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Epilogue

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You would think that after playing all day on Tuesday (and losing), I would just curl up in a ball and sleep all day Wednesday. I thought about doing just that, but instead, I woke up paradoxically refreshed and ready to seize the day. I slept better on Tuesday night than I have in several days. It was almost like (a) a great burden had been lifted from my psyche; and (b) I had exercised myself (mentally) into a state of exhaustion that only a good night of sleep could correct. Whatever caused this, I showered up early and started looking at poker tournaments to play that day. To my surprise, there was a $250 tournament for seniors only at the WSOP at 8:00 a.m.  (I guess this fits into the stereotype of seniors not sleeping late.) It was 7:50 when I saw this, so I dressed quickly (hoodie, jeans, sneakers) and raced over to the WSOP registration to enter the tournament. My streak of non-premium hands continued all day - no large pairs, no straights, no flushes - but when my pair of ...
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Fifth level

Well, this is it. Two more hours and then it’s over. I either go home or I bag my chips, however much I have, and come back on Friday. I will be looking for opportunities to double up at this point. I’d rather play a different tournament later this week than play this tournament as a dead man walking. Maybe the big pair will finally come my way. I’m due! ————————————————- The big pair never came.  I got bounced from the tournament when my AK lost to JJ.  I had been short-stacked for a while, so there wasn’t much I could do. I’ll give you a post-mortem tomorrow, but I think I pretty much did what I could do against a really tough table, and without getting ANY premium hands all day. Some days, you’re the shark and some days, you’re the chum. Good night!
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Fourth level

This is where things start getting tricky. We are playing for four more hours, and people are tired and getting tireder with each passing minute. There are bargains to be had against these tired people making bad decisions, but you have to avoid being the guy making the bad decision. At 58,600, I could go to my hotel room and come back at midnight and still have chips. But what’s the fun in that? I am here to build my stack, not just to survive. But this is the challenge of the tournament. There are too many players in every hand - the likelihood is high that I will run into at least one very good hand every deal. I can’t play fun goofy poker, as much as I really, really want to. I have to keep waiting. ——————————————— Well, a good hand came on the button.  AKd, and a guy out of position raised into me for 1200. The flop was a bunch of nothing, so the guy checked and I bet 4000.  He re-raised to 12,000 and I called. The next card did not improve me and I had to fold to his all...
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Third level

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Starting the third level, it’s time to meet the guys at my table. Seat 1: loose aggressive, doesn’t respect me. A little talkative - one of those guys who know the tournament officials, and is a little proud of that. He has said today that one should not be ashamed of being caught in a bluff. He was the guy who called my semi-bluff with his straight while a flush was on the board. He may be gettable. Seat 2: loose aggressive and now gone. Argentinian, made weird bets. He was the one who doubled me up. Seat 3: originally a loose aggressive guy who got sent to another table, now a tight passive player. He split a pot with me with AQ when neither of us took the initiative to bet the other off the pot. Seat 4: older guy who has had at least a dozen people come watch him play. I am not impressed with his play - he’s the one who limped with AQ on the button. He is gettable too. Seat 5: an aggressive player, seems fundamentally sound. He is wearing a hoodie with poker logos branded on it,...
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Second level

Well, I need to tighten up. Losing about 1/3 of my stack in the first two hours is not a winning strategy. So, second hand of the second level, JJ looks up at me. One raiser, so I call in position. Flop is Axx, so I bet 2000 to see where I’m at. Raiser calls. We check it down from there and his A10 is good.  Where’s the love, dealer? —————————————- You ask and you receive. AKh in the BB. Seat 1, as usual, raises to 800. SB calls the 800, and I raise to 2400. Seat 1 calls, SB folds, and we see a flop that has an ace. I bet 3200 and Seat 1 folds.  42,800. _____________________________ Another cooler. Don’t want to write about it right now. 29,300. ____________________________ K5d on the button.  Seat 2, who has been routinely betting 800, gets four callers, including me. SB and BB fold.  Flop is K58, two clubs.  I bet 2400.  Seat 2 calls, the others fold. Turn is a 10. Seat 2 puts me all in. Although I am terrified of the set, I call and he shows AK. It holds...
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And we’re off

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I got to the Horseshoe 20 minutes early. They have not opened the room where Gold 675 is, so I backtracked to the WSOP Cafe overflow room, which is cool and quiet. In my old age, cool and quiet is what you want. I’d passed the time this morning watching the Nathan’s Famous hot dog eating contest and wishing I’d put some money on Joey Chestnut to repeat. Fifteen minutes to go before we start. -——————————————— I’m now in the room where it happens. Gold 475 will become its own ecosystem, an island of stability amidst the chaos of the tournament. I may become friendly with my competitors - it’s hard not to be when you spend ten hours with the same people. Seat 6 is a good place to be, I suppose, as long as I’m not to the right of a difficult player. Last year, one of our team  started his day to the immediate right of a guy named Stephen Chidwick, who is one of the top ten players in the world. This, to say the least, prevented my buddy from doing anything creative - guys like Chidwick...
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Getting ready

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I was up at 5:30 this morning after some fitful sleep.  The theme of last night's dreams was not displacement this time, but something else. While some guys dream about winning the Masters, making millions, or saucier stuff, in my dream last night, I was in a small rental house, on my hands and knees, cleaning a dirty kitchen floor with a rag.   That was it - the whole dream that I remember.  (Well, not all of it: for some reason,  Alias -era Jennifer Garner was there helping me, but that just makes it more pitiful.) As an accomplished dream interpreter, I think I have a read on what this dream meant. The rental house could have been a stand-in for my status as a representative of the poker league, as in the tournament entry belongs to the group and I am just the lucky resident who gets to stay there; the dirty floor represents my insecurity about my abilities; and the cleaning rag stands for my efforts to be a better player.  (And Jennifer Garner? I think ...
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