Nov 21
I have decided not to actually post too many details of my second satellite at the WSOP Paris. It all seems so much less interesting than the delicacies of the main event. However, the second satellite tought me a very important lesson, which actually came into play in the real tournament. I make an earnest effort to learn from my mistakes and I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t learn from my mistakes as well.
In the second $50 sit-n-go tournament I completely ran over the table. I took the chip lead on the third hand of the tournament and never looked back. After personally eliminating the first 5 players in a row I was sitting on over half of the chips at the table. However, I got so used to having the table covered that I allowed my mind to slip a bit, which led to my ultimate disaster. Another player at the table caught a rush of good cards and eliminated 3 players, quietly amassing a chip stack to rival my own. When it got down to the final three, two of us were sitting on about 45% of the chips while the third player held the other 10%.
The final hand went down as follows… I maintained my level of aggression and raised from the button with Jack Queen off, trying to force the short-stacked big blind to commit the rest of his chips. To my slight dismay the third player called my raise from the small blind. As expected, the big blind reraised all-in for only a little bit more and the small blind and I made the obvious calls. The flop came like a dream: Q 10 9 – giving me top pair and an open-ended draw. Normally in these situations the two remaining players would check it down and eliminate the all-in player. However, with such a powerful hand there wasn’t any reason that I should give the small blind a chance to redraw on me; and so I bet out with half the size of the pot – perhaps 25% of my stack. For the most part I didn’t expect my bet to get called. That bet serves primarily as an alert to the other player that I have a real hand, “Thanks buddy, but I’ll take it from here.” Amazingly, the small blind not only called my bet but re-raised all-in. I paused for a moment to consider what had just happened. The reality of the moment is that I had just been put to a decision for all my chips by a player who I knew was incapable of a bluff. That meant he had a real hand. The question I had to answer wasn’t whether he had a real hand, I knew that he thought he had a real hand, but exactly what did that mean? One pair? Two pair? A straight? What is his definition of a good hand? Had I actually given it thought I would have put him on at least a strong two pair: q-10 or q-9. If that was the case then I actually had a pretty good redraw – 4 kings, 4 eights, 3 jacks for 11 outs and a 40% chance to win. If he had a set my draw was only to 8 outs, and if he had the straight I was drawing to 4 outs – and those are probably to a tie. In retrospect I should have folded. However, none of this thinking actually went through my head at the time. Instead I thought only two things:
- I have a big hand with a strong redraw against whatever this jamoke is holding
- I have a boat load of chips and could win the whole thing now
I took some time to ‘think’ but the truth was that I had already made my decision. After a few moments I made the call and turned over my cards. The small blind turned over his hand – top two pair with his Queen Ten off. I still had a good redraw but it never got there and I was crippled. What should have been an easy win became a depressing loss. And yet, there was a silver lining to this rain cloud. Obsessively reflecting on the hand for the next few hours I realized two things.
- I caught an incredibly unlucky flop for our hands. There are probably only two flops that can come where I would get all my money in the middle and NOT be a big favorite. Q Q 10 and Q 10 9.
- I didn’t give the situation the consideration it deserved. I should have counted his chips. I should have put him on a specific hand. I should have thought about the implications of our relative chip positions in the tournament. I shouldn’t have gone into this decision process with my mind already made up.
The first realization helped me say that the loss wasn’t really my fault. The second realization showed me that it actually was.
Still, this episode served to help me a great deal in the following days. For instance, there was a hand I played in a casino cash game where I held an Ace Ten offsuit against a board that fell: 4 – 8 – A – A – Q. I bet the flop and got called. I bet the turn and got called. I bet the river and got raised. I thought for a moment, and folded my hand face up. My opponent was nice enough to show his Ace 8. Sure, it wasn’t that difficult of a laydown, but I was particularly happy that I hadn’t allowed myself to become attached to such a good looking hand. I was able to make an objective read of the situation and make the correct decision.
More importantly, and perhaps impressively, was a hand I played in the $300 event. Before the dinner break there were around 80 players remaining in the tournament. I had been cruising for most of the day but had suffered a series of rough beats that had moved my chip count from above average to incredibly low. I don’t want to get into too many details of the beats I took (there were a few 2-outers hit against me for a lot of chips), but the important thing to know is that with the blinds at 300-600 with a 100 ante I was sitting on only 4000 chips. I had been down to much less, but being the short-stack master you know and love I had managed to double up purely by stealing blinds. So anyway, there I was with 4000 chips on the brink of elimination. I had been card dead for the past hour and got excited when in middle position I looked down to find the Ace and 8 of hearts. Rather than simply throw all my chips into the pot with an over bet, I instead chose to raise only 2000 – half of my chips. The action moved to the button where a much bigger stack reraised another 4000. The players folded back to me and I went into the tank. This time I actually did consider the situation. Folding would leave me back on the short stack, calling could double me back up to a reasonable level. However, I imagined what hands the button might be holding. At the very best I could hope him to have an underpair – 6s or 7s – and take a coinflip. I didn’t think that to be the case though. More likely the button held a high pair or larger ace. After about twenty seconds of thought I tossed my hand into the muck. The player would later tell me that he had a big suited ace. Despite being low on chips, desperate to double up, and in possession of a decent hand I was able to objectify the situation and make the correct play. Two hands later I pushed all-in with King Jack and was called by a player holding 6c7c (wtf?). My hand held up – though it was ugly: he flopped a 6 and I turned a king – and I doubled up. I was able to steal blinds through pure aggression and maneuvered my way back up above the chip average. However, had I made the impulsive decision and called my ace-8 I would almost certainly have gone home before dinner, and out of the money.
So anyway, I’m tired of writing about poker. There were several interesting hands during the tournament but I don’t want this blog to become a poker hand recap website. I will say, however, that I actually LOL’d at the table when, despite being down to 20 players and competing for $35k, for the first time in my life I was priced into calling a player’s all-in from the big blind with 2-3 offsuit (amazingly, I didn’t win). Calling with 3-high on day one actually made it easier for me to call with jack-high at the final table. I mean, at least I didn’t have 3-high right?