Thinking Poker

A few months ago, I was invited to a meeting at Harvard Law School where a group of academics, journalists, medical professionals, and poker players discussed whether and how to go about legitimizing the game of poker in the United States. Here's the trip report from that meeting.

A few weeks ago, one of the coordinators of that meeting informed me of a follow-up luncheon in Las Vegas. I invited a few 2p2'ers I thought would be interested and interesting, and while LearnedFromTV accepted, Jurollo elected to play the $2K NLHE event that was starting at the same time. What a degenerate.

Anyway, I ended up having a pretty interesting lunch with LFTV, Howard Lederer, Andy Bloch, and Andrew Woods, who was representing Harvard Law School and specifically Professor Nesson, who was the force behind this whole thing. The focus of this meeting was on the creation of what Nesson et al are calling a "Poker University". Something alone these lines was brought up at the first meeting, but I didn’t really understand what was meant at the time and kind of dismissed it. Listening to Andrew talk about it, though, I now think it sounds like a very good way to go about legitimizing the game of poker.

The germ of the idea was formed from the observation that poker seems to have strong appeal among university students, from undergraduates and law students. Professor Nesson was curious to know why this game held such strong appeal for the extremely bright students he knew from Harvard Law School.

The idea now is turn the legitimacy of the academic eye on the game by focusing on its relationship to mathematics, business negotiations, computer science, wall street, venture capitalism, and even FBI hostage negotiation. With the help of Full Tilt Poker, Harvard Law School is going to start a small student organization dedicated to using poker as a teaching tool.

Teams of three or so students will play each other heads up on FTP. In different rooms, they will discuss each decision out loud, with microphone running to record their conversations and decision-making processes. FTP will provide large time banks to allow for extended discussion. After the session, a transcript and/or recording will be made available to a panel of academics or other experts from the fields listed above, who will comment on how the thinking parallels elements of their fields.

Andrew identified three objectives for this initiative:

1. To separate poker, in the mind of the general public, from the pathologies of gambling. The goal here would be to demonstrate all of the skills that go into playing the game of poker and highlight their applications in both the academic and "real" worlds. Certainly, starting the first of these clubs at one of the world’s most prestigious academic institutions will be a big step towards that goal, but ultimately the intent is to create a kit that would enable such clubs to be replicated at colleges and universities around the world. Then, there could be inter-scholastic and even inter-continental competition.

2. To get the academic community involved in poker. There was a consensus that Chen and Ankenman’s book, "The Mathematics of Poker", could easily be the focus of a graduate-level mathematics course for students with no intrinsic interest in poker. That is, the most advanced mathematic concepts are sufficiently interesting to be worthy of study as an end in themselves rather than a means of improving one’s poker game. There was also talk of developing a poker-based elective course, but concern that this would meet overwhelming institutional resistance in the current climate.

3. To generate a body of academic evidence supporting the predominance of skill over luck for use in future litigation. Howard said that Full Tilt Poker has given celebrity economist Steven Levitt access to a random sample of unbiased, anonamized hand histories from their records and that he has already begun the number crunching. Although Levitt had already been collecting data from voluntarily submitted hand histories, these were inevitably going to be biased towards the results of winning players.

This led to a more general discussion of current litigation strategies and the familiar long-term versus single hand debate. The lawyers and would-be lawyers at the table suggested that, since poker player is a viable profession vis-a-vis the IRS, one could argue in court that playing more than one of poker is a common business practice. Thus, courts would need to consider whether skill predominates in the long term rather than in a single hand.

Howard was not convinced, and claimed there was confusion created by conflating ‘skill’ and ‘edge’. Skill is the cause of an edge, but they are not the same thing. As he puts it, skill is the betting, while luck is the cards. He argues that since so few hands go to showdown, and often the hand that would have won at showdown ends up folding at some point during the hand, the skill (betting) is predominating over the luck (cards). He credits Sklansky with developing a hypothetical game, dubbed ‘lucker’ by Levitt, in which there is no folding. The divergence of results between the same hands played in lucker versus poker would be owing to skill.

I like the idea of using academia as a diving off point for legitimizing the game, both because poker really does seem to hold such tremendous appeal for many students, and because the corruption of these youth seems to be a concern for poker's opponents. Focusing on the benefits of learning the game might help to neutralize that argument and give legitimacy to the common (but flawed, in my opinion) belief that the majority of losing poker players are knowingly engaging in an exchange of cash for entertainment. I know people tend to get all up in arms about 'educating the fish', but personally I would find the profession of poker player less ethically questionable if the fish were a bit better educated, at least about the extent to which there really is a skill element to the game.

And if any American academic institution carries legitimacy, it's Harvard University, so where better to get something like this off the ground?

Oh, and for those who don't know, Jurollo went on to chop the $2K NLHE event three ways for something like $350K!

On Monday, I played my first WSOP preliminary event, a $2500 6-max tournament. This is a little beyond my bankroll, but there are so few opportunities to play 6-max tournaments, and I'm not playing many other events, so I decided to go for it.

The dealer at my first table was a bit of a character himself. As I sat down, he was talking with a dealer at the next table over about Ben Affleck (who, for those who don't know, is an avid poker player and at the WSOP). After finishing that conversation, he explained to us that he had a movie script that was going to "make millions" and he just needed to get it under Affleck's nose to escape the drudgery of poker dealing forever. Someone asked him, sarcastically, why he would want to leave this job, to which he replied, "I am so sick of getting cussed at and having cards thrown at me and all that bullshit. It's like, why are you getting angry at me? I dealt the cards, but I didn't tell you to call that raise with 76s."

To the dealer's left, in the 1 seat, is a young surfer dude with blond, spiky hair, dark sunglasses, and a goatee that juts out several inches below his chin. "Gnarly", as I’ll refer to him, worries me a bit just because guys our age don’t usually have the disposable income that would allow them to play a $2500 poker tournament with a negative expectation. He isn’t bad, but he does play very straight-forwardly, and his table talk demonstrates a rather shallow level of thinking about the game.

To his left, and my right, is a black guy in his early 30's. For reasons I’m not going to speculate about here, there are very few black poker players. I’ve played with only a handful (that I know about- obviously I usually have no idea about race when playing online), and with one notable exception, they’ve all been quite bad at poker. However, the ones I’ve played with have almost all been flashy, wearing expensive sunglasses, big jewelry, etc. In this way, they’re like a lot of the young Italian guys who play at Foxwoods, fundamentally gamblers looking to splash around and show off how much money they have. The only talented black guy I can recall playing with is also much more conservative in his dress and mannerisms, so I think this is primarily a sample size issue. The guy at this table is both quiet and dressed in a subdued fashion, wearing a black sweatshirt that says “Dogtown” in small letters on the sleeve, so I’m not prepared to assume he’ll be a weak player based on his demographics alone, the way I would if he were, for instance, an old white man.

I’m in the 3 seat, which at a 6-handed table, puts me in the center, across from the dealer and slightly to his left. To my left is a young, pudgy guy in an ill-fitting Izod shirt. He talks quite a bit about what’s going on, and from the things he’s saying, I’m able to gather that he’s pretty knowledgeable about tournament play and poker in general, almost certainly the best of my opponents at the table. We’ll call him Izod.

To his left is a guy I’ll call Vinny. Vinny looks straight out of the cast of the Sopranos: track suit, gold chain, slicked back hair, etc. Then again, I say that about every poker playing Italian from Long Island, so that says something either about me or about Long Island Italians. Regardless, Vinny actually turns out to be a pretty even-tempered, friendly guy.

Next around the table is an older gentleman who shall henceforth be known as Gramps. In my experience, old guys are almost always tight passive (meaning they play very hands, and rarely bet or raise when they are playing) or loose passive (they play a lot of hands, but still are almost always checking or calling other people’s bets rather than forcing the action themselves). Gramps turns out to be of the latter variety, and is no worry to me whatsoever.

Despite my reluctance to assume he will be, Dogtown quickly makes clear that he is, in fact, not only a fish, but one of the worst poker players I’ve ever played with. He hates to fold, will play almost any two cards pre-flop, call almost any raise, rarely fold if he catches any piece of the board, randomly bluff in awful spots, and make it very obvious when he has a good hand. In short, I love having him on my right, and love watching him get lucky over and over again against the better players at the table. In particular, he takes a lot of chips from Izod by rivering a lucky two pair.

Izod was very vocal in criticizing Dogtown’s play, and finally, in his own defense, Dogtown said sheepishly, “If you concentrate, you can feel which cards are going to come.”

That just fueled the fire. Now Izod and Vinny are both openly mocking him, laughing and making jokes about his play while he’s sitting right there. He’s taking it well, but it’s annoying the hell out of me. For one thing, it’s bad for business to make fun of bad play. The old agage is, “Don’t tap the glass,” a reference to a common aquarium warning against disurbing the fish. Professionals make money based on the mistakes of bad players, so we benefit from an atmosphere where mistakes are accepted and encouraged, not mocked.

More importantly, though, this is just rude. Guys like Izod give all internet poker players a bad reputation with their lack of class. It's ironic how many pros will justify their profession ethically by saying that losing players are compensated for their money with entertainment while at the same time behaving so rudely to someone who is clearly a losing player.

After reducing him to 500 chips, Dogtown doubles up Izod up by calling his all in (with blinds still 25/50) with 98 offsuit. Izod’s AJ holds up, much to my dismay, but he goes out fairly soon anyway.

Early on, I’m not getting much in the way of cards, and with Dogtown on my right calling everything, I don’t have a lot of room to steal pots. He does eventually donate most of his chips, though, and finds himself with only about 1700 at the 50/100 level. He just calls the big blind, and I look down at A5. This is far from a great holding, but I’ve been looking to get involved with Dogtown before he loses the last of his money, and just the Ace is enough to put me well ahead of his range right now. I raise to 300, and he, of course, calls.

The flop of 842 is a good one for me, giving me a inside straight draw. However, there are now 750 chips in the pot, and 1400 in Dogtown’s stack. He checks, but I know he’ll never fold better hands, and he’ll occasionally put me in a tough spot with worse. I don’t want to get all in with him right here, but I don’t want to bet and fold what could be the best hand, either, so I check as well. Awkward spots like these are why I shouldn't make plays this like this.

The turn is an Ace, giving me top pair, though with one of the worst possible kickers. Admittedly, Dogtown doesn’t much like folding, but given how scary this Ace ought to be to him, I think he’s more likely to bluff at the river (or call a river bet with worse) than to call the turn with a worse hand than mine. So, I check again.

The river is a T, and now Dogtown announces, “All in.” Ugh. I wanted him to bluff, but he’s just bet twice the pot, and all I have is top pair with a weak kicker. Whatever, I can’t fold now.

“Call.”

“Good call,” he says, looking unhappy before he's even seen my cards. He turns over KT as he’s exiting the table. Wow, now that is beyond atrocious. On the river, he picked up a hand that could very possibly be good, and then he turned it into a bluff by moving all in for two times the pot. I’m not going to call that bet with worse than KT, and he knew that, because he knew he was beat before I turned over the winning hand. With his hand, he ought to make either a smaller bet that I could call with worse, or check and give me a chance to bluff. Oh well, I guess that’s just the kind of thinking that bad poker players can’t or won’t employ.

The best hand I see at this table is AJ, which I raise to 300 first to act. Vinny calls on the button, and then Gramps reraises to 850 from the SB. A reraise from loose passive Gramps? Even with AJ, it's time to get out of the way. I fold, and Vinny grumbles to me good naturedly, "300 and fold? You put me in a helluva spot. I call."

Flop 643, Gramps bets 2000, and 1500, and Vinny calls, telling me, "You owe me 2300 chips."

I'm tempted to respond, "I didn't tell you to call a raise with 76s," but I catch myself, realizing that speculating about his hand, even in reference to the dealer's earlier comment, would be inappropriate.

Gramps moves all in on a Q turn, and Vinny deliberates for a while before folding 76s face up! Heh. Gramps, of course, shows him a pair of Aces. This is why I say I'm not worried about him: certainly he can be dealt good cards, but he'll never give me a tough decision, because his play is just too straight-forward.

This table breaks, and I'm moved to another, slightly tougher looking table. There are a few more young guys here who look like they could be competent and no obvious fish. On closer inspection, though, there are two white guys in their early 30's who give signs of being little more than ardent enthusiasts with lucrative careers that enable an expensive hobby. One in particular is wearing a corporate polo shirt with a World Series of Poker visor. Come to think of it, I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone wearing poker clothing (except for gear worn as part of an endorsement, obviously) who was any good at the game. Only amateurs wear tee-shirts that say "I went all in at the World Series of Poker!"

But I digress. The three players on my right, the aforementioned pair included, turned out to be pretty loose passive, so I was raising their limps with a lot of medium-strength hands. Generally I'd win the pot with a flop bet, whether or not I hit anything, and sometimes I'd fold if they played back at me. Nothing complicated. Once, the guy to my immediate right just called the big blind of 200 first to act, and I raised to 900 with A9. One of the corporate amateurs in the big blind called, as did the limper, which was not the result I wanted.

I got a flop of A87, which is actually kind of tricky when I have A9. If I bet the flop, I'm pretty much only going to get action from people with two pair or top pair and a better kicker. So, I check, reluctantly giving a free card to two players. The turn brings a T, potentially making more two pair hands for others but giving me an open-ended straight draw. They all check to me again, and now I bet 1700, prepared to call a check-raise, though I wouldn't be happy about it. The BB calls, while the other guy folds. We check it through on a K river, and my A9 prevails over his A2. Excellent, that's exactly why he shouldn't be calling a raise with an easily dominated A2.

I'd just been thinking how nice it was that I was able to get away with all this raising because even when the table thought I was bluffing, all they would do was call me pre-flop and then give up if the flop missed them, which is exactly what I wanted them to do anyway. Then I got dealt a pair of Kings, and thought how nice it would be if someone did re-raise me, and sure enough I made my standard raise to 600 and the button, who'd been giving me the stink-eye every time I raised, made it 2500. Niiiiiice. I had about 16,000 chips to start the hand, but I was worried he'd fold most worse hands if I moved all in preflop because live poker tournaments are like that, so I just called his raise, deciding to check-raise all in on the flop.

The flop was a lovely 852, and I figured it was very unlikely my opponent could get away from another overpair. I checked, he asked what I had left, and then bet 5000. I moved all in for like 7000 more, and he folded. Oh well, it was still practically a double up.

A little while later, though the same guy gave me some actual trouble. After winning that pot and getting up a nice stack, I was playing more aggressively than ever. I raised 6s 5s, the kid (Jewish, with stylish sunglasses and clothing and such) called in the SB, and one of the corporate amateurs called from the BB. Flop Qc Jc 6d, and they checked to me. Bottom pair not good enough on this board, I check, too.

Turn 5h, they check to me again, and I bet 1200. Now the kid in the SB check-raises to 2500. Blech. I have the worst possible two pair, and the size of his raise, barely the minimum possible amount, suggests that he's got at least a better two pair. However, there aren't a lot of ways for him to have that. QJ is the most plausible, then 65, but my holding makes that unlikely. I doubt he'd play Q6 or Q5, I think he would have reraised QQ or JJ preflop, which makes high three of a kind unlikely, and again, with me holding 65, it's unlikely he has 66 or 55. I had seen him raise before on a draw, but in that case he was in position, which he isn't now. Our effective stacks were over 20,000, so even though I thought he could have a draw, I didn't want to 3-bet him and commit my entire stack to this pot. So I called.

The river was an ugly K, improving hands like KQ and KJ that I was beating on the turn. Now he bets 3200, which is like half the pot. I only have to be good about 25% of the time, and I decided he could be on a missed draw or even value betting like KT or something that he had semi-bluffed on the turn and then made top pair with. So I called, and he showed me QJ. Nice hand.

We had our second break of the day, and then the guy to my right was busted and replaced by a pudgy dude with a short stack. My Jewish friend asked how much the guy had, to which the man dejectedly replied, "Like $5." I eyed his stack myself and counted only about 3000 chips. Blinds were now 150/300 with a 25 ante, so he didn't have a lot of room to maneuver. He moved all in from late position a few times to pick up the dead money and grew his stack to about 4000.

He was moving in with such frequency that, combined with his pessimistic statement when he first sat down, I knew he was ready to give up and I was going to have to call him with a somewhat wide range if the opportunity arose. Sure enough, he shoved all 4000 chips second to act, and I looked down at 99. I only had about 12,000 chips, so I was a little reluctant to flip a coin with him if he had two overcards to my pair. However, based on my read, I had to figure him for a wide range that could include smaller pairs and stuff like A8 that I was way ahead of. So I moved all in over the top of his raise. I turned over my 99, and to my delight, he turned over 75s. With more than ten times then big blind and four players to act behind him, that's a pretty bad move, and I'm in great shape with a pair higher than either of his cards.

Buuuuuuuut a 963 flop is not good new for me, even though it gives me three of a kind, and I groaned audibly when I saw it. The turn, of course, is a 4 to give my opponent a straight. I could still improve to a full house if the river pairs the board, but that doesn't happen, and I'm down to 8000.

Next hand, the same player open raised to 1000. I had AQ, and moved all in for my last 8000. He folded, and after that the table broke, and I was moved to my toughest table yet. There was one mustachioed old man to my left who was quite bad, but then there were two young Asian guys and a pretty competent Brit.

One of my first hands at the table, the Brit opened for 1000 on the button and folded when I reraised to 3000 with AKo in the SB. I only had like 6000 behind, but there are plenty of live players who will and fold to a flop shove, so I figured that would be more +EV than shoving pre-flop.

On my first button, I raised to 850 with QJo, and one of the Asian kids called from the BB. He checked and called a bet on an A34hh flop. I caught a J on the turn and checked it back, but the river blanked, and I folded to a bet.

Next orbit, I opened with KJo and folded to a reraise from the other Asian kid. Then, first to act, I opened to 850 again with AJs, and again got reraised, this time by the first Asian. I had like 7500 behind, and thought for a while about what to do. It was annoying to get reraised again, but I felt like the fact that I'd just been reraised actually made it less likely that he'd be doing it light here. I ultimately folded, but I wasn't happy about it, and I'm still not sure it was correct.

After paying another round of blinds and antes, I was getting rather short, and started looking for a chance to reraise all in over someone's open. The Brit on my right, probably the most aggressive player at the table, made a small raise from middle position to 800, and I decided I was going to move in with anything halfway decent. I found K9 and shoved for 5400. He stared me down and kept shaking his head. "I just don't think you have anything. I haven't got much," he said apologetically as he called and turned over KQs. Ugh. Q on the turn puts the nail in my coffin.

Today I played my second preliminary event in the 2007 World Series of Poker. The game was pot-limit, rather than no limit, Texas Hold 'Em, with a $2000 buy-in. As the name implies, a player may not at any point bet or raise more than the amount in the pot. The game still plays very similarly to no limit hold'em, especially given the relatively shallow stacks we get to work with. The most important difference is that antes are never used in pot limit games, so that the forced blind bets drive the action exclusively. This means pots are smaller pre-flop, and therefore a tighter, more conservative strategy is generally correct. That's not a 100% good thing for me, because although I'm capable of adapting, that's not my preferred style of play. However, smaller pots also mean there are more decisions to be made in any given hand, and since I expect generally to make better decisions than my opponents, that's a source of profit for me.

On the way to the Rio, I had to stop at Bank of America to get some cash. I hate Bank of America. Unfortunately, I got stuck with them after they bought out Fidelity, with whom I'd previously had an account. They constantly mail me credit card offers inside envelopes labeled "Important Account Information!" Jesus Christ, you are a multi-billion dollar financial institution, why are you resorting to fly-by-night, Publisher's Clearinghouse scam tactics?

Anyway, I go up to the teller, swipe my card, enter my PIN, and tell her I want to withdraw money from my checking account. "Would you like to open a Nevada account now that you live out here?"

What in God's name are you blathering about? "I don't live here, I'm just out here for about a month." I made one other withdrawal a few days ago, and I have no idea, even if the teller knew that she would conclude that I now live in Vegas. And even if I did, why would I want to change my account? Because I've always wanted a Nevada routing number on my checks?

"Oh, are you visiting family?"

What? Why do you care, just give me my money. "Kinda, my girlfriend."

She smiles. "Have you heard about our blahblablah credit card?"

Ugh. "Yes." Any chance that will spare me the spiel?

"Great, well you can get blah blah blah APR..."

"Not interested," I interrupt her.

"Maybe just for overdraft protection?"

"No thank you."

"OK, I'm just going to have to get my supervisor to authorize this, one moment." As we are waiting for the supervisor, she looks at me with a smile that tells me more inane badgering is on its way. "Can I ask why you're not interested in the credit card."

Good @#$% God, enough with the credit card! "I'm really not interested."

"It's an $8500 line of credit," the supervisor interjects.

This is unbelievable. I'm a very level-headed guy, and it takes a lot to get an abrupt response out of me. "Seriously, I don't want the credit card."

"OK, then, here you are, sir." The bitch finally signs the form to authorize my withdrawal, and I leave with my money.

My starting table in the tournament was fairly solid, with at least two other young, appropriately aggressive players. The softest looking spots were a middle-aged man with a big brown moustache and an older guy in blue sunglasses. The older guy largely fit my stereotype of loose passive play, but he turned out to have a bit of crazy in him.

We started with 4000 chips and blinds of 25/50. With fewer than 100 big blinds in the starting stacks, this is a pretty shallow structure that doesn't allow a lot of room for mistakes or bad luck. The first pot that I played, a few people still had not taken their seats, and one of the empty spots at the table was in the big blind. The action folded to the old guy, who just called the blind in late position. This is generally a weak play, but even more so when there's no one in the seat to defend the big blind. I decided I was going to raise with any two cards, but then i turned out I had Ace-King anyway. I raised to 275 and took it down. As I was planning on raising thiis guy quite a bit, often as a bluff, I showed him the Ace-King, hoping it would buy me a little credit next time.

Next orbit, one of the better players on my immediate right open raised to 150. This was the first time action had folded to him in late position, and I had a feeling he was going to be opening a pretty wide range. I was prepared to reraise him light, but then found Ace-Queen, which against a late position open is a legitimate reraising hand anyway. I made it 450, and he folded.

A few hands later, the old guy raised to 150, and the kid on my right reraised him to 400, which he called. On a flop of Q94, all different suits, the guy checked and called a bet of 600. The turn was something irrelevant, the old man checked, the kid bet 1000, and then the old man put him all in for 2500 more. Wow, that kind of action from a loose passive old man is usually a pretty strong hand. The kid must have the same thought, because he thought for a long time before calling with a pair of Aces. And the old man has... King-Ten, for nothing more than a gut shot straight draw! Like I said, he had a little crazy to him. The river paired the board, and the kid took down a nice pot.

Soon after, the old guy, who still had a fair number of chips, called the blind bet of 50, the same young guy called also, and I raised to 275 with Ace-nine of spades. The old guy was the only caller, and we saw an AK5 flop. He checked, and I decided to check also and give him a chance to launch some crazy at me. He bet 500 on an 2 turn, which I called. The river was a 3, and he checked. I thought it was unlikely he'd call a bet with anything worse than my top pair weak kicker, so I just turned over my hand, and he mucked.

Next orbit, I opened from late position with a raise of 150 holding Ace-King. A guy on my left who'd been quiet and pursed his lips like a duck bill whenever he played a pot called, and one of the more aggressive players in the small blind reached for some chips. I don't think I had a particularly aggressive image, but nonetheless, some players will often reraise light in this spot with what is called a 'squeeze play.' Basically he is hoping that I will fold often because I'm worried about the guy left to act behind me, and that the guy behind me will not often have a strong hand since he elected not to reraise me the first time. With the blinds plus my raise and a call already in the pot, that's a lot of chips to take down without a fight.

Given that Ace-King is a strong hand in its own right, and that there was some chance the kid was just on a squeeze play, I was prepared to come back over the top of his raise. However, he ended up raising very small, making is just 400. This made me suspicious, because the fact that he's offering such good odds on a call suggests he could have a very strong hand like AA or KK. I opted just to call his reraise after all, as I could get away cheap if I was behind and might be able to keep dominated hands like AQ and KJ around, whereas they would probably fold if I put in another raise. On the right flop, those hands could lose a lot of money to me. The flop was all rags, though, something like 753, and I folded to a bet. Oh well.

Despite his occasional crazy tendencies, the old man was still my best source of chips, so I kept hammering at him, raising his next call with a pair of 9's. The flop was KQ9, all clubs. Trips 9's is a very strong hand, but with all those clubs out there, slowplaying is too risky. I bet 400 into a pot of about 600, and much to my disappointment, he folded.

At this point, the table broke, and we all got moved to empty seats at other tables. Blinds went up to 50/100, and I didn't get much in the way of playable hands. I did open to 300 once with a pair of Queens, and an Italian (actually from Italy, not an Italian-American) called out of his BB. The flop was 7c 5d 2c, he checked, I bet 400, and he raised to 1000. It's pretty unlikely I'm beat here, but there are a lot of scary cards that could fall on the turn, and even if I just call, my opponent may slow down with worse hands than mine anyway. So, I moved all in for about 4000 more, and he folded.

On the last hand before our first break, the action folded to me on the button. I opened for the maximum, which was 350, holding a pair of 4's. The thing is that with a pair of 4's, I probably have the best hand, but anyone holding two overcards, even something as weak as 65, has the odds to call. Hence, I raised a little more than my usual 300. The big blind called anyway, and then he led into me for 500 on a Td 5h 2d flop. Hmmmm. When people call out of position pre-flop, they almost always check to the raiser on the flop, because the raiser usually bets the flop whether he hit it or not. Then the out of position player can raise if he likes his hand. The fact that this guy did attempt to check-raise me made me think he could be trying to steal on the cheap, and although there are two cards higher than my pair on the board, I felt I could still be ahead, so I called.

The turn was the 7h, putting two flush draws and several straight draws on the board. The guy bet 500 again. The pot was now 1750, and he was betting less than 1/3 of that, which gives me good odds if I'm on any kind of draw. This could mean that he himself is on a draw and wants to prevent me from making a larger bet, or that he is worried about the strength of his hand, or that he is bad at poker and trying to 'trap' me. Unfortunately, with about 5000 chips in my stack, I was in an awkward spot. I felt that if I just called the bet, it would be clear I was weak (since I'd passed up two opportunities to raise on a board where a lot of draws are possible), and he'd be able to bluff me on a lot of scary river cards. I also felt that even a small raise could be threatening to some of his better hands, because he will then be in the same situation on the river: even if he suspects he's ahead now, unless he wants to risk 5000 chips to find out, he'll be out position and potentially facing an all in bet on a scary river card. So I made a small raise, to just 1500, prepared to fold if he moved all in.

But he just called, and the river was the Ad, completing the flush that was the most likely draw for him to have had. He checked, which is actually bad to do if he just made a flush, but live players do this all the time anyway. There was about 5000 in the pot, and I had 3500 left in my stack. I contemplated moving all in to represent the flush and possibly knock him off some mid-pair hands that were beating me, but I decided the turn raise wasn't very consistent with me having a flush draw, and so I just gave up and checked. He turned over Ace-five offsuit, exactly the kind of thing I was hoping I could make him fold on the turn. Oh well, he probably would have snapped off my river bluff anyway. Not a great way to start the break.

When we came back, blinds were 75/150, meaning I could afford only 12-13 more orbits if I didn't pick up some chips. I stole the blinds once with A2 in late position and with KQ first to act. Then when I was in the big blind, the A5 guy made a pretty weak raise to just 350 from early position and got one call. I decided I was going to make a squeeze play with any hand that had sufficient showdown value, something like a pair or two big cards. But then I found a pair of Aces, the best possible starting hand! I reraised 900 more, but they both folded. At least that validates my feeling that it would have been a good time to bluff.

That put me back around 5000 after paying the blinds. After another orbit at the table, the first player to act just called 150, and I was next with Ace-Queen. I raised to 600, everyone else folded, and he called. The flop was Ah 3s 4h, giving me top pair with a good kicker. To my surprise, the other player led into me for 1000. There was now 1425 in the pot and about 4500 in my stack, so at this point my only objective is to get as much money in the pot as I can. If I'm beat, there's nothing I can do about it- we're too shallow for me to fold a hand this strong.

So how do I do that? Even my opponent was bluffing or semi-bluffing, there's a good chance he'll give up once I call that big bet unless he improves to a hand that beats me. This is what poker theorists call "reverse implied odds"- if he has this kind of hand, I stand to lose the rest of my chips if he does improve while winning nothing further if he does not. That's an argument to raise now, just to keep him from improving on a semi-bluffing hand.

If he has top pair with a worse kicker, I also think raising is the best way to get paid off, as there are a lot of turn cards that could scare him, and he may think that I am semi-bluffing if I raise. If he has a better hand than mine, well, then he is just going to win a big pot, and there's not anything I can do about it. So I raised, he moved all in, I called, and he showed me pocket 4's for three of a kind. The turn put another heart on the board, and since I had the Qh, this actually gave me a chance to win on the river, but alas, it was not to be. I lost the pot and was eliminated.

This last hand actually presents a very interesting situation, because although I was never the statistical favorite to win the pot, not pre-flop and certainly not on the flop, I believe that the way the hand as a whole will play out results in me showing a long-term profit. Allow me to explain:

When my opponent calls the raise to 600 pre-flop holding a pair of 4's, he is hunting for that third 4 on the flop to make three of a kind. He knows I'm likely to have fairly strong hand to be raising him from early position, and the times that he catches trips, he'll have a well-disguised monster and expects me to have something strong enough to pay him off. This is what poker theorists call "implied odds"- although his 44 is actually a slight favorite over my AQ, he has to realize that I could easily have a pair bigger than his 4's, in which case rather than being a slight favorite, he's going to be a big dog. He is not counting on the strength of his lowly pair winning the pot unimproved. Rather, he is speculating, making a small investment pre-flop with the intention of either winning a big pot when he makes his trips or getting away cheap when he doesn't.

But does he actually get paid off often enough for this strategy to be profitable? I think that he does not. Since he has already called 150, my raise charges him 450 more to see the flop. The times that he doesn't flop trips, he's generally going to have to check and fold to a bet, and I'm going to bet most flops, whether or not they improve my hand. So for example on a K85 flop, he will be folding the best hand, but he has to fold, since I could easily have AK, KJ, AA, or many other hands that have him drawing nearly dead. He'll only hit that 4 only about 15% of the time, which means that he'll be checking and folding about 85% of the time.

I have 4500 chips left in my stack, so if he wins all of them the 15% of the time that he does hit the 4, he'll come out alright. However, he isn't going to get my stack anywhere near that often. If the flop had been K84, he would have gotten one bet at most out of me, because once he bet or called a bet, I would have given up on my AQ and kept the rest of my money. He got a "perfect storm" flop that gave me a strong hand and him an even stronger one. Much more often, he'll miss and get bluffed out, or he'll hit, but I won't have a hand that can pay him off. In short, the implied odds aren't there for him to make that call pre-flop, even though he happened to win a big pot this time simply because the stars aligned in his favor.

Although this is analysis of the situation is a little rough around the edges, I think it illustrates an interesting point. Even though 100% of my money went into the pot when I was behind in the hand, I'm actually the one who stands to make money in this situation long term. Having won a big pot, however, my opponent will likely never realize that he was in fact making a marginally losing play. That's the magic of poker, and what makes it such a difficult game to master: losing plays work often enough to deceive players into thinking they are winning strategies. And winning players often find themselves playing Monday morning quarterback from the sidelines.

WSOP $5000 6-Max Trip Report

After the $5K yesterday, I played a $512+13 ten-handed satellite. It was winner take all in tournament lammers, but since this was live poker, my understanding was that deals were almost always made.

The play was predictably bad. Tons of limping pre-flop, no one ever raised without having AK or TT+. Oh except one guy who raised A8 then stacked off on a 764 flop, losing to a set of 6's.

Half the table was comprised of a group of Mexicans who were all friends with each other. One lady was concerned about collusion, but I think she was just a racist, cuz the guys only spoke English at the table and weren't like constantly getting involved in the same pots or anything. One of the Mexicans, a kind of fat guy with a goatee and some badass tatoos, got into a little spat with some European donk who was insisting that a guy who called all in on the river (European wasn't involved in the pot) had to reveal his cards even though he mucked when the better turned over the nuts.

The Mexican guy seemed mostly to be messing with the European, who was taking it way too seriously. They called over the floor, who confirmed that the hand should have been shown. The Mexican made a big show of apologizing for questioning the European.

A few hands later, once again a pot the Euro wasn't involved in, some guy who barely spoke English through in a five hundred chip and held up five fingers. The dealer announced a raise, and the European asked if it shouldn't be a call, since the guy didn't say raise. The dealer ignored him, but the Mexican guy laughed and said, "I bet you were the hall monitor at your school. Always run to the principal's office and tell him when people are smoking in the parking lot." Whole table laughed at the fuming European.

Still at 25/50 (2000 starting chips, 15 minute levels, shit structure), the funny Mexican opens for 250. I flat call with QQ cuz from what I've seen he's capable of reading hands and can probably play pretty well against a 3-bet when he's opened so large to begin with. Two other guys call, whoops. Flop T 8 5, check to the Mexican, he bets 850, I shove 1600, guy to my left (the one who doubled with set of 6's) insta-re-shoves, and I know I'm toast. I'm sure any of these donkeys is capable of calling my all in cold with worse than QQ, but they'd have to think about it. The insta-call is scary.

THEN, the Mexican starts going on about how sick this is and how he's got a big hand and finally he shoves in too and I have to be just smoked. But nope Mexican has JTs, other guy has 97 for an open-ender, and my hand holds up.

We get down to four-handed, and I've got half the chips in play, though blinds are humongous. The 97 guy to my left is second in chips, then there's some white kid and one of the Mexicans both kinda short. 97 guy proposes a 500 chip save. Are you insane? The kid has 2 BB's and no idea how to play a stack that size, we would just be giving him $500 for no reason. I decline the chop, and instantly win some enemies at the table.

I bust the kid with A2s on my button v his last BB, and again decline a $500 save, since I still have half the chips in play. Mexican open completes from the SB, I find AK and shove, showing it when he folds (since I'm going to be shoving a lot). "Thought so," he said. "I folded A9." Wow, how terrible to open complete that and then fold to a shove. No way I am dealing with this guy still in it.

Amazingly, he shoves at his next five opportunities, and every time, he shows an Ace. Must be nice. At this point I'm blinded down to just below average, and I tell the guys I'm now willing to do the $500 save. "Why now but not before?" 97 asks.

"I had a lot more chips then."

He stares at me like I just raped a nun. "Oh, so now that you have less chips, you want to make a deal?"

"Yes," I tell him very simply.

They both agree, and we play on. I shove A3 from the button for 7 BB's, and the Mexican tanks. What now? He finally calls with AJ (tough spot there, amigo), but I spike my 3. "Why you put all those chips in there with A3?" he asks me disgustedly.

"It wasn't really that many chips." We play on, he keeps picking up shoving hands. I correctly muck A9 when he standard raisies the button, and he shows us AJ. Must be nice.

Blinds go up again, I shove A3 for 6 BB from the button, now 97 insta-calls. Christ, how do these weak-tight nits get dealt premiums every fucking time? He's got KK, and I'm down to 500, which is only half the BB I now have to post. 97 open limps the button, Mexican completes, and on the flop they agree verbally to check it down and have the dealer just put out the board all at once. Blatant collusion, but whatever. I make two pair to triple up.

Next hand, Mexican min-raises the button, I've got 1/3 of my stack in the pot blind so I try to call as confidently as possible with 94o, but BB calls the min-raise anyway. Board is 875, BB is going to check, but then Mexican bets out of turn. BB is a little offended Mex wasn't going to check it down with him, but then decides he's going to do the betting. He bets, Mex shoves 66, he calls with K7. Mex spikes on the turn to eliminate me and collect 75% of the chips in play.

The second I'm eliminated, they agree to a 50/50 chop. I mean, they agree instantly, no haggling or anything. My head explodes thinking about how much equity the Mexican is giving up here. Each of them pays me 250 from his half and they both leave happy.

Oh, and just to be clear, 76 was not one of the Mexicans. These guys weren't buddies or anything, just live players who enjoy making awful deals. The atrocious deal making in these things alone is probably enough edge to justify playing them, never mind that the play is terrible at all stages. The only problem is that I had to stand in line for like 45 minutes to get a seat in one.

Oh the low rake is a sweet deal, too. Factor in a $10 meal voucher, and you're only paying $3 juice.

Went out to the Rio last night, primarily to meet Nate from 2+2. Traffic was atrocious, so it took me like twice as long to get there as it should have, but I still had about two hours to play. I got a seat in a new game, and when I got there, there were like five people at the table and three other piles of chips with no player in sight. The dealer asked if we wanted to get started, and I was of course all for it, but this thirty-something Jewish dude on my left who looked like a giant prick said he wouldn't play until a sixth got there. He sounded like a giant prick when he said it.

Table didn't look too wild, mostly solid-looking guys who weren't smiling or talking or laughing or anything. A few were in for as little as $500, but there were a couple with $1200-$1500, and the prick on my left (the only guy at the table wearing sunglasses, and they were prick sunglasses) had bought in for $4000.

The table played like a tight/standard live game, plenty of limping and calling, not a lot of betting and raising. Easy but not especially profitable or interesting. The prick on my left was mostly folding and not saying anything, occasionally he would he would grumble quietly to me about the limpers, but unlike me, he never raised them light. He seemed to think I was the only decent player at the table and wanted to have a bitch session with me about how bad everyone else was, but he seemed like a giant prick and also kind of bad in his own way so I just kind of nodded.

On my right was a Brazilian guy in headphones who didn't like how tight the table was playing and kept initiating deals where the entire table agreed to straddle for an orbit. On my straddle, there were a few limpers, and I raised $100 on top with whatever two cards I was holding. Everyone folded, and the Brazilian complimented me on my steal. I smiled and mucked.

Later in the orbit, I raised his limp, he called and check-folded to a bet on a TT9 flop. He asked what I had, and I told him an Ace, which was true.

A few orbits later, everyone folded to him in the BB, and he completed my straddle. I knew he expected me to raise, and I was prepared to do it with a wide range, but I decided just to check 76o. Flop KQ8cc, we check it through. Turn offsuit 5, he checks, I bet $35, he raises to $75. Easy call. River offsuit 4 that's gin baby! He checks. Now there's very little chance he's bluffing with such a small turn check-raise, and all the most obvious draws missed, so I know he's checking cuz he thinks he's good and wants me to bluff at it. So I oblige and bet $250 at a pot of like $190. He tanks for a minute, calls, and mucks when I table the nuts.

A little while later, I completed 98o from the SB after a few people had limped a straddle. Flop 567r, I lead for 100, some dude raises to 250 with 150 behind, and calls off the rest. A 7 on the river worries me, but he shows 65, and I scoop the pot. The prick on my left, who had played like three hands in the last hour, complained that all the donkeys were giving me their money. Can't win if you don't play, sir!!!!

The table still sucked, and I was up like $850 at this point, so I called Nate to see if he wanted to go early for dinner. He did, so I cut out before my next BB, and we went over to the Sao Paolo Cafe.

The Sao Paolo isn't anything spectacular, but they are close to the Amazon Room and will give you a pretty tasty meal fairly quickly and cheaply. I haven't been many other places in the Rio, but none of them look spectacular, so Sao Paolo is a solid staple. Highly recommended for WSOP dinner breaks.

Nate is hands down my favorite 2+2 poster. There are plenty of people who have won a lot more money than he has and are probably better at poker, but few of them have his range of expertise (he can discuss betting strategy after the second draw in Badugi as intelligently as he can re-stealing at a MTT final table) or his ability to express ideas in a clear and concise way. It was a pleasure to meet him, as he seemed to be an interesting guy in real life as well.

After dinner we got coffee at Starbucks with his roommate, 2+2 poster Pete Fabrizio (sorry, Pete, despite asking you twice, I forgot your real name), who had been sweating the $10K PLO final table. Pete is apparently a PLO genius.

We didn't get to talk much PLO, but he did say something interesting in response to my complaints about the tight prick at my 5/10 table who inexplicably bought in for $4000: "The last $1000 in his stack is usually going to go in as a big dog." This concept isn't revolutionary, but I'd never thought about it in that way before. A super tight player usually gets his money in good for the first few bets. I mean, if I'm open raising 50% of hands from the CO and this guy is only calling top 10% on his button, then obviously he's going to be ahead pre-flop the times he calls me. But with the cards he's playing, he's not going to make a lot of 400BB hands. When that much money goes in on a 9QK flop, for instance, it's likely that I've made a straight against his set.

Anyway, I watched the final three of the PLO tournament for a little while, but it was moving pretty slowly, so I went and got myself on a 5/10 NL list. It was a long list, though, and while I was waiting, I heard them call open seating for a $1030 single table satellite. That'll do.

This guy who looked like an Arab Andy Bloch organized a $300 last longer, and I thought about getting in on it, but decided it would be in my interest to have other people at the table concerned about busting so that I could shove into their BB's. It certainly didn't affect Arab Andy's play, because while the rest of the table was tight to a fault, he was making absurd calls and shoves left and right and sucking out pretty consistently.

We didn't lose a single player until the 200/400 level, which with 5000 starting chips is unheard of. Across the table from me was some bearded dude in his 40's who was pretty consistently in a grumpy mood. He complained about the dealer exposing cards, the speed at which we were moving, the way others were playing, etc.

The second player to go out was this kid on my right shoved 4600 with T9o on his BB when Arab Andy opened for 1600 at the 300/600 level. Andy thought for a while and ended up calling with QJ. Obviously he should have been calling any two, but Beardy made fun of him for that call. A few hands later another guy shoved 3600 or so and I snapped him off with AA which put me second in chips behind Andy.

Then Beardy opened for 1600 and the SB shoved 2200 more. "Why do I feel like I'm dominated?" he started hemming and hawing over the most straight-forward call ever and nearly folded. He looked at AAB and said, with an air of superiority, "I've got the same hand you had, it's half as much for me to call, there's three times as much in the pot, and I'm still thinking about." Well sir that just makes you six times as much of an idiot, doesn't it? Finally he called with QJ and beat A6 (which he criticized the guy for shoving).

When blinds hit 500/1000, we were 6-handed, and I shoved KQo UTG for 8500. The guy to my left called pretty quickly, and then the guy to his left tanked and finally called. Whoops. First guy shows AK, second shows... 55!!! Well that just pads the pot for my inevitable suckout. Flop JJT, turn 9, BINK! I dodge a Q or 5 river and bust two players to take back the chip lead. A few hands later, with blinds capped at 2000/4000, the guy in last shoves, Beardy calls all in, and Andy calls them both with KJs. First guy had A3, Beardy had TT, and Andy makes the flush to bust them both.

As soon as we got heads up, I offered a 50-50 chop. I had only 40% of the chips, but the last satellite I played, the last two standing chopped 50-50 when one dude had 75% of the chips, so I figured it was worth a shot. AAB wanted 60-40. I proposed 55-45, but he wouldn't take it, so I just took the even chop. Even though he had been the worst player at the table, his stupidly loose aggressive tendencies were probably going to help him play well with huge blinds, and I didn't want to flip a coin for $10,000. I would have expected a skill edge against Beardy the old nit and probably insisted on getting an edge in a chop, but with AAB, I think it really was going to be a crapshoot who won.

 

Don't Make Your Girlfriend Watch You Play Poker

I am sitting in a 5/10 game at the Rio when this giant tool takes a seat next to me. He's got the sunglasses, the hair gel, fashionably unbuttoned shirt, and a ball cap that reads "Philly" in what I guess was supposed to look like graffiti letters. He clearly thinks he's hot [censored] as he takes a fat roll of bills from his pocket and peels off twenty. Then, in completely unballer fashion, he thinks better of it, puts half the bills back, and buys in for $1000.

Meanwhile, his girlfriend is pulling up a seat slightly behind him and to the right. Note that this still takes up some space at the table, as the guy is sitting considerably closer to me than he otherwise would be, and because he is lefthanded, he jostles me several times as he stacks his chips.

The girl didn't have to be unattractive. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and large breasts. But she was a thickalicious girl in a very short skirt that highlighted her thunder thighs. Her plunging neckline revealed quite a lot of cleavage, but her completely unsupportive bra gave her a bad case of pancake boob.

I was not happy with this guy for depositing his stubbly face and his busted girlfriend in my peripheral vision, and I resolved to make him regret it.

He posts $10 in the CO, and another new player at the table has already posted $10 as well. Action folds to the tool, who raises his post to $50. I resolve to pop him with any two from the button. I find 72o, but a deal's a deal, so I make it $150. He glances at my stack, ponders a moment, and calls.

The flop comes 444, and immediately he asks me "Did you make a full house, too? I made a full house. I check." I hate it when people run their mouths during a hand. After a few moments of thought, I bet $180, and he calls.

Turn is a T, and he checks. [censored] Zeebo Theorem can I really get this tool to fold whatever [censored] full house he has? If I really had a big pair I'd just price him in on the turn and river since he's only got a pot-sized bet left in his stack and probably no understanding of what "pot odds" actually means. But that's exactly why I can't run a bluff that way, and if I just shove now, he'll probably put me on AK like the live "pro" tool that he is. So after much thought I check behind.

The river is a K, and I get as excited about this as I would if I really had AK. "Damn," he says with deliberately, conspicuously bad acting. "I let you get there. You got AK. I should have bet the turn, huh? OK, I check." As I am pondering, he keeps mentioning AK, and every time he does, I have to wait a few more seconds before I can bluff. Finally he shuts his stubbly mouth long enough for me to announce a bet of $350. Dickface turbo-mucks and sneers at me with an intolerable air of superiority, "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

I flip my 72o, and his face drops like a rock as the implications of this hand become clear to him. Here he has taken his filly to come watch him own this "high stakes" poker game, and not only has he lost, not only has he been bluffed, but some kid took one look at him and decided that it would be profitable to play the worst hand in poker against him. It's not like I missed a flush draw and had no choice but to bluff the river. Having never played a pot with this guy in my life, I took one look at him and decided to run a multi-street bluff from scratch with seven-deuce off-suit.

His girl starts consoling him with thigh stroking, but of course her pity is the last thing he wants right now. She is supposed to be in awe of him, not feeling sorry for him. "I wish you had flopped two pair. I would have taken all your money," he tells me. 77 I guess? Yeah, if the case seven and a deuce had flopped, you probably would have stacked me. Congratulations. I kind of half shrug but still have not said a word to him.

Now he puts $1000 more in bills on the table and is on mega-tilt, limping into every pot, calling any raise, and firing at lots of flops. Amazingly, the table is letting him get away with it, and I can't pick up anything to play against him. Finally a nice guy on my left cold calls a reraise from the kid with A's in the SB, leads a rag flop, and shoves over the kid's raise. The kid calls but mucks when the dude flips his hand on the river and storms away from the table with his woman tripping after him in her skinny heels.

I left the house around 11AM on Friday bound for the Rio and the main event of the 2007 World Series of Poker. Vegas is experiencing record highs for the weak, with the thermometer topping out near 120 degrees. It's enough to leave me sweating after a two block walk to the car. As I cruised up I-15 with A/C on full blast, George Thorogood came on the radio. I'm not generally the sort to sing out loud, but this seemed like a good way to get pumped up, so I declared along with him that I was, "B-b-b-b-b-aaaaaad. Bad to the bone!" Then, sadly, an even more fitting song came on: Elton John's "Don't Go Breaking My Heart".

This year, 6000 people are expected to enter the $10,000 poker tournament. If that number proves accurate, then there will be 5999 broken hearts. No one enters the tournament without a dream of winning it, and in fact, everyone has a chance, no matter how slim, of actually taking home the bracelet. One of the keys to poker's appeal is that it blends elements of skill and luck. The best players win often enough to show a profit, but they still lose often enough to give everyone else a chance. Even though I believe I had a substantial edge over last year's field, I was still very fortunate to finish in the money. There were many players better than I who did not do as well, and many players worse than I who did better. That's poker, and heart-breaking as it can be, it's also the beauty of the game.

In the last year, I've improved a ton as a poker player. Nevertheless, it is more likely than not that I will win nothing in this year's tournament. After all, only 10% of us will win anything. A top player, and I am not quite in that echelon, might have a 25-30% chance of taking home a prize. This is why it is so important to focus on winning the largest prize possible, even if this means slightly increasing your chances of winning nothing at all. Since you will cash infrequently, it is crucial to make the most you can when you make anything at all.

After reporting on the three preliminary WSOP events that I played without cashing, I got a few concerned e-mails or phone calls asking me what was wrong. Not to say that I played flawlessly, but there's really nothing at all out of the ordinary about losing several tournaments in a row. I've played hundreds of poker tournaments on the internet this year and finished in the money in only 17% of them. This includes streaks of a dozen or more tournaments played without winning anything. Nevertheless, I've seen a return of about 35% on the money I've invested in this way. That's just how poker tournaments work: you lose most of the time, but occasionally you win big. Really big. The winner of the 2006 WSOP main event took home $12 million, the largest cash prize in sports history.

So that's what's at stake as I slide into my seat just before noon. When the tournament director announces "shuffle up and deal", four of the ten seats at my table are still empty. This is not a good sign. Only very good players can afford to be blase about showing up on time for a $10,000 poker tournament.

This year, we start with 20,000 chips, and the blinds begin at 50-100. I try to size up my table immediately. I identify at least two players who, though unknown to me, seem to know what they are doing. Thankfully, they are both to my immediate right, meaning that they will almost always act before I do when we play pots together, which gives me a tremendous information advantage.

My goal is to avoid playing pots out of position against these guys, but as it goes with the best laid plans, this one was quickly laid to waste. The guy two seats to my right was very young, probably younger than I am, and very aggressive. He was opening literally 50% of the pots with a raise to 350, which meant that if I wanted to play any hands at this table, I was going to have to tangle with him. Early on, he raised to 350 on the button (meaning he was last to act before the blinds, and could therefore raise an even wider range of hands than usual), and the other good player called in the small blind. In the big blind, I had Ace-Queen, which is a huge hand relative to the stuff these guys could be playing. Still, I'd be happy taking the pot down pre-flop, so I made a pretty large reraise to 1500. Thankfully, the button folded. The small blind called, but that was less worrisome, because I had position on him.

The dealer spread a flop of Q95, all different suits. This gave me top pair with the best possible kicker, which is a monster hand in this situation. There were so few draws on the board that I felt comfortable checking as well when my opponent checked to me, figuring that he'd be more likely to pay off with worse hands if I didn't bet the flop.

The turn was a 3 and put a possible diamond flush draw on the board. My opponent bet 3500, which I called. The river was the 8 of diamonds, and he checked to me. I contemplated betting my pair of queens for value, but his turn bet was so big that I think it's almost impossible for him to put me on a worse hand than the one I have. If the diamond draw had missed on the river, I could bet hoping he would put me on a busted flush draw, but here, I just turned over my hand. He mucked, and I won my first pot of the 2007 WSOP, and a sizeable one at that.

The young guy two seats to my right kept up the aggression, and I reraised him once pre-flop as a bluff. His constant raising had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the table, either, and they started playing back at him as well. Around this time, I found myself holding pocket Tens one off the button and staring at yet another raise from this guy. I should have reraised him, but for whatever reason I elected to just call and play a pot in a position. A Danish guy who had been quiet and seemed like a solid player also called in the SB, and the three of us saw a 8d 6d 3h flop. The aggressive guy bet 800, I raised to 2500, and then the Dane, whom I expected to fold instantly, started counting chips. That's not good. Finally he put out 2500 for a call, and the other guy folded.

Wow. I stared at him, trying to figure out what he could have to call that raise from out of position. He wasn't getting the right odds to play just a flush or straight draw, and he seemed smart enough to know that. But with so many draws possible, I'd expect him to put in another raise with a monster hand like three of a kind rather than give two players a chance to outdraw him on the turn.

It seemed to me his most logical holding would be either 86 for top two pair or something like 9d 7d for both a flush and a straight draw. Based on that read, I should have bet the 9h that fell on the turn, but his call scared me so much that I feared a check-raise and declined to bet. The river was the 7d, making the final board 36789 with no flush possible. My pair of T's had suddenly turned into a straight, the second best possible hand. The Dane bet 3000, and I raised to 11,000. On the one hand, this is a really big raise that I can't expect him to call very often. However, when I raise here, I am representing either a straight or a bluff. Whether he calls with worse hands depends on the frequency with which he thinks I am bluffing. If I make a smaller raise, it will be harder for him to think I am bluffing, and consequently easier for him to fold. Thus, I raise big because that is the only way my bet could plausibly be construed as a bluff. He folded 9d 7d face up, and I won another big pot.

Just as I was starting to feel good about things, a young guy in a Cardrunners sweatshirt sauntered over to take one of the empty seats. Cardrunners is a subscription-based website where you can watch instructional videos, with commentary, of some excellent internet poker players as they do their thing. This sweatshirt already identified the new player as one of a few individuals, and now I just needed to figure out which he was. I watched as he passed his seat card to the dealer, and I saw the name I was praying not to see... Brian Townsend, AKA aba20, AKA sbrugby.

Brian is the best poker player you've never heard of, and if you have heard of him, well then he may just be the best player you have heard of. He's a regular winner in the largest poker game available online, which is a no limit hold 'em game with $300 and $600 blinds. The buyin for the game is $60,000, and readers of Brian's blog (http://www.cardrunners.com/fusetalk/blog/index.cfm?forumid=31) know that it is not unheard of for him to win or lose hundreds of thousands of dollars in a day. This guy voluntarily plays nosebleed stakes heads up with Phil Ivey... and wins.

I was not thrilled to be at his table. Thankfully, he was playing very tight, and I was able to stay out of his way. Nevertheless, I decided to investigate a rumor I'd heard that you could request a table change at the WSOP. I stood up from the table, found a floor man, and asked him if this was true. He looked at me like I had two heads. Oh well, guess I'm stuck with these guys.

To my great joy, however, our table was one of the first to get broken down so that we could be redistributed into recently vacated seats. My new table looked much less scary, populated primarily by a bunch of middle-aged small business owner types. These guys are great because they are usually poker enthusiasts with substantial non-poker income who can afford to play the main event even though they often cannot count on having a positive expectation.

To my left was a young, very tricky, loose, and aggressive player who was either Mexican or from the Mississippi Delta, I never did figure out which. He knew a bunch of the staff at the Rio and was almost certainly a professional poker player. He gave me a ton of headaches at this table, and I left with a lot of respect for his game.

To my right was one of the strangest looking men I have ever seen in my life. I think he was either an oil tycoon, a pirate, or both. He was a short, rotund, well-dressed, heavily-jowled older man sporting a large white Stetson hat and, I kid you not, an eye patch. This wasn't one of those temporary deals you get when you have eye surgery, this was an honest-to-goodness shiver-me-timbers pirate patch. Here's a picture, though unfortunately the patch is a little tough to see: http://www.printroom.com/ViewGalleryPhoto.asp?userid=worldseriesofpoker&tcount=26&scount=7&gallery_id=753475&image_id=6.

To his right was a guy from Eugene, Oregon with a shaved head and goatee who looked eerily like a tall, white version of my friend Dave. Also like Dave, this guy was a Raiders fan. Unfortunately, Tall White Dave didn't last long, and he was replaced by a kind of annoying guy named Cory. I didn't play many hands at this table, but still managed to go into the first break with over 30,000 chips, an increase of 50% from my starting stack and a great spot to be in relative to the average, which was only like 22,000 at this point. I even heard a rumor that the chipleader had less than 40,000, though that seems unlikely.

After break, blinds doubled to 100/200 and things went downhill quickly for me. I finally got dealt a pair of Aces and raised to 600 from early position. Two guys who both owned car dealerships called me, one from late position, the other from the small blind. I bet 1500 on a Tc 7s 5c flop, and only the small blind called. He checked and called 3000 on a 6d turn. The river was an ugly Qc, completing a possible flush draw. My opponent bet into me for 7000, and I reluctantly folded. He later got caught bluffing in a similar spot, so I may have folded the best hand, but it seemed reasonable at the time. This, combined with a few aggressive moves that got snapped off by the tricky guy on my left knocked me down around 20,000.

Not a whole lot more happened in this level, and I went to break with a slightly below average stack of 22,000. I came back to find that blinds had doubled again to 200/400. This Cory guy I mentioned who had replaced Tall White Dave at the table seemed like he was going to be annoying. There were two car dealers at the table, and although Cory wasn't one of them, he sure looked like a man who could sell you a used vehicle. Here's a picture: http://www.pokerstarsblog.com/2007/07/2007-world-series-more-glory-for-cory.html. As soon as he sat down, he started running his mouth about nothing in particular, just kind of trying to loosen up the table and saying stuff like, "Who's having fun? Everyone's so serious. Eh, look at this guy, he keeps looking at me like he wishes I would shut up. Hahaha." He was talking through even really straight-forward decisions every time he played a hand and generally wasting everyone's time.

Most of that stopped after a little while except when the cameras were around. I didn't know this at the time, but this Cory guy made the final few tables at the 2005 main event and went deep in a few other tournaments (there's a little bio of him in the link above). For whatever reason, ESPN was always checking in on him, and even though he mostly quieted down at the table, he'd always start yammering again when they were around. I tried to call him on it but to no avail.

I spent most of this level pretty card dead, and the few times I did make a play at the pot, nobody believed me. Then I finally got a pair of Aces, raised, and everyone believed me.

There was this Frenchman at the table who was intermittenly reading a book (specifically I think it may have been a Star Wars novel!) while at the table. He'd shown down some weird hands after raising from early position, so I wasn't giving his raises a ton of respect. He opened to 1100, but from what I could tell, though he didn't have his book out at the time, he wasn't paying much attention to the hand in question. A kind of loose, middle-aged guy from Washington State called the raise, and the action folded to me on the button. I was holding King-Queen and sitting on a stack of 16,500. This seemed like a good spot to make a squeeze play, because I'd be putting in 25% of my stack against an early position raiser, which looks very strong, and although I would appear committed to the pot, I'd actually have room to fold if the Frenchman moved all in.

I raised to 4500 after some thought, and the Frenchman folded quickly, as I believed he would. Then the Washingtonian stared me down and called. Those who don't play tournament poker may not grasp the significance of this, but it is very odd just to call a big bet like this out of position. At this point the size of the pot is about equal to the size of my stack, so I would expect the guy who is going to be out of position post-flop either to fold or to move all in on me rather than putting himself in an awkward spot.

Based on how he's played the hand, it looks an awful lot like he has a medium pocket pair. Pre-flop, my hand is essentially a coin flip against any pair Jacks or worse, so I would have been willing to call his all in. I would rather not flip a coin for my tournament life, but at this point there was a lot of money in the pot, so it would be worth it. However, the flop came out J83, and only then did my opponent bet into me. While I could have gotten all in pre-flop, with five cards to come, I now had only two chances to hit my King or Queen and consequently had to fold to his bet. It really sucks to have to fold at this point, leaving myself with only 12,000 chips, but I do think it's the correct play, and it's what I did.

If he's going to call my reraise with a medium sized pair, then this is actually a really good way for him to play it. However, I think he should be folding to the reraise, which is why I made it in the first place. If I have two high unpaired cards like KQ, AQ, or AK, he's got 50% equity in the pot, so given the hand I actually had, he played well. However, the problem for him is that I might also have a pair higher than his, in which case he has only about 20% equity. I could very easily have JJ, QQ, KK, or AA with this preflop action, in which case he is going to lose a big pot. But in this case, he was fortunate that I had indeed missed the flop with my overcards, and he won the pot.

So I went into the dinner break with 12,000 chips and a bad taste in my mouth. It was really frustrating, after getting off to such a good start, to find myself short-stacked so quickly. On the plus side, though, my dad and brother had come out to Vegas to watch me play and generally to hang out, so it was good to see them. We got dinner at the Sao Paolo Cafe. Well, actually, just I ate, as they'd already eaten, but I bought my brother a beer, because he is now 21. When they came to watch me last year, he kept getting carded and kicked out of the Rio. He was like three months shy of 21 at the time. This year, now that he's legal, no one's carded him yet.

Blinds were still 200/400 after dinner, but now every player had to ante 50 chips every hand as well, which made stealing the pot pre-flop even more important. My chip stack would afford me barely ten times around the table, meaning I wasn't quite desperate, but I needed to get some chips soon. I folded for the first orbit or so, then got dealt the King of hearts and the Queen of clubs in middle position. I came in for a raise of 1100. The tricky guy on my left called, and the Frenchman called in the small blind. Man, I am just getting no respect at all. I raise 10% of my stack and get called twice?!?!?

The flop came out J84, all hearts. Holding the K of hearts, I was satisfied with this. There was now 4200 in the pot and 10,000 left in my stack. My goal in this situation to get someone to take a stab at the pot, at which point I can raise all in. I may get the better to fold a pair, and even he does call, I'll probably have an almost 50% chance of winning the pot. The Frenchman checked, and I checked, hoping the aggressive guy would bet. He did not oblige, but the turn card was a King, giving me top pair with a good kicker and also the second best possible flush draw. I checked again, as the pain in my neck on my left seemed almost unable to keep himself from bluffing after getting checked to twice. But still, he didn't oblige. The river was something irrelevant, and possibly I should have just bet my hand for value at this point, but I checked one more time hoping against hope that the guy might bluff. No such luck, though. He checked, and I won the pot but no further money. It's really the hallmark of a good player that he was always betting and raising when I didn't want him to but that I couldn't induce a bluff from him when I needed it.

Captain Ahab on my right got eliminated and was replaced by a pretty well-known tournament player who's had success both live and online. I don't know his real name, but he plays under the online moniker UGotPzd. One of the car dealers at the table recognized him and pronounced his screen name "You Got Pezzed." Uh, sir, I don't think that's what he was going for, but it's cute that you thought that.

The car dealer, it turns out, was none other than internet player brsavage, who has in the past been ranked the number one tournament player online by both Poker Stars and an online site called Pocket Fives that tracks such things. Brsavage has recorded some videos for PokerXFactor, a site similar to the Cardrunners one that I mentioned before. I actually stirred up some bad blood with him by publicly questioning some of his advice in a kind of flippant way on an internet forum, but quite a few very strong players agreed me about the content of what I said, and Savage himself didn't even really dispute it. He's got no idea who I am, but I've got some idea of how he plays, which is nice. He certainly held his own at the table, but I didn't think he was anything special.

I also had a bit of history with UGP. From what I know, he is a smart and courageous player who is very willing to make a heroic call if he suspects you are bluffing. Though he had no idea who I was, just from the fact that I was wearing a Poker Stars hat he could probably make some informed guesses about how I play. He was open raising quite a lot pre-flop, but I knew he knew that with my stack I was going to be looking for an opportunity to make a move on him. The implication was that I needed to play a wider range of hands for value and not look to bluff him.

Fortunately, I got dealt a pair of Aces on one of the many occasions when he opened to 1200. I very rarely slowplay a hand, in part because it's unnecessary and in part because I am so aggressive with weaker hands that I can usually get action on my monsters. With about 14,000 chips, however, it was going to be awkward to reraise here. Even UGP's penchant for heroic calls might not be enough to get me action if I raised. So, I just called. We went heads up to a flop of 7h 4s 3s. He bet 2200, and I moved all in on him. This was going to be a key hand for me. If I could get a call here, I'd be a huge favorite to win and double my stack, which would get me back to average and buy me a lot of breathing room. I knew UGP was expecting me to make a move on him, and this was a great board for it, as there were a lot of draws I could be semi-bluffing.

As he stared me down, I did my best to remember how I felt, and hopefully therefore how I looked, when I made my unsuccessful bluff against the Swede in the 5K event. I planted my face on my hands, which were balled into fists obscuring my mouth. Through my dark sunglasses and under the rim of my black Poker Stars hat, I stared hard at the felt. My heart was legitimately pounding, because although I knew I had the best hand, I was nonetheless putting my life on the line for the first time. If my opponent did call and got lucky, he could eliminate me right here. And even worse, there was the risk of him folding when I so badly needed the double up. I just hoped that UGP, seated next to me, could feel the heavy, rhythmic thumping through the table.

Author Mike Caro, known as the mad genius of poker, argues that players have a "calling reflex." It's more exciting to call than to fold, so everyone looks for excuses to call. If you suspect your opponent is about to fold, he suggests, you might as well do something to trigger his calling refles. If it doesn't work, well, he was going to fold anyway, so no harm done.

I swallowed hard and shifted in my chair. "Call," UGP announced, tossing 10,000 chips defiantly into the pot and flipping over a pair of 9's. I turned up my Aces, and he nodded. "I was afraid of that." When the money went in, I was a 90% favorite to win the pot. Only if the turn or river was one of the last two nines in the deck could my opponent pull ahead. It is very, very rare to get your money in this good. I was fortunate both that my opponent had a pair as good as 9's and that we got a flop with no cards higher than his pair, making it easier for him to make a big call against me.

My hand held up, and suddenly I was back in good shape. Still, you can see what a role luck plays. Even after a lucky pre-flop match-up and a lucky flop, there was stil a 10% chance that I could have been eliminated from the tournament right there. And to win an event like this, a player will need to survive much worse than 90% odds many times. So there's a lot that can go wrong to cause you to get your money in bad, and a lot that can go wrong even after you've gotten your money in good.

But I digress. I was rolling now, and when I got another chance to play a pot with UGP, I took it. He open raised to 1200 from the small blind, and I called 800 more with Queen-Jack in my big blind. The flop was a very favorable KQT. He checked, and I checked also. The turn was an 8 and put a second spade on the board. He checked and called a bet of 2000. The river was the Qs, giving me trips. It also completed a possible flush, but there wasn't much reason for me to worry about that. UGP checked, I bet 6000, and he called and mucked his hand disgustedly when I showed. I'm thinking he probably made a pair of Kings.

Next orbit, I reraised one of his raises with a pair of Tens. He looked at me, said, "Oh you're going to be trouble, aren't you?", and called. The flop was a beautiful Kh Th 7s, giving me three of a kind. There were way too many draws out there for me to trap, and with him already suspicious that I was bluffing, no reason I'd want to trap anyway. I guess he didn't have anything, though, because he checked and folded. Oh well.

I got moved away from the table before UGP could take any revenge on me, and the new table looked pretty favorable for me. There were a lot of short stacks and only one guy who had more than my 50K. That guy, however, had well over 100K and was probably at that time the chipleader in the entire tournament. Everything I observed about his play in the next few hours suggested that he completely deserved it.

Adam was in his early 20's and wearing an old Ramones t-shirt that hung shapelessly on his skinny frame. What really struck me about him, though, was the intensity with which he focused on everything that happened at the table. He didn't excessively waste time on any decision the way Cory had done with his grandstanding, but Adam always took a second or two to consider his options before doing anything. Often, his brow would furrow and his eyes narrow as he pondered all of the facets that might affect how a hand plays out: which players are involved, from which positions, how many chips do they have, who looks uncomfortable, who's been playing tight, who just lost a pot, who seems to have what level of poker knowledge, and on and on. I've just never seen someone so intensely focused on a poker table before (thought I've heard Phil Ivey has a very similar table presence), and it was really impressive/intimidating to watch him. The term 'shark' was invented to describe poker players like Adam.

For the most part, I was staying out of his way. Early on, I took a few flops against him when I was in position since we were the two big stacks at the table. I won most of these pots, but he got away cheaply every time I had a strong hand, so I didn't take him for much. When two good players clash, losing the minimum can still be considered a victory for the player who is out of position, so I did not take great pride in outplaying him, though I was glad to have the chips.

I went into the fourth break with high spirits and 50,000 chips, more than four times what I'd had two hours ago and the most I'd had all day. When we returned, blinds were 300/600/75, and this is when things started to go downhill again. I wasn't doing much steal raising, but nonetheless, I was getting called or raised almost every time I opened the pot. My good starting hands kept getting bad flops in multi-way pots where I pretty had to give up.

I wussed out of making a big river bluff against Adam in one hand. I had gone for an early position steal with Td 8d, as early position raises usually get a ton of respect in live poker and I wasn't having much luck from late position. But no such luck here, either, as one guy called in position and Adam called from his BB. The flop was 994 with two clubs, but I bet at it anyway, because my early position raise represented a big pair. The first guy folded, but Adam called. This is a tricky spot here because Adam could have a 9, a pocket pair, or a club draw, and he would play all three differently on the turn. The turn was an off-suit K, and we both checked. This is a good card for me to represent, but not on the t