Bittersweet

Another World Series of Poker has come and gone. While I didn’t win a bracelet, I did cash three times, including a final table. I figure that most pros average 1.5 cashes per WSOP, so in that regard, I had a pretty good Series. I would have made money for the Series if it weren’t for the $50,000 H.O.R.S.E. event. I missed the money by three players in that one, and it was a real heartbreaker. (I’m going to dedicate an entire column to that tournament soon, so stay tuned.)

So, was I satisfied with my ’09 WSOP? Yes and no. It was very bittersweet for me; sweet from the standpoint that I cashed three times for almost $100,000, but bitter in that in the five other events I played, I came extremely close to doing well.

I made it to the end of day two in every event I played (excluding the last one I played before the main event, deuce-to-seven triple-draw lowball). On three separate occasions, I made it down to three tables with my father still in and both of us having a lot of chips. Of the three, I made one final table, and he made one. If we had made one together, ESPN said they were going to film and air it.

The final table I made was in the $10,000 world championship mixed event, which included no-limit hold’em. Down to 15 players, my dad got all in with pocket queens against A-Q, and an ace was out, making him around a 3-to-1 favorite. Had he won that hand, he would have been the chip leader, and been with me at the final table for sure.

The final table that my dad made was in the $10,000 stud eight-or-better event. We were down to around 22 players when I looked down at rolled-up fives. Most eight-or-better players will tell you that this is the best starting hand possible in this game, as it blocks most small straights.

So, Justin Smith brought it in with a trey, and my dad raised with a 7. I just called, to try to build a big pot. Yan Chen had split kings and reraised. Justin and my dad called, and so did I.

On the turn, Justin hit a 4 to go with his 3, my dad broke off (hit a big card), and so did I. Chen checked, Justin bet, my dad folded, I called, and Chen raised. Justin reraised, I called, and Chen called.

On fifth street, Justin made open treys and Chen made kings up, which was perfect for me. Justin bet out, and I just called with my weak board of 5-Q-8. Chen went into the tank for close to a minute. I know that he wanted to raise so badly, but to his credit, he smelled my trap and just called.

Sixth street is another great street, as Justin makes three open treys and bets out. Now, I spring my trap and raise, shutting out Chen and making my hand obvious.

This pot was so big by this time that a show dog couldn’t jump over it, and I’m more than a 4-1 favorite to win at least half (and around 2-1 to scoop). When I don’t improve and Justin bets out on the end, I’m not overly concerned, as he’s as likely to have a low as he is a high. But, I wasn’t that fortunate, as he showed me threes full of deuces. He had 6-2 in the hole, needing one of my fives to complete his straight. Nice hand, boosted J!

This hand left me crippled, and a few hands later I had a wheel draw on fourth street and got all in. By sixth street, I had nothing, and my opponent showed kings. My hand was A-2-4-5-9-J, and my last card was a no-spotter with a spot in the middle (that’s an ace or a 3 for you non-sweaters). A 3 would give me a wheel, and an ace, a pair of aces. It was an ace, but my opponent made two pair, of course. Unfortunately, that was our last chance to be the first father and son to make a final table together in the WSOP, as Rod Pardey and his son Eric accomplished it in the $1,500 stud event shortly thereafter. Congrats, Pardeys.

I drove home mad enough to strangle a nun, only to find that I had to park a block away from my house. When I got out of my car, I could hear 50 drunken Russians singing their loyalty to Putin or Stalin or the czar, or who the hell knows. The point is, I could hear them a block away and they took up all the parking in the neighborhood. As I got to my house, I realized this drunken riot was taking place in my own freakin’ home! My head felt like it was going to explode, and it took me 30 minutes to find my wife and ask her what was going on. It turned out that some Ruskie had just won a bracelet.

I started to throw them out, but then figured, if I can’t beat them … So, I grabbed a bottle of vodka and learned a few Russian songs.