Showdown at the Sands - Part II

I got a great night's sleep, was fully recovered from the mental anguish attached to losing half of my stack late on day one, and was ready to make a run on day two. Right off the bat, within the first round of play, I was climbing – 50K, 60K, 70K – just like clockwork. If I had had headphones on, I would have been listening to that old favorite, "Cruisin' … on a Sunday afternoon."

I had only one hand come up in which I was in some jeopardy. I raised it from first position with the A K, Men "The Master" Nguyen called my raise with 8-8, the small blind called, and it was up to Rafe Furst. Rafe didn't have a lot of chips at this point, and I felt in my bones that he was waiting for an opportunity to pick up some chips with a bluff. Before he even looked at his cards, I felt that if he had any sort of a hand here, he might try to steal it by moving all in, figuring Men couldn't call, and neither could the small blind. His only obstacle would be me, and since I'd been raising so many pots, there was a decent chance that I had nothing yet again. It was a very well-conceived plan, but I was in his head at that moment.

Boom! Here he came for all of his chips. I also moved all in behind him, just in case Men was considering calling with his 8-8. Of course, Men mucked, and it was show time. Now, Rafe didn't really want to show his cards, and I knew that was usually a good sign. I was expecting to see him show me an A-7 or some ace-rag in that area, or possibly even a small pair like 4-4.

Nope, it was worse than that. Rafe turned over 9-5 offsuit, shrugging his shoulders as if to be saying, "Oops, bad timing, I guess." Of course, the hand was far from over; A-K is no cinch against a 9-5. The flop came down A-8-5. "9-5 offsuit," Men said. "Gosh, man, I flop a set! You lucky, Daniel. I bust you this hand." Bust me, he would have. Had Rafe not made that play, I would have lost a sizeable pot to Men's three eights.

The turn and river where no help, and I escaped doom. "Must be my lucky day," I thought.

Let's fast-forward a little bit to when we were down to the final two tables. FoxSportsNet was covering the entire event from start to finish. They had one TV table, which was randomly drawn, and this was my first opportunity to play with my cards being exposed (except for a brief stint on Late Night Poker). In this tournament, though, there was an added twist. They hooked the players up to heart monitors to track their heart rate when in a pot. I thought it was a very interesting idea. What does happen to your heart rate when you are bluffing? Interesting.

So, I was all hooked up to a million different wires: a microphone pack in my pocket connected to a little mike around my collar, a little pack around my waist with the heart monitor, and about 300 or so wires coming out of everywhere. I seriously thought I was plugged into the matrix. Plus, I had sticky things attached to my chest; it was just weird. The sacrifices we poker players make (sigh).

OK, let's get back to the action. I've got my boy, Mike "Motor Mouth" Matusow, to my left. If you've met Mike for even five minutes, you understand completely where his nickname comes from; it's well-deserving, to say the least. I've actually written about Mike in the past: Remember the guy who threw his computer into his swimming pool because he took a bad beat playing online poker? Yep, that was Mikey, all right – always calm, always rational.

Anyway, I was the chip leader at this point with about $240,000, but Mike was second with about $150,000. The blinds at this point were $1,500-$3,000 with a $500 ante. There were about 15 players left at this point, but only the final nine would receive a payday.

I'd been playing pretty fast and loose and sensed that Mikey was going to try to put a stop to that sooner or later. Everyone folded to me on the button, and I looked down to see the 9 7. Usually, I'd raise with this kind of hand in this spot, but I felt that Mikey wanted to defend his blind and would likely come over the top of me (reraise me) regardless of his holding.

I still wanted to see a flop, and decided to get a little tricky. I limped in. The small blind also limped in, and it was up to Mikey. I could see the wheels turning in his head: "Danny's got nothin', I'm gonna pick this pot up right here." I could see it in his eyes (even though he was wearing sunglasses), his nose, his body language. Everything about it told me Mikey had nothing himself, but he couldn't help himself. Mikey loves dead money, and this was his chance to steal some.

It's so funny to me, because I remember it like it just happened. I was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mike didn't have a big pair. In fact, I was certain that he didn't even have a legitimate hand. So, anyway, here came Mikey; he raised it $16,000 more. I literally beat him into the pot. Then, another funny moment occurred: He stared at me with a look of, "Oh, no; what are you doing, Daniel? Leave me alone!" Priceless. He was like a deer caught in the headlights!

OK, that's enough bashin' of my boy. The small blind folded and we took the flop heads up: 9 4 3. This flop gave me top pair, and since I was certain Mike didn't have a big pair, I was pretty confident I had the best hand. Mike bet $23,000.

Now, I didn't see this until the show aired, but Mikey's heart rate skyrocketed to stroke levels! He loves his chicken wings and his chili cheese dogs, I understand, but he needs to give his heart a break. My heart rate jumped, too, after the flop. My resting heart rate was right around 65 to 75 during most of the tournament. The guys in the back called me "The Ice King." I just loved that nickname, very cool.

However, the decision I had to make had my heart rate up over 100. As I said, I was pretty sure I had the best hand. The dilemma I faced was whether I should raise now or see what developed on the turn. I decided that giving Mike a free card here was too risky, so I raised. I looked at Mike's chips and figured he had about $100,000 left after his $23,000 bet.

I guess I could have said, "All in," but that's just not my style. Raising $100,000 is essentially the same thing. If he had a few extra chips, I'd obviously be forced to call. So, that's what I did: "Raise it, $100,000 more."

Mike instantaneously said, "I'm all in," and followed that up with a funky Stevie Wonder move I'd never seen before. Seriously, if you have it on tape, go back and watch it in slow motion. Jesse May, the commentator, actually alluded to the Stevie Wonder move as they went to a commercial break.

On Christmas, my mother and I invited several people over and we watched that one shot over and over again. It was just flat-out hilarious!

Anyway, let's get back to the action. I was feeling pretty stupid. I was playing the biggest pot of the tournament, and I had … 9-7! How did that happen? Obviously, my read on Mikey must have been totally wrong; maybe he had an overpair or flopped a set. Just to make sure we had the pot right, I wanted to see if I was getting a refund on my $100,000 bet – or worse, owed even more. As it turned out, I had to call an additional $15,000, which was an automatic call.

Then, Mike asked me, "What do you have?"

"What do you have? I called you!" I replied.

"Nines."

"Uh-oh, I'm dead. What's your kicker?"

"No kicker."

"Me, either."

Finally, Mike turned over his kicker. It was a 7! It was a miracle for me. The only kicker I could beat was a deuce, 5, or 6. I laughed out loud and showed my hand, as well. Both Mike and I jumped out of our chairs and high-fived each other. I think we were both equally ecstatic with the outcome. I was really rooting for Mike in the tournament, and I'm sure he was rooting for me, but at the poker table, business is business. However, a soft spot in my heart made me feel like this was the best result possible. Neither of us was eliminated, and we still had a shot to finish the tournament 1-2.

Of course, that didn't stop me from needling him well after the hand was over. After much discussion about the play of the hand, I finally summed it up: "Mike, you are a donkey!"

It was all in good fun, obviously, and the hand ended up making for some pretty good TV. Going into the final day, I was second in chips with $357,000 to Paul Wolfe, who was dominating the other table and had built his stack to $378,000. Mike was also sitting pretty in third place with $285,000.

Be sure to check out my next column to find out how Mike and I fared at the final table.

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