I Should Have Won the U.S. Poker Championship

Here we go again! Once again I have a ton of chips ($512,000) in the championship event of Taj Mahal's U.S. Poker Championship; this time it's 2003. There's major déjà vu here, because I had more than 50 percent of the chips in 1997 with three players left, but couldn't close the deal against Ken "Skyhawk" Flaton and Surinder Sunar.

In fact, in 1997 with $900,000 in chips in play, we had Skyhawk down to $17,000 and all in with 10-8 against my A-2. Skyhawk ended up winning that small pot, and then he came all the way back to win the tournament.

Now, in 2003, I'm at full power ("full power" is the phrase I use to describe my "A" game to the boys), and ready to win this thing. With Toto Leonidas in seat No. 1, Erik Seidel in seat No. 2, and me in seat No. 3, it's feeling eerily similar to the $3,000 World Series of Poker no-limit hold'em event in May, in which Erik was in seat No. 2 and I was in seat No. 3. I won that one!

With five players left, Toto opens for $35,000 from up front, and I decide to make it $95,000 more, or $130,000 total, with my A-K. Toto studies awhile, and then moves all in for $355,000 more. Immediately, I eliminate A-Q and A-J from the possible hands he could have. I decide there is no way Toto would risk going out in fifth place with a weak hand, so I fold my A-K.

I fold it faceup, and Toto says, "Phew," as he shows me A-Q. I am stunned that he would risk going out in fifth place with one of the worst no-limit hands out there. I mutter to myself, "What is this guy doing?" Then, I remember some of the very weak hands he has played against me in the past. He is a maniac player ("maniac" means someone who moves in weak a lot; being a maniac isn't a bad thing lots of times), and I had forgotten that – my mistake.

Still, I don't mind this laydown, because I know Toto will give me all of his chips in the next hour or two when making another reckless play. One hour later, we are threehanded when Toto opens for $55,000 from the button. I look down at Q-Q in the big blind, and decide very quickly to just call. A quick call shows that I'm trying to pretend I'm strong; I'm selling weakness here.

Perhaps I should have raised him right here, right now, and maybe he moves all in on me with his Q-J offsuit and I bust him; this is the kind of 20/20 hindsight we use when we lose a key pot! In any case, the flop comes down 8 7 2, and I check. Toto bets $70,000, and I put him on a very weak hand: In my mind, he has K-J offsuit. So, I just call the $70,000.

Lots of players would have raised Toto here, but I had a sense that Toto was ready to give me all of his chips with nothing, so I just called him. Now, the problem card hits on the turn – a king. I check, Toto studies for a long time, and then bets $200,000. It has happened just like I knew it would. Toto cannot let go of a hand, and now I get to bust him. He has Q-J and I have Q-Q; it's over for Toto!

However, I keep thinking of the K-J hand that I put him on in my mind. If he does have a king, I'm dead. I pride myself on making great reads. I have been making great reads throughout the three-day tournament, but now I have to study awhile. I have a sense of dread that I'm supposed to call, but on the other hand I feel that Toto will give me all of his chips in a better situation soon, if I just wait for it. I fold!

Looking back, I know Toto would bet any pair, including 5-5, 6-6, 7-7, 8-8, 9-9, 10-10, and J-J. I fold faceup, showing Q-Q, and Toto shows me Q-J offsuit. "OK," I tell myself, "it's 100 percent that Toto will give me his chips if I just hang in there and remain strong emotionally. Don't start fretting about a bad laydown. Just wait, and Toto will move all in weak one more time."

Thirty minutes later I'm still in there, and lord help them if I get my chips doubled up, because now I have both their plays dialed in. I'm locked, loaded, and ready to fire. Now, Toto opens from the button for $55,000 and I call him with Q-J offsuit in the big blind. The flop is Q-8-7, and I check. Toto shuffles his chips, makes lots of awkward motions, and finally says, "I'm all in."

What? There is only $120,000 in the pot, and he has bet my last $236,000. What the heck is going on here? I know Toto, and I consider all the possibilities: He might have K-Q (this is the only hand I'm worried about). Toto never bets big with his big hands; he always tries to milk them. Thus, he can't have a big pair, A-Q, or even K-Q; in my mind, he must have A-8.

Toto is starting to look very, very weak as I study him. I think he knows that I have a queen by now, and I think he knows I'm going to call him. He looks like a man who wishes he could take his money back, but now he is committed. Finally, I say, "I call," and push all of my chips into the middle of the pot. This is the first time in the entire tournament that I am all in, which is remarkable, and a real source of pride for me.

The crowd cheers wildly as I call, and Toto flips up A-7! I smile and think, "Nice call, Phil; it looks like Toto will be short on chips if he loses this pot." Now, the cameras are adjusted, the hands are announced to the standing-room-only crowd, and the turn card is dealt; it's a 6. OK, the last card is a mere formality now. No way is Toto hitting an ace or a 7 here; I'm an 8-to-1 favorite at this point.

However, incredibly, the last card is a 7, and the final evidence that I lost the hand is hearing Toto screaming very loudly, "Yes!" As he is pumping his fists in triumph, I think to myself, "You're actually proud of that garbage play?" Immediately, I find myself falling backward like someone punched me. I take four steps back and literally flop on my backside – on the payoff stage – and lie there motionless staring up at nothing, muttering to myself.

I guess it will make for very good, dramatic TV! In any case, I can't console myself. I walk around muttering to myself while they call me to the stage to pay me my $116,000 for third place. I'm feeling like I just lost $272,000 (first place was $388,000). I stew, I mutter, I cannot believe Toto got away with it! I'm mad, I'm sad, and I'm inconsolable for a while. Finally, after making a dramatic jackass of myself, I gather myself and try to recover what little dignity I have left.

Do I deserve to lose to a guy who tried to give me all of his chips three times? What does deserving have to do with it, anyway? For that matter, do I deserve to have the ability to make any final table in any tournament on any given day?

I begin to feel guilty that I'm so upset and acting badly, when deep down inside I know I'm as blessed as anyone. Later that night I finally realize that I am truly blessed – period. It is OK to get bummed out, but I need to control myself much better when I get unlucky in a big hand!

I like Toto (he's a very nice guy) and Erik (he's been a great guy for 15 years); congrats to them both. Besides, so what if Toto hit a card on me; I should have called him with my Q-Q and had more than one million in chips. If I had made that great call, I believe I would have won. That Q-Q is just another hand I'll torture myself over for the next 10 years …

I hope you enjoyed this Hand of the Week. Good luck playing your hands this week.

Editor's note: Phil's book, Play Poker Like the Pros, is available through Card Player. Visit philhellmuth.com, where you can learn more about Phil and read more Hand of the Week columns. And play poker with Phil or chat with him at UltimateBet.com's low-stakes tables.