The Main Freakin' Event - Part II

We left off in my last column with an Internet kid laying a bad beat on another guy, boosting his stack close to a hundred thousand. And he didn't let this new stack sit idle, as he put it to work. He was raising or reraising most every hand, while I hid and waited. "Internet Kid" was now "Table Bully" in my mind.

On one of the few hands he didn't raise, I looked down at two aces on the button; great. I was fearing a walk when the guy on my right made a standard raise. Not wanting to scare him off, I min-reraised him and he pushed with his pocket kings. There was no help for him, and I was prepared to put a dent in our new table bully's stack.

As the clock started to wind down on the close of my day one, our table bully had lost none of his pace. He was playing very aggressively and hadn't shown down a hand in a long while. When someone would finally challenge him and reraise him, he would shove his giant stack all in over and over again.

I was torn between trying to just get through day one and hope for a better table and a better run of cards, or taking a shot at Goliath. In hindsight, I should have chosen the former. My final hand started off slowly.

Bully raised from early position and I called with the 6 5 after another player had called in front of me. Another player behind me called, as did the big blind. The flop came 6 3 2. It was not a bad flop for my hand, as raisers usually have either high cards or a fair-sized pair. The high cards, I had beat, and I was only around a 2-1 dog against an overpair.

Now, had we been heads up, I would have raised the bully right here on the flop if he bet, but we were not heads up. If he bet here (and he did), I had to worry about the other players in the pot as well as the raiser/bully. Not only that, but even as aggressive as he was, it takes a lot of guts (or stupidity) to fire into four players when you have completely missed the flop.

Knowing all of this, the warning bells went off in my head when he bet out. The first player folded, and I just called to see one more card, as well as see what the other two guys behind me would do. They both folded, and fourth street brought an interesting card indeed, the 6!

I had made trips to go with my gutshot-straight draw, but it placed three diamonds out there. The bully checked and the warning bells turned into air-raid sirens! It was as if every fiber of my being was screaming check! Every time he had checked and someone had bet, he had moved in, but how could I just check?

I mean, if another diamond came and put four diamonds on the board, I'd be hard-pressed to call a bet and would be sick to get beat by something like K-10 offsuit with a diamond. I ignored my intuition and listened to the logical side of my brain, and bet around the size of the pot. Bully didn't even hesitate; he moved his mega stack all in, as he had been doing all day.

Damn! Now what? I quickly ran the numbers in my head and figured I was not getting the right price to draw for a full house against a made flush. I also started to figure in the other possibilities.

He might be holding a 6, as I was, in which case his kicker would almost certainly beat mine, or he might already be full himself. More likely, he might have a pocket pair, probably big, and is either playing his hand as the best hand or hoping to make me lay down exactly what I have, or a small flush, knowing that he has a few outs if I don't. The last and best of all the scenarios I can think of is a stone-cold bluff. He may have nothing but air here. If I had, say, a medium pocket pair, I'd have played it exactly like this, and I'd have to fold to his raise. Hmm. Or, maybe it's a semibluff with the A.

When I add these possibilities into the equation, I talk myself into a call even though I put him on a big hand. Oh how I hoped I was wrong as I shoved the last of my chips into the pot. I wasn't, and was out of the freakin' main event. I then had to make the walk of shame as Norman Chad's vultures - actually, ESPN's cameramen - filmed me mope out of the room.

Oh well, I'll have to wait another year for another shot.

The WPT Bellagio Cup started right after the WSOP, so I was looking for a little redemption. I was on top of my game and had made several big bluffs, and picked off a few aimed at me. I then was lucky enough to pick up pocket aces when a guy had come over the top of someone with A-K suited. When I made a big reraise, he decided that he was committed and pushed on me. Thank you, poker gods!

I thought all was going my way as the dinner break came. The clock was ticking down and Ted Forrest started complaining about not wanting to have to come back to a short stack, and he moved all in two hands in a row, stealing the blinds and antes. On the very last hand before the break, Ted moved all in for a third consecutive time.

Everyone passed to me, and I was either on the button or one off it, I don't recall. I looked down at the K, then sweated my second card. There was nothing across, meaning it was an ace, deuce, or trey. When I sweated it down further, it was a middle spotter, an ace or a trey. The next step in the sweat process was the suit, and it was a heart!

I now held either the K 3 or the A K. I was definitely going to call with A-K suited, and I actually started to pray: Please, God, let me put this fool out of his misery - or something like that. I told Ted that I was 50-50 to call, and he looked sick.

Well, as they say, be careful what you wish (or pray) for. I had the A-K suited and announced a call. Ted let out a sigh of relief when he saw my hand, and turned over pocket sevens. The doorcard was a king, but before I could rejoice, I saw there was also a 7 on the flop.

I got to go to dinner as a short stack, and came back in superaggressive mode. I stole a few pots and outlasted a few more tables of players, when I picked up K-Q in early position. I hate this hand in this spot, as I don't have enough chips to throw it away. The blinds and antes are just too big, and A-K or A-Q must call my move-in. If called, I just have to pray that my opponent has a small pair, for a decent chance of winning the pot.

Sure enough, I ran into A-Q and was out in 42nd place, cashing for a mere $25,855. So close, yet so far …