June 25 2012, PokerNews Staff

This week’s PartyPoker Weekly has been prepared for your viewing pleasure so keep on reading to find out what is going on in the world of PartyPoker!

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Day 1

Sizing up the Table

I was the third player to arrive at my table, and as I handed over my identification to
the dealer for confirmation, I sized up the other two. One was a heavyset kid who looked
to be a few years younger than myself. On balance, younger players tend to be better at poker,
but there are plenty of exceptions to that rule, so he could go either way.

The other guy was a friendly-looking Canadian who was probably in his mid-30′s. His brother
and mother were with him, and he was taking pictures with them both and talking about how
he’d purchased new sunglasses just for the tournament. In other words, he was clearly an
amateur excited to be playing his first Main Event and looking to make the most of the experience.

On the one hand, that kind of excitement is what the Main Event is all about, and it’s great
to see a poker enthusiast realizing what’s probably long been a dream of his. I genuinely
wanted him to enjoy the experience, but I also wanted his chips. A guy who acts like that
is pretty much a lock to play too weakly for fear of being eliminated from the tournament.
Ironically, this actually makes him much more likely to be eliminated relatively early. Nobody
wants to get busted, but to do well, you must be willing to take risks.

This man took the seat immediately to my left and introduced himself as “Glen”.
We got to talking about women in poker and how few play the Main Event. He told me he’d wager
$10 to my $100 that the empty seat to his left would be filled by a woman, and I instantly
agreed, since the true odds are worse than 20:1. Sure enough, a scruffy-looking guy soon
took the seat. “Looks like a man to me, but we can ask him if you want,” I told
Glen with a smile. He asked whether I preferred Canadian or US money but didn’t immediately
pay me. I figured he was probably good for it, but even if he wasn’t, it wasn’t worth $10
to antagonize the player on my left, so I decided not to pester him just yet.

“Brokos?” I thought I heard someone mutter my name. I looked up and saw the heavyset
early arrival to the table throw up his hands in frustration. “Dammit! I knew I recognized
that voice! Just my luck to get seated with you.”

That answered a lot of questions about this kid, who introduced himself as Brian. Given
that he recognized my voice but not the name of my blog, which I was wearing on a patch on
my shirt, he’d surely seen some of my training videos. I thought back to my first time at
the WSOP, how I dreaded ending up at a table with a pro I recognized from TV or the high
stakes internet games.

Now it seemed that I was this player for Brian. That could play out one of two ways. Maybe
he would be intimidated and stay out of my way, or maybe he would expect me to think that
and instead resolve not to be bullied. This latter was my own strategy back when I was in
his situation, and I expected the more well-known players to see me as too scared to bluff
them. I decided I would just have to wait and see how this plays out.

Living the Dream

About an hour and a half into the tournament, I still had close to the 30K chips with which
I started, but Glen had already lost nearly half of his and was clearly a bit distraught
by that. I was second to act and looked down at a pair of Aces. I raised to 300, and Glen
quickly re-raised to 900.

This is where his amateur status became a liability for him. I was very comfortable making
two assumptions about him: he’s never building a big pot against an early position raiser
without a strong hand, and he’s going to have trouble letting go of a strong hand even in
situations where a better player might determine that he’s beat. Thus, there was no need
for dissimulation or trapping. I re-raised him again, making it 2,500 to go. He called.

The flop came 556, but I wasn’t worried because there was no way Glen would have made this
play with a 5 in his hand. I expected him to have either a pair of Kings or Queens or at
the very last an Ace and a King. I checked the flop, figuring that if he had a big pair of
his own I would get his stack no matter what, and if he had AK I wanted to give him a chance
to bluff or make a pair on the turn.

He bet 1,200, which was very small relative to the size of the pot, but I’d seen him do
this before with hands that he wasn’t going to fold. In fact it was good for me because now
I could check-raise and it would like I was just bluffing against his weak-looking bet. I
raised it to 5,025, he quickly moved all-in for about 15,000, and I called just as quickly.
Sure enough, he had Kings and I eliminated him from the tournament.

He took it well but was clearly heart-broken, and with good reason. His WSOP dreams were
over almost before they started, all because of a bit of bad luck. I didn’t have the heart
to remind him about the $10 as he slunk away from the table.

Eliminating Glen proved to be a mixed blessing. I was glad to have his chips, of course,
but the player who took his seat brought about 50,000 chips with him, and the quiet confidence
with which he carried himself suggested that he’d earned them through tough play. Sure enough,
he was extremely good, and having him act immediately after me proved to be a huge thorn
in my side for the rest of the day. I went into the first break feeling good with nearly
45K chips.

When we returned, the scruffy guy whose appearance had nearly won me $10 introduced himself. “Hi
everyone. My name is Matt, and I just want you all to know that it’s an honor to play with
you. This is a dream come true for me. I’m hoping my kids will get a chance to see me on
TV.”

We all wished him luck, and his little soliloquy put the whole table in a friendly mood.
Everyone even folded to him in his big blind, leading Brian to attempt the same thing when
he was in the blind the next hand. “Hey everyone, my name’s Brian, I’m just a kid from
New Jersey,” he joked with a broad smile.

“That’s not going to win you any sympathy,” the dealer quipped back.

Matt’s dreams were crushed nearly as quickly as Glen’s. He slowly lost about 2/3 of his
chips, bluffed away most of the rest, and then got all in as a small favorite with his last
1,200, only to see his opponent flop two pair and eliminate him from the tournament.

He took it with class, shaking everyone’s hand, but looked to be on the verge of tears.
And why not? He’d probably dreamed about this for years and looked forward to it for weeks
if not months. He’d probably bragged to his friends and family and fantasized about being
on TV. He probably had a hotel room booked at least until mid-week. He came ready to play
for days, but he was done in three hours.

For me, the second level of the tournament was mediocre. I never got much in the way of
cards, and most of my attempts at stealing pots failed, so I went into the break with 36K,
down from the 45K I’d had at the first break.

The one interesting hand I did play began with a player in middle position, who’d already
established a history of bouts of aggression in poorly chosen post-flop spots, open limped.
I held 3[diamond 2 on the Button and figured that with deep stacks and a spewy player
already in the pot, it was worth a limp, so I called. The SB completed and the BB checked.

The flop came A Q 5, giving me a gutshot and a backdoor flush draw-
hardly a monster, but there’s more than one way to skin a fish. The blinds checked to the
aggressive player, who lived up to his reputation by firing about half-pot. I called planning
to bet any turn if he checked or raise if he bet. The turn was an off-suit 9, and he checked
and folded to a half-pot bet.

It was a small pot that I’d stolen, but it did a lot for my confidence. Although I’d accumulated
a lot of chips early, skill had little to do with it. I’d coolered the poor sap on my left,
who never had a chance of surviving that hand. This time I’d made a good read and executed
a multi-street plan to steal the pot. Now that’s poker.

Hit and Miss

I got off to a good start in Level 3, winning a couple of smallish pots with the best hand.
Then I raised K J from the CO. The tough player on my left, whom I later learned
was named Mike, called, as did a loose French player who was in the big blind.

The flop came Q 8 5, and the BB checked. With a wet flop, a tough
player on my left, and a loose player in the BB, this isn’t a spot where I’d make a continuation
with just anything. Given that I had a flush draw and, depending on what called me, two live
overcards, I bet anyway. They both called.

The turn brought the Ad. The BB checked, and I bet about two-thirds of the pot again. Of
course making a flush would have been ideal, but picking up a gutshot and a good scare card
made for about the best semi-bluffing opportunity I could have asked for. Mike called and
the BB folded.

All of my draws bricked on the 9c river. Mike obviously had a hand of some sort, and given
how many draws missed, I was doubtful about my ability to get him off of a pair with a third
barrel, so I checked. He made a sizable bet which I briefly considered raising but then put
my tail between my legs and folded. It was only Day 1, and there would be better spots.

A few hands later, I was in the big blind when a player in the CO made a small raise to
750. As he did so, I noticed a bit of hesitation, like he was still deciding whether he wanted
to raise before he dropped the chips in the pot.

Another player called the raise, and I looked down at QJ offsuit. I considered re-raising
to steal the pot then and there, but with this hand, I preferred to see the flop and attack
my opponent’s perceived weakness then. The flop came J74 with two clubs. Since I had top
pair and also the Q, I felt pretty good about my hand and called a bet from the pre-flop
raiser after the other player folded.

The turn was the King of spades, adding a possible spade draw to the club draw that was
present on the flop. It wasn’t great for me, since my opponent could have made a pair of
Kings, but this could also look to him like a good card to bluff, and there were a lot of
draws out there that he could be on. I checked, and he bet 3,600 into a pot of 5,600, leaving
about 10K more in his stack. After a lot of thought and a long stare-down, I put him all
in.

He quickly called and turned over a pair of Aces. I’d been bamboozled. I thought I’d spotted
weakness, but in all likelihood the hesitation I saw had been an act to induce me to do exactly
what I did. I felt pretty stupid.

The last laugh was mine, though, because the river was a Q, giving me two pair and eliminating
my opponent from the tournament. He frowned but wished me well as he made his departure.
I didn’t feel good about it, but I was back at 45K chips for the dinner break.

Feelin’ Alright

Knowing that I played badly throws me off of my game a lot more than bad luck these days,
and I was in need of a pick-me-up. Thankfully it came during level 4, when I played some
of the best poker I ever have and got a much needed confidence boost.

In the first notable hand, I raised with A9 against the very loose French player in the
big blind. He called, and we saw a Q43 flop. This is a decent flop to bluff, but I was pretty
sure my Ace-high was the best hand, so I just checked. The turn paired my 9, and Frenchy
checked again. I made a small bet of barely 1/3 of the pot, trying to bait him since I suspected
he was pretty weak. He called.

The river was a T, so my 9′s were now the third highest pair on the board. I was still confident
they were good, though, so I bet a little over half pot. Frenchy thought for a minute and
called, only to muck when he saw my hand.

In the very next hand, I raised to 800 with AT. Mike called from my immediate
left, and then Brian, who had position on us both, re-raised to 3,100. Remember when I was
saying that Brian might try play the part of the scared novice but actually come after me
hard? Well this was a good spot for him to try it, and I resolved to put him to the test.
After some thought, I four-bet to 8,100.

He fiddled with his chips a bit and then called. I wasn’t sure what to make of the call.
It’s possible that he was playing possum with a strong hand, but he also could have called
with something weaker just because he had position and was getting decent odds.

The flop came KK4, all black cards, so no help for me. There was now more than 17,000 in
the pot and about 40,000 in Brian’s stack. I didn’t expect him to fold anything good, but
there was always the chance that he’d called with a weakish hand and now had nothing. I decided
to follow up my bluff with one more small bet, just in case he was weak. I bet 7,000, and
after an agonizing two minutes, he folded. I breathed a sigh of relief as I raked in the
pot.

I went into the final break feeling good with 60K chips. It was nearly 11PM, and the sun
had finally set. It was a mild and wet week in Las Vegas, a radical departure from the scorching
dry weather I remembered from previous years. It wasn’t raining during the break, though,
and the air was positively delightful outside.

A cool, relaxing evening was just what I needed, because I have a history of making mistakes
during the last level of the day. I’m not really a night owl, and especially having come
from the east coast, I’m not at my best after midnight. I resolved to take it easy, and indeed
I managed to restrain myself from playing hardly at all.

We got our last new player at the table, a gentleman in his late 50′s with a drawl that
suggested he might be from Wyoming or Montana. The dealer said to him, “Your wife just
told me that I better not give you a bad beat or she’ll shoot me.”

The player grinned widely. “She’s got the gun, too. In fact she’s got seven of ‘em.”

This, too, was the banter of an amateur way too invested in not getting eliminated from
the tournament. His stack was dwindling, and I could tell that he was reluctant to put much
money in the pot unless he was confident he had the best hand.

Despite my general pledge to behave, I couldn’t resist taking a shot at him. I was in early
position with 64 offsuit, but I raised to 1,000 anyway since this guy was in the big blind.
He called, and we saw an AAT flop. He checked, and rather than pull the trigger on my bluff
right away, I checked as well. This is a flop where I’d check quite a lot of good hands,
and besides I expected my opponent to play honestly on the turn. If he had nothing, he’d
check again and I could steal it then. If he had something, he’d bet and I’d have saved myself
some chips.

The turn was another T. He checked, and now I bet 900. To be honest, this bet doesn’t make
a lot of sense. There are very few hands that I would play this way. Even if my opponent
recognized that, though, I didn’t think he’d do anything about it, and indeed he folded without
much thought.

I played just one other hand the whole level, winning that one as well, and finished the
day with 60K. That put me well ahead of the average, which was somewhere between 40-45K.

Day 2

My First Table

I recognized two of the eight other players at my starting table. One was Russel Rosenblum,
a lawyer who made the final table of the WSOP Main Event in 2002. He and I actually played
together on Day 6 last year, and while I’d hoped he would be an amateur with little experience,
he actually played quite well.

The other was Sorel Mizzi, whom I’d played with online a few times but never in person.
Sorel’s name was familiar for two reasons: (1) he won Bluff magazines “Player
of the Year” award last year, and (2) he was banned from one of the major online poker
sites for taking over a friend’s account deep in an online tournament, though it later came
out that he continued to play on that site, circumventing the ban by using the accounts of
other friends.

One other player at the table, a Spaniard, quickly made himself known by walking around
the table and introducing himself to each of us: “Hello, I am Andres, your friendly
neighborhood short stack. Please be kind to me.” By his cards he kept one of those little
noisemakers consisting of two wooden hands that could be made to clap by shaking the handle
back and forth. When someone asked him about it, he laughed it off like it was just some
silly thing a friend had given him, but I noted that he made a little ritual of tapping his
cards with it several times before looking at them.

We played a few hands without anything of note happening, and then Andres limped into the
pot for 500. The action folded to me, and I raised to 2,000 with A9 suited. Much to my chagrin,
a short-stacked player behind me announced “All in.” Andres looked pained for a
moment and then folded.

It was somewhat close given the odds I was getting, but I opted to call, in part to send
a message that I wouldn’t give up easily. My opponent had a pair of Jacks, but I flopped
a flush draw and rivered a flush to eliminate him.

Andres smiled broadly and spoke directly to his clapper: “I knew it! I knew it! I ask
the clapper, and it say, ‘Go on, Andres. Let them boolly you. Wait for better time.’” Then
he turned to the dealer, a Mexican man named Raul, and smiled. “You and I, Raul, we
are disconnected! Send better cards here, please!” Raul just laughed.

My Second Table

Our table broke early, which was a welcome development, but my new table was nothing to
sneeze at either. A young Russian across the table from me saw my PokerStars Team Online
patch and introduced himself as Gosudiac, another regular in the PokerStars 5/10 full-ring
games. It was interesting to meet in person a guy I’d played thousands of hands with online,
but I would have much preferred to do it away from the table.

In one of my first big pots at this table, the BB was sitting out, and I was in the SB with
AKs. The UTG player opened, I 3-bet, he 4-bet, and while I’m not automatically looking to
get AK all-in against a deep-stacked UTG raiser on Day 2 of the Main Event, this was an easy
shove. The absent BB just made his range and the ranges he’d expect me to have that much
wider. He folded quickly.

I even got the best of Gosudiac in one good-sized pot. He raised UTG and got one call, and
then the action was on me holding 43s on the Button. I called, the SB folded, and the BB
called.

The flop came A29 with one of my suit, giving me a gutshot and a backdoor flush draw, my
favorite floating hand. Gosudiac bet about half the pot, and the next player folded. Weaker
players tend not to bluff into multiple opponents, but I knew that this guy was not afraid
to take an edge where he saw one, and even with four to the flop this is a good board for
an early position raiser to continuation bet. I called, and the big blind folded.

The turn was an 8, putting a flush draw out there but not mine. Gosudiac checked, and I
bet a third of the pot. Such a bet needs to succeed only one time in four, which I was sure
it would, so I wasn’t nervous about betting per se.

I was, however, nervous about my opponent’s lupine stare. I don’t like playing live poker
with these young Russians because a) they’re good and b) they look intimidating as hell.
Gosudiac tilted his head down and then peered up at me fiercely through shaggy bangs, resembling
nothing so much as a werewolf. I did my best to keep my cool, and eventually he folded.

The biggest pot I’d won to date began when a Scandinavian on my right opened the pot. I
called with K J in the CO, and both blinds called. The flop came A 6
5, giving me a flush draw. They all checked to me, so I bet 3K into a 9K pot. No one
was folding an Ace, and if they didn’t have an Ace, then they were welcome to call, because
bigger barrels were coming whether I got there or not. The blinds folded and the pre-flop
raiser called.

The turn was the 7s. He checked, I bet 10K, and he called.

I couldn’t have asked for a better river than the Ac. I didn’t expect my opponent to play
Aces up or a set this way on the flop and turn, but until now there was a chance he had top
pair and the nut flush draw. The river gave me the nut flush while at the same time making
it harder for him to get away from a bare Ace or even a big pair, and despite the pair on
the board I didn’t think there was any chance he had a full house. I bet 30K and he paid
it off, looking disgusted when I showed my flush. 

It Should Be Against the Law to Run That Good

The player on my left was a Frenchman named Ilan Boubli who called way too many raises and
was generally the weakest player at the table. I was dealt a pair of 3′s in late position,
and with blinds of 400/800 with a 100 ante, I raised to 2,200. Ilan quickly called behind
me. The player in the big blind, who’d been quietly chipping up with very few showdowns and
seemed pretty good, re-raised to 6,800. Given that I’d been opening a lot and Ilan was calling
with all sorts of weak hands, it was a good spot for him to squeeze.

Online I’d probably just fold anyway. With small pairs I’m generally looking either to steal
the blinds or to see the flop cheaply and then not put more money in the pot unless I make
a set. In live play, however, the added information available through tells makes it a little
more feasible to call and play after the flop, which is what I did.

Ilan quickly folded behind me, so it was just the two of us to the flop, which was 742,
all different suits. Of course I would have preferred to see a 3, but all things considered
this was a good flop. He bet 7,500 and I called, expecting to determine on the turn whether
my hand was good.

The turn was another 4, and he checked. At this point the pot was big, containing nearly
as many chips as he had remaining in his stack, so I didn’t expect that he’d get too tricky
here. With a good draw or a vulnerable pair, I’d expect him to bet again. This was either
an elaborate trap with a really big pair or he was giving up.

The problem for me was that my own hand was very vulnerable and I didn’t want to see the
river. It could easily pair my opponent and cost me a large pot, and it just might be a scary
card like an Ace for my opponent to bluff. I settled on making a small bet of 9,000, less
than 1/3 of the pot but about 1/4 of my opponent’s remaining chips. I didn’t expect that
he’d ever fold a better hand, but I just wanted to take the pot now.

After some thought, my opponent moved all in for 36,500. This is another spot that I’d never
put myself in online, betting without a plan for what I’d do if my opponent raised. In a
live game, though, I have the added option of staring him down. I stared intently at him
for a good three minutes not even thinking about anything in particular but just watching
him and letting him sweat for a bit and trying to see what kind of a feel I could get from
him.

When I decided that he’d basted in his own perspiration for long enough, I reached towards
my chips and watched again for a reaction. He blinked and turned towards me a bit. That felt
weak, but it wasn’t decisive, so I just made a note of it. Never taking my eyes off of him,
I confirmed with the dealer the amount I would need to call. My opponent swallowed. I counted
out the appropriate number of chips but held them in my hand, starting to lean towards a
call but not having made up my mind yet. He blinked again and looked uncomfortable. I pushed
the chips into the pot.

He sighed and tapped the table. “Nice call.” He turned over Ace-Queen, and then
the dealer turned over the river card, and that was a Queen, so then I ended up losing the
pot. I acknowledged my feelings of disappointment but tried not to display them as I paid
him his chips. I knew that I’d had my share of luck to get to this point in the tournament.

While this player was still stacking his newly won chips, three uniformed security officers
walked up to him. Two of them stood back, flanking a third who tapped him on the shoulder.
“Finish stacking your chips and then we need to ask you a few questions, sir.”

Naturally the whole table was staring at this scene trying to figure out what’s going on.
The player in question looked totally nonplussed, though. He stacked his chips and then left
calmly with them. “That beat was so bad it was criminal!” I quipped after he was gone, earning
me a few groans from my tablemates.

The guy returned after just two hands and seemed unperturbed. Curious about what was going
on, I said to him, “I wish they’d come a hand earlier.” He just laughed. I heard the player
next to him asking him what happened, and he said it was something to do with a friend of
his and that everything was fine. I never did figure out what exactly it was all about, but
I must admit that some of piece of me was hoping that he’d been caught cheating and that
I’d somehow be entitled to a refund on the chips I’d just lost to him.

The Poisson

My next big confrontation was with Ilan, the aforementioned French player on my left. Blinds
were 500/1000 with a 100 ante, and a player in late position raised to 2,500. I held a pair
of 7′s in the SB and considered both re-raising and calling. Ultimately, I decided to call
in part because I knew Ilan was very likely to call as well. Considered him the weakest player
at the table, I was eager to get into pots with him.

I called, and Ilan actually re-raised, tossing 11K in chips into the pot and leaving only
about 15K in his stack. The original raiser folded, and I looked over at Ilan. I was pretty
sure I was going to fold, since he didn’t re-raise too often, but one of the things I’m learning
about live poker is that it never hurts to take a few seconds to think and look at your opponent.

Another thing I’m learning is that most people are decent at maintaining a poker face but
will usually give something away if you can get them to talk or move, anything to get them
out of their comfort zone. Ilan could tell that I was staring him down, and presumably to
avoid giving anything away, went back to the movie he was watching on his iPad. I could see
perfectly well that he was innocently watching a movie, but I wanted to get a reaction from
him, so I told him, “You need to put that away.”

He removed his headphones and looked up at me. “What?”

“You can’t be on your computer during the hand.”

He sneered as only a Frenchman can sneer. “Whatchu going to do? Time.”

“You’re calling time on me?”

“Yes. Time.”

“OK. Put the computer away.” He made a point of putting his headphones back on and pressing
play. I looked over at the dealer. Not only was she doing nothing to enforce this rule, but
she also hadn’t called for a floorperson to put a clock me.

By this point I knew I was going to fold. If Ilan were bluffing, he wouldn’t risk antagonizing
me like this. I believed he was genuinely upset at me but also trying to bait me into a call.

Now, though, I was upset that the dealer wasn’t enforcing the rules. As much as I enjoy
being able to listen to music and send tweets from the table, I’m very concerned about the
potential for cheating and would prefer that devices not be allowed at the table at all.
At the very least, I’m going to insist on the current rule being enforced.

“Player has called time,” I informed her.

She turned to another dealer and asked, “Am I supposed to call the floor if a player has
asked for time?”

The floor finally got called and came over. I informed her that I twice asked this player
to stop using his computer during the hand. She ignored me and started telling him that he
would have 70 seconds to act.

“Time was called on me,” I told her.

“OK then you have 70 seconds to act.”

“Are you going to do anything about the computer?”

“First you need to act on your hand.” I folded without a second’s thought.

“You can’t be on your computer or phone while you have a live hand,” she informed him and
walked away.

Two hands later I got black Queens in the CO and opened with a raise to 2,600. I was 110%
sure that Ilan would at least call. He angrily threw 7,500 chips into the pot. The blinds
folded, and after a cursory glance at his stack, which contained about 35K more, I shoved
a stack of orange into the pot. He snap-called and turned over TT like it was the nuts, which
it pretty much was in that spot. I think there’s a legitimate chance that his angry chip
tossing was an act and that he thought he was baiting me.

The dealer went to deal the flop, and there was the T in the door. The other two cards
were also clubs, so I had a lot of outs, but none of them got there.

I calmly counted out an appropriate number of chips and passed them to him. Losing this
pot was be frustrating, but I knew it was important not to let that frustration bubble over
and affect how I would play going forwards. Given our recent history, I expected Ilan to
take special delight in beating me and maybe even try to needle me about it.

Online, it’s easy to treat your opponents as mere pixels on a screen. In a casino, you see,
smell, and hear your opponents. When you lose a pot, you have to watch the guy stack your
chips, and then you have to sit there next to him and resist the urge to pound that smirk
off of his face and not let him get under your skin so that you can continue to make good
decisions. To his credit, he accepted the win graciously and didn’t gloat or rub it in.

My Last Mistake of the Night

Next orbit, I got K Q UTG, which I consider a borderline open from such
an early position. I ought to have a policy of not playing borderline hands right after losing
a big pot, even if I don’t feel frustrated. In part because the player in the big blind had
made clear that he respected and feared me, I chose to raise it anyway. Everyone else folded,
and the BB called.

The flop was K T 5. I bet a little over half the pot, and he
called.

The turn was the 7s, and he checked. Given my read that he feared me, I shouldn’t have expected
him to call a big bet with many hands worse than mine. I think that if I were at my best,
I would have realized that and checked. Instead, I bet 9,000. It was a mistake I didn’t even
realize I was making because I didn’t realize that I wasn’t in the best mindset.

He raised to 25,000 with about 30,000 still in his stack. I figured my pair was probably
no good, but I decided to call because of my flush draw. This may have been a second mistake,
since even getting a diamond on the river wouldn’t guarantee me a win. As soon as I called,
the BB announced, “All in blind”.

Thankfully the river was the 7 of clubs, so I missed my flush. I still took my time to be
sure he wasn’t bluffing. I talked through the hand and asked him a few questions, which he
actually answered. His willingness to talk helped to convince me he was strong, and I folded.
He never showed his hand, but he told me later that he flopped the nuts, which I believe.

I have a harder time letting go of a bad play that I’ve made than letting go of a bit of
bad luck. As it happened, this same opponent actually taught me a little something to help
here. He played a hand badly, and after kicking himself for a few minutes, he said, “May
it be my last mistake of the day.” I liked that and repeated it with a smile.

Just before the end of the night, I picked up Aces in the SB with a lot of action in front
of me. Blinds were 600/1,200/200. UTG opened for 3,000, got one call, and then an older player
who hadn’t been too active re-raised to 8,000.

Remember when I said that I wasn’t always at my sharpest during the last level of the night?
I misread the action as a raise and two calls and raised to just 13,500. The first two players
got out and the three-better called me.

Thankfully we got a low, innocuous 544 flop. I checked and he made a big, pot committing
bet, so I just shoved the rest of my stack in. He snap-called with Tens and my Aces held
up to get me back above the average chip count. I finished the day with 137,900 chips, more
than twice what I start ***a***ed with a ***pd***nd a bit more than the average, which was around 110K. All
in all, it was a good day.