World Poker Tour in Paris - Part III

As promised, in this issue I'm going to share with you a crucial hand that had a lot to do with deciding the outcome of the tournament. We came into day three with 18 players remaining, and we'd play down to the final six, who would return on day four for the taping of the first episode of the WPT's second season.

Coming into day two I had a massive chip lead with $170,700, while my nearest competitor had just a bit more than $100,000. I was able to maintain that lead throughout the day, all the way down to the final table of nine players. By that point, my stack had increased to a little more than $230,000, which represented close to 25 percent of the total chips in play.

So, with just nine of us remaining, it figured to be a short day, as we'd likely be down to six in just a couple of hours. Players No. 9 and No. 8 were gone within the first 30 minutes or so. "Great," I thought. "This will give me all the time I need to relax and prepare for the final day." Just moments after player No. 8 was eliminated, George Paravoliasakis (more widely referred to as George "The Greek," for obvious reasons) looked destined to be the seventh-place finisher. All in with one card to come, George needed the river to be a 9 to stay alive and lengthen our day. I was already making dinner plans when off came the 9. "No worries, this will give me an opportunity to strengthen my chip lead," I thought. At that point, I was up to around $310,000 in chips, which was more than comfortable, to say the least.

The blinds were relatively small at $1,500-$3,000 with a $400 ante. After more than two hours of play sevenhanded, I noticed that the blinds and antes had remained the same. Normally, this would be a welcome error, but considering my chip position, it had to be deemed a disadvantage to me at that point. I was then informed that it wasn't an error, that in fact the blinds would not go up at all until someone was eliminated. I didn't like what I heard at all. Since the blinds would not increase, my opponents weren't under any real time pressure, which is a common characteristic of tournament play and a significant advantage to the chip leader. At the same time, I enjoy playing no-limit hold'em when the stacks are deep in relation to the blinds, so I couldn't complain too much.

Hours went by, and still no one was eliminated: Lee Salem all in against David Benyamine with 4-4 vs. Q-Q … 4 on the river; Erick Lindgren all in against George "The Greek," and George folds the best hand on the flop. It was grueling. Every one of the remaining seven players was playing his A game. Then, about five hours into final table play, "the hand" came up. So, without further adieu, here it is:

Blinds: $1,500-$3,000

Antes: $400

My stack: $250,000 (the chip leader)

David Benyamine's stack: $174,600

I was in middle position with the 7 4 and made it $9,000 to go. The table had been playing relatively tight to this point, so I thought this would be a good opportunity to pick up the blinds, or maybe get lucky and flop a big hand.

David looked down at his holecards from the big blind, and finally decided to reraise me. "Oh, well," I thought, "let's move on to the next hand." Then I realized that David was reraising me just $15,000 more! Hmm. I had played with David quite a bit leading up to this table, and felt I was picking up a line on his play. His raise screamed 10-10 or J-J to me. Based on a tell I'd picked up, I virtually ruled out the possibility that he held A-A, K-K, or A-K. Of course, I could have been wrong, but my instincts had been sharp all day long, so I put a lot of stock into this read. So, if I read him for 10-10 or J-J, why in the world would I want to call his raise with 7 high?

In a nutshell, I would never call the raise simply hoping that I would make a flush, straight, trips, or two pair. No, I was willing to play the hand, because if the flop came with an ace, king, or queen, I believed I'd win the pot, as well. Huh? Confused yet? Remember now, my read dictated that David held a middle pair. If the board came with one or two overcards to his pair, he would be hard-pressed to call me if I bet the flop or raised him. That was my plan. If there was an ace, king, or queen out there, I was going to take this pot away from David. Since I had position, I'd get to see David's reaction to the flop first. Again, based on my read of David's play, I also knew that he would often underbet the pot whether he flopped a big hand or was bluffing. It's a play that works well for him, but in this situation, I was looking to exploit it. So, I called the raise.

The flop came 7 6 2. Hmm … not the flop I was looking for. Sure, I had flopped top pair, but I would have preferred a flop like A-K-2, in which case I would have had no pair! Huh? Well, I didn't think the sevens were good. As I said, I played this hand with the intent of taking him off a middle pair, or out-flopping him. Since all I had flopped was one pair, and there were no overcards to a middle pair, I wasn't about to make a play at this pot on the flop.

There was $52,300 in the pot. If David bet $30,000 to $40,000, I was going to be done with the hand. However, David chose to bet just $20,000! Hmm. I still had him on 10-10 or J-J, and I still believed I could win this pot if an ace, king, or queen fell. If I happened to change my mind on the turn, I might even be able to get a free card and hit a 7 or a 4, provided he checked it.

Of course, there was also an outside chance that my pair of sevens was good against perhaps an A-K, but I wasn't banking on that. Getting 3.5-to-1 odds on the flop, I decided to call.

The turn card was the 4, giving me two pair, but also putting a dangerous flush card out there. David checked. That confirmed for me that had I not made the two pair on the turn, I would have been able to get that free card. After all, if the turn card was the 3, for example, I would have checked behind David.

Now, I decided not to mess around. I wanted to make a big bet and win the pot right there. After all, if he had an overpair with a heart, I'd only be a 7-to-4 favorite. I went ahead and bet $60,000. When I made the bet, I actually misread David's chip count. At a glance, I thought he had about $80,000 to $90,000 left, so by betting $60,000, he'd know I was committed to the hand. In essence, it would have been the same as moving all in.

When David said, "All in," I realized he had more than the $80,000 to $90,000 I thought he had. He in fact had enough to raise me $70,600 more! If I had taken a closer look at his stock, I would have bet more like $100,000 or just moved all in. I wouldn't want David to think a check-raise might get me to lay down my hand. I wanted him to know I was committed to going all in, thus putting the decision to him, not me.

Nevertheless, here was my chance to put a chokehold on the tournament. If I called and won, I'd have close to half the chips in play. If I called and lost, I'd lose my chip lead but still would have a fighting chance, with just below the average amount of chips. "Well, David, I hope all you have is aces with the A," I said, to which he looked distraught. When I called, he actually said, "You got me," which was encouraging, but of course I was still pretty certain that he had several outs. He turned over two red tens.

So, ironically, with one card to come, my sevens and fours were a 7-to-4 favorite to win this pot! If I could fade a heart, deuce, 6, or 10, I'd have a little more than $420,000 in chips. Well, the river was a 10 and I was now back in the pack, and would have to regroup.

From there, I lost a key pot to George when I had the best hand in a coin flip, and then was finally eliminated shortly after that in another coin flip. This time, I was the one with A-K, and Jan Boubli's 8-8 held up.

I felt surprisingly upbeat. Initially, it felt as though I had just gotten punched in the stomach. Then, I tried to think of things in a positive light. "Sure, I really could have used the money, but I'm in Paris, for God's sake! I'm in the most romantic city in the world with my girlfriend; it's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Things could be worse," I thought, "much worse."

As my girlfriend and I walked through the Aviation Club, I couldn't help but hear all the talk.

"Did you see Daniel blow all those chips?"

"What was he doing in there with 7-4?"

"He didn't even need to play a hand and could have made that final table!"

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that I was the one who got all of his chips in as the underdog, after hearing all the banter! That's what people do, I guess. That's what makes the WPT so much fun. You can be an armchair quarterback without taking the hits.

I do however understand some of the criticisms: "It just didn't seem like you needed to get involved at all. You had enough chips to stay away from adversity." Yes, that's true to some extent. Of course, we were sevenhanded for well over five hours, so had I "stayed out of trouble," as they said, chances were that my stack would have dwindled. Also, even after losing that key pot that propelled David to his victory (congratulations, David), I was still in there with a fighting chance.

All in all, if I had to do things over again, I would … well, I wouldn't change a thing. This tournament brought back memories from the 2001 World Series of Poker championship, where I finished 11th despite having the chip lead with 12 remaining. After that tournament, my friend Jack Fox sent me a quote that really cheered me up, and I'd like to share it with you:

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."

Theodore Roosevelt

(Paris, Sorbonne, 1910)

Daniel can be reached through his website: www.fullcontactpoker.com.