The Battle for Poker's Future By Andrew N.S. Glazer, 'The Poker Pundit'

For several years, poker industry insiders have recognized that with some 50 million players in the United States and another 50 million worldwide, their game was on the cusp of a revolution similar to that enjoyed by billiards and NASCAR: television coverage outside the relatively small fan groups, corporate sponsorship, and in general an overall "cleaning up" of the game's "act."

All of these changes were supposed to lead to more exciting TV, which in turn would lead to corporate sponsorship, and the merging of the tens of millions of home-game players with their less numerous but more skillful and higher-profile legal cardroom and poker tournament circuit brethren.

The only problem was that this revolution was starting to resemble the weather; that is, something everyone talks about but no one ever does anything about, at least not anything that works.

The TOC Gave Us an Inkling

The Tournament of Champions tried nobly, with a high-class event that employed a novel tournament concept, but didn't get true broadcast-quality video (although they spent a lot of money trying for it). Even more important, the TOC didn't employ some form of "holecards visible to the home audience" technology, and without that, poker television broadcasts have to be either about a lot of money (like the World Series of Poker final) and/or a look into the (hopefully) interesting lives of the combatants.

The Brits came up with an interesting show with Late Night Poker, a success in England, but its rather staid format and lack of screaming fans wasn't likely to play well in the USA, the nation that has embraced Wrestlemania.

Ladbrokes tried with the Poker Million in 2000, but the Ladbrokes blokes didn't have a long history with poker (only a last-minute addition of legendary tournament director Jack McClelland as a consultant saved the tournament from disaster), and didn't realize that guaranteeing £1 million for first place in a tournament's first year was just too ambitious, especially when they scheduled the tournament so that it would compete directly with the popular and high-stakes Foxwoods World Poker Finals.

The cards were indeed visible to the live European TV audience - and watching the event in a pub, I felt more like I was watching a highly partisan football game than a poker tournament - but players who were unsure of what the event would pay for second place (and thereafter) stayed away.

The Poker Million organizers (Ladbrokes) wound up adding £250,000 to the prize pool so that not only would the first-place winner get the guaranteed £1 million, but second would pay £100,000 and everyone who finished in the top eight would make some kind of profit.

The Poker Million was Marvelous,

but too Ambitious at First

Nonetheless, this meant that Ladbrokes took a pretty big hit on the event, and couldn't quite get it together for 2001, and the 2002 event was much smaller in scope, with 36 invited players putting up £6,000 each. This format may well work out very well, although the small fields may limit the event's ultimate television upside. That's not a given, though: The Poker Million may wind up contributing mightily to poker.

Finally, it seems, someone has gotten it right. I mean, how badly can you do with a tournament that gets former major league baseball star Lenny Dykstra to say on camera, "I've played in the World Series of baseball, and this is as exciting as playing in the World Series of baseball."

The World Poker Tour (WPT) launched this year, utilizing a nice hybrid of the best from poker's history and mixing in quality TV production values and some bold new innovations, thus developing the most exciting (and, potentially, ratings-producing) show poker has yet seen.

Rather than create its own entirely new event, as the Poker Million and the TOC did, the WPT went to the promoters of many of the world's largest tournaments and signed up their championship events to be part of a regularly scheduled series on the Travel Channel. The Tour is currently airing on Wednesday nights (check local listings for times) for the rest of the season.

When You Can See the Holecards, TV Poker is Thrilling

They're using another version of the "viewers see the holecards" technology by employing tiny security cameras in front of each player. They have a flashy, colorful set that they cart around from location to location, and do their best to work the live audience (which cannot see the holecards, for reasons that should be obvious) into a frenzy.

I wouldn't be surprised to see the show move to a network that enjoys higher cable penetration next year, but for now, it's the Travel Channel, and CEO Steve Lipscomb worked with his money and businessman Lyle Berman to add a special glitz to the Tour by adding a special $200,000 celebrity invitational freeroll event at L.A.'s Commerce Casino.

This was the kind of tournament that poker players hoping for corporate sponsorship have been dreaming about: $200,000 in prize money, and $0 in entry fees. To be one of the invited 104 starters, you needed to be some kind of celebrity - either a famous name within the poker world, a high-profile journalist, or an actual real celebrity, who are not all that difficult to find in the Los Angeles area.

The WPT currently shares one corporate sponsorship obstacle with the Poker Million: British television rules don't allow players in an event of that type to wear any kind of logos. The WPT doesn't face that as a TV rule, but thus far has decided not to allow players to turn themselves into the poker equivalent of NASCAR drivers, who wear so many logos you can barely tell what color their heat suits are. The WPT is going for a classy look, and keeping options open about corporate sponsors, but eventually may allow some kind of logo wearing.

A Most Unusual Pretournament Party

As I arrived for the opening players cocktail party (I'd like to think my invitation came from my record as a tournament player, but I suspect it has more to do with the journalism), I ran into a group that most definitely was not the kind of usual suspects one normally sees before a big event.

I couldn't get all that close to Mickey Rooney (at least not until they moved him into the seat next to me late in the event!) or Connie Stevens, although I got a kick out of watching her and a number of other celebs take quick on-camera poker lessons from 1989 World Champ Phil Hellmuth Jr.

Phil is known to have a modest interest in getting on camera (actually, most of us do, but Phil actually manages to do it: the camera likes him, and as much as envious other players might hate to admit it, he's pretty smooth in front of it), and as I watched news teams from five or six television stations interview people, I might have gotten off the cocktail party's best line when, in a group, I told Phil, "So many cameras and only one Phil, what are you going to do?"

He answered with actions rather than words, as I'm pretty sure he got time in with every major broadcaster before the night was over.

I'd cleverly eaten before I arrived, so I passed on the sushi and champagne and went out in the hall for a little air, where I landed in the middle of what was clearly the most eclectic pretournament group I'd ever chatted with: Kato Kaelin (who turned out not only to have garnered more fame from being a house guest than anyone in history, but also to have attended the same Milwaukee high school as two of my best friends) was there; his post-tournament comment, among others, was, "Playing with the pros was awesome! They're patient. At home I feel I have to bet to keep the action going."

Even More Unusual: No Bad-Beat Stories!

Dykstra, Norm MacDonald (of Saturday Night Live and Norm fame), and musician/actor Meat Loaf (You did know that was him in Fight Club, didn't you?) rounded out a group that (bless those celebrities) never mentioned a single bad beat. It seems hard to comprehend, but famous people must lead more diverse lives than poker pros.

Meat Loaf busted out of the tournament quite early, and I seemed to be the only one who could later resist telling lame "he's leaving like a Bat Out of Hell" jokes (a nod to his most famous album, which came out so long ago that it was actually an album and not a CD), but when I went deeper by making a comment about how tonight wasn't going to be his night for any Paradise by the Dashboard Lights ("Holy Cow, I think he's gonna make it,"), I merely drew blank stares.

Later, I managed to spot Lou Diamond Phillips (Young Guns and many other movies); he made an impact because every time a diamond hit the turn or the river, someone cried out "Lou Diamond Phillips." Annie Duke was probably the most frequent and/or enthusiastic user of this line. Duke might well make the Poker Hall of Fame through her other accomplishments, but she should just be put in immediately for almost making the final table at the 2000 WSOP while eight months pregnant.

Meet Dr. Jerry Buss, Philosopher

L.A. Lakers majority owner Dr. Jerry Buss, who wasn't there purely as a celebrity - he's played a lot of high-stakes poker - showed some insight when he noted, "Most of the people who play competitive poker, if they had the physical abilities, would be great athletes, because they're very hungry, and very, very aggressive." Perhaps some of Lakers coach Phil Jackson's philosophical bent is getting to Buss, because he also said, "The Lakers are kind of like poker. You need talent, but God has to be willing and smile on you occasionally."

Lakers minority owner Frank Mariani was also playing, and like Buss was probably invited in a dual role, "celebrity/tough poker player."

Don Cheadle (who has been in several of my favorite movies, including the Ocean's 11 remake and Swordfish) also proved a rather insightful and appropriately aggressive participant when he said, "Playing with the pros in the WPT, I learned patience, to wait for the cards. I'm going to take this experience to my home game and beat up on my friends."

Yep, I guess poker players and professional athletes don't hold a monopoly (or would that be an oligarchy?) when it comes to competitiveness. You'd better be ready to be competitive and able to deal with disappointment when you're an actor. Tony LoBianco, a veteran of 29 films, confirmed this when he later enthusiastically exclaimed, "I stayed in longer than a world champ!"

Amongst other notables present were producer David Adler, Columbia Pictures President Peter Schessel, Spelling Television President Jonathan Levin, Dick Van Patten (Eight is Enough, several other movies and television series, and also the father of WPT broadcaster Vince Van Patten), Gabe Kaplan (best known for the TV series that spawned John Travolta, Welcome Back Kotter), and Dom DeLuise, who gushed on a break, "This is the most exciting thing I've done all year!"

Pick a Number, Any Number … OK, "10"

I was also glad I still had some muscle relaxants in me from the sprained neck that had kept me out of the $10,000 championship event a few days earlier, or else I certainly would have gotten a bad case of whiplash when former Playboy Playmate Brandy Roderick walked by.

Nope, not your typical pretournament mixer.

Eventually, we got down to playing poker, and because the invited poker players were such a fearsome group, the tournament had to be considered very tough even though a few of the celebrities were quite inexperienced. Shame on you, Daniel Negreanu, for drinking up so many of Brandy's chips.

2002 World Series final-table participant Russell Rosenblum had mixed feelings about her exit. "On the one hand, it was certainly nice to have someone so beautiful sitting across from me," he said, "and it was also nice to have position on a relatively inexperienced player. On the other hand, it was awfully distracting having her there. I really had to work to keep my focus on the game."

My starting table was a mixed bag: only two really famous pros, Men "The Master" Nguyen and Humberto Brenes, but on the other hand, none of our celebrities were chumps. Frank Mariani is an experienced high-stakes player. Gabe Kaplan is a real player who participates in the World Series of Poker each year and has helped broadcast that event for ESPN numerous times. Gabe also seemed enthusiastic: He said at one point, "Everybody's really gambling. Everybody's having fun and someone's going to get lucky. Someone's going to win a lot of money, courtesy of World Poker Tour."

Maybe He Came to Earth Because the Games

are Looser Here

My final "opening celebrity" was Willie Garson, who, despite his protests that he was really an Omaha player and not a hold'em player, held his own quite nicely. Even though Garson is probably best known for his work on HBO's Sex in the City, I knew him only for an oddly timed reason: He'd been the guest star who was moving to Earth in an episode of Stargate: SG-I that I'd seen only the night before.

He looked really familiar when he sat down, and as it dawned on me where I thought I'd seen him before, I asked, and he confirmed that he does about one Stargate a year. Naturally, two days later I saw him in an episode of The Practice. The world works in strange ways.

Even with no celebrities handing out easy money, I'd take my starting table over the one just next to me, where I saw, lined up in a row, Tom McEvoy, Johnny Chan, T.J. Cloutier, John Juanda, and Bill Gazes. "Holy Murderer's Row, Batman! This is worse than facing the Riddler, Penguin, Catwoman, and the Joker all at once! I think our only way to win will be the Bat-Cards!"

"Really now, Robin," the Caped Crusader would have answered. "You know cheating is immoral. We'll have to depend on our skills."

This probably explains why neither Adam West nor Burt Ward was in the field.

Several Great Players at Every Table,

and the Final 10 Were Brutal

Another friend complained that her starting table was no bargain, either, as she was staring out into Layne Flack, Erik Seidel, Annie Duke, Russ Hamilton, and Brad Daugherty.

I was still loitering around with a par-sized stack when we redrew for new tables and seats at 27 players, and my original tablemate Men "The Master" stuck with me when we moved. When we redrew at 18 players, Men and I once again drew the same table, and when we hit the money at the 10-player final table, Men and I were still sitting there.

Unfortunately, so was a fearsome lineup: David Chiu, Layne Flack, Men "The Master" Nguyen, Tony Ma, Carlos Mortensen, Brad Daugherty, David Pham, Jerry Buss, me, and Mickey Rooney. Only Rooney was a real surprise: Everyone else had a substantial poker resume, although most of Buss' came in private games, and I probably think more of my poker resume than the rest of the fellows at this table did. I don't play even a tenth as many tournaments as the other pros, probably not even a twentieth, but I like my batting average. Rooney had done me a big favor by keeping Nguyen's stack at a manageable size, picking off two substantial bluff efforts. He might not have been the best player at the table, but I think you learn a thing or two about reading people when you've been an actor for most of your 83 years.

A much bigger problem than the fearsome lineup was that Flack had about half the chips at the table, has considerable experience carrying home big chip leads, and had been hitting hands like they were bad guys and he was Jackie Chan, Steven Seagal, Jet Li, Duncan McLeod, Rocky Balboa, a young Muhammad Ali, and a live Bruce Lee all rolled up into one.

6-6-6 Costs the WPT a Final Table

That Would Have Included Mickey Rooney!

Flack took out Pham and Daugherty, Rooney took out Mortensen, and then Flack struck again, eliminating Rooney in a heartbreaking moment for the WPT, which would have loved to get the grandfatherly actor to the televised six-player final table. To set the final table, Flack opened for $50,000 (the blinds were $3,000-$6,000 with $1,000 antes), and Rooney called from the big blind. Both players checked as two big cards hit the flop and a small one hit the turn. A 6 hit the river, Flack bet Rooney's last $50,000, and Rooney called like a shot.

Flack had started with pocket sixes, a big underdog to Rooney's pocket sevens, but caught the case 6 on the river (another player had folded one) to take down a pot that exceeded $200,000. Without that river card, Flack probably doesn't bet, and Rooney almost certainly makes the final table with his then $160,000 stack, but instead, the final table of Layne and the Laynettes was now set at:

Seat Player Chips

1 David Chiu $51,000

2 Layne Flack $763,000

3 Men Nguyen $61,000

4 Tony Ma $76,000

5 Andy Glazer $55,000

6 Dr. Jerry Buss $35,000

As the WPT always does, the players got nice individual introductions while walking onto the set, and each shook Lyle Berman's hand before starting. Given that Berman was the one who had put up the $200,000, the handshakes were all quite sincere.

Men "The Master" and I were still at the same table. I've had relationships with women that didn't last this long. I was ready to write the script for the fourth version of The King and I, this time being The Master and I, but decided this version wouldn't hold viewers' interest much longer than I lasted at the final table.

The Blinds Move Down,

but There's Still No Margin for Error

Tournament officials decided to roll the blinds back to $2,000-$4,000 and the antes back to $500 for the opening round, to remove at least a little of the "shootout at the OK Corral" aspect for the five players who were essentially tied for second place. This meant it was going to cost only $9,000 to sit out a six-hand round, not $15,000, but that still didn't leave anyone but Flack much time, and anyone who had to lay a hand down to a reraise was really in trouble.

I learned this from personal experience because I caught two black threes in the cutoff seat on the tournament's first hand, and made it $12,000 to go: Flack was already out of the hand. My plan of collecting the uncontested $9,000 I wanted went awry when Buss flat-called me from the button, and we looked at a flop that contained an ace, three clubs, and (no shock here) three overcards to my pair.

I had a club draw, but it wasn't at all clear that hitting it with the lowly 3 would be a good thing, and I thought it was going to be hard to get Buss to lay down a $33,000 pot when he had only $23,000 left in his stack, especially inasmuch as he was the only player at the table who didn't have to care about ladder climbs into the top three (where almost all the money was, with the payouts set at $125,000, $40,000, $20,000, $10,000, $7,000, and $6,000).

I checked, pretty sure that this would induce a bet I wasn't going to call, it did, and as Amarillo Slim would say, "I gave up like a little girl." All the players were wired for sound, to catch conversational tidbits; Buss asked, "Did you have a pair?" and when I nodded, "Yes," and added, "I had a club but wasn't sure I wanted to hit it," he said he'd had an ace. Although I hardly ever believe anything anyone tells me about cards I don't see, even my friends, there was another wild card at work here: We'd be able to see the hand later on the June 4 broadcast. I can't wait. I'm guessing A-Q or A-J.

Even though I'd wanted to distribute the chips by height (I was the tallest player at the final table, an unusual occurrence given the remarkable percentage of top players who are at least 6 feet 5 inches tall), this now left me short, and a round or two later, I invoked a plan I had actually concocted the night before. I now think the plan was a mistake: You tell me.

You Give Action, You Get Action

On day No. 1, Flack had been playing all kinds of trashy hands, even calling fairly substantial bets with them, and he just never missed. I decided that he was probably going to continue to feel bulletproof, and as a result, he would represent my best chance for doubling through. So, when Flack made it $14,000 a while later, I found A-J in the small blind and moved in for my last $39,500.

I didn't like it when Flack called without hesitation, and sure enough, he flipped over A-K. I even hit my kicker, but so did Layne, and his aces and kings sent me and my aces and jacks whimpering to the sidelines. I'm glad I cashed for six grand in the event, because I'd have gladly passed on the money I was getting paid to write this article if I could have just left the building. Sitting there covering the rest of it after I'd flamed out so quickly was more miserable than I ever could have imagined.

At first I thought I'd just been unlucky to run into Layne on one of the few occasions he had shown a real hand, but a little while later, Tony Ma, a former player of the year and certainly one of poker's finest, made essentially the same move: Layne raised (although only to $8,000), and Tony moved $57,500 all in from the small blind with … A-J.

Flack called, this time showing a hand more like what I'd expected to see the first time, K-10 (saying, as he called, "I've made worse calls"), but a king was the first card off the deck, and Ma exited fifth.

My initial reaction was, "If a player as great as Tony Ma could do it, maybe it wasn't so bad," but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Tony's result proved the essential flaw in my plan. A-J doesn't figure to be more than a 3-2 favorite over anything except a weaker ace, and with Layne unlikely to lay the hand down (it wasn't impossible that he would lay a really bad one down, but I wouldn't have been surprised to see him call with something like 6-5), that meant that my raise to $39,500 really didn't have the "two ways to win" that are so important in no-limit.

When is a Raise Not a Raise?

If Layne wasn't going to lay too many hands down against either Tony or me, our bets more closely resembled calls than raises, and the question became, did we really want to get all of our chips into action when we were probably only a small favorite (Tony, after all, had lost as a 3-2 favorite)? There were also hands, like the one I ran into, against which we'd be fairly serious underdogs. Heck, we'd even be underdogs to small pairs.

As a result, even though I had time to look at only about 28 hands before I'd be out of chips (and more realistically would have had to make a move within 12-16 hands, lest I be so low on chips that doubling up wouldn't mean much), I think the strategy of trying to double through Layne was wrong. It wasn't the worst play in the history of poker, but I think it was wrong.

I guess Men "The Master" must have missed playing with me, because one hand after Tony exited, David Chiu made it $12,000 to go, and Men moved all in for a total of $43,000 from the button. After careful consideration, the man who had become famous for laying down K-K before the flop against what turned out to be Louis Asmo's A-A in the inaugural Tournament of Champions decided he was going to call here. A-Q for Chiu, 5-5 for Nguyen, and the pair looked good for about two seconds: The first card off was a queen, and the final board was Q-10-4-6-A.

We were threehanded, with Flack's inevitable presence, along with Chiu and Buss, who had to be congratulating themselves for maneuvering into the good money positions. The chips at this point were:

Flack - 873K

Buss - 41K

Chiu - 127K

Shortly thereafter, the blinds moved up to $3,000-$6,000, with $1,000 antes, meaning it would cost $12,000 to sit out a three-hand round. Soon after that, Buss had added about 40K more to his stack, with Chiu's stack unchanged, when we encountered another key moment. Buss folded his button, Chiu limped in from the small blind, and Flack checked to look at the flop.

Did the Clue Make Any Difference?

The flop came down 8 8 8, and as Chiu bet $15,000, I noticed something. Buss reached for his still-within-range discarded hand (the dealer hadn't pulled it into the muck) and took a look at it. This convinced me that Buss had folded the fourth 8, and after the hand was over, Buss said exactly that. This will be another of those times I'll be glad the WPT uses the shown holecards format.

There's no way to know if the players noticed Buss' action (he was at the opposite end of the table), and if they had seen it, whether they had drawn the same conclusion I had, and even then, whether knowledge that they were safe from quads affected the betting. Nonetheless, Flack moved all in on Chiu. Chiu considered for a little while, and decided to call, and it seemed a mighty good decision when they turned the hands over: Flack had moved in with A-6, and Chiu had called with A-10.

Flack was just having one of those days, though, for the second day in a row. The turn card was a 6, leaving Chiu dead to a 10 on the river (the missing 8 meant Chiu couldn't split if quads appeared), and the J that arrived was one pip too high. Chiu was gone.

I was tempted to think, "Where was the K-10 or the A-6 when I had the A-J?" But, as Ma and Chiu had learned, it really didn't matter on this day.

Buss, who had started the day in last place in the "five-way tie," had maneuvered into second place, at least. Before the heads-up duel commenced, the money and trophy were brought out and placed on the table, and we got an accurate chip count:

Flack - 938K

Buss - 103K

Flack had been calling for cocktails throughout the day, not wanting, I suppose, to do anything differently than he had on day No. 1, and with the match now heads up, Layne started ordering two at a time, while he usually ordered one for Buss at the same time. Buss' drinks contained just a bit less alcohol, though, reasonably analogous to the way Lake Michigan contains just a bit less water than the Pacific Ocean.

Heads up, the small blind goes on the button (SBB), and acts first before the flop but second after the flop.

The First Major Encounter Starts Weirdly

and Ends Bizarrely

A pattern of Flack winning more pots but Buss winning the larger pots emerged over the first 17 hands, with Buss unable to collect much the one time he got dealt A-A, when hand No. 18 started out sublimely odd and ended up ridiculously surreal.

Buss limped in from the SBB, but Flack raised it to 30K, and Buss moved in, a raise of an additional $57,000. Here's where the weirdness began. Flack, who had grown more and more animated throughout the day, made some kind of unclear motion. This wasn't unusual: Animated people make lots of unclear motions.

On this occasion, though, something about Flack's motion convinced Buss that Flack was folding, and he started to show his hand. I'll credit Flack for lightning-like reflexes: Even before Buss had completed the motion, Flack frantically tried to tell Buss he hadn't yet folded, but a body in motion tends to stay in motion, and Buss exposed his pocket nines.

Both acted as gentlemen while they tried to figure out what to do. Buss readily admitted that Flack hadn't done anything improper, and Flack indicated that he had been leaning toward calling. They called for a tournament official to make a ruling, but before anyone had a chance to get the full story, much less make a decision, Flack indicated he didn't want to do anything that could in any way be considered improper, so he folded, showing an ace.

I couldn't tell if Flack showed his kicker; if it was a 10 or higher, Flack was giving away significant equity by folding. If it was 9 or lower, Flack would have been calling with roughly 30 percent winning chances in a situation in which he would have had to put $57,000 in to shoot at $101,000.

Flack Makes a Classy Decision

Even when you take pot odds into account, that a little shy of enough to justify calling with one overcard, but when you add in the chance to finish off Buss being worth more than the risk of giving him another $57,000, it's probably in Flack's best interest to call. Any way you look at it, Flack did the classy thing. That wasn't always the case later in the day, as his blood-alcohol level skyrocketed, but he deserves a lot of credit on this one.

(As an aside, I really hate writing uncomplimentary things about people I like, and I like Layne Flack a lot. My first duty is to the truth, though, and if that weren't enough - and it is - in this case, with the table televised, a failure to mention this noticeable aspect of the final table would be exposed for its incompleteness.)

Now, the weird got weirder, because the players did something that's not supposed to happen anytime (especially in a tournament), and certainly not at the final table of a major tournament: They went rabbit hunting. In case you're not familiar with that phrase, it means they asked the dealer to show them what the flop would have been, even though the hand was over, and the dealer complied (before berating the dealer, it's important to note that rabbit hunting is an infinitely less severe problem/etiquette breach in a heads-up game than it is in a multihanded one). An ace showed up on the "what if" flop.

This Rod Serling's Twilight Zone moment got presented for our consideration again six hands later, when Buss limped in from the button, Flack raised it 40K more, and Buss moved in, with Flack calling quickly. Buss turned over pocket tens, and a visibly unhappy Flack showed his pocket eights.

Sixty-Nine Was Not Devine

The J-10-9 flop hit both of them in a curious fashion: Buss had flopped a set, but Flack had picked up an open-end straight draw (although losing his chance to win with a lone 8). Even though Buss had flopped a set, this flop had improved Flack's position from a 4.5-1 dog to a 3-1 dog, but he couldn't hit a 7 or queen, as the board finished 6-9. Under other circumstances, 6-9 can be either a good start or a good finish, but not here.

This hand doubled Buss through to $212,000 (leaving Flack at $819,000). A 4-1 chip deficit is overwhelming in limit poker, but in no-limit, it makes for a real match (Buss was two double-throughs away from the chip lead), and before play could resume, the Lakers owner graciously asked for the microphone and told the crowd, "Just remember, if he hadn't been such a gentleman on the 9-9 hand (the rabbit-hunting hand when they discovered an ace would have hit the flop), this game would already be over."

Flack rarely misses a chance for a one-liner, and immediately shouted, "All right, freeroll on season tickets!"

The blinds moved up to $5,000-$10,000, with $2,000 antes, meaning it would cost $19,000 to sit out a two-hand round. Even Buss had 20 big blinds in his stack: These players weren't going to have to give a lot of action if they didn't want to, but that wasn't in their natures.

Soon thereafter (the 27th heads-up hand), Flack started on one of the more impressive bluff-attack sequences I've ever witnessed, and I got to witness them because, for reasons Flack didn't want to discuss afterward, he showed every one of them.

On the first, Flack opened for a raise to 25K from the SBB, Buss reraised another 40K, and Flack called; we had 134K in the pot preflop. The flop came K K Q, Buss checked, Flack bet 80K, and Buss folded.

Now That's a Bluff!

Flack casually flipped over the 5 3, a hand that could win only with a bet, because it missed the flop by about as much as you can miss.

On the next hand, Buss limped in from the SBB, Flack checked, and they looked at an 8-8-2 flop. Flack led out for 20K, Buss folded, and Flack flipped over 6-5.

Two whole hands went by without a shown bluff, one 24K pot for each player, and then Flack was back.

Layne limped in from the SBB, Buss checked, and we got a Q-7-7 flop. Buss checked, Layne bet 10K, Buss folded, and Layne showed 8-4.

On the next hand, Buss limped in from the SBB, Flack checked (a pattern of not just bluffs, but also limp-ins emerging), and the flop came K-K-3. Flack bet 20K, Buss folded, and Flack showed 9-5. This was starting to remind me of the title of Michael Konik's book, Telling Lies and Getting Paid. Flack had shown four stone-cold bluffs in the span of six hands.

After four uneventful hands, Flack may or may not have dodged a big silver bullet. After he limped in from the SBB, each player checked the A 8 5 flop. The J hit the turn, and Flack led out for 11K, certainly a funky bet, and Buss called.

The 9 hit the river, completing a flush draw if anyone was on one. Flack checked, Buss moved all in, and Flack showed he was folding A-6. The guy who had bet without a conscience when holding nothing hadn't bet his aces on the flop and had only put a toe in the water on the turn. Buss showed the K, but not his other card, leaving Layne to wonder whether he had escaped big trouble from a flush or not. We'll know on June 4. Man, do I love this format.

Be Careful What You Ask For: You Might Get It

Seven hands later, we had another limp-in pot, with Buss on the button. The flop came 10-3-2, and Flack moved all in. Buss called without much hesitation with 10-9. Flack flipped up 3-2, bottom two pair, and a hand that he probably would have let go to a preflop raise had turned into a big one. The all-in bet made sense, though, because bottom two pair, especially when they're as bottom as these two were, are far more vulnerable than many players realize.

With Flack yelling, "Nine, nine, nine!" he got what he asked for but didn't want: The 9 hit the turn, and now Buss had two higher pair. An irrelevant king hit the river, and Buss had doubled through. He was now back in the match again, holding about 200K.

Flack was back at his showing bluffs form two hands later, when he opened for 35K from the SBB, with Buss calling. Buss checked the Ku Qu 2 flop, Flack bet 45K, and after Buss showed that he had laid down A-3, Flack showed his 9-3. It's one thing to try to steal preflop, but once you get called for a big number, shoving another 45K at a pot while holding nothing proved again that Flack had the feel for the steal.

Seven hands later, with Buss still hovering around the 200K mark, Flack opened for 60K from the SBB, Buss moved all in, and Flack called. This was obviously going to be hugely pivotal; if Flack won, the tournament was over; if Buss were to win, we likely were in for a long battle, with the chips distributed roughly 600K-400K in Flack's favor - meaning Flack was going to have to be extremely careful, because a Buss double-through would then give him a 4-1 chip lead!

It Was Time for a Shaq Attack

Flack turned over the A Q, while Buss turned over the Au 10u. Flack was a 7-3 favorite. Could diamonds or a 10 be Buss' equivalent of Shaq or Kobe to the rescue?

The flop came 5 2 2. Diamonds and Shaq were out. Could Kobe be as perfect a 10 as he is on the basketball court? The turn brought the 3u, now giving Buss a chance to escape with a split pot if the "4" corners offense would work.

The river brought the 9, and Layne Flack, the man who seemed to hold an impossible advantage when this day began, had escaped a tough heads-up battle with the man who had started the day last and least in the chip count, but apparently first (or at least second) in heart, patience, and coolness under fire.

Mike Sexton, one of the WPT's announcers, took the microphone and said to Buss, "With Layne having all those chips, you must have felt a little like you were facing Shaq, Kobe, and Magic." Buss, still the cool customer, quickly replied, "If Shaq, Kobe, and Magic had been here today, I would have won," a remark that drew thunderous applause and rousing laughter from the crowd.

It's a WPT tradition to bring out champagne at the end of each tournament, for the winner, runner-up, and key WPT and host casino personnel. A couple of minutes of post-victory comments and interviews had passed when someone finally remembered the tradition and asked, "Do we have a champagne toast ready?"

Phil Gordon Produces the Perfect One-Liner

Phil Gordon, the 6-foot-9-inch charismatic player who finished fourth in the 2001 WSOP, instantly quipped in a rather mischievous tone, "Oh, I'm not sure we really need that." It was such a funny and situation-appropriate line, I asked him if I could quote him, and he said, "Yes, if you mention our cancer research adventure."

As a result, I need to tell you that since the 2001 WSOP, Gordon has been devoting most of his time to a venture whose name can be found in its web address, UltimateSportsAdventure.com, a series of trips to all of the biggest sporting events in the United States (gosh, what a rough way to make a living: "Two guys in a monster RV on the greatest road trip in sports history," as the brochure describes it).

Gordon may well be in the process of creating the greatest road trip in sports history, but the two men behind the WPT, CEO Steve Lipscomb (an award-winning television creator) and Lyle Berman (a Hall of Fame poker player and the equivalent of a Hall of Fame businessman), appear to be in the process of creating the greatest television trip in poker history.

Is a Paradigm Shift Upon Us?

Poker tournament final tables usually offer a tough, well-played fight, and the Flack-Buss contest certainly measured up, something that could hardly have been expected when Flack started the day with $763,000 and Buss with $35,000. This particular final table offered not only the traditional battle for prize money, but also a major step forward in the battle for corporate sponsorship, and if that happens, it means a true paradigm shift for poker players everywhere, with tournaments no longer a zero-sum (or worse) game.

I wasn't proud of my decision to attack Flack, but I felt and feel very proud to have been part of an event that might finally turn poker into a win-win scenario, creating a paradigm shift that could forever change and improve our already great game. Even players who never play tournaments could enjoy trickle-down effect benefits.

There's one big if, naturally: The WPT has to produce ratings that justify the unprecedented production costs (great production values don't come cheap). If the WPT can do that, either this year or next, poker's hitherto untapped value as a television product will have arrived, finally letting poker boldly go where it has never gone before, creating opportunities for everyone involved in poker.

I just love happy endings … don't you?

Final official results were as follows:

WPT $200,000 Celebrity Invitational Freeroll

Entrants: 104

1. Layne Flack $100,000

(plus paid seat in WPT $25,000 championship event)

2. Jerry Buss 40,000

3. David Chiu 20,000

4. Men "The Master" Nguyen 10,000

5. Hieu "Tony" Ma 7,000

6. Andy Glazer 6,000

7. Mickey Rooney 5,000

(plus $5,000 for being highest celebrity finisher)

8. Carlos Mortensen 3,000

9. Brad Daugherty 2,000

10. David Pham 1,000