WSOP 2005 Day 5 part 1
I began day 5 by shaving, for the first time since I arrived in Vegas. With 36 or so players left in the $1500 LHE event, and with me being one of them, I had to at least acknowledge the possibility that I could end up at the final table. That being said, I didn't go out of my way to dress up for the occasion. A Wilco t-shirt, a ratty old fleece, and an ancient ballcap guaranteed my comfort, which was the most important thing, so that's what I went with.
Bob was, amazingly, still alive in this event as well. I say 'amazingly' not because I don't think he's a good player (quite the opposite), but because I thought it was pretty incredible that two members of Team Canuck Poker were still alive this deep into this tournament, regardless of (or maybe in spite of) the fact that I was one of them.
Dave and Ralph had decided not to play poker on their last non-travel day in Vegas, choosing instead to watch me and Bob make a run for the final table. This is significant. There was a $500 multi table NLHE freezeout at the Palms that afternoon. The field was probably big, and probably just as weak as it was the last time we played at the Palms. As a poker player, I can fully appreciate how hard it is to walk away from a juicy game like that, and I was kinda touched. I've said it before and I'll say it again: having Dave, Bob, and Ralph there cheering me on made a HUGE difference. After certain hands, I'd get up and tell them what I had. After certain other hands, I'd get up and one of them would give me advice on overall strategy, from their objective points of view. Very helpful.
Bob had the beaver. Bob and I were never at the same table throughout this entire tournament, which -- after having played him in the Palms sit and go -- I was glad for.
I did have some tough players at my table, though. I started Day 2 of the tournament with Annie, David Chiu, David Oppenheim, and Peter Costa all at my table. I also started the day with zero chips. The bags from the night before were handed out by the dealer, and I didn't get one. He was the most unhelpful dealer in the world, remaining completely bored and mostly silent in the face of my increasingly panicked questions about my missing chips. I wasn't just missing the chips, I was missing the bag they came in... everything. I finally tracked down a floorperson, and he tracked down my chips, which had mistakenly been delivered to the wrong table.
I chatted for a bit with David Oppenheim. I didn't recognize him, to be honest, but he had a Full Tilt jacket on with his last name on it, so I figured he was somebody. For those who don't know, he doesn't play a lot of tournaments, which is why he isn't "famous". He crushes high-limit cash games. I said: "So, basically, you have a ton of cash, but you don't have to put up with people hounding you for pictures and autographs all the time." He said that yeah, that was pretty much it. I told him that's how I'd want it to be if I ever got rich from poker, and he said that it's pretty nice. I asked him if he was going to play Negreanu heads-up at Wynn's. He replied that he'd already done so a night or two before, for 200K, in limit hold'em. He won. I again thanked my lucky stars that he was shortstacked.
Overall, he was extremely nice to me, but because he was low on chips his mood in general wasn't the greatest. Of course, right after he lost a pot, some numbskull at our table picked that EXACT moment to ask him why he never got the $50 bonus he was promised at Full Tilt Poker. David, God love him, got right into the conversation. If there's one thing these Full Tilt guys wanted to get during the WSOP, it was good press. So he asked the guy for all of his details, wrote down his name and username, and promised to resolve the situation himself. I know, I know, it's easy to be nice when you're representing a company that REQUIRES you to be nice, but I still thought that was pretty cool of him.
From here to the final table, it's a blur. I remember hands, so I'll share some of them with you. I know that both of the David's at my table busted out, and I know that the tables broke down to three at about that point. That was the last I saw of Annie... she busted out at another table shortly after. Unfortunately, Bob busted out somewhere around here as well. He came over and gave me the beaver (probably the biggest and coolest card marker in the history of card markers). I now had a very goofy looking warrior guarding my stack. A tournament director guy came over to me at one point and said: "I'm sorry sir, one player to a hand". I hadn't said anything before that, so I was confused for a second, and then I realized he was talking about the beaver.
I stroked the beaver for luck many, many times on my way to the final table.
At one point, I was the chip leader with 2 or 3 tables left. I was BUZZING. Bouncing off imaginary walls. Raise, reraise, rereraise. Fortunately for me, I didn't run into any big hands during those two minutes or so when my adrenaline fully and completely took over. I glanced over at Dave, proud of my fast play and my chip lead, and he gave me the signal to slow down. I was taken aback. Slow down?!?! I want to speed up speed up speed up speed up.... And that's when I realized: holy shit, he's right. I'm going a mile a minute here inside my head, and in these hands. If I keep going like this, I will get clobbered by a big hand. I got up and talked to Dave, and that's pretty much what he told me. He said that he knew how I was feeling, and that if it was him in that spot -- 2 or 3 tables to go and the chip lead -- his adrenaline would be through the roof and fighting him for control. He said that he would meditate at the table in this spot. I don't know much about meditation, but I took some deep breaths, folded my cards for an orbit or two, and waited for the rush to die down a bit, which it eventually did.
I promise you, I would have self-destructed at this point if not for our chat. Too much adrenaline is a very dangerous thing at a poker table, particularly when you're playing with people who have been there before, and know how to take advantage of you.
From that point on, all the up to the final table, I was calm. Very relaxed, cool as a cucumber. The tables got shorthanded, obviously, but that was fine with me. I'd played a ton of 5-handed $25/$50 limit hold'em at PokerRoom before, and I could get through this.
Some hands that happened when there were 2 or 3 tables left:
A player who I perceived as weak, tight, and frustrated raised in EP. I 3-bet him with KTo. We saw a rag flop, he checked, I bet, he folded.
Folded to the SB who limped, I checked the BB with Qc3c. The flop came something like Kc Jc 2d. He checked, I bet, and he called. The turn was the 9h. Check, bet, call. The river was the Ad. Again, he checked, I bet, and he called. He showed me J6 suited or something, and took it down with his pair of jacks.
A player who was relatively shortstacked raised in EP. I called from the BB with 8dTd. The flop came K8x rainbow. I checked, he bet, I raised, he called. (WARNING WARNING what's he calling with besides a hand that beats me!!!) The turn was a brick of some sort, check check. The river was another brick, I checked, he bet, and I paid him off. He had pocket kings.
A player raised in EP and it put him all-in. I 3-bet from MP with AdTd to isolate him. He had AK I think. The flop had one diamond in it. The turn was a diamond that gave me a gutshot. The river was a diamond that gave me the flush, and the winning hand.
An EP player raised, I 3-bet with QQ, and he folded without seeing the flop.
The very next hand, the same guy raised, I 3-bet him with TT, and he folded without seeing the flop.
A hand vs. Peter Costa: I raised in MP with JTo, and he called from the BB. The flop was AT6 or something. He checked, I bet, he called. The turn was a nine, I think. Check check. The river paired the ace. He checked, I bet, he called, my hand was good.
I raised in MP with Ah9h, and got two callers. The flop came 9Tx with one heart. Checked to me, I bet, both called. The turn was the 7h. Checked to me, I bet, both called. MASSIVE pot, when you factor in the size of the bets, the size of the stacks, and you compare it to the size of most of the other pots. The river was the beautiful Jh, putting an easy straight on the board, but giving me my flush. First guy checked, Peter Costa bet. I then became amateur hour. I checked my cards, said "That is a beautiful river card", and raised. First guy folded. Peter thought and thought and finally folded TJ face-up. Why did I say that? I don't know, I really don't. Maybe the pot was big enough that I didn't care if Peter paid off my raise or not. Regardless, rookie mistake. Peter REALLY wanted to know what I had, but I wouldn't tell him.
And finally, possibly the biggest pot I played (but I'm not sure). I think it went like this: EP raised, I 3-bet with AKo, EP called. Flop came AJx. He checked, I bet, he called. Turn wasn't entirely a brick -- a nine, I think -- he checked, I bet, he raised, and I called with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was one of those 'make or break' hands, and I thought he probably had AJ or A9, but I couldn't lay it down against this aggressive player. The river was a queen -- another non-bricky card -- he bet and I called. He said: "just an ace" and a huge wave of relief and elation came over me. I table my AK, he said "that's good" and mucked. Huge pot. I stood up and clapped my hands once. I couldn't help it. As I was stacking my chips, I asked him what he had to go with his ace, and he said it was an eight or something. Dave reports that my opponent said that he thought I would lay my hand down because I wanted to be on TV. I didn't hear him say that, but that's pretty funny.
That's all of the hands I remember leading up to the final table. There were more... many, many more... but that's all I got.
I called Natalie at every opportunity. Looking back on it now, all of my conversations with her had common themes, from the dinner break on the first day all the way to final table. I'd tell her that my stack was decent, but not massive. I'd tell her that the blinds were so big that one or two hands would cripple me. And I'd tell her I'd just be happy to make it to (insert increase in money jump number here) place. She was great throughout the whole experience, and would give me quick snippits of conversation from the forum, from my parents, from my friends, etc.
When we were down to 3 tables, we started getting full-time ESPN coverage. Also, there were representatives from a lot of online poker news sites and magazines hovering around, calculating our stacks, asking our names, etc...
When we were down to 2 tables, my table had most of the chips. In other words, barring any disaster, the five of us at my table should easily make the final table. The 6 players at the other table had 2 or even 3 shortstacks, so we were on serious deathwatch. The game was at times distracting us from our deathwatch. One player at my table said that the five of us should take our time with our decisions, not go crazy with betting and raising, etc. Not terrible advice, but my game didn't change, except for maybe the 'taking time with the decisions' thing. Still, I'm talking about taking ten or fifteen seconds to decide to fold instead of three or five. Nothing crazy.
A guy was walking around with a wad of toilet paper shoved up one nostril. He had either forgotten it was there, or just plain didn't care. I asked the table: "did you see that guy?". Shrugs.
And then, finally, we were at ten players remaining. The plan was for the ten of us to move to the same table, play down to nine, and then those nine would be at the TV table. Well, we were in for a surprise. As soon as we were all seated at a regular ten-handed table, we were informed that ESPN had decided to make it a ten-handed final table. We were all gonna be on the teevee.Â
Wow.
It was time to process that.
Wow.
We were given a number of instructions at that point. We had about two hours off before the final table, we had interviews scheduled with ESPN during that time, we had to give a girl a list of names of people who we wanted in the stands, etc. I processed none of it. I was still thinking: wow. Holy shit. Jesus.
Wow.
I looked at a prize payout sheet, and figured I'd have to be a complete moron NOT to make at least $28,950. And the spot after that was $43,430, and if I could make it that far, I would be scoring my biggest tournament win ever. At a WSOP, ESPN-broadcast final table. Life was good.
I'd been talking to Amy C. from PokerPages on and off throughout the week, and she requested an interview with me when I was done with ESPN. My 2 hours was filling up. Also, I had to eat. I was starving. Also, I had to call a few people. And think about what I was going to wear. I was adament that I wasn't going to change my clothing, but I eventually did. More about that later.
A note on poker and TV: to pros, it means a lot to be on TV, possibly more than the value of the actual prize money. Pros want to be on TV so they can show off and get big endorsement deals. I want to be on TV so my parents can watch. Big difference. ESPN was visibly upset that all the pros busted out before the final table. ESPN WANTS them to show off, and trash talk, and complain and get upset and make stupid jokes. It's good TV. What they got instead were 10 people who were all pretty much like me, or at least how people must have perceived me: (hopefully) a nice, quiet guy, having a great time but not being too over-the-top about it. Oh well, the ten of us made it to the final table, quiet or not, so you can record us, or not. I wasn't about to make up a whole new persona to give the viewing audience a thrill, although that is exactly what one player (who shall remain nameless) did.
Anywho, off I went for dinner, my head spinning. At the start of the day, I had to fill out an ESPN info form... major accomplishments, etc. It looked like they were going to need that info.Â
Dinner was at a really nice restaurant at the top of the Rio, with an incredible view. We trudged in, 4 grubby poker players, and stuck out like sore thumbs. I'd say we stuck out even more when the first question I asked the waiter was whether or not they did take-out. He told me that no, not really, they didn't. I told him that I was in a rush, I was in a tournament, and he said that he would hook me up, but I would lose a lot of the presentation. I said that was fine. I had my ESPN interview right in the middle of the 2-hour break, which meant I'd have to eat when I had time, and there wouldn't be enough time before the interview.
Cutlery was a problem. I'd had to get my meal 'to go' when I made the dinner break in the NLHE event as well, because the food took too long to arrive. Dave brought me the food in a styrofoam container, but no cutlery, so I was planning ahead this time. (As an aside, that meant that twice in that trip I'd eaten $50+ meals out of styrofoam containers. Only in Vegas.) I asked the waiter for cutlery to go as well, and he said they didn't have any, but I could get some plastic forks and knives from somewhere downstairs. I was ready to give up on the cutlery issue, when Bob got up and found the waiter. They had some sort of a conversation. Bob returned to the table and told me that cutlery was not a problem. The waiter came and gave me a full set of cutlery including a steak knife wrapped in a nice cloth napkin.
I called my parents, my brother, a couple of friends, and of course Natalie. Everyone I spoke with was following the action very closely at home, as were a lot of people from this forum, and I could feel the support from many miles away. Dave and I traded my fleece for his nice Team Canuck Poker jacket. I was fully prepared to go on TV looking exactly has I had throughout the day, but man, that's a nice jacket. Also, it had the beaver logo on it, so really, what more could I ask for. The prime rib arrived just in time for me to head to my ESPN interview, and I headed off to do just that.
Bob was, amazingly, still alive in this event as well. I say 'amazingly' not because I don't think he's a good player (quite the opposite), but because I thought it was pretty incredible that two members of Team Canuck Poker were still alive this deep into this tournament, regardless of (or maybe in spite of) the fact that I was one of them.
Dave and Ralph had decided not to play poker on their last non-travel day in Vegas, choosing instead to watch me and Bob make a run for the final table. This is significant. There was a $500 multi table NLHE freezeout at the Palms that afternoon. The field was probably big, and probably just as weak as it was the last time we played at the Palms. As a poker player, I can fully appreciate how hard it is to walk away from a juicy game like that, and I was kinda touched. I've said it before and I'll say it again: having Dave, Bob, and Ralph there cheering me on made a HUGE difference. After certain hands, I'd get up and tell them what I had. After certain other hands, I'd get up and one of them would give me advice on overall strategy, from their objective points of view. Very helpful.
Bob had the beaver. Bob and I were never at the same table throughout this entire tournament, which -- after having played him in the Palms sit and go -- I was glad for.
I did have some tough players at my table, though. I started Day 2 of the tournament with Annie, David Chiu, David Oppenheim, and Peter Costa all at my table. I also started the day with zero chips. The bags from the night before were handed out by the dealer, and I didn't get one. He was the most unhelpful dealer in the world, remaining completely bored and mostly silent in the face of my increasingly panicked questions about my missing chips. I wasn't just missing the chips, I was missing the bag they came in... everything. I finally tracked down a floorperson, and he tracked down my chips, which had mistakenly been delivered to the wrong table.
I chatted for a bit with David Oppenheim. I didn't recognize him, to be honest, but he had a Full Tilt jacket on with his last name on it, so I figured he was somebody. For those who don't know, he doesn't play a lot of tournaments, which is why he isn't "famous". He crushes high-limit cash games. I said: "So, basically, you have a ton of cash, but you don't have to put up with people hounding you for pictures and autographs all the time." He said that yeah, that was pretty much it. I told him that's how I'd want it to be if I ever got rich from poker, and he said that it's pretty nice. I asked him if he was going to play Negreanu heads-up at Wynn's. He replied that he'd already done so a night or two before, for 200K, in limit hold'em. He won. I again thanked my lucky stars that he was shortstacked.
Overall, he was extremely nice to me, but because he was low on chips his mood in general wasn't the greatest. Of course, right after he lost a pot, some numbskull at our table picked that EXACT moment to ask him why he never got the $50 bonus he was promised at Full Tilt Poker. David, God love him, got right into the conversation. If there's one thing these Full Tilt guys wanted to get during the WSOP, it was good press. So he asked the guy for all of his details, wrote down his name and username, and promised to resolve the situation himself. I know, I know, it's easy to be nice when you're representing a company that REQUIRES you to be nice, but I still thought that was pretty cool of him.
From here to the final table, it's a blur. I remember hands, so I'll share some of them with you. I know that both of the David's at my table busted out, and I know that the tables broke down to three at about that point. That was the last I saw of Annie... she busted out at another table shortly after. Unfortunately, Bob busted out somewhere around here as well. He came over and gave me the beaver (probably the biggest and coolest card marker in the history of card markers). I now had a very goofy looking warrior guarding my stack. A tournament director guy came over to me at one point and said: "I'm sorry sir, one player to a hand". I hadn't said anything before that, so I was confused for a second, and then I realized he was talking about the beaver.
I stroked the beaver for luck many, many times on my way to the final table.
At one point, I was the chip leader with 2 or 3 tables left. I was BUZZING. Bouncing off imaginary walls. Raise, reraise, rereraise. Fortunately for me, I didn't run into any big hands during those two minutes or so when my adrenaline fully and completely took over. I glanced over at Dave, proud of my fast play and my chip lead, and he gave me the signal to slow down. I was taken aback. Slow down?!?! I want to speed up speed up speed up speed up.... And that's when I realized: holy shit, he's right. I'm going a mile a minute here inside my head, and in these hands. If I keep going like this, I will get clobbered by a big hand. I got up and talked to Dave, and that's pretty much what he told me. He said that he knew how I was feeling, and that if it was him in that spot -- 2 or 3 tables to go and the chip lead -- his adrenaline would be through the roof and fighting him for control. He said that he would meditate at the table in this spot. I don't know much about meditation, but I took some deep breaths, folded my cards for an orbit or two, and waited for the rush to die down a bit, which it eventually did.
I promise you, I would have self-destructed at this point if not for our chat. Too much adrenaline is a very dangerous thing at a poker table, particularly when you're playing with people who have been there before, and know how to take advantage of you.
From that point on, all the up to the final table, I was calm. Very relaxed, cool as a cucumber. The tables got shorthanded, obviously, but that was fine with me. I'd played a ton of 5-handed $25/$50 limit hold'em at PokerRoom before, and I could get through this.
Some hands that happened when there were 2 or 3 tables left:
A player who I perceived as weak, tight, and frustrated raised in EP. I 3-bet him with KTo. We saw a rag flop, he checked, I bet, he folded.
Folded to the SB who limped, I checked the BB with Qc3c. The flop came something like Kc Jc 2d. He checked, I bet, and he called. The turn was the 9h. Check, bet, call. The river was the Ad. Again, he checked, I bet, and he called. He showed me J6 suited or something, and took it down with his pair of jacks.
A player who was relatively shortstacked raised in EP. I called from the BB with 8dTd. The flop came K8x rainbow. I checked, he bet, I raised, he called. (WARNING WARNING what's he calling with besides a hand that beats me!!!) The turn was a brick of some sort, check check. The river was another brick, I checked, he bet, and I paid him off. He had pocket kings.
A player raised in EP and it put him all-in. I 3-bet from MP with AdTd to isolate him. He had AK I think. The flop had one diamond in it. The turn was a diamond that gave me a gutshot. The river was a diamond that gave me the flush, and the winning hand.
An EP player raised, I 3-bet with QQ, and he folded without seeing the flop.
The very next hand, the same guy raised, I 3-bet him with TT, and he folded without seeing the flop.
A hand vs. Peter Costa: I raised in MP with JTo, and he called from the BB. The flop was AT6 or something. He checked, I bet, he called. The turn was a nine, I think. Check check. The river paired the ace. He checked, I bet, he called, my hand was good.
I raised in MP with Ah9h, and got two callers. The flop came 9Tx with one heart. Checked to me, I bet, both called. The turn was the 7h. Checked to me, I bet, both called. MASSIVE pot, when you factor in the size of the bets, the size of the stacks, and you compare it to the size of most of the other pots. The river was the beautiful Jh, putting an easy straight on the board, but giving me my flush. First guy checked, Peter Costa bet. I then became amateur hour. I checked my cards, said "That is a beautiful river card", and raised. First guy folded. Peter thought and thought and finally folded TJ face-up. Why did I say that? I don't know, I really don't. Maybe the pot was big enough that I didn't care if Peter paid off my raise or not. Regardless, rookie mistake. Peter REALLY wanted to know what I had, but I wouldn't tell him.
And finally, possibly the biggest pot I played (but I'm not sure). I think it went like this: EP raised, I 3-bet with AKo, EP called. Flop came AJx. He checked, I bet, he called. Turn wasn't entirely a brick -- a nine, I think -- he checked, I bet, he raised, and I called with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was one of those 'make or break' hands, and I thought he probably had AJ or A9, but I couldn't lay it down against this aggressive player. The river was a queen -- another non-bricky card -- he bet and I called. He said: "just an ace" and a huge wave of relief and elation came over me. I table my AK, he said "that's good" and mucked. Huge pot. I stood up and clapped my hands once. I couldn't help it. As I was stacking my chips, I asked him what he had to go with his ace, and he said it was an eight or something. Dave reports that my opponent said that he thought I would lay my hand down because I wanted to be on TV. I didn't hear him say that, but that's pretty funny.
That's all of the hands I remember leading up to the final table. There were more... many, many more... but that's all I got.
I called Natalie at every opportunity. Looking back on it now, all of my conversations with her had common themes, from the dinner break on the first day all the way to final table. I'd tell her that my stack was decent, but not massive. I'd tell her that the blinds were so big that one or two hands would cripple me. And I'd tell her I'd just be happy to make it to (insert increase in money jump number here) place. She was great throughout the whole experience, and would give me quick snippits of conversation from the forum, from my parents, from my friends, etc.
When we were down to 3 tables, we started getting full-time ESPN coverage. Also, there were representatives from a lot of online poker news sites and magazines hovering around, calculating our stacks, asking our names, etc...
When we were down to 2 tables, my table had most of the chips. In other words, barring any disaster, the five of us at my table should easily make the final table. The 6 players at the other table had 2 or even 3 shortstacks, so we were on serious deathwatch. The game was at times distracting us from our deathwatch. One player at my table said that the five of us should take our time with our decisions, not go crazy with betting and raising, etc. Not terrible advice, but my game didn't change, except for maybe the 'taking time with the decisions' thing. Still, I'm talking about taking ten or fifteen seconds to decide to fold instead of three or five. Nothing crazy.
A guy was walking around with a wad of toilet paper shoved up one nostril. He had either forgotten it was there, or just plain didn't care. I asked the table: "did you see that guy?". Shrugs.
And then, finally, we were at ten players remaining. The plan was for the ten of us to move to the same table, play down to nine, and then those nine would be at the TV table. Well, we were in for a surprise. As soon as we were all seated at a regular ten-handed table, we were informed that ESPN had decided to make it a ten-handed final table. We were all gonna be on the teevee.Â
Wow.
It was time to process that.
Wow.
We were given a number of instructions at that point. We had about two hours off before the final table, we had interviews scheduled with ESPN during that time, we had to give a girl a list of names of people who we wanted in the stands, etc. I processed none of it. I was still thinking: wow. Holy shit. Jesus.
Wow.
I looked at a prize payout sheet, and figured I'd have to be a complete moron NOT to make at least $28,950. And the spot after that was $43,430, and if I could make it that far, I would be scoring my biggest tournament win ever. At a WSOP, ESPN-broadcast final table. Life was good.
I'd been talking to Amy C. from PokerPages on and off throughout the week, and she requested an interview with me when I was done with ESPN. My 2 hours was filling up. Also, I had to eat. I was starving. Also, I had to call a few people. And think about what I was going to wear. I was adament that I wasn't going to change my clothing, but I eventually did. More about that later.
A note on poker and TV: to pros, it means a lot to be on TV, possibly more than the value of the actual prize money. Pros want to be on TV so they can show off and get big endorsement deals. I want to be on TV so my parents can watch. Big difference. ESPN was visibly upset that all the pros busted out before the final table. ESPN WANTS them to show off, and trash talk, and complain and get upset and make stupid jokes. It's good TV. What they got instead were 10 people who were all pretty much like me, or at least how people must have perceived me: (hopefully) a nice, quiet guy, having a great time but not being too over-the-top about it. Oh well, the ten of us made it to the final table, quiet or not, so you can record us, or not. I wasn't about to make up a whole new persona to give the viewing audience a thrill, although that is exactly what one player (who shall remain nameless) did.
Anywho, off I went for dinner, my head spinning. At the start of the day, I had to fill out an ESPN info form... major accomplishments, etc. It looked like they were going to need that info.Â
Dinner was at a really nice restaurant at the top of the Rio, with an incredible view. We trudged in, 4 grubby poker players, and stuck out like sore thumbs. I'd say we stuck out even more when the first question I asked the waiter was whether or not they did take-out. He told me that no, not really, they didn't. I told him that I was in a rush, I was in a tournament, and he said that he would hook me up, but I would lose a lot of the presentation. I said that was fine. I had my ESPN interview right in the middle of the 2-hour break, which meant I'd have to eat when I had time, and there wouldn't be enough time before the interview.
Cutlery was a problem. I'd had to get my meal 'to go' when I made the dinner break in the NLHE event as well, because the food took too long to arrive. Dave brought me the food in a styrofoam container, but no cutlery, so I was planning ahead this time. (As an aside, that meant that twice in that trip I'd eaten $50+ meals out of styrofoam containers. Only in Vegas.) I asked the waiter for cutlery to go as well, and he said they didn't have any, but I could get some plastic forks and knives from somewhere downstairs. I was ready to give up on the cutlery issue, when Bob got up and found the waiter. They had some sort of a conversation. Bob returned to the table and told me that cutlery was not a problem. The waiter came and gave me a full set of cutlery including a steak knife wrapped in a nice cloth napkin.
I called my parents, my brother, a couple of friends, and of course Natalie. Everyone I spoke with was following the action very closely at home, as were a lot of people from this forum, and I could feel the support from many miles away. Dave and I traded my fleece for his nice Team Canuck Poker jacket. I was fully prepared to go on TV looking exactly has I had throughout the day, but man, that's a nice jacket. Also, it had the beaver logo on it, so really, what more could I ask for. The prime rib arrived just in time for me to head to my ESPN interview, and I headed off to do just that.
Comments
Fine, fine. But get back to the poker tournament report already.
ScottyZ
He has a HUGE pre-flop tell that I warned him about... Devin, can I share that conversation?
And, when I gave him the "slow down" signal it was not "slow down, don't play so many hands," it was, "relax and stay in the driver's seat." I have spent a lot of time and energy lately thinking about and studying the effect of adrenaline. See the three most recent "Amateur Hold'em Player" articles on my site.
I was leary about giving advice since I didn't want to rattle Devin. He was playing well and who the hell am I to give a final table player advice anyway. But, I talked about it with Ralph and decided that I like it when Ralph doles me advice and I would do that same, if Devin was interested. Bob and I were not shy about giving advice, but it was mostly just "Relax and play your game."
I also note that everything is A LOT easier from the sideline.
Go ahead and tell them about the tell. I was stumped for something to talk about in the ESPN interview, and before I knew it, I was telling them about our 'tell' conversation. If they include it, the whole world's going to know anyways.
For the record, there are worse tells to have than this one, like: "I missed the board completely but I'm still betting so please don't call", or "that turn card just hit me so hard please pay me off". A tell is a tell is a tell though, preflop or otherwise. Have at it.
Devin typically checks his cards before the action reaches him. And, it is pretty clear whether he intends to play the hand or not. Nothing specific, just "interest" or "non-interest." I watched about six straight hands and I was right 100% of the time (five folds, one raise). I debated telling him about it at the time because I thought he had enough on his mind, but I did. He fixed it for a while, but started to slip back into old habits. Lesson: Develop habits. Habits repeat. And, make sure you have good habits, becuase rabbits who have good habits get more carrots.
Devin is right, this isn't the end of the world, but it's not desirable. Suppose, for instance, that you are the button. I am the cutoff and I have some complete piece of dreck. I will probably muck, but if I KNOW that the button is a fold then it opens up the "button steal" to me one seat early since I am the de facto button. If the player in the cut off is dangerous, why give him an extra crack at the blinds? Or, suppose that I am the big bling and I notice the button give the "non-interest" tell and then, when the action get to him and all have folded, he reconsiders and decides to raise. It would seem that this is an excellent time to attempt a re-steal since I figure that the button is weak.
This is a tell you see A LOT, by the way. Personally, because I KNOW that I have it too, I don't look at my cards until the action is upon me. Then I can't give the tell. For an action monkey like me this also keeps me from getting out of hands since I decide BEFORE I look at my cards what I will do with what cards.. e.g. "raise with the six pack hands" then peek. Or, "limp in with any two" then peek. Or, "fold all but Dave category two hands" then peek. In any event, I know before I look at my cards what I will do.
By the way, I also saw at least one HUGE tell from Phil Hellmuth that were reliable, I think, over the long term. File 'em away... file 'em away...
And, Mike Caro's "weak is strong" tell was spotted a lot. An awful lot. Mike Caro's eye flick tell was pretty huge too. Devin did not display either of these, although more than one world class pro did.
Thanks
This is also why, as Bob from Team Canuck will tell you, "If you are in a game in which the flop has been revealed and nobody has even seen it because they are all staring at each other, you know you are in a BAD game."