Venice — Part III

When I left off in my last column, I had just bubbled in the Venice $2,000 H.O.R.S.E. event. I still had one more chance to redeem myself in the main event, but the problem there was that I had been blinded off for about eight hours. Luckily, the tournament was structured pretty well, and I still had about two-thirds of my chips.

I tried to steal a few blinds, but figured out right away that it wasn’t going to work. The Italians have a lot of good traits, but patience is not one of them. Gus Hansen actually refuses to play in Italy. He can’t stand being the tightest player at the table.

I decided to buckle down and wait for a hand, knowing that I was going to get action when I did. I didn’t have to wait long, as I picked up aces in less than an hour. Sure enough, I got plenty of action, all in preflop. Actually, he was all in, as I had a few thousand left.

It turns out that my opponent had pocket kings, which was much better than I had given him credit for having. He was smiling and high-fiving his friends, even after I turned over my hand. Didn’t this guy understand that aces beat kings? Or, maybe he just knew that a king was coming on fourth street.

I was still pondering this a few minutes later when he was eliminated. I think he was smiling and high-fiving during his final hand when he was drawing dead. This guy was either the happiest person on Earth or had been in the janitor’s closet sniffing glue.
Anyway, I was badly crippled after my aces got cracked. Had I been a horse, I’d have been on my way to the Elmer’s factory. I was disappointed, but not about to give up. I limped along until the final hour, and got all in twice with a big pair against a smaller pair. They both held up, and I was close to average in chips.

With less than a minute left, I already had counted down my chips and was looking for the bags, when the final hand was dealt. Some goofball who was under the gun mumbled something in Italian about raising the pot no matter what, and he did so. The next player made a substantial reraise, and I looked down at big slick suited.

Hmm. Was the second player trying to isolate on the guy playing wildly, or did he have a real hand? I studied for a minute, and they both seemed very uncomfortable, so I shipped in my stack. I was correct, as they both would quickly fold, but before they did, the Todd Brunson syndrome occurred. If you’re not familiar with what it is, I’ll explain: It’s when you make a good read or get all in against a player and you have the best hand, but someone wakes up behind you with a big hand that has you beat. There’s no defense against it, and it knocks me out of probably half of the tournaments I play in; hence, its name.

Fortunately, this one wasn’t too bad. The other guy had queens, making me almost even money when I was getting laid almost 2-1 (the other two jokers left a lot of dead money in the pot). Winning this hand would put me among the chip leaders.

I didn’t make a pair on the flop, but with two of my suit on it, I turned the tables on my opponent, becoming about a 54 percent favorite (about the same that he was preflop). The turn gave me a pair and reduced his outs to one (barely over 2 percent), and he somehow didn’t hit it.

I had been down to less than 10 percent of my starting stack and had fought my way back up to third place in chips by day’s end. This was a performance I was very proud of. I easily could have given up many times and called my short stack all in with A-J, pocket sevens, or pocket fives, but I hung tough and threw away all of those hands.

We had lost almost 60 percent of the field, which is very significant in a three-day tournament, but we still had a long way to go. I wanted to join the boys for a few celebratory drinks, but for one thing, I hadn’t actually won anything yet, and for another, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m freakin’ 40 and need my beauty sleep to be at my best.

There was a water taxi taking a group of eight or 10 players back to my hotel, so I decided to hitch a free ride. But Max Pescatori had a different idea, as he suggested that the player with the most chips pick up the taxi fare. I was going to try to lie about how many chips I had, but there had been some chatter about the good-looking American guy being one of the chip leaders, so I had to fess up (I guess I’ll fess up about the good-looking part now, too).

I paid the taxi fare, but Max felt bad about making me pay it, so he gave me half of it. That made me sleep a little better, I guess. The next day, I showed up ready for battle; 170 down, 136 to go …

Todd Brunson has been a professional poker player for more than 20 years. While primarily a cash-game player, he still has managed to win 18 major tournaments, for more than $3.5 million. He has won one bracelet and cashed 25 times at the World Series of Poker. You can play with Todd online at DoylesRoom.com or live at his tournament, The Todd Brunson Montana Poker Challenge, in Big Fork, Montana. Check his website, ToddBrunson.com, for details.