I still have a couple days before Day 2 of the Main. Given the schedule, if I want to play, I need to enter one day tournaments — any longer risks conflicting with the Main.
I build up my confidence and head to the PokerGO studios for a one-day high roller event. It’s a small field, usually only attracting a few dozen players. It’s a refreshing change from navigating thousands of players at the WSOP. But it’s tough, attracting the best players in the world and the occasional amateur who can stomach the $10k buy-in.
We’re slow to get started as players trickle in. It’s mostly 20-something Europeans that look familiar, but I can’t quite remember their names. Some I know I’ve played against before.
I don’t have an edge against this field. I still have a long way to go before that’s the case, and I might never get there. But if I want to take my game where I want it to be, I need to push myself, take shots. I’ve worked with a coach that’s a regular in these games. I’ve studied and drilled. What I'm lacking most is the real-world experience to sharpen me.
We get seated and Adrian Mateos is to my left. Fedor Holz is across from me.
I pick up a few small pots but my chips ultimately head in the wrong direction.
I tangle with Adrian in a three-bet pot. It’s bet down to the river and he jams into me. Flush and straight possibilities are on the board. I can only beat a bluff, but it’s not obvious to me that I have the right blockers. I quickly fold, having lost a third of my stack.
I’m later in another three-bet pot with Fedor. I’m in position with queen-jack suited on a king-six-four board and two low cards that give me a flush draw. I call his bet to see another king hit the turn. He checks to me — I think I need to bet here about half the time, but my randomizer comes low so I check. The river is another six and he checks to me again. I burn some time trying to figure out if I can bluff, but I don’t think I have the right hand to bluff with. I check and his ace high wins the pot. I may have lost the minimum, but it still takes a big chunk out of my stack.
A while later I’m in yet another three-bet pot with an unknown player in the big blind. He continuation bets into me on a eight-four-two flop, all spades. I jam my ace-eight of hearts into him and he agonizes before finding a call with pocket queens, one spade. I need an ace or an eight to win the pot but the cards never come.
I’m disappointed. But I check and re-check my big hands afterwards, and for the most part, I played correctly. The cards just didn’t run out in my favor.
There’s an $800 one-day at the Venetian that started a few hours ago, but there’s a little bit of time left in late registration. I’ll start short stacked, but I’m eager to play more poker.
I talk to the player on my right after I sit down, he can’t be much older than 21. He’s in from Youngstown, Ohio with his dad, who’s playing the Main. As we’re talking it’s folded to us in the blinds and he puts in a min-raise. I call with jack-three of diamonds and we see a jack-jack-nine flop. He bets again and I call to see a queen on the turn. He checks to me and I make a half pot bet. He calls and we see a second nine on the river. He checks again and I move all-in. “If you have a jack that’s just unfortunate," he groans as he makes the call. He shows me his queen-nine for a worse full house and I scoop the pot, happy for the quick double-up.
Not long after I make a loose call from the big blind with four-three off-suit in a four way pot. I flop bottom two pair on a ten-high board. There's a bet and a call and I make a hefty check-raise. The early position shoves all-in to me and I make the call to see his ace-ten. The board doesn't improve for him and I'm up to 4x a starting stack.
Most days of tournament poker are met with disappointment — missed flops, scary rivers, bluffs that can't go through. But when the cards go right, it's beautiful.
I get all-in pre-flop with ace-king suited versus pocket queens and an ace hits the river. I get maximum value on the river with ace-king against ace-jack on an ace-high board. I make a turn bluff into a hefty pot, my opponent shows me his paired ace as he folds. Four hours in I'm at 18x a starting stack. It feels good.
I lose my share of pots too, but I pick up enough of the ones that matter most. And when my cards go dead, I have enough of a cushion that few opponents at the table can hurt my stack badly enough.
I cruise to the money bubble — the initial field of 610 entries have whittled down to 64 players. We're hand-for-hand as we wait for the last player to be eliminated to get into the money.
A big stack to my right tries to take advantage of the bubble, but gets caught in his aggression by a player with pocket aces. The very next hand he open shoves from the button and I call with ace-ten of spades from the small blind. If I lose, I'm down to 10 big blinds. But he flips over queen-nine off-suit and an ace on the flop gives me the win to pop the bubble.
Over the next few hours my stack sometimes falters, but I manage to make speedy recoveries. The blinds climb fast as the tournament runs into the night and the field winnows. We're down to a few tables with a lot of short stacks. Before long we're down to nine players, consolidated into the final table.
By now I'm the second shortest stack at the table. I had managed to double up a few of the short stacks and went card dead as we got to short-handed play with escalating blinds. I want to win the tournament outright, but I'm happy to make it to the final table.
The Youngstown kid is two to my left, having recovered nicely from his coolered full house early in the day. He limps from early position and gets two callers. From the small blind I look at six-five of hearts. I only have five big blinds left, but I have enough equity that I pay the half of a big blind to make the call. The big blind thankfully doesn't try to steal the pot and the five of us see a king-jack-four flop with two hearts.
It checks around and a miracle ten of hearts comes on the turn to give me a flush. I check, and I'm pleased to see the kid throw out a bet. I jam when it folds around to me. "I played this all wrong," he says as he makes the call with pocket queens. One of them is a heart, giving him a royal flush draw. But the river is a blank and I climb up to thirteen big blinds.
We lose a player and are down to eight. The blinds are escalating quickly, the structure designed to ensure that the tournament finishes in less than one day. I manage to pick up more and more chips, but my stack is smaller relative to the size of the blinds.
On the button, I jam my twelve big blinds with jack-nine of clubs. The kid calls me from the big blind with ace-jack. An ace on the flop extends his lead, and a jack on the turn has me drawing dead. There's some confusion about whether I have chips left, but he has me covered by less than a big blind. I'm out in eighth place for a $9,394 payout.
It's 4am when I exit the tournament and collect my winnings. I get in a cab and we drive down Las Vegas boulevard. It’s eerie to be out at this hour, the lights alive as usual but the crowds gone.
My brain is slow to brake after sixteen hours of play. I finally drift to sleep past 5am, the first rays of sunlight peering over the mountains, traffic picking up as locals head in for their early shifts.
I dream of pocket pairs, flopped flushes and river bluffs.