You won a tournament and lost $350 on craps and pai gow? Good work, TJ!
--Ugarte
WARNING! Real poker content in this post!
Sunday night found my spirits flying high but my Vegas bankroll running on fumes. Between craps, pai gow, donkey poker, bad decisions in NL, and NL suckouts, I was stuck about a grand. Sure, I was having loads of fun -- when you're running prop bets on the color of the wheel spin at Excalibur, or where people at your table are from, or roshambo, or are live-straddling every time you're UTG, how can you not have fun? -- but it really sucks when you see your roll is $1,000 lighter than it was three days ago. The brutality of the last $300 -- having AA cracked by QQ all-in preflop -- put me into a daze. Thankfully, HDouble and Ephro helped pull me out of it when I ran into them playing blackjack in the IP at 5:30am Sunday morning. It was yet another reinforcement, during a weekend full of them, of just how awesome the bloggers as a group really are.
Feeling as refreshed the next day as 3 hours of sleep allow, I donked around at the Mandalay sports book and poker room before moving with everyone to the MGM in the evening. While there, Grubby asked if I wanted to accompany him to a low buy-in NLHE tournament at the Sahara. It seemed like a decent way to try to rebuild the roll for minimal investment. Three of us -- me, Grubby, and Biggestron -- prepared to sprint through the corridors of MGM to NY, NY, where Grubby's car was parked. We picked up SoxLover along the way.
SoxLover very nearly put me on tilt in Grubby's car before we even got to the tournament by constantly needling me about my refusal to enter into action-buying and a last-longer bet the others had proposed. I really snapped at him, literally yelling at him "DO NOT PUT ME ON FUCKING TILT BEFORE THE TOURNAMENT EVEN STARTS!" and threatening to jump out of the car. (Biggestron remarked what a hollow threat that was, so don't start!) A low point for the trip, that explosion was. There was absolutely no reason for me to jump all over SoxLover like that. He realized that I was a bit tense and quickly toned it down, although Biggestron picked right back up with calling me a vagina for not accepting the last-longer bet after I assured him that it was ok to do so. It was at this point that he decided I would "probably win the whole damn thing".
The tournament was a $42 buy-in (T2000), with one $20 rebuy (T1500) during the first hour. All I can say is, "wow". It played like a $5 MTT on Party or Stars. There was absolutely zero fold equity. I caught a few solid hands early and built my 2000 to 3200, but then forgot about the lack of fold equity and tried to bullrush someone with AKs. He had TT and called all the way to the river, taking my entire stack in the process. Oops. Rebuy, Table 12!
I wasted no time rebuilding my rebuy stack, quickly moving to over 2500 when I came in with A2s from the BB, checked the ace-high flop, and got the guy on my left to move in behind me when a second ace hit the turn and I checked it again. Easy call.
Hour 2 found me running a bit desperate. I doubled up with ATo v 99 when an ace spiked on the turn, but then was on the losing end of the same race, this time holding 99 myself, about an orbit later. Blinds were moving quickly at that point, and I found myself with only T4000, blinds 300-600. Push or fold mode, basically. UTG, I found pocket 4s, pushed it all in, and said a prayer.
Action folded around to the small blind, who shrugged and called for his last 1500. Then the BB weighed his options and called for his last 3500, creating two pots: a main pot with 4500, and a side pot with 4000. The dealer returned 500 to me.
"Well, I guess you better flop me a set," I said to her. "Because I sure can't dodge four overs." When my opponents turned their cards over, it wasn't -quite- as bad as that. The SB had A2; the BB had QJ. Only three overs.
I sat up ever so slightly when the flop came K-K-8. A 5 on the turn got my hopes up, thinking that I might just be able to pull out the hand, but then a 5 on the river absolutely crushed me. Two pair on board, both of them higher than my fours. I had been overcoated. My forehead dropped to the table and rested on the worn felt as the dealer read the board and read the hands. She correctly pushed the main pot to the small blind, whose ace gave him kings and fives with an ace kicker. The big blind got up disgustedly and left as the dealer pushed the side pot to me.
"Did you make any money on that hand?" a player at the other end of the table asked. I checked my stack.
"500. God that sucks!"
Play resumed. Two hands later, my brain did a complete double take.
Wait a second. Didn't I LOSE that hand?
I ran through it again. The big blind's queen should have played as kicker on the K-K-8-5-5 board, giving him kings and fives with a queen versus my kings and fives with a four. Christ! The dealer had made a mistake and pushed me the pot! Not only that, but NOBODY at the table caught it, not even me. To make her mistake even more glaring, she had correctly pushed the main pot to the small blind. How in the hell does that happen?
It was far too late to do anything about it, especially since the big blind "busted" on the hand and had left the table. I considered it an incredibly strange turn of luck and concentrated on playing my best, making it to the end of hour two in better shape but still as a smallish stack.
Hour three was when I really began to channel CJ. As if getting a second lease on my tournament life wasn't already luckbox-ish enough, I began to hit some massive suckouts. First, I cracked SoxLover's kings when I moved in behind him with A5o. The truth is, I was in the 1-seat and he was in the 10-seat, and with the dealer in between us, I didn't see him raise to 6,000 from UTG. When I pushed for 7,500, I thought I was first in. Of course, he called, and I doubled when the board came 5-T-J-Q-K. I think this hand got me some action later on, as some at the table visibly snickered when they saw what I had called him with. Better to be lucky than good, I guess!
I managed to build a bit more after that, until a shortish stack moved in from MP. His bet represented about 40% of my stack, and I was holding AT on the button. I didn't like calling, but figured I should take a shot anyway, as the payouts were very top-heavy. Imagine my surprise when the big blind called all-in behind me for less than the bet. The big blind had 88; MP had AQs. "Put a ten out there, would you?" I asked the dealer. He complied by putting one out on the flop and one on the turn, allowing me to knock out both players in the process and build up a sizable stack.
Once we made it to the final table, I drew a great seat, moving two seats to the left of the big stack who had previously been two seats to MY left. She was an adequate, but not great, player, and from my new seat on her left, I just started running over the table. I think I knocked out six of the other ten players at the final table. Poor Obie was one of my victims when he moved in with TT from MP and I woke up with KK on the button.
The hand of the tournament came when we were four-handed, blinds 4k/8k. I was the second chip stack at that time, still lagging slightly behind the woman two seats to my right. The other two players, in between us on either side, had 40k and 70k to our 110k and 120k. In the BB, I found Q8o. It folded to the SB (70k), who limped in. Sometimes I raise here, sometimes I check. This time I checked.
We took a flop of A-4-6, two diamonds. Check, check. The turn was an offsuit 8. He checked again, and I bet 20k.
"Raise," he said. "40 thousand."
Craaaaaaaaaaaap. "Think it through!" I said to myself, and into the tank I went.
The payouts were extremely top-heavy. I don't remember what fourth paid, but third was $450, second was $950, and first was $1900. Playing for chips was clearly the correct play, something SoxLover had reminded me of at the third break. If I folded here, I would be crippled slightly but not in terrible shape. On the other hand, if I went to the river and lost, I'd be in deep trouble. If I went to the river and WON, I'd be in control for sure. Therefore, I knew that this was a "make or break" hand of the tournament.
What about my opponent? Straight off the top, my read was that he was not particuarly tricky. While I could see him limping preflop with an ace, I couldn't see him checking it twice, especially after some more draws materialized on the turn. Same with a set. That left him with either 5-7 for a straight, a strange two pair, or a single pair. Without more information, I wasn't willing to give him credit for the monster straight, narrowing my read down to one pair or a strange two pair. Obviously, I could beat one pair unless he held K-8. Decision time.
"I call", I said, sliding a second stack of 20k out to match the three already on the felt. Call? you ask. My thinking: my opponent will auto-call a raise, and by calling here, I obligate myself to go to showdown. However, if his hand is weak, he may check through the river, in which case I can get a cheap showdown. If he moves in on the river, I auto-call in no worse shape.
The river was a harmless looking 2d, and my opponent moved in for his last 30k. I didn't even think about it. "I call."
"Pair of 8s," he said, flipping over T-8.
"Pair of 8s, better kicker." The massive pot was mine.
The Swedish guy sitting next to me, who had not been involved int the hand, was dumbfounded. "How could you call that? I just don't see how you could call that."
"That's why I'm stacking his chips and you're not," I replied.
Was it a bad play on my part? Maybe. I'm not sure. I stuck with my read and my gut, and they were right. I was willing to take a chance to be crippled in order to have a shot at a big payday. Isn't that what we always tell ourselves? In order to win a tournament, you have to be willing to lose. I had him on either 6s or a weak 8, and I was right. Or maybe just lucky.
Either way, it didn't matter. A short time later, I busted the Swedish guy with AJ, and we were down to heads up. I had a 10:7 chip lead. I thought about proposing some sort of chop, but then realized I could probably outplay my opponent. On the sixth heads-up hand, blinds 5k/10k, she raised to 40k, I reraised all-in holding 99, and she called with 66. My 9s held, and I was $1900 richer and unstuck for the weekend.
Massive props go out to Grubby, Obie and SoxLover, who sweated me all the way through the bitter end. I was constantly popping out of my seat to go get words of encouragement from them or to explain particularly difficult decisions and why I played them the way I did. (77 in the BB facing a raise from the big stack comes to mind.) They were solid troopers to the end, and my only regret is that Grubby and Obie didn't come into IP with me and SoxLover so I could buy them a celebratory drink or three. Next time!
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