Intro | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6
On paper, my table draw for Day 2 looked pretty favorable. The only notable player was Steve Wong, a Dane who’s been pretty successful live and online. Unfortunately, he was two seats to my left, so once again I was going to be out of position against my toughest competition. But there wasn’t a lot of complain about.
At the end of Day 1, I’d counted 67,750 chips, more than three times the amount with which we had all begun the tournament. When I opened my bag on Day 2, though, I found only 57,750 chips. I signed and sealed the bag myself, and I was pretty exhausted at the end of the day, so it’s infinitely more likely that I simply miscounted at the end of the day than that there was any tampering or theft. But it was painful to lose 10,000 chips before play even started, and unfortunately that kind of set the tenor for the day.
Level 6: Blinds 250/500/50, I have 57,750
Steve didn’t prove too aggressive, but there was an older guy in a Cancun t-shirt on his left who proved to be a real maniac. This was especially surprising because older white guys (actually older guys in general, it’s been true of the older Asians and the one 50+ black guy I’ve ever played with) tend to be very tight and passive. But this guy was a lunatic. Very early on, he came in for a raise from late position and got re-raised by the big blind. “All in,” he announced instantly.
The guy in the big blind agonized and finally called, turning over a pair of Kings. I shook my head in disgust. The other dude turned over a suited 8-7, confirming my suspicion that a pair of Kings was way out in front.
Unfortunately, the 87 made two pair on the turn to eliminate the big blind, who left in a huff. Several other players at the table started talking about how maybe the guy with Kings could have played differently to avoid elimination. Maybe he could have just called the raise or reraised all in himself so that the 87 would have to fold. Finally someone pointed out the obvious: “Well, really it was just unlucky. I mean, he wants the guy with 87 to move all in, right?” Still, it was a good sign that so many people at this table considered this a matter worth discussing in the first place.
The first big pot I played was against a young guy on my immediate left named Drew. I raised to 1500 with a pair of 7’s. Drew called, and I made trips on an A Q 7 flop. Some people like to slowplay when they make a big hand, but I think that’s a mistake, especially on this board. If my opponent flopped a pair of Aces, he isn’t going to fold it, so I’m just going to charge him as much as I possibly can. And if he doesn’t have a pair of Aces and folds to my bet, well then I probably wasn’t going to win much from him anyway. I bet 2500 and he called. On the turn, I bet 7500 and he called. On the river, I bet 20,000 and he called. I never got to see his hand, but I instantly increased my stack by more than 50%. The day was off to a good start.
There was a big pot that interested me greatly, though it didn’t involve me. A short-stacked player raised from early position, a guy on my right called, and the maniac on my left called from the big blind. The flop came 6h 2h 5c. The raiser moved all in, the guy on my right called, and then the maniac check-raised all in. After a lot of thought, the guy on my right called with a pocket pair of 7’s. Even against the maniac, that’s a pretty suicidal call. The raiser had A2, and the maniac had 5h 4h for a pair, a gutshot straight draw, and a flush draw.
Somehow, the guy on my right avoided all of those outs to win the pot with his 7’s. This was a great result for me, because even though he wasn’t good, the maniac on my left had the potential to make my life miserable. Even overly aggressive players are tough to combat from out of position. I’d much rather see the money go to an overly loose player on my right, since I’ll generally have position on him and will be set up well to add that money to my own stack.
Level 7: Blinds 300/600/75, I have 70,000
For the first time all tournament, I was dealt a pair of Aces. I raised to 1600, as I’d been doing quite a bit from late position, and Steve re-raised me to 5300. The action folded back around to me, and I glanced over at his chip stack. He had a little over 40,000 behind. If I put in another raise, it would be clear that I was committing myself to play for his entire stack, and that would show a lot of strength. So, I just called the raise, planning to check-raise all in on most flops and hopefully trap him for at least one more bet, if not all of his chips.
The flop was very innocuous, something like 742. I checked to him, and he bet 11,500. Even though I was 100% certain that I was going to move all in, I took my time and pretended I had a decision to make. This is sometimes derogatorily called “Hollywooding” because I am acting like I have a tough decision when in fact I do not.
But I was not only trying to conceal the fact that I have Aces. I was also providing myself cover for the times when I genuinely do have a decision. If I always act quickly when I am strong and slowly when I am weak or uncertain, I am giving away information. And since I want to be able to take my time when I do have a tough decision, I occasionally take my time when I do not just to avoid giving anything away.
Anyway, Steve stared me down for a while before folding. I think he folded a pair worse than mine, which a lot of players would not have been able to do. But I can’t complain, as I still won a nice pot off of him.
The next hand I got was a pair of Jacks. A kind of tight player with a little under 20,000 chips opened the pot ahead of me for 1600. I could re-raise here and try to get all in, but if that happened, I expected I’d be either crushed by a bigger pair or flipping coins against two overcards like AQ or AK. I had position and a hand that played well post-flop, so I just called. Two others called behind me. Whoops.
The flop came AA3. That’s deceptively safe for Jacks, because even though there are two Aces on the flop, with four players seeing the flop, there’s a good chance someone has an Ace in his hand anyway. So when the action checked to me, I was happy to check as well. The turn was a 9, and once again everyone checked. The river was a third Ace, and for the third time, the action was checked to me. I finally decided I might be able to get some value from my hand, so I bet 2000. The guy on my left folded, but the big blind check-raised to 8000. I threw away my full house as quickly as I could.
“Aren’t you going to show us your quads?” I asked him.
“I had a 9. Full house,” the guy told me as he scooped the pot. Sure you did, sir.
After Drew busted out, his seat was filled by a young, tough-looking guy named Darren. I later learned that this was “darrenelias”, a tricky, aggressive, and generally good internet player. I was not happy to have him on my left, partially because he had even more chips than I did but especially because when he called my first raise, he ended up showing down 8-4 of spades. The fact that he called my raise with such a weak hand indicated that he was actively going to seek confrontation with me. Since he had position and the bigger chip stack, that was a source of some concern for me.
On the last hand before break, I raised with a pair of 7’s. This is a great time to raise even without a legitimate hand, because everyone is eager to get to the bathroom and not looking to play a pot without a strong hand. When Darren re-raised me, I was afraid he may have been making a play at me for this reason. After much thought, I folded, and he showed me a pair of Kings.
This didn’t make me feel any better, though. A guy like Darren doesn’t show his cards for no reason. If he’s showing me a strong hand, it’s because he wants me to think that he’s only re-raising me with strong hands. And if he wants me to think that he’s only re-raising me with strong hands, then he must be planning to re-raise me with a lot less. I got to spend my break worrying about this new threat from the left.
Level 8: Blinds 400/800/100, I have 110,000
When I returned, I folded a few hands and eventually came in for a raise. Darren called. Sigh. I don’t recall what happened after the flop, but I know I lost.
The next time I raised, there was Darren, coming back over the top. I had made it 2400 with Ace-Jack, and he had re-raised to 7600. It was becoming clear that this guy was really going to cramp my style if I didn’t put a stop to him.
I thought back to the Kings he had showed me and how I had predicted this was coming. Trying to control my breathing, I slowly counted out 25,000 chips and pushed them into the pot. If I was wrong, this was going to cost me more than a quarter of my stack, nearly all of my profit for the day. Darren stared silently at me and counted his chips and mine for an uncomfortably long time. At last, he threw away his hand, and I breathed a sigh of relief. He later told me that he had Ace-King. Although he felt I might have been making a play at him, he didn’t want to risk 90,000 chips to find out.
Darren backed off after that, as I’d hoped he would, and I was able to accumulate chips in my usual fashion: raising from late position and outplaying my opponents after the flop.
I went to dinner in high spirits. My chip stack was in great shape, I’d neutered the pain-in-the-neck on my left, and I felt like I was playing really well. I met up with some 2+2’ers at Gaylord’s, the Indian restaurant at the Rio. Naturally, we talked strategy as we ate.
My friend Tom, who is a really brilliant poker theoretician, suggested that with a stack as big as mine, there were a lot of plays available to me that shorter stacked players couldn’t make. Essentially, my extra chips gave me “bluff insurance”. Shorter players are correctly hesitant to run expensive, multi-street bluffs because they fear being crippled or eliminated if the play fails. But with my stack, I could afford to make some big bluffs that, though risky, would potentially have a very high rate of return.
Ego bloated from a day of good luck and solid poker, I resolved to execute Tom’s advice. Can you guess where this is going?
Level 9: Blinds 500/1000/100, I have 150,000
Dinner was still processing when I opened for a raise to 2800 with King-Jack of clubs. A tight player called out of the small blind. The flop came T-4-4 with one club. He checked, and I bet 4500 just to see if he’d give up now. He didn’t. There were a lot of ways that I could turn a straight or flush draw, though, and I resolved to fire another barrel if any of those cards hit.
The turn was the 7c, giving me a club draw. My opponent checked again, and I bet 10K. He thought for a long time, looked pained, and then raised to 25K. This was one of those spots Tom was talking about! I raised pre-flop, bet the flop, bet the turn—if I move all in here, it will look an awful lot like I have a big pair, maybe even Aces! It was almost impossible for my opponent to have a big hand. He would have reraised pre-flop if he had Jacks or better, and he wouldn’t have called any hand with a 4 in it pre-flop. So unless he has exactly TT or 77, I should be good.
“All in,” I announced. Actually, I was putting my opponent all in. He had only about 73K left in his stack.
“Call,” he blurted out quickly. Whoops. He turned over his cards: a pair of tens, giving him a full house, tens over fours. I was drawing dead.
I groaned and started counting my chips. It made me physically ill to hand over so many chips. I had been so patient, played so well, over so many hours, and then in a matter of seconds so much of it was gone. I had less than 50K left, fewer chips than I had at the start of the day 8 hours ago.
Common sense suggests that tight players are good for bluffs, and that’s true for small pots. If my opponent had nothing on the flop, he was going to give up to one bet whereas a looser player might bluff raise or call and try to bluff later in the hand. But tight players only play big pots with big hands, and when the pot gets big, you’ve got to stop trying to bluff them, because they aren’t folding. This is what they’ve been waiting for. In other words, it was unlikely for my opponent to be dealt a full house, but once he raised the turn, it was a near certainty that he had one. I don’t know that this player would ever raise with less. That makes my bluff a bad one.
Now I was one of the short stacks at the table, the guy who had to fear that every hand might be his last. And this next one nearly was. Another tight player raised to 4000. Most people had been raising to about 3000, and I figured that that extra 1000 chips meant he had something good. A second player called, and I looked down at Ace-King. Blarg.
As worried as I was, there was a lot of money in the pot, and this was too big to lay down. I re-raised to 18,000, prepared to get all in if necessary. The first player didn’t take too much time before moving all in. The other guy folded, and I reluctantly called. He turned up his hand: Jack, Jack.
The dealer dealt the flop: 3 5 8. No help. His Jacks were way ahead now. A Ten on the turn put me further behind. But the river was my salvation, a big black beautiful Ace of Spades. I breathed a sigh of relief and collected 80,000 chips from the pot. That one card made the difference between elimination and my being right back in the race with an average stack. This was the first of four times that I would be all in with my tournament life on the line over the course of the 2008 WSOP. Strangely enough, though my hand changed, my opponent always held JJ.
I got to talking with a tall, jovial Croatian man named Cornell. He was an amateur player but played pretty well and managed to confuse or otherwise get the best of me several times over the course of the day, winning a good chunk of my chips in the process. It was hard to resent him for that, though, because he was such a fun and friendly guy.
In our first pot, the woman on my right raised to 1000, and I called with A9s. Cornell called in the BB and led out for 4900 on a 952 flop. I called, then called 7000 on a blank turn. The river was a T, Cornell bet 6500, and I got a sinking feeling. Random live players just don’t triple barrel with less than two pair. Not as a bluff, not as a blocking bet, they just don’t do it. But I was getting huge odds, so I called him and made him show me the T-9.
Level 10: Blinds 600/1200 with a 200 ante, I have 150,000
After getting caught in a big bluff, the correct strategy is usually to slow down, play fewer hands, and stop bluffing for a while. The whole table is going to think about that bluff every time they get involved with you, and they are going to call you a lot more often. Also, they may expect you to get frustrated and try to make up for your loss with more bluffing.
Which is exactly what I tried to do. I raised from middle position with 6 [club] 4 [club]. One player behind me called, and the flop came Q [club] 3 [club] 3 [spade]. I bet 4000, and he raised to 12,000. For some reason, I decided to pull the same play out of my book. “All in,” I declared, betting the 30,000 or so chips that remained in my opponent’s stack on a flush draw.
Without much thought, he called. He turned over Ace-Queen. I was in trouble, once again about to lose the chips I’d been so fortunate to recover. Club Club Club Club I whispered to myself as the dealer put out the turn card. It was a useless deuce of diamonds. Come on club Come on club Come on club.
The river was a 5 of hearts. Wait a minute! 2-3-4-5-6 that’s a straight! I made a straight! My opponent sat back down in his seat, not even realizing that he’d lost. The dealer shook his head and indicated the unlikely straight. My opponent shook his head and shoved me the last of his chips. I’m a dirty dog, and a damn lucky one at that.
Now, having show down two bluffs, it was definitely time to slow down.
But I didn’t. I kept raising and I kept betting. The players behind me started re-raising, Darren kicked up his aggression, and no one was folding. I was like a child in an overfull bathtub, splashing chips everywhere and making a mess.
In my defense, I also ended up in some bad spots. In one, a player in late position raised to 3600, and the button made it 11,000. I was not happy to see QQ in the big blind. I cold called about 10% of the effective stacks, mostly for set value. Undeterred by all this strength, the late position guy shoved all in with Ace-King and got busted by Aces. Naturally I folded my QQ.
Then, I raised to 3500 UTG with ATs, and Cornell re-raised to 9500. This probably should be a fold, but I made some rationalizations about pot odds and called. The flop came AJJ, and we both checked. Hoping to get paid off by an underpair on two streets, I led out 12,000. Cornell raised to 35,000. This time I rationalized for a long time. Maybe this was a defensive raise with QQ/KK to stop a river bluff? Or just a pure bluff? I mean, it’s got to be either trips or air, right? I called, we both checked the river, and Cornell’s AK was good. It was a strange way to play AK, but that’s exactly what was good about it.
By the time the day was over, I had 67,000 chips, barely 10,000 more than I had at the start of the day and well under the average.
Now that we were no longer in direct competition, I spent a few minutes chatting with the other survivors from my table. Darren and I discussed the hand where I had 4-bet him. He told me he had folded Ace-King. I explained to him why I had bluffed him and that I didn’t expect him to fold a hand that strong. That’s the great thing about being relatively unknown: my opponents don’t know what I’m capable of, and since very few players could be bluffing in that spot, my opponent made a mistake against me.
We all wished each other luck at the end of the day, and I tried to stop chastising myself for the day’s mistakes and get some sleep. I felt foolish for having squandered so many chips. But I was still alive.