We weren't too deep into the tournament and I was still sitting right around my average stack. I'd given a few chips away before check-raising with the Hiltons on an undercard board getting myself back to even.

I'm dealt JhTd in middle position. There's one caller in front of me and I limp as well. It's folded around to the small blind who completes. The big blind then raises to 3xBB. The first limper folds. I call and the small blind folds.

That means two of us see a flop of 8s9s8h. I'm open ended. My opponent, with whom I am unfamiliar, leads out for about 2/3 of the pot. It's an easy call for me, I think. It's as likely to be a continuation bet as it is to be an overpair or underpair.

The turn is the seven of spades. I love the fact that I've hit my straight, but I hate the fact that it's a spade. Nonetheless, I'm pretty committed to this pot at this point. I can't sit around fearing the flush. My opponent leads out again and I push. He instantly called.

Any guesses on what he held?

He flipped over pocket tens, including the ten of spades. I would imagine that he thought he was in great shape. He had both an overpair and an open ended straight flush draw. That's strong. I was 68% to win the hand and 4% to tie it. There was a 2-1 chance that I double up and almost a 3-1 chance that I'm still in the tourney.

I knew I was done. Before the card even came. That evil poker doubt crept into my mind. The four of spades did it. The table said, "Ouch."

Was it "ouch," really? It's not like it was a stupid call. It's not like I tricked the guy into betting into my monster. Who among us wouldn't have made the call he did?

The cards fell his way that time. I'm sure he truly believed it'd go his way. Next time, I'll believe in the power of the Luckbox. It got me this far...

A couple of days ago, my wife and I put our kid to bed. Any parent knows what it feels like to exhale after another long day. I collapsed in my chair and looked at the woman who had once been my drinking buddy and is now the much-too-fit mother of my only child.

"I don't remember what it felt like," I said. "What was our life like before we had a kid?"

"We were never here," she smirked. And she was right. Five years ago, if we weren't working, we were out at a show, a bar, or a camp site. Still, it was nearly impossible to remember what life was like before the kid revolution on Mt. Otis.

Even if you lived the poker life before the poker revolution, I bet it's very hard to remember what it was like in the days before the 2003 World Series of Poker. Nine men sat at that final table. Many of them became famous. One of them helped revolutionize poker.

Now, five years later, it's interesting to look back and see what happened to them.

David Singer--9th place--Once a seven-card stud grinder, Singer's ninth place finish and $120,000 payday at the 2003 WSOP was, at the time, his biggest cash ever. Since then, however, Singer has become a well-respected tournament pro and has amassed more than $3.5 million in winnings. He's a red pro at Full Tilt Poker. In 2007, he final tabled the WSOP $50,000 HORSE event and won the first ever Caesars Palace Classic for $1 million.

David Grey--8th place--Unlike most people at the final table, Grey actually made more money in a previous event than he did at the 2003 WSOP final table. He won nearly $200,000 in 1999 for a victory in a seven card stud event. In 2003, he earned $160,000. Since 2003, Grey has had just one other six figure cash. In 2005, he won a little more than $365,000 for his bracelet win in the No Limit Deuce to Seven Lowball event at the WSOP. He's still a regular on the poker circuit and made it to the final three tables of the WPT Championship last month.

Young Pak--7th place--You remember him? Because I certainly don't. Regardless, he was there at the same final table with the rest of these guys. He placed seventh and won $200,000. There has been no reason for you to hear from him since. He cashed in a few more events in the following years. However, 2006 was the last time he cashed in a major poker tournament.

Amir Vahedi--6th place--Vahedi is one of those people who was around long before 2003 and will be around until someone poisons his cigar. Few people know that his final table finish was not his biggest win at the 2003 WSOP. Just a couple of weeks before the 2003 main event, Vahedi won a bracelet in another event for $270,000. His sixth place finish in the main event earned him $250,000. Today, he has more than $3 million in career tournament winnings. Just last month, he was bubbled the WPT TV table in his seveth place finish at the WPT Championship. In 2007, he cashed in 14 tournaments.

Tomer Benvenisti--5th place--I can still hear Lon McEachern saying Benvenisiti's name. Problem is, I haven't heard him say it since the 2003 broadcast. While Benvenisiti stood a great chance at becoming as big of a star as the rest of the people at the table, he simply didn't. He's still playing, though. Just last month, Benvenisti cashed in a prelim tournament at the Caesars WSOP Circuit event. He won $1,379.

Jason Lester--4th place--Before the 2003 World Series, Lester had never won more than $29,000 in a poker tournament. His fourth place finish in 2003 earned him $440,000. While his name is not held in the same reverence as many of the other people at this final table, he has managed to win more than $1.6 million in tournament poker and a WSOP bracelet in Pot-Limit hold'em. His last cash was at last year's WSOP.

Dan Harrington--3rd place--Harrington is one of a few people from the 2003 final table that needs no introduction. His books and record have come to speak for themselves. With $6 million in career tourney earnings, Action Dan has won more tournament money than any other single player at the 2003 final table. In August 2007, Harrington won more than $1.5 million in the WPT Legends of Poker event. It was his first first place finish since the year 2000.

Sammy Farha--2nd place--Farha's heads-up match with Chris Moneymaker is now the stuff of legend. It's usually forgotten that Farha won $1.3 million at that final table. Thanks in part to GSN's High Stakes Poker, Farha has become as well known for his high stakes cash play as he was for his runner-up finish in 2003. Regardless, he's still active on the tournament circuit. He won $398,560 and a WSOP bracelet in 2006 for a first place finish in the Omaha Hi-Lo event. Still, he hasn't made a major tournament cash since April 2007.

Chris Moneymaker--2003 World Series Champion-By the end of 2003, nearly everyone knew that Moneymaker had no poker past. His $2.5 million win gauranteed him a poker future. Shortly after his revolutionary win, Moneymaker earned another $200,000 in the WPT Shooting Star event. Although he has cashed a few more times since then (he has ten total cashes for around $2.8 million in live tournament winnings), he has not come close to hise 2003 success. Still, he is one of PokerStars' top pros and continues to play around the world.

***

Outside of the birth of the WSOP and the birth of the main event satellites, there haven't been many more important times for poker than 2003. Televised poker boomed, online poker boomed, the WSOP boomed. Everyone can say what they will about Moneymaker's talent or how the "poker boom would've happened anyway." I, for one, choose to give credit where credit is due.

It's now been five years since that May night when Moneymaker helped open the tent to everybody. Seven out of the nine people at the final table are what could still be described as "name pros." Poker, despite all the setbacks caused by the UIGEA, continues to thrive.

Next week, we can celebrate the anniversary of the day that made everything from blogger tournaments to bloggers playing in the WSOP as possible as it is today. What happened five years ago is the reason many of us can do what we do today. Whether it's making a living from poker play, poker writing, and poker affiliate deals or simply enjoying playing poker online and watching poker on TV, the 2003 WSOP played a big role in making it all happen.

That is a long way of saying, if not for the WSOP final table in 2003, we all could be trying to get on Dancing with the Stars instead of chasing gutterballs and writing about bad beats.

I think you know which one I prefer.

I used to say, "I have the bladder of a pregnant woman." Then, my wife got pregnant and still lasted longer between trips to the head than me. The Otis family bladder is pretty legendary. It defies all marketing plans about the distance between truck stops and laughs out loud at medical studies. If you were to put my father, brother, and me in a car for a road trip to Vegas and someone offered you an over/under bet on the number of times we'd stop to use the restroom, you should take the over--no matter what the line was.

Here's a confession I think I've only made to one person in my life.

Back in the late 90s, my relationship with Mrs. Otis was only a couple of years old. I lived in Jackson, Mississippi. She lived in Columbia, Missouri. I made the drive up to my old college town about once every two weeks. I'd get off work around 6pm, grab a bag of sunflower seeds and two one-liter bottles of Diet Mountain Dew. Even if I drove like a crazy person, the drive usually took around eight hours. I could cut 20 minutes off the trip if I only stopped for gas. I don't think I have to tell you that I saved the lids off the one-liter soda bottles for a reason.

Why do I bring it up now? Well, as I might have mentioned a few weeks back, I am an occasional reader of high-stakes no-limit grinder Leatherass9's blog. He recently made a confession on his blog to which I can relate--at least to the degree that I know where he's coming from, if not related to poker and EV. Here's a quick synopsis...the guy figured out how much he was costing himself to get up and go to the bathroom. He wrote, "So it essentially cost me $100 to pee. Twice a day makes that $200 and if I play about 250 days a year (very conservative estimate) that means it costs me $50,000 a year to pee which was more than I used to make at my old job!"

While I've never been serious enough about poker to pee in a bottle (I wonder what Jim Croce would've sung about that), I have put significant thought into how urination and poker go together. See, I've never understood people who take multiple breaks during poker tournaments. I know a couple of people who will take one or two smoke breaks per level (not including the official breaks) of major poker tournament. Leaving the table for a nic-fix or to go to the bathroom requires more than a "I want it" or "I gotta go." One should take into consideration a wide variety of factors. If leaving the table, it should be done in such a way that you give up as little positional advantage as possible while not missing any of your blinds. Thus, there are only a couple of times during an orbit when you can leave the table.

During that first year at the World Series, I happened upon this way of doing things. I'm happy to share it with you now.

The Otis Strategy for Urinating During a Poker Game

This one came early in the tournament, the 15/30 level. I had worked my way up to 3380T and was the chip leader at the table of 6. UTG, I call with 9c9sTdJs. I like grouped cards plus I had a pair and a flush possibility. Five of us see a flop of Tc5h9h. What's not to like, right? At this point, I'm only behind pocket T's. I lead out for 100 into a pot of 150 and get called by Mean Gene.

The turn is a seemingly harmless Ace of diamonds. It doesn't complete a straight and it doesn't complete a flush. It's unlikely to give Gene a set of Aces because he didn't raise preflop. That card couldn't have hurt me. I lead out 275 into a pot 350. Should I be betting the pot? I should, right?

This is where I become a giant pussy. Gene raised me to 445 to 720. "Really?" I type. "The ace did it."

"Nah," Gene tells me.

"Already had it?" I ask. "Big draw?" My time runs out, and I fold. I'm really out of practice, especially in Omaha, and I think my rust caused me to see a monster. It wasn't logical, but I saw it nonetheless. He raises preflop with Aces and he didn't raise. The chance of him having the last two T's is slim (remember, I have a T). Unless he's sitting on a monster draw like QJh, I'm in great shape. And yet, I folded.

"Top 3 pair," he tells me. Bad fold. Terrible fold.

It's Level VII now (150/300) and I'm among the chipleaders with 9477T. There are only five of us at the table now. Again, I'm UTG, this time with 8hJs9dTh. Once again, they're grouped, and I think they offer lots of possibilities. I limp again and three of us see a flop of KcQd7s. Bayne leads with a pot-sized bet of 900.

I have to call, right? I don't raise, right? The turn is the 8s. It puts a flush draw out there, but I shouldn't be too worried about that, should I? Anyway, the 8 gives me even more outs. Now, I complete my straight with any 6, 9, T, J or A.

Bayne leads out with another pot-sized bet of 2700. To me, that suggests he's trying to push out the draws. So he's sitting on a set or two pair, right?

This is where my tough decision comes. There's 5400 in the pot right now and I need to bet 2700 to see a river. If I'm getting 2-to-1 on my money, then I need to be getting 2-to-1 odds. My rough math had me with at least 17 outs out of 40 cards. I could have been wrong, but I figured it was good enough to call.

The river was a blank for me, the 4 of spades. Surprisingly, Bayne checked. I suppose I could have bluffed the flush. Would he have folded? I doubt it. I checked behind him and his set of Queens took it down. (He held 7d8dQsQh.)

Now this is where it all went down hill. We're down to three players. I had been as high as 25K, but a cold run had me down to 16K. AA_Matt_AA sat with 11K and Bayne had 8K.

From the SB, I'm dealt Js7sJc8c. I like that hand a lot three-handed. I've got a big pair, grouped cards and I'm double-suited. Bayne raises to 2400 UTG. I think my first mistake was not re-raising, but I just call. We see a flop of Td6cQc.

I've got a flush draw and a gutshot straight draw. All in all, I'd call that a good flop. The question is whether or not I want to get all the chips in the middle. I'm pretty sure Bayne is playing a big pair, just hopefully not Qs. If he does have an overpair, I think I have a lot of outs.

I check, he bets the pot, and I check-raise him all-in. I think I like the play, but I'm not sure. Bayne shows 9hKh3hKd. I'm glad the read was right, but I lost some of my outs. The turn is the Ks, which puts me in even worse shape. I'm down to any 9 or any club that doesn't pair the board.

The river is the Th. Not only does it not help me, but it gives Bayne the boat. I'm down to just a few thousand chips. It doesn't take long for me to bust out.

Did I play these right? I'm positive I should have pushed with my pocket 9s in the first hand. Should I have been more aggressive with my draws? I did an awful lot of calling. How about the check-raise on the last hand? I could have just called and then folded to the big bet with the K on the turn.

Anyway, I'll wait for some of you PLO experts to let me now if I could have played it another way. Hopefully I'll see some of you at the tables tomorrow at the next Saturdays with Dr. Pauly.

***

If you're just tuning in, see The Big Pair Limp Question for background.

Let me begin by acknowledging, there is no right answer to this question. Lee Jones' initial argument in favor of Esfandiari's move was convincing and sound in its foundation (maybe someday I'll convince him to guest post here and fully explain his reasoning).

It simply comes down to a "What would I do" question. The answer: I wouldn't limp with pocket queens under the gun in that particular situation.

With 20 or so players left, Esfandiari had the chip lead and double the chip average. I don't recall whether he'd played much with Stig Top-Rasmussen, but I know they had just recently been seated at the TV table together. Still, Stig had developed a reputation. He was a wild, celebratory, loose, hyper-aggressive Danish player who occasionally made moves that could politely be described as unconventional. I don't know if Esfandiari was specifically targetting Stig here or anyone who might raise. I do know, however, that Esfandiari was justified in believing in his big pairs. They'd been holding up for two days and played a large role in his chip lead.

Here, The Magcian had a choice. He could raise or limp. Limping wass sure to be suspect and opened him up to the possibility of playing queens against a wide variety of hands. Raising, though, would possibly kill his action. Which is worse?

Proponents of Esfandiari's move suggest that limping could serve to incite more action (as it obviously did), and, in the event everybody limps, Esfandiari could simply play his hand differently than he might otherwise. Again, a fine argument. In the event someone raises, he can re-raise and hopefully take down the pot right there. Thing is, that didn't happen.

So, what happens if he raises pre-flop? He might get a call, he might not. Stig might make the move in the big blind or he might not. There are other possibilities as well, and they are the reasons I think Esfandiari might have been smarter to take a more traditional line. Stig might have made a more conventional re-raise, at which point Esfandiari could've re-raised to announce the true strength of his hand. Or, Stig might have smooth called pre-flop, whiffed the flop, and given Esfandiari a chance to take down the pot then.

Again, none of those things happened. Here we saw a perfect storm of two gamblers' plays meeting over a massive pile of chips. Esfandiari was obviously the smarter of the two, but in the end it didn't matter.

I couldn't help but continuing to delve into the hyopthetical, however. It occurred to me, that Stig also makes that same move with Ace-King. In that case, Esfandiari has forced himself to play the biggest pot of the tournament on a coin flip when there is still a signficiant number of people left in event. Nobody likes to take a coin flip in that situation, but that would've been the result. The counter to that argument is valid as well...that it stood a greater chance of being a hand other than AK, and hence it was the right play.

The greatest argument in favor of Esfandiari's move is that he got his money in as a favorite. He gave him chance to have a gigantic chip lead (read: utility) with 20 players remaining. The fact that the result did not go the right way is irrelevant. Again, it's hard to argue that. We make decisions based the odds. Sometimes they don't go our way.

There is a counter to this arguement however. While the utility of having nearly 3 million chips when everybody else has under 1 million is immense, there is something to be said for having 1.6 million when everbody else has less than a million and the blinds are still at 5,000/10,000/1,000. It's a question of whether you want to risk giving up the only power you have for a chance at obtaining more power.

In the end, there is nothing wrong with Esfandiari's play. It was a gambler's move aimed at giving him a better shot at owning the tournament. It missed and so did he. Critics (I suppose this one included) would say that Esfandiari's attempt to give him a better chance at winning the tournament ended up in severely reducing his chance at winning the tournament. It's one thing to not go out like Broomcorn's uncle. It's another thing to have a chip lead and take a gamble for half your stack.

After I wrote the initial post, there came a time I was able to stand right over Stig's shoulder as his stack slowly dwindled back down to where it started before the hand with Esfandiari. I watched Stig clash with another unconventional line. This time it worked the way it was supposed to.

(From the PokerStars Blog): In one of the biggest pots yet, Henrik Gwinner came in for a raise and PokerStars qualifier Michael Martin called. Stig Top-Rasmussen re-raised from the big blind for an additional 190,000. Again, Martin called. The flop came out J92 and Rasmussen almost immediately pushed in. The only thing faster was Martin's call for his entire stack--516,000 more. Rasmussen shows pocket sevens to Martin's slow-played pocket aces. The board bricks out and Martin wins a massive pot, totalling around 1.5 million.

What's interesting, is that of all the guys involved in these big pots, none of them finished better than fifth place. As for the two involved in the hand in question, Stig finished in tenth place. Esfandiari ended up finishing in eighth.

I think this all goes to show two things. First, one hand does not always make a tournament. Second, I'm probably more conservative than the vast number of tournament players and that's probably why I finish second more than first.

As I write this, I'm folding away in 3 Poker Stars SNGs. I can usually fold my way into the final four and then scrape a few bucks in the end. If I were a patient man I'd make good money this way.

A good SNG is like an easy contract job. It helps cover a shortfall when the bills are due.

As a rule, I don't win much but enough that whenever I sit down and fire 3 or 4 up I'll have a few extra dollars in the "Cashier" window.

If I were a reasonable man, I'd be very profitable at poker.

THE BLACK HOLE

Even now, while still folding in my SNGs, I'm drawn to that list of gigantic MTTs. I'm like a lottery junkie. Frankly, the odds of me actually winning an MTT are about the same as the lottery.

If you ask my friends, those I rope into watching me as I approach the big payout, they'll tell you I've developed a pretty standard tournament profile. It goes as follows:

1. Semi-patient I fold marginal hands for an hour.
2. My patience pays off and I build a decent stack the moment I catch a few cards.
3. I use the second hour and most of the third turning my stack and, now, more aggressive style.
4. The blinds escalate, I lose my cool.
5. I make a very stupid play and go from a massive final table stack to the bubble.
6. I curse out loud and close the laptop without bothering to log off.

Sometimes I'll notice the clock on my cable box is nearing the top of the hour and quickly log in to Stars to see if there's a good tournament coming up.

If the only tournament is well beyond what I can comfortably handle in my roll, I'll convince myself I'm playing well enough to win anyway and register.

If my roll is just a little shy, I'll boot up an SNG and build it up a little so I can play in one of the big boys an hour later.

Pathetic no?

By the way, I've jut won one of my SNGs and missed the money in the other two. Thus, I've made a very small amount of money.

It's 11:15 as I post this.

I'm looking for something to do until some nice big tournaments start again at noon.

Quick background: Antonio "The Magician" Esfandiari has been running over the tournament for two days. With the chip average just over 600,000, he has 1.6 million or so. He's been moved to the TV table with a rather loose-aggressive Dane named Stig Top-Rasmussen. Rasmussen has about 700,000 chips. Blinds are at 5,000/10,000/1,000. Twenty-one players are still left in the event. First place pays more than €2 million.

The hand (from the PokerStars Blog): Antonio limped UTG to see the button and small blind limp as well. Stig, in the big blind, thought about the situation for a bit and then pushed his 700k chips across the line. Almost without hesitation, Antonio called. The others ran for cover before Antonio turned over QQ. Stig somewhat sheepishly showed his AT. When the smoke cleared, the board read 7 3 4 A J and Stig was stacking about 1.5 million in chips.

You choose: I'm still thinking about the hand, but I have 90% definite opinion. Lee Jones differs. Tell me what you think and why.

A) Antonio, based on his chip position, was wrong to limp with queens

B) Antonio, based on his chip position, was right to limp with queens.

I'd also, just for entertainment value, be interested to hear your opinion on Stig's play.

I don't like reviews so much. Trusting one person to tell you where to go is how you ended up drinking Ovaltine until you were 20. So, here I'm going to try to stick to a concensus formed among a number of people I know who have played in Caesars poker room. I trust everyone who reads this will feel free to back me up or correct me in the comments. Don't be shy. My feelings aren't easily hurt.

THE CAESARS TOURNAMENT ROOM

Caesars is one of few places you'll find in Las Vegas that has designated an entire room--a room much bigger than most poker rooms--solely for tournament play. Sepia toned pictures of some of your favorite poker players surround you and the seats are pretty damned comfortable. I have played several tournaments there and have managed to final table my last two. My feelings about this room are about as mixed as they come.

The Good

Depending on which tournament you play, the number of players and the amount of play you get for your dollar tends to vary. My last foray into the room saw me buying into the noon $200 tournament. On a Thursday afternoon, the tournament drew only 44 people (a far cry from what some of the $120 events later in the day draw). However, even with 44 people, there was actual poker being played. It was not a push and hope fest after the first level. In fact, it took us more than six hours to reach the final table and the winner was not declared until two hours later. Frankly, I'm not sure if I've found more play for such an inexpensive buy-in in any daily tournament. Even if I hadn't ended up making a little money on the deal, I would've been happy about the amount of poker I got for my buy-in. Now, to be fair, the structure in the later events is a lot faster and doesn't allow for nearly as much poker. The previous event I played was a $120 event that went off at 11pm. It drew around 145 players mid-week. We finished the final table before 5am.

Other good marks include a competent dealing staff and a rather good payout structure.

The Bad

If it hadn't been for the Rio's screw up with a recent World Series of Poker, we could all still cut some good deals in Harrah's property tournaments. I don't have this information down to the detail, but, according to a number of sources, the kind of money deals worked out during the WSOP ended up costing the U.S. government about half a million bucks in unreported winnings. As I heard the story, the IRS was none too happy with this and Harrahs ended up cutting a deal that requires them to pay out exactly the percentages listed on their payout schedules. If you ask a poker room manager at Caesars about this, he will tell you that the Nevada Gaming Commission requires Caesars to follow these rules and at no point will Caesars pay out an amount different than listed on the payout schedule.

So, no big deal? Well, not really. See, anyone who cashes out of a Caesars tournament for more than $600 is required to sign for it, generating a W2G and, thus, a record of winnings. Now, if I have poker winnings at the end of the year, I pay taxes on them. Here's the rub. Say you're down to the final table of a tournament at Caesars and, for whatever reason, you want to cut a deal. It doesn't matter how much money any of the players take out of the prize pool, someone is going to have to sign for top prize.

So, let's take a look at a tournament I played recently. At the end of it, four of us took an even chop for $2,000 a piece. One of those four players ended up having to sign for more than $4,000. I can tell you right now...it wasn't me, nor will it ever be unless I get consideration in the deal.

And that's what people say: Just work it out in the deal! Well, if you've ever worked a deal at a final table, you know that so many factors come into play that adding taxes into the mix can be the one thing that throws a deal out of whack. Trying to convince some guy from Brazil (who already has to give up a full 1/3 of his payout because of tax treaty issues with the U.S) that he has to sign for even more money than he's going to win is damned near impossible. So, deals fall apart. Or, if they get made...well, that's where things get even more interesting.

In the last tournament I played, we had been playing for nearly seven hours and were down to seven players. Only five were going to get paid. We decided it would be nice if the bottom two players got a little something for all thier effort. So, we made a little save for sixth and seventh place that guaranteed we all got a little profit on the deal. That's all well and good. However, after six and seventh place busted, they (and that includes me...) had to wait around for the entire tournament to finish before the could get paid. Because sixth and seventh place weren't listed on the payout sheet, Caesars wouldn't bring the money out. Plus, there was no way any of the rest of the players would go ahead and buy out sixth and seventh place, because none of them knew whether they were going to have to sign for bottom money or top money. Yeah, back to the taxes.

So, if you're going to play in Caesars tournaments, be aware that your ability to make a fair deal is going to be a lot harder than somewhere that is not a Harrah's property.

Side note: I need to include this, because it ruined my last experience. Something was going on with the speaker system in the tournament room. For for two hours, it sounded like there was a power drill over our heads, sometimes loud enough to keep the players from hearing each other. Despite our repeated requests for Doug, the manager on duty, to call someone about it, he refused and said there was nothing he could do. Although there were about ten open tables in the main poker room, Doug also refused to move us to the other room. In short, Doug was rather unhelpful at every turn. I do not find him representative of the staff there, but he did help ruin many players' experience that day out of a sheer unwillingness to be accomodating to his customers. I'm going to hope he was just having a bad day.

The Ugly

If there is one thing that will probably keep smart players from flocking to Caesars tournament room for the $100-$200 buy-in tournaments, it's the juice. It's about as disgusting as any place I have played. For instance, in the $200 event that goes off at noon, $35 goes to the house. If memory serves correctly, I believe the $120 events that go off later in the day charge $25-$30 juice. I'm not even sure why I bothered, except for the fact that I came out of the last two tournaments feeling happy and with more money in my pocket. Not as much money, however, as if the room didn't fleece me on the juice.

Think about that for a second. We'll say the juice on the last $120 I played was $25 (even though I think it was $30). At 145 players, Caesars made $3,625 in juice. I don't know how that breaks down going to the staff and dealers, but it's still pretty damned sick. I believe in the staff and dealers getting their tokes, but when the juice on a $120 is that big, convincing folks to tip any more is going to be hard.

I no like-a da juice.

THE CAESARS POKER CASH GAME ROOM

With all of the above said, I adore the Caesars cash room. I reserve my cash play in Vegas for a few places and Caesars is one of them. For the small to mid level player, there isn't much better place to play. The $1/$3 NL game is capped at a perfect $500. With that much money in play, the game plays a little bigger and allows for much better action than other $1/$2 NL games in town.

Even better, the $2/$5 and $5/$10 NL games are uncapped. I've never played the $5/$10 game but an uncapped $2/$5 NL game is a thing of beauty. It's the only $2/$5 game I've ever played that had $40,000 on the table at one time.

Caesars also runs several low-limit limit hold'em games and will spread other games on request. Management recently introduced a high hand jackpot. The day I was there, it was paying between $60 and $400 for quads up to royal flushes.

The room is well-run, has a good floor staff, and a competent dealer staff. Unlike other poker rooms, this one is cut off from the main casino by a thich set of walls and has the feeling of a private room, despite its enormous size. It's quiet and comfortable, despite being on the other side of the wall from Pure and the Caesars sports book.

If I had one complaint about Caesars room when compared to other rooms, it's that their staff of servers is slower than any place I've been. Waiting for food and drink there is like waiting for a premium hand. I've heard a variety of excuses for this and don't know which to believe. Some people say it's because it's a union shop. Other folks say the waitresses have to travel too far to get their orders filled. Regardless, it's the one thing I would correct about the service at Caesars.

***

So, that's that. Correct me if you like. Back me up if you life. Fill in the holes where you like. Bottom line, if you can stand slow service and some of the worst tourney juice I've ever seen, I'd recommend Caesars poker room. Just be sure you lock me up a seat.

That plan almost failed when my 88 was all in preflop against Pushmonkey's 99... but I calmly asked for an 8 in the chat box and the dealer obliged on the flop. From there, I was at or near the chip lead the whole way. Here now is my best Hoy impersonation (minus the donkey references):

Hand 1
This was some tricky strategy. I employed my super, reverse tell, continuation check manuever. Ah, screw that. I got all in with JTo vs. Iggy's Hiltons and I sucked out hard core. It's what I do.

Hand 2
Some more tricky strategy here. This time, it was against Garth and I had to be extra sneaky. Ah, screw that. I limped with the HAMMER. Flopped trips. Turned a boat. And cracked his Aces. The best part was when Al said, "Hammer goot" before the showdown.

Hand 3
At this point, oossuuu754 had promised me that he was in my rear view mirror. I told him I couldn't see him. He said I wouldn't until he passed me. So when I flopped top pair with KJo, I let him do all the work. He pushed with his AT and never improved.

Hand 4
I'm heads up now with FishyMcDonK and I have a 9-to-1 chip lead. He actually made quite a comeback, cutting my advantage to about 3-to-2. But it all ended when I masterfully and strategically flopped top pair to his second pair and all the money went in.

And that was that. Beware... my game is feeling good again. I'll see you at the tables!

I'm fascinated by this hand. I'm fascinated because I think both players played it very well and did what they had to do to win. Further, I'm fascinated because the players were able to make the moves they did with so much on the line. I was there for the beginning, middle, end, and epilogue. I heard no talk of any deal and honestly believe there was none.

And, so, this is how it played out.

It was the end of the 25,000/50,000/5,000 level. The players would go on break and play higher and later into the night.

Gavin made it 150,000 to go pre-flop and Marc re-raised to 400,000. Marc played a very aggressive game from the beginning of the tournament to the end. If he believed he was ahead or believed his opponent was weak, he would re-pop it. I'm not saying he was always right, but he was rarely afraid to make the moves.

Gavin called. And this didn't surprise me much. Gavin played great after the flop. He actually spent an entire day moving from 800,000 up to 2.6 million without ever busting a player. He was fantastic at using his table image to pick up pots post-flop.

And so the flop. It came out, as I wrote, 2s-3c-4d. To be fair, in this heads up battle, the flop could've hit or missed either of them. An amateur's read (mine), however, was that this flop was neither helpful to either of their hands, nor particular hurtful. I figured Marc for pocket eights or nines, and Gavin for a big/middle ace.

Marc pushed out a bet of 500,000. He seemed no more and no less confident than he always was. From my vantage point, I couldn't see Gavin's face. He always rested his chin on his left hand. He has been sick that day and was sniffling in between hands. He was starting to look tired. He didn't think especially long before announcing he was raising to two million.

The heads up battle had been going on for about two hours. There had been swings of a million here and there. Now, a hand that looked to get interesting. It's that moment when everyone watching moves from a slumped position to the front of their seat. All talking stops. It becomes absolutely quiet except for the sound of the cameras moving into position.

"All-in," Marc said and stood up.

Gavin had half his chips in the pot already. Everybody in the room knew, unless he had air, he was going to call. He had Marc covered by 500,000. It wan't really enough to play with, but, even so, I felt sure Gavin would call.

Gavin shook his head. "You have the best hand," he said.

"Air?" I thought. No, he was calling. He had to be.

"You're calling?" Marc asked. I wasn't sure if he was sitting in disbelief or if he was ecstatic.

"Yeah, I call," Gavin said.

"I have a pair of fours," Marc said, grabbed for his cards and slammed them on the table.

A pair of fours? Did he mean he had a set? No, I could see, he had a four and a ...seven? Yeah, he did. He had re-popped pre-flop, bet out and re-raised the flop, and he had top pair with a seven kicker. What's more, he was right. He was, if not statistically, at least in reality, ahead.

There was a moment during which we couldn't see Gavin's cards. The tournament director wanted to count up all the chips to see who covered whom. It took a good three minutes before he announced that Gavin held Kd-5c.

To summarize:

Marc: 4s-7h
Gavin: Kd-5c
Flop: 2s-3c-4d

With two cards left to come, Gavin had 14 outs twice. Any ace, any six, any king, or any five would give Gavin the lead. For the moment, it was basically a coinflip.

The turn was a three of hearts. It changed nothing except the number of chances Gavin had left to hit one of his fourteen outs.

The river was the king.

Gavin Griffin had won it all.

***

To be sure, it takes intellect to play heads up poker. That said, I think it takes more balls than it does brains. That's one of the reasons I'm such a bad heads up player. I have no balls. I know for a fact, I could not have made either of the moves those players did on the flop. The only way I can make those moves is if the money truly doesn't matter. I'm fair--at best--at detaching myself from the money aspect when making moves, but I think if there were that much on the line, I'd be one boring and ineffective heads-up player.

Frankly, it has me questioning whether I ever stand to be good at this game. I've faced a lot more questions than answers recently. Watching that hand play out made me question even more.

Regardless, it was fairly exhilarating to watch. I've played against Gavin online and I've watched Marc play quite a bit live. There's no doubt in my mind, they were not thinking about the money.

I'm curious as to what you think. We all talk a really big game. We all talk about how we could make moves and not think about the money. However, with a million bucks difference at stake, could you push with a low top pair and no kicker. Could you raise for half your stack with what you believed was no more than 8 to 11 outs twice?

The first two hours

I'll make this brief. I played about one hand each half hour level. My best hand was A8s and pocket 2s. I stole the blinds twice, won one hand that was checked down to the river and won another when I bet with 86o from the button at a ragged flop after it was checked to me. That was it.

Finding some chips

I felt good that I was on the opposite end of the table from Gavin. I was in the 9s and Gavin was in the 4s. Unfortunately, I was also on the left of Brandon. I didn't want to be in the position of him coming after me. Thankfully, we rarely tangled, and when we finally did, I ended his night.

The cards didn't turn for me at this point, but my chip position did. With an M of just 5, and blinds at 300/600, Falstaff came in for a raise to 1500. I looked down at pocket 3s, a monster the way my cards had come, and I pushed. Falstaff considered it for a bit, but eventually laid down what he told me was JTs. It wasn't a huge hand, but it gave me some breathing room.

It was just a few hands later that Brandon pushed into me. He had been crippled a few hands earlier and didn't have much left. I looked down at Ace-rag and called. Brandon needed some help that didn't come and I knocked out my first pro.

F$#%in' Blinds!

I don't know what happened, but suddenly we were four handed (on the bubble) and none of us seemed to be in great shape. In fact, all someone had to do to get from worst to first was double up.

I got myself severly short-stacked when my Ace-rag failed to hold up against Falstaff's KQ. He flopped two pair and there was no miracle for me.

Joe Speaker had already stolen my blinds a couple times and I told him all I needed was a face card to call him. He tried one more time and I looked down at K7o. My timing was perfect because Speaker only had K4o and I doubled up into the chip lead.

If you hadn't noticed, I still haven't mentioned a premium hand. This deep into the tourney, my best pair was 5s and my best Ace was A9. I couldn't find a hand to save my life. Frankly, I didn't know how I was still alive.

The deal turns

Better late than never, right? In fact, my beer-bitch, Bad Blood, told me that it was better to get big hands late than early. He couldn't have been more right.

Speaker found himself short-stacked when he pushed from the button. Sitting in the SB, I told the dealer that this would be a good time for my first premium hand. I squeezed an Ace fully expecting to squeeze something like a 4, after all, that's what I had seen all night. Instead, it was another Ace.

I called and tried to goad Gavin into getting involved as well. He thought about it for awhile before folding his pocket 6s face up. Kent had a hand that can crack Aces, but his JTs failed to improve anymore than the Jack on the flop. We were three-handed and I was the chip leader.

Sending the Canadian packing

To this point, I had hardly played a hand with Gavin. One time, he called my pre-flop raise with 32s and we checked it down to the river where my A8s won unimproved. Beyond that, he generally folded to my raises. I was clearly the tightest player at the table, by a long shot, and my raises got respect.

Three-handed, however, I was getting involved a lot more. Gavin pushed from the button, Falstaff folded, and I looked down at my second-biggest pair of the night: pocket 5s again. With Gavin's wide range (and when I say wide, we're talking Grand Canyon-wide), I could hardly lay down a pair.

I called and the best Gavin could do was hit a 4 on the river. He didn't show his other card, so I can only assume it was a big card, like an Ace or a King, or maybe he was playing suited connectors with a 5 or a 6. Either way, Gavin was out and Falstaff and I were heads up.

Who's The Luckbox?

Once we got heads up, I quickly became worried that my reputation was in trouble. Falstaff had already seen his fair share of fortunate hands. With a 3-to-1 chip advantage, I hoped it was enough to hold him off.

After jousting a few hands, we got all in preflop. I held Speaker's favorite hand, AJs. AJ is gold, after all, right? Falstaff was in trouble, holding just A3. Except for one thing. I was ahead. And that's usually not a good thing. When a 3 fell on the river, I was suddenly in deep trouble.

A few hands later, I looked down at my best hand of the night. It was only the second premium hand I'd seen. It was.... THE HAMMER.

Falstaff remembers him pushing, but I'm pretty sure I pushed and he insta-called. He was holding K7o, which we all know is no match for a hand as good as The Hammer. When the inevitable deuce fell on the river, I was back on top!

Two or three hands later, Falstaff decided to make a stand with 9To. I figured pocket Aces was a good enough hand to call with. By the river, Falstaff needed a non-diamond Jack to suckout. Instead, I completed my nut flush and it was all over.

Shock

I'm still not sure how I made it. Thankfully the structure was forgiving enough for me to play tighter than a 19-year old virgin with legs that go for miles... oh... where was I? And Gavin's constant taunts of "douchebag" did little to throw me off my game.

In the end, the tourney raised a whopping $12,000 for charity. It was a blast, and I can't wait to do it again!

I leave you with a picture of the lovely Lacey, the Bash's best bartender (yeah, her T-shirt says "Spin the Bottle Champ"):

And some pictures that are NOT gambling in a bar and a picture of our Beer Pong runners-up:

***

Absinthe would later write that no one should listen to me after one in the morning. Apparently, I am incapable of rational thought after Vegas' version of the 13:00 hours. That night, the same night Phil Hellmuth won his tenth bracelet, my friends had no such warning. They'd mistakenly hopped on the Otis Tilt-a-Whirl and were on the ride for the duration.

Our ride took us from the now infamous confines of the Tilted Kilt, to the side of the poker table as Phil Hellmuth celebrated his tenth bracelet, to the Ultimate Bet hospitality suite, to a taxi cab where the driver told actual fish stories and tried to convince the lot of us that Treasures strip club had the best steak house in all of Vegas.

Ultimately, we landed in front of Binions and in another world. We stood in front of the place that made the World Series of Poker famous. It was where Hunter Thompson, Al Alverez, Tony Holden, and Jim McManus had found the inspiration for each of their most famous books. Nearly every poker legend that we knew had made their bones inside the rundown building. As recently as one year before, Binion's still played host to the biggest event in all of poker--and, arguably, the richest event in all of sports or gaming.

Now, it was 1:58am and I had more name recognition than most people within stumbling distance. I would learn this half an hour later when the dealer looked up at me and said, "You're Otis" and the guy in the one seat said, "Holy shit, you are Otis." A world where I get recognized is not a world that God created.

If it hadn't been for the complete vacuum enveloping all of Fremont Street, my footsteps would've echoed. It was not a cavern of despair. For despair to exist, it would require someone actually caring. Instead, it was simply a black hole for things forgotten.

***

Everybody knows the little shop I'm talking about. It's the place you go when every bar and every gift shop in Binion's has closed down for the night. It's the first corner store you see when you breach Binion's air conditioning and step into the superheated Vegas air. If it weren't for the completely depressing nature of such a store in the tourism capital of the southwest, it might be considered a beacon of hope. Instead, it was the only place I was going to find sustenance for Wheaton.

I jogged through the door and then sprinted past the zombie behind the counter. He mumbled something about "brains," and I thought, "None here, sir." With time being of the essence and all (the tournament was now starting in less than one minute), I let marketing decide how to best feed Wheaton's beast.

"Snickers satisfies," I thought. I was a zombie for a good marketing campaign. I grabbed one candy bar, then decided I couldn't be sure that Wheaton wasn't on the verge of real meltdown.

"Three oughta do it," I said to myself. I threw some money at the zombie and ran for the door.

As I reached escape velocity, I spotted a giant bin of cheap sunglasses.

"Yes," I thought, my 2:00am trance kicking in something fierce. Poker players wear sunglasses. I should wear them for the tournament.

Another voice, this one near my medulla oblongata (incidentally, I think the zombie was eying that particular cut of my noodle), spoke to reason. "You don't have time to buy sunglasses. The tournament is starting in thirty seconds."

I'm not sure where the third voice came from, but it was emphatic as Wheaton was when he said he needed food.

"Steal them," it said.

I've never been a thief. Outside of a few poker blinds and a piece of gum from a corner store when I was a kid, I've always shied away from a life of theft. Still, it made so much sense. The bin of shades sat right by the door. I was already nearly sprinting. No one would catch me. What's more, I would be the envy of every 2:00am tournament player. The 22-year-old recovering alcoholic on my right would ask to borrow them. James Souza (onetime WSOP final tablist turned Binion's $110 tournament regular) would forget that I sucked out on him and compliment me on my ability to turn downtown Las Vegas fashion on its ear. The waitress who learned to bring me a drink every time she came by would ask me what I was doing when she got off at 6:00am.

In short, I needed the glasses and I was willing to resort to a life of crime to get them. Indeed, I would steal the sunglasses.

Just as my brain forced my hand toward the overflowing bin, my eyes fell on a hand-printed sign hanging on the display.

It read: DON'T STEAL.

The world stopped. Wheatons' Snickers began to melt in my hot hand. Suddenly, the tournament and making it to the table on time meant nothing.

Don't steal?

The zombies were one step ahead of me and that meant they had more brains than I did.

***

Everything beyond that moment is a matter of poker. It was a practice in crapshoot action, late night hijinx, and short-stack strategy at the final table. It was Souza saying (after I sucked out on him), "I didn't realize you'd been drinking." It was the young alcoholic asking me to move over because I "smelled like beer." It was Wheaton, Absinthe, and Spaceman sweating me at the final table and imploring me to bubble.

It was, in short, fun.

Still, as we sat down in the cab and settled up on the last longer, there was no escaping the fact that we were likely leaving a casino that won't exist in the near future. Like an old man who has outlived every member of his family, there was no one left to care whether Binion's lives or dies. We young travelers were hoping to find some breath of the excitement Binion's used to symbolize. We were left with the smell of cigarette-burned carpets and the sound of doors that closed before we even got there. While there was universal uneasiness about the way Harrah's was now running the World Series of Poker, there was no questioning that poker had outgrown its home and that Thomas Wolfe was probably right.

Still, Wheaton's belly was sated and I had somehow escaped transformation into a thief or a zombie's dinner. We had set out looking for adventure and we had found it. Like they say, it's not really about where you're going, but how you get there.

We left downtown Las Vegas as the sun rose over Vegas. The zombies would go back to their holes and we would go to bed knowing that, even if no one else cared, we had sat with Binion's as it slipped a little closer toward irrelevance and its ultimate demise. We were a hotel's hospice and it whispered to us as it drifted away.

I just had to get my poker fix before I come to join you in Vegas. I was playing the single table tournaments. The first tourney ended up with me and Cindy heads up. We were rather friendly and we got to talking about our favorite hands in poker. While we played, I told her the story of my first exposure to the Hammer (under the tutelage of CJ).

When Cindy wanted to know if I continued to play the Hammer, I answered with a laugh and said, "Ah, not really--all the players at my regular game have read the blog--I only play it when I am on the button now."

Cindy and I went on to chop first and second for a nice $470 each. We soon met on another table that morning. I landed the prized button. I did not look at my cards until the action was on me. I had to suppress a smile when the peek revealed 72o. There were two limpers ahead of me when I called as did the blinds.

The flop came 3A9, rainbow. Both players checked to me. I immediately raised to $400. Both blinds folded, followed by the first limper in early position. He threw down his cards disguised and threw me "the Look." The last limper folded and I took down the pot.

Just before stacking my chips, I flipped over the Hammer for all to see. This caused the early limper to exclaim, "You did not play that!" And began to boil at having laid down the best hand to the Hammer. I laughed and told him, "Now, we've broken the ice at this table." Cindy began to laugh and recanted my first exposure to the Hammer to the other players.

Jena arrives in Vegas tomorrow. We'll see how many Hammers she drops this week!

That's when I started catching cards. The turning point was A4. I flopped top pair, but had no idea Heather flopped two pair with K2. I turned a 4 however and doubled up. A few hands later, my Q8s turned a flush against Heather's top pair and suddenly, I had myself a good chip lead.

Then that crazy 4 card game arrived. All I wanted to do was not make stupid plays. I think I managed to win the first hand and had Heather in big trouble. She chipped up once or twice to cut it to a 3-to-1 chip lead and then it happened. The Luckbox emerged.

Playing for what I thought would have been the best low, I turned a diamond flush draw. Heather was so low I knew she was going to play for her whole stack. I announced that I was going to need a suckout and put her all in. The diamond on the river sealed the deal.

Had it not come, Heather would have cut my lead to about 2-to-1 and I would have been staring down the barrel of Razz, Stud and Stud 8. There's not enough luck in the world to help me through that minefield.

Be much better at poker than anyone else in the tournament.

Failing that, close your eyes an Puuuuuuush.

For me, winning tournaments is a lot like giving birth.

UP NEXT

Tonight Blood, TheMark, and I are playing somewhere. Either $200NL at the underground rake or a homegame at Mark's. We'll see.

Either way, I'm taking notes.

That's right.

Notes.

And if you thing Pauly's excellent coverage of real poker events is compelling...well...this will be only slightly less so.

Actually, much less so. But I hope to learn something from the notes. And, God knows, you may learn how much of a donkey I really am.

W/R/T CJ

CJ had a neat post a few days back called, "YOU CALLED WITH THAT?" I can relate. I think the biggest posts I've lost lately have been hands in which I correctly read my opponents holding, felt certain they couldn't call a big bet, and then lost when that certainty crumbles.

Some examples:

1. At theMark's last Thursday we're playing $100NL

I have AQo and the flop is Jack high with 3 clubs. I check and my opponent, a fairly passive but loose player bets about half the pot.

I call because I'm absolutely certain he's hit the flop but doesn't have the flush and I plan to steal the pot later. I figure my play certainly represents a possible flush or Ace of clubs draw.

The turn brings my Q for top pair. I bet about half the pot and he calls.

The river is a 10 of clubs. I don't HAVE a club but my opponent actually says, "Jeez" when the 4th club hit and I know he hates his hand, probably 2 pair or a flopped set. I bet the pot.

He thinks for a long time. At least I thought he was thinking. Turns out he didn't see me bet and was just waiting for me to act. He's a very attentive player. When I pointed to my bet, he insta-called.

Sure enough. Two pair. No clubs.

I was stunned by the call.

2. Same game, this is my last hand of the night.

A player to my left flops the flush with 3 hearts (the highest is a 10). I flopped a set. I bet and he calls. The turn is a brick. I bet and he calls. The river? ANOTHER HEART.

My opponent, not the same guy but another "Oh DAMMIT!" and it's clear his flush sucks. I push all in for $105 into an $85 pot. He thinks. And calls.

He did, in fact, flop the flush. It was jack high.

I didn't think he could call.

7:47pm--49 minutes into $40K Guaranteed event. Card dead enough to watch 60 minutes and eat a ham and pineapple pizza. Want to play a $15K guaranteed on another site, but am, get this, ten cents short of the buy-in. So, I'm playing pineapple to make up the buy-in. And, I'm losing. If I don't hit a pot in the next ten minutes, I'm going to feel even worse about myself. Need to find two more tournies to get in.

7:55pm--The $40K Guaranteed actually has a 75K prizepool. I've had a pathetic game. More than half the field is gone and I have barely more than my starting stack. On the bright side, I'm signed up for the $100 PLO8 event. That should help the tilt a little. Also looks like I'll be a running a $33 NLHE event.

8:06pm-- On in the background: The West Wing. Obviously I've missed about four years of changes. In other news, my seven year old dog has stopped eating her food. She refused to eat aything but processed cheese and pizza crust. I'm accomodating her by not eating anything but the above. Three tournaments going now. Looking for a fourth to fill up the screen.

8:17pm-- Pineapple on pizza reminds me of my first trip to Hawaii. Oh, and being out in the $40K reminds me of...well, just about every tournament experience in recent memory. Now, I only have two tournaments running. Buy-in count... $252.

8:21pm-- Looks like my only option now is a $11 buy-in $20K guarantee. God, how I loathe these events. But I'm in. Which is better than being out. Which is what I figure to be a lot tonight. Buy-in count... $263. (Note: The river heart that makes your nut flush versus quads is a perfect start to the experiment).

8:30pm--With the $40K behind us, I'm one event short. Erp, make that two events. Ran kings into aces on an all undercard board. Bye-bye $11 event. Back down to two tournaments.

8:35pm-- Sickness ensues. Suffice it to say, I'm no longer in the PLO8 event. Flopped full, got my money in, got outdrawn. I remind myself now that this is why I did this in the first place. Get really, really tilted and then remind myself that it is all just a game. For those keeping score, I'm now only in one event. So much for four at a time.

8:41pm--The tournament list on the two available sites is painfully empty at the moment. Looks like I'll fill back up at 9pm. Then, we'll add a $100 NLHE event and a $24 bracelet race to bring the buy-in cout to $396.

8:40pm--Since I have nothing to do but fold in the $33 event, I took a trip to the kitchen. Would you believe there are only two beers in there? And here in South Cacklacky, I can't go to the store and buy more. I makes me think I just shouldn't drink any. I also wonder if Jimmy Smits is thinking, "Damn, I coulda been a good President." That also gets me thinking about the political people. It's four or eight years in a job followed by...well, what do I do now? In other news, I'm not playing in any tournaments right now. Because I'm a dumb ass, that's why.

8:58pm--So, my ego told me to delete this hour-long experiment and just play the 9pm events without this stupid blogging. I told my ego to go fug itself. I also decided my ego will allow me to tell you that I'm going to watch Desperate Housewives.

9:06pm--Note to everyone. If I'm in the big blind in a no-limit hold'em tournament, I will always call a min-raise. Always. Well, not always. But if we're in the first few levels...always. Like they say, 60% of the time, it works every time.

9:10pm--Watched Rounders again today. Still doesn't get old. Still have a hard time watching the moot court scene for some reason. Also watched (ego, cover your ears) Fever Pitch. It sort of made me think about the common thread among poker players with non-playing wives, vis a vis passion for something that is seemingly meaningless in the grand scheme of things while trying to maintain an adult relationship. Also, just entered a $22 NLHE event to bring to buy-in count up to $418.

9:20--Three events runninig now. No stack movement to speak of. Just realized, I could use a shower. Bachelor life, especially that of a guy like me who has friends that are otherwise occupied, lends itself to poor hygiene. Last night, I spent several hours trying to find a running buddy. I ended up drinking Guinness by myself in a bar listening to a Texas-style blues band. That lasted for an hour before I gave up on being a loney and went to Ted's house to drink beer and fix his iPod. Then, I grabbed G-Rob him and took him to a poker game that didn't exist.

In other news, doubled up with jacks (oddly enough) in the Bracelet Race thanks to a guy calling a raise and re-raise with pocket nines in the small blind then jamming on an eight-high flop.

9:32pm--So, let's be honest. Somewhere along the way (say, in the last couple of months), I let my tournament skills get pretty dull. I'm trying to pinpoint where I went wrong. Part of it, I know, is that I started playing a little more loose-aggressive game and I don't know what I'm doing.

9:43--Win one lose one. Queens got beat by AQ in the $109 event. Tens doubled through eights in the $22 event. Still above average in the Bracelet Race. I've run pretty bad at those, however, so I have no expectation of doing at all well. Plus, I just noticed Change100 is in the event, as well. I'm doomed.

9:48--Just decided I'm going to run two more events tonight. Will do the $162 and the $19K Guarantee at at 10pm. That will bring the nightly buy-in to $606. Overall, I'm going to have to do well in one of these events to even break even. Makes me think I should look into something else to do tonight.

10:00pm--Now, we're in the final four events of the evening. Here's an action flop for you. QJ4 with three players in holding KQ, JJ, and 44. I held the KQ and made the laydown before it got ugly.

10:06pm--AK falls to JJ in the $22 event. Nicely however, KK holds up against TT in the $162.

10:14pm--Note to min-raisers. Read my earlier post. From the big blind, I will call with anything...always. And when I flop a set, you're not allowed to get pissy.

10:23pm--I didn't mention, I'm comfortably watching Grey's Anatomy. My ego allows this because every girl on the show is pretty hot. In fact, I've recently taken a shine to Kate Walsh. Note to self...chasing nut flush and hitting runner-runner two pair is only good if your opponent doesn't have a higher two pair.

10:31pm--Yeah, there's the tilt I was looking for. QQ vs. 99 all in pre-flop in the Bracelet Race. Hello, nine. Now I feel right again. EVerything was going too well there for a second.

10:32--And then it comes in bunches. I won't even speak of the thing that just happened in the $19K. Won't even speak of it.

10:46--So, here's where we stand. Still alive in $19K, comforted by my opponent's "Damn, sorry, man." That helped a lot. Have an avg stack in the $162. Still a long way to go in both. Damn, this house is quiet when no one is around. I mean, it's nice for a couple of days, but after a while, it reminds me how much I love the noise sometimes.

10:53: Ooooh, embrace the tilt. EMBRACE it. Feels so good. $162 work has been nearly erased. That's one hour of good endorphins followed by right the sharp, sharp pleasure of tilt. Bring it, bitch. Briiiiiing it.

10:59pm--Well, headed into the third hour of this experiment, I'm only going to be playing in the $162. I have an M of about 10. The end of Grey's Anatomy was a piece of work, to be sure. I've just discovered why I never ever do this kind of thing. It's about as boring as it comes. I'm just waiting for the blissful end.

11:03--2005 WSOP Main Event in reruns. I think ESPN does the best production job of any poker TV production team.

11:15pm--If I were actually a bachelor, I would live in squalor. I would be fat and disgusting. I would watch too much TV.

11:21-- Blinds are 200/400. I've got 4215. Getting ugly.

11:24-- This Greg Raymer vs. Aaron Kanter hand is one of the sickest televised hands I've seen. I was there when it happened. It made me sick then and it makes me sick now.

11:28--And that does it. With an M of 8 (probably a little early, I'll admit) I tried to steal from the button with 55. Ran into QQ in the SB. That'll do it.

How about this? If you promise not to tell me how bad this sucked, I promise to never, ever do it again. Deal?

This is a true story.

John was not his real name, but certain matters of legality and discretion preclude revealing his real identity.

There would be a moment that John would be sure he was fine, that every decision would be perfect. He had a monster stack of chips and found pocket queens in the small blind. A well-known pro sat in the cutoff and came in for a standard raise, at the time to 24,000. John figured bumping it to 90,000 would do the trick. It did not. The pro came over the top all-in.

Queens, despite their royalty, look decidedly and appropriately emasculated when you send them into battle for every one of your tournament chips. And in this case, the final table was just a few eliminations away.

It was a decision so tournament-threatening that John had forgotten about another decision he'd made before the final table looked so close.

***

Fatigue is hard to battle at the poker table. You can buy the dollar-a-minute massage. That might help. Or it might put you to sleep. A beer could do the same thing and chances are your concentration will wane. Coffee could do the trick, but it wrecks your stomach and sends you to the john every twenty minutes.

Our John was in the middle of a physical slide. His concentration and stamina were waning. The tournament's money seemed so far away and the chips seemed so hard to come by. What's more, the tableside waiters seemed to have gone on a permanent smoke break.

John, a young man, had picked up a covey of raibirds in the last day. He didn't know them. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know them. But there they were, watching his every move, studying his play, and then waiting to analyze it during the breaks.

The breaks. God, what John would've done for a break. He wasn't sure how he felt about the railbirds, but he knew he would kill for a shot of some mainline caffeine. Finally, when the break still seemed an eon away, John broke down and asked one of his new railbirds if he would mind running to the bar for him.

"Could you get me a Red Bull?" he asked.

Some railbirds are more like gnats. They are always there, you can't shoo them away, and all they really want is one sip of your sweat. This railbird was a gnat.

"Red Bull? Sure. I'll go get it...for a tenth of a percent of you."

Jesus. Fucking gnats.

Fatigue can play M.C. Escher tricks on your mind. Suddenly, the gnats can seem like ants. And ants are workers, right? And, damn, if John were to cash, a tenth of one percent didn't seem like that bad a deal. A tenth of a percent of ten grand would only be ten bucks, about the price of the Red Bull with tip anyway.

And so John sent his little worker ant to the bar for a Red Bull. Thirty minutes later, the fatigue had disappeared and John was back into the game.

***

Two days of decisions and concentration followed and brought John to the question of whether to put his entire tournament on the line with his pair of queens.

He stood from his chair and put his back to the table for one whole second. Then he turned around and announced, "I call."

The well-known pro's face fell. He turned over pocket tens, knowing he was well behind. He would stay that way. The queens held up.

Less than 24 hours later, John was at the final table. Less than five hours later, he stood up from his seat for the final time. He was the last person to stand up, because he had won the whole damned thing...for a million bucks.

And somewhere on the rail, the gnat was working his mental calculator. One tenth of one percent of a million bucks was...$1,000.

John not only had the distinction of being the champion. He was also the man that had downed the most expensive Red Bull of all time.

Note: I'm in the middle of an experiment that has taken me out of my normal poker playing routine. In the interim, I'm pretending to be The Poker Nerd and Drizz. More than anything, though, this means I'm learning new stuff about life and poker and how they fit together. In short, I'm trying to get my head on straight. So, the point is, for the next little while you might see a few of these stories that have nothing to do with how I play AK under the gun. Which is probably a good thing.

The World Cup of Poker works like this. You pay 50 Frequent Player Points. You play in a heads up tournament with other people from your home state. If you win, you are on your state team. Then, your state team plays in a round robin tournament with the other states. The top four states play against two Team USA teams (you'll have the chance to qualify for those, as well). The winning team then goes to Barcelona for a live poker event with a $200,000 prize pool.

Yeah. It's free. You don't have to put anything on your friggin' blog. Yeah, it' a longshot, but it's free.

Each state has two qualifiers. The first one ran this weekend. The second runs either tonight or tomorrow night. Here is the Team USA schedule. Find yours and sign up. To register, go to your Stars software, click Events--> World Cup--> USA States.

I mean, after all, you're going to be on Stars tonight for this anyway:

What: WPBT WSOP Satellite #2
When: Monday, April 3rd @ 9PM EST
Where: Poker Stars
Tournament #: 21868191 (see private tourney tab)
Buy-in: $30 +3
Format: NL freezeout
Password: socoshot
Restrictions: Bloggers only

Have fun, folks. I'll be sweating you from my gainfully employed and hence excluded rail.

I know that the past two months have been full of cash game swings I couldn't even bring myself to write about. They were obscene in both the positive and negative. Those closest to me heard me ramble, usually after a few drinks, about the two huge sessions I had at $50/$100 in December and January. Fewer people heard about the late January massacre. And no one had heard about how March had started in a way that made me think about giving up the game. I was keeping it to myself. I was sneaking five minute reads of "Shut Up and Deal" because, when I'm losing, Jesse May gets my head on straight.

And yet, despite the cash game swings, despite three bloody attempts to take a shot at $100/$200, there was a nagging optimism somewhere around my medula oblongata. It started a couple of weeks ago when I made it deep into a $1 million guaranteed event. For more than an hour I played with Gavin Griffin, Carl Olson, Matt Matros, and Stuart "The Donator" Patterson. The table was brutal. Griffin finally dealt me my death blow and sent me out in 43rd place. (Edit: In fact, I went back and checked my records, this was a Sunday event, not the $1 million guaranteed. It was a 43rd place out of mor than 3000 entrants. The previous day, I had cashed in the $1 million guaranteed).

And the tournament game continued to succeed. Something inside my noodle was working right. I was seeing things much too clearly for my success to be nothing more than a fluke. In fact, on two consecutive nights, I final tabled an ever-loving PLO8 tournament (which anyone will tell you, is a game at which I blow much sack). Sure, I was having my fair share of good luck. Still, I admitted to myself, that something more than luck was going on.

More than anything, I was able to admit the mistakes I was making that were sending me out of tournaments, in the money, but out of the big money. When I finally busted out of any tournament, I could look back and identify the mistake I made the sent me to the rail. Even if I lost on a bad suckout, I could admit that I had done something leading up to that moment that led to me being in a position where I could lose.

And still, the March cash game massacre continued. At one point, just Thursday night, I was on the verge of a full-scale cashout. I was on the verge of giving it all up until this summer. I wasn't playing a good cash game. Sure, there were a lot of bad beats, but there was a lot of bad play on my part as well. I found myself wanting to get even and that is never a good thing.

And so it happened that Friday was a workday so full that I spent ten straight hours pounding on my keyboard, knowing very well that I leave for Monte Carlo in two days. I knew that I was about to be forced to take break, regardless of whether I wanted to.

Already planning to spend all of Saturday with the family, I knew I had one more chance to get somewhere in the neighborhood of even. And so, I entered the $200 NL Hold'em event with more than 1000 other people. Four hours later, I entered a silly $100 PLO8 event with around 70 people.

I wish I could tell you what happened over that eight hour period. I wish I could recount a full hand history for you. I wish I had the energy right now to tell you what brought CJ to pull out the "You can dodge bullets, baby" line.

All I can tell you is that I chopped the PLO8 event five ways for a modest profit.

Oh, and I can tell you that just about half an hour ago, I chopped the other tournament four ways, taking better than second place money. In short, it makes up my biggest cash to date.

In the grand scheme of things, it means precious little. It's not been six hours since I was wiping my tear ducts with Jesse May's words. It's not been 24 hours since I told msyelf that there is a much greater life than I can find under two hole cards. It's not been five seconds since I admitted to myself that I could lose it all back with a few bad sessions in the cash games.

And yet, it has been nearly a year since I saw The Guy and realized I could play tournament poker. That guy seems to be back.

I like The Guy and I hope he stays around for a while.

Dead Last

It was the $50,000 quarterly tournament at what was once my favorite live poker room. There were 120 players who each ponied up $460. It wasn't my favorite structure, however, since we started with T10,000 and blinds at 100/200. The regular Saturday tournament is much better.

I got my seat assignment and told myself I'd tried to wait for big starting hands in the first level and play them hard. I wanted to make som chips early so the blinds didn't start to hurt me.

Three hands in, it happened.

UTG limps and UTG+1 does as well. I peek down at two black Q's. The Hilton Sisters. Two dirty bitches. I pop it to T1000. It's folded around to UTG who smooth calls. Curious. We're heads up.

The flop is 852 rainbow. Hard to ask for a better flop that doesn't include a Q. UTG checks and I bet the pot, T2500. He smooth calls. I suppose I should have worried about something here, but what am I supposed to put the limper on at this point? It's possible, I suppose that he flopped a set, but I didn't get that read.

The turn is a 7, a second spade. If the guy called my preflop raise with 46 or 69, so bet it. Send me home. The guy checks again and I have T6500 in front of me with a T7500 pot. If he was playing something like A8 of spades, I've got to make it expensive for him. And if he's playing 99, TT or JJ, I'll be taking all his chips. Hard to put a limper on AA or KK. What's the play?

If I check behind him, he gets a free river and an invitation to push on the river. If I bet anything at all, I've committed my entire stack. I decided to push. He quickly called and flipped KK.

Cowboys. He limped UTG on the third hand with KK and cold-called my raise. The river was a 4. I'm just not sure what I do different on the hand. Am I really suppsoe to play scared with a big overpair and a relatively uncoordinated board?

I'm out, in dead last.

Craps Tilt

I couldn't go back to a poker table, so I headed to the Craps table instead. Thankfully, the dice were very cold with a lot of 4 and 10 points and I cashed out up a hundred bucks (I bet wrong, remember).

That helped me get rid of the tilt. I got some chicken fingers and fries for lunch and headed back to get my name on the No Limit list. I couldn't go out like that.

Big Hands? What Big Hands?

The table was a nice mix of bad players, rocks and maniacs. I had them read pretty quickly, that just meant I needed to get the right hand at the right time to make it pay off.

KK: I raise to 20 preflop and win the blinds.
AA: I raise to 20 preflop and got FOUR CALLERS. The flop comes down 44K and a pretty bad player who bets at EVERY flop bets $25. I raise to $75 and he pushes for $500 more. I fold. He shows Ace-fuckin'-four.
JJ: I raise to 20 preflop and win the blinds.
QQ: It's min raised to 10 in front of me and I re-raise to 30 and get two callers. The flop is 762. The tight player who raised to 10 pushes for her last 95. I call. She flips AA. I wasn't shocked, but getting coolered continues to suck.

I never made a flush and I never hit a set on the flop. The only big hand I hit was the HAMMER. I had just busted when my AT went down to A3 against the table maniac when he hit his miracle 3 on the river. I rebought and saw the HAMMER. I played it but was forced to fold to a bet and raise on a flop that missed me.

The next hand, it's the HAMMER again and I raise this time and get two callers. The flop is K82. There's a modest bet in front of me, a call, and I call. The turn is a 7. A short stack pushes, I push and I get called. It's J-high flush draw vs. Q-high flush draw vs. my two pair. The river deuce boats me and I win a $700 pot. I get the HAMMER again the third hand in a row and call a very short stacks all in and just miss hitting the wheel.

In the end, I finished down almost a buy-in at the NL table. It wasn't pleasant.

Tomahawk Chop

I guess it's more irony that a chop would play such a big role at a casino on an Indian Reservation.

I decided to try my hand at a single table satellite into the big $1080 tournament in May. It cost $115 and it paid out one seat. The structure was terrible. T1200 to start, 100/200 blinds, 15 min levels, blinds double every time. Of course, that's pretty damn close to pool table poker, so I was prepared.

I played my cards perfectly and got down to four handed. That's when I got QQ again. Ugh. I raised to T1200, almost half my stack and got called by a shorter stack who left just T650 behind. The flop was A66. Just my damn luck. I didn't have much choice, though, so I pushed. He angrily folded KK face up. Um... okay...

He went out a few hands later and then I busted third place to get heads up. The other guy had me slightly outchipped, but I still suggested a $100 save for second place. He had no idea what I was talking about so I dropped it. I was pretty confident, although the blinds (400/800 when we started heads up with stacks around T6000) worried me.

I quickly took the chip lead and we got all in, my A7 vs. his A6. According to the hand analyzer, I win that 49% of the time. The flop was 852. I'm now 70% to win my seat. The turn 2 and the river A sealed the chop, however, and the game wasn't over.

The very next hand I get A8 and run into AT. Was there a chop for me? Of course not. The donkey doubles up and has a T700 chip lead over me. The next hand I'm in the BB of T1600 but get 85o. He raises and I fold. I'm in trouble now in the SB when I get JTd. I push and get called... by KJo. There was no luckboxing and I'm out.

There's only one place that's a worse finish than last... and that's the last one to win nothing. The bubble. I was on severe tilt at this point, and, thankfully, managed to make my way from the Casino without losing anything else.

It was a massacre.

7:09pm: 58 people are entered. It's shaping up to be a nice field. The 2-hour American Idol has started, but no one has sung yet. My dinner is about ready, so I'm going to eat. I'll return to live-blogging when I'm finished with that. Please stand by...

7:21pm: Done eating (I eat fast). Two performances down. The first was good, but I don't think she'll be around for the long run. The second was just okay, but she's a cute bubbly blonde, so she's not in danger right now. G-Rob weighs in on girly IM thing:

G-Rob: first idol contestant good
G-Rob: second, the blond, lousy

7:23pm: 74 entrants with 7 minutes left to enter.

7:25pm: Hot twin is singing on Idol. I won't reprint what G-Rob had to say. She's safe for a week. Being really hot helps.

7:29pm: Tables are set. I got Wes (aka Boobie Lover) on my right. Wil gets G-Rob and Facty at his table.

7:30pm: Cards are in the air! I'm limping with A4o from the button. That's weak. I fold to a raise on a J77 flop.

7:31pm: Wil's playing awfully weak... hasn't seen a flop yet. Get in the game!!

7:32pm: Wil plays a hand from the button. I'm guessing KJ and catches a K-high flop. His post flop bet takes the pot.

7:35pm: I raise to 3xBB with KTs and Wes calls right behind me. Ugh. Two more callers but the flop is TT8. Yee haw! I check raise from 100 to 450. They fold. T1870.

7:37pm: Latest American Idol singer continues the uninspiring string. BG weighs in with a comment on the relative attractiveness of 6-foot 17-year old American Idol contestants. I will not repeat it.

7:39pm: Wil does a resteal and gets called by the SB. Uh oh. SB leads out on a 975 flop. And wil lays it down. I'm guessing he wanted to win that preflop. His opponent shows AJo. I'm guessing that was a better hand than wil had. T1280 for Mr. Wheaton. (wil comments: I had a smaller ace there. grrr)

7:41pm: The daughter of a famous singer is up now on AI. G-Rob says she's the best of the bunch. She's singing Midnight Train to Georgia. It's pretty good, she's got some performer in her, that's for sure.

7:44pm: G-Rob busts out at wil's table 99 vs. AA. Wil undeclares war on G-Rob. Now G-Rob can focus on American Idol.

7:46pm: Haven't seen a playable hand since that KT. Kinda card dead here.

7:48pm: wil re-raises from late position and gets called. Flop comes down A-high and his opponent bets less than half the pot. wil folds his QQ or KK.

7:49pm: I have KTs again and I raise preflop. Only Obie calls. Flop is Q9x. I bet out 3/4 pot and Obie folds. T1920 for me, T925 for wil.

7:52pm: Opera girl is singing. BG thinks she's the lost Gilmore Girl (not that I've ever heard of that show... of course). Oh, missed it, but wil won a little pot to get back to T1030. This girl is terrible... missing all the notes.

7:53pm: wil is moved to my table, that makes things easier.

7:54pm: wil drops the suited JackHammer in my honor and takes a nice pot post-flop. Nice one, man!

7:55pm: Simon breaks out his first "complete and utter mess." This Gilmore Girl is done for.

7:57pm: Wes limps from the SB and wil raises to 3xBB. Wes re-raises and wil calls. Flop is K99 and Wes bets 3/4 pot. I don't think wil hit this. He folds. Wes shows 87... wil says he had AJ. Ouch.

7:59pm: There's an all in at my table 99 vs. QQ and guess what comes on the turn? That's right. That's what happens when there's a luckbox at your table.

8:01pm: Blinds are up to 25/50 and I've played just two hands, KTs... both times. I'd love to see a hand here or there.

8:02pm: AI's first diva takes the stage. This bitch won't last 4 weeks. She's singing Stevie Wonder. Real weak start... not sure it's gotten better. Probably alive this week, but not much longer.

8:04pm: wil is out. He put all his chips in the middle with an under-pair and an open-ended straight draw. He got called by AJ which caught an Ace on the river. Rough way to go. The guy called with 2-overs and an open-ended straight draw. Wil was 66% on the flop and 84% on the turn.

8:06pm: I have KTs again and I raise again. I get one caller and the flop is 9-high. I bet out at it and he folds. I'm at T2235.

8:09pm: I raise with A9s. Flop misses me and this time I check. I know Wes is expecting the continuation bet. Board comes no where near me and I don't waste any chips. Wes bets the river. I fold.

8:12pm: I get to check my 95o in the BB and the flop comes down AK5. I lead out with a pot-sized bet and they fold. T2135.

8:13pm: I raise to T250 with KJs and Wes comes over the top all-in. Jackass. Probably has the HAMMER. I fold.

8:14pm: Another blonde on AI. When is someone gonna break out a good performance? Great rack... not much of a voice.

8:15pm: Dammit. Lost a chunk of chips when some guy with 87 caught his third 7 on the river. I guess I could have played that better. T1535.

8:18pm: KK vs. KK at my table but flop is all clubs! Thankfully it stays a chop. That'd be a brutal way to go.

8:20pm: I'm not sure I've ever gone so long in a tourney with no pocket pairs and no Ace higher than a nine. Ugly, ugly cards. Thank goodness for KTs.

8:23pm: I call a min-raise from the BB with T7o and miss. I hate laying down the BB to a min-raise.

8:24pm: BG's favorite Melissa McGhee is up. She's a 21-year old from Florida... and quite curvy. Um... wow she looked good in Hollywood. It's a shame she didn't wear something that better accentuated her assets!

8:25pm: KJo wins the blinds.

8:27pm: Ooooooh... AKs!!! And I win just the blinds. Dammit.

8:30pm: I'm hoping we get a good AI performance here. Been awhile. And it's break time at the WWdN. I'm mired at T1285. Moving time after the break, that's for sure! I'm no expert at singing... but it feels like she's missing notes. Maybe not. Really strong finish, that always helps.

8:36pm: And I'm out. First hand after the break and I saw my first pocket pair. I'm in the BB and Wes raises to 3x. Some guy I don't know smooth calls, so I know he has a hand. I hope my all in (3x their bet) is enough to get them to lay it down. It's not and I'm called by AKo. K on the flop. A on the turn. K on the river. 47th place. It's frustrating not seeing cards. Oh well.

Live-blog over! I hope you enjoyed it.

7:18pm: If you remember, I gave up poker for a week in the last post. So what the hell am I doing in this? I'm a degenerate, go figure.

7:22pm: 100 people in this thing??? That's crazy!

7:29pm: I don't know anyone at my table. Good start!

7:33pm: Playing the JackHammer. Called a raise preflop... completely missed. No luckbox action.

7:36pm: Eating, playing and live-blogging is hard. I may take a short blogging break.

7:40pm: Dinner over. While I was gone, I played the Hammer to a raise UTG. The BB called me. The flop came KQT. He checked, I bet T150. He raised all in. Damn Hammer. No luckbox action tonight.

7:42pm: Sure, when I get a real hand (AQs), every folds to me preflop raise. Bastards. All of them. Jaxia stopped by to say "Nice bet ;)" Thanks ;-)

7:44pm: First preflop all-in at my table: A4o vs. A2s... and, predictably, it was a split pot. A4o and A2s????

7:45pm: "Up4Poker: any bloggers at the table?" Met by silence.

7:46pm: Mr. A4o is all in again with KJ and he's called by JJ. The flop dropped a K. I guess I'm glad he has more chips. Don't want to see him get busted by anyone but me.

7:47pm: I'm down to T1080 thanks to the blinds and playing two hands: The Hammer and the JackHammer. I'm dumb.

7:48pm: AJd. Flop is 863. My continuation bet is called by a guy with a gutshot. I hate poker. T845.

RogueCK: stupid play from me - I know better than that :/

7:53pm: All in 44 vs. AK. Mr. A4o didn't make it this time, though, when a K hit the turn. One down at my table. Obie has arrived. At least I recognize him.

7:55pm: KQs and I raise from the SB, only the BB sticks around. Mr. Gutshot from earlier. The flop is A42, only one of my suit. I don't have the stack to continuation bet, and Mr. Gutshot doesn't respect it anyway. I check and fold. I'm at T695.

7:57pm: Mr. Gutshot has a big stack now that his Hammer rivered a straight against KK. Guess my luckbox skills have moved to the seat to my right.

8:01pm: I just told wil how much this liveblogging sucks. He's down to just 705, but can still double me up.

8:02pm: Obie's 22 falls to QQ and he's out. Now I'm at a new table and I recognize... no one. Weird.

8:04pm: SoxLover just informed me his wife is at my table. He doesn't want me to suck out on her. I guess that's being a good husband.

8:05pm: Wow, these cards suck. No pocket pair yet and AQs and AJs once each. Brutal. T645 now.

8:06pm: mrpants13 is eliminated when his two pair falls to a set of 6's. The anti-Christ makes an appearance.

8:08pm: I suck. I just called a min-raise from the SB with QJd. Why? T495

8:09pm: A familiar face arrives! It's Joanne. She kills me in tourneys. I predict she will bust me.

8:10pm: Ouch. Gweneb lau busts when her Rockets are cracked by AK. K on the flop, K on the turn.

8:11pm: And I'm out. I'm in the BB and it's folded all the way around to the SB who makes a steal. I re-raise all in to 495 and he calls. I have A4o, he has Q7o. The flop is no help to anyone. The turn pairs my 4 but gives him a flush draw. The river is a red seven, and I'm out. In 94th. And that's why I won't play anymore poker until Saturday.

8:15pm: Jaxia is in 17th place right now. GRob is 31st. BadBlood is 87th of 87. And wil is 75th. Jaxia is my horse in this one! I have a good feeling about her game!

8:20pm: The table respects Jaxia's UTG raise and lays down. Wish I could get that kind of respect. Then she takes down a nice pot with A2o when an Ace flops. She's up to T3375.

8:21pm: She's on a rush! Another pot won with American Airlines!
T4075 and 11th place. GRob is at T3000.

8:24pm: wil is all in with AJo. He's called by QQ and the board is no help at all. wil is out in 79th place. Sabboth gets the honor of naming next week's event.

8:27pm: A4s sucks out on Jaxia's AQs and she's back down to T3105.

8:30pm: GRob is at it again...

SERNE: GL, im working on robman
GRobman: problem is...i'm better at poker
GRobman: than serne
GRobman: i INVENTED it

8:31pm: Break time! Chip Check! Joanne is 5th with T4890. Sir Waffle is 8th with T4520. GRob is 15th at T3550. Jaxia is 21st at T3105. Helixx is 28th at T2535. Alan is 29th at T2505. Iggy is 37th at T2225. BG is 4nd at T2120. BadBlood is 47th at T1770. Falstaff is 55th at T1283. Shane is 61st at T1125. Chad is 67th at T875. Gracie is 71st at T740.

8:37pm: Gracie doubles up with KT vs. 44.

8:38pm: Falstaff is out when his 99 falls to KK. All undercards on the flop sucked him in.

8:40pm: Jaxia is at a new table but has a huge stack to her right (it's Garthmeister).

8:43pm: An ace on the river gives Jaxia broadway and she wins a nice little pot.

8:45pm: GRob is all in on a flop of 532. SERNE folds. GRob doesn't show. "had me there serne a chance to knock me out"

8:48pm: Iggy raises to T450, owentgs raises all in, Jaxia pushes all in with KK. Iggy folds, owentgs flips AKo. The river brings broadway and owentgs doubles through Jaxia. I hate poker.

8:50pm: BG drops the Hammer.

8:52pm: GRob and BG at the same table is a bad idea.

GRobman: i want to be BG when i grow up
HeyKidsItsBG: well, you'll have to start on my chronic masturbation regimen
GRobman: still every 20 minutes?
HeyKidsItsBG: i've stretched it to 25, but i'm going longer while i'm doing it
HeyKidsItsBG: so it's a wash

8:54pm: Jaxia is down to T1310 after that brutal beat, it's push or fold for her now.

8:58pm: Jaxia makes her play out of the SB with QTo, but runs into AA in the BB. The flop is 888 and Garth takes her out in 50th. Bastard!

9:01pm: GRobman is telling the "Driving me nuts" joke. You'll have to ask him.

9:02pm: Iggy calls it the kiddie table as he joins GRob, BG and Wes the Boobie Lover (not the Big Pirate).

9:03pm: GRob inexplicably pushes all in with 2nd pair (AQ) and runs into a flopped set of Kings. He's out in 45th.

9:06pm: Garth's KK loses to AT when Sabboth rivers two pair. This game is ugly. Online poker is rigged.

9:08pm: Ouch. KK is dead now. BG loses with it vs. 66 and he's out in 41st.

9:11pm: We're playing microlimit. My 75o crushered wil's 83o, I'm up 20 cents!!!

9:17pm: tajeric's KK goes down to pocket 8's. Dems Quads Beetches.

9:19pm: JJ and TT back to back at the donkey table. TT doubles me up.

9:22pm: JTs flops a flush and I double through Serne in consecutive hands. Donkey poker rules.

9:24pm: I lay down my K3 of clubs to a hammer flop and a bet from wil. He had AJ of clubs.

Wil Wheaton: I had you CRUSHERED

9:25pm: Four recognizable bloggers left in the tourney: Shane, Iggy, Wes and Helixx (in last).

9:27pm: KK is no better at the donkey table as it falls to QJ. Ouch. wil believes it's his fault. I'm willing to agree.

9:33pm: I'm up from $4 to $19.05 at the donkey table. At least I paid for my WWdN entry!

9:34pm: Iggy is in trouble. And his JJ fals to AQ. He's out in 23rd place.

9:35pm: Three familiar bloggers left. Shane in 6th, Wes in 10th, Helixx in 19th. 22 remain.

9:43pm: I'm playing two donkey tables, watching the WWdN, live-blogging and chatting on the girly thingy. It's hard.

9:45pm: Helixx goes out when his 44 is called by A5s and an A hits the turn. Bubble time.

9:48pm: Three way all in at the donkey table. I'm KK, Jaxia is JJ and Falstaff is 66 (!?). KK flops set and holds up. I rock the donkey tables.

9:57pm: We're down to 15 and Shane is in 14th. Wes is in 11th. I don't recognize anyone else.

10:03pm: Shane is out in 14th when his A9 lost to AK. It was a good run.

10:09pm: My night at the tables is over. Jaxia got up, and when the hot woman leaves, so do I. I made $12.45 at the donkey tables so I made my WWdN buy-in back. Now I can leave the tables until Saturday. See ya then!

I barely made it before Noon, thanks to having to stop for gas. And thanks to the hit my bankroll took last week, I had to hit the ATM to cover the $230 buy-in. When I got to the cage, I was crushed to see an alternate list. I got my name on 3rd. I didn't want to play a cash game. I came for the tourney and the open face roast beef sandwich.

Of course, this story would be rather boring had I not made it into the tourney. When they got enough alternates, they opened a 10th table, and it filled up giving us 100 players to start.

I'll remind you why I love this tourney: T8000 to start, 25/50 starting blinds, 30 minute levels. For a little casino poker room, you're hard pressed to find a better structure.

I sized up my table and pegged myself as the best player at the table. There was one 20-something guy with sunglasses on his hat that I thought might be okay. There was an old guy who looked like a grinder that was probably pretty solid. I didn't consider anyone else to be a threat, especially the guy sporting the sunglasses/radio combo.

It took exactly two hands to pick out the worst player at the table. When he called a guy down with JT and no pair and now draw, just to catch the J on the river, I knew he was a guy I wanted to get into a pot with.

Flying American Airlines

It happened when I got my first rockets about 6 hands into the tourney. I nearly went home here.

I raised it up to T250 (5xBB) because there were already a few limpers in front of me, and I didn't want to play against any more than two players. Four people called my bet. "I appreciate the respect," I told the table.

The flop was T87 rainbow. Ugh. It's checked to me, and I severely overbet the pot, throwing out T2000. I wanted to crush the draws. I got three callers. THREE CALLERS!!!!.

The turn was a K. At the time, I thought it might be a bad card for me. Remember, American Airlines is just a pair. And when you've got three people calling you down, there's a wide range of hands they could be holding.

It's checked to me again and I push all in. I decided I was likely still ahead at this point and I wanted someone to risk every chip they had to hit their straight draw.

The woman at the table folded, reluctantly. The JT calling station through the rest of his chips in. "I can't believe some donkey is going to cripple me," I thought. The 20-something guy I was a little worried about laid his hand down, saying he would have called if the donkey had folded. Both he and the woman said they held a 9 for the open-ended straight draw.

The donkey flipped K4. That's right, K4. He called a T2000 turn bet with an overcard, and hit it on the turn. He must have felt like he won the lottery, until he saw my Aces. The river was a 6, which would have completed the straights. Instead, I had a huge stack in front of me, and I had the donkey's chips.

My second pair of rockets came in the third level (100/200). A players to my right had just cracked Kings with A5o, inexplicably pushing preflop with a couple thousand chips. The Ace on the flop was very lucky for him. The very next hand, the 20-something guy I thought was solid threw his T4000 into the pot pre-flop. I hadn't realized we were at the desperation level.

I looked down at two black aces and pushed my chips into the middle as well. The woman who laid down the 9 last time was conflicted again. She had gotten a bit shortstacked, but still had plenty to play with at this point. She finally laid down her Big Slick figuring I was on Kings or Aces. She was right.

The guy flipped ATh. There was a K on the flop and a K on the river. My hand held up and the woman had to step away for a smoke break. Twice, she made a good read and the correct decision based on that read, and twice she would have won the hand.

AK is Evil

Does anyone really like this hand? It's probably the most over-played hand in NLHE. I'll give you my donkey-like performance as an example.

There's an UTG limper at the 100/200 level before it gets to me. I have Big Slick on the button and raise it up to T850. The solid old guy who limped re-raises to T2200.

It was a limp, re-raise. Anyone want to give me a read? I think it's on page 1 in "Poker's Easiest Tells to Recognize." If you don't know, the limp, re-raise screams MONSTER!!! Since I loved my hand, and played it too fast, I immediately put him all in. It took him two seconds to call with his Cowboys. Ouch.

When our table broke a few hands later, I was still smarting from that play. I quickly chipped up at the new table, winning the first two hands after I sat down. There was a HUGE stack at our table and I thought he'd be playing loose enough to give me a few chips, but I wanted to avoid any crazy confrontations with him.

I limped with pocket 7's in MP. A player a few seats behind me raised to 4xBB. It's folded back to me. The raise meant I would commit a little more than 10% of my stack. Usually, 10% is the cutoff for me. I was close to folding, but decided I would make the call to see if I could hit my set. I knew the payoff could be big if I did.

J-7-6. That's pretty.

I checked and he checked behind me. The turn was an Ace, which I hoped would be a good card for me. I checked and he bet T3000. I thought for a moment and re-raised to T7000. He quickly called. The river was a blank and I pushed. He called so fast I thought I was beat. I showed my set of 7's and he showed his Big Slick. It's the hand that pushed me toward the chip-leaders.

Before this table broke, I took a nice stack off the big stack when my AJ and his QJ both straighted on the river. I hit broadway, though and won the pot.

Getting Lucky to the Final Table

In case you haven't noticed, there have no bad beat stories so far. I haven't sucked out once. In fact, I haven't even had to race. Every time I got my money into the pot, I was a big favorite. I gotta tell you, it's a much easier way to play the game.

Down to two tables now, I was the chip leader at my table. There were two all-ins in front of me and I was in the SB with A5o. It didn't cost me that much to call and I wanted the chance to knock two players out. The BB also called. I knew he would check them down unless he hit a hand.

The flop was rags, the turn a rag and the river a 5. The BB flipped AJ. The first all-in flipped A9. The second all-in flipped A7. I flipped over the worst hand of the bunch, and took the pot. That was a lovely, and profitable river.

That's all I got. The closest thing to a suckout I'd seen so far.

In the Money!!!!

When we finally busted the last shortstack, it was time to move to the final table. That's where we got paid. Fifth through 10th got $550, and 1st through 4th received 50%-25%-15%-10% of the remaining prize pool.

I got to the final table third in chips, but first and second both had more than twice as many chips as me. In fact, they combined had more than T400,000 of the T800,000 chips in play. I was just hoping they knocked out six players so I could get into the real money.

I didn't play many hands, but it wasn't because I was scared. I didn't see any cards. The dealer made it exceedingly easy on me to fold. The first to go from the final table with the woman who folded to my Aces twice at the first table. We soon lost two others and were down to seven. I was now about 4th in chips, and the blinds were getting ready to hurt me.

Dropping the Hammer and Doubling Up

I'm an idiot. I know that. With 7 players left in the tournament, it's folded to me on the button when I look down at the HAMMER. I hadn't played it all tourney and this was no time to start. Except I raised from T10000 to T30000. The SB folded. The BB had just T37000 and already had T10000 in the pot. I immediately feared my tactical error would cost me. It's not like he could fold. Except he did. And I showed it. The HAMMER. The crowd buzzed and I loved it.

That small stack was out a few hands later.

When we got down to six, there had been three consecutive walks before the BB got to me. I mentioned that I'd appreciate that trend to continue. "But if it doesn't, I defend my Big Blind with a suckout," I told the table.

It's folded all the way around to the SB and as soon as he put his chip on his cards, I knew he was betting. He always stopped as though he was thinking about betting, but when he folded, he never put his chip on his cards.

He raised me up 4xBB. I looked down a KJo. It was decision time. If I fold here, I'm in 5th or 6th in chips. I almost never call with this hand, and didn't even consider it here. That meant fold or raise, and raising meant pushing.

That's exactly what I did, putting my tournament at stake. I'm not sure what I put him on or what chance I gave myself, but I thought there was a slight chance I was ahead, and, at worst, I figured I was in for a race.

"He raised with 7-2 offsuit earlier," I heard a woman say from the rail. I smiled on the inside, while yelling "FOLD!" to my opponent.

He was in the tank and I considered calling for the clock. "Do you have a bigger pocket pair than me?" he asked. My heart sank. I knew there was no way he was laying down a pair. He called and flipped 6's.

It was time for the Luckbox to make an appearance. However, I was 46% to win the hand pre-flop, and, frankly, that's not nearly far enough behind. So when the flop missed me (8-5-2), I felt much better about my chances. Suddently I'm just 24% and, predictably, I found my J on the turn. The river was a blank and I was in great shape. In fact, I had jumped to 2nd in chips.

Finishing It Off

The hand crippled my opponent and he lasted just a few more hands, putting us on the big money bubble. There was a short stack to my left. I tried to put him out once with K9 from the SB. He woke up with A8 from the BB and I didn't see any of my cards. He doubled up.

When the next orbit came around, I went after him once again with JTo. Again, he had a better hand, calling with K8o. This time, however, I found my J on the flop and we were in the big money. It was like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders.

When talk of a deal came, I was put in a tough spot. The chip leader had about T350,000. I had T200,000. Third and fourth each had about T125,000. There was $16700 in the prize pool, so a chip chop at this point would have looked like this:

1st $7306
2nd $4175
3rd and 4th $2609

In the end, we gave first $6000 and the rest of us chopped the rest for $3566. I suppose in 2nd I could have pushed for something closer to the $4000. I think the deal was necessary because the blinds were about to jump again and at T15000/T30000, I would be holding just 6x the BB. The first time I made a bet, I'd be risking almost half my stack. Basically, I gave up $600 to secure myself $3500. I suppose I could have said "No" and tried to win it all, but I was ready to eat!

An open face roast beef sandwich on texas toast with red mashed potatoes later, I was head home with a wealth of confidence headed into next weekend.

1. Play premium hands strong, get paid off.
2. Lay down hands when you're pretty sure you're beat.
3. Don't slow play unless you're positive that next card won't hurt you.
4. Avoid dumb plays (Fancy Play Syndrome is generally wrong).
5. Suckout at least once.
6. Survive a suckout at least once.
7. Win a couple coin flips.
8. Avoid big stacks late.
9. Avoid desperate stacks late unless you have a strong idea you can bust them.
10. Get lucky.

I don't think I'm breaking any new ground here. Tonight I played in four MTT's and didn't cash in any. And I busted out of all of them in similar fashion. One time, I decided to believe a player didn't have a Q with two on the board. I had plenty of chips to work with at that point. Another, I miraculously tripled up late with AA and then donked everything away a few hands later when I get married to A9s and called a raise for all my chips. I called a raise with A9s. Naturally, he turned over AKs and flushed. I had plenty of chips to wait for a better spot, but didn't

I played anxious and impatient tonight, and it cost me. I think a losing night after some remarkable days helps bring into focus what I was doing right.

Tournaments are about the long term (in a short term sense). It's about folding a lot and selective aggression. I think I read that somewhere. You have to get paid off on your big hands. You have to steal a few pots when your premium hands miss the pot. You have to steal a few blinds.

Oh, and another thing, table image doesn't matter. Really, 99% of the players in the tournaments are spending absolutely no time thinking about how I played that big hand last time. They probably don't know that I generally raise between 3 and 4.5 times the big blind. They don't know because they aren't worried about my table image. The tournament moves quickly and players are bounced around enough that table image is highly overrated in online tournaments.

Addendum: Sometimes you just lose. You don't play bad. You just lose. Sometimes, KK runs into AA. Sometimes AA runs into KK and a K on the flop. Sometimes your flush gets rivered by a boat. Sometimes your boat gets rivered by quads. Unless you decided to never get into a pot against a stack bigger than yours, these things are going to happen. That's just the way it is.

So, take it for what it's worth. This is just the poker blogosphere's resident luckbox speaking. Thoughts from a professional sucker outer. Of course, until you can master that, you should probably ignore the rest of my advice.

Coming soon: CJ's Guide to Sucking Out.

First, it was the $5500 Guarantee at Ultimate Bet (I'm cusephenom):

Then I jumped in the Full Tilt Poker $50K Guarantee. Unfortunately, Kent was sucked out on just before the final table, but I barely made it:

And after a few people were knocked out, my KJ failed to catch, and I was done:

That's more than $7000 this weekend. It will never happen again, but it's been fun!

I backup my blind steals with suckouts.

I did warn them. Those were my words. I was under no pretense that I was anywhere in the class of the bloggers with whom I was sitting down.

31 of the top bloggers played and just two would earn the coveted seats into the Bill Rini Vegas shootout. At the end of three weeks, that meant six players would play in a winner-take-all format for about a thousands bucks.

How do I suck out on thee... let me count the ways.

Sometimes the best cards win, and sometimes you face a donkey with a cock as his avatar. He was an angry cock, though, I made sure of that. You see, cockfighting is legal down here in Leezy-anna, and mine was wearing spurs.

The game started innocently enough. My first table was packed with the blogging elite. It was a Murderer's Row of bloggers better than me.

#1: Sorry Maudie

Tomorrow, I will join the crowd at Full Tilt for Rini's roundup. I am eager, I am breathless in anticipation, nay, I am -- dare I say it -- creaming to see what level of bad beat will be exacted to knock me out of Sunday's tournament.

Those were Maudie's words yesterday on her blog. It seems as though she's on a particularly bad Drizz-like tourney run. I did nothing to alleviate her problems.

I'm dealt pocket 4's in early position and I limp. No one raises and the flop comes down 8-3-2. Just one overcard and I'm liking my hand. Frankly, I can't really remember the action, but I think Maudie had a bet about 2/3 of the pot. I put her on two overcards figuring it was a continuation bet. I called. I guess if I thought I was really ahead I could have raised, but I wanted to see a four.

The turn was another 3. In my mind, it didn't help her. I lead out this time trying to represent the 3. I think. Maudie called, and the river was a 4 giving me the boat. I pushed and Maudie couldn't help but call if she put me on overcards, too. She had 55. I hit my two outer, and Maudie was out a few hands later when my Ace outkicked hers.

Donkey 1, Bloggers 0

#2 Sorry Pauly

Pauly tried a blind steal from the button with JTo. I had the suited JackHammer, and a pretty big stack, so I wasn't laying this one down. I called, and a flop of x-4-4 gave me a monster. Pauly bluffed at it for his whole stack figuring there's no way I called his raise with a hand that bad. I did. And Pauly was out. The JackHammer lives.

Donkey 2, Bloggers 0

#3 Sorry Easy Cure

My memory is getting really fuzzy here, but I believe I made a blind steal attempt with K2o. EZ came back at me all in. I announced I was going to suckout on him, and The Poker Geek, for that matter, who was all in with his blind. With the suckout proclamation there, I pressed the call button. (Tennessee Jason has proclaimed it the "worst call ever." So much so he was compelled to write about a hand he wasn't involved in and then call it bullshit! Wow.)

K2o vs. the Geeks 86o and EZ's 99.

The flop and the river both brought K's.

Donkey 3, Bloggers 0

The Final Table

To say I was scared out of my mind was an understatement.

1s: CJ
2s: BG
3s: -EV
4s: Royal
5s: Bill
6s: Gracie
7s: Kent
8s: Head
9s: Hank

I was the chip leader, but that didn't mean much at this table!

#4 Sorry Kent

This was the first of my big races at the final table. I had just folded to a re-raise by Hank, he was bullying me pretty good. I didn't like it. The next hand, Kent makes a standard 3x raise with KQo and I raise him virtually all in with 99. Someone said it was a steam bet.

Kent thought for a moment, saying he suddenly didn't like his hand anymore. If I was AK or AQ, he was way behind. I wanted him to fold. He called, and luckily for me, he missed.

Up For Poker 1, LA Bloggers 0

#5 Sorry Bill Bah, I owed you one!

Before the final table, Bill got moved to my table one seat to my left. I told him that I back up my blind steals with suckouts. He considered himself warned.

With 6 left, I looked down at the suited JackHammer again. I raised UTG and got called by -EV. That's when Bill went all in. I again announced I was going to suckout and called, reluctantly. Kevin thought for a while and reluctantly folded. Bill flipped over a big hand, AJ, I think, and had me dominated.

The flop was harmless, low cards that missed me, and only one diamond. The turn was another diamond. And the river gave me the runner-runner flush. It was the worst of the bad beats that I dealt out. Kevin says he folded the nuts, too, AQd, which would make my suckout even worse.

Up For Poker 2, LA Bloggers 0

#6 Sorry Gracie

We're down to five and I'm in the BB with 82o. Gracie makes a min-raise from late position and it's folded to me. With the antes in the pot and my huge stack, I can't help but call. The flop comes down 8-high, I think. I check, Gracie bets, and I put her all in. She has to call with her overcards, but misses. Another fortunate hand for me.

#7 Sorry Hank

This was my second big race of the final table. Hank had been bullying me since he sat down to my right. We were one-two in chip stacks for much of the time until he lost a huge part of his stack to Royal.

This time, he raised from the button, I think, and I pushed him all-in with pocket 10s from the small blind. Kevin folded and Hank showed A5o. The Ace never came.

Up For Poker 3, LA Bloggers 0

#8 Sorry Royal

Actually, this thing would have been practically over earlier, except I lost a race with Royal. I think it was 88 vs. A9 and Royal caught his 9 on the river. (Correction, as Kevin tells us in the comments, this lost race was against him, not Royal.)

When we got down to three, I found JJ. Royal raised from the button and I put him all in from the SB. Kevin folded and Royal called with KQ. Once again, my pocket pair held up and that was that.

I'm STILL shocked

Kevin and I had secured our seats in the shootout. The next hand I got Big Slick suited and Kevin got Presto. The hand didn't matter much, but there's a good chance we would have gotten all our money in the pot either way. I caught a K on the flop and it was really all over.

I really want to thank all the railbirds who cheered me on until the end. It was a blast!

This time, I'm not quite as disappointed because my opponent had me 5-1 heads up. I got close with some well-time aggression, but fell short in the end.

Still, not a bad ROI on a $30 rebuy. Oh, for those who wonder about that kind of thing, I used the rebuy trick twice and took the add-on, never once hitting zero in chips.

Round 1
Game 1: CJ and Heather defeat Matt and Meghan, three games to one
Game 2: Bob and Otis defeat Drizz and BG, three games to two
Game 3: Lefty and Jason defeat Maudie and Daddy (The Donkey Fletchers), three games to zero
Game 4: GRob and Uncle Ted defeat Jim and Drizz, three games to one

Round 2:
CJ and Heather vs. Bob and Otis
Lefty and Jason vs. GRob and Uncle Ted

I think it's safe to say that Up For Poker owns Euchre.

The Hammer and the Jackhammer

The first interesting hand of the night came on hand #4. Adam raised UTG and got two callers before it got back to me. I threw out a big re-raise with my Hiltons. Frankly, I didn't want to see any callers. We know what kind of a bitch the Hiltons can be. Thankfully, they all laid them down, including Adam, who sheepishly showed his UTG raising hand: The HAMMER.

Just a few hands later, I take my first shot at Heather. She talks a big game, but she doesn't scare me. I look down at my favorite hand, the Jackhammer, and throw out my standard raise. Heather calls on the button (which she did to me every damn time!). The flop missed me completely, but, when you're holding the Jackhammer, cards just don't matter. I massively overbet the pot and Heather went away. I think I put her on tilt for 49 seconds. At least. And she's still smarting.

UPDATE: From IM chat tonight with Heather...

Heather: actualllly i raised on the button you limped with J4

Heather: i raised with my AW

Heather: AQ - your notes are off

Heather: I remember because you BET INTO THE RAISER

CJ: ah... and you still folded!

Heather: yeah, you pissed me off by betting into my raise and that's what made me think that maybe 2nd pair wasn't good

Heather: and I'd have a shot at you another tme

Heather: and it's "a lot" not "alot" (Heather enjoys proofreading, she had a half dozen more corrections, but I didn't want to bore you.)

Told you she was still smarting!

First quote of the night:

Kimono Bim

Adam to April, giving her her nickname for the night. I suppose seeing the "kimono-like" top would help complete the image. Hmmm... this nickname was a lot funnier at the time.

The Hammer Again?

All I wrote down was, "Scott folded the HAMMER while ahead. Karma will come." I don't want to say that's foreshadowing, but...

Level 2, 15/30 blinds, April and CJ are the chip leaders

8:35 pm: We get our first dial-a-shot, and it's BG and the PokerProf. They toast to the return of the "OC" and to CJ getting drunk. One of those two things will happen over the next few weeks.

The Massive Overbet

There were a few massive overbets this weekend. Many could be attributed to the alcohol, others to the unusual set up of the chips and stacks.

This time, April threw out a massive overbet UTG +1. It was quickly folded around to John, who went into the tank (another theme). He was in the big blind, and as he explains on his own blog, he managed to convince himself that April was holding the HAMMER. He comes over the top all in with his pocket tens, and April quickly calls with Rockets.

John is out in 8th.

The Exposed Nine

Had he waited just a little longer, John likely would have finished 7th. You see, by now, Scott was severely short-stacked, sitting on just T105. When JT came his way, it was the best he'd seen in a long time, and he pushed. April and Adam both called, and Scott miraculously tripled up. A few hands later, Scott found American Airlines and doubled through Heather's 89s.

The end of it all would come when Scott found ATo and pushed once again. Somehow, in the midst of the hand, Heather managed to flip one of her cards, the 9 of diamonds. It didn't seem like that big of a deal until Adam, in the midst of calling the all-in, stopped.

When Adam finally decided to go with his call, we all saw why he reconsidered. He was holding AQ, of diamonds. It didn't matter, however, because Scott never improved. Heather on the other hand, would have tripped up.

Scott is out in 7th.

Level 3, 25/50 blinds, April is the chip leader

9:15 pm: It's dial-a-shot time, and this time, poker's favorite dwarf, Iggy is on the line.

Your Hero's Demise

The biggest difference between a poker blogger table on PokerStars and a poker blogger table in the flesh is the chance to read a player. That doesn't mean I took advantage of that fact, however, as this hand will prove.

I get to see 94o for free out of the BB. I get a piece of the flop when a 4 falls, along with two spades. I throw out a solid bet which Adam quickly calls. Did you see that... he quickly called. I think I remember Phil Gordon telling viewers on Celebrity Poker Showdown that a quick call usually means a draw.

The turn is a 4. I'm tripped. It's also the four of spades. I think you know where this is going. I slyly check my trips. He pushes all in, and I call without taking a moment to think about it. Naturally, he shows K5 of spades and I don't catch my boat. It was, by far, the biggest pot of the night. Adam and I were third and second in chips respectively, and that put Adam at the top of the list, and knocked me down to just T300.

I get my KQs all in against Gus' A7o and the flop doubles me up. I steal a few chips with a naked ace later and I get myself back up over T1000. With blinds still at 25/50, I'm in okay shape.

So when I see 99, I raise to T150. Heather calls on the button. Remember, she does that alot. And she's still smarting from that Jackhammer. She clearly has it out for me, and will draw like a donkey if that's what it takes to knock me out!

The flop is J-x-x, I decide to bet everything on the hunch she doesn't have a Jack. My hunch is pretty bad. She flips over QJo and I don't improve.

CJ is out in 6th.

Second quote of the night

That's the sound of losing.

Gus, following a raise from Kat and about 30 seconds of silence. Gus folds.

C(K)at Scratch Fever

First, she doubles through Adam. He called her preflop raise with JT and caught a piece of the K-T-x flop. When Kat pushed, Adam called and stared down the double barrel of AA. It was just the beginning of her run, and it would mean the end of our Fat Tabby Mama.

April somehow managed to get into a hand with 65o. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say it was a BB special (I'm no Dr. Pauly when it comes to note-taking, besides, Heather brought Sudoku puzzles.) The flop was Q-8-x. Kat played it cool all the way to the river when a 6 fell. April got all her chips in and found out Kat flopped top two pair.

April was out in 5th.

Down Goes Gus

The short stacks were getting short at this point, especially as Adam continued to chip up. This time, it was Gus' turn to take his shot. His A5 caught middle pair on a board of 7-5-3. Little did he know Heather was sitting on wired 9's. The turn and river brought no cards of consequence.

Gus was out in 4th (the bubble).

Third quote of the night

You deal a queen, you're sleeping on the couch.

Kat to Gus

Gus and Scott had taken over the dealing duties from John by now. In this particular hand, Gus had the deck. If you didn't know, Gus and Kat are a lovely couple. At least they were, until this hand.

Kat got all her chips into the pot with Big Slick. Adam couldn't help but call with AQ. He's dominated. At least he was until the flop. Gus peeled off Q-x-x. The K never came. I think they're still together.

Kat was out in 3rd ($48).

Fourth quote of the night

Fuck! I thought I had QJ. Son of a bitch!

Adam

We were heads up between Heather and Adam, and Adam had a rather substantial chip lead. And he used that chip lead to effectively bully his way to an even bigger chip lead. Then it happened.

The flop came down Q-7-5. Heather bet the pot and Adam couldn't push all in fast enough. Heather called and showed her Q8 and top pair. Adam proudly displayed his... JT? He somehow managed to forget his hand, and elected to go all in without checking.

Fifth quote of the night

It's like I pressed the wrong button... but I'm playing live!!!!

Adam, recounting the hand on the phone, moments later

That's right, it was the first live misclick in poker tournament history. We've all hit that wrong button the virtual tables, but Adam one-upped us. The shame of it all is that Adam played really, really well to get to that point, but just handed Heather a chip lead.

Winning Her Own Tournament

It only took a few more hands for it to come to an end. We've all played with the luckbox to know what's coming. Adam got all his money in the pot with QTs and got called by Heather's JTo. The flop produced a Jack, and it was all over.

Adam was out in 2nd ($72)

She dodged HAMMERS and Jackhammers, took advantage of a live misclick, single-handedly eliminated 3 of the 8 players (including our hero) and masterfully moved her way to the top of the chip stack.

The Poker Princess is your champion ($120).

Update:

Go figure. I ask you guys to bust G-Rob in a humilating way, and he goes and does this. For the love of all creatures great and small.

Congratulations to Daddy for his runner up finish.

Long story short, I went heads up with just a slight disadvantage and proceeded to get owned. Not my biggest win to date, but it is my best finish in a field this large.

I gotta stop staying up so late.

The $225

The $225 (aka The World Series of Poker nightly Second Chance tournament) sucked, and I don't say that because I played it five times and never came close to cashing.

Okay, maybe that has something to do with it, but it still sucked.

Don't get me wrong. It was a well-run tournament with good TDs and good dealers. The payouts were great. First prize was usually around $18,000. Not a bad payday.

But it started at 11pm. Even with gamblers hours, you have to quickly realize, the structure was going to be mercury-on-snot fast. Killing off a couple hundred players in a few hours meant the blinds moved so fast (every 20 minutes as I recall), a quick run to the bathroom meant you were likely going to miss half a level.

Of course, I'm an addict. I love tournaments, good or bad.

But, these days, I've started asking myself how -EV are the crapshoots and should we even bother playing them?

[Note: The following all pertains to live tournaments. We can discuss online structures another day. Plus, if I started talking about online structures, I'd start getting all shilly and pimpy. Second, I won't be discussing major, big buy-in tournaments here. Finally, I'm no expert on tournament structures. I have a basic understanding and a bit of common sense that leads me to figure out what is good and bad. Feel free to tell me I'm an idiot.]

Ye Olde Bait and Switch

So, let's piss off the casinos, shall we? Most casinos' daily tournaments suck on ice. They can't be blamed too much. Tournaments don't offer them much in the way of good rake opportunity. To make it anywhere close to a profit-oriented venture, they have to bump up the juice so much that it makes it not worth your time.

Anyone who has been to Vegas once knows this. If you're one of the people who have not yet tried it, be warned: The sole purpose of casinos offering tournaments is to get you in their poker room to play the cash games. They'll ask if you want to sit in a cash game while you're waiting for the tournament to start. They'll let you register early if you're sitting in a game. When you bust out, they will be there to ask if you'd like to sit down in a cash game. Again, there is nothing wrong with this little bait and switch. It's marketing. It's part of what I do for a living, so I can't knock it. Nonetheless, like being in bed with a woman, it's good to know why you're there.

Paging Mr. S. Gonzalez

So, given that we know the casinos have little interest in tournaments outside of the cash game lure and the minute amount of juice they make, we can easily figure out what kind of structure is best for the casino. Fast. Speedy Gonzalez fast.

What is fast? Any live tournament with blind levels less than 30 minutes is too fast. Simple as that.

Many of the low buy-in tourneys in cardrooms these days have 20 minute levels. Some get as ugly as doing 15 minute levels. Twenty minutes is rough. Fifteen minutes is an insult to your intelligence.

In the day and age of television poker, the Hollywooders of the poker world routinely take too long to make a decision about whether to fold A6o to an under the gun raise. In most cases, you will get around the table one to one 1/2 times per level. That is insulting.

Now, again, I don't blame the casino. If you asked, they told you how fast the levels would go, so it's your fault not their's. Nonetheless, like being in bed with a woman, speed is not a good thing.

The Blind Leading the Blind

Okay, so you've convinced yourself the casino has not given you the old bait and switch. You've decided you're perfectly fine with premature de-stackulation. Well, give yourself one more chance to open your eyes and take in the blindness.

Look at the blinds. We know how often they go up, but how much do they go up at each level? Do you start at 50/100, then to 100/200, then 200/400, then 400/800? If so, you're staring at a horrible structure. Of course the size of your starting stack (coming in just a moment) has a lot to do with this, but a good rule is: If it's double every time, it's trouble every time.

Now, of course, no one expects a one-day tournament to have a great structure. To finish the tournament in a reasonable amount of time, the structure has to move along faster than structures like those of, say, the World Series of Poker. But, you'd always be keen to find a one-day structure that goes a little like this:

2500-3000 chips

25/50
50/100
75/150
100/200
150/300
200/400

After that, in a good one-day tournament, you'll likely start to see the doubling start. It has to move along sometime. However, with the above structure, you'll be able to play a little poker for a couple hours. Given, this structure will take more than a few hours to finish. But that's what you want, isn't it? Like being in bed with a woman, it's better to last for several hours than being stacked off in forty minutes.

Stacked

Finally, as mentioned above, you'll want to start with a decent stack of chips. I know a lot of people who cringe when we say, "Okay, everybody starts with 150 in chips." They will complain, "Come on, man, let's make this bigger. Give everybody 4500 in chips."

As any savvy player is aware, the number of chips means nothing on its own. It all has to do with the number of chips relative to the blinds. In the deeeeeeep-stacked WSOP main event, every player begins with $10,000 in chips. The blinds start at $25/$50. That is a stack that starts at 200x the big blind. That, of course, is way too large for a one-day event.

I played in one WSOP event this year ($1500 buy-in for 1500 chips with blinds that began at 25/25). While the field was massive, the structure was not disgusting at all. In the middle levels, it felt fast, but it really wasn't.

So, what is a reasonable stack-size relative to the blinds for a one-day event? Opinions differ on this pretty strongly. If I ran the world (lord, help us all), I'd want to start with no less than 50x the starting big blind. I'd prefer 60x. I'd be quite pleased with 75x. Others say 100x.

Like being in bed with a woman, it's not the size, it's the relative size.

Revolution?

Ideally, we'd all just boycott the crapshoot tourneys in our cardrooms. But, it wouldn't do much good, I figure. Cheap day-long tournaments are not profitable for the casinos. The Bellagio apparently has a really nice structure for its Friday and Saturday $1000 event, but that's about the only tournament I know of where players generally walk away and feel like they got their money's worth.

Of course, many people lament that they'll never get tournament experience if they don't play the crapshoot events. I would suggest, in conclusion, that you don't want that kind of experience. The only thing you learn at those tournaments is how to play a shortstack. You're better off to play online tournaments, which is, of course, another post for another day.

Finally, as my Dad likes to say, "Lord knows I've been wrong before." You think I'm wrong, leave me a comment and let me know how. I love being wrong about stuff like this. Also, if you know of a regular one-day tournament in Vegas or anywhere that has a good structure, leave it in the comments here. I'd be interested to know where it is.

After all, like being in bed with a woman...

Oh, forget it.

Only 60 entrants, so the prize pool wasn't massive. What should I expect, though, when insomnia kicks in and I start a tourney at 2am?

Also, for any of you who were wondering how my Party skin cashout has been going, I no longer have any reason to worry. Three cashouts have gone through just fine. One more to go and I'm golden. Thanks to everyone for their concern. (Also, thanks to everyone who called me a dumbass for keeping 75% of my bankroll in one site. No doubt, I am an idiot.).

The night started poorly enough. I sorta convinced Bob and Drizz to jump in the $50 O8 Limit tourney on PokerStars. That's so -EV they've dropped the E. It's just plain negative value. Of course, thrice-confirmed-huge-junk Bob is the 860th Greatest Poker Player in the World as of June 3, 2005 and Drizz actually knows how to play Omaha (I heard he's gotten lessons from Felicia).

Somehow, seeing 68% of the flops was a bad idea, and despite a big early stack, I was the first of the three amigos to get slain by El Guapo. I couldn't even say something fancy like, "I was counterfeited on the turn." I thought I had the "wrap" once, but Drizz informed me I had no idea what I was talking about.

Soon thereafter, Bob fell. I cried. Finally, our hero, Drizz, fell to the whims of variance (not really, he was just kinda shortstacked and his naked A2 didn't hold up... HA! Like I know what a naked A2 is!!!!).

Drizz decided to make up his losses at the PLO8 tables, which he did in short order. He also cashed in a huge PokerStars MTT, for I think $2.84. I'm serious.

Bob went to bed, to The Blonde's dismay.

I went in search of more action. It started at Pacific. Earlier this week I was handed $10 free to come back and use their horrible software. I won a $5 SNG and was up to $29.

So tonight I jumped in a $10 SNG, won that and was up to $65. That's when I eyed a MTT $5000 guarantee with a $25 entry fee and only 12 entrants. It started in just over a half hour. I mentioned to Drizz that it may not fill. He assured me it would, but I decided to keep an eye on it anyway.

In the meantime, I opened up UB (don't kill me GRob, I'm working off a bonus), and promptly won a $10 SNG.

Before that run was over, I decided to go ahead and sign up for that MTT at Pacific. After all, I'm going to need the practice if I'm going to win an XBox!!!

When the tourney opened, I was right and Drizz was wrong. There was a huge overlay. Instead of the 200 players necessary to hit five grand, a measley 198 signed up.

Things didn't go well early. In fact, I should have been eliminated. With TT, I raised to 3x the BB and got called by the BB. The flop came down 9-7-2. I pushed all in and got called. By 77. A miracle T on the river and I was still alive.

From there, I decided that on occasion, I would channel GRob. It really goes back to this post and a conversation I had with Heather yesterday. On some hands, I opted for unbridled aggression. I picked players I perceived as weak and punished them. I avoided confrontation with big stacks but abused the small and medium ones.

When we got down to 22 players, I was in 3rd, but well behind 1st. In fact, I was a lot closer to 22nd than 1st. Top 20 paid and, frankly, I was just happy to be doubling my money.

That's about when I pinged Austin April. A trend I've sensed in UFP MTT cashes is some rail-birding from April. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop in to watch, but she gave me her best, "Good luck" and made me promise to tell her first how it went (check your Yahoo IM).

When we got down to 20, I was well behind 3 stacks, well ahead of 3 and bunched with everyone else. I picked my spots here and there and managed to get to the final table. Suddenly I was in line for at least $100. I was excited!

Unfortunately the blinds were rather high and there wasn't much post-flop action. It was a lot of pre-flop raises with folds or all-in calls. I caught just enough good cards to get to the final three in really good shape.

Sitting in the small blind with a marginal hand, I decided to limp and see how the players reacted. The player to my left immediately pushed all in. I had him significantly covered, but I didn't have the cards to call. Nonetheless, I learned something.

Very next hand, on the button, and I look at Rockets. Any guess what I did? I limped again, and predictably, the player to my left pushed all in. I called and he was easily dispatched.

I had a huge chip lead now, but an ill-advised all-in call brought us back to even. It was clear to me I was the better heads up player and I channeled even more GRob here and applied as much pressure as I could.

He allowed to get himself to get virtually blinded down to about 4x the BB. He made a move against my AJ and never improved.

I won.

I couldn't believe it.

I've never won a tournament with so many players and certainly not with as big of a first prize. This money goes right into the Vegas fund! Look out! UFP is on a roll!

1) Initial tournament will be restricted to 16 teams (32 players)

2) Teams will sign up as pairs, and to sign up, you email me at Euchre -@- UpForAnything.net. If you do not have a partner, and wish to play, drop your name in the comments and find one that way. You CAN NOT sign up as a team through the comments. You must email me.

3) All games will be played on Yahoo! Games.

4) Initial rounds will be best of 3 games, semi-finals will be best of 5 games and finals will be best of 7 games.

5) Once the tournament kicks off, teams will have one week to finish their round. Results can be posted in comments here or emailed to me at the address above.

6) There is no prize beyond pride in knowing who the best team is. If teams wish to wager amongst themselves, that's their choice.

7) All decisions of the Touranment Commissioner (me) are final.

---------------

I will list teams that signup below. If there is a great demand for more teams, I reserve the right to expand the field.

Teams:
1) Heather/CJ
2) Drizz/BG
3) Matt from Austin/Megan from Austin (Readers and ringers?)
4) The Donkey Feltchers: Maudie/Daddy
5) GRob/Uncle Ted from G-Vegas
6) Jim Dingeman/Bob Paschke (readers, presumably, working on that)

Killing some time Wednesday night while waiting for WCOOP Event #11 to finish up, I decided to play an event I really enjoy. It's been a while since I made a final table. Felt good to actually succeed in a tournament. Thanks to CJ for the final table sweat. Also, congrats to G-Rob for making a final table in an O8 event just a hour or so after mine.

Back in that first December WPBT event, I was practically blinded off sitting between Max Pescatori and Felicia. I was scared, intimidated, unsure of myself. I was a wimp. I couldn't have been more of a rock if I had rolled off a mountainside.

But that was my game. I played tight. I didn't think I had it in me to play any other way. And frankly, with online poker rooms populated by idiots, tight was profitable. I had fun and made money doing it. ABC poker helped me cash in countless SNG's.

However, I lacked the creativity necessary to compete in multi-table tournaments. While my style often helped me accumulate chips early, better players took advantage of me, and I lacked the necessary skill to change gears. And frankly, things like the "gap concept" and "continuation betting" were just not part of my game.

But you finished 2nd in the WPBT Aladdin Classic!!!!

It was a fluke. I took advantage of a poor blind structure, played more aggressively than I might have otherwise, and caught just enough cards when it mattered. Remember my consecutive blind flushes? Not quite the stuff of Harrington and Chan.

So yesterday was tournament time. It would be the largest tournament I've ever been a part of. And I would miss the entire first hour.

Here's where I extend a huge thanks to Heather. I had hoped to get out of work in time to be online. I was due a break for working 17 straight days at the time. I don't get overtime... so I thought I'd sneak out early. It didn't work out so well. It's kinda hard to leave the station sometimes.

So GRob jumped on the girly-chatty thing and told me Heather was willing to play for me until I got home. I got her my info and crossed my fingers. I knew she'd play better than I would have, but I was hoping she got some cards. There was no way I was going to rebuy, so I needed to get to the first break with enough chips to make an add on worth it.

Heather did more than enough, getting me there with a solid 4060T, just below average stack. She probably could have done even more, but she got moved to a table with a guy who played about a dozen consecutive hands all in. I hate rebuys.

And It Begins...

Heather stuck around with some words of advice and encouragement throughout. I was also happy to see well wishes from Otis, GRob, Pauly and Iggy, among others.

I was about 175T below average when the second hour started. The rebuys and add ons were over, so I didn't have to worry too much about crazy all ins. That meant I could play my game.

It didn't take me long to establish my tight image, and with some continuation bet encouragement from Heather, I was accumulating chips.

An early key hand was the dreaded Hilton Sisters. I bet my standard 3xBB and got two callers. The flop came down K-9-3 rainbow. Ugh. I hate overcards. The first player checked and I threw out a bet about 2/3 of the pot, I think 500T. The player behind me called. The river was another undercard and I lead out with 1500T, and got called.

Now I was worried. When the river was another undercard, I wanted desperately to check, but that would have invited a bet that would force me to fold, whether he had the king or not. Or course, my 1500T bet at the river was its own sign of weakness, but I simply got called, not raised, and my pocket Q's beat A9s. It was a big boost to my stack.

Thankfully, I was moved shortly after that play because I think the way I played the hand gave my opponents too much information. And, frankly, there were some pretty good players at the table. At my new table, I was surrounded by a bunch of medium stacks, and considerably less skill.

Here's where I started playing the kind of poker I've never really played before. Sitting in the BB with K6s, it's folded to the SB who makes a good sized raise. I come right back over the top with a re-raise and he lays it down. I can't remember the last time I protected my blind.

A few hands later, I'm on the button when the glorious HAMMER falls my way. It's folded around to me giving me the opportunity to raise it up and take it down. Otis told me when I showed that Mrs. Otis exclaimed, "Hammer!"

The next break rolls around and I'm to 12060T. It was a strong hour for me and I'm suddenly a few thousand chips above average.

The Ups and Downs

Despite talk from Heather and Otis that I'd eventually have to change gears, all agreed now wasn't the time. I still waited for cards, looked for opportunities to attack medium stacks, and bided my time. I had gotten myself up to roughly 14000T and I was feeling good.

When I looked down at KQo in early position, I made one of my loosest plays, and raised to 3xBB. I suppose I hadn't played many hands, and, frankly, I was rarely getting called. This time I did, by the BB.

The flop came down AKx. My opponent bet just 600T, less than a third of the pot. It seemed to be a pretty good sign of weakness, so I raised it up to 1500T. He called.

The turn was a Q giving me two pair. He lead out again with 600T and this time I raised to 2000T. He called again. The river was a blank, and, yet again, I was faced with a 600T bet. Heather's advice to just call didn't come soon enough, because I raised to 3000T and got called by AQ. I figured the guy for an A, but I didn't put him on two pair. In fact, the way the guy had been playing, I barely gave him credit for an A.

The call was clearly the better play there. The guy was only going to call my raise if he could beat me. The raise was not likely to make me any more money. It was a 3000T lesson. Here was apparently some chat between Otis and Heather:

Otis: What did CJ put him on? AJ?
Heather: No, he put him on STUPID.

That about sums it up. Later the same guy took a shot at a pot with 84o, and sucked out on AK. The guy was not very good, but I still lost a big part of my stack to him.

Sitting at just 8435T I was now back below average. Not a place I like to be. That's when I looked down at a couple of handsome Cowboys. A player in early position raised it from 200 to 500. When it got to me, I pushed it to 1500. I wanted to see where this guy stood and I didn't want a weak ace sticking around.

Unfortunately, as Heather lamented, the raise wasn't big enough because I got a caller before it got back to the original raiser. He, however, immediately pushed it to 3600. That really left me two choices. Assume he has Aces and fold, or push all in. If he had Aces, so be it. I pushed. The third player folded and the original raiser went into the tank.

He used up almost his entire time bank before finally deciding to call and showing JJ. I was a huge favorite. The flop of KQ8 made me a virtual lock, although the J on the turn worried me slightly. The 7 on the river doubled me up and I was back at 16216T, well above average.

I hit a little over 17000T by the next break, my second straight hour in which I added 5000 chips to my stack. I was feeling great.

And It Comes Crashing Down

I'm in the BB (100/200/25) when I see Big Slick. The hand had actually been pretty good to me so far in the tourney. I knew I should have seen it coming.

A solid player in MP raised to 1000. A substantial raise. At that point, I had to see where I stood. I raised to 3000 and got called. The flop was about as good I could hope, A72. I suppose it was a Hammer flop.

I bet about 3/4 of the pot, throwing in 6000. Almost immediately, my opponent raised all in to a little more than 10000. Unless I figured him for Aces (which I didn't because he would likely have reraised me pre-flop), I would have to call his all in. I did, and, unfortunately, he flipped A7o.

Ugh. I never improved and was down to just a thousand chips.

Heather and Otis agreed I "played it perfectly" and said it was a "bad beat," but I wasn't so sure. I was reluctant to call it a bad beat because I was well behind when the money went into the middle. And perhaps I should have raised more preflop or played it differently after the flop.

Of course, I don't really believe any of that second-guessing. I got caught by a guy who called a big raise with A7o. I want him to make that play every single time. Once he makes that call, I put him on a big pair or a big Ace. If he has the last two Aces in the deck, so be it, I'm going home. Otherwise, I'm ahead or tied in the hand.

But he made an ill-advised pre-flop play and then out-flopped me. It was soul-crushing.

A few hands later, I looked down at AJo and reluctantly made my move. Two players got money in the pot before me making my hand that much more vulnerable. A promising board of 554AQ wouldn't be enough to overcome Big Slick, and I went home in 799th place, well out of the money.

The New Tricks

I'm not sure my boring, clinical discussion of my play really explained what I was feeling throughout the tournament. I felt really good about my play. I could sense when people were making a move or when they were showing weakness. I took advantage of openings and easily accumlated chips without putting much of my stack at risk.

I did everything I wanted to. It was probably the best I ever played. I have to give Heather a lot of credit for that because she provided the pushes where I needed them. Now, I just have to make this style a more permanent part of my game. Maybe next time I won't get drilled by A7!

I checked and both players checked behind me. The turn was a blank, and I lead out for 500. I didn't realize the player to my left only had 725 left and he quickly pushed all in. I was committed and had to call.

"Well, I know I'm behind," I said, flipping my AQ.

"You sure are," he said, flipping QT. He played it perfectly, making a move on me I just didn't expect. When the miracle T fell on the river, however, I was relieved to split the pot. It shook my confidence a bit. I think I should have seen that coming.

Beyond that, I mostly played premium hands hard pre-flop and bet when ragged cards fell, scooping pots without showing that I missed most of the time.

We were suddenly down to 5 and the top 3 paid. I found A9o and raised it up to 3xBB. The player to my left had me outchipped and immediately went all in. A small stack called him and I mucked. He flipped pocket A's. We were down to 4.

The next hand, I catch A6s and I raise to 3xBB. The same guy immediately pushes all in again. It's folded back to me and I think long and hard before mucking. He flips American Airlines again.

I'm now down to just 1325 and the blinds are 400/800. My BB is all rags and it was called and raised in front of me. I decide to take my stand on my SB instead.

With 400 of my 525 in the pot, I peek down at Q6o. I guess it could have been worse. But then I hear the magic words "All-in." UTG raises it to 1400 pushing all his chips in. With the Big, Big stack in the BB, I knew he'd get a call. I could have made a stand, but I wanted that $20. I folded and watched the short stack go. Lucky me.

It turns out I would have split that pot. But it wouldn't have mattered. One hand later, I looked down at Ace-rag and it fell, knocking me out in third.

Unforunately, my buddy, "Steeley Dan" didn't learn from my play. In the second game, he was shortstacked, but in third place out of 4 players remaining. "Old Man" Chris was about to throw his last 750 in pot with the BB at 800.

Instead of waiting, "Steeley Dan" decided to make a stand with A5s against a healthy stack in the SB and a healthy stack in the BB. He only had 850 and the SB hardly thought about it before calling. "Steeley Dan" was fortunate the BB wasn't paying attention because he mucked despite needing just 50 more to call.

The SB had K6o, and a 6 on the flop was enough to burst "Steeley Dan's" bubble. Just one more fold and he likely would have fininished in 3rd and won $20.

I know we play to win tournaments, but sometimes, when you're struggling just to make the BB, playing to just finish in the money is the correct way to play. Never risk your tournament on the bubble when another short stack is about to make the mistake for you.

I don't think it was intentional, but I'm not sure. For some reason, I've become a bit of a target at The Mark. And for some reason, I think Cigar Popsicle Girl knew she could put me on tilt.

When she hit the table with the striped, frozen phallic symbol, I couldn't help but comment on my inability to watch a girl eat a popsicle. I folded my big blind to a raise and tried to concentrate on how nice the new table The Mark was.

When my small blind came up, Popsicle Girl and a few others limped in. I looked down to find AK suited in clubs. I put out a bet that was around the size of the pot. Popsicle Girl was taking her own sweet time, her concentration focused on the frozen goodness in her hands.

I callled her by name and, in my best table captain voice, tried to sound commanding.

"If you keep focusing on the popsicle, I'm going to have to call the clock on you."

I sounded like the guy in the 80s movie who is trying to play the role of Patrick Dempsey and stand up to the jocks. That is, I sounded like a pussy. And Popsicle Girl knew it.

She grabbed her chips like they weighed less than 11.5 grams and threw them in the pot. Her eyes said, "Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me." Suddenly we were heads up and seeing the flop. Kxx rainbow.

I checked to her. Why? Because she'd been aggressive in recent hands and I knew she would bet. She joked, blowing her good humor in cold waves across the rapidly disappearinng popsicle's face. "I have a flush draw," she said.

I tried to joke back. "Remarkably," I said, "so do I." And I called.

The turn was the eight of clubs, the perfect card for me. Now the board had a king and three rags on it. What's more, I now had the nut flush draw.

"I check," I said, doing my best to sound as weak as I usually am.

She tilted the popsicle and threw out another bet. Her eyes glinted with some form of malevolence that only poker playing women can conjure. Her husband seemed in awe, somehow impressed.

With as much authority as I could muster, I raised, sure that my check-raise would send her to the fridge for a banana or plantain.

She thought for a moment, then called.

My read changed there. She had a king or a club draw, and if it was the king, it was almost certainly paired with a queen or jack.

I had decided, even before she called, that all of my chips would be in the middle on the river. But when then river came as the jack of spades, I hesitated for a half second. BadBlood was two seats away and, though he didn't say a word, I could almost hear his voice. "Trust your read," it said.

My read said I was 50/50 to be beat. Still, my hands moved to my chips and I put them all in the middle.

Popsicle Girl studied her popsicle again and paused. It was in that moment that I knew I had won. If she had made two pair, the call would've been immediate. The popsicle would've fallen to the floor and melted into the tile, just another failed tool in the mission to take down the man with serious visual stimulation issues.

"I guess I have to call," she said, covering my all-in by quite a bit. For one whole second, I felt like a man again. I felt like a man who could stand up to the girl who had put him on tilt fourteen months before. I wanted to say, "Show me king-queen."

But then, like a man who's been caught in a precarious and embarassing position, something clicked in my head. There was a glint in her eye. There was something there I hadn't seen through the frozen ice dancing in front of her face.

"I hope you don't have the jack" I said.

With the sneer of a true maneater, she glared at me and said, "Two pair."

And flipped over king-jack.

And again, there I sat, just off State Park Road, emasculated, eviscerated, and with no chips in front of me.

As I walked out, I made sure to invite everyone to Bradoween. I did not mention that all players who walk in will be searched for cigars, popsicles, and Chick-o-Sticks.

I need to win something soon and I may have just found the one shape that can put me on tilt.

So, in the past two weeks, The Mark and his wife have accounted for more than $200 in losses from my homegame bankroll. I swear, if they show up next weekend with $200 in Macanudos and Bomb Pops, I may just kick them out.

"Old Man" Chris is the game's surly host. If he's not bitching about something, he's looking for his beer. He's a nice guy, but he'll let you know when something is bothering him. One night, it's the fact that the blinds moved from 200/400 to 300/600 instead of doubling to 400/800. God forbid we play a little poker before moving to the slot machines.

"Bad" Chad is the old man's son and another regular. He's got slow-playing down to an art. And by slow-playing, I mean I could call "Clock" on him every hand if it came down to it.

"Steeley Dan" is a co-worker who introduced me to the game. In fact, he's introduced me to a number of games, and hundreds of dollars in profits later, perhaps I should figure out a way to thank him. This isn't the softest he's ever brought me to, but it's close.

First game, I'm in the BB in the first hand with "Steeley Dan"' to my right in the SB. Blinds are at 25/50 and we start with 1200T. Four people call before "Steeley Dan" completes the bet. I decide to check without looking. I do it on occasion and announce I won't look until someone bets. Other times, I raise on principal just to punish the limpers. Perhaps I should have don the latter in this case.

The flop comes donw Ah-Qc-Tc. "Steeley Dan" bets the pot, 300T.

"Ah... you're gonna make me look. Watch out!" I say, before peeking down at Kd-Jc. That's right, the nut straight. I pushed all-in.

Frankly, I was trying to tell him to lay it down. I was trying to tell him he couldn't have a better hand. He obviously thought I was trying to put a move on him, and he called. He flipped Ad-Th.

"Looks like you guys will have an all-time dealer," I said with a smile.

I was an 81% favorite at that point. He had four outs. I'm not a fan of bad beat stories, so I'll keep it short. The Ac fillled him up on the turn and my miracle Kc missed the river. I was out.

Guess who became all-time dealer.

Mercifully, that game moved along exceptionally fast, finishing in just over two hours. We lost our first 6 players at an average of one every 6 minutes.

The second game started with just 11 players and I found "Bad" Chad to my right. He was UTG the first hand and he threw out a raise to 200T. I peek down at my cards and see AQs. Here's the thing about "Bad" Chad's play, he either limps or min-raises with monsters. He craves action and wants callers when he's got a big hand. I knew he didn't have a big hand.

I raise to 500T. He moves around the table with about half of them faking an all-in move, joking about me going out fast again. When it got back to "Bad" Chad, I considered immediately calling "Clock!" but I didn't. He went through his typical ritual of stacking his chips and counting and stacking his chips and counting before moving all in with authority. Paging Mike Caro!

I knew I had him beat, but by how much? I suppose he could have had a little pair and that would actually put me behind, but I didn't believe that's what he was holding. I really thought he might be on Ax and that would make me about a 3-to-1 favorite.

So why would he push all-in, I asked myself. Easy, he figured there's no way I'd call. He figured there's no way I'd risk going out the first hand in the second straight game.

And I suppose, if I were smart, I should have laid it down. After all, I could beat these guys if I played my game. I would be down to just 700T, but I've come back from worse. No mater what he's holding, he's got outs, and that puts my tournament at risk.

That last paragraph didn't go through my head before I called him. He flipped over KTo making me a 2-to-1 favorite. The T on the flop put me way behind and I never improved. I was out... on the first hand... again. I didn't volunteer to deal.

Thankfully, the second game moved about as fast as the first, and we managed to squeeze in a third game with 8 players.

I folded the first hand and went on to win it. That gave me a $30 profit for the night. I suppose I would have been in great shape to win either of the first two games, had my better hand held up, but that's poker. I want those guys making those plays against me every time, right?

Or was I stupid to risk all my chips on the first hand of a tournament?

One other funny thing... I had completely forgotten this two-year-old e-flier from Bradoween 3D.

That's all for now.

A few minutes ago, I missed being a working journalist for the first time since I quit TV. Given, I'm still a writer and sometimes journalist, but there's something different about what I do. I don't think I need to elaborate.

So, why? Well, because Johnny Fucking Chan could very possibly win his tenth WSOP bracelet before sunrise. He's about to go heads-up with Phil Laak for the bracelet in the S2500 PL Hold'em event. It's like having a 50-yard-line seat to a legacy-clinching SuperBowl at the beginning of overtime. You don't just leave.

Sitting 20 feet to my right is Phil Hellmuth. He's in the $5000 PL Omaha (rebuy) event. His headphones are off and there's little doubt he cares what's about to happen. If Chan can outlast the Unabomber, he will break the tie with Hellmuth for the record number of bracelets. Hellmuth told the media shark feed a second ago that, of course, he would be jealous, but he's not rooting against Chan. Sure.

All of that said, we have to wait. There's another event finishing on the ESPN TV table. Chan and Laak have agreed to wait to begin their heads-up match until the other event finishes. And this other event doesn't seem like it will end before sunrise.

So, I should go to bed. I don't HAVE to write anything about Chan or Laak. Chan is sponsored by Doyle's Room and Laak knocked my PokerStars guy out of the event with 12 people left. Yet, after seeing the frenzy a moment ago when Chan went heads up, I can't leave. I just can't.

***

Last night, I sat in the back corner of the poker room next to a 55-gallon cart full of bad cards. They were all bent and torn to ensure they wouldn't be used again. I felt much the same. Mrs. Otis was on the phone and sounded on the edge of breakdown. L'il Otis cried in the background and suddenly I was on the verge of tears myself.

After ten days at the WSOP, I hit the wall Dr. Pauly had been talking about. It was something I described on my other blog as Groundhog Day verisimiltude. The same games, the same people, the same cocktail waitressess, the same food, the same air, the same self-loathing. All of that combined with an overwhelming sense of guilt over leaving Mrs. Otis saddled with a month-long single motherhood finally got to me.

I realized at that moment that I wasn't taking very good care of myself. I had schooled others on the way to survive long Vegas runs, but I wasn't taking my own advice. I was sleeping and eating too little and working too much. My body clock was already off by twelve hours.

I decided that I was going to fix myself up, make sure I was tired in time for a reasonable bedtime tonight, and get a good night's rest. Get my mind right, so to speak.

Now, Chan and Laak are waiting in the wings while the most boring heads-up match ever plays out on the ESPN TV table.

And I'm wating next to the good Doctor. Mother fucker brings me screwdrivers at 4:30pm on a day that doesn't matter and he's drinking ginger ale tonight. What poor planning.

Sober Pauly

***

It seemed like a rain delay during monsoon season. I wasn't sure I could stand the wait. The cash bar is closed and I couldn't find my friendly cocktail guy John to hook me up with a freebie. I went and peeked at my carnivore, Jennifer Tilly, at the final table of the ladies event. The crowd was too thick. And I seem to have misplaced my media badge.

As I made my way back to media row, the marathon event was ending. The man on the cusp of the bracelet refused to look at the board. He turned his back to the table and Johnny Fucking Chan was standing there. Chan took the guy's hand and kept an eye on the board. When the river fell, Chan looked the dude directly in the eye and said simply, "You won."

If there is a way to win a WSOP bracelet in the coolest fucking fashion, that has to be it.

***

A few seconds ago, I stood relating the story above to the dude from CardPlayer. While we talked, the guys from ESPN miked up Chan right beside me. Chan held a cold can of Red Bull to his eyes. I do the same thing with Diet Coke bottles in the morning.

It smells like victory.

Phil Laak eyeing the cash

Chan in waiting

As the match begins, Pauly disappears to just watch. Phil Laak turns into Laak when Chan forces him to make a decision for all his chips. You will, no doubt, see it on TV. That's what televised poker is all about.

But what is bracelet winning about? I'd like to think, at least for now, it's about what Chan is doing. Playing for the bracelet more than playing for the crowd and cameras.

***

While the dealer is washing the car, Poker Wire Lisa comes over to tell me about the roast she cooked at 7am. Leeks, apparently, are key to a good roast. Now, I'm hungry again. Wait. I packed granola bars today,

***

Chan has Laak outchiped 4-1 and Laak is offering Chan money to see his hole cards. Chan doesn't need the money. In fact, as he whittles away at Laak's stack, he mimmicks Laak's antics...

You know what...this is something I should just watch.

***

...and I did. And it was so fucking worth the wait.

What happened?

Well, that's not my job right now.

You'll see it on TV.

Otis:

Congratulations! The World Series of Poker is the most prestigious Poker event in the world. This is your receipt for $1500 for your deposit for WSOP Event #2 on Friday, June 3, 2005 at 12 noon. Your deposit reserves you a seat in Event #2. Upon arrival at the RIO, to finalize your registration and to receive you table and seat assignment, please visit the Registration Window, located in the Tournament Area. You must complete your tournament registration at least one hour prior to your event. Please be prepared to provide proof of identity via a Drivers License, Passport, or Military I.D. This year’s WSOP events will no doubt be the largest and most exciting event in history. Harrahs continues to lead the industry in creating an innovative gaming experience for valued guests. Harrahs and the Tournament Staff sincerely wish you, “GOOD LUCK!!!”

1 BobRespert--Won WSOP Seat
--------------------------
2 phillsievers --Chopped 2nd place money
3 JoeSpeaker --Chopped 2nd place money
4 txchach --Chopped second place money
----------------------------
5 slim999
6 hdouble
7 Chops here
8 TripJax
9 badblood44
10 BigSlickNut
11 misterd2u
12 rchamberlin
13 peacecorn
14 jerge88
15 drmullets
16 dnasty13
17 ABVidale
18 Dragonystic
19 skitchorama
20 BigJohn804
21 Grasp
22 lifesagrind
23 TNSpaceman
24 Drizztdj
25 ephro
26 NegativeEV
27 Simms34
28 HeyKidsItsBG
29 monstermaker
30 VARoadstter
31 good43
32 spm1024
33 Easycure
34 blacklab11
35 Bugsy 99
36 TheFilmGeek
37 Up4Poker
38 Bazkar
39 Gobias
40 FatTabbyMama
41 heL1xx
42 chrisdhal
43 CrzySmrtGuy
44 T-F-G
45 xupugh
46 HermWarfare
47 sellthekids
48 Columbo777
49 lucas67
50 Guinness
51 DnkyPnchr74
52 maigrey
53 pcar79
54 Statham
55 misst74
56 ScottMcMilla
57 sloejack
58 787Style
59 The_Venetian
60 lumpy19
61 asphnxma
62 Donegal
63 Ankhorahil
64 fhwrdh
65 S.t.B
66 phlyersphan
67 ricoM
68 GameC
69 GRobman
70 Obie34
71 DrPauly
72 speclj
73 lefty
74 CharityShill
75 Maudie
76 myradiohead
77 micon
78 tpfelt

Outed on Empire

It was during this backslide, a tumultuous and nasty run of poor concentration and carelessness, that I found myself in a little $75+$7 on Empire. I justified the entry because it appeared the overlay for the $10K guarantee was going to be susbstantial.

Within the first ten minutes, yessir, within the first level I had dropped from my initial T1000 starting stack to a mere T20. How does that happen? Well, Otis catches a queen high raggedy rainbow flop with AQ in the small blind. A queen on the turn ain't the nuts, but it feels like it. Of course, my opponent holds a pocket pair and flopped a set on the turn to beat me with a boat.

On the verge of giving up for the rest of April, I managed to build my T20 up to T100. And then the T100 up to T400. And then up to T1000. By the end of level two, I was back up to my starting stack. By the second break I was sitting at T5000.

It was about this time that I enjoyed a moment bloggers like Dr. Pauly and BadBlood have written about. A reader (hey, Poker Diver) who knows Otis lore from this blog and PokerStars blogs, popped in to wish me luck.

In the end, the luck moved around the table the wrong way. Once we reached the money, I felt like I had a decent shot at the final table. Sadly, I got all-in preflop with my pocket kings and my opponent flopped a queen to match the two in his hand.

Seventeenth place paid a rocking $100, handing me an $18 profit for my time. In short, the only thing I got out of it was a good chip/chair story.

I tossed the laptop in a full laundry basket and fell alseep to restless dreams about my wife going homicidal and lawless. Seems like every time I have these dreams, I find myself running from the law in some way.

I think I have a guilty conscience.

The Country Club Game

It was 11:30am Saturday morning and I was speeding down a two-lane highway south of my little burg. A bar singer from my original hometown belted out of the CD player with the words "No one's gonna stop to pick up a stranger, and the stranger that you look, the faster they drive by." I had the window down, even though it was too chilly for such a thing. I ate Nutter-Butters, pounded Diet Mountain Dew, and checked my face in the rearview mirror.

I was on my way to a $250 buy-in NL Hold'em tournament at a local country club. When I pulled into the parking lot, there was a brand new black Corvette with the license plate "FLOPASET" and a H2Hummer with the license plate "THENUTZ."

I pulled out an envelope that contined another envelope that countained yet another envelope, inside which was my entire cash bankroll. Exactly why I'd chosen to bring the whole thing, I don't know. There was a part of me that believed I was about to enter the land of milk and honey, where rich boys play for real cash and Otis could finance his summer plans.

I pulled a few hundred bucks out of the inner envelope, packed the three envelopes together, then hid them all in a fourth envelope inside Emilio, my SDV-SUV. I stepped out, and, almost as an after thought grabbed a pair of cheap sunglasses to go along with my three card protectors, smaller roll of cash, Certs mini-mints, and two Diet Mountain Dews.

I will admit, as I walked up to the nice-appointed Country Club clubhouse, I had a brief vision of the movie "Rounders" where Mike and Worm fleece the rich boys with the help of that good looking, curly-headed girl. The thoughts disappeared though as I climbed the stairs to the second floor.

A couple dozen people milled around the room. I recognized a few from earlier games at The Mark, BadBlood's, or in the nearby town of Easley. There were other folks who looked familiar, but I couldn't place them.

Chafing dishes lined the walls and would eventually be filled with appetizers. A guy dressed like a butler came around taking drink orders. Giant windows opened up the view of the first tee at the golf course. I stood and watched as one hacker battled the wind and splashed into the water hazard on his first tee-shot. Serves the screwball right for hitting from the back tees on a windy day.

It took a while to figure out how many players we actually had. It was just enough time for me to lose my nerves, then get them back, then lose them again. I passed the time talking to Rank, a regular at BadBlood's who regularly-- and calmly-- sucks out on me. Rank had just come back from Vegas and had nice things to say about the new MGM poker room. That's where I'm staying in June, so I promised to check it out.

Ultimately, the tournament director accounced we had 31 people putting up $250 a piece. He would be paying four places.

False impressions of my own creation

There's a guy who used to work at my old job. The guy was one of those people who never shut up. One time, I tried to out-talk him. I cut him off in mid-sentence. Rather than stopping the word he was on, he hung on it. "Chicken finnnnnnnnnnnnn" he sputtered, the air slipping from his lungs while I talked. Amazingly, he held the word until I finished talking and continued his setence as if I had said nothing at all.

The guy who got sat immediately to my left in the Country Club game could've been Mr. Talker's brother. He sounded like him, looked quite a bit like him, and had facial impressions like him. The only thing was, although I had immediately pegged him as a dolt because he looked like Mr. Talker, he wasn't an idiot. Within the first 30-minute level, he had liberated one player's entire stack holding pocket aces that made a boat on the turn (incidentally, his opponent had such a marginal hand, I thought it might've been a case of chip dumping. Being new to the game, though, I kept my mouth shut).

In the first hour and a half, I played few memorable hands. Pocket jacks on the button got two callers but looked ugly after an ace came on the flop. AQ in the small blind flopped two-pair and had a bettor behind me with a weak ace. Ready for the check-raise, the board paired on the turn and put a possible flush out there on the turn. I won the hand, but didn't maximize my profits on it.

At the first break I was just barely above my T2000 starting stack.

During the break, I got into a conversation with a guy who noticed my WPBT Holiday Classic T-shirt.

"What's that" he asked.

I did my best to explain the concept of online poker writing, yada yada, "Have you ever heard of poker blogs?"

That's when a guy dressed in all black behind me said, "I had a blogger write about me before. I was in Nassau at the WPT event and sat next to Daniel Negreanu all day."

I cut him off, "That was me."

Oddly enough, a local player here played at the PokerStars Caribbean Adventure and I had blogged about him earlier this year. When he gave me his name (and oddly, an approximation of his net worth), I figured out who he was. His name is one synonymous with a chain of car dealerships here.

I wandered around the room during the break. I'd already been pegged as "That writer guy" and several poeple stopped to ask me when my next article is coming out (incidentally, the anwer is next month in CardPlayer).

A few of the guys stroked my ego for a while, either peppering me with questions about my travels or complimenting me on the restraint I showed when I flopped the two-pair with he AQ. I knew it was all bullshit. These guys are poker players and they don't give a damn about me. They want my money.

Then one guy stopped the conversation and looked at me.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Tom Green?" he asked, as if it was the most serious question in the world.

I looked at him and tried to figure out of he was needling me or not. I explained that, no, I'd never been told I looked like Tom Green, that he was the first to ever bring up such a possibility. I said I considered myself more a "Josh Charles" or, if I'm lucky, "Wil Wheaton" type of character. I'm the average white boy. And I'm not Canadian.

Given, in the past month, I've let some scrub brush grow out on my face in what will likely be a failed experiment in testosterone fiddling. Perhaps that's what led the guy to liken me to the Canadian shock comic.

I tried not to think about it, but it stuck in my head as I went back for the second 90 minutes of play.

Again, there was nothing particularly remarkable about my play except for my lack of it. I rarely got involved, dutifully folding any ace that didn't have paint attached to it, shunning suited connectors, and playing very careful with just about any hand I saw. It was no way to win a tournament, but I was there more for a $250 lesson in table performance.

Over the course of the next four hours, I never rose above T3000 in chips. I established such a tight image that no one would play with me. I even ran a successful semi-bluff against a guy who laid down top pair.

By the time we had made it down to 12 players, I was desperately shortstacked. I hated myself for playing such a weak game and not picking up more chips. I finally pushed in with pocket nines and, true to form, nobody called. The blinds sustained me long enough to lay down the best hand (for the third time in one day) and make it to the final table.

I am not a Rank amateur

I called G-Rob in the break before the final table. When I told him the blinds were at 150/300 and I had less than 900 in chips, he laughed.

"Well, you can at least hope to draw the button and survive for...ten more hands."

I agreed. That would be my strategy: get lucky.

When I returned to the tournament area, I drew a seat in the middle of the very nice table (race track along the outer edge green speed cloth in the middle, etc). True to form, BadBlood's regular, Rank, drew the button, putting me directly in the big blind.

Bah.

I paid no attention to my cards as the entire table folded around to Rank on the button. He simply called. The small blind, perhaps thinking I would push all in for my remaining 525 chips (+300 BB), folded. I took a look at my cards and didn't hate them. I held K8o. I decided I wouldn't push ...yet.

The flop came down KQx. Without a second thought, I announced, "I'm all in."

The table laughed at me. Apparently, I was a bit to forceful when I made my announcement. One guy said, "I believe you, man."

Rank thought for a few seconds, long enough for me to know I was ahead. How far ahead, I couldn't tell. I figured him for a Q in his hand to be thinking so long. if he were to call it would be 525 into a 1275 pot. Not quite 2.5:1 odds.

Finally, Rank announced, "I'll call."

"I have the king," I said, flipping over the sure winner, the hand that would surely give me enough chips to double up once more and play for the money.

Quietly, Rank turned over 9T.

I was thankful for the call. He was drawing dead to runner-runner or a jack (I suspect he had to know that...).

Rank, dealing from the button, picked up the cards, burned one, and peeled a jack from the deck, filling in his gutshot, and maintaiing his reputation as the Suck Out King.

I could only muster, "That's appropriate."

I stood from the table and decided it was time to quit playing for the day. I bypassed a rocking $500 max-buy-in NL game and headed for the house.

Home sick

When I got home, my wife, kid, and a goodly portion of the house were covered in puke. The family had gone down to a little festival called Artisphere and the kid had gotten sick. Now everything was drenched in vomit and I was home from a poker tournament where I had busted out short of the money.

Just fine, I thought.

After the kid stopped puking (which he later resumed, by the way), I suggested to the wife we rent a movie and eat a big mess of shrimp in front of the TV.

I popped up to Hollywood Video, grabbed "Ocean's 12", and stood in line.

A guy and his two son's walked up and Dad gave me the look I've seen many times. It's a look that is almost always follwed by, "Hey, I know you. You're on the TV."

I gave him a friendly nod and "howyadoin'."

He looked at me again, closer this time. And then, I kid you not, he said, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Tom Green?"

Q. Why can't readers play?

A. This event is planned as a promotion for the dedicated members of the poker blogging community. We are hoping to host a WPBT blogger/reader tournament next month.

Q. (via ToddCommish)Not to be a complete newbie at this... but how does one "claim" the prize? Is the registration for this seat going to be arranged through PokerStars, or is the winner simply EXPECTED to take the $1500 prize and pay the entry fee on their own?

A. As of right now, PokerStars is not set up to register our winner for the event. Here's how it will work: Once the tournament is complete, a Host at Stars will cut up the winnings, giving $1500 to the winner and the remaining cash to second place. The winner is the responsible for going to this link and pre-registering for Event #2. After pre-registering, you write a personal check or send a money wire to a specific address. That money will confirm your registration in the event. However, you are also responsible for registering on-site.

Q. What's to keep me from winning this sat and just keeping the money

A. Nothing. Except this. If you do that, everyone who played in the tournament will consider you a complete ass. A real freakin' donkey who can't be trusted. If you're just looking to try to win $1500 to buy your girlfriend a new collection of diamante-studded thongs and stiletto heels (or, in the case of our female bloggers, the same outfit for your boyfriends), put your $30 in a MTT and win there. That is, only play if you're planning to use your winnings for the WSOP Event #2.

Q. Okay. I'm planning on not paying attention to the above answer and just keeping the money. What's to keep me from just saying I waited too long to register and then keeping the money to buy lap dances and Soco in Vegas.

A. Because I know you have time register if you do it on Sunday night after the tournament and then send your check that same week. Don't fool around. Get'er done.

Q. Cool, so I have time to regiester.

A. Barely. The event is going to be capped at 2200 people. I suspect it will fill up. YOU MUST PRE-REGISTER AND YOU MUST DO IT WITHIN ONE WEEK OF WINNING. If you wait you're going to be up against an online promotion that could kill your chances of getting in.

Q. So, you want me to waste my $1500. For what?

A. First, it's not a waste. It's living out a fantasy. Go see BadBlood's Fantasy Challenge. Second, if you are the winner of a seat in this event, I will personally buy and ship to your your choice of Maudie-designed WPBT t-shirt or trucker hat to wear during the tournament (Restrictions apply. Inquire after your win).

Q. But what if I win, then do well in the tournament. I'll miss the Aladdin Classic.

A. Actually, you might not. Play on Saturday won't begin until 2pm or 4pm. So you can still make it. (Boy, you're really thinking ahead).

Q. I have a kickball game/Jewish event/scuba diving class that may run long. Can I still sign up?

A. Registration will be open until just before the tournament begins. So, yes. And frankly, if Al Can't Hang can play from a laptop in the Florida Keys, you can make it home to your computer.

Okay, that's all for now. Any more questions? Leave'em here.

Okay, with that said, you'll have to wade through my drivel or scroll to the bottom for details.

Sitting on my coffee table is an envelope addressed to the accounting department of the Rio Suite Hotel and Casino in Vegas. Inside is my registration form and entry fee into Event #2 of the the WSOP.

Now, I'm not the best tournament player around. Not even close. However, my new employment has cut into my chances to win online satellites into big events. For the past year or so, I've been wanting to test my mettle against some of the better tournament players. Not because I think I can win, but just for the experience.

When CJ announced the Aladdin Classic was going to be on June 4, the first thing I did after RSVPing for the WPBT event was check to see what WSOP events were going on that weekend. I was pleased to see there was a NL Hold'em event.

I've been having a pretty good year, so far. And, so, I decided I was going to play. I knew I'd have a couple of poker buddies or new poker buddies playing with me. Greenwood Phil and his crew is heading out for the event. I think Easycure friend Mr. Bush will be out there playing as well.

I'll admit, while I think I have little chance of making it far in the tournament, I occasionally fantasize about the possiblity of making the final table and having a drunken, screaming posse of WPBT members on the rail.

So, when Iggy came up with the idea of running a WSOP satellite, I hoped he would choose Event #2. And he did. Bless the Blogfather.

So, the fantasy grows.

On April 24th, the World Poker Blogger Tour will host the first ever WSOP Event #2 satellite. Just $33 dollars will buy you into the event.

We need 50 entries. I'm confident we'll make it. In fact, I'd love to get 100 entries and give away two seats.

There is the possibility that there will be more than one of these events, but I have a warning.

I've recently learned the WSOP will cap this event at 2200 participants. I think there is a very good chance the event will sell out very early. There are some other things I know that lead me to believe this even more strongly. So, if you want this seat, now is your time to get it.

Now, I have a request.

All along, the point of this is two-fold.

First, it gives bloggers who don't necessarily want to raid their bankroll a chance to play in a big event when all their poker blogging brethren will be in town.

Second, on the chance that a blogger does well, it offers our little community a chance to get some exposure.

So, if you want to play in this, keep those things in mind.

I won't be playing in the satellite for two reasons. First, I'd planned on buying in anyway. Second, the event is being hosted on Stars where I am contractually prohibited from playing. Iggy asked if I'd prefer if it were somewhere else (again, bless the Blogfather), but I said 'no.'

When it comes down to it (and this isn't just me talking) Stars has the best support in the online poker world. And I can tell you, a few folks went out of their way to make sure the event is set up correctly.

So...you'll need to go to Iggy for all the details and private password. You'll need to give him your blog URL and such.

Once you do that, the tournament is up on the Stars site under private tournaments.

DO NOT WAIT to sign up.

Seriously.

And just think, you could be THAT blogger, sitting at the final table, playing for the bracelet, while a drunken Otis, Iggy, Al Can't Hang, G-Rob, Badblood, a sober BG and CJ, and 50 other bloggers crow from the rail.

Epic.

Hit Iggy and sign up today.

I've actually exceeded my one-per-week plan in the multi-tables. Out of six in the past eight days, I've placed ITM in four, including two final table appearances. Tonight was the second final table.

I took fourth. But I should've won.

On the final hand, I was second in chips with about 250K. The big stack had approximately 310K. The two remaining stacks sat at approx. 100K a piece. With the blinds at 5000/10,000, I found AKs on the button. As I was planning to play either of the two shortstacks for all their chips, the big stack raised 13x the big blind to 130,000 under the gun.

Yeah, he raised 13x the big blind.

Now, I don't know what to do with this. From hand number one I'd promised myself I was going to forget about the money and play to win. Every hand. And I did. I was proud.

So, what do I do with ths? I have big slick in spades, on the button facing an unmentionable raise.

Well, I pushed in. All of it. On five cards. The money jump from third to fourth was more than three grand.

I was playing to win.

Actually, I was playing to lose, I guess.

The big stack called with JJ and I didn't improve.

Looking back, I guess I could've folded, but I just can't see doing that.

The only other move I could've made was simply to call for more than half my stack. I would've put it all in on the flop, though, because two spades came down on a queen high board. And I'm almost certain Big Stack would've called my stop-and-go move. Or maybe not.

Maybe I should've thought longer and played the stop-and-go.

Damn it.

So, I'm unhappy with my final play, but not unhappy with making two final tables on two consecutive Thursdays.

I need to sleep.

Note...the big stack ended up taking second after losing a 5-1 chip lead to one of the shorter stacks.

We started at about 7:30pm and about an hour later we were down to six. All 15 players started with T1000 with blinds at 25/50, going up every half hour. The average stack size was T2500. Take me out of the equation, and their average stack was T2995. If you do a little quick math, you'll find I was down to T225.

Oh, and blinds were at 100/200. Oh, and I was UTG.

I suppose you could say I was a little desperate. If Felicia were there, she'd be berating me for being afraid to die and letting myself get blinded away. But why start here... let's step back a bit.

---

I had played with a few of these guys 2 weeks ago, and in two 8-person $10 SNG's, I won first and second place, for a profit of $70. Maybe they thought I was a ringer.

Two weeks later, I'm back and the pot is now $150. $110 goes to the winner, $30 to second and $10 to third. If you haven't come to win, you shouldn't be playing.

I know I can play with these guys. There's little if any fancy play. I can't remember seeing many, if any, check-raises. There wasn't a whole lot of slow-playing. These guys played their hands if they were good, or occasionally threw a stone-cold bluff. There wasn't much else. However, the blind structure mandated I adjust my rock-like tendencies.

I folded around the first two orbits with bad hand after bad hand. By that time, a guy at the table had announced he wants to see every flop because if you fold rags and they hit, you lose money. I filed that away.

I get AQs and raise to T150 (3xBB). Mr. Any Two Cards folds, but the next guy calls. The flop is all undercards and I bet out T200. My opponent calls, and I'm worried. I've got myself seriously shortstacked because I thought he'd fold. The turn is another blank and I push. He folds. Phew...

A few hands later, I raise to 3xBB with AJs. Mr. Any Two Cards goes all in. I think he might be trying to make a move on the ringer, but then I think through it. If he's paired, it's either a coin flip or I'm way behind big pairs. If he's AQ or AK, I'm dominated.

I'm in good shape stack-wise and decide to fold. It wasn't worth it at that time. He did get called however, and his AQ caught the nut straight on the river. Good laydown.

I'm in pretty good shape when a short stack goes all-in in front of me. I've got A9s and I call. He flips Crabs and I never improve. It was the start of the slide.

A few hands later, the same guy moves all-in. I look down at Crabs myself and I decided to call. He had gotten pretty short again. It's called behind me. We check down to find out the all-in guy had Speed Limit and tripped on the flop. Ugh.

Next, it's one of my favorite hands, Pocket 10's. I raise to T300 from the BB of T100. I get two callers behind me. The flop comes J-x-x. I bet another T300 to see where I'm at. The next player hems and haws before calling. I wonder if he's on a flush draw. The other guy folds. The turn is another blank. I put the guy all in. He calls with QJs. I get no help, he doubles through me and I'm hurting.

Two orbits later and I'm at T225. What the hell happened? I can beat these guys. I know it.

---

So we're back where I started. UTG. I tell them that if I like the first card, I'm pushing without looking at the second. The first card was a 7 of spades. Not quite what I'm looking for. I figure I'll fold and play the BB blind. The second card comes and it's the 7 of clubs. Hmmmm... JACKPOT?

I push and get three callers. Not quite what I was hoping, but when your all-in raises just T25, you're gonna get called!

The flop comes and the first card off is the 7 of hearts. I couldn't believe my luck. The next two were the Q and J of spades. Hmmm... straight draw, flush draw. Not what I was hoping to see. They check around.

The turn is a J, and suddenly my boat is nearly unbeatable. They check again. The river is a blank, and I pull the main pot my way telling them they can fight over a side pot if they want to bet. I'm not sure they believed me. It's a check around and I flip my 7's.

I'm back in the game! And I turn to the guy behind me and say, "Get ready to watch the greatest comeback ever."

Of course T900 doesn't get you far when the blinds are 200/100. I'm forced to fold my BB hand, so I'm down to T700. That's when I see Presto in the SB. There are three callers in front of me and I push all-in. Remarkably, I get just one caller, and he flip A9s.

I knew it would be a coin flip, I'm just glad it was only one player. The flop, however, disappointed. It's K-9-3 rainbow. That's just great, I'm now looking at a 2 outer. The turn is a blank. The dealer was sitting at the other end of the table with two people watching the cards come. When they erupt at the river, I knew lady luck was on my side. The 5 comes, and I'm up to T1800.

Now things are really looking up!

I hadn't mentioned, but Mr. Steal made it to the final 9 before busting out on a stone-cold bluff to Artillery. The machine gun had a HUGE stack. He'd only been playing poker for about a month, and it wasn't very good poker. But he had won a little money last time we played and he was doing very well tonight.

Then he started calling people down with A-high and the stack kept dwindling. By the time I got up to T1800, there were 5 left and I was getting close to Artillery's stack.

The blinds are up to 200/400 when I look down at Rockets. It's about time I started seeing some premium hands. Thankfully, it was raised in front of me. That's what I like to see when I've got American Airlines. I pushed all-in and my opponent was forced to call just T1000 more. He had it to call... he had a big stack.

When he flipped KTo, I knew I was way ahead. The first card off the flop was the A of spades. Unfortunately, the third card was a Q. Suddenly, he had two chances at 4 outs... the Jacks for the nut straight. It never came, and I was up to T4200. I was in third place out of 5... and I was in line to get my money back. I never would have imagined.

Then it happened. The two shorter stacks found themselves out of the game, and we were down to three. I caught some hands here and there and managed my stack very well. I was never the big stack, but I was never the short stack either. Somehow, the other two guys were going back and forth without me.

Opponent #1 was a young guy who played pretty solid poker. Opponent #2 was an older guy prone to outbursts (he's the one I sucked out with trip 5's earlier).

We got down to two when the young guy made an ill-advised all-in from the SB. He had just 76o. The old guy called quickly and showed KJs. The hand held up and I was now up to $30 in winnings. Who woulda thunk?

He got me down to about T2400 with 400/800 blinds when I found QJo. I pushed all-in and he called me with A5o. Hmmm... not what I was hoping for. But when the flop came Q-3-2, I was way ahead. He needed an A or a 4 that never came.

After a few hands, he was leading me T9200 to T5800 when someone suggested a split. I said the old guy had me at 2-to-1 and if I got closer, maybe we'd split. That's when we took a 5 minute break before blinds jumped to 800/1600.

When we started again, I decided to be a little more aggressive and started pushing him around. It only took a few hands before I had a slight chip advantage. Since he never suggested a split, I decided I wouldn't either.

Then the hand came.

I called out of the SB with Qd6h. The old guy checked and we saw of flop of Kd-Jd-9c. He checked and I checked behind him. The turn is the 6 of diamonds and suddenly, I've got bottom pair, a flush draw and an inside straight draw. I push all-in and he calls me with 9d3c.

I decided to push figuring the 6 could only have helped me. I honestly thought he'd fold. In fact, I was more than a little disappointed because he was a 2-to-1 favorite and if I lost, I'd have less than the BB left in front of me.

The card came, and it was a T. It took me a minute, but that's when I realized I had the straight and it was over. From the felt to $110. It was hard to believe.

I guess if all stereotypes were true, someone would have been heading to their gun rack to take out this Yankee ringer. Instead, I walked out of there with another notch on my belt.

I hope they invite me back again and again.

Maybe it had something to do with that old episode of the Brady Bunch I watched before I left for Europe. You remember the one. Oliver has just been introduced the Brady family through some odd, incestuous cult-like kid swap. As soon as he arrives, everything goes wrong. But then, his presence ends up resulting in almost the whole Brady clan getting to be in a silent movie (I'm still not sure why a film studio was making a silent movie in the 1970s, but that's not the point).

I wish my jinxing ended so well for my Brady clan.

Victim #1: Curzdog

That's Curzdog there in the middle, sandwiched in between John Fanning (one of the minds behind Napster) and a European dealer who looks quite good in a pair of tight pants. Moments after this picture was taken, he would run into pocket aces twice and leave the tournament out of the money.

Now, you might call that bad luck. I thought so, too.

I'd been keeping an eye out for Curzdog at the Monte Carlo tournament because I'd heard so much about him from DoubleAs. As it turned out, Curz and his fiancee were great people. My favorite thing to do was watch Ms. Curz when her man was in big hand. She'd put her hands on her cheeks like the "Home Alone" kid and hold her breath until the river fell.

So, I was unhappy that Curz got unluckly. I tried to put it out of my mind and did until the next night when I witnessed...

Victim #2

That's Scott. He's one of EasyCure's buddies. He played a stellar game for the whole week. His wife sweated him for most of the tournament as well. After playing a great game, he made a great play at the right time, and a bonehead called him on it.

That's when it occured to me I may have a problem.

If I needed proof, I got it within 24 hours.

Victim #3

That's Brandon Schaefer in happier times. Going into dinner he was the chip leader with just a few people left. Shortly after dinner...he finished in second place.

The Jinx

Now, the question: What do these three people have in common?

All of them, less than two hours before busting out of the biggest tournament of their lives...had dinner with me.

Each night, we all drank a little red wine, ate some ravioli Marsala, and chatted about poker, travel, and life in general. I usually ate quickly, opting to head back to the tournament area to work before the break was over. Nevertheless, I'm pretty sure my presence had something to do with these three fine men busting out of the tournament.

So, here's a rule:

If you're going into a big game, don't eat a meal with me before the cards get in the air.

What I'm afraid of...really...is being a jinx to myself.

I may have to start skipping more meals.

In fact, I was wearing clothes; a blue button-up shirt, black pants that hugged the crotch in a very European way, a black sport coat hung over the back of my chair. But clothes make little difference to nudity at the table. Even sunglasses wouldn't have covered my most private of parts.

To be sure, the stakes weren’t worth talking about. It was a tournament made up of journalists, marketing executives, and celebrity European players. It was a two-table No-Limit Hold’em freeroll. The winner would get $500, second place $300, third place $200. I was immediately a little sad with my table selection. While I knew a couple people, a majority of the players on Table 2 didn’t know much about the game. What’s more, two of my favorite European players, John Gale and Isabelle Mercier (she’s actually Canadian, but who is counting) were sitting at Table 1. I had a strong feeling that I was going to face a major suck-out early-on from one of the inexperienced players and go back to working on the blog.

We started with 1000 in chips. I played tight for several orbits, posting my blinds and folding to raises. On level three, with the blinds at 50/100, I found AK suited in late position and raised the bet to 300. The blinds, two inexperienced players both called the bet, putting 900 in the pot. The flop came out A7x with two diamonds (not my suit). Both blinds checked to me and I pushed in the rest of my stack (a little more than 600). I already knew what was going to happen. It was either going to be somebody who made two pair or somebody would suck out the flush. Sure enough, both players called my bet. I flipped up my top pair-top kicker and waited for the carnage to begin. The small blind turned over Q7 with no diamonds for second pair. The big blind turned up A4 with no diamonds. I didn’t smile like I wanted to. Instead I waited for the suck-out that never came and ended up raking my triple-up pot.

When the blinds got back around to me, I got moved to balance the tables. I feigned disappointment, saying “But, I’ve already established my table image here.” Truly, though, I was overjoyed. While Gale had busted out early-on, I was getting moved to the seat immediately to Mercier’s right. Again, I feigned disappointment. “All I need,” I said, sitting down. “You on my left.” She smiled a familiar half-smile she puts on at the table. It’s a smile that gives nothing away, but expresses just enough friendliness to scare you.

If there’s one unexpected benefit I’ve received from my new job, it’s the hours I get to spend watching World Class Players at the tables. I’ve learned more about the game in the past eight weeks that I did in the entire year previous. And if watching the players play has helped me, I don’t think I have to tell you what actually playing with them has done.

Within about 15 minutes, we’d wound our way down to ten players and we consolidated to one table. We re-drew for seats. I drew the three seat, again, immediately to Mercier’s right.

With a slightly below-average chip-stack, I knew I was going to have to start making some moves soon. When a tight-passive player came in for a call in EP, I figured her for some paint, but not a big pair. When it folded around to me on the button, I found a pair of deuces and raised for about half my stack, forcing out the blinds and getting me heads up. The lady called for the rest of her stack (I had her pretty well covered) and turned up A7o. I was a slight favorite, but she flopped her ace. Right read, wrong result.

That left me in an ugly chip position. With seven players left, I was down to just a few hundred in chips and I made a decision I rarely make. With a raise and three calls ahead of me, I pushed all in from the small blind with 67s.

The thought process, likely flawed, went like this: A raise and three calls ahead of me? Likely a bunch of big cards. I had to figure my six and seven were live cards. There was enough in the pot that if I did take it down, I would have enough chips to play the game until the end. So, I pushed.

Mercier said, "Good luck" and the flop came out seven-high. There was a side pot going, so I didn't know if I was winning, but I loved the flop. By fifth street, there was another seven on the board. My trips ended up besting AQ and a pair of tens.

So, I survived on my suck-out

I don't write all of this because it was a particularly interesting game. By all accounts, it was pretty silly. I write all of this as a prologue to what happened when we were down to five players.

It was folded around to me on the button where I found KTo. Mercier sat in the small blind and had been playing rather aggressively. I knew that if I folded or limped, she would move all in. The big blind was an inexperienced player who had survived this far, but had a much smaller chip stack. She'd tightened up a bit and I figured I could steal both blinds if I moved all in.

I paused, steeling my face for any obvious tells.

I moved my hands toward my chips.

And for as long as it takes to move one's eyes in a direction and back--maybe a quarter of a second--I took a glance at the big blind's stack.

Less than a second later, as I placed both hands behind my chips, I heard in my ear...

"Tsk, tsk, tsk."

I stopped.

What in the Canadian hell was that?

I peeked to my left and Mercier was almost imperceptibly shaking her head.

Tsk, tsk, tsk? What does that mean? It's so proper, and yet...so incredibly scary. It's like something a Hollywood hero says in jest just before he kills the bad guy.

And then I started laughing.

From across the table, my boss asked what was wrong.

"Um.." I said, still unable to control my laughter, "Isabelle scared me."

And with that, I folded my hand.

True to form, Mercier immediately pushed all-in and stole the big blind.

For half a second, I went from amused to embarassed. All it took was that one little glance at the big blind's chips. All these years of playing poker and I had just been read like a book. I'd broadcasted my naked tell about two feet to my left...so loud that Mercier felt bad for me.

And how did I know she felt bad for me? Well, for one, she warned me with her "tsk, tsk, tsk" advance warning system.

And second?

Well, second, as the dealer was pushing the pot, Mercier flashed her cards at me...

Big slick.

If I hadn't already been one of Mercier's biggest fans, I became one at that very moment.

***

I ended up bubbling in the tournament. The blinds went up pretty quickly and I ended up pushing in with a naked ace...against my boss' pair of aces. Later he would suck out on both Mercier and a photographer at the table to win the whole thing. He donated his winnings to a later tournament prize pool.

A final thought: One thing that impressed me about almost everyone with whom I played this past week: No matter the stakes, little or big, the pros played to win. That is, with the exception of helping out a lowly player like me from time to time, they played their cards like they would if they were playing in a high-stakes game. That really impressed me. It's not like the jokers online or in your homegame who feel like since they are only playing for 20 bucks, they might as well push in with J3o every time.

Next stop....Vienna Austria for the European-WSOP and some rambling with BadBlood.

There were 64 people entered in the tournament at the Coushatta Casino. The casino has a gorgeous poker room with 17 tables. My biggest complaint is that smoking is allowed. I can't stand cigarette smoke. Thankfully, smoking was not allowed on the tournament side of the poker room.

We were seated 9 to a table and I got seat 6 on table 12. My tablemates were rather non-descript. They all seemed like grizzled men in thier 40's or 50's except for one 30-something guy who seemed like he hadn't escaped his fraternity days. I was the youngest player at the table.

We all started with T7000 and blinds opened at 25/50. They would go up every 20 minutes with our first break after level 4.

Things started off well enough. I think it was about hand 4 when I looked down at American Airlines. I did my standard 3xBB raise and got three callers. It was a rainbow flop of A-K-4. I was first to act and I checked. I wonder if I could have gotten a little more out of everyone if I had put in a small bet. I was hoping someone else acted, but everyone checked.

The turn was a 7. The pot was T675 and I figured I'd throw out a bet to see if anyone was going to play with me. I tossed in T200 and got just one caller, the overaged frat guy who seemed to play every hand. The river was another 4 meaning the only hand that beat me was pocket 4's. I threw out T500 and after a little deliberation, frat guy folded.

I slid my cards to the dealer and the guy in seat 4 said, "What did you have?" I smiled and told him I had two cards. No one pressed the issue.

I actually found myself catching a lot of premium hands in the first couple levels. One time I got Big Slick and had a couple of callers. The flop was rags. I put a good sized bet into the pot and got two callers. At that point I decided perhaps I should slow down. The turn didn't help me and I checked. So did the other two. Maybe a big bet there wins the pot, but this was a table of calling stations. The river ended up filling another guy's nut flush.

I won a few more pots with the Hiltons and pocket Jacks. I only limped once with A6s, but saw the wrong color on the flop. Once I almost limped out of the small blind only to miss out on flopping two pair. Another time, I folded A5o, again missing out on two pair.

By the time we got to the break, I was sitting at T11400. There were 44 players left with the average stack at about T10200. I had played a handful of hands and won every hand I showed down. I only got into two pots that I ended up folding (that Big Slick and my A6 limp). I thought I was playing pretty well, but, frankly, with my premium hands I felt as though I should have had more chips.

After the break, the cards were cold. I couldn't find a hand to play. I kept reminding myself that I had to avoid marginal hands. I wasn't about to get involved in pots when I was holding a loser. I was still around the average stack and did not need to panic.

When we finished the 300/600 level we raced off our T100 chips. I was sitting at T12500. I had barely moved since the break. Suddenly blinds were up to 500/1000. I was praying I saw a hand soon. I was getting bored and tired. I had to fight those feelings or I was going to make a bad play.

Pocket 9's in the small blind helped me pick up a little pot. I was up to T15500.

That's when it happened.

I still feel like an idiot looking back at my play.

The dealer begins throwing out the cards and the second one he tosses me flips over, showing the 8 of spades. I quickly glance at my first card to see if I would have wanted that 8, but I see a 5 of clubs, so I wasn't disappointed. When the second card comes, I find the 5 of diamonds.

For some stupid reason, the superstitious part of my brain (that's about 75%) began to think that the exposed card was providence. I was supposed to get pocket 5's. Presto would be a magic hand!

I'm in early position and I raise to T3000. Everyone folds to the big blind who calls the extra T2000.

The flop comes K-4-2, two diamonds. Just one over card, not the worst flop I could see. My opponent checks. He's a younger player who moved to our table a few levels earlier. He generally played as though he was confused by the cards in front of him. I saw him chase a few pots only to fold on the river. In my mind, I could outplay this guy no matter what he was holding.

After the check, I threw T5000 into the T6500 pot. My opponent pauses before taking another look at this cards. After another moment of deliberation, he called. I immediately put him on the flush draw. I figured him for A-x of diamonds. The K of diamonds was on the board so I didn't put him on K's.

The turn was a 6. It was another overcard, but not one that necessarily scared me. My opponent checks again and it's decision time. If he's on the flush draw, like I believe he is, I don't want him to see another card. There's T16500 in the pot. My opponent has just T6000 left. If we're both pot committed, I have to push and just hope he doesn't have the K.

I push T7500 into the pot, and as soon as he calls, I figure I'm beat.

I show my 5's and say I guess I need a 5 on the river. He flips over K6 for two pair. There was no 5 on the river and I was down to just T1500.

Looking back, I suppose it makes sense. I'm not sure I make the first call preflop if I'm him, but that's his choice. He told me after the hand that he almost didn't call after the flop because he was worried he was outkicked. When he caught his two pair on the turn, he was no longer worried. Had he missed on the turn, he likely wouldn't have called. Does that mean I should have pushed all-in after the flop? Or perhaps I should have just checked the flop and if he bet, folded my small pair.

The bottom line is that I misread my opponent and it cost me.

I was just one hand from the T1000 big blind when I got dealt K4. I thought it was as good a hand as any so I threw my chips in. The table chip leader raised to T3000 so it was just him and I. I thanked him for isolating me figuring I'd at least have outs. Then he flipped pocket rockets. Good night, everyone! I was out in 30th.

I still wonder why I played those pocket 5's the way I did. I guess my explanation sounds logical, but there's just something wrong about it. If a small pair doesn't hit a set on the flop, it's no good, right? I'll just chalk it up to a lesson learned. I had a big enough stack at that point that I didn't need to outplay anyone. I just needed to let the cards do the work. I'll remember that for next time.

Here's how it will work:

• Starting chip stack will be T7000
• Blinds start at 25/50 and increase every 20 minutes
• The tournament is limited to 100 entrants
• Top 10 will be paid, 5th through 10th receiving $550
• The winner gets 50% of the remaining prize pool and an entry into the $15000 Tournament of Champions freeroll

This is just the kind of tournament I think I can take advantage of. My style tends to be tight/aggressive. I generally limit my starting hands and then press the pot when I hit a hand. In a shoot-out, I often don't have the time to wait for good hands and that's when I start giving chips away. With time on my side, I think my patient play will give me an advantage.

I'll have a tourney recap Saturday night or Sunday. Wish me luck!

Like I always do, I'd started playing before the tournament. Just to refamiliarize myself with the interface, I played a $20 SNG. After suffering a rather ugly beat on the second hand of the tournment, I never again rose above my starting stack of chips. What makes it all the more odd is that by some masseuse's stroke of fate, I found myself heads-up with about 500 chips to my opponent's 12K+. The circumstances of my unexplained rise to the money notwithstanding, the deficit I had to make up seemed overhwelming. So, imagine my surprise when I started playing some amazing heads-up play (by my standards) and found myself with a 3-1 chip lead.

That would be a pretty amazing story, I think, if I hadn't fucked it up and ended up losing the heads up match (I think it went on for half an hour).

Nonetheless, I left the little SNG thinking, "I'm playing well."

I rarely will admit that to myself, even if it's true. But, frankly, I was playing a good game last night.

The WPBT

Ever since my second WPBT win, I've not gone into a sanctioned event with my A-game. The online tournies have fallen at times when I was rather distracted and the live Holiday Classic...well, you already know that story.

But last night, I felt my game. Anyone who plays poker just knows it. The have their game on.

I looked around to see that my brother, Dr. Jeff, had bought in, as had a non-blogging buddy who said while he was not a blogger, he was more than a reader.

"I'm a commenter," he typed in chat.

It was like a Mt. Otis garage game with more than 150 people.

As the tournament started, I started feeling a deep sense for when my hands were good and when they weren't. I know that's how I should feel all the time. But, frankly, I haven't been feeling my game recently. Last night, I was.

On one particular hand, I raised either 2x or 3x the BB UTG with AK. I got a caller and when the flop came down KJ8, I bet out about the size of the pot. My opponent raised all in.

I called for time and thought. He might've called my raise with KJ, but I made him for a better player than that. He was in middle position and I don't know many decent players who would call an UTG raise in middle position with KJ. I thought for a moment he might have jacks, but I figured he would've re-raised pre-flop if he did. That left me with the only possible hand he could hold that would beat me: pocket eights.

As the seconds ticked away on my time clock, I checked my chips and discovered if I lost the hand, I'd be left with only 900 chips. I don't like playing from behind if I don't have to. I could lay down the TPTK and still have a decent playable stack. At the same time, I wasn't playing to sneak into the money. I wanted to win.

Pocket eights...did he have it? If he had pocket eights and put me on an king, I thought, he just would've cold-called my bet, let me bet into him on the turn, then pushed all in. Maybe not. Maybe if he had the eights he put me on exactly on AK and wanted all my chips right there.

After working through the scenarios in my head, I realized I just couldn't lay the hand down. If he had the eights, he had the eights. I called, he showed AJ for second pair, and never improved.

From the rail, he asked, "What took you so long?"

The answer: See above.

And so I felt good. The players were falling off like drunk birds on a wire and I honestly thought I had a shot.

So, imagine my surprise when I tripped and fell into a big pile of stupid.

Two hands, two mistakes

We inched nearer and nearer the money and I'd been getting cold-decked. The greatest danger in getting cold-decked is that when a marginal hand appears, it looks like the nuts.

KT is not the nuts. It's the balls. And they are old man balls.

I justified it my head as a blind steal.

Yeah, from middle position.

I don't even want to think about this hand, but in the interest of full disclosure, I raised 3x the BB from MP with KT. Middle position? I'm a loser.

Sure enough, I got a caller in the cutoff. The flop missed me, but I bet out anyway and he called. After that, I had to give up. I still thought I had a shot a the final table if I got away from the hand right there. I checked-folded to a bet on the turn and called that my one mistake for the tournament.

***

Although I haven't seen the inside of a strip club in ages, I'll admit right now in front of everybody, I've spent my share of time in the dens of -EV. And, frankly, one of my favorite things to do is just listen to a non-dancing stripper talk and tell her story, no matter how made-up and depressing.

So, yeah, I listen to strippers.

When the recent flame-war began over Stripper By Night's assertion that The Hammer was for losers, I did my best to stay out of it. Sounded to me like the Stripper was either trying to pick a fight or stating the blatantly obvious to her own peril. No need to get in the middle of that.

That's because we all know The Hammer, while powerful, is certainly the worst starting hand in hold'em and shouldn't be used indiscriminately. And by indiscriminately, I mean, in the waning moments of a a tournament where one is playing well.

Now, to be fair, I played The Hammer three times in last night's WPBT. The first two times, I won with it (although forgot to show it the second time).

The third time was a few hands after I played KT in middle position.

Why, oh why, did I have to find The Hammer under the gun? Why, oh why, did I feel obligated to play it?

Under The Hammer rules, I couldn't limp in with it, so I raised it up and, after the KT debacle I shouldn't be surprised that I got re-raised. The raise was pretty small but good sense (yeah, right) kicked in and I folded.

Maybe I should've listened to the stripper.

There. I said it. Flame away. I deserve it.

***

I got moved fairly quickly after that and with T2500 in chips, found KQ in spades on my big blind. The button made what appeared to be a blind steal. The SB called all-in and with barely enough chips to last two more rounds, I decided my odds were good enough to make the call.

The button turned up 44 and the SB turned up KJ. I felt good about my hand, but ended up in third place when the SB made a straight on the turn (the same card that gave me a pair of queens) and the button made a set on the river.

And that was it. I busted out in 34th place and almost 12 hours later, I still hate myself.

Congrats to David from Poker Medicine for winning my bounty, a brand new PokerStars jacket.

***

My commenting buddy ended up making the final table and finishing sixth place (nice job, Ted). I sweated him and the rest of the table until the final dramatic finish.

Mrs. Otis walked in just as the final hand played out, so I shut down the poker machine shortly after that and headed toward bed, wondering why I cared so much.

It wasn't the time investment. It certainly wasn't the cheap buy-in. And really, it wasn't the pride lost in not finishing better in the WPBT.

It was that I made mistakes. It would've been easier if I had lost set over set like BadBlood did. It would've been easier if, like Iggy, my opponent had sucked out a set with AT to beat an over pair. It would've been easier if, like Dr. Jeff, I'd made the right move at a pot and gotten beat on the river. It would've been easier if, like CJ, I'd played a vulnerable hand but put the exact right read on my opponent and lost anyway, A5 vs. A2.

Nope. I didn't get unlucky. I didn't get sucked out on.

Simply, I played a good game for two hours then threw it all away in two stupid, stupid hands.

Poker is a a lot like that needy girl you dated in college. You can do everything perfectly for months and months, but the girl and the cards have no memory. The girl asks, "What have you done for me lately?" And so do the cards.

Me? I wined and dined the cards, then in a vulnerable moment, went out and slept with their sister.

Hammer libido.

It's worse than a four-hour erection.

I'm going to seek medical help immediately.

These games have always been good to me in the past. The night before I entered another tourney on UB with 2300 players and made it to the "money".
In that case, it was a freeroll, the money was in "bonus dollars", and my big win was 50.

Cents.

0.50 BONUS cents.

I'll have to work it off. God help me.

So, anyhoo, it was one of these massive 5+.50 (my freeroll picked up the juice) that payed my way to the blogger meet in Vegas, and last night was another good rush.

618 people total and, as always, the rule in these things is ultra-tight and steal ALL the blinds. I raised every pot from the SB. I don't mean that to say MOST, but ALL. Until I got to the final table, I never let a blind slip by. Its amazing how often people will fold to a minumum raise from the SB. Then, in a ramarkable bit of awareness from the fish, if I was first to lead out with ANY bet UTG after the flop, its a guaranteed nuts-or-fold situation. Great stuff.

I made the obligatory, "please watch me" to Otis at 11:30. Then busted out in 3rd place. Payout was a relatively nice $382.50. Not bad for a fiver.
I'd recap the actual hands. But who gives a rip? I finished 3rd.

That actually makes up my LIVE tourney losses from the night before.

Otis, Bad Blood and I found a nice game at $75+5. I think there were 19 players at 3 tables. The blind structure wasn't bad at all, but with 3 tables Otis and I found ourselves at a 6 person table without the cards to compete. I was the second player out after my opponent caught a boat on the river and checked it to me. I made a buy effort, he called, I ate some very tasty chicken wings until the cash game started.

C'est la vie!

By the way, Otis is a great man. Send him a nice note. He's having one helluva year!

***

The story actually begins on Tuesday afternoon. I was off work for a couple days R&R. The sick baby was asleep and my folks weren't due in town for a few hours. I hadn't slept much in the past few days because of the aforementioned sick kid. But sleep wasn't really an option.

So, I figured I'd play a little $23/$2 PPM IV sat. I don't really know why I chose to play it. I hate those thinngs. All they do is win you an entry into another big tournament with a lot more people. The entry into the super sat is only $200, which if I really wanted to and didn't know it was -EV, I could buy in directly.

But I played anyway. Something to do for an hour or two. When it was over, I'd won an entry into the super sat. I'd played prettty well, considering the lack of sleep. I was disgusted to learn however that I'd won into a tournament for Tuesday night. My parents were going to be in town and I'd hoped to be in bed early.

By the time 10:15pm rolled around, I was zonked, half-asleep on the couch and feeling guilty for not going to bed with Mrs. Otis.

But, I thought, I'd play it out, bust out by midnight and go to bed.

When the table loaded up I groaned. Pro internet hero, David Ross, was in the one seat. I told my wife I might as well quit right then.

"Maybe you'll beat him," she said and slunked off toward bed, a tired, tired woman.

So, I sat back and played. My head was spinning because somehow I ended up playing the PPM IV super sat, the blogger table, and the BBJ table all at the same time. There is no way one man's head can stand to deal with those three fantastically different tables at once. But I did, because it didn't really matter anyway. Bust out by midnight and go to bed. That's the plan.

After two hours of play, I commented to the blogger table about how slow the tournament was moving. I was sitting just below the average stack. 218 players had started the tournament. The every-hour breaks weren't even cutting the field in half like they usually do.

By and by, the blogger table broke up, leaving me with only the BBJ table and the super sat to play. I was treading water. I got KK in my BB twice and got no action either time. Then I got KK in the BB again and somebody pushed all-in in front of me. Bust out by Midnight, I thought, and called. He turned up AQ and I knew what was going to happen. I saw the ace first.

I had him covered but barely. I started hoping I'd get the Hammer so I could go all in with pride and end it.

But what is that on the flop as well? Well, damn. That's a king. That give me a set and doubled me up.

Being in bed by midnight was going to be a challenge.

So, I dedicated myself to playing good poker. Don't make mistakes. Be aggressive, but be smart.

Somehow, by the time we were down to two tables, I'd worked myself up to the position of chip leader.

I wasn't optimisitic. Only the top six paid. Only the top three got entries into the PPM IV. I'm notorious for not being a closer.

And sure enough, I eventually choked.

With 11 players left, we were short handed. I'd established myself as being very tight and was playing even tighter. As such, my blinds were getting stolen right and left and I couldn't find a hand to defend. After losing about 6000 off my 40,000 stack, I decided to chip up a little bit and went for a steal with K8o.

The small blind (a very agressive player) cold-called. And the flop came nine-high and missed me completely. Still, I bet out and he cold-called. I should've given up right then. But the turn brought an 8 and I started thinking my hand might be good again. So, I bet out stronger and he cold called again. Uh-oh. I put him on JJ and when the river came and missed me, I gave up. Actually, I checked to him and he bet out a bet that was just small enough to call. He flipped up 99 for a set and I had just lost half my chip-stack.

For a period of ten minutes I hated myself. I could've folded into the money. Sixth place paid $1596 and would've been a nice return on my $25 investment. Now, I was forced to find a place to play and hope against hope that I could survive.

Down to ten-players, I found my spot. One person had called the 1000 BB in front of me when I found AQs. I raised him up and he cold-called. The flop came KKx. He bet into me. Somehow, I couldn't put him on a king. In fact, I put him on a middle pair. Still, with a diminished chip-stack and four players to the money, I couldn't force myself to put him to the test. I simply called. The turn came down beautifully, though. A beautiful ace.

He checked and I bet enough to leave me with about 11,000 in chips. He cold-called.

The river was a rag and I was prepared to push in when my opponent did so himself.

And so there I sat, either ready to go out in tenth or hope to survive until sixth place. And like the wuss am, I folded.

In retrospect, I still think he had a middle pair, but I couldn't be sure enough to risk going out so close to the money.

I was left third to last in chips and I hated msyelf more than I had up to that point.

What a waste of four hours.

Still, I had almost 12x the BB and wasn't in jeopardy yet. I vowed to fold until I found a big hand or got blinded off to the point where I had to fold or push.

Eventually, it came. Big slick. I didn't want to have to make any decisions or be on a draw, so I pushed in with it. And sure enough, got called by pocket nines again. Flop no help, turn no help, river...a beautiful king. I found myself pumping my fist a'la Moneymaker. I was surviving.

Our lone commenting railbird cheered me on and said that if the river was a woman I'd be having sex with her right then.

Still, I was in no position to place high in the tournament. I needed more help. It came in the way of big slick three hands later. Again, I pushed in. Again I got called by a middle pair. Again, the flop and turn were no help. Only this time, the river brought an ace. Fist-pump, railbird, survival.

Before I knew it, I was in the money. Six players left. One died and I was guaranteed nearly $2400. The another died. We were down to four. Fourth place gets nearly $4000, the remaining three get a seven-day cruise for two and a buy-in into the $7.2 million Party Poker Million to be later broadcast on the World Poker Tour.

And suddenly, I had hope.

I chipped up a little bit when the big stack called my big blind then bet into me on every street when I flopped top two pair. Then the foruth place guy went in with KJ and got called by AK.

No jack on the board and suddenly...suddenly...after more than four hours of self-loathing and fist-pumping...

I did it.

I won my way into a World Poker Tour event.

Wih three players left, we resorted to a series of all-in bets, during which time I caught lucky and moved up into second position from a distant third.

And the last hand before Party called the tournament over...

Well, yeah. I had the hammer and pushed all in with it.

That's what a poker blogger does after all.

This is what it looked like when it was over.

It's now almost five in the morning and two beers haven't calmed my nerves.

All in all, I played fairly well, survived an amateur mistake, caught lucky, and survived a couple coin flips. As I understand it, that's what it takes to win.

So, my afternoon boredom turned $25 investment has landed me an anniversary present for my wife (a seven-day cruise ain't that bad) and a chance to play for some real cash.

Ladies and gentlemen, 2004 is ending very well for this Otis. Even if I bust out first in the tournament this March, I expect 2005 to be a very good year.

How about that?

Naturally, I check. My opponent apparently can't get his money in the pot fast enough and he goes all-in. Jackpot!

I call and he flips over K2. There's no flush possibility, so I'm in pretty good damn shape. In case you're wondering, I'm a 96% favorite to win the hand. I think you all know where this is headed.

The turn is another K. Okay, fine. Trip Kings still doesn't beat me and I'm still a 77% favorite. In fact, he's only got 10 outs. Of course, the river is a J, and I I'm down to just 4000T.

I steal a few blinds and get myself within a double up of getting even again. That's when I get JTs. The flop is 7-8-9, two diamonds. I'm not holding a diamond. I push all-in and get called.

My opponent flips J6, both diamonds. In this case, I'm just a 57% favorite, but yet again, I've got my money in the pot with a dominant hand. The turn is a 6 of clubs. I'm now one card away from being right back in it, and I'm a 75% favorite.

I think you know where this is going...

The river is the A of diamonds, and I bust out in 2nd. At least I didn't embarrass myself!

One week from right now, we'll be at the tables in Vegas for the WPBT Las Vegas Holiday Classic. Can't wait to see you all there!

Ten dollars bought me all the beer and bar food I could consume. Though I had skipped dinner, I wasn't hungry. I ordered a beer and sat at a bar table, waiting until I could spot the tournament organizer in the growing crowd of increasingly drunk middle-aged men. A few young college hipsters lined the bar. I could tell that they weren't part of the charity crowd either. They were there to play poker.

Eventually, one guy's voice seemed to rise out of the crowd and I pegged him for the man I needed to talk to.

I walked up to him and said, "I got an e-mail from X."

"You're not a member of the local police department, are you?" he said, not joking.

This could've been construed as a joke. Just a few months ago, several local police officers had been caught playing poker on duty, much to the dismay of the people who lived in the neighborhoods on the cops' beat.

"No, I'm not." I thought maybe I could joke with the guy, but in this situation, I figured it would be similar to saying the word "bomb" while in line at the airport. It probably wouldn't get me thrown out, but it certainly would cause enough problems to make my evening difficult.

He told me to grab another beer and some food and we'd get started in a few minutes.

I sat back and watched the crowd mill through the tight space. Flat screen TVs were showing previews of the Monday Night Football game and an interview with Terrell Owens. T.O. makes my eye twitch. I turned away and watched the scantily-clad waitstaff make its way through the Grecian Formula and leers of the over-40 set.

The tournament was supposed to start at 8:30, but since the organizers were still setting up the tables, I figured it was going to take a little longer. I passed the time reading the graffiti on the walls and indulging a new player in a conversation about cold-callers.

"What's a cold call?" he asked.

"Doesn't matter," I said.

I told myself that if the tournament didn't start by 9:15 that I was going to have another beer to get my money's worth and go home to my wife and kid (where I should've been anyway). Then a little person walked through the bar and I couldn't help but think it was some sort of omen.

By 9:10 the organizers had figured out what they were doing and started sitting players at the tables. Twenty-seven people bought in. I drew the seat directly to the left of the guy who asked if I was a cop.

"At least I have you on my right," I said. He didn't respond.

We started with a rather arbitrary $4000T in chips and the blinds at $25/$50. I started in the small blind. Within minutes it was evident that several players at the table were very, very bad. A couple appeared to be pretty good. On the second orbit, I raised pre-flop with AQs and got four callers. The flop was rags and I folded to a sizable bet. My ace-high would've split the pot.

So, I sat back. It was only a matter of time before I got a good hand and could double up. That's all it took in this game. One good hand--played well--doubled up every time.

And so it came in the third level. I found 99 in the small blind. Four people called the big blind. I knew a raise form the small blind would drive out no one, so I called and waited for the flop. The big blind knocked the table and we saw the flop. It was gorgeous.

Nine-Queen-Rag.

This was it. I checked, knowing someone would bet out, even if they weren't holding the queen. The BB bet $200T and got three callers.

"I raise," I said, calming slipping $1000T into the pot.

"You're raising?" The BB seemed incredulous.

I only responded, "Yep."

I had played very few hands, established myself as a rock, and had just raised the bet by 5x. I expected to pick up the pot right there and if not, well, that's all the better.

The BB called and the rest of the field folded. I put him on KQ, but was ever-so-slightly worried he was holding TJ and was holding out for his straight-draw (it would've been a horrible call, but the table was making a lot of marginal plays).

In my mind I was repeating over and over, "Pair the board, pair the board, pair the board."

A queen fell on the turn and I couldn't have been happier. I was so happy, in fact, I checked again.

"All in," the BB said.

I thought for all of two seconds. I was sure of my KQ read now. He'd just made trips with a good kicker and figured to double through me.

"I call," I said and flipped over my boat.

"Good hand," he said and flipped over Q-7 offsuit.

I was taken aback. He called my check-raise on the flop with top pair and a seven kicker?

Before I could think, the dealer burned and turned the river.

Let me make one thing very clear: I don't like angry players. Emotional, screaming, cry-baby players make my balls itch.

But when I looked at the river and saw the fucking red seven sitting there, I found myself screaming, "Son of a bitch!"

I'm not sure what happened next. I sat stunned for sixty seconds. I know Q-7 shook my hand. I know that when I looked down at my chips I discovered that he had me covered. My mind wouldn't process how the guy called my check-raise on the flop then caught perfect on the turn and river. Only four cards could've saved him on the river and one came off.

It looked like a cash game was about to get started, but I still couldn't see straight. I found myself walking directly out of the bar, into the street, and to my vehicle. I don't remember the drive home.

When I got there, my wife was sitting on the couch playing solitaire with a deck I brought back from my last trip to Vegas. The TV played quietly in the background. My kid was already in his crib asleep.

At one point in the evening, one of the players spied my wedding ring and said, "Your wife must be really understanding."

"You don't know the half of it," I said.

As I plopped down on the couch and related the bad-beat story to my wife, I realized she was actually listening, actually caring about how it had ripped out my medula oblongata.

It was then I decided that it was time for a break.

Here's why: If my wife didn't understand, if she didn't care so much about how much I care about poker, then I might find a spiteful molecule in my body that could cancel out the guilt I'm starting to feel for leaving her alone so much.

But she does understand. She sees the absolute joy poker brings me and she shares in it. She's always been one to see potential where even I couldn't see it. She knows that, even as a hobby, poker is an important part of my life. She wants me to succeed.

That, friends, is love.

So, with little deliberation, I made a decision. After BadBlood's homegame on Saturday night, I'm going on a break. It will serve many a purpose. First, I've been running bad (I tend to slump in autumn, I've found). Second, I have a few writing projects that require more focus than I've been giving them. But foremost, I need to show my wife I love her as much as I do and as much as she's shown me that she loves me for who I am: A degenerate, poker-playing writer.

So, as of Sunday morning (about 2am, I figure), I'm hiding the bankroll and am not going to play live again for a month. I may dabble online from time to time, but my nightly three-hour sessions will not be a regular occurence.

On December 5th (after I wake up from what is sure to be a wicked birthday hangover), I'll re-begin my efforts to be a solid poker player in advance of the next weekend's blogger extravaganza in Vegas. With this break comes the danger that my game will be rusty when I reach Sin City.

However, I think the overall benefit of a mind-clearing, family-focused break will do everybody at Mt. Otis well.

Here's to hoping it helps.

***

At first, I thought I was going to be late. Start time was 8pm and I had forgotten if my shortcut through the county backroads actually worked. Whether my eagerness fueled the drive or my shortcut was actually effective, I made it on time--early even--and pulled into a dark parking lot. Cars lined the buildings and a fairly large crowd of people stood in small groups, talking quietly, smoking cigarettes, sizing each other up through the milky light of a nearby convenience store.

I found a parking spot in a dark corner of the parking lot and parked Emilio. Something was wrong with my nervous system. It had regressed back to the first times I played live cards. My leg was bouncing, my fingers were tapping, and I had a pleasant tightness in my chest. I remembered this feeling. Women do this to me. The first breath of casino air does this to me. It's fear wrapped in sex, wrapped in risk.

I walked through the darkness to an open door in the back of the building. At first I was taken aback by a lone ugly table in the entryway. This is what I showed up for? I'd heard this was supposed to be a nice room.

There was a line snaking out the door. I took a spot in it and craned my neck to try to see the host. He was sitting at the head of the line, marking names off the reservation list, taking cash as he went.

Eventually, the line led me into the main room, where I was pleased to see five beautiful, 10-seat tables, fantastically appointed, and beckoning me to sit down.

I made my way to the front of the line, pulled out my $80, and gave my name.

The host looked at me from his seat. "Otis? You were referred by BadBlood, right?"

"That's right," I said, spotting BadBlood across the room talking to Teddy Ballgame.

In a few short seconds, my money disappeared from my hand into some unseen recepticle.

"Thanks, Otis. We'll start in just a few minutes."

***

Fifty people signed up for the $75+$5 NLHE tournament. Forty-nine showed up. I drew Table 2, Seat 10. I sensed there might be an organizational problem when a discussion began about which seat was which. I sat down in the ten-seat and waited for someone to figure it out. There were some obviously casino veterans there, so I had a hard time believing when the table agreed to seat itself counter-clockwise. I thought for a moment about protesting, but I didn't want to walk straight into an unknown game and start playing table captain. So, I took the one-seat, which isn't the ten-seat, but apparently plays one on TV.

After a tiresome discussion about chip values, the host stood near the front of the room and addressed the players.

"Alright, if the cops show up, keep playing. There's no money this room. You're playing for points and pride."

From across the room, sosmeone asked, "So, what's our rally point if we have to bug out?"

Obviously, whoever it was didn't understand we wouldn't be "bugging out." I think he just wanted to say "rally point."

As the preliminaries continued, I sized up my table. It was a good mix: a couple young kids, the requisite talker, a couple of guys in their mid-40's (one of whom had driven almost four hours from the coast), a lady, the ubquitous Big Man, and a thirty-something goateed guy.

Several of them seemed like solid players and I wanted to play as best I could. I vowed to either raise or fold for the first two levels. No limping.

As it turned out, it wouldn't be a hard vow to keep.

***

The first hand at our table was quad sevens. I didn't feel good about my chances.

I developed a rockish reputation, but not of my own will. In the first three levels, the best hand I was dealt was AJo. That hand was a misdeal.

For three levels, I played no hands out of the blinds, raking just one pot when the J6 in my unraised BB flopped top pair and I bet out.

Midway through level two, the lady at the table turned to me and said, "Do you work for...." she finished the sentence with the name of my workplace.

"Yeah, that's me," I said. I was a little worried someone might recognize me and think I was...

"He's here doing an undercover investigation," someone joked.

Yeah that's what I was worried about.

Instead of protesting, I simply lifted my lapel and asked the four-seat to speak a little more clearly in my direction.

After three levels, I was up all of $3 from my original starting stack of $85. After racing off the whites, I had $90.

This was not going well

***

After a short break, we returned to play with the blinds at $5/$10 and threatening to go up at any moment. My stack looked flacid and small. The lady at the table was shortstacked and pushed in with jacks, getting two callers. Her hooks held up and she became the table bully.

After the guy to my right busted out, The Lady started trying to exploit my rockish-reputation. I had to play along. When she raised my BB from the SB, I had to fold my 95o (a hand I saw way too many times last night).

As it turned out, it might've been that hand that kept me in the game so long.

On the next orbit, the table folded around to us again and she raised my BB again. I peeked at my cards and saw Big Slick. As short as my stack was (about $65 now), I had no choice but to push in.

The Lady went in the tank, then began to consult with a lady friend who had sidled up and sat down at an open seat at the table. At first I thought about reminding them it was one player to a hand, but I discovered I could hear their conversation and they were having serious trouble deciding whether to call me. I decided I wanted the call.

When Team Estrogen finally decided they were calling, I figured I'd have two overs to a medium pair. Instead, The Lady turned over AJo. She was dominated.

The flop came QTx. The turn was an eight. Then the river...

I had actually turned my head to look at The Lady and had to whip my eyes around when the table erupted.

The river was a jack. At first, some of the players were cheering for The Lady's good fortune at hitting her jack. The Road Gambler at the table corrected them, so I didn't have to. The jack made my straight and I doubled up.

Two hands later I picked up TT in late position, raised the amount of the BB's short stack, and got no callers. I sat at about $140T when we re-drew seats.

Okay: Here's my petty short-stacker's complaint:

I believe in keeping even tables and consolidating tables as soon as you can. That wasn't happening nearly as much as I would like. I started to get a little hot when we were down to 16 players and we were still playing on three tables. The blinds were already going up every 20 minutes. Playing five and six-handed when we could've sat two tables of eight was just silly.

Okay...end complaining. After all, the tournament made up for in good, nice players and prize money what it lacked in a clear sense of a plan on how it would proceed. Maybe I'm just too much of a stickler for the details.

Eventually, we convinced the host to let us break to two tables. We sat eight at each. The blinds were up to $15/$30 and my stack was down to $90. I didn't have long. By the time I had a hand even close to playable, I was down to my last $30. I pushed it in with AQs. It held up and I took down the blinds.

I still didn't have long.

As the orbit came back around to me, I looked down and found KQo UTG. I pushed in again. Everybody folded around to the BB. The Road Gambler thought for about a minute before calling with J5s. He caught his jack on the turn. I caught my king on the river, but it happened to be the king of diamonds, filling in my opponent's flush.

I was out in 13th place, which somebody reminded me paid the same as 50th.

To whoever that was....up yours.

***

I wandered the room for a moment. There was a full $1/$2 NL game going and a full $2/$4 limit game running, as well. Rather than walk out a 13th place loser, I wanted to sit and win some of my entry fee back. With no seats available, I walked to the store next door, bought a beer, and walked back toward the games.

By the time I got back, the tournament had collapsed to one table and a seat had opened up at the $2/$4 table. I bought in for $50, sat down, and thought about how I played in the tournament.

In short, I decided that I played every good hand I was dealt the best I possibly could have. I laid down trash when it was dealt. The only regret was the memory of a hunch. I had 89s in middle positition and felt like I should limp in with it. My good sense got the better of me, though, and I laid it down. An eight and nine fell on the flop. Another nine fell on the river. Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

As I worked my way into the loosey-goosey $2/$4 game, I found myself sitting to the right of a psychiatrist. He was the tightest limit player I'd ever seen, but he talked a lot. Since he wouldn't play his cards, I decided to chat him up.

"I feel emotionally vulnerable right now," I said.

He smiled.

"My dad never took me to the circus," I continued.

"That can lead to a lot of problems," he said.

"I'm still scared of clowns," I said, tossing in a raise. "And every time I see a bear on a bicycle I fall crying into the fetal position."

That made him laugh and it made me remember that, at its roots, poker is a social game.

Within an hour, the story of the room was of another lady player who took her literal chip-and-a-chair status and turned it into enough chips to chop first place for a cool grand.

***

I rolled down the windows as I cut back coss the county line on Highway 124. I sucked down the autumn air as it filled up the cabin of my vehicle. My pocket was a little lighter, but I felt good about how I played. Consider it a lesson, I told myself.

Sometimes I feel like a more interesting personality when I'm driving alone at night. People who drive alone at night usually have somewhere mysterious and interesting to go.

This night, that feeling had actually been real.

And as I returned in the darkness (unscathed, to my wife's relief), I felt good.

And I didn't even if to call on BadBlood to save my life.

It's the showing up in person thing that tends to be a little disconcerting. I've successfully avoided being in the same room with Sparks when he comes in. Still, I feel my masculinity draining out of me whenever he's in a 100-yard radius.

Perhaps the spookiest appearance, however, was when Chubby Checker showed up. He was playing the Frankie Avalon character in a traveling production of "Grease." Chubby was a trip. He wandered the office, grabbing employees like G-Rob and saying, 'Get your picture with me."

When he discovered a young red-headed co-worker who carries with her a couple of ample assets, Chubby spent an inordinate amount of time talking about himself and alluding to things you'd rather not think about involving Chubby. After he invited her to the after-show party, he signed her an autograph addressed to "My Red Velvet Lady."

Spooky, I say.

But today as I walked by the keeper of all things promotional, she called out "Otis!" I turned toward her and saw a WPT poker chip flipping toward me in the air.

Now that's a good piece of promotional material.

So, I've spent my day trying in vain to perfect the chip knuckle-roll.

This is what I do for a living.

***

In a few hours I'm going to hop in Emilio the SDV and head to a nearby suburbian office complex where 50 people are buying in for $75+$5 a piece in an unquestionably illegal poker tournament. I haven't played with these folks before and have no idea how good or bad they are. BadBlood has played in one of their games before, but got no cards that night.

I briefed Mrs. Otis on the tournament a week or so ago, so it came as no surprise to her this morning when I told her I'd just be stopping by home briefly before heading out to play tonight.

"Is G-Rob going with you?" she asked, still sleepy from a long night up with L'il Otis.

"No, he can't make it tonight."

G-Rob is running a 10K tomorrow and didn't feel like dropping $75 on an unknown game.

"So, you're going alone," she said. I knew what she was implying. I'm an average-sized guy with few muscles and a proven inability to defend myself in a fight. I'd explained to her previously that this game wasn't rough-and-tumble road gamblers, but a group of professionals from around the region who liked to play. Apparently she had forgotten that part.

To pacify her I said, "No, I won't be alone. BadBlood will be there."

This should've been enough for this very reason: A female friend of mine met BadBlood one night. A few weeks later I told her BadBlood was going to be at my homegame, and she responded, "BadBlood with the guns?"

To which I could only meekly look at my pathetic pythons and say, "Yes, BadBlood with the guns."

Where I am no sloth, I'm sadly unfit. The only exercise I get is curling my kid when he's in his car seat (and I'm getting some definition, bucko). So, after offering that BadBlood would have my back against a vicious group of accountants and doctors, I thought she would smile.

Instead, she shrugged as if to say, "Well, I wish G-Rob were going."

This is what's sort of funny about the situation. G-Rob is an exceptionally big guy (as he would say in a very public forum one day, "freakishly large in every way").

But, a few years ago if I had said I was going somewhere with G-Rob, my wife would've had a look of disdain and panic on her face. See, G-Rob and I tended to get in trouble together. While it was rarely more his fault than mine, Mrs. Otis' perception was that G-Rob was often responsible for leading me astray. Sure, it happened (I'm still pissed about a drink getting replaced with straight vodka and a literal body slam), but I was usually responsible for my own indiscretions.

For instance, late one night in an Atlanta, GA club, bohemoth G-Rob was making his way through a crowd of people when he accidentally bumped a 5'4" punk in a black leather jacket. The punk mouthed off to G-Rob who sized him up and summarily dismissed him. I was having none of it, though. I bellied up to punk and asked him what his problem was with G-Rob. Again, I'm a lover, not a fighter and I still don't know what led me to go all redneck on the guy. My fault. Had it not been for G-Rob, I probably would've ended up in the hospital.

However, in the past year, my wife has become G-Rob's biggest fan. I'm sure that's partly because our wild-night lifestyle has calmed down a little bit as he and I have tried to work our way into games all over town.

Still, it's funny that my wife thinks I need a bodyguard and she's chosen the one guy she wouldn't have picked a year ago.

But, she loves me and she has taken to encouraging my poker playing. For that, I can't complain at all.

Maybe if BadBlood comes over tonight before the tournament and does a few reps of bench presses, Mrs. Otis will feel better about me heading out into the unknown.

1) Austin Kearns will put his entire table on tilt, quintuple up before the first break, and then proceed to launch into a Andrew Dice Clay-ish chat-bar diatribe that will propel him to victory.

2) BadBlood, bouyed by his BoSox victory, will finally break out of his bubble slump and cash.

3) Star-gazing players, enamored with uber-blogger Wil Wheaton, will start chip-dumping to the famous guy just so they can say they got busted by somebody famous.

4) Al Can't Hang will play his maniac image to his advantage, pretend to be sober, and make the final table.

5) Iggy will win. Again.

Now, the top five reasons I won't make it to the final table:

1) How could any Missouri native in his right mind concentrate on poker when the St. Louis Cardinals are facing the Rocket in Game 7 of the NLCS?

2) I will be one of the people chip-dumping to Wheaton so I can say I lost to a famous guy.

3) CJ's brother, Lefty, has signed up and tends to put me on tilt any time we're together. One of our meetings ended up with me hiding under a sweetgum tree near my home. After a search party launched itself and circled the neighborhood, a friend eventually found me and reported that I would only say of my disappearance, "I was on the property. I was on the property."

4) I've been thinking about going to Vegas so much that I'm not sleeping well. When I do sleep, I'm dreaming about losing to one-outers on the river. Restless, I am.

5) The Otis Choke

Nevertheless, I'll sit down at 9pm tonight on Poker Stars, arrange necessities around me, and bannish all other Mt. Otis denizens to other rooms.

Sign-ups are available until right before the tournament under the private tournament tab.

Head over to Guinness and Poker for details and the tournament password.

Took 4 hands for the table to see the first flop… I raised on the button with A-Q off, and got re-raised. I called, the flop was garbage. He bet 100 and I folded. Not worth it. It took 6 hands for us to see a turn. I’d say our table is tight.

Big Slick in early position. Raise 3x and called. Flop is K-T-J. I bet 75 and the guy comes over the top all-in. I fold. Not worth it. He claims KJ. It’s mstephen, same guy who beat me last time.

I’m already down to 1175... Only really played two hands, AQ and AK, both times forced off. Could be a long night (um… I mean short tourney).

I limped with suited connectors and, of course, got raised. That’s it, time to play the only strategy I know. Fold, fold, fold.

Hammer in the BB. Everyone folds… HAMMER wins.

I just realized if the table is going to be very tight, I need to adjust and become more aggressive. The most aggressive player is winning the table right now. Too bad I’m not a good “aggressive” player.

First big hand and a flush beat a straight. Elguacho doubles up at mstephan’s expense.

I raise 3x BB with A-T s and everyone folds.

We’re already up to 25/50 blinds and I’m down to 1115. Hardly a hand worth playing at this point.

Raised with K-J o in late position and everyone folded.

Pocket 4’s in the BB and short stack limps in front of me. I figure I’ll put him all in, but it’s raised by the small blind and I fold. Flop is Q-3-4 and I’m pissed. Of course, short stack had pocket Q’s so the small blind saved me money!

A-8 s, and I raise… small blind calls. Flop is red, I’m looking for black. He goes all in and I fold.

A-T s again and I raise 3x BB. They all fold.

K-Q s and I raise from first position. Everyone still folds. I just raised 2x BB.

I’m down to just 940. I haven’t really won a hand. Blinds are at 50-100 for just 4 more minutes, then 75-150. Ouch. Gotta make a move.

Down to 765 with blinds only and we’ve hit the point where it’s all in or nothing for most players. I just folded K-Q o in first position because I wasn’t willing to go all in with it. Flop would have missed me so I don’t feel so bad.

BB, and it’s 8-3 o, great hand. Amazingly I get to check it through, but the flop is nowhere close and I can’t bet it. After my pathetic 9-5 o SB hand, I’m down to just 540.

One entire circuit, one face card (Jack), no connectors, no two of the same suit. Ouch.

Q-3 s in the big blind and it’s raised in front of me. I have to fold.

Rockets in the SB, I better double up!!! Instead, I triple up!! Flop doesn’t help them, and it’s so fast, I don’t know what they had. I’m up to 1320.

Just folded A-8 s on the button when it was raised and re-raised in front of me. BB then went all in. Glad I folded.

First break. There are 47 people left, and I am in 42nd place with just 1020. I need to make another move. Maybe I’ll get American Airlines again.

A-2 o in first position and I briefly considered moving all-in. I’m not that stupid, am I?

9-3 s in BB. Ugh. I’m down to 720.

5-3 o in SB. Double Ugh. I’m down to 570.

Another circuit with no face cards. I’m about to go all-in with nothing and pray.

Mstephan just made a HUGE move when his KK beat QQ and AK with 2 all-ins. He’s up to 8790.

6-6 in the BB and I’m going all-in. Except everyone folded.

3-3 in the SB and I’m going all in. I get called by J-10 and a J on the turn does me in. Had to make the move. I’m out in 37th. What a terribly boring tournament for me.

In the bathroom, one urinal had been ripped off the wall and there weren't any paper towels in the dispenser. The restaurant had certainly seen better days. Me? I'm trying to work up my confidence, holding my whang and going over hypothetical hands in my head.

When I came back to the bar, G-Rob was interested in the TV. Moreover, he was interested in the tanned, buxon women gyrating in bikinis.

"This is a good show," he said. We'd been talking about novelist Christopher Moore. G-Rob's remark reminded me of something Biff, or better yet, Coyote, would say.

One of the Hispanic guys said, "Caliente."

I don't know why I felt the need to translate, but I looked at G-Rob and said, "Hot."

He raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Indeed," and went back to watching. When the announcer's voice went through a machine gun rattle of words ending with "Caliente!" G-Rob looked suprised.

"Oh, the show is called Caliente?" He though the guy had just been commenting on the women.

My phone rang and I noticed it was BadBlood on the line. He was calling to give us the name of the suite where the tourney would be held.

G-Rob and I finished our beers, said "Gracias" to the guys at the bar, and headed for the door.

"Caliente," I said.

***

BadBlood had extended the invitation a couple of weeks before. I'd been dying to make it, but was unsure if I could due to baby-producing factors. When I finally got the all-clear, I mentally prepared for a good showing.

The set-up:

26 players in a hotel conference room.
$50 buy-in with no rebuy.
Four tables covered in Green table cloths.
A couple cases of beer
$100T in chips
50 minute levels beginning at $1/$2 with a ten minute break at each increase
Top five finishers get paid.

The room was largely full of unknowns to me. I knew Teddy "Tight" Ballgame, the Rankster, Emerald City Derrick, Greenwood Phil, Tatwood, G-Rob, and BadBlood. The other 18 players were wild cards. I sized them up one by one, judging each card-holding book by its cover.

I got set the Diamond Table with this motley crew:

Seat One: Brad A-hat (not short for asshat, by the way)
Seat Two: David the Mute
Seat Three: Danny C-Gar
Seat Four: Otis (Otis LOVES drawing this seat by the way)
Seat Five: G-Rob
Seat Six: Mr. I'm going to get creamed by BadBlood's quads so soon that I didn't have time to properly introduce myself.
Seat Seven: BadBlood
Seat Eight: Stevie Broomcorn

I already knew BadBlood was the table favorite. I knew G-Rob would be loose, even though I told him to play tight. I figured Brad A-Hat and David the Mute for solid players and the rest of the guys to be middle of the road to poor. My pre-game predictions had BadBloood, Brad A-Hat, and me leaving the table alive.

I was wrong.

***

Memorable Hand #1--

During the first level, I'd done my best to establish myself as a tight player. I'd done everything I could, including proclaiming "TIGHT!" every time I raised (times that were very few and far between). I was within seconds of breaking out the old "tight as a 16-year old cheerleader" line when I looked down and saw pocket jacks.

"Raise."

I barely had the words out of my mouth when G-Rob announced, "Raise."

Maybe he hadn't heard me. See, I had said, "Raise." By that I meant, "Get the hell out of my way, because I'm tight, see, and when I raise I have a hand that will make yours look like a kid who pissed his pants at recess. Move over."

Before I could get a read on G-Rob's re-raise, Brad A-Hat had called. I pondered the hand for a couple of seconds and simply called. I put G-Rob on a big ace (likely AK) and Brad A-Hat on tens.

The flop was as ugly as it could be. Three hearts (I didn't have a heart) and an ace. I thought for a moment about betting out and trying to scare off the competition, but it was early and I hated the hearts and an overcard.

I checked, G-Rob bet, A-hat called, I folded.

The turn was a blank and the river brought another heart.

G-Rob turned up A8o. A-hat turned up A9o. A-hat's nine was a heart and he raked the pot.

To review: G-Rob re-raised with a naked ace and A-Hat called a re-raise with a naked ace.

I thought about turning to G-Rob and asking him if he remembered me telling him to play tight, but decided to wait for another time.

Later, G-Rob forced David the Mute (a man who in an earlier hand didn't re-raise on the river with the stone cold nuts) to lay down a hand and later claimed to be holding 37o. I still don't believe it.

Memorable Hand #2--

One thing that's not all that fun is to establish yourself as a rock then immediately find pocket aces. That's what I did.

I wasn't entirely sure how to make the most of the hand and immediately cursed myself for a raise that seemed too small the minute my chips hit the felt. I double cursed myself when I got two callers, Brad A-Hat and Danny C-Gar.

The flop was ragged as hell and ten-high. I loved the flop until A-Hat announced he was all in. C-Gar folded and it was to me. If I called him and lost I would be nearly out of chips.

I went in the tank and thought. First, A-Hat established early on that he was happy to almost play Any Two Cards. It had served him well on a couple of hands but in recent minutes he'd been floundering and was running out of chips. Second, an all-in bet seemed a little excessive if he'd flopped a set of tens. That left two possible hands as far as I was concerned. I fgured he either had AT or had flopped a ragged two-pair.

I returned from the tank, counted out more than 2/3 of my stack and called.

A-Hat turned up K6o for a king-high stone-cold, risking his tourament life bluff that ran smack dab into my two aces...which held up beautifully.

BadBlood started laughing at me for taking so long to call with aces.

I reiterated, "Tight," but in my head I was thinking...caliente.

Memorable Hand #3--

I knew it would happen eventually, although I had been purposefully avoiding it. I got into a hand with BadBlood.

Not too long after my pocket aces, I found snowmen, 88, in middle position. I raised (altough not very big, as I recall) and BadBlood cold-called.

The flop: JJT.

I believe I checked the flop, fearing that BadBlood might've cold-called with AJ or AT on the button. He checked as well. The turn was a blank. The river, another jack.

At this point, I don't figure BB for a ten, jack, or big pair anymore. He woud've made me pay for that. So, there I sat with jacks full of eights. It's not a hand I'm willing to risk my tourney on, but I start to think it's good and bet it. BB called and turned over pocket nines, the only hand I didn't consider that could've beat me.

He said he'd put me on a big ace. I couldn't tell if my eights scared him or confirmed what he probably believed all along: I was playing too tight for my own good. If my preflop raise had been a little bigger and I had been aggressive on the flop, I think I could've won the hand.

With that, I went into the second break with nearly the same amount of starting chips I had to start the touramament.

The third level began with...

Memorable Hand #4--AKA, How I Own Super:System but apparently don't apply it in my play

By this point, Greenwood Phil had been moved to our table and to A-Hat's seat. Phil is a helluva player and one of few in the room I believed could tangle with BadBlood.

I was enjoying the tournament and while I wished I had doubled up by the third level, I figured I could make a move shortly as some stacks started to dwindle.

Enter...the Hilton Sisters.

I found them under the gun and raised. Looking back, I think my raises were much too small to garner any respect. Online, I always feel very comfortable with the size of my raises. With the blinds at $5/$10, I should've raised at least to $30, but if memory serves, I only bet $20.

Greenwood Phil called, which worried me a little. However, as he had only called , I figured him for jacks or perhaps a big ace. Danny C-Gar--without hestiation--re-raised.

For a moment, let's consider what Brunson has to say about pocket queens. First, while he groups AA, KK, and AK together for a chapter and other pairs together for another chapter, he talks about QQ on its own. Why?

"...because it's a particular hand that deserves sepcial treatment," he writes.

Here is the wisdom of Brunson: He'll raise from almost any position with QQ, because it is, in fact, a good hand. However, if he is re-raised he'll simply call. And if he has raised and someone wants to put him all-in, he likely won't do it unless it is an unusual situation.

Here's what he has to say about going all-in pre-flop with QQ:

"If you get called you'll usuallly be up against AA, KK, or AK...in which case you'll be a big dog or just a small favorite. You can pick a better spot than that to get all your money in." --Doyle Brunson

Most people see Brunson as a hyper-aggressive player with a hyper-aggressive strategy. However, the above statement is fairly conservative.

And so there I sat. Dannt C-Gar hadn't won a great many hands and those he had won hadn't been too spectacualr. When someone asked him why he had brought a cigar that sat near his chips, he'd seemingly been honest. "Just to look cool, I guess," he said.

At one point I had asked if he planned for it to be a victory cigar. He had said no.

Still, there I sat with my raise on the board, a call from a strong player, and a moderate re-raise.

Doyle would've cold-called amd hoped for the queen on a the flop. If it didn't come, he'd play conservatively until after the turn.

And what do do?

Of course. I did what any novice to intermediate player would do in such a situation.

"I'm all in," I said sounding as confident as I possibly could.

I figured Greenwood Phil would lay down his hand. He's smart enough to know that I rarely bluff and when I do, it's not going to be against a solid player like him. But Danny C-Gar, I was worried about.

C-Gar went in the tank. I immediately started wishing he'd just fold. Reality started to set in.

C-Gar awoke and announced, "Okay, I'll play."

Before he had a chance to turn over his hand, I said "I think we're going to be racing."

Sure enough, there it was: AK of diamonds.

BadBlood tired to offer some drama by becoming Mike Sexton and saying something about the classic race. But I knew before the flop hit that I was done.

The ace came off on the flop. An overkill king came on the turn. Neither of my two outs materialized and I was bounced.

And so there I was. Out in 17th place, way out of the money, and looking for some reassurance.

In my head I said, "That's poker. He gambled and won." I looked to BadBlood to tell me the same thing, but he didn't.

I rapped the table with my knuckles and stood up in search of a side game. I found one quickly and lost $20 in a titlting hurry to a guy who looked like Amir Vahedi.

I stumbled out into the lobby for some fresh air but didn't find any. I went back into the conference room and looked for someone to tell me I got unlucky. But no one did.

It was only on the way home that Brunson started ringing in the back of my head. What was that he said about Queens being a different kind of pair?

I barely had time to say hello to my wife and kid before running to pull Super:System off the nightstand.

Yep, there it is in black and white: Otis, you're a damned fool for playing your queens like that.

I laid awake most of the night, running the hand over and over again in my head. Had I simply called the raise, I would've folded when C-Gar bet the ace on the flop. I still would've lost but I would've not lost everything.

My poor play resulted in my buy-in becoming a $50 lesson in how to remember what I've read.

Now, I'm 45 minutes from beginning the Monty Memorial.

I'm hoping thic post served as some sort of catharsis and I can get back on the horse. Otherwise, I'm going to declare myself Poker Bitch and find some nice hiatus hole.

Caliente, indeed.

[CJ UPDATE #2]

By now, I'm guessing most of you have received the "make-good" e-mail from Pacific Poker. If you didn't here it is:

Dear [CJ],

This is Mike Herea, the Promotions Manager here at Pacific Poker.

I would like to humbly apologize for the non-appearance of the
guinessandpoker.com tournament which was scheduled for August 22nd 2004. We experienced unforeseen circumstances which have stopped us from starting
this event. I would like to ensure you however that we are doing our
best to make sure that there will not be a repeat.

I’m aware that you were scheduled to play in this tournament and as a
gesture of goodwill and to show how much I value you, our member; I have
credited your account with a $25 bonus – so don’t wait logon today and
play.

The good news is that the guinessandpoker.com tournament will be
rescheduled and you will be updated – more details to follow.

Again please accept my sincere apologies and thank you for your
anticipated understanding in this matter.

Good Luck at the tables and play well.

Yours faithfully,

Mike Herea
Promotions Manager
Pacific Poker

Additionally, Iggy reports Pacific will add $500 to our private tourney prize pool when we reschedule. Nice to see real action on their part.

[END CJ UPDATE #2]

[OTIS UPDATE #1]

Here's my response to Pacific's "sorry" e-mail (below):

Fernanda,

As I'm sure you know by now, The Monty Memorial was a 75-person tournament in memory of a noted poker writer's pet cat that passed away recently. While that may seem silly to you, the tournament and its origins meant a lot to the people who played.

If that doesn't help Pacific understand, perhaps the negative public relations will. Beyond being fans of the tournament organizer, more than 2/3 of the participants maintain websites about poker. Some of the participants maintain the most noted poker "blogs" on the intertnet, with readership in the thousands every day.

A majority of the paricipants did not have accounts with Pacific prior to the tournament organization. I think it's safe to say that most of them will not have Pacific accounts after last night's debacle.

Like any customer who has been wronged--no matter how unintentional the mistake was--we require an explanation of what happened. The tournament was set up weeks in advance and resulted in dozens of people establishing accounts with your business.

So, here's what we want to know: What happened? Why did it happen? What are you going to do to fix it?

Sincerely,
OtisDart

-----------------
My phone rang at 9:30am. The Privacy Director function saved Pacific Poker from an ear-reaming. I checked my e-mail a little bit later to find this:

...This is Fernanda a Member Support Representative at Pacific Poker.

I have tried to contact you today (08/23/04) in regards to the
Restricted Tournament but unfortunately I could not get through as the
privacy director you have on did not recognize the caller.

First of all, please accept my sincere apologies for the cancellation of
the tournament mentioned above, which will, unfortunately, be postponed
until further notice. I would kindly ask you to keep an eye on your
E-mail Inbox as our Promotions Department will be contacting you soon at
bswillis@bellsouth.net for further information in this matter.

Thank you for your patience, understanding and cooperation in this
matter.

Thank you for choosing Pacific Poker.

Kind regards,

Fernanda
Member Support Representative
Pacific Poker

Uh-huh. Now, let's all say it together: Cashout and find a new home for the WPBT.

What I fnd amazing is that the support team over at Pacific still isn't saying anything different than it was last night. I've always found in dealing with angry people who have been wronged that an EXPLANATION of what happened help ease the sting of getting screwed.

That must not be in the Pacific Support manual.

Keep readng to find out what the support team was REALLY doing last night.

[OTIS UPDATE #1 ENDS]

[CJ UPDATE #1]

I imagine the rest of the poker blogosphere received this email tonight:

Dear Member/Blogger,

Please accept our sincerest apologies for the non-start of the Monty
Memorial Tournament as organized by "Iggster".

I can assure you that this matter is being fully reviewed by our
technical department, and you will be contacted by our Promotional
department regarding this matter as soon as possible. We do appreciate
that this has caused great inconvenience to yourself and the other
players, and will be taking this into account.

Your satisfaction is our top priority and we are always willing to
listen and understand our member's needs and concerns. We value your
time and thank you for your patience.

Regards,
Kim
Member Support Representative
Pacific Poker

Now let's see how they really respond. I'm already pissed I haven't heard back on the $11 they stole from me when I got bounced after registering for an SNG and before it started. Just got the form e-mail, and nothing since. This could be the end of Pacific Poker. Otis loves his boycotts!

[CJ UPDATE #1 ENDS]

--------------
Let's take a peak inside Pacific Poker's support office, shall we?

Support Guy: Have you seen the latest edition of our company newsletter. It says we're raking in money hand over fist.

Support Girl: That's not all you're doing hand over fist. I've seen what you look at on the Net.

Support Guy: Seriously, it says we're doing so well that our support staff is so swamped we can't answer e-mails for a week.

Support Girl: I thought we were supposed to delete e-mails as they came in unless they had Dutch Boyd's name on them.

Support Guy: No, no. That was when we working for Poker Spot. Now we pretend like we're fixing the problem...

Support Girl: Oh, yeah, now I remember. We pretend like we're fixing the problem while we use the customer's rake money for self-gratification stimuli.

Support Guy: I'm finding you very attractive right now.

Support Girl: You want to roll around in the rake?

Support Guy: Wait, we may have a problem.

Support Girl: It's okay. I'm on the pill.

Support Guy: No, I mean, we were supposed to set up a tourney for a majority of the online poker blogging community and we didn't.

Support Girl: I thought you were doing it.

Support Guy: I was going to until I clicked on a "boobies" section on Fark.com. I've been busy.

Support Girl: So what should we do?

Support Guy: Just tell whoever calls that we're working on it, and we'll get to it after we finish rolling areound in the rake.

Support Girl: Should I call Public Relations?

Support Guy: You know what they'll say...

Support Girl: That's right...

Together: Whatta we care? They're only our customers!

--------------
From an automated e-mail support response:

Dear Member,

Please be informed that due to the success and popularity of Pacific
Poker, we have received an unprecedented influx of emails from our
members. We have been overwhelmed with emails and as a result, our
response time has lengthened significantly.

Sincerely,

Member Support Manager
Pacific Poker


"...due to the success and popularity of Pacific Poker"

Just cutting and pasting that to get ready for a week-long tirade of flames.

------------
Pacific support says it is taking care of the Monty problem. They took my user name, first and last, phone number, and a portion of my password.

They said there has been a delay and they will CALL ME when the tourney is supposed to start.

HUH?

For those new to the poker blog writing/reading community, the past several months have played host to the World Poker Blogger Tour, a series of poker tournaments organized by some of the greatest bloggers in the online community. The fourth stop on this tour will take us back to Pacfic Poker, home of the WPBT III, and home to my second WPBT victory.

I have been fortunate enough to win two of the three events. I say this with no small amount of humbleness, for Mean Gene has been no slouch himself. I feel he may be the Dan Harrington of the blogger community.

Hey, that's a fun aside. Let's all play. In the comments section, pick a blogger--any blogger--and assign her/him a personality based on a TV pro. That should be fun.

Nonetheless, as confident as I have been in the past about my poker ability, and as humble as I have tried to be (again, it is spelled O-T-I-S) in my wins, I can't help but think I'm in a world of trouble come Sunday.

Top Five Sign Otis is Doomed

5) While reacquainting himself with the Pacific interface, he accidentally signed up to play a Heads-Up tournament, placing 24th out of 96 entrants after his ace-high flush got rivered by a Q3 boat.
4) $50 bounty on his head
3) Since the last WPBT event, Otis has twice played live poker with poker blogger Bad Blood and has been revealed for the fraud he really is. BadBlood bubbled in the last event, but cashed in Otis' home tourney. Otis=afraid of Bad Blood.
2) Pride cometh (or is it goeth?) before the fall.
1) The Otis Choke (made famous in every event Otis has ever played in, including but not limited to disc golf).

***

In a chat bar to me today: "Arrogance in the hour of triumph is never forgiven or forgotten."

I have no idea where the quote originated, but I like it. I would've appreciated it a lot more had it not come from a guy who pushed in with J2s on a flush draw against my two pair, which eventually became quads and knocked him out.

***

I can't think straight right now, so I expect no triumph on Sunday night. I should be easy pickings.

Since I don't think I'll cash this time, here's Handicapper Otis with a Top Five Blogger prediction (I can't rank the readers, but I predict at least one places in the top five):

Fifth Place--BadBlood finally breaks his online tourney bubble streak and cashes.

Fourth Place--CJ, webmaster and founder of Up For Poker, having already seen blog-partner Otis bust out before the first break makes a move with big slick and gets caught by pocket aces, held by...

Third Place--Iggy, who in an earlier hand (say it with me) that will be talked about for the next fifty years took out hdouble and Felicia at once.

Second Place-Maudie. After watching Felcia get bounced along with other WCPB, hdouble, Maudie decides she's going to win it all...for womankind, for mankind....for FELINEkind.

First Place--In a win designed only to secure the SoCo bounty on his head, Al Can't Hang takes down top honors. The only question: Will he share?

***

Here ends the least cohesive poker blog entry I've ever written and a perfect example of why I should neither be blogging nor playing poker right now.

It was like I was watching myself through one of the store's security cameras. Or better yet, one of those films they used to show in high school. This one was titled, "The Anthropology of the Man Nearing Fatherhood."

However, to me, I saw it as a Animal Plant show, like the "Alligator Hunter."

Painfully Austrailian voice track: "Crikee, mates, we've found one. Look down there in the video cameras. That's his natural habitat. See, that round woman beside him. She's carrying his young . Crikee! Looks like it could come out any day, doesn't it? Now, watch as he spends way too much money on a piece of electronic equipment that he'll only use use to shoot video of a baby that only the grandparents will want to see! If you keep a close eye on him, you'll see him asking another more experienced man to help him put in a thing called a "child safety seat." That SUV doesn't look so manly now, does it, mates?"

And that was the first half of my day.

I was on my way to get a haircut, hopefully the result of which would be two-fold. First, after a day of looking like the American prototype for the "Almost Dad", I needed a fresh look. Maybe all those people who saw me wouldn't recognize me as the guy that just dropped $700 on a piece of video equipment. Secondly, while the last two weeks have been very kind to me online, the last couple of days had not and Mene Gene has some interesting ideas about the success of poker players relative to their haircut. It was worth a try.

However, much like Mean Gene's plight, the girl who guts my hair was busy and I was left with a free afternoon.

That's when the voice in my head started again.

"Hey, Otis, check your voicemail, man."

Sure enough, there it was. An invitation to a $100 buy-in tourney at the State Park Game, now known simply as The Mark.

***

We should begin with an admission here.

I am not a wealthy man.

I should not be spending hundreds of dollars on a video camera. What's more, I shouldn't be buying into $100 tournaments at The Mark right now. My online bankroll is up several thousand dollars, but my home bankroll had sunk below $800.

But Mrs. Otis, on the edge of labor, had some things to do and I had some time to kill.

Of course, you know what I did...

***

When I arrived at The Mark, only a few others had shown up. This was not like the Friday night games I've written about in the past, where the booze fuels all-in bets and you can never be sure if your opponent has low pair or a royal.

Saturday, the boys were drinking iced tea (one and half cups of sugar per pitcher, according to the host's wife). The cars in the drive were Hummers and Corvettes. This was not a night of drinking, crapshoot cards. This was going to be an afternoon of serious poker.

Flush Eddie was jonesing to play. "How about some $4/$8 until everybody gets here?"

It was a five-handed game. We each bought in for $40. My AQ helded up for a boat against Mark's trip Queens. AK paired an ace on the board to snuff Flush Eddie's pocket jacks. Within 40 minutes I had won my buy-in to the tourney, plus enough to buy dinner later that night.

It was then I decided the title to this post: Freerolling at The Mark.

***

Since I was playing for free, I relaxed a little. The double-shot of Absolut I had poured into my limeade soothed the nerves a little more. I felt my game coming on.

Mark surprised me by setting up the tourney the way I like them. Unlike Friday night games where each chip is valued the same, players pick their own seats, and the blinds are run off an egg-timer, Mark had gone the extra yard and set up the tourney as follows:

A $100 buy in gets you $3000 in tournament chips. Levels begain at $10/$20 and increase every 20 minutes as monitored by his freshly downloaded Poker Clock (incidentally, I was introduced to Poker Clock by the Greenwood Crew, and if you have't used it for your home tourneys yet, you are really missing out). Rebuys are $100 and will get you $2500T if you bust out in the first four levels. Payout: 80% to first place, 20% to second (again, a little top-heavy for my taste, but that's the way the majority ruled).

We had nine players around Mark's nice new table. $900 sat in the pot. I looked around the table to my left.

1) Flush Eddie, the red-Hummer driving niceguy who suggested the $4/$8 game

2) The Captain, the Captain Morgan fan who I'd never seen before.

3) Mark, the black-Hummer driving host of the game.

4) Brian, an easily-respected visor-wearing player who plays at almost every game at The Mark, big or small.

5) I'll call this guy Not-Gary, becuase he reminded me a lot of one of my best friends from Missouri, but that wasn't his name

6) Chuck Sneer. I dubbed him, at first, The Sneer, because he can look downright menacing behind a set of shades. Later, I learned his name was Chuck and decided he was too nice of a guy to only call him The Sneer.

7) Juan Corona, the Corona-sharing stickler for detail

8) Nick, the tanning business operator

9) Otis

***

My first four hands should've indicated to me that I should run to my car, grab a notebook, and start taking notes. In four hands, I was dealt 66, 77, and TT, all of which made sets on the flop. I don't think anyone called any of these to the river, but I raked a healthy amount of chips nonetheless.

In the first two levels, I never fell below my original $3000T. The table had started to joke, because my Queens were holidng up almost every time I had them. If I held a Queen in my hand, no matter how small the kicker, it held up.

As a result, I got cocky.

I limped in with Q5o in late position and a Q came on the flop with no overcards. I bet out and Chuck Sneer cold called. Curious. The turn was a blank, I bet out, he cold-called again. Very curious. I put him on a Q with a weak kicker. There wasn't much of a draw on the board. The river spiked what I figured was the case queen. I put out a large bet, expecting Chuck Sneer to fold. He did me one better and put in a huge raise.

That was when The Sneer came into play. I tried to look into him. I wanted to see his kicker. After a couple of minutes of serious thought, I mucked my hand, turning up the queen. The table couldn't believe I had laid it down. At the time, I felt okay about the laydown, and was only mad at myself for playing Q5o in the first place. Later, though, as I started watching how Chuck played, I realized that river raise was only a playing device for him. Eventually, someone he put on a weak flush called one of the river raises with a big flush. It was then I realized Chuck probably didn't have the fourth Queen and had bluffed me something fierce.

While demoralizing, it was not a huge defeat for me. I had developed a certain amount of respect at the table and was using it to my advantage. I worried, though, that the weakness I showed with my queen trips would start to hurt me.

That's when it happened...

One hand before the rebuy period was over, I found KK in the big blind. Brian came in for a big raise and got called by Not-Gary. I raise, Brian went all in, Not-Gary called his all-in and went all in himself.

And there sat my pocket cowboys looking back at me with a look of terror, truly unbefitting of their name. Couple of complete wussies, if you ask me.

They actually looked up at me from their spot on the felt and said, "Fold us. We're weak. One of those two guys has aces and we'll lose. It's SAD for cowboys to lose."

I actually thought about Hellmuth for a second, when he called the ESPN crew over during the WSOP and told them how monumental it was that he folded his KK. I looked around for someone to brag to that I was about to lay down pocket kings pre-flop.

Then one of the kings looked up at me and winked. "Just kiddin', bud. Call their asses."

I called, but still not sure of myself completely, told the two other players, 'Show me your aces."

And they did. Unfortunately for them, they needed to combine their hands to have pocket aces. Both of them showed AJ. Both of them.

The flop came all little cards.

"No aces..." I muttered.

Nick looked up at me and said, "I folded one of them."

After the turn came with another blank, that meant there was one card left in the deck that could beat me.

And it didn't come.

The cowboys held up and my stack sat at ~$14,000T going into the first break.

***

The first break also indicated the end of the rebuy period. Mark, Brian, and Not-Gary had rebought, Nick had busted out and decided he was finished.

That put the total prize pool at $1200.

I called Mrs. Otis to make sure she wasn't in labor. She asked how I was doing, and I said well, as long as the baby doesn't come while I'm playing.

***

After the break, even with the rebuys, it started to go quickly. I busted out a couple of players, so did Flush Eddie.

Before long, we were down to four: Otis, Flush Eddie, Not-Gary, and Chuck Sneer.

I found AQ in late position, and felt ever-so-slightly uncomfortable calling Chuck's raise. I felt my hand was good, but when he bet out after an ace came on the flop, I started to feel like he might have AK. I raised to see where I was in the hand and Chuck re-raised all in.

I thought for about 30 seconds. I felt like he likely had AK, but if he didn't, I could bust him and get it down to three players.

I called and Chuck turned up a familiar hand. AJ, the same hand I had busted Brian and Not-Gary on. He didn't improve, shook my hand, and took off.

I was pretty close to Flush Eddie in chip position, but I sort of felt like he was a little ahead. Not-Gary was not quite short-stacked, but he was obviously in third place.

He played a good tight-aggressive game throughout thetournament and it served him well, even when we got shorthanded. He even started to build his stack a little bit. That's when my money-clip started talking.

"Just say the word, 'deal', man. They'll take it. Nobody is here for the glory. Split it three ways."

But I couldn't make myself do it. Even though I was playing for free, even though busting out on the bubble would kill my faith in the game of poker, I couldn't make myself offer a deal with three players left.

We played three-handed for about 30 minutes. Everybody played tight, not wanting to give up too much.

"The big hand is coming," Not-Gary said.

He was right.

I was in the small blind and hadn't yet looked at my cards when Not-Gary, from the button raised the amount of the pot. I started to mutter something about him being a thief, but chose to look at my cards instead.

The boys were back.

"Hey, Otis," the cowboys waved. "Feel like folding us this time, pussy?"

I looked at Not-Gary, "How much do you have left?"

He counted it out confidently , "About $4500T."

If I lost, I would be the table's shortstack and in danger of the bubble. If I won, I was in the money. I still had Flush Eddie behind me, but didn't think for more than a couple of seconds before announcing I was all in.

Eddie folded immediately and Not-Gary called, flipping up A3 of hearts.

The cowboys looked proud.

To make them prouder, one of their buddies came on the flop and Not-Gary was, in essence, drawing dead the rest of the way.

We were down to two.

***

I started trying to count Flush Eddie's chips and noticed he was doing the same thing to me. We both came to the same conclusion about the same time, but Eddie was first to speak: "Mark, how much is in the pot?"

Mark was at the end of the table experiementing with Poker Clock.

"$1200."

"Want to chop it?" Eddie asked.

I did the math in my head and realized that with my win in $4/$8 before the game and half the $1200 pot, I had just paid for my new video camera.

I only had to say, "Yep" and Mark put $600 in my hand.

Eddie and I counted out our chips just for the fun of it. I had him outchipped by about $3000T, which once heads up play begins is not a significant margin. I could've played for several more hours and lost. I'd take my share of first... in a second.

***

You know, I try to play it cool when I win. No jumping around, fist-pumping, point and poke maneuvers for me. Still, winning makes my balls feel like they are the size of honeydew melons. Winning makes me feel like I could impregnate a new woman every day. Winning makes my shoulders huge and my head clear. The endorphins and adrenaline that course through the bloodstream have to be equivalent to some sort of drug.

While I have been occasionally posting $1000 days on Empire, I rarely return from home games with a significant roll of cash.

So, it was hard to play it too cool when I got home and Mrs. Otis asked how I did. I just tossed her the roll and told her to count it.

She obliged me and played the role of the impressed wife very well.

***

Today, my back is a little sore from sitting at the table for hours yesterday. My new video camera is charged up and ready to play with. And the lawn needs to be mowed.

Cue the Austrailian guy again: "There he is again, mates. Back in his den. Look how big his testicles have grown in the last 24 hours! Crikee! But don't get too used to that, mates. As soon as he starts mowing the yard, he'll be all normal again."

Normal.

Heesh.

Therein, friends, lies the danger of writing about poker.

There's a chance people will read it.

So, when word of Up For Poker came up in pre-game conversation, I looked for a quick exit. For instance, I wasn't sure how comfortable the host would be knowing I found his wife tilt-worthy.

Then one of Greenville County's finest said, "You know, I walked in the other day and my Lieutenant asked me if I was the one that played in the State Park game."

That can't be good, I thought.

"How did he find the site?" I asked, throwing back a mouthful of beer (that's a nervous habit of mine by the way. Whenever I get a little nervous, I drink whatever is in my hand to the bottom of the glass. It keeps my mouth from saying stupid things).

"Oh, they read all kinds of shit up there," he said.

"The names have been changed to protect the guilty," I said. It was a declarative statement, but I'm pretty sure it sounded like a question. I wanted the answer to be, "It's cool, man."

"Damn right," he said.

That was good enough for me.

I walked into the billiard room that had been coverted to a poker room. The host (he still hadn't mentioned me mentioning his wife) had built a brand new ten-seat poketr table with a padded rail. He is a genius with building that kind of stuff and is already talking about building a new one. A better one. I may contract him to build one for me. I was itching to sit and play.

I could immediately tell that the poker crowd wasn't as rowdy as the last time I visited. The room felt calm and it calmed me down. I took the eight-seat at the end of the table and bought in.

In the State Park Game, your buy in gets you $50 in tournament chips. Blinds start at $1/$2 and double every 15 minutes until they reach $10/$20. Then they stop going up. Only the top two finishers get paid, and second place barely gets anything. In essence, it's winner take all.

The stucture is fast. If you don't double up in the first two levels, you can forget about winning. While it doesn't allow for the best poker in the world, it does make for quick tourneys and allows for two or three games a night.

Once I realized I wasn't going to get beat down for writing up the last game I attended (some of the guys even took to calling me The Writer) I settled down, situated my beer, and got ready to play.

Tournament #1

A couple hands in, still during the first level, I'm dealing from the button. It comes to me with the man called Bear calling the BB. I look down and see 88. I raise three times the BB. The Firefighter called, as did Bear.

I burned the top card, dealt out three and flipped them over.

862rainbow.

It was at this point that I considered an ugly possiblity. I had just dealt myself the nuts. I'd only played at this game once before. We had just started to play and I dealt myself the ever-loving nuts.

That's no way to makes friends.

I thought for two seconds and considered laying them down. After all, the Firefighter led out big and Bear raised. But I held the ever-lovin', papa's got a brand new bag, slap your mama it's so good nuts.

I looked around for my beer to keep me from saying something stupid. I couldn't fiind it.

"All in."

That's no way to make friends, either, but, yeah, that's what I said.

I simultaneously cheered and gulped when the Firefighter said, "Call." You could've knocked me over with a poker chip when Bear, too, said, "Call."

What? It occured to me that maybe I'd misread my hand. The Firefighter puts out fires, Smoky Bear prevents forest fires. And now my head is on fire.

I turned over my cards to show my top set. The Firefighter groaned and turned over The Hilton Sisters (QQ). Bear, inexplicably, turned over A7.

I did the quick math. Only the two remaining two bitches or two running cards beat me.

The Turn brought a four, giving Bear the gutshot straight draw. Now six cards in the deck beat me. Four remaining fives, two remaining queens.

As an aside, I have to wonder how Siegfried has been getting along since Roy did the floppy tiger dance. I only wonder, because somehow The Hilton Sisters just weren't enough for that hand. They needed a third queen and Siegfried came on the river.

When that happenens to me, I always black out for half a second. I never know exactly what I do or say in that moment. All I know is as I came to I was pushing the Firefighter the pot and saying something about his lieutenant being able to read about that one on Monday.

In retrospect, the guy played a good hand and played it just as I would have (although, if I were him, I might have put me on a position raise pre-flop and re-raised me to see where I was in the hand). So, if I wasn't going to win the hand, I'm glad he did. If I'd lost to damned A7 on a gutshot straight draw on the river, then I might have said a few things that wouldn't have won me any friends. What's more, I had the Firefighter covered and beat Bear's hand, so I was still in the game, although severely wounded.

I was able to control my emotions and not go on tilt. My head lasted until the second hand of the second level when I found Big Slick spades. The host called my raise (not quite three times the BB). The flop came K8x rainbow. I bet, he called. The turn was a Q. I bet almost my entire stack. He cold called and I knew I was screwed. The flop was a blank, but it didn't matter. The Host had me with Q8, two pair.

"I would've folded before the flop if your raise had been bigger," he said, almost apologetically.

I'm not quite sure what I said, but it's advice I'll take. I should've at least raised three times the BB. Why I didn't go the extra couple bucks I don't know. I'm not quite sure why he called my big bet on the flop with second pair, but that's moot now.

Player out at table one. Otis was unceremoniously dispatched to the rail.

I played in a cheap side game until the second tourney started.

Tourney #2

This is not a summary. This is it:

I folded my way to fourth place out of eleven entries. I was shortstacked and pushed in with AQo. Bear, the huge stack, called my bet with KQo. I'm a huge favorite to double up, but Bear flopped his K and I didn't improve.

****

And so the second trip to the State Park game ended in defeat. Twice.

But there was victory in this, friends: Nobody seemed overly pissed that I wrote up the last game. What's more, I got invited back. That's more poker to play and poker to write about.

That'll do for me.

And, Lieutenant, give the Firefighter some light duty next week. I think he hurt his back raking all my chips.

I hit the road with the wife the morning and met BadBlood and friends at the Independence Poker Open in Greenwood, SC.

It was a family event, complete with holiday streamers, a BBQ, a pool for swimmers, and--most importantly--a room set aside for poker.

Twenty-three people ponied up $50 a piece to take a shot at the final four paying spots. The room was full of attorneys, engineers, TV personalties, a judge, a preacher's wife, and some other business-types. Badblood and I added a blogger element to the room(although we fit into the other descriptions as well).

Because I'm sort of in the mood to keep drinking (there was a keg keeping the tourney going), I'm not going to write a full tourney report. Instead, here are a few hands of note.

Hand #1

On the second hand of the game, on the button, I see the Hilton Sisters (QQ) staring back at me. I put in a 3xBB raise. Only the SB calls me. The flop came 9TJ (the nine and ten were spades). I bet the pot and the SB called. The turn brought the 8 of spades, making my straight but putting a flush on the board. I checked, the SB put in a reasonable bet. I called. The river was the 6 of spades. I checked my queen high flush. He made the same size bet as before. I called to see his 72 of spades. My QQ turned Q-high straight turned Q-high flush got killed by 72spades...a straight flush 6-10. My stack was diminished by more than 2/3 of my chips. On the second hand of the game. I later learned the guy who played the 7-2 had recently run for county prosecutor and lost. I vowed--no matter what--to make sure I outlasted him. And I did.

Hand #2

The host's brother (who claimed never to have played the game before) was running over the table. He was the first to double up when his pocket cowboys made a set on the flop and a boat on the river. I was severely shortstacked and none-too-happy to see 10-6 of hearts in the BB. Fortunately, no one raised it to me. I checked. Two sixes fell on the flop. I slowed played them and cold-called a reasonable bet. The turn brought a ten and made my boat. I checked, then hemmed and hawed over whether to call a large bet from the self-problaimed Newb. I also checked the river when it came an Ace. Newb put me all in. I obviously called and doubled up. He didn't show his cards.

At the first break I was sitting at an exact 75% of my starting chips. We consolidated to two tables shortly thereafter.

Hand #3

My stack was getting short. I re-raised all-in with pocket nines. The big stack at the table called with K9s. The nines held up and I doubled up.

Hand #4

Perhaps my biggest mistake of the day, although it cost me nothing...sort of. Everyone folded to my small blind. I had A3of clubs. I decided to raise to push out Teddy Ballgame. He'd been playing very conservatively. He cold-called. the flop came with rags, but two clubs, giving me the flush draw. I put in a big bet and he cold-called again. I put him on a middle pair or second pair on the board. The turn paired my threes. I can't remember if I bet and he called or we both checked. Regardless, the river was a rag. We both checked and both turned over A3 to split the pot. Had I been more aggressive, I could've taken that pot from him and it really would've helped my chip position.

After bluffing the big stack off a pot, and wisely laying down some unsuited face cards and small pairs, I picked up a nice pot when my big blind rag cards made a pair of threes to an under-aggressive big stack. It carried me to the next break and the final table.

I started the final table with 2800T, below the average chip count but on par with more han half of the final table particiapants. I had enough for a few orbits and the blinds were skyrocketing. I never saw a flop at the final table when I pushed in from the SB. I had rags, but not enough money for the BB the next time around. I wanted to steal the judge's BB. He called and had two overcards and they held up. I was out in 6th.

Badblood, true to form, busted out next...on the bubble. He and I are trying to come up with a psychological profile of players who finished consistently on the bubble.

Now, I've been writing for about 45 minutes and I still want to go out drinking...but I'm killing a Empire $3/$6 game. I'm up $233 in 45 minutes.

What's a poor boy to do?

Incidentally, Greenwood Phil ended up with the $575 win. As he was born on the fourth of July, it was a nice birthday gift for him.

As more players trickled in, I worried I wouldn't be permitted to play because of a height requirement. Everyone else was under 6 feet. Are people generally shorter in Louisiana?

Eventually, the 16 players had all arrived. I quickly realized this wouldn't be one of my favorite poker playing experiences. We drew straws to find out which table we'd sit at, and then just took any chair we wanted. Our $25 buy-in got us 100T. You could rebuy once for another $25 to get another 150T. Thankfully, my $25 was paid for by a friend of a friend who was just happy I'd come. I couldn't turn that down.

I hate rebuys, especially when this one seemed so pointless. It's bad enough when you start with such a small stack. It's even worse when the blinds begin at 2/4, and double every 30 minutes. That means 6% of my stack goes every time around the table. Unless I catch some pots early, this was going to be a short night.

I knew I couldn't sit back and wait for premium hands, so my plan was to play rather aggressively. The first two hands, everyone at the table called the big blind. Everyone except me. I wanted to play the hands. If I had anything close to playable, I'd have paid to see a flop. The hands were just rags.

There was no method to the tables madness. Few, if any, pots were bought. And no one stole blinds. It didn't take long before people were going all-in, and we were still in the first half hour.

I saw just one flop before the blinds jumped to 4/8. I was down about 30T. When I finally caught a marginal hand UTG, I raised to 28T and everyone folded. I actually won a pot... wow. Maybe my "rock" status was going to pay off.

A few hands later, I got pocket 10's. My first real hand of the night. I raised again to 28T, and got one caller. The flop came 5-9-A, two diamonds. The slow cajun who called me looked at the flop, looked at his cards, and checked. He only had about 23T left in front of him, so I forced him all-in. He struggled with his decision, glancing at his cards, then at the chips in front of him, and finally called.

He flipped AQ of diamonds. There were just 6 of us left playing at this point, and he struggled with his pair of aces, great kicker and nut flush draw!?! I got no help on the turn or the river and suddenly I was pretty short stacked, and kicking myself for the misread.

The next hand I'm in the BB with J-7. No one raises in front of me so I check. The flop comes 4-5-6. I've only got a few chips left in front of me so I push all-in with my open-ended straight draw. The big stack at the table calls as does the small blind. The turn is a K.

At this point, the small blind goes all-in and the big stack calls him, too. I flip my lowly J-7 begging for a 3 or an 8. The big stack flips Big Slick, and he's calculating his chances of winning. The small stack flips 3-7. He flopped the straight and the big stack is drawing dead. I need a 3 or an 8 to split. A miracle 3 comes on the river, and I'm still alive. I don't have much, but I'm still alive.

A few hands later, I'm dealt K9o. We're down to just 5 at our table now, and that's suddenly a very playable hand. I raise and get one caller. The same guy who Aced me earlier.

The flop is 3-9-A. Five at the table and flopped second pair. The slow cajun checks, but I know that doesn't mean anything. I check as well. The turn is a 4. He checks again. I have to push in here. I don't have much in front of me, and the blinds are jumping to 8/16 on the next hand.

He calls me again and flips A5o. He flopped the pair of aces again. What the hell was I supposed to do? I didn't feel that bad actually. Even if I win that pot, I have a paltry stack. I make maybe three trips around the table before I bust out on the 8/16 blinds. Maybe I catch a hand somewhere in there.

I still hadn't re-bought at that point, but I wasn't going to spend $25 for 150T. That's just 6 trips around the table. It's not worth it. I would have been so short stacked in comparison that I would have needed to push all-in the first chance I got. And with my first 100T I got to play a whopping 3 hands.

I walked out of there without losing a dime. Well, I did buy two beers so I lost $5.50. It was fun only in the sense that it was poker. I didn't really enjoy it that much. Perhaps getting better cards would have helped, but the set-up was so poor, it discouraged solid play. I just don't have a good loose-aggressive style.

I don't think I'll be back. They play every Tuesday night, and they say starting next week, the cards will fall at 8pm. Unless they change the set-up, I'm not interested. They'll also be starting a 3/6/12 game on Thursday nights, but that's a little more than I'm comfortable playing with a bunch of people I don't know, unless I'm in a casino.

Speaking of casinos, this weekend might mean a trip to Baton Rouge and a report on the poker rooms there. Stay tuned!

You may remember my $164 profit in just two hours of play on Saturday. On Sunday, I headed back to the Planet Poker tables and decided to try out the $3/$6 instead of the $2/$4. My first hand should have been a sign.

I'm dealt AJo in the BB. A guy in middle position raises, the button calls and I call. Three of us see a 10-Q-10 flop. Not ideal. In fact, it hardly hit me at all. I'm on a gutshot straght draw, but another club could mean the flush for someone and I might already be beat by a boat. I should get out of the hand, right?

I check, the original raiser bets out, the button calls and I, inexpicably, call as well. The turn is a K. Jackpot! I somehow caught my straight without a flush hitting the board. Unfortunately, there are now two clubs and two spades on the board, and the boat still beats me. No worries, though, I'm hot! Time for the check raise. The original raiser bets out again, the button calls, I raise and both call me.

At this point, I'm praying for a red rag on the river. Not only is it not red, but it's not a rag. The ace of clubs falls. That now means any two clubs beats me along with any boats, and any J splits the pot. I bet anyway and the raiser raises me. The button folds and I have to call. There's $79 in the pot and I already pumped in $27. I'm praying he's just got a jack.

He flips American Airlines. I'm beat on the river. That just made it even more painful because I was up before that card. I lost $33 on that hand alone. I wonder if I should have played it differently. Looking back, I figure I'd have done the same thing.

My last hand of the session also hurt. I'm dealt Hookers. Pocket Jacks. There seems to be a discussion in the poker world right now on whether Jacks are a medium pair or a high pair. In limit poker, they're probably worthless. I play them anyway.

I'm UTG and I call the BB. It's raised after me and everyone else folds. I call. The raise should have been a sign. The flop is 3-6-K, two clubs. I have to make a decision right here. Does he have a King? If he doesn't, I press this hand unless another scare card falls. If he does, I fold the first time he bets.

I decided on neither of the above, and that was my downfall. I checked and he bet. Right here, I should have raised. A check raise would have demonstrated strength. If he re-raises, I get out of the hand. If he just calls, I make another decision on the turn. Instead, I just call and get absolutely no information.

The turn is a 5 of diamonds. It's harmless. I check, he bets, I call. Am I an idiot? Why don't I see the holes in my play as they are happening? With the bigger bet on the turn, now's the perfect time for a check raise. If he calls or raises, I'll know he has at least the K and I'm beat. I just call.

The river is another 6. What I wouldn't give for a 6 right now. The idiot at the table checks, he bets, and the idiot calls. The guy not only had one K, he had two. Cowboys. Cowboys beat Hookers every time. Not even a six would have helped me. I played the hand horribly and it cost me $21.

Other than those two hands, I played about even. Winning a few pots and losing a few. The only good news was that I was playing a limit tourney at the same time. Here's the e-mail after it was over:

Congratulations UpForPoker on placing 1st in our Hold'em tournament on 6/27/2004 4:00:00 PM.

$90.16 have credited to your account.

Thanks for playing at Planet Poker and have a great day!

Sure, it's not winning $750, but it helped my bankroll! I'm starting to like this Texas Hold 'Em game again. Must have been the Bradoween Open to get my poker blood pumping again!

While working on a writing project Sunday night, I decided to enter Empire's $25,000 tourney. The buy-in was $100+$10. That's usually a little steep for me to buy into a multi, but the overlay on the guarantee was too good.

One hundred fifty-six players bought into the limit hold'em tourney. Top prize was $6750. Top 20 paid.

Four hours later, I found myself sitting at the final table.

Here's a not-so-surprising revelation: One mistake at the final table--even in a limit tourney--can kill you.

I placed 9th for $750.

That's the most I've ever won at one time, so I should feel good.

But I don't.

How about that?

I was worried at the beginning about being the first out of the game. I was relieved when I heard of the first casualty from the other room and then when I put Trotter out of our table. I had stayed alive long enough to avoid major embarrassment. I had however chased a couple of bad hands and was the shortest stack when four tables became three. I told CJ I would have to go all in on the first hand I could or else be blinded off. The second hand at my new table brought me the hammer and all in I was. [Ed. note: Reilly is referring to AK, not 72o] I had three callers and a lot more money after that. Stayin’ alive. I did not play another hand until just before the next break where I was able to double up again on a strong hand â€" maybe AK again. I wish I had the photographic memory like the rest of you guys, but I was just concentrating on surviving.

Now we were down to two tables and I got lucky again. This time me and my short stack were seated at table 1, where there was no dominant chip leader. Everybody here was fairly even in skill as well. I was able to increase my chips here some, but mostly I stayed out of the way of some fairly loose play at this table. Meanwhile at table 2, the big stacks (and what I perceived to be stronger players) were knocking each other off. By the time I was down to the final 12 of 33 players, I was happy to have survived and could go home holding my head high. I was not greedy enough to have visions