Your New Poker Overlord and Paymaster

Casinos Europa in Costa Rica throws the greatest party in poker. I'd feel that way even if I hadn't just won my first tournament title and even if I hadn't been awarded the best overall player title. But, I did. Damn, it feels good. All hail your new poker overlord and paymaster.

I wasn't expecting much from my trip to San Jose beyond easing back into tournament poker and relaxing for a week. The World Series had destroyed my confidence and severely damaged my bankroll. The first night featured a no-limit hold'em event, my best game. I felt good right away. With about half the field gone, I had the old eyes of Texas (aces) in first position. Keep in mind that these tournaments are $10 buy-in affairs with multiple, and I do mean multiple, rebuys. You can add on 30 times at the end of the rebuy period, and almost everybody does. So, it's really a $300 buy-in tourney, plus whatever you manage to buy during the rebuy period. These are not small tournaments. They are probably bigger than most $500 events at the big tournaments around the world. So, when Russ Hamilton reraised me from the button with pocket queens, I was disappointed to go walking with my rockets, as a queen came right off on the flop.

Terry Severin, one of the top casino executives at the tournament, told me this story: There are "models" at every table during the tournament. These beautiful young women wear slinky black dresses and get drinks and snacks for the players. Over in the live-action section, a player handed the model at his table a $100 bill and asked her to get him some chips. She bounded off, eager to comply. When 15 minutes went by, the player started to worry. When 45 minutes had passed, he was ready to write off his $100. Finally, after about an hour, the girl came back, breathless. She handed the exasperated player $99.50 in "change" and a bag of Wise potato chips. "These are the only chips I could find," she said. The models aren't necessarily versed in poker, you see.

My encounter with Russ Hamilton was only the first of my run-ins with champions on this trip. The next night, playing in a limit hold'em event, possibly my worst game, I just kept hanging around nursing a medium stack. At around 2 a.m. (the tournaments start at 7 p.m. so that attendees can tour Costa Rica during the day), I found myself at the final table. About an hour after that, I found myself heads up with 2002 World Series of Poker Champion Robert Varkonyi.

Varkonyi had made my life a living hell. Not since my parents' divorce when I was 11 had an event so upset my notions of what the world was about than Robert's improbable romp to victory in the main event. He's an amateur. He doesn't play a lot of tournament poker. Amateurs are not supposed to win the main event at the WSOP. And worse, Robert lives three blocks away from me in Brooklyn. I'm supposed to be the best player in my neighborhood, not some unknown. And if I'm not the best player in Brooklyn, at least my road buddy Nicky Di Leo is. Who the hell is Varkonyi?

And to make matters much, much worse, Varkonyi turns out to be a smart, nice guy, with a beautiful and intelligent wife, Olga, who speaks most of the languages on Earth, and travels with him to tournaments.

So, he and I were heads up and he beat me. I couldn't avenge my nightmares from the WSOP against the champ. All I remember is that he had a big chip lead, I fought my way back to almost even, we whacked up the money (15 dimes for Robert, 13 dimes for me), I had A-6, the blinds were very high, he had A-K, and he won it with ace high. This was the first tournament Robert had entered since the World Series – two for two for the champ.

The very next night, exhausted from my epic battle with Varkonyi, I reluctantly entered the Omaha eight-or-better tournament. This time I ended up heads up with Robert Williamson, the 2002 pot-limit Omaha high WSOP champion. I was so tired that I remember actually forgetting at one point that we were playing a split-pot game. I made a full house on the turn, got all of my chips in, and then they gave half the pot to Robert at the end when an ace fell. I was dumbfounded for a minute. But make no mistake, it wasn't fatigue that doomed me to another second-place finish. Robert is a much, much better Omaha eight-or-better player than I am. Enough said.

The next night I played conservatively in another no-limit hold'em event. I rebought only 107 times. That's right, I was in $1,080 in a $10 tournament, and I went out fairly early; oh well.

The next night's event was no-limit hold'em again. It was the "Scotty Nguyen Challenge" (each of the events in Costa Rica was hosted by and named after a poker champion). This was funny because Scotty hadn't made the trip to Costa Rica. It didn't matter to me. Scotty is one of my heroes, and I gazed longingly at the trophy with his name on it. I wanted it.

And, I got it. In for only $350 in this event, I again found myself at the final table. Before I knew it, guys were dropping like corpses on the side of the road. When we got down to fourhanded, a deal was suggested. They wanted to whack up the money right then and there according to stack size, with a token amount left over for the champion. We were all about even, although I technically had the second-shortest stack. I didn't want to do a deal, to be honest. However, rather than be the sole holdout, I agreed. I thought that I would become a target if I refused the deal. I think in the future that I may go the Negreanu route and refuse all deals. I'll let you know when I decide.

Anyway, with a small concession to me, after I insisted that we leave at least $2,000 for first and another dime for second, we did the deal and played on. Again, in the blink of an eye, I found myself heads up with another champion. This time it was 1983 WSOP Champ Tom McEvoy. Tom, it must be said in fairness, didn't stand much of a chance. I was catching hands every deal. Tom had to fold again and again with hands like 6 high, or jack high. I was being extremely aggressive, which is easy to do when you are getting hands.

Tom started out with the chip lead, but I must have won 18 of the first 20 hands we played. So, I had a big chip lead. I put in a small raise from the button with pocket nines. Tom quickly moved all in, and I called. He was on a steal move with the Doyle Brunson hand, 10-2. I don't remember how the board came. All I remember is that I actually had to hold back tears. I had won my first poker trophy. I also had locked up the best overall player title with the main event yet to be played. I got a nice gold coin for that. By now, it was well past 5 a.m. Jeff Shulman, Diego Cordovez, and I went and watched the World Cup final. I was running so good that I won an extra dime when Brazil won; I had entered a bar pool at home for $30. Let's review my week in Costa Rica: I had one first, two seconds, the best overall player award, and, oh yeah, I finished seventh in the main event.

So, after 18 months as a tournament player, I finally got my first win. I also regained some of my mojo that I had lost in Vegas in May. Visions of being known by only my first name – like Phil, three-time bracelet winner at this year's World Series – have started to dance in my head. We'll see how it turns out.

Here's one final note. If you can make it to Casinos Europa in October, do it. I've been all over the world, and I've never been to a place where they care about their customers more than they do at these tournaments. They give you everything: free or steeply discounted rooms, free food, and models at the tables. Don't miss it.