God Save the Queen

"God Save the Queen," and all of her subjects who play poker. These guys are gonna need divine intervention if they hope to stay in money. OK, I know you're sick of reading that by now. This is the last time - at least I hope so.

Finally, it was time for the World Series of Poker Europe main event! It was spread out over several casinos, for some reason. I don't really see why space was such an issue. They just could have taken a few roulette tables out for a day and we would have been fine.

Anyway, I drew the Sportsman Club, which is like in another part of Europe. It took me three taxi drivers to find one who knew where it was, and I was three hours late. (And I still didn't make the dinner break! How bad do I play?)

The tournament area was quiet and comfortable, tucked under the casino in a spacious basement. I drew a table of Brits and two of the best tournament players alive, Freddy Deeb and Humberto Brenes. Very soon, I was able to categorize the rest of the table pretty much into one group - fast and dangerous.

This type of player used to be rare; people still talk about Stuey Ungar as if he died yesterday. Today, they're more common than a young starlet on drugs, getting into trouble with the law. The Internet breeds these players.

For some strange reason, I thought I was going to be able to steal the blinds from one of these guys. He looked like he was about 12 years old, and from the awkward way that he handled his chips, it was obvious that he was one of these Internet kids. I raised from the cutoff with the 9 7 and he called from the blind.

The flop brought the K 10 3, a pretty typical flop for me when I hold this kind of hand. When he checked, I figured I'd follow through and try to steal it here. He called, and the turn brought the 7. I finally had made a pair, but decided to check behind him. The river brought the 9, and once again he checked.

I now had two pair, but the open-end straight draw had gotten there, as well as the backdoor-flush draw. I had a bad feeling, but decided two pair was too big a hand to check down. I made a small bet and got raised. This damned hand was just not working out as planned!

My first impression was that I was beat. I was guessing the straight, but I kept thinking he would have check-raised me on the flop with such a good draw. The flush? A backdoor flush is always unlikely in hold'em, although it can never be ruled out.

I figured he would have had to have some piece of the flop to go with the backdoor draw, such as a pair or a gutshot. The A Q or A J would have fit the bill, but they were such good hands that he probably would have reraised preflop. The Q 9 or J 9? That was more likely, but I figured he probably wouldn't have called with the idiot end of the straight. It was just too likely that I could hold the top end of the straight draw and he would lose all of his chips if he connected.

That left the pair and a backdoor-flush draw. Since the 3 is the suit of the flush out there, a hand like the A 3♥ is gone. If he had a 10, I probably would have heard from him before this. A king? Hmm. Maybe he got a great flop and was trapping all along.

I never took my eyes off him, and I knew it was making him uncomfortable. He swallowed five times in 40 seconds. With his perceived lack of live play, I counted out a reverse tell and went against my gut feeling and called the raise. He showed me the A K. He did flop a big hand and slow-played it on all three streets. Not many players can wait till the end to check-raise. Well done.

This hand didn't cripple me, but it along with several others burned up half of my stack by the time the 10-minute countdown to dinner began. My demise began on my big blind, the same situation four rounds in a row.

The same guy had stolen my blind the previous three rounds. I planned to set a little trap for him later, when the blinds got up there. I didn't get to wait for that, however.

When he raised my blind from the cutoff for the fourth consecutive time, Humberto smooth-called from the button.

I liked this, as it would either give me pot odds to call or make a reraise look stronger, because I was raising not one, but two players. I looked down at A-K suited and that was good enough. I made an oversized raise, letting my opponents know that I was pot-committed.

I figured the first guy had nothing and would muck. I knew Humberto had some kind of good hand, but probably would release a middle pair that had me beat. Sure enough, the first guy mucked, but Humberto moved all in. It was an automatic call for me, and I was OK in this race; A-K versus Q-Q is the ultimate no-limit hold'em showdown.

The flop looked great, with an ace and three hearts. Humberto had no heart; he is a coward! (Just kidding. He had no heart in his hand; he had two black queens.) He had only two outs. The turn brought another heart, so while Humberto picked up nine outs to split the pot, he was down to only one out to win. Well, that's all my opponents need against me … the Q on the river sent me out the door!

I'd traveled halfway around the planet to play in these three tournaments to get coolered like this? Brutal! The one saving grace was that my good friend Jennifer Harman, or Jennifer Traniello, or whatever the hell she's calling herself this week, finished second in the H.O.R.S.E. event.

I was about to jump on a plane to get the hell out of England when I got a call. I was invited to play in a televised cash game just outside London. I agreed, and was picked up by a helicopter and flown to a nearby city where the studios were housed. In the game were a few Englishmen I didn't know, along with the Devil Fish (David Ulliott), Max Pescatori, Jamie Gold, Tony G, a drunken Robert Williamson III, and a guy named Roland … umm … his last name sounded like some sort of gay French animal. I think it was Roland De Donkey.

Quite a lineup, huh? (My sister Pam, as in … "Well, my name's Pam," and my friend Hoyt Corkins also played later.) I wanted to discuss several interesting hands that we played, but I'm almost out of room, so I'll just settle on one.

Tony G (check out YouTube under Tony G vs. Ralph Perry for a great laugh) raised from up front and I called with A-Q. Roland De Donkey came in from the small blind. The flop came Q-7-2 rainbow, which was pretty good for me. Tony G bet the size of the pot and I raised about triple what he bet. Roland reraised about triple that, all in.

Tony G showed two jacks and folded, and I quickly called. Roland showed me the Q 9 and lost the pot. Nice raise, Roland. Fair enough that he was hoping Tony G missed the flop, but when I cold-called a raise preflop and then made a big raise on the flop, what did he think I had? Q-8? (LOL!) But don't worry about Roland De Donkey, as there is some hope for him … divine intervention.