Blair Rodman
12-18-2006, 06:15 PM
I needed to try to get some good rest before the start of the Big One. A solid month of poker had me pretty worn out. The opening session was to be spread out over four days in order to accommodate the huge turnout. I asked for Day 4 so I could get away from the scene for as long as possible. If I made it through, I would get the next day off as the survivors from the first two days would play that day. There was also a scheduled day off after the day 3 and 4 survivors play their second day. It promised to be a very long ordeal for the players who got though to the final table.
I drove with my wife to Mission Beach in San Diego, where Anthony Curtis, my friend and Kill Phil publisher, has a condo. I was ready to relax and recharge, except for one thing. It was brutally hot! This was one of the hottest summers on record, and San Diego didn’t escape it. Since oppressive heat is rare at the beach, there was no air conditioning. I couldn’t sleep and came back early. This wasn’t the preparation I had in mind. But, the time was upon me and I was excited. The wait was over and it was time to chase the dream!
As expected, I had never seen anyone at my first table in my life, although most of them seemed to know who I was. I had to get to work sizing up my opposition. The main things I want to know about unknown opponents in these situations are:
-How much experience do they have? I’ve met some players in the ME who have never played hold’em before. It pays to talk to players and ask questions.
-Are they going to play just to survive? Last year it amazed me how many players simply wanted to survive the first day. They cared little about getting a good stack to head into the next session. They just wanted to be able to tell their friends they made it through. It was very obvious as the end of the session approached and play slowed to a crawl, but this phenomenon began with the very first deal. Understanding this mindset made it easy to pick up pots from “no mas” players who weren’t willing to risk getting broke. Against these players, often a very modest probing bet would tell you all you needed to know.
-What are they capable of? Even though they may be inexperienced, some players may be willing to attempt the big bluff like they see on TV. Others wouldn’t dream of it. Some are going to play their normal “calling station” game, even on this stage, while others won’t play without the nuts.
I’ve always maintained that the WSOP final has more dead money and a higher EV for a good player than any other. Despite the huge field, this is more true than ever. What is diminished is the chance of winning and thereby garnering the fame and accompanying fortune. Of course, without the runaway popularity of poker that is fueling the rush to play in the Big One, the rewards of winning would be much less. Brad Daugherty, or Bill Smith never got rich from merely holding the title. This years’ winner will. I’ve seen many posts about how the ME should have a qualifying system, a bigger buy-in, or some other way to keep the numbers down. No way! It is the dream of everybody who plays the game to win the Big One and carry that title, and as many players as possible should have the chance to follow that dream. The H.O.R.S.E. event went a long way toward crowning the “pro of pros”. Hopefully that will become a tradition and build over the years. In the meantime, leave the Big One alone. I don’t care how many players enter, it’s still the greatest tournament.
I could quickly tell that there was a higher percentage of internet qualifiers and really inexperienced players this year than in past years. How? It was much more quiet than you’d expect from a room full of over 2000 poker players because most of them weren’t shuffling chips! Chip shuffling is the province of experienced B&M players, and their numbers were watered down in this huge field.
I splashed around in some pots. My game plan was to pick up some small pots, and hopefully trap somebody in a big one. Not too much different than the early stages of any major event, except in this one it figured to be easier to pick up the small ones and harder to trap somebody for all their chips. Caution was called for, because if somebody plays a big pot with you and you don’t have the nuts, they likely will.
The guy to my right knew who I was and seemed to want to verbalize his poker knowledge. He criticized a girl at the other end of the table, who was playing really well, for calling a small raise with 6-5 suited, and for moving in when she flopped a 15-out hand, even though he folded to her. It was apparent, while he knew how to play tight, there were some things about tournament poker he didn’t understand.
A popular subject of debate these days, and the premise of Kill Phil, concerns whether a good player should risk his whole stack on a race, even when he’s a favorite. I’ve maintained that even the best player can’t afford to pass up too many situations where he has a chance to double up. The deciding factors should be how big of a favorite he figures to be, what his edge is in that particular tournament, and how well he plays a big stack. In an event like the Big One, at least on the first day, a good player figures to have a bigger edge than in most other events. In my writings and lectures I put forth the theory that the most important attribute of a tournament player is the lack of fear of busting out. All these things came to the forefront for me at the first level.
With the opening level blinds of 25-50, I called a 200 UTG raise on the button from a player who I hadn’t seen involved much, and a call from the player on my right. I called with 6s5s, hoping he had a big pair and I could hit a lucky hand and get a quick double up. The flop came Js-7s-4h. Here was my 15-outer! The initial raiser checked and the player on my right bet 500. I made it 1300. I wanted to build a pot in case I hit, and I figured to get a free card on the turn if I missed and chose to take it rather than make a play at the pot. Nice plan, except the initial raise made it 2200! The guy to my right folded and I had the big decision. In a lot of tournaments I’d move in here without too much thought. This wasn’t one of them. Not only did I have to think differently about my situation, but I had to try to put myself in his shoes, too.
I felt he would likely call with an over pair to the board, so I had to consider whether I wanted to get all my chips in as a 55-45 favorite. I liked my table and thought there was real value in sticking around. It was also just the first level, and, I hate to admit it but I balked at the thought of getting broke that quick. However, I was also licking my chops over the prospect of getting the double up and having a hammer with which to pound on timid players. I needed to take it a step further and try to ferret out his motive. If he had AA,KK or QQ, would he check raise in this spot instead for leading out and trying to stay out of trouble. Not sure. Would he play a set this way? More likely. If he had a set of jacks, I’d be getting in as a 3-2 dog, not what I had in mind. I couldn’t fold, but was just calling out of the question? If I just called and hit my hand, would he pay it off? I thought if I made the flush he might get away from it, or I could sell it for a small bet, but if I hit the straight he might go for his whole stack. There was also a chance that my call would put him on alert and he might check the turn if a scary card hit that missed my hand. I’d started the hand with about 12k, so I could call and get away with almost 10k if I missed and he made too big a bet on the turn. OK, maybe a bit convoluted, but I really didn’t want to race. I called. The turn came the Ad and he checked rather quickly. Wow, now what? If he had a set of jacks he might have tried to trap me, but I didn’t think he’d risk giving me a free card. If he had KK, QQ or perhaps something like AsKs, I’d likely win if I moved in. However, I’d seen mind-boggling calls throughout the WSOP, and I didn’t want to run into one here. What I was really leery of was that he intended to bet the turn if nothing scary came, the unexpected ace made him a set and he reflexively checked. I took the low road and checked it back. The turn came the 3s. I’d have much preferred a different 3, but I’m not complaining. He checked, I made a really small bet of 2200, and he folded KK face up. What a strange hand. The magnitude of the Big One can do strange things. I didn’t like the feeling that I wasn’t willing to put it all on the line, and I had to carry on with the thought that I could have had over 20k, but I had to get on track and go about my business.
A floorman came by and I asked him if there was a breaking order. The process was that they would break a table when there were enough open seats, then put in a full table of alternates. This way they could all start equal with 10k. That was fine with me, but then problem was that they were breaking from table #1 up, and I was at table #5. That meant my table would break soon, and I was happy where I was. Sure enough, my table broke. Among the alternates to take over our table was Lennox Lewis. It would have been fun to play with him, but I was sent to the other side of the room.
Once again I didn’t know anyone at the table. A few of them addressed me by name as I sat down, I found out later that across from me was Mike Kessler, who had come in 17th in the ME last year. This table seemed tougher than the one I had left.
At the 50-100 level, I raised to 300 with AcKC. A guy two to my left, one of the guys who had called me by name, came in behind me. The flop came Th-3c-3d. I felt a continuation bet in this spot wouldn’t work. It’s become such a standard and well-known play that it has lost much effectiveness. If this player knew my play, he’d know that I didn’t have to have a hand to bet here. I decided to put some teeth into the play and checked to him. He bet 300, I check-raised to 900, feeling pretty sure this would do it. He re-raised 2000 more. Damn. Nothing had been working since I got to this table and I was down to about 8500.
I made it 300 up front with QQ. The button, a young guy who had a pretty big stack when I got there but hadn’t shown me much, re-raised 800 more. I knew this was going to be a crucial hand. What I didn’t know was who this guy was, what he was capable of, and what he thought I was capable of. The plethora of unknown factors in the early stages of the Big One is a whole different ball game for experienced players than anything else we play. I was playing pretty much blind at this point and was likely going to have to make some big decisions in this hand based on what I could pick up, not based on what I deemed his tendencies to be from observation, as I like to do. I called to see a flop, which I hoped might make it easy for me by giving me a set. The flop came Td-3h-3d. I check called 1000. I had a strong feeling that he had aces or kings and I was in a bad spot. The turn made it easier for me. Qh! Now my problem was how to get him to pay it off. If I bet and he had nothing I’d lose him. There weren’t any free cards to realistically be afraid of, and if I checked he might try to bully me. If he had aces or kings he almost had to bet, and he’d likely be pot-committed for the rest. I checked and he bet 2000. I just called, not wanting to spook him. The river came another 3. I moved in for 4300. With 8350 in the pot, I didn’t see how he could get away from a big pair, but he took forever to finally call. So long, in fact, that I was thinking maybe he called with something strange. I saw one ace as he folded, and asked him sympathetically if he had aces, but he didn’t answer. A few weeks later I got my answer as I was net surfing and came across an entry on gutshot.com in which the writer described the hand and revealed that he had seen my opponents aces. Regardless, I’d gotten lucky, something very necessary in this event.
I had over 17k when they broke my table again. How was this possible? My first table was #5 and this was #180-something. The table breaking policies at the WSOP needs some work.
Things at my new table started out strange, and got stranger. The empty seat that I took was supposed to belong to a guy who had made the mistake of putting his chips in his pocket when he was moving to that table. This is against the rules and they confiscated all his chips. This, like so many others, is a bad rule. In this case, if someone was really trying to pull some shenanigans with chips he wouldn’t pull them out at the table in front of everybody. This only punishes inexperienced players who are ignorant of the rule. And to what purpose? This is likely a player who will have a very bad taste in his mouth about poker tournaments and may not return. And he’ll probably tell all his friends. Poker is intimidating enough to new players without stuff like this. There needs to be intelligent discretion on the part of floor management. The lack of it just highlights the attitude that there is a never-ending pool of players and they will put up with anything to play in the WSOP.
At my new table I recognized a couple of players. I was in the 9-seat. Stu Patterson, a good young player was two to my left in the 1-seat. On my right was ex-Louisville basketball coach Denny Crum. I’d met Denny earlier in the year at a tournament at the Bellagio. I did a guest spot on the radio show he does in the Louisville area with ex-Kentucky coach Joe Hall. Denny is a really nice guy, and we had a good talk about basketball fishing, etc. I never realized that he had played under John Wooden at UCLA, as well as staying on as an assistant coach there. I remembered Denny as playing very tight, and he didn’t disappoint.
Still at the 100/200 level, I limped UTG with TT. A short stack in the 2-seat just called. The player in the 3-seat, who had a pretty big stack, raised to 600. I considered re-raising, but he seemed like he was loose enough to call a good-sized re-raise and I didn’t want to build a pot out of position with a vulnerable hand like tens. I decided to call and take a flop. The flop came 9s-4s-4d. I bet 1500. The short stack went all in for 4200. I put him on a 9 and like my position if the raiser folded. Instead, he called! Now I didn’t like it. He raised pre-flop and called a big all in. He had enough chips to raise and shut me out, so it was suspicious that he didn’t. Although I really didn’t have any kind of read on him, I put him on a pair bigger than tens. If I move in here I might be drawing slim if he calls. Not only that, but it was a dry pot and I’d still have to beat the all-in player. I still had a decent stack, so I folded. They showed 88 and AsJs. He made a flush on the river so I didn’t feel too bad, although if he hadn’t had a playable hand I’d have picked up a nice pot.
The next hand, I had 9c8c. Stu made it 600. A guy with 5400 made it 1200. Denny called. I decided to take a shot with my hand and called. Stu called also. The flop came 9-6-2 rainbow. The flop hit me, but not as hard as I’d have liked. After Denny checked, I checked to see what would happen. Stu checked and the re-raiser quickly went all in for 4200. Denny thought a bit, then folded. Then, I made a mistake. Actually, I compounded a mistake I’d made earlier in the hand. I’d overlooked the fact that the short stack had made a mini-raise, which in this case should have alerted me to a player who had a big hand and was looking to get it paid off. Had I focused on this, I’d have folded pre-flop. Had it dawned on me at this point, I’d have given him credit and laid it down. However, like I said, I just wasn’t sharp that day and I missed the clues. I called, Stu folded and I looked at two kings. I still had some outs but didn’t hit one. Then something happened that let me know how strange this day really was. Denny said that he laid down two kings! He said that he was so sure the other guy had aces that he folded. He had over 20k, so it should have been an easy call. I don’t think anyone else in the world would have fold kings in that spot.
I was on a downward spiral and nothing seemed to work. For example, I limped in with JT suited. The flop came J-6-2 with no color. I bet it and a kid who hadn’t played a hand since I’d been there made a big check-raise from the BB. I couldn’t see any way my hand was good, so I took another hit.
To cap off the strangeness, at least until after dinner, a guy called for a clock on the last hand before the dinner break. This isn’t so unusual, except he wasn’t in the hand and we were on break! Everyone else had left for dinner, but he wanted to see how the hand came out and he didn’t want to waste his break time, so he called for the clock when one of the involved players was taking a while to make a decision. I thought I’d seen it all.
I was down to 6700 and tried to re-group at dinner, meeting Anthony Curtis for some tacos. I also had a beer, something I do occasionally during a tournament to try to get myself untracked. I’ve had some interesting discussions on my forum about having a few drinks while playing. TJ talks about 1985 champ Bill Smith, describing how he was an ok player while sober, a world champion after a couple of drinks, but he became a bad player after he crossed the line. I think the idea that a little alcohol loosens inhibitions and helps to bring out the necessary aggression has merit in NLH tournaments. If you’re experienced, at later stages in an event recognizing the right play is relatively easy, but making the big play is more difficult. A drink or two can help you to pull that trigger. Regardless, I came back from dinner with my guns loaded and ready to fire.
I came back to the table and said “Break’s over, back on your heads.” Of course, no one knew what I was talking about, so I had to tell the joke:
A guy dies and goes to Hell. He’s met by an assistant devil, who explains to him that he’s going to have to choose the way he wants to spend eternity. He takes him to one room, where a guy is tied up to a board and is being whipped unmercifully. He decides to go on to the next room. In there a guy is in the middle of a huge fire and will burn forever. No thanks. In the next room a bunch of guys are standing around in [censored] up to their knees smoking cigarettes. Looks doable, so he chooses that one. After the devil leaves and he’s committed to his fate, another assistant devil comes in and says…….”OK, break’s over, back on your heads!”
I didn’t get many hands at the 100/200-25 level, but I was aggressive and was able to tread water. At the 150/300-25 level, I picked up JJ and raised UTG to 1100. I got called by the guy who’s had the AsJs in the earlier hand when I’d laid down the tens. The flop came 7-7-6 rainbow. I didn’t want to mess around here, so I moved in for my last 4475. He thought for a while, then called. I didn’t know what to expect to see. He couldn’t have had a pair bigger than jacks or he would have re-raised pre-flop. A seven? No, he took too long to call. He wouldn’t call a 4475 bet into a 2750 pot with AK would he? Nope---AQ. All I’ve got to do is dodge this and I’m back in the……….queen on the turn. I let fly a cathartic f-bomb. If they want to penalize me I guess they’ll have to wait until next year.
I had to come back the next evening and do a seminar that I’d promised to do for PokerStars. My opening sentiment was that the day after getting ko’d from the Big One is like a kid on the day after Christmas. You dream about it all year, and as it approaches the anticipation is almost unbearable. Then, all of a sudden, it’s over. Except at the WSOP most of us don’t get any presents.
I've been sittijng on this one for a while. Guess it's time to post it:
WSOP ME 2006
I’ve had good years and bad ones at the WSOP, and this was not one of my best. However, I’ve just seen the dates for next year, and it’s been moved up to a June 1 starting date. Christmas in going to come early next year.
I drove with my wife to Mission Beach in San Diego, where Anthony Curtis, my friend and Kill Phil publisher, has a condo. I was ready to relax and recharge, except for one thing. It was brutally hot! This was one of the hottest summers on record, and San Diego didn’t escape it. Since oppressive heat is rare at the beach, there was no air conditioning. I couldn’t sleep and came back early. This wasn’t the preparation I had in mind. But, the time was upon me and I was excited. The wait was over and it was time to chase the dream!
As expected, I had never seen anyone at my first table in my life, although most of them seemed to know who I was. I had to get to work sizing up my opposition. The main things I want to know about unknown opponents in these situations are:
-How much experience do they have? I’ve met some players in the ME who have never played hold’em before. It pays to talk to players and ask questions.
-Are they going to play just to survive? Last year it amazed me how many players simply wanted to survive the first day. They cared little about getting a good stack to head into the next session. They just wanted to be able to tell their friends they made it through. It was very obvious as the end of the session approached and play slowed to a crawl, but this phenomenon began with the very first deal. Understanding this mindset made it easy to pick up pots from “no mas” players who weren’t willing to risk getting broke. Against these players, often a very modest probing bet would tell you all you needed to know.
-What are they capable of? Even though they may be inexperienced, some players may be willing to attempt the big bluff like they see on TV. Others wouldn’t dream of it. Some are going to play their normal “calling station” game, even on this stage, while others won’t play without the nuts.
I’ve always maintained that the WSOP final has more dead money and a higher EV for a good player than any other. Despite the huge field, this is more true than ever. What is diminished is the chance of winning and thereby garnering the fame and accompanying fortune. Of course, without the runaway popularity of poker that is fueling the rush to play in the Big One, the rewards of winning would be much less. Brad Daugherty, or Bill Smith never got rich from merely holding the title. This years’ winner will. I’ve seen many posts about how the ME should have a qualifying system, a bigger buy-in, or some other way to keep the numbers down. No way! It is the dream of everybody who plays the game to win the Big One and carry that title, and as many players as possible should have the chance to follow that dream. The H.O.R.S.E. event went a long way toward crowning the “pro of pros”. Hopefully that will become a tradition and build over the years. In the meantime, leave the Big One alone. I don’t care how many players enter, it’s still the greatest tournament.
I could quickly tell that there was a higher percentage of internet qualifiers and really inexperienced players this year than in past years. How? It was much more quiet than you’d expect from a room full of over 2000 poker players because most of them weren’t shuffling chips! Chip shuffling is the province of experienced B&M players, and their numbers were watered down in this huge field.
I splashed around in some pots. My game plan was to pick up some small pots, and hopefully trap somebody in a big one. Not too much different than the early stages of any major event, except in this one it figured to be easier to pick up the small ones and harder to trap somebody for all their chips. Caution was called for, because if somebody plays a big pot with you and you don’t have the nuts, they likely will.
The guy to my right knew who I was and seemed to want to verbalize his poker knowledge. He criticized a girl at the other end of the table, who was playing really well, for calling a small raise with 6-5 suited, and for moving in when she flopped a 15-out hand, even though he folded to her. It was apparent, while he knew how to play tight, there were some things about tournament poker he didn’t understand.
A popular subject of debate these days, and the premise of Kill Phil, concerns whether a good player should risk his whole stack on a race, even when he’s a favorite. I’ve maintained that even the best player can’t afford to pass up too many situations where he has a chance to double up. The deciding factors should be how big of a favorite he figures to be, what his edge is in that particular tournament, and how well he plays a big stack. In an event like the Big One, at least on the first day, a good player figures to have a bigger edge than in most other events. In my writings and lectures I put forth the theory that the most important attribute of a tournament player is the lack of fear of busting out. All these things came to the forefront for me at the first level.
With the opening level blinds of 25-50, I called a 200 UTG raise on the button from a player who I hadn’t seen involved much, and a call from the player on my right. I called with 6s5s, hoping he had a big pair and I could hit a lucky hand and get a quick double up. The flop came Js-7s-4h. Here was my 15-outer! The initial raiser checked and the player on my right bet 500. I made it 1300. I wanted to build a pot in case I hit, and I figured to get a free card on the turn if I missed and chose to take it rather than make a play at the pot. Nice plan, except the initial raise made it 2200! The guy to my right folded and I had the big decision. In a lot of tournaments I’d move in here without too much thought. This wasn’t one of them. Not only did I have to think differently about my situation, but I had to try to put myself in his shoes, too.
I felt he would likely call with an over pair to the board, so I had to consider whether I wanted to get all my chips in as a 55-45 favorite. I liked my table and thought there was real value in sticking around. It was also just the first level, and, I hate to admit it but I balked at the thought of getting broke that quick. However, I was also licking my chops over the prospect of getting the double up and having a hammer with which to pound on timid players. I needed to take it a step further and try to ferret out his motive. If he had AA,KK or QQ, would he check raise in this spot instead for leading out and trying to stay out of trouble. Not sure. Would he play a set this way? More likely. If he had a set of jacks, I’d be getting in as a 3-2 dog, not what I had in mind. I couldn’t fold, but was just calling out of the question? If I just called and hit my hand, would he pay it off? I thought if I made the flush he might get away from it, or I could sell it for a small bet, but if I hit the straight he might go for his whole stack. There was also a chance that my call would put him on alert and he might check the turn if a scary card hit that missed my hand. I’d started the hand with about 12k, so I could call and get away with almost 10k if I missed and he made too big a bet on the turn. OK, maybe a bit convoluted, but I really didn’t want to race. I called. The turn came the Ad and he checked rather quickly. Wow, now what? If he had a set of jacks he might have tried to trap me, but I didn’t think he’d risk giving me a free card. If he had KK, QQ or perhaps something like AsKs, I’d likely win if I moved in. However, I’d seen mind-boggling calls throughout the WSOP, and I didn’t want to run into one here. What I was really leery of was that he intended to bet the turn if nothing scary came, the unexpected ace made him a set and he reflexively checked. I took the low road and checked it back. The turn came the 3s. I’d have much preferred a different 3, but I’m not complaining. He checked, I made a really small bet of 2200, and he folded KK face up. What a strange hand. The magnitude of the Big One can do strange things. I didn’t like the feeling that I wasn’t willing to put it all on the line, and I had to carry on with the thought that I could have had over 20k, but I had to get on track and go about my business.
A floorman came by and I asked him if there was a breaking order. The process was that they would break a table when there were enough open seats, then put in a full table of alternates. This way they could all start equal with 10k. That was fine with me, but then problem was that they were breaking from table #1 up, and I was at table #5. That meant my table would break soon, and I was happy where I was. Sure enough, my table broke. Among the alternates to take over our table was Lennox Lewis. It would have been fun to play with him, but I was sent to the other side of the room.
Once again I didn’t know anyone at the table. A few of them addressed me by name as I sat down, I found out later that across from me was Mike Kessler, who had come in 17th in the ME last year. This table seemed tougher than the one I had left.
At the 50-100 level, I raised to 300 with AcKC. A guy two to my left, one of the guys who had called me by name, came in behind me. The flop came Th-3c-3d. I felt a continuation bet in this spot wouldn’t work. It’s become such a standard and well-known play that it has lost much effectiveness. If this player knew my play, he’d know that I didn’t have to have a hand to bet here. I decided to put some teeth into the play and checked to him. He bet 300, I check-raised to 900, feeling pretty sure this would do it. He re-raised 2000 more. Damn. Nothing had been working since I got to this table and I was down to about 8500.
I made it 300 up front with QQ. The button, a young guy who had a pretty big stack when I got there but hadn’t shown me much, re-raised 800 more. I knew this was going to be a crucial hand. What I didn’t know was who this guy was, what he was capable of, and what he thought I was capable of. The plethora of unknown factors in the early stages of the Big One is a whole different ball game for experienced players than anything else we play. I was playing pretty much blind at this point and was likely going to have to make some big decisions in this hand based on what I could pick up, not based on what I deemed his tendencies to be from observation, as I like to do. I called to see a flop, which I hoped might make it easy for me by giving me a set. The flop came Td-3h-3d. I check called 1000. I had a strong feeling that he had aces or kings and I was in a bad spot. The turn made it easier for me. Qh! Now my problem was how to get him to pay it off. If I bet and he had nothing I’d lose him. There weren’t any free cards to realistically be afraid of, and if I checked he might try to bully me. If he had aces or kings he almost had to bet, and he’d likely be pot-committed for the rest. I checked and he bet 2000. I just called, not wanting to spook him. The river came another 3. I moved in for 4300. With 8350 in the pot, I didn’t see how he could get away from a big pair, but he took forever to finally call. So long, in fact, that I was thinking maybe he called with something strange. I saw one ace as he folded, and asked him sympathetically if he had aces, but he didn’t answer. A few weeks later I got my answer as I was net surfing and came across an entry on gutshot.com in which the writer described the hand and revealed that he had seen my opponents aces. Regardless, I’d gotten lucky, something very necessary in this event.
I had over 17k when they broke my table again. How was this possible? My first table was #5 and this was #180-something. The table breaking policies at the WSOP needs some work.
Things at my new table started out strange, and got stranger. The empty seat that I took was supposed to belong to a guy who had made the mistake of putting his chips in his pocket when he was moving to that table. This is against the rules and they confiscated all his chips. This, like so many others, is a bad rule. In this case, if someone was really trying to pull some shenanigans with chips he wouldn’t pull them out at the table in front of everybody. This only punishes inexperienced players who are ignorant of the rule. And to what purpose? This is likely a player who will have a very bad taste in his mouth about poker tournaments and may not return. And he’ll probably tell all his friends. Poker is intimidating enough to new players without stuff like this. There needs to be intelligent discretion on the part of floor management. The lack of it just highlights the attitude that there is a never-ending pool of players and they will put up with anything to play in the WSOP.
At my new table I recognized a couple of players. I was in the 9-seat. Stu Patterson, a good young player was two to my left in the 1-seat. On my right was ex-Louisville basketball coach Denny Crum. I’d met Denny earlier in the year at a tournament at the Bellagio. I did a guest spot on the radio show he does in the Louisville area with ex-Kentucky coach Joe Hall. Denny is a really nice guy, and we had a good talk about basketball fishing, etc. I never realized that he had played under John Wooden at UCLA, as well as staying on as an assistant coach there. I remembered Denny as playing very tight, and he didn’t disappoint.
Still at the 100/200 level, I limped UTG with TT. A short stack in the 2-seat just called. The player in the 3-seat, who had a pretty big stack, raised to 600. I considered re-raising, but he seemed like he was loose enough to call a good-sized re-raise and I didn’t want to build a pot out of position with a vulnerable hand like tens. I decided to call and take a flop. The flop came 9s-4s-4d. I bet 1500. The short stack went all in for 4200. I put him on a 9 and like my position if the raiser folded. Instead, he called! Now I didn’t like it. He raised pre-flop and called a big all in. He had enough chips to raise and shut me out, so it was suspicious that he didn’t. Although I really didn’t have any kind of read on him, I put him on a pair bigger than tens. If I move in here I might be drawing slim if he calls. Not only that, but it was a dry pot and I’d still have to beat the all-in player. I still had a decent stack, so I folded. They showed 88 and AsJs. He made a flush on the river so I didn’t feel too bad, although if he hadn’t had a playable hand I’d have picked up a nice pot.
The next hand, I had 9c8c. Stu made it 600. A guy with 5400 made it 1200. Denny called. I decided to take a shot with my hand and called. Stu called also. The flop came 9-6-2 rainbow. The flop hit me, but not as hard as I’d have liked. After Denny checked, I checked to see what would happen. Stu checked and the re-raiser quickly went all in for 4200. Denny thought a bit, then folded. Then, I made a mistake. Actually, I compounded a mistake I’d made earlier in the hand. I’d overlooked the fact that the short stack had made a mini-raise, which in this case should have alerted me to a player who had a big hand and was looking to get it paid off. Had I focused on this, I’d have folded pre-flop. Had it dawned on me at this point, I’d have given him credit and laid it down. However, like I said, I just wasn’t sharp that day and I missed the clues. I called, Stu folded and I looked at two kings. I still had some outs but didn’t hit one. Then something happened that let me know how strange this day really was. Denny said that he laid down two kings! He said that he was so sure the other guy had aces that he folded. He had over 20k, so it should have been an easy call. I don’t think anyone else in the world would have fold kings in that spot.
I was on a downward spiral and nothing seemed to work. For example, I limped in with JT suited. The flop came J-6-2 with no color. I bet it and a kid who hadn’t played a hand since I’d been there made a big check-raise from the BB. I couldn’t see any way my hand was good, so I took another hit.
To cap off the strangeness, at least until after dinner, a guy called for a clock on the last hand before the dinner break. This isn’t so unusual, except he wasn’t in the hand and we were on break! Everyone else had left for dinner, but he wanted to see how the hand came out and he didn’t want to waste his break time, so he called for the clock when one of the involved players was taking a while to make a decision. I thought I’d seen it all.
I was down to 6700 and tried to re-group at dinner, meeting Anthony Curtis for some tacos. I also had a beer, something I do occasionally during a tournament to try to get myself untracked. I’ve had some interesting discussions on my forum about having a few drinks while playing. TJ talks about 1985 champ Bill Smith, describing how he was an ok player while sober, a world champion after a couple of drinks, but he became a bad player after he crossed the line. I think the idea that a little alcohol loosens inhibitions and helps to bring out the necessary aggression has merit in NLH tournaments. If you’re experienced, at later stages in an event recognizing the right play is relatively easy, but making the big play is more difficult. A drink or two can help you to pull that trigger. Regardless, I came back from dinner with my guns loaded and ready to fire.
I came back to the table and said “Break’s over, back on your heads.” Of course, no one knew what I was talking about, so I had to tell the joke:
A guy dies and goes to Hell. He’s met by an assistant devil, who explains to him that he’s going to have to choose the way he wants to spend eternity. He takes him to one room, where a guy is tied up to a board and is being whipped unmercifully. He decides to go on to the next room. In there a guy is in the middle of a huge fire and will burn forever. No thanks. In the next room a bunch of guys are standing around in [censored] up to their knees smoking cigarettes. Looks doable, so he chooses that one. After the devil leaves and he’s committed to his fate, another assistant devil comes in and says…….”OK, break’s over, back on your heads!”
I didn’t get many hands at the 100/200-25 level, but I was aggressive and was able to tread water. At the 150/300-25 level, I picked up JJ and raised UTG to 1100. I got called by the guy who’s had the AsJs in the earlier hand when I’d laid down the tens. The flop came 7-7-6 rainbow. I didn’t want to mess around here, so I moved in for my last 4475. He thought for a while, then called. I didn’t know what to expect to see. He couldn’t have had a pair bigger than jacks or he would have re-raised pre-flop. A seven? No, he took too long to call. He wouldn’t call a 4475 bet into a 2750 pot with AK would he? Nope---AQ. All I’ve got to do is dodge this and I’m back in the……….queen on the turn. I let fly a cathartic f-bomb. If they want to penalize me I guess they’ll have to wait until next year.
I had to come back the next evening and do a seminar that I’d promised to do for PokerStars. My opening sentiment was that the day after getting ko’d from the Big One is like a kid on the day after Christmas. You dream about it all year, and as it approaches the anticipation is almost unbearable. Then, all of a sudden, it’s over. Except at the WSOP most of us don’t get any presents.
I've been sittijng on this one for a while. Guess it's time to post it:
WSOP ME 2006
I’ve had good years and bad ones at the WSOP, and this was not one of my best. However, I’ve just seen the dates for next year, and it’s been moved up to a June 1 starting date. Christmas in going to come early next year.