Ethics, Friendships, and Triumphs at the U.S. Poker Championship

Although I am not anything close to a seasoned tournament player, I do like to make the journey to the East during tournament events. The side games are generally full of life and action, and I find myself more focused on playing than I ever am at home. There is just something about momentarily living on the premises where you play that blocks out all of the other aspects of life, and both allows and forces you to concentrate on the task at hand. In this column, I am not writing any analyses of seven-card stud hands, nor espousing any nuggets of poker theory. My column is called "Seven-Card Stud … and More," and the material in this column is in the "more" category. I have three human-interest stories to tell, two of which will hopefully cause tournament directors to re-examine a rule for future events. Allow me to preface the following by stating categorically that I was not direct witness to any of what I am about to relate, but am merely relaying what was told to me directly from the named parties.

Toward the end of the $500 buy-in seven-card stud event at the Taj Mahal's U.S. Poker Championship, the limits were climbing high and, naturally, there was a fair amount of money on the line. As is the case in the later rounds of any tournament, each mistake a player makes has consequences that are magnified dramatically by the limits/chips ratio. Ten-minute penalties could prove devastating to anyone finding themselves short-stacked due to the practice of being "anted off." This is precisely what happened to Sonny Lusha, a regular $30-$60 stud player at the Taj. There exists a rule against exposing one's holecards except at the appropriate moment, after being called. Like many rules and laws in life, what started out being necessary has mutated into the realm of the ridiculous. He came to me and told me what happened to him. I shall recount it to the best of my recollection. It was a simple third-street fold. He had nothing and had no intention of playing the hand. Somebody else was the low card, and when it got to him, he cast his hand toward the muck. He did not do this out of anger or any semblance of experiencing a "bad beat," as all he had lost in this hand was an ante. Unfortunately, one of his two holecards hit a chip in the pot and its trajectory was deflected in a way that caused it to overturn. This is something that happens rather frequently in live games, and nothing much is thought of it. This is something that could have happened to anyone. In what I could only deem to be a somewhat overzealous enforcement and interpretation of the rule, he was given a 10-minute penalty. Despite verbal testimony given by the other players stating that it was purely an accidental occurrence, the unfortunate ruling stood and the limits/antes were high enough to wipe out whatever chance his short stack could have given him. I am not sure what the "correct" remedy is for this, but any penalty that so clearly affects the outcome of a tournament should be handed out only in the most severe and flagrant disregards for rules and/or decorum, and not for obvious accidents.

A similar situation took place when there was much more money at stake, and due to the fact that it was down to a mere three participants at the final table, every hand counted that much more. It occurred in the $4,000 buy-in stud event. There were 96 entrants, yielding a prize pool of $384,000. First place paid $153,600, while second and third places were to receive $88,320 and $46,080, respectively. According to two sources, "Miami" John Cernuto was the strong chip leader with about $420,000 of the approximate $800,000 in total chips in play, and first place was a probable outcome for him, although as the limits climb, the "anything can happen" factor looms larger and larger. With a $42,240 difference between second and third, there was quite a bit on the line for Benjamin Lin and Bhnam "Ben" Razai. Since both men are known as "Ben," I'll use last names for clarity. Unfortunately for Lin, at this point he was trailing Razai by a vast amount of chips. The estimated chip count was $70,000 for Lin vs. more than $300,000 for Razai. The hours were wearing on everyone, as this event lasted about 20 hours. Lin raised and Razai held pocket nines. He had a slight dilemma on his hands. He pondered, and then elected to fold his hand, and in an act borne of probable pride and sheer fatigue/forgetfulness, he momentarily lifted his pocket pair off the felt just high enough that spectators behind him might glance at his laydown. Neither of his two opponents could have seen the cards, though. "Miami" John called for a decision and a 10-minute penalty was given to Razai. Apparently, Lin thought the ruling was both uncalled for and unfair. Lin could have opted to exploit these precious 10 minutes, as he and "Miami" John could have played very fast and basically taken turns raising the pots and shaving off a substantial portion of Razai's stacks with the high antes and bring-ins. He could have highly increased his chances of winning second (and possibly, first) place. By augmenting his short stack many thousands, followed by a possible double-through in a big hand, he could have really put himself back in the running. Instead of allowing greed to motivate his actions, Lin showed decency and character that day. In an act of silent resistance and protest, he took what I would call the "high road" and chose to "think" as long as possible on every street of each hand dealt out. He managed to make three heads-up hands occupy those 10 minutes. This was not only an act of outright decency and unselfishness on his part, but one of bravery, as well. I would think his intentional stalling of the game could be considered by some to be an act worthy of a penalty in and of itself. Lin stood his moral ground, and in doing so, ended up with the lesser but highly respectable third place. Had Lin been the chip leader at that moment, his magnanimity would be noteworthy, to be sure, but one could argue that his was a desperate situation, and he still chose to do what he thought was right, as opposed to merely profitable. Ethics are still alive and well in poker, it seems. I would submit that Razai owes Lin a great debt of gratitude, and we can all take a lesson from this young man's courage and decency. Although he and I had played against one another on several occasions, we had not engaged in much conversation prior to this tournament. He is a highly accomplished high-limit player, and I am now proud to call Benjamin Lin both a friend and a respected opponent.

My third tale is that of a come-from-behind triumph in the $1,000 buy-in no-limit hold'em event. While I am sure there were many interesting stories in the other events, I selected this one purely out of journalistic nepotism. I made many new friends on this trip, and was able to dine with many old friends, as well. I am happy to call Jim Wilsey, a poker player from Brockton, Massachusetts, one of my new friends. He is a mountain of a man, standing approximately 6 feet 5 inches tall, but his physiological grandeur pales in comparison to the size of his generous heart. Not only is he an exceptionally generous host with his friends, he has been known to walk outside the casino and offer the financial means to a decent meal to the homeless denizens of the Atlantic City boardwalk. Attired in his signature uniform, consisting of a Kangol beret and Harley-Davidson jacket, he managed to get to the coveted final table with $13,900 (approximately 9 percent of the total chips in play). Coincidentally, this tied him with one of the subjects of my preceding tale, the aforementioned "Miami" John. He was ahead of only three other players, two of whom were not far behind with $11,750 and $10,075. Contrast this small gap with how far he was trailing four players, the least of whom had $23,250 and two of whom had more than double the chips at $29,725 and $28,325. Wilsey certainly had his work cut out for him. In a display of savvy, courage, intelligence, and - yes - a little bit of good luck, he managed to overcome some formidable opponents, including a World Series of Poker no-limit hold'em winner, as well as a rather unenviable chip position at the outset of the final table, to win the event. His attentive fiancé, Doreen Wilbur, watched for the entire 15-plus hours from the sidelines, and remained hopeful and supportive throughout the protracted ordeal. Good luck to both of them in poker, love, and life!