How I (Accidentally) Got Through 2,684 People to a Final Table - Part II

Fighting one's way through a massive field is a task that every tournament player faces in today's environment, especially in the lower buy-in World Series of Poker (WSOP) events. In my last column, I detailed how I slogged my way through day one of event No. 52, $1,500 no-limit hold'em (2,693 entrants). I went into day two with an above-average stack of 41,800 - but in a tournament like that one, having an above-average chip stack deep in the event doesn't mean a whole lot.

In fact, the blinds for the opening level were 800-1,600 with a 200 ante, so I had only about 26 big blinds to start the day. That stack quickly dwindled after I failed to get dealt any playable hands for the first orbit and a half. At some point, I would have to make a move.

I decided to make that move when everyone folded around to professional player Jim Miller on the button, and he opened for a standard raise. I thought an aggressive player like Jim would open-raise from the button with many hands, and I thought he would have to fold a large percentage of them if I reraised him. So, after the small blind folded, I decided to move my stack in without much of a hand; I held a measly K-4 offsuit. Jim started to think, and the longer he thought, the more I realized that I had run into one of his stronger button-raising hands. Sure enough, he eventually called with A-10 offusit. I have to give him credit for making a very good call. Unfortunately for Jim, the turn brought a 4, and when the river failed to change anything, I suddenly had new life.

Three levels later, I still had roughly the same stack - 85,000 with blinds of 2,000-4,000 and a 500 ante. Everyone folded to me on the button, and I opened for 13,000 with pocket sevens. Nath Pizzolatto, an excellent Internet and brick-and-mortar casino player, moved me in from the small blind. The big blind folded, and I called off my chips rather quickly. I figured Nath would play back at me quite aggressively, as he knows that I don't need to have anything at all to be open-raising from the button. For this reason, I couldn't justify folding a hand as big as 7-7 when getting 3-to-2 on my money. I had to win the showdown only 40 percent of the time to show a profit. Luckily for me, Nath had pocket deuces, and I found myself a substantial favorite. My hand held up, and now I was among the chip leaders.

I caught a bunch of good cards to build my stack even more. When my table broke, we were down to the final 54 players, but I got an extremely unwelcome seat. Immediately to my left sat Dan Heimiller, one of the few players with more chips than me, and one of the last players I'd ever want to see on my left in any situation. I didn't want to tangle with him too much, and instead planned to pick on the shorter stacks. But when everyone folded to me in the small blind, I just couldn't help myself and chose to raise to 24,000 (blinds of 4,000-8,000 with a 1,000 ante) with the Q 7. Dan called from the big blind, as I should've known he would. I certainly didn't hate the flop, which came 9-8-8 with two diamonds. I led out for 35,000. Dan thought for a few seconds and called. I hated the turn card even less - as the 10 completed my flush! I checked with the intention of check-raising, and Dan obliged by betting 80,000 into the 127,000 pot. My stack, a little more than 300,000, left me with only one play at that point: move all in. Dan started thinking, long and hard. At my previous table, I had more than twice as many chips as my nearest competitor. It seemed inconceivable that just a few minutes later, I would find myself going all in against an opponent who had me covered, yet there I was. The longer Dan thought, the more confident I became that I had the best hand, and yet, Dan kept saying things like, "I never fold this hand," and, "Wouldn't you have to have a full house to make that bet?" The reporters covering the event said that I waited seven minutes before finally calling the clock on Dan. Once I did, he folded rather quickly. Putting together all of his speeches as he pondered his decision, I believe Dan had a smaller flush and was drawing dead. (Hey, Dan, if you're reading this - what did you have?)

From there, I had another run of good luck that led to relatively smooth sailing all the way to the final two tables. Once there, however, I hit a major snag. With 13 players left, I lost a huge coin flip with A-K against two jacks, and shortly thereafter, I lost another 200,000 on a bluff that failed miserably. In an instant, I had become one of the shorter remaining stacks. But, with the blinds extremely large relative to the chip counts, it would take only one or two hands to get me right back near the top.

When everyone folded to me on the button, I opened for a standard raise with A-J offsuit. My opponent in the big blind, a relatively tight player, called. The flop came 9-7-7 and my opponent checked. A little worried about this tight player giving me action, I checked right behind him. The turn brought a jack, and my opponent checked again. I now strongly believed that I had the best hand and bet 90,000. My opponent called relatively quickly. The river brought a blank, and my opponent checked again. I saw no reason to change my assessment of the situation and made another bet - this time, 210,000. My opponent went into the tank. I was pretty sure that he had a 9 or a weaker jack, and I thought I had a pretty good chance of getting paid off. He eventually made the call. I tabled my hand, and it was good. He told me later that he had pocket tens.

On the very next hand, I woke up with two aces for the fifth time that day. (I told you I was getting good cards!) The shortest stack at the table, who'd been playing über-tight up to that point, finally decided to take his stand with A-6 offsuit. Oops. It turned out that just as I busted him, another player busted out at the other table, and we were down to the final nine and finished for the day. A few minutes earlier, I'd been among the short stacks. I went to the final table second in chips.

Next column: day three, the final table.

Matt Matros is the author of The Making of a Poker Player, which is available online at www.CardPlayer.com. He is also a featured coach for stoxpoker.com.