Poker Heaven

If you see me walking around in a daze with a silly expression frozen on my face, it's because I just returned from four days in paradise. I have now been to poker heaven, and its name is Costa Rica.

I realize that I am not the first to extol the virtues of this extraordinary country and its burgeoning poker scene, but I believe it's my civic and moral duty to convince those last few holdouts who don't believe that they should make the trip.

First of all, Costa Rica is a unique and wonderful country. The people are incredibly friendly and hospitable, as befitting a country with a long history of democracy and peacefulness. The country's army was abolished in 1948, meaning that the defense budget has been redirected to important things like health care, education – and poker.

Casinos Europa, which hosts three major series of tournaments per year, recognizes that the trip to San Jose, Costa Rica, is more daunting for most Americans than the trip to San Jose, California. They compensate for the extra distance by going out of their way to make everyone feel comfortable and appreciated, and by enforcing a few simple but effective rules to create an unparalleled playing atmosphere. Abuse of other players or dealers is simply not tolerated. Both well-known and unknown players will be removed instantly if they are disrespectful to others, which results in pleasant games in which you don't have to be alert for thrown cards or insults. All players are asked to wear a plastic card with their name on it. In general, I don't go for the conventioneer look, but in this case it's a great thing. People become much friendlier and more willing to initiate a conversation when they can address you by name, and seem to behave better when they lose their anonymity.

And I haven't even gotten to what truly separates the casino from its counterparts back home. Either Costa Rica has the most beautiful (not to mention the brightest and friendliest) women on earth or some elite reconnaissance team has rounded up dozens of lost beauty pageant contestants and taken them to the poker room. Either way, it was a new experience to try to concentrate on measly poker chips while surrounded by the local goddesses. Perhaps I have found the reason why I failed to come close to cashing in any of the three tournaments that I played. Actually, I also may have found the reason for getting my money in with the worst hand in the live games, as well.

Usually when I go to tournaments I resist the ring games, but the big no-limit games in Costa Rica were so fun and juicy that I jumped right in. Of course, tournament poker and ring game poker are two very different games. The concepts that need to be understood and strategies that must be employed to succeed in each arena are vastly different. Nowhere is this more true than in the treacherous waters of no-limit hold'em. Tournament no-limit hold'em (except for a handful of multiple-day major tournaments) has basically become a contest of moving in all of one's chips interspersed with stealing and restealing of blinds. Most pots are settled before or on the flop. It's important to understand the implications of different stack sizes and how they affect your own and your opponents' play, but it's not as critical to master the ring game art of building a pot, playing the turn, and possibly having to make a big decision on the river. Skillfully playing every street becomes a requirement when stacks are big in relation to the blinds, as is the case in most live no-limit games, such as the nightly game spread in Costa Rica. Deep stacks (ranging from $2,000 to $10,000) and small blinds ($10-$20) combined for interesting games with tricky play sometimes evident on all streets. Of course, the biggest hand that I became involved in does not demonstrate the challenges of playing every street or making and reading tricky plays, but it does illustrate the big role that luck plays in the short run; how a single decision can throw you on one side or the other of the fine line that divides a big win and a big loss.

Seven players limped in for $20 before the action reached me in the big blind, where I found pocket sevens. A raise was very unlikely to win the pot, and building the pot at this stage (in case I flopped a set) seemed unnecessary – given the style of play in the game, there would be plenty of action after the flop if I hit my hand. I checked, and was very happy to see the flop of 7 5 4. Here is where I really got lucky. I would usually bet out in this situation, but on this night, I checked. A relatively aggressive early-position player bet $150, which was called by the small blind. I raised $700 more, which was called by the initial bettor. At that point, the small blind surprisingly moved in for almost $5,000, which was almost exactly what I had in front of me. Since I had played a lot of poker with this gentleman (and he was quite familiar with my play), I fell into a confusing analysis of 'I know that he knows that I know that he knows … ' that led nowhere. It certainly seemed possible that he was trying to push me off the hand with a big draw or had flopped a smaller set, although, realistically, the all-in reraise in this case most likely indicated the nuts. Unable to fold top set, I moved my entire stack in. At this point, the initial bettor started to think. It seemed clear from the action that he had a draw, and if so, he was getting close to the right price to draw, which I definitely did not want him to do. Finally, he laid his hand down. The small blind indeed showed 8-6, the nut straight. Fortunately for me, the turn card was another 4, giving me a full house. The funny thing was that the river card was the A, which caused the initial bettor to literally jump from his seat. He retrieved his folded hand, the 3 2, which would have given him a straight flush and a $15,000 pot if he had called. Basically everything turned out lucky for me. If I had bet out and gotten called, I would have either checked or made a small bet on the turn, followed by paying off all of my money on the river. If the small blind had simply called on the flop, the same scenario would have played out. My raising and his moving in was the only way that I avoided disaster. The Cadillac of poker games may be the ultimate test of skill, but on any given night, luck remains the ultimate arbiter of who wins and who loses.

My luck held through the next day. At the airport, I was confronted by overzealous airport personnel who decided to supplement their incomes by seizing half of my belongings in the name of anti-terrorism. My vivid protests resulted in a brief period in which it looked like I would remain in Costa Rica for a while longer whether I liked it or not, until a supervisor arrived to restore order, but not before one humorous moment: While I was still in the doghouse, my traveling companion, Jeff Shulman, was asked if he was with me. "I have never seen this man before in my life," answered my stalwart friend. Thanks, buddy. At least he made up for this momentary lapse by moving in his last chips with queen high while I held quad tens in the decisive game of our best-of-seven heads-up match on the long flight home.