Insuring Phil

December was a good month for me in tournaments. I entered three, winning the first and placing 15th in the third. Ironically, the 15th-place finish in the WPT's Doyle Brunson Classic at Bellagio paid two and a half times ($96,335) more than the first-place win ($38,500), which was the Beauty and the Bet tournament, benifiting the TASER Foundation and hosted by Phil Hellmuth at the Palms Casino. Why the big difference? Well, for one thing, my father's tourney had almost 700 participants who had to pony up $15,000, compared to a little more than a hundred at $2,500 per person at the Palms. The Palms tournament was also a charity event, so half of the prize pool went to the national charity that supports the families of fallen police officers.

I wanted to mention the Palms tourney for two reasons: The first is that as depleted as our ranks now are, two Doylesroom players won tournaments on the same day! My win you know about, but Hoyt Corkins won the $5,000 event at The Venetian. The second is the type of thing that seems to happen to only me.

I'm playing in the Beauty and the Bet tournament, minding my own business, when I hear someone screaming like a madman, followed by, "Where's Todd Brunson? Where's Todd Brunson?" This in itself is actually not an uncommon occurrence. I figure that one of my past deeds has caught up with me, so I keep my head down, hoping that whatever this storm is, it will pass.

It doesn't. "Where's Todd Brunson? Where's Todd Brunson?" I ignore it again and sink down more in my chair. When I next hear my whereabouts questioned over the loudspeaker, I figure that this isn't going away and I'll have to face my fate. I stand up and see Phil Hellmuth dancing around like one of those Mexican jumping beans, frantically waving me over, yelling my name into a microphone.

I walk over to see a common sight; Phil and Hoyt are all in against each other, and Phil has the best hand. Phil has pocket aces and Hoyt has Q-J offsuit. (Another guy's actually in the middle of this with pocket kings.) Phil's ranting that he always has the best hand and Hoyt always sucks out. He wants me to give him insurance. (Insurance is taking slightly worse than true odds, just in case your hand loses.)

I tell him I'm not interested and start to walk away, when he starts saying that he wants to get 12-to-3 or 16-to-4 on Hoyt's hand. That got my attention, and I shot back over to ask Phil to clarify the bet. "I want you to lay me $16,000 to $4,000 that Hoyt's hand will win." Well, that's 4-to-1, and I know the true odds are about 5.5-to-1

If the circumstance were slightly different, I would refuse the bet, fearing that I was somehow being cheated, but I've known Phil and Hoyt for more than 20 years, so I know that can't be the case. I can't refuse free money, so I accept the bet. The flop comes with a jack and two rags. The crowd moans, and when I see Hoyt's ear-to-ear grin, I know I'm in trouble.

I want to get insurance on my insurance, but I'm too sick to speak. A blank on the turn gives me hope, but the inevitable jack on the end quickly crushes all of that. It was almost worth losing the $16,000 with what followed.

Phil starts one of his famous tirades for which he's so famous. "See? I never beat this guy a pot! He always moves in on me with the worst hand and sucks out! Freakin' no-skill, all-in cowboy! I play perfect poker all day and set him up beautifully, then bam! He sucks out!" (If you want to see more of this, go to YouTube and enter Phil vs. Hoyt, or go to Hoyt's MySpace page. It will be well worth your time.)

Unfortunately, the fact that Phil just beat me out of a nice-size bet starts to cool him off. I can't have that! I paid for a floor show and I was gonna get my money's worth - all 16 thousand of it!

I start to tell Phil that I was actually betting on Hoyt, not against him. A wink quickly gets Hoyt, and the rail on my side, as they figure out what I'm trying to do. Unfortunately, Phil was a little too sharp to fall for my hijinks. My needle had no point, and Philly calmed down to just below the raving maniac level.

I kept it up for the rest of the tournament, though, telling Phil I'd pay only if I came in first place. He said he wasn't falling for it, but I think he was secretly rooting for me. In the end, I'm not sure, but I think I saw a sigh of relief when the river card didn't help my opponent and I won the tournament.