My Story of the World Series of Poker - Part II

In the last issue, I was relating my experience of playing in the World Series of Poker championship event. I'll pick it up when we were very early in the first round and I was starting to feel what the WSOP was all about.

The tension never lets up, at least not for me. You could see it in my face, and you could see it in the faces around me. Soon after we started, we saw the number of entrants – 631 – go up on the time clock, and we knew that first-place prize money was going to be $2 million. Here I was, playing in the championship event of the WSOP, and all I could think of was the amount of money I was playing for, the event's history, and the fact that instead of being on my couch watching the Super Bowl, the Rose Bowl, or center court at the U.S. Open, I was in fact a participant.

I decided to change my strategy. My original game plan was to be a little aggressive, figuring no one wanted to be knocked out early on the first day; now, I didn't want to be knocked out early on the first day. So, I got involved in very few pots, which I now realize was a miscalculation, because when I got a hand, I got no action on it at all. Then, I made a mistake. I made a bad read and took 7-7 too far, and it cost me $3,000. Luckily, it happened just before the first break and I had time to calm myself. I walked around upstairs in the main room and in the adjacent lobby. All I heard was, "You got chips?" "Yeah, I'm OK. How about you?" "I'm out!" "Out? What got you?" "I had kings and ran into aces." I heard that again and again, all over the room and in the lobby.

Someone had kings and the other guy had aces. Were these just exaggerations of plays gone bad and players not owning up to the truth, or was this really happening? This was, after all, my first WSOP championship event, and I needed to know. I went back down to my table for round No. 2, and after folding a few hands, I started watching other tables. As people were getting knocked out (300 or so the first day), I started looking at the hands that were being played. If it wasn't A-A against K-K, it was a big hand against A-A or a big hand against K-K. I reset my strategy. I now was determined to make great plays with A-A or K-K and try to play back at those whom I didn't read as having A-A or K-K. In that second round, I doubled up with K-K. I was hoping there would be enough people gone by the end of the first day that I would be moved upstairs. Just after starting the fourth level, my table was broken and I got my wish. Again, this was a great feeling. There is a certain flavor to being in the main room, and I was going to taste it. My two big hands on day No. 1 were K-K vs. J-J and K-K vs. Q-Q. I started to feel that I was getting an understanding of my WSOP game.

I got to the end of the day, which was my first goal, with about $16,000. This was $14,000 short of the amount I had set in my mind, but my strategy had changed several times during the day. I always go into a tournament with a game plan. That in itself is a lesson I've learned, but this wasn't just any tournament. Adapting to a new strategy wasn't something I was used to, but adapt I did.

While walking around Binion's Horseshoe after the session was over, there was a sense of relief everywhere. The stress was off those who had busted out, and there was happiness in those who were still in. And again, I heard the stories of kings vs. aces, or big hands running into both.

I wasn't through for the day just yet, as my adrenaline was pumping and the journalist in me needed more. I talked to everyone I could to maintain the taste of the experience, and I even stayed to help the tournament staff do the redraw for day No. 2.

The next day had a different flavor to it, so the WSOP experience was proving to be an ever changing one. I was up in the main room with the survivors – the experienced who had a sense of purpose, and the inexperienced who were looking for the right road. I was determined to double up with a real hand before I started to gamble, but, alas, I found myself in a steal position and got caught. My stack was cut in half by the time my table broke. My table change was a great one; yes, luck and good fortune have their place in the WSOP. I picked up A-A back-to-back, and got action once. The number of players dwindled, and my theme remained the same: A-A vs. K-K or big hand.

After the dinner break, the only remarkable thing that happened to me was that I made it through day No. 2. I was exhausted, exhilarated, enlightened, and determined to keep this run going. I had $29,000, just $1,000 short of my day No. 1 goal, but I was still in, and that wasn't true for more than 500 others.

Day No. 3 was the money day, meaning that when the day ended, the field would be down to 45 players, all of whom would be in the money. My goal was set to still be in at the end of day No. 3. I had gotten a great night's sleep and came in ready to amass some chips.

I was put at a table with players who had lots of chips. I could have looked at this as a disadvantage, but I knew coming in that no matter where I was put, I'd be up against players with lots of chips. My table was actually better than I had hoped. I was blinded down to $23,000 when, with the blinds at $600-$1,200, a woman raised to $4,500 from under the gun. That is a big bet from that position, so I put her on a big pair. I looked down and found K-K, so I was either very far ahead or she had A-A and I was far behind. There were five people yet to act behind me, and I didn't want an A-K or A-Q to come in, so I pondered and then moved all in with a $19,000 raise. Everyone folded to the bettor, who thought for two minutes. During that time I was sure I had the best hand, because she would have called right away with aces. Now, I wanted her to call. She counted down her stack and realized she would be crippled if she lost. I thought she would surely fold. She thought for another minute and called. I was delighted. I turned my K-K over proudly, and she showed J-J. I was a big favorite when the flop came 10-7-2, and an even bigger favorite when an ace hit the turn; I would win approximately 20 times and lose once. The jack hit the river! She jumped up and screamed, and I said good luck to everyone and walked away from the table.

I was playing for $2 million and she was playing two jacks. Making a call like that was inconceivable to me. So, I said to myself, "Be careful what you ask for." I wanted her to call, and she did.

I needed an hour or so to recuperate, but as I said to my wonderful wife on the phone, I achieved my goal of playing in the championship event, and I played my "A" game for three days. I experienced the flavor of the WSOP, and even stayed to see the pageantry of the final table.

What a production, what a tournament, what a week. I made one final table, saw dreams realized by others, made new friends, and sated an appetite that I only now realize will continue to grow as the years and tournaments grow.

One of the greatest joys was seeing those people who got to play in the WSOP because of some of the promotions at casinos around the world. I hope there are more in the future.

Poker's future has never been brighter, and I'm glad I was one of the glittering lights on Fremont Street in Downtown Las Vegas for one very memorable week in May.