I Did it Again

I did it again. I embarrassed myself in the main event at the Hustler Casino. Man, this sucks.

After starting the second day with a very healthy but not huge chip position, $44,400, I steadily built my stack up to almost $90,000. I did it mainly by reraising Freddy Deeb. He was raising four out of every eight hands or so, since he had the biggest stack at the table. I decided that I was going to have to slap him around a little bit. With the blinds $400-$800 or thereabouts, and a $100 ante, I think, since I never actually remember the situation, Freddy raised again from midlate position to something like $3,000. I made it $9,000 to go from the small blind with Q-J offsuit. I needed to see if Freddy would play back at me or if I could get him to lay down a hand. He threw it away, which was good. I later found out that Nicky Di Leo had A-J in the big blind. He laid it down, too. Phew!

Then, I selectively started reraising Freddy when I thought he was weak. A couple of times, he called my reraises and then folded when I fired out on the flop. That was good, because he had a big stack, and I didn't really have anything in any of those hands. That's how I got up to around $90,000 without ever having to show down a hand. That's the key, by the way: Don't show down hands. And the best way not to show down hands is to make raises and rarely if ever call. I know that some of the top players are great at making the monster call in a critical situation, but I'm not there yet. If I have to show my hand, it's because you called me.

We redrew for seats at two tables, and that's when I started playing like a moron. I had the biggest or second-biggest stack at my table. Charlie Shoten - or Scotty Warbucks, as he likes to be known - was to my immediate left. I raised to $8,000 from middle position with pocket eights. Charlie reraised me $7,000 more, and I called. I was sure that he had ace-big. I just sort of knew it. The flop came queen high. I checked and Charlie bet $9,000. That small bet told me that his "big" card wasn't a queen. For some ludicrous reason, which I can't fathom now, I decided to go Johnny Chan on him and just check and call instead of raise, which is my usual play.

The turn was a 10. I made rookie mistake No. 2 here: I checked. He checked, too. I knew I had the best hand, but I should have fired right then and there and taken the already substantial pot. The river was a jack. That's trouble, I thought. A-K is there, A-Q has me beat, A-10 has me beat, and so on. Every hand that he could possibly have had me beat. I checked, and he checked. He had A-J. The worst part of it was the embarrassment. Tony Ma, Allen Cunningham, Toto Leonidas, and everyone else at my table saw me badly misplay a pot that was mine for the taking. That's bad.

Charlie finally put me out of my misery when I still had more than $60,000 in chips, which was plenty. I had no need to get out of line, but I did. I raised on a steal with the K 9, and Charlie called me. The flop came 9 high. In one of the worst moves anyone can make in no-limit, without thought as to what Charlie was calling me with, I went all in. He called instantly with pocket tens. Betting wasn't bad, but going all in was. It showed weakness and encouraged a call. If I bet $15,000 and he calls, I'm basically done with the hand and still in contention for the $112,000 for first place. I suck. Charlie won the tournament.

When we were still at three tables, the following incident occurred: Levi Rothman, at an adjacent table, bet at a flop. Randy Holland raised him. Levi reached over and actually grabbed Randy's wrist to see if his pulse was elevated. Levi then folded, and Randy, smiling but a little perturbed, called a floorperson to make sure it wouldn't happen again. I told Randy that he should break Levi's arm if it happened again. Like I always used to say when I was a road gambler after World War II, "If you can't take a man's pulse at the table without touching him, you ain't no kind of poker player."