The 2009 Main Event: Day 2

Day one of the World Series of Poker main event went pretty well for me, and with a good table draw on day 2, it looked like my luck might continue rolling like a frat kid at a Vegas nightclub. (If you don’t get the reference, ask someone under 40.) I didn’t know anyone at my table again, and a few of these guys looked like they just escaped from Bellevue, or came from a homeless shelter or a really cool Hollywood party.

I tried stealing the blinds a few times, but I think these guys thought they were in some kind of a lottery and had to be present with their cards to win. This was gonna be showdown poker, which was kind of disappointing. I’d much rather play real poker and dance a little, but if that’s how it was gonna be, I would quickly downshift and wait for some kind of a hand.

The first one I decided to try my luck with was the 6 5. The homeless, bipolar partygoer to my right made a standard raise from middle position, and I called. We picked up a few passengers, but they all dropped with his pot-sized bet on the flop of A-7-2, all hearts.

I considered a raise here, but inasmuch as we both were deep, I decided to see another street and make sure that another heart didn’t come before I made my move. The turn brought a very interesting card — an ace, pairing the board.
This guy fired out a full pot-sized bet, and this put me in a quandary.

I was sure that I had the best hand here. I also was pretty sure that he was committed to his hand, from his big bets and his body language. We both still were very deep, so since I had position on him, I decided to just call. This is where position is everything. He’ll have to act first on the end, and I can act accordingly if a card that I like (or don’t like) comes off.

I call and hold my breath. I don’t want to see another heart or a big card that might connect with his three aces, and I sure as heck don’t want to see another ace or the board pair. But if that did happen, at least I just called the turn and could save my remaining chips by folding.

The river brought an offsuit 3, which looked perfect to me. To my surprise, my opponent bet out the full pot again! Now, if I raised, I’d be all in. The ESPN cameras came rushing over, hoping for my demise; could they be right? Hmm.

I really thought I had flopped the best hand, and the turn had been where he really started liking his hand. I had put him on an ace with a big kicker (which may have been a heart), but he may have flopped a set, and made a full boat on the turn. But that’s not what I felt. I really felt that I had him going to the river, but how could an offsuit 3 have helped his hand with this board?

I decided to go with my gut here and just call. Sure enough, he showed me the A 3 for a boat. He had hit runner-runner to beat my made flush on the flop — only a 34-1 beat to start my day; not too bad. I was hoping for a chance to get some of my chips back from him, but they broke my table and I’m sure that he was back at Studio 54 or the nuthouse by nightfall. A few more beats like that, and the orderlies could save a trip and take me back with him.

My new table was a little tougher, but that was OK with me. I never did fare too well against the mentally challenged. And speaking of the mentally challenged, Brad Garrett was at my table, which was great for four reasons: One, he’s funny as hell, and was going to be very entertaining. Two, ESPN loves all celebs, and since I was at his table (and we had a running Jew vs. redneck thing going), I was sure to get a little extra coverage. Three, I actually might get the free tickets to his show that he’s been promising me for years. And four? He’s just not that good at poker yet. (Sorry, Brad.)

Brad did manage to dump off about half of his chips before hitting a few nice hands. At about this time, the guy on my left began one of the most unreal rushes I’ve ever seen over the next few hours. He kept flopping nothing, and somehow managed to either bluff or take a card off and turn some kind of draw, which he then always made.

I was actually trying to stay out of his way (at least in big pots), unless I had a big hand. That’s why I limped in from third or fourth position with pocket nines. I got about as good a flop as possible without the board being paired, 9-5-2 rainbow. With seven players behind me, I went for the check-raise, which didn’t work.

That seemed OK, as the turn brought an offsuit king, which couldn’t have hurt. I fired out 100 percent of the pot, and the spook called, scaring off all of my other customers. The river also looked pretty harmless, a 10. I again fired out the whole pot (7,000), and spooky insta-raised me 8,000. I had only 8,000 or 9,000 more than that, so I quickly moved in without thinking much about it.

I mean, this guy surely either flopped a set along with me and was slow-playing, turned kings up and was slow-playing, or made top two pair (kings and tens). Why would he call a pot-sized bet with just a gutshot and only one card to come when I was a real short stack? That would take a special kind of stupid, wouldn’t it? Well, as Forrest Gump’s mama always said, “Stupid is as stupid does,” and I was out the stupid door of the 2009 main event.