great, old school italian restaurant. They turn out to have good food, but they didn't give us what we ordered, so we left a little disappointed. We came to the conclusion that we'd eat at Batista's Hole in the Wall if I make it past Monday (Day 3). It looks like the kind of spot I love...an old, dark Italian restaurant with undoubtedly huge portions and delicious comfort food.
Chip and I go over some strategy for Day 2 and say our goodbyes. I decide to try to catch up on some writing/work and plan out the next day. I iron a new pink dress shirt that hopefully will bring as much luck as the other has. It's going to be tough to sleep tonight...
Fresh, I head over to the Rio to find the UB.com Pro Room, where I'm to meet John and the representative from UB. He's not there, so I tool around for a little while. He's still not there when I come back, but I explain that I was here to talk about signing a deal for the remainder of the WSOP and they asked what kind of chips I had. When I told them I had 60k, two guys jumped up and introduced themselves to me. They said they had to take me outside to the UB RV, because they weren't allowed to hand out any sponsorship gear on the premisis (don't know why). We had to wait a few minutes for the RV to get back, so I waited in the Pro Room. It's pretty awesome. There's a full bar set up, a food station, table full of every candy you can imagine, a private dressing room, couches, loungers, tables, chairs, pillows, and models everywhere. While waiting, Annie Duke was conducting an interview with her husband. Her kids came over to play and she unloaded on them so she could finish the interview. Mental note...do not bother Annie Duke. We finally head out to the RV, where we discuss what we're doing. If I sign with UB for the WSOP, I won't get paid unless I'm at a feature TV table, make the final table, and/or win. We discuss the money, all of which is good. A big selling point with UB was the fact that they are trying to be different in the clothes/gear they provide. I'm not a big online player, so who I advertise really doesn't mean that much to me. I just don't want to look like all the other players out there. Everyone wears the same stuff and no one is really distinguishable. I talk to one of the reps, Flavio, who tells me about UB's passion to make their clothes stand out from the rest. I explain to him that I wear a hot pink dress shirt, and like the way my hair looks, so I don't really have a desire to wear a black sweatshirt and black and red ballcap like everyone else. He agrees and shows me all the stuff they're giving me. They give me an awesome laptop bag and stuff it with shirts and hats and such. They show me the shirts and they're way different than the rest of the poker company gear. You really wouldn't even know it's poker wear unless you're looking for the logo. Happy with what goes down, I sign the contract and tell them I'll see them tomorrow. Now signed, I also have unlimited access to the Pro Room while I'm in the tournament, which will prove to be a gigantic perk. Happy, I leave the Rio to figure out the rest of my off day.
I decide to sweat out a little more alcohol at the pool for a couple hours, then finish up the day with dinner at Nora's with Chip. He tells me they are a great, old school italian restaurant. They turn out to have good food, but they didn't give us what we ordered, so we left a little disappointed. We came to the conclusion that we'd eat at Batista's Hole in the Wall if I make it past Monday (Day 3). It looks like the kind of spot I love...an old, dark Italian restaurant with undoubtedly huge portions and delicious comfort food.
Chip and I go over some strategy for Day 2 and say our goodbyes. I decide to try to catch up on some writing/work and plan out the next day. I iron a new pink dress shirt that hopefully will bring as much luck as the other has. It's going to be tough to sleep tonight...
Thursday, July 15, 2010
WSOP Main Event Day 1C
I wake up to my phone ringing at 5am. "WTF??!!" is all I can say out loud as I don't answer. 10 minutes later, a text comes through, then another. The phone rings again, then the voicemail tone. I fall back to sleep...and the phone rings again, then another text. Seriously??? I know everyone is trying to wish me well, but doing it at 5am is not the time to do it!!! I need some sleep. After a couple of 20 minute naps between rings, I decide to just say screw it and get my day started...I'm too excited to really sleep anyway. I head downstairs to get my usual gameday breakfast of a croissant and a yogurt/granola parfait from the deli. My room is on the 6th floor, and as the elevator approaches the 3rd floor, you can start to hear the singing. By the 2nd floor it's louder, until the doors open and I'm blasted by the sounds of a Charo impersonator. It's not always Charo. Some mornings it's Elvis, Tony Orlando, Beyonce', Joan Jett, Carrie Underwood, Billy Joel, or Mariah Carey. This rotation of celebrity impersonators is what I wake up to every day. It's surreal and almost inexplicable how it feels after almost 2 weeks. You hear it the first couple days, then you can tune it out for a couple days, but by day 10 it's unavoidable. On an almost every morning basis, I have to stop and consider my choice in taking this trip. The smack of "reality" that is the Dealertainers at the IP can really make a person hate this town. Every time Chip comes to visit he laughs at these performers, and really cracks up when I ask him to imagine waking up to this every day. It's like living in an alternate universe. After breakfast I iron my "lucky" hot pink dress shirt and head down to the pool to sit in the hot tub to relax before I leave. Sitting in the hot tub with a large gentleman all decked out in poker gear, we strike up a conversation. His name is John from Dallas and he tells me he's also playing the Main, and will be playing tomorrow. He won his seat through UB.com and has been to a bunch of their parties, which he tells me about. I proceed to tell him that I'm playing the Main in about an hour. We wish each other luck and I'm off. Getting ready I crank up the music and am getting really fired up for the first day of play. Barring some unforseen incident, I should make through Day 1 (I'll actually be devastated if I don't).
Driving up Flamingo again, the butterflies are at a near fervor. Today starts my hopefully long journey to becoming a World Champion, but it could also mean the end of this trip. As I'm driving, "Won't Back Down" comes on the Sirius and I turn it up. It's a reminder that as patient a player I am, I still need to play a way more aggressive game than I normally would (I actually tell myself this a few times throughout the tournament, as I'm throwing 50% of my stack into the pot Cbetting with nothing just because of my read on an opponent). Sitting in the parking lot of the Rio, I take a minute to gather my thoughts and look at some pictures my wife sent. I remember the words of my late grandfather "patience, patience" and put my game face on.
Walking into the Main, dressed for battle is pretty exciting. Let's be honest here, playing/watching poker can be one of the most boring things in the world for anyone. That's not to say I don't love it, because I do, but it's boring. As much as I love to play tournaments, I usually dread the grind that's in front of me, but when you walk up the stairs to the WSOP Pavillion, with the red carpet, media and fans everywhere, it's a whole different experience. It makes you very aware of what you're about to get into. As predicted, I didn't notice much in the halls, although it was packed with activity. I find my seat and get settled in. I have a routine I follow for just about every tournament I play. I make an FRS drink to sip throughout the day, I get my phone out (because I know I'll be texting the whole time), I get the ipod out and untangled in case I feel the need to throw it on, and I pop some gum. I look to the table in front of me, there's Mike Sexton. At the table to my right, Annie Duke. I find later that Johnny Chan is pretty close to my table just running over everyone. At my table are two well-known young pros Jason Somerville and Jonathan Tamayo. Although aware of both of their reputations, I'm afraid of neither and intend to establish dominance over all.
Settling into the table, this is the same as any other tournament. Sure, there are a ton more people than I've played against before, slightly more cameras and celebrities than normal tournaments, but once the first card flies out of the dealers hand, all of this goes away. The only thing that matters right now is paying attention and collecting chips. I love the starting stack, time levels, and the structure of the Main, so I'm excited to get underway. I've been preparing specifically for this moment for 6 months.
Almost immediately I pick AA in early position. I put in a 3x raise, to 2 callers. An A hits the flop, and I check, hoping to trap someone as there isn't a straight or flush draw out there. It checks around and another blank hits the turn. I bet just to see if I'm going to get some value, to all folds. I hope not getting paid on big hands isn't a sign of things to come, but at the same time I hate playing big hands this early in a tourney, so I'm happy with an easy scoop of the pot. Just as this happens, an ESPN cameraman nearly sprints behind my chair to film Annie Duke. His video camera drills me in the shoulderblade on the way by and it hurt like hell! Everyone at the table is laughing at me as I fake berate him. While everyone is laughing, I decide to use my newly won chips in a creative way. I raise 3x with 810 diamonds, still in early position. I get 3 callers this time, and see a 479, 79 of diamonds flop. This gives me the super draw, so I bet. I get raised by one, to which I just flat. A tidy 6 peels off the turn and I check to the raiser. He obliges my internal request to bet, to which I flat again. He definitely has me on a flush draw at this point. The river is nothing and I check again, letting him lead. He of course does, and I raise his bet, to which he folds. This immediately puts me up to around 40k, we start with 30k...a great start. The next few hands give the feeling that A. this could be my tournament, or B. I'm in big trouble. I say this because I proceed to get JJ and QQ in back to back hands. These are power hands, but ones that must be played carefully post flop. In each case, I raise preflop with 2 callers (It actually sucks that no one has seen my hands yet, so I'm going to start to get callers like this unless I prove what I'm betting/raising). In each case an A and a K hit the flop. I Cbetted both times to an above average raise from someone and I folded each time. In both instances the winner showed their hand and proved me correct in folding. I then play a hand that will tell a story for the rest of the day and earn me a bunch of chips. Having realized pretty quickly that Somerville always wants to be in charge by raising 80% of the time preflop, I decide to try to take some of his aggression away by playing back at him. With AKoff in early position, I 3x raise. He is the only caller. Total rainbow lowball flop makes me lead out with a reasonable bet, to his call. I immediately spot that he doesn't have anything and determine I'm going to bet this all the way through. Turn is another blank, produces no draw, so I lead again to his call. The river is a 6, and I throw out another sizable bet. He pines for a minute, finally making the call. He shows a 6 to pick up the pot. Having been taken down last week on almost the exact same hand in the DSE, I'm not happy about the call, but smile and say, "Mr. Somerville, that was an old man call right there." He smiles, and Jonathan Tamayo agrees with me and says he can't believe he called that (but being the really nice kid he is, apologizes to any old men around that may have heard us). I lose about 8k on this pot, and I ask myself if I've learned my lesson...I've now squandered a significant portion of two tournament stacks on the exact same scenario. I determine that Somerville will try to run all over me/everyone the rest of the day if I let down now, so I conclude that I must keep the foot on the pedal if I want to amass chips today. The rest of the table is just too weak for me to let him take all the dead money without putting up some opposition. About two hands later, I raise in late position with 65suited. I get a caller out of the BB, and the flop hits 665. The BB bets, and I flat call, hoping he hits his draw, or is sitting on an overpair. The turn is a blank, and he checks. I bet out a reasonable amount, but he immediately folds. I pick up a couple thousand from this, but maybe should've checked the turn behind and tried to let him lead the river...oh well, moving forward is moving forward in a tourney. Just then, the announcer comes over the PA to tell all spectators and fans to leave the pavillion because the players will be going on break in less than 10 minutes. A couple of hands later, I get 1010 in late position. As is the norm, JS fires out a min to 3x raise from any position. I flat call, as I don't like a reraise in this spot yet. I'm looking to spike/trap and let him use his aggression against himself. A semi perfect flop hits with an A106, two clubs. JS leads out as expected, to my call. Turn is a blank and he throws out a "I'm trying to get you off your hand" sizable bet, to which I take my time and just flat call again. The river is a club, which I'm not even remotely afraid of. JS surprisingly checks, and I immediately fire out a good bet. He pines for a while, trying to piece together what just happened. "That club doesn't scare you?" He asks. "No, but it would scare me if I were you" is my reply. This coaxes him to call the bet and I table my set. He tells me he didn't exactly see that coming. I smile and stack myself up to 44k at the first break.
Leaving the pavillion for break is nothing short of a disaster. Having not spent much time at the Rio in the weeks prior, I have no idea where anything is. There are two poker pavillions set up across the hall from eachother in seperate convention rooms, so it gets confusing when you leave your pavillion, especially since you can leave in any direction you please, and there are players/fans/media everywhere. I follow a herd to the restroom and stand in line. This is how breaks are spent, standing in line for the bathroom/food/whatever. Jesus, I'm glad I don't smoke anymore, I can't imagine having to choose between a cigarette and using the bathroom...those guys will bust out today because they undoubtedly won't go to the bathroom, they'll smoke instead. It's standing in the halls that I remember that I'm in playing in the Main Event. Goosebumps again. Exiting the bathroom and walking back to the Amazon pavillion, I notice a lot of women staring at me in a very pleasant way (eye f'ing me if you will). I think, "Damn, I know the pink shirt is hot and all, but wow!" Feeling great about myself, I turn to my left and realize Patrick Antonius is walking with me back to the pavillion. "You dick, I thought all those girls were looking at me" I say to him with a smile. He just looks at me, shrugs, and says, "What?" We both laugh and I get the hell away from him so my confidence as a man and poker player won't both be destroyed before we even start the second level of play. Heading back into the room, I hear Steve Begleigter explain how he got sent to the rail already...no back to back final tables for him. I head back to my table and the excitement subsides again as I prepare to own the next level of play.
Almost immediately I get AQoff in mid position. I raise and of course, the only caller is JS. I hit the flop with a Q57 board and lead out, JS calls behind. The turn is an A, which could be a great card for me, as I think he may have an A. I lead, he raises, I call. The river is a blank, and I lead out a good bet again. JS pines, finally saying, "If you've got it, good for you" and makes the call. I table my top two and he mucks. This hand is really where that AK hand from earlier pays off. I don't think he calls me down unless he thinks I'm on a play, and I've already proven that I'm not afraid to ride a play to the end. I'm now well over 50k in chips and riding high. The next couple of hours prove to be a back and forth battle between mostly JS and myself. He was able to double up through someone, so he always had about what I had in chips, and it gave him the ability to continue his bulldozer ways. He continued to minraise, 3bet, or call weak raises preflop and try to outplay the weaker players postflop. I'm well-versed in this strategy and watched for patterns for a bit. I have enough chips that I don't need to tangle with the other big stack unless I think I can beat him with my hand or with bets. He picks on the weak all afternoon, scooping small pot after small pot. Any time he's not involved, I do the same. I send a text to a friend back home that's been following all the action at my table, "Jason Somerville and I are on a collision course, and we both know it." Just before the dinner break, I'm at about 63k in chips, way over chip average. I get AJ suited and call a preflop raise from a very tight, mostly cash game player to my right. J54 is the flop. He checks, I bet around half the pot, really just hoping to pick it up there, but he comes over the top with a substantial raise. He looks very anxious and I decide to lay it down after tanking for a minute or two. He was a little short and was committed to the hand, so I didn't want to shove here. It may be that I just hate AJ, but I don't think I'm good. He later tells me that he really wanted a call and would've been doubling up if I did...I believe him. This doesn't damage me too much, and we're just about to head to the dinner break.
With 5 minutes before the break, I ask Main Event vet Jonathan Tamayo where I should go for dinner. I had tried to get Chip to pick me up and we'd go somewhere, but he couldn't. JT asks if I've made reservations anywhere in the Rio, and I tell him I don't even know any of the restaurants, so no I haven't. He says, "Well you better start running. With your chip stack you should've left 10 minutes ago." I ask if he's serious, and he assures me he is. I ask where he is going and he says he's got friends picking him up so they can go eat...in my face. I determine that the BB won't hit me before the break, so I just leave. Not knowing where to go, I just start walking. I find the Poker Kitchen again and see that there's no one in there. I am hungry, but there aren't a ton of great options here, plus I didn't have time to wash my hands. I figure I'll just get food here and take a seat before the mob comes. With a 90 minute break, I can eat and go chill out for a while before the next level. I decide on some chicken fingers because I can eat them with a fork. I grab a table just as hundreds of people come storming into the place. I can hear all the bad beat stories already...man I hate them. While I'm eating, trying not to listen to anyone, one of the hundreds of massage therapists asks if she can sit with me. I tell her of course and am happy to not have to talk poker to anyone at this point. As much as I've loved talking poker and discussing strategy and such since I've been in town, now is not when I want to talk about it. I feel great and am on a great run, so I'm just going to use this time to reflect on my own game and figure out what to do from here...I do not want to listen to other peoples' plights. On a side note...what a racket the massage company has! There are literally hundreds of massage therapists that come in for the WSOP, and each has to pay a $50 fee to the company to let them work. Then the company gets half of everything the MTs make ($2/minute)! I should've gotten into running a massage company instead of poker. Although seedier, I would definitely make more money. I finish up with dinner, and take a walk outside. It's after 7pm, but it's still over 100 degrees outside, as usual. I call a few people and give updates on my progress. If only I can double what I have now, I may be in phenominal position going into Day 2.
I'm getting text updates, and there's a rumble to the crowd that Chan is destroying everything in his path. He's about two tables away and there's a lot of activity always. As well as I thought I was doing, he's somewhere around 180k...how the hell does that happen?? He doesn't even play poker anymore!!
The next level of play proves to be fruitless. I go in reverse the whole level. Low to mid pocket pairs a few times, I'd raise preflop, a huge board would hit and I'd either get led into or raised if I lead...all which led to me folding. After two hours of this, I'm down to around 50k again. We come back from our last break and we'll be playing a half level before calling it a day. Coming out of the break, JS hits a huge, paid off boat to get to around 70k. One of the poker reporters that had been around our table all day notices his new stack, having seen it earlier when he was short. She mentions that it's just like a previous tourney of his where she wrote that his short stack must've been good fortune because he came all the way back to get 4th and an almost 400k payday. He says he's been up and down all day, but now that he's at 70k, he'll drop down to 50k, then get it back to 100k before the end of the day. I tell him it's going to be me that'll take that 20k off of him, but there's no way he gets to 100k from me. We both give a little uneasy smile, as I think he knows I'm not kidding. Right in stride, about 15 minutes later, we're involved in what will be our final major hand of the day against each other. Having Cbetted the flop and turn to his fold a couple times after the AQ hand, he's back to believing I may just be pushing him around, so when I raise with K10clubs, he obliges one more time with a call. The flop come out with 2 clubs, so I bet. He raises and I call. He gets a confused look on his face, as the board is trash, except for the clubs. The 3rd club hit the turn and I've made my flush. I check the turn, as does he behind. The river is another trash card so I bet, and he folds. This was huge because I don't think he knew I hit the flush, but he realized one last time that I was not backing down to him like the rest of the table...this would come in handy if we meet again in this or any other tournament. JS winds up donking off about 25k to JT with about 20 minutes to go in the day. I pick up JJ with 10 minutes to go...not a spot I really want to be in, but here we go. I raise preflop and get a call out of JT. The flop is rainbow rags and I lead out, to a call from JT. The turn is another garbage card and I feel good so I throw out a reasonable bet, to which JT raises. I look him over, and knowing how solid he is, I show him my hand as I lay it down. He shows me AA and I've made another big laydown to close out the day. This hand, along with a couple others gives JT the table chip lead for the day. He has around 62.5k, I have 60.2k to close out the day. We bag up our chips and wish each other luck. I have a feeling I'm going to run into at least one of these guys again.
Before the last break, I noticed at the table behind me was the guy I met in the hot tub earlier this morning. Confused, I ask why in the hell would he lie about playing today. He says he made a terrible mistake and thought he was playing tomorrow, and wound up showing up an hour and a half late for today's tournament. I can't imagine how I'd be if I waited all this time for the Main to start, only to show up an hour and a half late...it'd be a nightmare turn reality! I feel bad for giving him shit, so I offer him a ride back to the IP. During this time, we talk about our day. Obviously mine turned out way better than his, but he's still sitting on 34k, not a bad start at all. We get back to the IP, and he wants to have a beer. Feeling good about my day, I agree but have to get my room extended until Saturday. I'm only checked in until the morning after each day I'd play, so hopefully I'll be doing this often. IP comps me another couple of nights and I'm even happier! I saddle up to the bar with John from Dallas, who proceeds to tell me stories of college wrestling at North Texas, then professionally for the Von Erichs at the Sportatorium, and his many meetings with Mean Joe Green. He's a nice guy who then tells me a little more about UB.com. He tells me through all the parties and such that he's attended with them, that he can introduce me to the guys that do the signing. He says he can't promise any money, but I might be able to get a free shirt or something out of it. John tells me with my stack where it is, they'll definitely want to talk to me. I agree to meet with them tomorrow afternoon and see where it leads. For now, I'm enjoying tonight as tomorrow is a day off. I proceed to get plastered until about 5am, when I make the walk down to the Flamingo for what I heard is one of the best burgers in town, and it's only like $1. The hammered, 2 block walk down the Strip at 5am is sketchy at best. I keep my head up and make blurry eye contact with everyone walking towards me, as I make it clear I won't be an unsuspecting victim of any type of crime this morning. I take a seat at the empty bar and order the burger special and a beer. Burger was awful, but I don't really remember. I do however remember the fries being spectacular. I was happy to leave the Flamingo, as the coconut smell they pump through the air is nothing like the sweet smell of Summer Seduction; it kind of makes me want to puke. I make the drunken, depressing walk through the IP at 6am and pass out in my room. I know everyone will be calling in the next couple of minutes to see how today went. I should really turn my phone off...
Driving up Flamingo again, the butterflies are at a near fervor. Today starts my hopefully long journey to becoming a World Champion, but it could also mean the end of this trip. As I'm driving, "Won't Back Down" comes on the Sirius and I turn it up. It's a reminder that as patient a player I am, I still need to play a way more aggressive game than I normally would (I actually tell myself this a few times throughout the tournament, as I'm throwing 50% of my stack into the pot Cbetting with nothing just because of my read on an opponent). Sitting in the parking lot of the Rio, I take a minute to gather my thoughts and look at some pictures my wife sent. I remember the words of my late grandfather "patience, patience" and put my game face on.
Walking into the Main, dressed for battle is pretty exciting. Let's be honest here, playing/watching poker can be one of the most boring things in the world for anyone. That's not to say I don't love it, because I do, but it's boring. As much as I love to play tournaments, I usually dread the grind that's in front of me, but when you walk up the stairs to the WSOP Pavillion, with the red carpet, media and fans everywhere, it's a whole different experience. It makes you very aware of what you're about to get into. As predicted, I didn't notice much in the halls, although it was packed with activity. I find my seat and get settled in. I have a routine I follow for just about every tournament I play. I make an FRS drink to sip throughout the day, I get my phone out (because I know I'll be texting the whole time), I get the ipod out and untangled in case I feel the need to throw it on, and I pop some gum. I look to the table in front of me, there's Mike Sexton. At the table to my right, Annie Duke. I find later that Johnny Chan is pretty close to my table just running over everyone. At my table are two well-known young pros Jason Somerville and Jonathan Tamayo. Although aware of both of their reputations, I'm afraid of neither and intend to establish dominance over all.
Settling into the table, this is the same as any other tournament. Sure, there are a ton more people than I've played against before, slightly more cameras and celebrities than normal tournaments, but once the first card flies out of the dealers hand, all of this goes away. The only thing that matters right now is paying attention and collecting chips. I love the starting stack, time levels, and the structure of the Main, so I'm excited to get underway. I've been preparing specifically for this moment for 6 months.
Almost immediately I pick AA in early position. I put in a 3x raise, to 2 callers. An A hits the flop, and I check, hoping to trap someone as there isn't a straight or flush draw out there. It checks around and another blank hits the turn. I bet just to see if I'm going to get some value, to all folds. I hope not getting paid on big hands isn't a sign of things to come, but at the same time I hate playing big hands this early in a tourney, so I'm happy with an easy scoop of the pot. Just as this happens, an ESPN cameraman nearly sprints behind my chair to film Annie Duke. His video camera drills me in the shoulderblade on the way by and it hurt like hell! Everyone at the table is laughing at me as I fake berate him. While everyone is laughing, I decide to use my newly won chips in a creative way. I raise 3x with 810 diamonds, still in early position. I get 3 callers this time, and see a 479, 79 of diamonds flop. This gives me the super draw, so I bet. I get raised by one, to which I just flat. A tidy 6 peels off the turn and I check to the raiser. He obliges my internal request to bet, to which I flat again. He definitely has me on a flush draw at this point. The river is nothing and I check again, letting him lead. He of course does, and I raise his bet, to which he folds. This immediately puts me up to around 40k, we start with 30k...a great start. The next few hands give the feeling that A. this could be my tournament, or B. I'm in big trouble. I say this because I proceed to get JJ and QQ in back to back hands. These are power hands, but ones that must be played carefully post flop. In each case, I raise preflop with 2 callers (It actually sucks that no one has seen my hands yet, so I'm going to start to get callers like this unless I prove what I'm betting/raising). In each case an A and a K hit the flop. I Cbetted both times to an above average raise from someone and I folded each time. In both instances the winner showed their hand and proved me correct in folding. I then play a hand that will tell a story for the rest of the day and earn me a bunch of chips. Having realized pretty quickly that Somerville always wants to be in charge by raising 80% of the time preflop, I decide to try to take some of his aggression away by playing back at him. With AKoff in early position, I 3x raise. He is the only caller. Total rainbow lowball flop makes me lead out with a reasonable bet, to his call. I immediately spot that he doesn't have anything and determine I'm going to bet this all the way through. Turn is another blank, produces no draw, so I lead again to his call. The river is a 6, and I throw out another sizable bet. He pines for a minute, finally making the call. He shows a 6 to pick up the pot. Having been taken down last week on almost the exact same hand in the DSE, I'm not happy about the call, but smile and say, "Mr. Somerville, that was an old man call right there." He smiles, and Jonathan Tamayo agrees with me and says he can't believe he called that (but being the really nice kid he is, apologizes to any old men around that may have heard us). I lose about 8k on this pot, and I ask myself if I've learned my lesson...I've now squandered a significant portion of two tournament stacks on the exact same scenario. I determine that Somerville will try to run all over me/everyone the rest of the day if I let down now, so I conclude that I must keep the foot on the pedal if I want to amass chips today. The rest of the table is just too weak for me to let him take all the dead money without putting up some opposition. About two hands later, I raise in late position with 65suited. I get a caller out of the BB, and the flop hits 665. The BB bets, and I flat call, hoping he hits his draw, or is sitting on an overpair. The turn is a blank, and he checks. I bet out a reasonable amount, but he immediately folds. I pick up a couple thousand from this, but maybe should've checked the turn behind and tried to let him lead the river...oh well, moving forward is moving forward in a tourney. Just then, the announcer comes over the PA to tell all spectators and fans to leave the pavillion because the players will be going on break in less than 10 minutes. A couple of hands later, I get 1010 in late position. As is the norm, JS fires out a min to 3x raise from any position. I flat call, as I don't like a reraise in this spot yet. I'm looking to spike/trap and let him use his aggression against himself. A semi perfect flop hits with an A106, two clubs. JS leads out as expected, to my call. Turn is a blank and he throws out a "I'm trying to get you off your hand" sizable bet, to which I take my time and just flat call again. The river is a club, which I'm not even remotely afraid of. JS surprisingly checks, and I immediately fire out a good bet. He pines for a while, trying to piece together what just happened. "That club doesn't scare you?" He asks. "No, but it would scare me if I were you" is my reply. This coaxes him to call the bet and I table my set. He tells me he didn't exactly see that coming. I smile and stack myself up to 44k at the first break.
Leaving the pavillion for break is nothing short of a disaster. Having not spent much time at the Rio in the weeks prior, I have no idea where anything is. There are two poker pavillions set up across the hall from eachother in seperate convention rooms, so it gets confusing when you leave your pavillion, especially since you can leave in any direction you please, and there are players/fans/media everywhere. I follow a herd to the restroom and stand in line. This is how breaks are spent, standing in line for the bathroom/food/whatever. Jesus, I'm glad I don't smoke anymore, I can't imagine having to choose between a cigarette and using the bathroom...those guys will bust out today because they undoubtedly won't go to the bathroom, they'll smoke instead. It's standing in the halls that I remember that I'm in playing in the Main Event. Goosebumps again. Exiting the bathroom and walking back to the Amazon pavillion, I notice a lot of women staring at me in a very pleasant way (eye f'ing me if you will). I think, "Damn, I know the pink shirt is hot and all, but wow!" Feeling great about myself, I turn to my left and realize Patrick Antonius is walking with me back to the pavillion. "You dick, I thought all those girls were looking at me" I say to him with a smile. He just looks at me, shrugs, and says, "What?" We both laugh and I get the hell away from him so my confidence as a man and poker player won't both be destroyed before we even start the second level of play. Heading back into the room, I hear Steve Begleigter explain how he got sent to the rail already...no back to back final tables for him. I head back to my table and the excitement subsides again as I prepare to own the next level of play.
Almost immediately I get AQoff in mid position. I raise and of course, the only caller is JS. I hit the flop with a Q57 board and lead out, JS calls behind. The turn is an A, which could be a great card for me, as I think he may have an A. I lead, he raises, I call. The river is a blank, and I lead out a good bet again. JS pines, finally saying, "If you've got it, good for you" and makes the call. I table my top two and he mucks. This hand is really where that AK hand from earlier pays off. I don't think he calls me down unless he thinks I'm on a play, and I've already proven that I'm not afraid to ride a play to the end. I'm now well over 50k in chips and riding high. The next couple of hours prove to be a back and forth battle between mostly JS and myself. He was able to double up through someone, so he always had about what I had in chips, and it gave him the ability to continue his bulldozer ways. He continued to minraise, 3bet, or call weak raises preflop and try to outplay the weaker players postflop. I'm well-versed in this strategy and watched for patterns for a bit. I have enough chips that I don't need to tangle with the other big stack unless I think I can beat him with my hand or with bets. He picks on the weak all afternoon, scooping small pot after small pot. Any time he's not involved, I do the same. I send a text to a friend back home that's been following all the action at my table, "Jason Somerville and I are on a collision course, and we both know it." Just before the dinner break, I'm at about 63k in chips, way over chip average. I get AJ suited and call a preflop raise from a very tight, mostly cash game player to my right. J54 is the flop. He checks, I bet around half the pot, really just hoping to pick it up there, but he comes over the top with a substantial raise. He looks very anxious and I decide to lay it down after tanking for a minute or two. He was a little short and was committed to the hand, so I didn't want to shove here. It may be that I just hate AJ, but I don't think I'm good. He later tells me that he really wanted a call and would've been doubling up if I did...I believe him. This doesn't damage me too much, and we're just about to head to the dinner break.
With 5 minutes before the break, I ask Main Event vet Jonathan Tamayo where I should go for dinner. I had tried to get Chip to pick me up and we'd go somewhere, but he couldn't. JT asks if I've made reservations anywhere in the Rio, and I tell him I don't even know any of the restaurants, so no I haven't. He says, "Well you better start running. With your chip stack you should've left 10 minutes ago." I ask if he's serious, and he assures me he is. I ask where he is going and he says he's got friends picking him up so they can go eat...in my face. I determine that the BB won't hit me before the break, so I just leave. Not knowing where to go, I just start walking. I find the Poker Kitchen again and see that there's no one in there. I am hungry, but there aren't a ton of great options here, plus I didn't have time to wash my hands. I figure I'll just get food here and take a seat before the mob comes. With a 90 minute break, I can eat and go chill out for a while before the next level. I decide on some chicken fingers because I can eat them with a fork. I grab a table just as hundreds of people come storming into the place. I can hear all the bad beat stories already...man I hate them. While I'm eating, trying not to listen to anyone, one of the hundreds of massage therapists asks if she can sit with me. I tell her of course and am happy to not have to talk poker to anyone at this point. As much as I've loved talking poker and discussing strategy and such since I've been in town, now is not when I want to talk about it. I feel great and am on a great run, so I'm just going to use this time to reflect on my own game and figure out what to do from here...I do not want to listen to other peoples' plights. On a side note...what a racket the massage company has! There are literally hundreds of massage therapists that come in for the WSOP, and each has to pay a $50 fee to the company to let them work. Then the company gets half of everything the MTs make ($2/minute)! I should've gotten into running a massage company instead of poker. Although seedier, I would definitely make more money. I finish up with dinner, and take a walk outside. It's after 7pm, but it's still over 100 degrees outside, as usual. I call a few people and give updates on my progress. If only I can double what I have now, I may be in phenominal position going into Day 2.
I'm getting text updates, and there's a rumble to the crowd that Chan is destroying everything in his path. He's about two tables away and there's a lot of activity always. As well as I thought I was doing, he's somewhere around 180k...how the hell does that happen?? He doesn't even play poker anymore!!
The next level of play proves to be fruitless. I go in reverse the whole level. Low to mid pocket pairs a few times, I'd raise preflop, a huge board would hit and I'd either get led into or raised if I lead...all which led to me folding. After two hours of this, I'm down to around 50k again. We come back from our last break and we'll be playing a half level before calling it a day. Coming out of the break, JS hits a huge, paid off boat to get to around 70k. One of the poker reporters that had been around our table all day notices his new stack, having seen it earlier when he was short. She mentions that it's just like a previous tourney of his where she wrote that his short stack must've been good fortune because he came all the way back to get 4th and an almost 400k payday. He says he's been up and down all day, but now that he's at 70k, he'll drop down to 50k, then get it back to 100k before the end of the day. I tell him it's going to be me that'll take that 20k off of him, but there's no way he gets to 100k from me. We both give a little uneasy smile, as I think he knows I'm not kidding. Right in stride, about 15 minutes later, we're involved in what will be our final major hand of the day against each other. Having Cbetted the flop and turn to his fold a couple times after the AQ hand, he's back to believing I may just be pushing him around, so when I raise with K10clubs, he obliges one more time with a call. The flop come out with 2 clubs, so I bet. He raises and I call. He gets a confused look on his face, as the board is trash, except for the clubs. The 3rd club hit the turn and I've made my flush. I check the turn, as does he behind. The river is another trash card so I bet, and he folds. This was huge because I don't think he knew I hit the flush, but he realized one last time that I was not backing down to him like the rest of the table...this would come in handy if we meet again in this or any other tournament. JS winds up donking off about 25k to JT with about 20 minutes to go in the day. I pick up JJ with 10 minutes to go...not a spot I really want to be in, but here we go. I raise preflop and get a call out of JT. The flop is rainbow rags and I lead out, to a call from JT. The turn is another garbage card and I feel good so I throw out a reasonable bet, to which JT raises. I look him over, and knowing how solid he is, I show him my hand as I lay it down. He shows me AA and I've made another big laydown to close out the day. This hand, along with a couple others gives JT the table chip lead for the day. He has around 62.5k, I have 60.2k to close out the day. We bag up our chips and wish each other luck. I have a feeling I'm going to run into at least one of these guys again.
Before the last break, I noticed at the table behind me was the guy I met in the hot tub earlier this morning. Confused, I ask why in the hell would he lie about playing today. He says he made a terrible mistake and thought he was playing tomorrow, and wound up showing up an hour and a half late for today's tournament. I can't imagine how I'd be if I waited all this time for the Main to start, only to show up an hour and a half late...it'd be a nightmare turn reality! I feel bad for giving him shit, so I offer him a ride back to the IP. During this time, we talk about our day. Obviously mine turned out way better than his, but he's still sitting on 34k, not a bad start at all. We get back to the IP, and he wants to have a beer. Feeling good about my day, I agree but have to get my room extended until Saturday. I'm only checked in until the morning after each day I'd play, so hopefully I'll be doing this often. IP comps me another couple of nights and I'm even happier! I saddle up to the bar with John from Dallas, who proceeds to tell me stories of college wrestling at North Texas, then professionally for the Von Erichs at the Sportatorium, and his many meetings with Mean Joe Green. He's a nice guy who then tells me a little more about UB.com. He tells me through all the parties and such that he's attended with them, that he can introduce me to the guys that do the signing. He says he can't promise any money, but I might be able to get a free shirt or something out of it. John tells me with my stack where it is, they'll definitely want to talk to me. I agree to meet with them tomorrow afternoon and see where it leads. For now, I'm enjoying tonight as tomorrow is a day off. I proceed to get plastered until about 5am, when I make the walk down to the Flamingo for what I heard is one of the best burgers in town, and it's only like $1. The hammered, 2 block walk down the Strip at 5am is sketchy at best. I keep my head up and make blurry eye contact with everyone walking towards me, as I make it clear I won't be an unsuspecting victim of any type of crime this morning. I take a seat at the empty bar and order the burger special and a beer. Burger was awful, but I don't really remember. I do however remember the fries being spectacular. I was happy to leave the Flamingo, as the coconut smell they pump through the air is nothing like the sweet smell of Summer Seduction; it kind of makes me want to puke. I make the drunken, depressing walk through the IP at 6am and pass out in my room. I know everyone will be calling in the next couple of minutes to see how today went. I should really turn my phone off...
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Shipping 10k?
I woke up today in a terrible mood. I still have no idea what I'm going to do. I talk to my wife, some friends, and my father. All gave great input, but ultimately this decision is up to me. Although warranted, I didn't really care that a lot of people would be mad that I came out to Vegas for all this time and didn't even play the Main Event. Those that would be mad are the ones that don't have a clue what this trip is about for me, so I could deal with them. All the great poker I've played and terrible luck I've had the last 10 days has me very apprehensive about playing the Main, but at the same time, I do have the game to sidestep some disasters and maybe make a run at cashing or better. Even a cash would be a good score, and maybe springboard me to more big tournaments. Winning or cashing a bunch of smaller tournaments could do the same though, and I certainly would get more play for my money. Undecided, I throw my stack of 100 $100 bills in the bottom pocket of my cargo shorts and leave, deciding to at least go over to the Rio to check out the series...and maybe register.
Not terribly hungover but not exactly right either, I head out for the day. Lately I've been driving from my hotel to the V (it's literally 2 properties away) instead of walking because I can't deal with the people and the Strip. I walk out the rear entrance, then drive right out the back door to Koval and drive around the corner to the back entrance of the V. It only takes a couple minutes and I have a parking spot in both garages that are there every time. Today I made the mistake of jumping on the strip instead of out the back door...disaster. I had just about forgotten about all the people, everywhere, waddling into the street and crosswalks. It was a stiff reminder of where I was and the environment I was in. As I sat in endless traffic, I watched these people, and wondered how many have taken a 10k chance, and would they if they could? The "Strip People" generally come out here for the experience of Vegas...Giant 5 foot bong contraptions of frozen beverages, going to clubs, sight seeing, and maybe do a little gambling in the process. Myself and the people I've been around most of the time are here for the exact opposite. We're here for the gambling, and maybe do a little partying on the side. It's two completely different universes...F 'em. They look like cattle (some literally) shuffling along the too narrow sidewalk. Being in this mess is not helping my attitude.
It's similar to the way I feel about the Main. It is the biggest, hardest tournament in the world, but there are so many that just come for the "experience" of playing in it, so they can say they did. These people have no concept of how to win a tournament, have no strategy whatsoever, they are just hoping that maybe it's their lucky day and will get the cards to carry them to victory. Even though all the best pros from around the world come to play, more than 70% of the players in the Main fall into the "hope I get lucky" category. Not that everyone doesn't need to get lucky to win the main, it's just that the overall lack of skill in the tourney makes it difficult to navigate.
I run some errands, tool around the Miracle Mile for a bit, and finally eat. I have every imaginable conversation with myself trying to talk myself out of driving to the Rio and handing the big stack of cash over. One more drive down Flamingo and none of this will matter. As I approach the Rio, I'm close to vomiting...again, not from being hungover, just the thought of entering the Main. If I had just another cash or two these past couple of weeks, if I hadn't been so unlucky over this stretch, I really wouldn't have a problem with what I'm about to do. But with so much of my bankroll about to to tied to one tournament, it adds a ton of pressure to the situation.
Walking into the WSOP Pavillion area during the Main is a much different scene than during the other events. Tons of media, fans, groupies (poker groupies are ridiculous, but real), top pros pack the halls and two playing rooms. There's an electricity in the air that clearly wasn't present when I'd been here previously in the week. I get more excited/nervous as I approach the tournament registration room. Armed guards patrol the room as about 100 people like myself are handing over a bunch of cash for hopefully the golden ticket. I'm texting my wife as I'm standing in line, telling her I'm about to throw up on the guy in front of me and I still don't think I want to do this. While in line I see and talk to a few guys I've been playing with at various points of the week. I don't know why, but seeing familiar faces made it easier to walk to the window and register. When I handed over the brick, the cashier left it there for about 10 minutes while she completed all the appropriate paperwork with me. At one point I told her, "Please take that or I'm going to puke all over it". She took a step back and didn't get it. I told her I was kidding (half) and that she was just putting it in my face by leaving the money on the counter all this time.
Now registered, I figured F it, I'm here, I'm in the Main like it or not, so I might as well enjoy it. I walked through the Pavillion and Amazon room, hoping to get acclimated with the circus that is the Main Event. After finding my seat assignment for the next day, I walk to the stage where they're handing out the last 2 bracelets won. I only watch because one of the guys is from Maryland so I cheer him on. While there, I got to meet and take a picture with Doyle Brunson, the man who literally wrote the book on modern poker. Again, I'm usually not a fanboy and wouldn't normally take pictures with poker "celebs", but this is different. Doyle is the man, and was very friendly and gracious in taking the pic with me. After this, I walk over to the feature table to see who's playing. It's at this time, I realize there's a very familiar guy standing next to me, it's last years 2nd place finisher, Darvin Moon. No one recognized him, as he's much smaller than he looks on TV. I immediately ask him, "Are you going to represent Maryland in a big way again this year, Mr. Moon?" He says he hopes so and asks if I'm from Maryland, as I'm wearing an O's shirt. I tell him I am, and that I'm playing the Main as well tomorrow. He gives me the very basic advice of, "Make sure you get it in good, and that it holds up when you do. That's the only way I got as far as I did last year...my hands held up." I thank him for the advice and wish him well. He asks my seat assignment for tomorrow and says he'll try to stop by and sweat me for a while. I don't believe him, but it was nice of him to ask. I walk around a bit more, being a fan and taking it all in. Tomorrow will be different, I'll be one of the players, trying to avoid the crowds and everything associated with it. I won't see any of this, focused only on the task at hand. I leave the Rio feeling a little better than I did earlier. It was done now, nothing I can do but play the best poker of my life and try to become the next World Champion.
The rest of the afternoon is spent catching up on the blog and generally relaxing. I decide to strap on the ipod and go for a walk on the Strip in a different direction. I figured I hadn't been to MGM and needed to expel some nervous energy/get some excercise, so I took the 2 mile hike. Weaving in and out of the cattle, walking way faster than a tourist, zipping past the card-smacking girl hawkers, I determine that this is exactly how I need to play the Main. I need to be aggressive, but have the wherewithall to sidestep the sightseers. I need to take each step carefully, but always progress and move forward. It's easy to get stuck behind a crowd, and I can't let that happen...on the strip or in the Main. After arriving at MGM, I decide to cross the street and check out New York, New York. I figure if the roller coaster is running, I can ride it to really shake out the nerves...and I love roller coasters. I find my way to the Coney Island part of the property and pay the $14 to ride the coaster. Yes, $14 for one ride. While standing in line for the front car with my headphones on, I realize I look like a GD pedophile. Damn, I hope I'm not that creepy old guy parents warn their kids about! Anyway, once seated in the front car, I take my phone out, deciding it would be a great idea to take a picture of the Strip from the top of the hill. Just as we're departing the terminal, the attendant yells, "Hey! You're going to lose that phone, put it in your pocket!" I basically tell him to F off, I've ridden a roller coaster before. This was a bad idea. As we reach the top of the hill and I get a couple quick snaps, I realize with the way the safety bar is positioned, I can't get my phone back in my pocket anyway. "Shit!", I say to the kid next to me, "I AM going to lose my phone. That guy was right!" The kid giggles and we rocket down the first hill. Vegas looks awesome from up here, just as on an airplane, you can't see all the crowds and traffic...it's very pretty. As I think this we hit the loop section of the coaster and my sunglasses fly off. I'm able to miraculously grab them with my pinky, just as my ipod comes out of my pocket! We're upside down and I see it hanging in front of me by the headphone cord. I somehow grab the ipod in the same hand that my sunglasses are hanging from when we get jerked around a corner and it jars my phone loose. In a move reminiscent of the Matrix, I pin the phone mid air to my elbow with my opposite wrist. The kid next to me thinks I'm screwing around and doing all this on purpose and he's cracking up. Luckily, the 3 things I need most (other than sleep) for tomorrow are secured as we pull back into the terminal. "That was close!" I say to the kid. "That was awesome!!!!" He screams back at me. "Only a little, that was a near disaster for me." Thankfully, he didn't run and tell his parents that some weird guy was talking to him on the roller coaster. Walking back to the hotel, I feel good. That really did get some of the nerves out, just not the way I had expected.
I go to Spago at Caesars for dinner. I had a Lamb Chorizo pizza that was pretty good, but not phenominal. I write for a while, read for a while, but can't really get tired. Chip comes over around 1am to talk about the next day, and what my strategy will be. I tell him I really just want to stay out of the way on Day 1, as the donkeys will let chips fly recklessly. I hope I don't have to play Ivey, as he may be the only player I'd realistically be intimidated by. We'll see what happens in the morning...
Not terribly hungover but not exactly right either, I head out for the day. Lately I've been driving from my hotel to the V (it's literally 2 properties away) instead of walking because I can't deal with the people and the Strip. I walk out the rear entrance, then drive right out the back door to Koval and drive around the corner to the back entrance of the V. It only takes a couple minutes and I have a parking spot in both garages that are there every time. Today I made the mistake of jumping on the strip instead of out the back door...disaster. I had just about forgotten about all the people, everywhere, waddling into the street and crosswalks. It was a stiff reminder of where I was and the environment I was in. As I sat in endless traffic, I watched these people, and wondered how many have taken a 10k chance, and would they if they could? The "Strip People" generally come out here for the experience of Vegas...Giant 5 foot bong contraptions of frozen beverages, going to clubs, sight seeing, and maybe do a little gambling in the process. Myself and the people I've been around most of the time are here for the exact opposite. We're here for the gambling, and maybe do a little partying on the side. It's two completely different universes...F 'em. They look like cattle (some literally) shuffling along the too narrow sidewalk. Being in this mess is not helping my attitude.
It's similar to the way I feel about the Main. It is the biggest, hardest tournament in the world, but there are so many that just come for the "experience" of playing in it, so they can say they did. These people have no concept of how to win a tournament, have no strategy whatsoever, they are just hoping that maybe it's their lucky day and will get the cards to carry them to victory. Even though all the best pros from around the world come to play, more than 70% of the players in the Main fall into the "hope I get lucky" category. Not that everyone doesn't need to get lucky to win the main, it's just that the overall lack of skill in the tourney makes it difficult to navigate.
I run some errands, tool around the Miracle Mile for a bit, and finally eat. I have every imaginable conversation with myself trying to talk myself out of driving to the Rio and handing the big stack of cash over. One more drive down Flamingo and none of this will matter. As I approach the Rio, I'm close to vomiting...again, not from being hungover, just the thought of entering the Main. If I had just another cash or two these past couple of weeks, if I hadn't been so unlucky over this stretch, I really wouldn't have a problem with what I'm about to do. But with so much of my bankroll about to to tied to one tournament, it adds a ton of pressure to the situation.
Walking into the WSOP Pavillion area during the Main is a much different scene than during the other events. Tons of media, fans, groupies (poker groupies are ridiculous, but real), top pros pack the halls and two playing rooms. There's an electricity in the air that clearly wasn't present when I'd been here previously in the week. I get more excited/nervous as I approach the tournament registration room. Armed guards patrol the room as about 100 people like myself are handing over a bunch of cash for hopefully the golden ticket. I'm texting my wife as I'm standing in line, telling her I'm about to throw up on the guy in front of me and I still don't think I want to do this. While in line I see and talk to a few guys I've been playing with at various points of the week. I don't know why, but seeing familiar faces made it easier to walk to the window and register. When I handed over the brick, the cashier left it there for about 10 minutes while she completed all the appropriate paperwork with me. At one point I told her, "Please take that or I'm going to puke all over it". She took a step back and didn't get it. I told her I was kidding (half) and that she was just putting it in my face by leaving the money on the counter all this time.
Now registered, I figured F it, I'm here, I'm in the Main like it or not, so I might as well enjoy it. I walked through the Pavillion and Amazon room, hoping to get acclimated with the circus that is the Main Event. After finding my seat assignment for the next day, I walk to the stage where they're handing out the last 2 bracelets won. I only watch because one of the guys is from Maryland so I cheer him on. While there, I got to meet and take a picture with Doyle Brunson, the man who literally wrote the book on modern poker. Again, I'm usually not a fanboy and wouldn't normally take pictures with poker "celebs", but this is different. Doyle is the man, and was very friendly and gracious in taking the pic with me. After this, I walk over to the feature table to see who's playing. It's at this time, I realize there's a very familiar guy standing next to me, it's last years 2nd place finisher, Darvin Moon. No one recognized him, as he's much smaller than he looks on TV. I immediately ask him, "Are you going to represent Maryland in a big way again this year, Mr. Moon?" He says he hopes so and asks if I'm from Maryland, as I'm wearing an O's shirt. I tell him I am, and that I'm playing the Main as well tomorrow. He gives me the very basic advice of, "Make sure you get it in good, and that it holds up when you do. That's the only way I got as far as I did last year...my hands held up." I thank him for the advice and wish him well. He asks my seat assignment for tomorrow and says he'll try to stop by and sweat me for a while. I don't believe him, but it was nice of him to ask. I walk around a bit more, being a fan and taking it all in. Tomorrow will be different, I'll be one of the players, trying to avoid the crowds and everything associated with it. I won't see any of this, focused only on the task at hand. I leave the Rio feeling a little better than I did earlier. It was done now, nothing I can do but play the best poker of my life and try to become the next World Champion.
The rest of the afternoon is spent catching up on the blog and generally relaxing. I decide to strap on the ipod and go for a walk on the Strip in a different direction. I figured I hadn't been to MGM and needed to expel some nervous energy/get some excercise, so I took the 2 mile hike. Weaving in and out of the cattle, walking way faster than a tourist, zipping past the card-smacking girl hawkers, I determine that this is exactly how I need to play the Main. I need to be aggressive, but have the wherewithall to sidestep the sightseers. I need to take each step carefully, but always progress and move forward. It's easy to get stuck behind a crowd, and I can't let that happen...on the strip or in the Main. After arriving at MGM, I decide to cross the street and check out New York, New York. I figure if the roller coaster is running, I can ride it to really shake out the nerves...and I love roller coasters. I find my way to the Coney Island part of the property and pay the $14 to ride the coaster. Yes, $14 for one ride. While standing in line for the front car with my headphones on, I realize I look like a GD pedophile. Damn, I hope I'm not that creepy old guy parents warn their kids about! Anyway, once seated in the front car, I take my phone out, deciding it would be a great idea to take a picture of the Strip from the top of the hill. Just as we're departing the terminal, the attendant yells, "Hey! You're going to lose that phone, put it in your pocket!" I basically tell him to F off, I've ridden a roller coaster before. This was a bad idea. As we reach the top of the hill and I get a couple quick snaps, I realize with the way the safety bar is positioned, I can't get my phone back in my pocket anyway. "Shit!", I say to the kid next to me, "I AM going to lose my phone. That guy was right!" The kid giggles and we rocket down the first hill. Vegas looks awesome from up here, just as on an airplane, you can't see all the crowds and traffic...it's very pretty. As I think this we hit the loop section of the coaster and my sunglasses fly off. I'm able to miraculously grab them with my pinky, just as my ipod comes out of my pocket! We're upside down and I see it hanging in front of me by the headphone cord. I somehow grab the ipod in the same hand that my sunglasses are hanging from when we get jerked around a corner and it jars my phone loose. In a move reminiscent of the Matrix, I pin the phone mid air to my elbow with my opposite wrist. The kid next to me thinks I'm screwing around and doing all this on purpose and he's cracking up. Luckily, the 3 things I need most (other than sleep) for tomorrow are secured as we pull back into the terminal. "That was close!" I say to the kid. "That was awesome!!!!" He screams back at me. "Only a little, that was a near disaster for me." Thankfully, he didn't run and tell his parents that some weird guy was talking to him on the roller coaster. Walking back to the hotel, I feel good. That really did get some of the nerves out, just not the way I had expected.
I go to Spago at Caesars for dinner. I had a Lamb Chorizo pizza that was pretty good, but not phenominal. I write for a while, read for a while, but can't really get tired. Chip comes over around 1am to talk about the next day, and what my strategy will be. I tell him I really just want to stay out of the way on Day 1, as the donkeys will let chips fly recklessly. I hope I don't have to play Ivey, as he may be the only player I'd realistically be intimidated by. We'll see what happens in the morning...
Monday Accusations of Cheating!!!
Almost got to bed by 7am last night, but not quite, so I woke up just before noon. I jump out of bed, shower, and head to the V for the next DSE event....
Now the rumor around town has been that once the WSOP Main Event starts, they will have to cancel their daily 1pm $200 Deepstack tournaments because dealers have been quitting at a pace that Harrah's hasn't been able to keep up with. So naturally when I walk up to the registration window an hour late (you can register up to 2 hours in) for the tourney at the V and saw a huge line, I assumed the Rio had, in fact, cancelled their tournament. This was not the case, it was just a giant field of over 800 players, with a top prize of $60k to the winner. I was anxious to get under way when over half the people in line didn't even have a V players card yet, which you need to enter the tournaments. This meant it was going to be a big, soft field...if only this could be the time I get the donkeys to ship their chips to me early and give me a stack to play with. Long story short, it was not the time. I played my brand of tight, anti-aggressive poker to chug along at a slow pace. I took a couple shots and missed, and picked up a bunch of dead money as well. I was always just below chip average, but moving along.
About 3 hours into the tournament, I was still at my original table and I had become friendly with the player to my left, a gentleman of about 60 that had a very respectable tournament resume. I was half using my ipod, and half conversing with this man. He showed me a lot of his hands and told me what he was doing to people across from us, and I'd give him a read or two on somebody to be friendly. At one point, I had my headphones on, and we are the blinds, I SB and he BB. Everyone folds around to us and I tell him I'm just going to be friendly and limp in (I have AJ off here). I half hear him say, "well, we can't be that friendly this time", and throws out a sizable raise of 5x BB. AJ being my nemisis, and knowing what he plays and what he would raise me with, I'm folding here easy. I laugh, and as I'm folding, hold the cards up so he can see what I'm folding, I realize that whole table needs to see them once I show him, so I table my fold. The V has some very specific rules for their tournaments, and one is if you show your cards in anything other than the act of folding, you will receive a penalty of one orbit. I still have my headphones in and am just giggling to the man when I hear the dealer yell for the floor. I don't even realize she's calling it on me until I hear her say I tried an angleshoot by showing my cards and should be penalized. I ripped my headphones out and say, "are you talking about me? What are you talking about? I laughed and was CLEARLY folding when I tabled my hand." The dealer says I held my cards up and paused enough to elicit a response out of the BB. I tell her and the floorman, that the only reason I paused was that I forgot I had to show everyone, not just him and when I realized it, tabled my hand for everyone. The dealer really wanted me to get a penaly, even as the BB is telling her he was 100% sure I was folding, and that I really wasn't even looking at him when I did it. The dealer pleads one more time with the floor supervisor, when I tell him how much time I've spent there and how many tournaments I've played in the last couple of weeks...I definitely know the rules. Supervisor rules in my favor and the dealer looks pissed. I still don't know what that was all about. The situation almost tilted me.
After this incident, we only remain as a table until just after the dinner break. I'm moved to my next table deep into the corner of the poker room. I like it back here, but am a little short on chips, so I have to be careful who I tangle with and when. I'm able to comfortably steal a couple blinds and antes, but don't get any hands that I want to get involved with. Just before our next break, Vanessa Selbst is moved to our table, only to be moved again before she is even dealt a hand. It took me about two days to remember where I knew her from, and I don't think anyone at our table recognized her at all. I successfully double up when I try a blind/ante steal from mid position with 66. I get called by QQ on the button. I start packing up my stuff as the guy has me covered by about $100. I tell the gigantic Mexican dealer that he's sexy and spikes a 6 on the river for me right in stride. I feel a little bad, as I saw this same guy take a bad beat a few nights ago, but it's about time I win from behind. This gives me enough chips to hang around a good bit longer. At 12 hours into the tournament, we're getting down to the payline, meaning if a few more people are knocked out, I'll be in the money. I was running low on chips again, as short stacks were shoving left and right and I had no hands to call with. This meant I was being slowly chopped down again. With the blinds at 2000/4000 200 ante, it was meaningful to pick up blinds and antes if given a chance. I took such a chance when everyone had folded to me, on the button. I shove with A6 clubs and get insta-called by the SB, a huge stack. He flipps over AK to have me dominated, and subsequently sent to the rail a mere few spots out of the money. 12 hours of solid play, so close to the money, and then it's all over in a flash with nothing to show for it. I'm glad I'm off tomorrow because I'll need it to get over the disappointment.
It's at this point the doubt in playing the Main Event is in full effect. I really, truly do not want to play in it right now. I feel with my play as solid as it is and my reading ability being fine tuned with every new tournament I play, I should keep firing away at the smaller ones. I'm going to have to tell everyone tomorrow that I'm not playing, or I'm going to have to go to the Rio and hand them a stack of $100's to the tune of $10k. I'm 60/40 at this point in favor of not playing.
I head over to Cut and talk to Chip about my play. He completely agrees with me in not wanting to play the Main. He's closing soon and I'm hungry, so I tell him to meet me at B&B when he's done. I knew the bartender, Eric from Long Island, so I took a seat at the bar to eat. His fiance is sitting next to me with her sister, and a Dutch guy named Iain. He was 33 as well, with long hair that he kept flinging around. Annoying and pretentious as he was, he told a lot of ridiculous stories and kept us entertained as I ate and they drank. Draped over the sister, he epitimized Eurotrash for the moment. I've met a ton of Europeans while here, and for the most part they've been extremely friendly and great to talk to. Iain was the opposite. He was a poker player here for the series as well, but I told him I didn't want to hear any bad beat stories...I was over poker for the day. I can summarize his attitude when out of nowhere he asked what the pink bracelet I was wearing stood for. The sisters answered for me, as they thought it was common knowledge when he cut them off and said, "well mine are better. They stand for..." and I have no idea what he said. I told him as serious as I could that I was very proud of him and ate my goat cheese tortellini, which was incredible. Chip arrived for a drink and we closed the place down, eventually all of us going to another bar in the V, where Iain bought us a bottle of champagne inexplicably...it felt like he did this every night. After chugging our glass, Chip and I said our goodbyes and wished Eric luck with "Thor".
Up way too late, drunker than I should be, I take solice in the fact that tomorrow is an off day. I've been putting in long days with no results and it's wearing me down. I lay awake for hours thinking about tomorrow. Am I really going to register? I just don't want to. Everyone's going to be pissed...
Now the rumor around town has been that once the WSOP Main Event starts, they will have to cancel their daily 1pm $200 Deepstack tournaments because dealers have been quitting at a pace that Harrah's hasn't been able to keep up with. So naturally when I walk up to the registration window an hour late (you can register up to 2 hours in) for the tourney at the V and saw a huge line, I assumed the Rio had, in fact, cancelled their tournament. This was not the case, it was just a giant field of over 800 players, with a top prize of $60k to the winner. I was anxious to get under way when over half the people in line didn't even have a V players card yet, which you need to enter the tournaments. This meant it was going to be a big, soft field...if only this could be the time I get the donkeys to ship their chips to me early and give me a stack to play with. Long story short, it was not the time. I played my brand of tight, anti-aggressive poker to chug along at a slow pace. I took a couple shots and missed, and picked up a bunch of dead money as well. I was always just below chip average, but moving along.
About 3 hours into the tournament, I was still at my original table and I had become friendly with the player to my left, a gentleman of about 60 that had a very respectable tournament resume. I was half using my ipod, and half conversing with this man. He showed me a lot of his hands and told me what he was doing to people across from us, and I'd give him a read or two on somebody to be friendly. At one point, I had my headphones on, and we are the blinds, I SB and he BB. Everyone folds around to us and I tell him I'm just going to be friendly and limp in (I have AJ off here). I half hear him say, "well, we can't be that friendly this time", and throws out a sizable raise of 5x BB. AJ being my nemisis, and knowing what he plays and what he would raise me with, I'm folding here easy. I laugh, and as I'm folding, hold the cards up so he can see what I'm folding, I realize that whole table needs to see them once I show him, so I table my fold. The V has some very specific rules for their tournaments, and one is if you show your cards in anything other than the act of folding, you will receive a penalty of one orbit. I still have my headphones in and am just giggling to the man when I hear the dealer yell for the floor. I don't even realize she's calling it on me until I hear her say I tried an angleshoot by showing my cards and should be penalized. I ripped my headphones out and say, "are you talking about me? What are you talking about? I laughed and was CLEARLY folding when I tabled my hand." The dealer says I held my cards up and paused enough to elicit a response out of the BB. I tell her and the floorman, that the only reason I paused was that I forgot I had to show everyone, not just him and when I realized it, tabled my hand for everyone. The dealer really wanted me to get a penaly, even as the BB is telling her he was 100% sure I was folding, and that I really wasn't even looking at him when I did it. The dealer pleads one more time with the floor supervisor, when I tell him how much time I've spent there and how many tournaments I've played in the last couple of weeks...I definitely know the rules. Supervisor rules in my favor and the dealer looks pissed. I still don't know what that was all about. The situation almost tilted me.
After this incident, we only remain as a table until just after the dinner break. I'm moved to my next table deep into the corner of the poker room. I like it back here, but am a little short on chips, so I have to be careful who I tangle with and when. I'm able to comfortably steal a couple blinds and antes, but don't get any hands that I want to get involved with. Just before our next break, Vanessa Selbst is moved to our table, only to be moved again before she is even dealt a hand. It took me about two days to remember where I knew her from, and I don't think anyone at our table recognized her at all. I successfully double up when I try a blind/ante steal from mid position with 66. I get called by QQ on the button. I start packing up my stuff as the guy has me covered by about $100. I tell the gigantic Mexican dealer that he's sexy and spikes a 6 on the river for me right in stride. I feel a little bad, as I saw this same guy take a bad beat a few nights ago, but it's about time I win from behind. This gives me enough chips to hang around a good bit longer. At 12 hours into the tournament, we're getting down to the payline, meaning if a few more people are knocked out, I'll be in the money. I was running low on chips again, as short stacks were shoving left and right and I had no hands to call with. This meant I was being slowly chopped down again. With the blinds at 2000/4000 200 ante, it was meaningful to pick up blinds and antes if given a chance. I took such a chance when everyone had folded to me, on the button. I shove with A6 clubs and get insta-called by the SB, a huge stack. He flipps over AK to have me dominated, and subsequently sent to the rail a mere few spots out of the money. 12 hours of solid play, so close to the money, and then it's all over in a flash with nothing to show for it. I'm glad I'm off tomorrow because I'll need it to get over the disappointment.
It's at this point the doubt in playing the Main Event is in full effect. I really, truly do not want to play in it right now. I feel with my play as solid as it is and my reading ability being fine tuned with every new tournament I play, I should keep firing away at the smaller ones. I'm going to have to tell everyone tomorrow that I'm not playing, or I'm going to have to go to the Rio and hand them a stack of $100's to the tune of $10k. I'm 60/40 at this point in favor of not playing.
I head over to Cut and talk to Chip about my play. He completely agrees with me in not wanting to play the Main. He's closing soon and I'm hungry, so I tell him to meet me at B&B when he's done. I knew the bartender, Eric from Long Island, so I took a seat at the bar to eat. His fiance is sitting next to me with her sister, and a Dutch guy named Iain. He was 33 as well, with long hair that he kept flinging around. Annoying and pretentious as he was, he told a lot of ridiculous stories and kept us entertained as I ate and they drank. Draped over the sister, he epitimized Eurotrash for the moment. I've met a ton of Europeans while here, and for the most part they've been extremely friendly and great to talk to. Iain was the opposite. He was a poker player here for the series as well, but I told him I didn't want to hear any bad beat stories...I was over poker for the day. I can summarize his attitude when out of nowhere he asked what the pink bracelet I was wearing stood for. The sisters answered for me, as they thought it was common knowledge when he cut them off and said, "well mine are better. They stand for..." and I have no idea what he said. I told him as serious as I could that I was very proud of him and ate my goat cheese tortellini, which was incredible. Chip arrived for a drink and we closed the place down, eventually all of us going to another bar in the V, where Iain bought us a bottle of champagne inexplicably...it felt like he did this every night. After chugging our glass, Chip and I said our goodbyes and wished Eric luck with "Thor".
Up way too late, drunker than I should be, I take solice in the fact that tomorrow is an off day. I've been putting in long days with no results and it's wearing me down. I lay awake for hours thinking about tomorrow. Am I really going to register? I just don't want to. Everyone's going to be pissed...
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