One Step Forward, And …

"If you can spot the sucker at the table in the first five minutes, and it is you, are you still the sucker?"

- Adam Schoenfeld

"And if you spot the sucker, and it is you, does that make you invisible?"

- Nicky Di Leo

I keep making quantum leaps in my tournament and live-action skills. This is just a fact. I can feel it and see it. But, and this is a huge but, I also keep slipping back, doing things that I thought I had cured six months ago.

Here's an example. I'm in the main event of the Legends of Poker at the Bike. I've got about $12,000 in chips, and we're playing with $100-$200 blinds and a $25 ante. Ron Rose raises from middle position. I reraise his $600 to $2,600 from the button. I've got jacks. Ron goes all Hollywood and hems and haws and stacks and restacks his chips. He has to have aces. He goes all in. Now, keep in mind that I know he has aces. His long act (he may have actually sighed) is a clear indicator.

I call him anyway. His random stacking of his chips makes it look like he doesn't have all that much more. I call him in part for the size of the pot, in part because I'm stubborn, and in part because I know he can't break me. Only the last point is a good poker reason to call. It turns out that he has about $4,000 more, and he makes a significant dent in my stack, because: He has aces.

So, I'm back down to about $6,000. I build my way back, aggressively and sharply, to more than $10,000.

Here's example No. 2: I raise from early position with pocket nines. A guy reraises me a significant amount from middle position. I look over at his stack and he's got me covered. He clearly gives the old false gulp. I mean, come on. I didn't just start playing poker in the last two years. Well, actually, I did, but I'm advanced for a beginner. The false gulp: If that isn't aces or kings, I don't know what is.

I raise him all in. He calls instantly with kings, and I'm out of the tournament. I find Daniel Negreanu, Chris Ferguson, and John Juanda in the game room playing video games. I stupidly find this comforting. Let's see, three great champions are out of the tournament, so it's OK for me to dump my chips off in two situations in which I've made a great read and failed to act on it.

Here's an interesting situation from the Legends of Poker. I'm playing in the $1,000 H.O.S.E. event. This has to be one of the worst underlays in the history of poker - only 29 entrants, and most of them are well-known champions. Also, I never play stud high, and only rarely play the split-pot games. But, I enter anyway. Somehow, I get to the final table. This isn't really that comforting, because only five spots get paid. But, I proceed to beat Chris Ferguson eight or 10 hands in a row (not actually in a row, but I beat him in the eight or 10 hands that we played heads up). So, when we make the money, I'm the chip leader.

In one of the most remarkable statements I've ever heard in poker, Andre Maloof announces that he always defends his blinds in hold'em, and then proceeds to do just that. This has to be one of the worst plays in poker. I mean, it's bad to always defend your blinds, and it's probably doubly worse to do so in tournaments, but it's exponentially worse to announce it, I think.

Anyway, after that announcement, Kenny Flaton and I go out and then Young Phan follows, leaving Andre heads up with Phil Ivey. When I leave the building, Phil has about 80 percent of the chips in play. I think to myself that if Andre can beat Phil, I'm gonna have to kill myself and then quit playing poker.

At one point, Andre has Phil outchipped about 3-to-1, I find out later. Wow, that was a close call. Phil eventually wins, saving my life and redeeming my faith in tournament poker, at least a little bit.