Patience, Patience, Patience … Not! - Part I

What the heck was I doing 25 miles east of Syracuse, New York, at Turning Stone Resort and Casino? Hadn't I turned down the offer to play in their tournament in which the final table would be televised live via FoxSportsNet? Didn't I have a monthlong trip through Europe already paid for? Wasn't I supposed to be in Paris with my wife and kids right then? The answers to these questions were: I was going to win the Turning Stone tournament for one of my best friends, yes, yes, and yes.

My family and I were in Ireland when I received a phone call at 3:30 a.m., in which I was told Andy Glazer had died a few days earlier. There was no question in my mind that I would scramble my monthlong European vacation to be at Andy's funeral to honor him. I told my wife to go on with the kids, and that I'd meet them in Paris a few days later. But, she loved Andy as well, and we quickly decided to catch a flight to be at the funeral in Long Island.

A day or so later, I found out that the Turning Stone tournament would start in a few days. To me, a three-hour drive north sounded a lot better than flying all the way back to Paris for the World Poker Tour event there. (It's sad that I missed all three WPT events in Paris, which is one of my favorite cities, but it is a long flight.)

In any case, while we were celebrating Andy's life – and laughing at all of our "Andy" stories – in a hotel room with family and close friends, I hatched a plan. I would win Turning Stone for Andy!

On day one of the tournament, I was focused and ran my $10,000 in chips up to $50,000. At that point, I noticed that Phil Ivey was playing a style I had never seen him use; he was playing extremely tight! Apparently, it didn't last too long, because later on I heard many stories about his aggressiveness on day two. When we were together on day one, Ivey said, "The two of us have never made a final table together in a no-limit hold'em tournament."

With 70 players remaining and Phil and I in full control of massive stacks of chips, I think we both believed it would happen this time around. Ivey delivered on his end by making the final table, and then won the whole ball of wax. Congratulations, Phil (you're a classy young man, and you know I've always liked you). Alas, I didn't deliver on my end; instead, I catapulted my chips off into space. Naturally, I did it in spectacular fashion.

After making the final 36 players, I knew we would be heading to day two with six tables of six players apiece. My 50K had me in great stead, and I had a nice little game plan. With the blinds at a relatively small $200-$400, I decided to play rather tight for a while, until the time was right to start making moves. So much for the best laid plans of mice and men!

Somehow, right from the start, I started to play far too many hands, eventually raising in one memorable pot with the 4 2. With the blinds at $250-$500, I made it $1,500 to go from first position. Billy Gazes called me from late position, and so did Young Phan from the big blind. I hit the flop with force when it came down A K J – yeah, right! Anyway, I bet out with force – $3,000 – after having completely missed the flop.

Gazes called the $3,000 bet relatively quickly, and then Young studied for a long while before folding his hand, later claiming he had pocket queens. The turn card was the 8, and now I bet out $6,000 on a stone-cold bluff. Bill again called fairly quickly, but now I felt very strongly that he was weak, with a hand like A-10, K-Q, or something similar. The speed of his call made me think he wanted me to think he was strong, and thus I believed he was weak.

The river was the 9, for a possible flush and a final board of A K J 8 9, and I decided to be a "man" and not dog this pot. After all, I did put Bill on a weak hand. So, I bet $10,000 of my last $16,000 on my 4-high bluff. I felt like a world champion with nerves of steel after I "fired all three barrels" (Mike Sexton's term, meaning to bluff on the flop, turn, and river). Indeed, it was a strong play, but, clearly, I forgot that most times, discretion is the better part of valor.

Bill went into the tank, and after a few minutes, he said, "I know I'm taking a long time, just another minute." Then, he studied another three minutes, and said, "Just another 30 seconds." Then, he studied another two minutes. I thought he would call, then I thought he would fold, and back and forth. Try bluffing most of your chips off and then sitting there for more than five minutes while someone ices you down! Trust me, it's pretty brutal! Bill has a reputation for being slow, but this was ridiculous. Young said he took 15 minutes. I wasn't sure, but it seemed like a long time to me, as I was the one who was sweating it out.

As far as being slow goes, sometimes I'm a bit slow myself. Thus, I don't mind someone calling a clock on me after two minutes the first time I do it at a table, and 90 seconds thereafter. I'm sure that Bill, who is a great guy by all accounts, doesn't mind being put on the clock under the above-named circumstances, either. In any case, he made an absolutely great call with his A-10, although the call was a bit easier given that he had the A. In any case, my hat's off to Bill for making that brilliant call. By the way, I don't have a problem with Bill taking his time, especially inasmuch as I've done it myself at times.

Meanwhile, what was I thinking? All I had to do was sit back for a while and protect my chips until it was the right time to run over the table. Instead, I tried to bluff a player who is very good at making tough calls. Duh! After playing so well on day one, I lost it on day two, and left myself crippled with merely $6,000 in chips. In my next column, I'll tell you the rest of the story.

Editor's note: Chat or play poker with Phil at UltimateBet.com. To learn more about him, his books, and DVDs, go to PhilHellmuth.com.