WSOP 2005 Day 4 part 1
I don't have any notes for days 4 and 5, so if I get some details wrong, or I'm a little fuzzy on some of the hands, my apologies. For instance, I might report playing a hand against a player early on day 2 when he/she was knocked out late on day one. That sort of thing.
Day 4 started like every other Team Canuck Poker day started: me, Ralph, Dave and Bob having breakfast at the Rio. We were all feeling pretty Team Ca-sucky about our results so far. Ralph had decided not to play in the Limit event, and I can't say that I blame him. Had I not pre-registered, there is a slight chance that I would have decided it wasn't my year at the WSOP, and played in a smaller event away from the Rio, instead.
The event was $1500 buy-in Limit Hold'em. It attracted 1,071 entrants, for a total prize pool of $1,477,980. This was quite an increase from 2004, when "only" 608 people played.
My first table started with a few guys talking shit. Literally. They were talking about shit. One guy was something of an expert in the world of colon cancer, etc... and the guy to his right was very interested in details; they were both in their mid-fifties. I was to that guy's right, and not interested in details at all, but I had no choice. They were right next to me, I was getting shortstacked, and they were putting me on tilt with all their shit talking. The guy went on for a good while about bloody diarrhea, and how much of it flows through such-and-such river every day. (If you've been following Dave's reports, you'll know that he encountered something similar in a washroom stall. I was thinking we'd found our culprit.)
Then, he started in about rectal exams. In particular, he was talking about how it was really strange when he gave his wife a rectal examination, but it got a lot easier for both of them after she took a sedative. (Dave's question to me later on: "What did he say he used for the examination?" My answer: "I don't know. A dildo?")
A guy came up to him from out of nowhere and asked him for his business card, so he could follow up on their anal health conversation from the day before. He got the business card and walked away. I was ready to give out my chips, one by one, and leave.
How 'bout poker, you ask? What was going on with the cards, and the chips, and stuff? I don't know. I remember my stack dwindling, dwindling... and then somehow going back up again. I raised with QQ and the BB called. Flop came Q high, I bet, she called. Turn brick, I checked, thinking she'd put me on AK, which she did I assume because she bet, I raised, she called and paid me off on the river.Â
Alan Goehring started the day two seats to my right, but I didn't recognize him until someone pointed it out to me. (If you don't recognize the name, either, he won first place in the 2003 WPT 25K buy-in Championship Event for just over a million, I think.) As soon as I found out he was a pro, I thought: "THAT'S why that guy keeps stealing my blinds." And oh boy, did he ever. Every time it was folded around to him on the button, he raised, leaving me to defend my big blind against him, or not. I tried, and failed, to do so. I got so sick of it I called him with 92o once. Flop came high cards, I checked, he bet, I called. Turn was something, check check. River was something as well, I bet, he raised, I folded. Ugh. I think I only successfully defended against him once. The rest of the time I either folded and let him have it, or I called and folded the flop.Â
An interesting hand from my first table when the blinds were getting up there and I was getting down there. I had AQo in EP and raised, to 200 I think. I got four callers. The flop came Q high with two spades, but no other real draw. Someone bet, I raised, someone #2 re-raised, someone #1 called, I re-raised, and both someones called, which set one of them all-in.
The turn was a third spade, and I bet my last chips and was called, still eligible for both the side and the main, with 2 of the three of us now all-in. The river was a fourth spade. I had no spades. That river card was about the worst thing I'd ever seen. I flipped over my hand, and stood up, ready to walk away. Slowly, the other two players turned over their hands. At least it seemed slowly... it felt like an eternity. One had 88, no spade, no 8 on the board. The other had QhTh, no ten on the board. I looked from one hand to the other to the board and back again, over and over. The dealer was having a hard time figuring it out too. Finally I said, in totally honest disbelief: "You mean my hand is GOOD?? For ALL of it?!?". Yep. It was. That was the last hand before a break, and I finally had some chips to play with.
Between the shit-talking guys, and the aggressive blind-stealer to my right, I REALLY wanted my table to break. Fortunately, the anal health conversations stopped when Antonio 'The Magician' Esfandiari sat down to the right of Alan. What was he like? Oh you know. He was like what you think he's like: all that and then some. Actually, he seemed like a pretty nice guy, who exuded a lethal amount of confidence in himself. I guess that's not a bad thing... depends what type of person you are yourself.
The guy to Mr. Shit's left looked and sounded a LOT like Edgar, from the show "24", so I'm going to call him Edgar. Super-nice guy, easily star-struck. When Antonio sat down he just about lost his shit. Fortunately, there would have been someone there to find it for him. and analyze it if need be.
OK, I'm sorry. I will stop with all this filthy talk. But I tell you, there are all sorts of conversations that happen at poker tables, and you DON'T want to have to listen to poker players talk about this stuff. Maybe I'm just getting it all out of my system here.
Damn, that was too easy. "Getting it out of my system". OK, I'll REALLY stop now. No more of it, I promise.
Anyways, Edgar and Antonio had a pretty priceless conversation. It went something like this:
Edgar: "Antonio, I just wanted to tell you, my son, he's a HUGE fan of yours, he really is..."
Antonio: "Oh yeah? That's really cool, thanks!"
Edgar: "Yeah. He plays online, just for play money, and when someone puts a bad beat on him, he says 'Antonio wouldn't have played the hand that bad' and when he wins, he says 'I played that one almost as good as Antonio!'
Antonio: "That's awesome. How old's your son?"
Edgar: "Nine."
Antonio: "I love your son. Nine years old, and he's gambling on the internet."
Edgar: (pause) "You think there's something wrong with that?"
Antonio: (pause) "No, no man. It's cool."
Meanwhile, I was dying of laughter on the inside. I think tears might have been coming out of my eyes, I was trying that hard not to laugh when the guy said "nine". Tooooooooooo much.
Antonio busted out, Alan accumulated a lot of chips, I was up but not by much, and our table finally broke.
I didn't recognize anyone at my next table, except for Ross Boatman from "The Hendon Mob". He was two to my right. He was not NEARLY as much of a problem as Alan was. In the first 10 minutes after my arrival, I saw him win a pot with a flopped straight flush, and one with the nut flush. I asked him: "Do you ever make things like pairs, or do you just play straights or better?" He replied that anytime he put chips into the pot he had the nuts or close to it. Riiiiight.
As an aside, while I'm talking about big hands, it's worth mentioning that over the course of the two days, I didn't get any. I made a full house once (which lost to Hellmuth's bigger full house) and I think I made a flush once. That's about it. The three queens were my only set for the entire trip, I think, and every other hand had me showing down one or two pairs that were good enough to win, or better still, not making it to showdown at all.
By the 'Ross Boatman table' point, I'm guessing there were maybe 200 players left, with the top 100 getting paid. Bob was still in the event, but he was on the other side of the room so I couldn't track his progress. Ralph had returned from Wynn's, and was hanging around my table to watch, which was really cool, and which kept me really cool about things.
One interesting hand from the Ross Boatman table: folded to me in MP and I raised with 8c9c. Folded to the BB, who called. The BB had been in every pot I was in, for some reason. Maybe he didn't like me. I KNEW he'd call though, so maybe I shouldn't have raised his BB with such a weak hand. Regarless, here's how the rest of the hand went: the flop came AKx, no clubs, he checked, I bet, he check-raised, I three-bet, and he folded. The blinds were big, too, but I knew he'd check-raise the flop to try and knock me off my hand. No sir, I was having none of it.
In a moment of uncontrollable ego, I couldn't resist telling the guy to my right what I had. (He and I had been chatting throughout my time at the table... very nice guy whose dad was hovering over him, driving him nuts.) The guy couldn't believe it, and said 'nice hand'. Then the other end of the table started going a little bit crazy, telling me that if the guy to my right knows what I had, the rest of the table had to know, too. I said that since I didn't actually SHOW the hand to him I didn't have to tell them anything. They disagreed, the dealer didn't know, the floor was about to be called, and I said "All right, all right, here's what I TOLD him I had. I TOLD him I had the eight and nine of clubs". They asked him if that was true. He said "Well, it's true that that's what he told me, yes, but I have no idea what he had". And that was that.Â
Another hand at the Ross Boatman table, right before dinner, I think. I had AA in EP and raised, and was called by no less than five people. Big blinds relative to the stacks at the table, and 5 people called me. I was ready to drop my aces at the first sign of trouble. The flop was KQx with two spades. I bet, and 3 people called. The turn was a brick. I bet, and 2 people called. Huge pot. The river was a brick. I bet, and nobody called. Whew.
I went for dinner with Bob, Ralph, and Dave. Bob was in it, and doing well, I was happy to hear. My stack was healthy... very healthy. Maybe twice the average stack. With maybe 180 people left at the dinner break, I was very very anxious to make it into the money for the first time at a WSOP event.Â
Day 4 started like every other Team Canuck Poker day started: me, Ralph, Dave and Bob having breakfast at the Rio. We were all feeling pretty Team Ca-sucky about our results so far. Ralph had decided not to play in the Limit event, and I can't say that I blame him. Had I not pre-registered, there is a slight chance that I would have decided it wasn't my year at the WSOP, and played in a smaller event away from the Rio, instead.
The event was $1500 buy-in Limit Hold'em. It attracted 1,071 entrants, for a total prize pool of $1,477,980. This was quite an increase from 2004, when "only" 608 people played.
My first table started with a few guys talking shit. Literally. They were talking about shit. One guy was something of an expert in the world of colon cancer, etc... and the guy to his right was very interested in details; they were both in their mid-fifties. I was to that guy's right, and not interested in details at all, but I had no choice. They were right next to me, I was getting shortstacked, and they were putting me on tilt with all their shit talking. The guy went on for a good while about bloody diarrhea, and how much of it flows through such-and-such river every day. (If you've been following Dave's reports, you'll know that he encountered something similar in a washroom stall. I was thinking we'd found our culprit.)
Then, he started in about rectal exams. In particular, he was talking about how it was really strange when he gave his wife a rectal examination, but it got a lot easier for both of them after she took a sedative. (Dave's question to me later on: "What did he say he used for the examination?" My answer: "I don't know. A dildo?")
A guy came up to him from out of nowhere and asked him for his business card, so he could follow up on their anal health conversation from the day before. He got the business card and walked away. I was ready to give out my chips, one by one, and leave.
How 'bout poker, you ask? What was going on with the cards, and the chips, and stuff? I don't know. I remember my stack dwindling, dwindling... and then somehow going back up again. I raised with QQ and the BB called. Flop came Q high, I bet, she called. Turn brick, I checked, thinking she'd put me on AK, which she did I assume because she bet, I raised, she called and paid me off on the river.Â
Alan Goehring started the day two seats to my right, but I didn't recognize him until someone pointed it out to me. (If you don't recognize the name, either, he won first place in the 2003 WPT 25K buy-in Championship Event for just over a million, I think.) As soon as I found out he was a pro, I thought: "THAT'S why that guy keeps stealing my blinds." And oh boy, did he ever. Every time it was folded around to him on the button, he raised, leaving me to defend my big blind against him, or not. I tried, and failed, to do so. I got so sick of it I called him with 92o once. Flop came high cards, I checked, he bet, I called. Turn was something, check check. River was something as well, I bet, he raised, I folded. Ugh. I think I only successfully defended against him once. The rest of the time I either folded and let him have it, or I called and folded the flop.Â
An interesting hand from my first table when the blinds were getting up there and I was getting down there. I had AQo in EP and raised, to 200 I think. I got four callers. The flop came Q high with two spades, but no other real draw. Someone bet, I raised, someone #2 re-raised, someone #1 called, I re-raised, and both someones called, which set one of them all-in.
The turn was a third spade, and I bet my last chips and was called, still eligible for both the side and the main, with 2 of the three of us now all-in. The river was a fourth spade. I had no spades. That river card was about the worst thing I'd ever seen. I flipped over my hand, and stood up, ready to walk away. Slowly, the other two players turned over their hands. At least it seemed slowly... it felt like an eternity. One had 88, no spade, no 8 on the board. The other had QhTh, no ten on the board. I looked from one hand to the other to the board and back again, over and over. The dealer was having a hard time figuring it out too. Finally I said, in totally honest disbelief: "You mean my hand is GOOD?? For ALL of it?!?". Yep. It was. That was the last hand before a break, and I finally had some chips to play with.
Between the shit-talking guys, and the aggressive blind-stealer to my right, I REALLY wanted my table to break. Fortunately, the anal health conversations stopped when Antonio 'The Magician' Esfandiari sat down to the right of Alan. What was he like? Oh you know. He was like what you think he's like: all that and then some. Actually, he seemed like a pretty nice guy, who exuded a lethal amount of confidence in himself. I guess that's not a bad thing... depends what type of person you are yourself.
The guy to Mr. Shit's left looked and sounded a LOT like Edgar, from the show "24", so I'm going to call him Edgar. Super-nice guy, easily star-struck. When Antonio sat down he just about lost his shit. Fortunately, there would have been someone there to find it for him. and analyze it if need be.
OK, I'm sorry. I will stop with all this filthy talk. But I tell you, there are all sorts of conversations that happen at poker tables, and you DON'T want to have to listen to poker players talk about this stuff. Maybe I'm just getting it all out of my system here.
Damn, that was too easy. "Getting it out of my system". OK, I'll REALLY stop now. No more of it, I promise.
Anyways, Edgar and Antonio had a pretty priceless conversation. It went something like this:
Edgar: "Antonio, I just wanted to tell you, my son, he's a HUGE fan of yours, he really is..."
Antonio: "Oh yeah? That's really cool, thanks!"
Edgar: "Yeah. He plays online, just for play money, and when someone puts a bad beat on him, he says 'Antonio wouldn't have played the hand that bad' and when he wins, he says 'I played that one almost as good as Antonio!'
Antonio: "That's awesome. How old's your son?"
Edgar: "Nine."
Antonio: "I love your son. Nine years old, and he's gambling on the internet."
Edgar: (pause) "You think there's something wrong with that?"
Antonio: (pause) "No, no man. It's cool."
Meanwhile, I was dying of laughter on the inside. I think tears might have been coming out of my eyes, I was trying that hard not to laugh when the guy said "nine". Tooooooooooo much.
Antonio busted out, Alan accumulated a lot of chips, I was up but not by much, and our table finally broke.
I didn't recognize anyone at my next table, except for Ross Boatman from "The Hendon Mob". He was two to my right. He was not NEARLY as much of a problem as Alan was. In the first 10 minutes after my arrival, I saw him win a pot with a flopped straight flush, and one with the nut flush. I asked him: "Do you ever make things like pairs, or do you just play straights or better?" He replied that anytime he put chips into the pot he had the nuts or close to it. Riiiiight.
As an aside, while I'm talking about big hands, it's worth mentioning that over the course of the two days, I didn't get any. I made a full house once (which lost to Hellmuth's bigger full house) and I think I made a flush once. That's about it. The three queens were my only set for the entire trip, I think, and every other hand had me showing down one or two pairs that were good enough to win, or better still, not making it to showdown at all.
By the 'Ross Boatman table' point, I'm guessing there were maybe 200 players left, with the top 100 getting paid. Bob was still in the event, but he was on the other side of the room so I couldn't track his progress. Ralph had returned from Wynn's, and was hanging around my table to watch, which was really cool, and which kept me really cool about things.
One interesting hand from the Ross Boatman table: folded to me in MP and I raised with 8c9c. Folded to the BB, who called. The BB had been in every pot I was in, for some reason. Maybe he didn't like me. I KNEW he'd call though, so maybe I shouldn't have raised his BB with such a weak hand. Regarless, here's how the rest of the hand went: the flop came AKx, no clubs, he checked, I bet, he check-raised, I three-bet, and he folded. The blinds were big, too, but I knew he'd check-raise the flop to try and knock me off my hand. No sir, I was having none of it.
In a moment of uncontrollable ego, I couldn't resist telling the guy to my right what I had. (He and I had been chatting throughout my time at the table... very nice guy whose dad was hovering over him, driving him nuts.) The guy couldn't believe it, and said 'nice hand'. Then the other end of the table started going a little bit crazy, telling me that if the guy to my right knows what I had, the rest of the table had to know, too. I said that since I didn't actually SHOW the hand to him I didn't have to tell them anything. They disagreed, the dealer didn't know, the floor was about to be called, and I said "All right, all right, here's what I TOLD him I had. I TOLD him I had the eight and nine of clubs". They asked him if that was true. He said "Well, it's true that that's what he told me, yes, but I have no idea what he had". And that was that.Â
Another hand at the Ross Boatman table, right before dinner, I think. I had AA in EP and raised, and was called by no less than five people. Big blinds relative to the stacks at the table, and 5 people called me. I was ready to drop my aces at the first sign of trouble. The flop was KQx with two spades. I bet, and 3 people called. The turn was a brick. I bet, and 2 people called. Huge pot. The river was a brick. I bet, and nobody called. Whew.
I went for dinner with Bob, Ralph, and Dave. Bob was in it, and doing well, I was happy to hear. My stack was healthy... very healthy. Maybe twice the average stack. With maybe 180 people left at the dinner break, I was very very anxious to make it into the money for the first time at a WSOP event.Â
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Assholes.
ScottyZ