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...
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