| Game Type: | Limit |
| Buy-in: | $1,500 |
It's part and parcel of what I do these days - write - to spend a lot of time on poker databases, looking up players records. And I know it's wrong, but if I see that little gold icon, with the magic words "WSOP" in it, I think "real player".
So, William Hill decided to sponsor me on a one-off basis for the $1,500 NLH at the WSOP - my first WSOP outing. To those who play these things regularly, no big deal. To regular guys - and there are a whole lot of us - it's a big deal. I can't recall being so worked up about playing an event for ages. It was not even as if it was my money at stake - I was free-rolling. I'd been sponsored just once before - by Poker 425 at The Gutshot - and cashed, so felt I had not let my sponsor down, but this was different - this was the WSOP. Could I really be a "real player"? Against 871 runners? I think not.
First problem - game strategy. I gave much thought to this. Only 1,500 starting points. Hells bells, not much room for error there if your first Raise turns out to be a dud. So what to do? I like to see a lot of flops early - don't we all? But it's hard to mess about with only 1,500 chips. Perhaps I should nut up, sit rock like & hope a monster comes my way? Nah, lets go for it. You can't win by passing.
So I did, and as luck would have it, I caught two nice hands early, & my 1,500 was 2,700 before th end of Level 1. And as everyone else was pretty much stuck in the 1,000 - 2,000 range, the chance at last to mess about, pinch a few pots, bully a bit. It really is a different game when you have a bit of a stack advantage. To my immediate right was Carlo Citrone, of all people - all that way & end up sat next to a Geordie! Carlo was subdued, both with the cards, and vocally, though he was clearly card-dead. He'd had a terrible time in a final earlier in the WSOP when he'd had to put QQ down, then busted out when he ran into Aces, & I am not sure he'd got over it. I felt really sorry for him, usually he's so bubbly. But it was a fun table, & the banter was good. "Are you Paul Hogan" some wise guy said. Everyone laughed, I kept straight-faced. "Actually, no, he's my brother". End of laughter, till Carlo blew my cover. Damn that man, I could have got that one through.
Up to 3,500, & dammit, they broke the table. Ended up sat next to Erik Seidel. Don't know the guy, & he seemed very dull and quiet. He's probably an ace guy, but he kept very quiet, and I was too nervous to open up & do my "lets get the table dancing" act. So a solemn hour, but the cards were still running nicely for me, & when that table broke, I'd run my stack up to 9k, which was way above average. And I was taking advantage of my stack, too - gee, how much fun is a deep stack, eh?
Next table was the opposite. 7 Americans, an Aussie, a Canadian, & me, and the talk was thirteen to the dozen, & we were soon all on first name terms. I have a terrible habit of introducing myself to guys I don't know when I join a new table, & at first, they all looked at me gone out as I shook everyone's hand. "You do that to everyone partner?" drawled a huge American guy. ""Pretty well Sir, I'm an aristocrat, & it comes natural to us, we always shake commoners hands". For a moment - just one moment - they bought it, & the table went quiet. Canadian geezer says "oh yeah, you a Duke or something?". "Err, as it happens, yes. The Duke of, err, Hampstead" I stuttered, no idea where Hampstead came from. Canadian guy says "well I live in London, & there's no such Duke s'far as I know". Oops. "Well, we keep it quiet, gotta be careful of kidnapping & stuff" I weakly reply. But I'd blown it, & they knew I was at it, & soon they were addressing me as The Duke of England & we were all mates having a great laugh. And do you know, I completely lost all my nerves, I was playing great poker (by my standards), & the tables were dropping at an incredible rate. Not even dinner break yet, & 88 tables were down to 24, & I've got 19,000 chips, treble the average - how on earth did I accumulate so many? Then I hit a huge outdraw. I R with 99, Matey Boy - lairy Texan, RR's me, & I think I'm ahead, & I've got him well covered in chips, so I set him all-in. To my surprise he calls, & flips over TT. Yikes, that's half my stack gone. Damn damn damn, one single lapse of concentration, or poor judgment, & half those lovely chips are history. But a flop of 9-8-8 is dream-like, & the poor Texan is history. "sorry Buddy", I say, "No problem Duke" he says....
Then seat 1 passes pocket twos to a R, the flop comes A-A-2, & he curses at the lost opportunity. For "curse" read "f-word". And "f-word" = "f-bomb" in Vegas, which means a 10 minute ban. He argues, the TD stands firm, he's out here. 3 hands later, we are all messing about &, in American parlance, "busting your balls" - I think it kinda means taking the mickey - plenty of material with Yanks, a Canadian, an Aussie and a Duke all at the same table. I stick one into the Aussie, he fires back a beauty, the whole table crack up, I'm beat, I can't respond. "F** you" I say playfully, jabbing his shoulder playfully. And the moment the "f" left my lips - I knew what I'd done. The dealer aint said a word yet, but I jumped up, threw my hat on the table, & said "OK, you got me, 10 minutes in the sin-bin". Dealer says "sorry Duke - you gotta go". I say don't worry fella, I'm gone, & I apologise. The TD is summoned, I say "look fella, I'm not arguing, it was only in fun, but I ain't arguing". but the entire table argue my case - amazing, I was bowled over, but rules are rules, and I was insistent that I would not argue. I look at the button - damn, I'm BB next hand. But an incredible thing happened. First to act dwells up for 2 minutes, then passes. Next guy, the same. And again. And again. After the hand the TD says "well guys, that took 8 minutes - you gonna repeat that trick?". Yup, they say in unison. "Hey Duke, you're back in, now next time I won't be so lenient". Wow!
The tables continue to drop fast, & soon it's bubble time, (72 got paid) but I'm still in good shape, & I can hardly believe it - I'm gonna cash in my first WSOP! Just like a real player, eh?
Table move # 3 brings me to a very different table, all peace and quiet and deadly serious, and I don't know a soul. I decide not to disturb the calm. These guys don't know me, I've got chips, I can build a little here. Some sort of Asian-American looking guy keeps limping on my BB, then betting out on the flop. Hmm, let's sort HIM out. Next time on my BB, he limps again. How can I trap this wise guy? Flop comes K-3-3 - PING! That's it. Perfect. I'll represent the set. Check. He bets. I call. Turn is a nothing, but two hearts on the board now. OK, now's the time tikay, KILL. I Check, he bets, I RR big. Huh, that's got him. He looks at me kindly, smiles, says "all-in", & I gulp. Ahh, plan B. I dwell up for 30 seconds, say the usual - "guess your set beats my two pair" - and pass. Damn. I repeat the trick 3 rounds later. Same result. And that was how I met, & was completely run over, by Mr John Juanda. But I'll have him next time.....
My next table is a corker - Jac Arama, with a huge stack, & Marcel Luske, ditto. Plenty of loose chips there then. But for some reason known only to himself, Jac decides to take on Marcel at every opportunity. Crazy, just crazy - the two deep stacks, at it hammer & tongs. I keep looking at all Jac's juicy chips, all disappearing. "Leave some for me Jac", I think..... But no, & soon he had gone. He arrived with a shed load, & got rid of them all in dribs and drabs in 20 minutes flat.
By now, the blinds are biting, & I've got to play again. John Grice (MPower) is sweating me, as he did all comp, bless him, & Ian McDonald & Ralph Shalston spend a bit of time on the rail too. 7 short stacks, me below average after Mr Juanda helped himself to a generous chunk of them, & Marcel. Mr Hollandish Marcel is giving it the full singing, whistling, dancing & speech act, wonderful fun. John pulls me to one side. "Have you noticed, when Marcel jokes, he's at it, but when he's serious, he's got a hand?" Really? I actually know Marcel quite well, we've had dinner more times than enough, but he don't like being messed about at the table by anyone.
My BB, AQ. Marcel is giving it the Table Captain bit. "Gentleman, I tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna raise it up........" Pause for effect, as he counts out two stacks - "10,000". Hmm......He stares at me, then puts his shades on. I decide it's time to mess with him. I put MY shades on. That's a BAD thing, 'cos I can't see through the damn things, but he don't know that. He takes his shades off. I take mine off. He's still staring at me. "Don't do it Tony, don't do it". I stare at him still longer. It's all gone dead quiet now. "I tell you what I'm going to do Mr Luske. I'm going all-in". He glares at me, I mean GLARES. Oh shit, I think, striving to look as if I don't give a toss, when in fact I'm pooing myself. He stares for an age. Not a word. He aint laughing now....... "I call" he suddenly says. Oh shit, I think. On their backs, mine are over first, as they usually are, I can't do with that "no, YOU have to show first" kids stuff. He looks at them, then turns over....Q-9. WHOHOO!!! He's dominated, he does not improve, & I double through. Why did he call with Q-9 I wondered? He's deep-stacked, & if he thinks he's got 2 live cards I suppose it's not THAT bad a call. But I think the answer is that he had got every single Raise through, nobody had stood up to him. And he needed to show the table that he wont pass to a RR. Lucky tikay, or WHAT? Chest puffed out, I drag in a lovely pile of chips, just as the TD says "seat 9, you are moving". Damn, I just got Marcel where I want him.......(He eventually finished 10th, the best of 4 cashes he had in this years WSOP).
My next - and last as it happened - table saw me sit down with more complete strangers. Until I spotted Legato, who I play $500 & $1,000 SNG's with on Stars regularly. He's a Swede, I met him in Stockholm last year, & we've played together in literally hundreds of Stars SNG's. Good friend, such as you can be friends online. We chat away, & suddenly an Aussie guy booms "hey, it's Tikay isn't it?". I don't know any Aussie's, so I'm puzzled. "It's Wombat". WOMBAT? Wow, he ALSO plays the Stars SNG's with Legato & I. So there's a guy from England, one from Sweden, & one from Aussie, play each other every day online, & we all end up on the same table in Vegas. Spooky.
But there the fun ended, as the cards went away from me big time. 4 tables out, I'm sub-average with 15k, & I'm playing desperation poker all of a sudden. Well at least I'm used to it.
And the end was sudden. In the BB with AJ suited, there's no action until the SB puts a small R in. He's at it, I am certain, but I don't really wanna see a flop with AJ, so I move in, it's a handy pot with the blinds, his R, & the antes. And I am almost the same chips as him. He dwells for absolutely ever, so I fancy my hand now. But I do NOT want a call. "He says "I must be waaaaay behind", I say nothing. PLEASE don't call, I have a bad feeling about this. Why, oh why, did I move in? Only the second time all comp, & he's gonna do me. "I call" he says, & flips over A-4. ACE FOUR. What DID he think he was beating? But thank you kind sir, I think, you can make bad calls all day for me. Until the 4 rivers. And that was that.
But every day now I click on The Hendon Mob Database. Initial K. Country Great Britain. Kendall, Tony. And there is that little gold icon staring at me from the top of the page, "WSOP". So if anyone were to look me up, they'd think, "hey, Tikay's a REAL player". Ego and pride are funny things, eh?
So, William Hill decided to sponsor me on a one-off basis for the $1,500 NLH at the WSOP - my first WSOP outing. To those who play these things regularly, no big deal. To regular guys - and there are a whole lot of us - it's a big deal. I can't recall being so worked up about playing an event for ages. It was not even as if it was my money at stake - I was free-rolling. I'd been sponsored just once before - by Poker 425 at The Gutshot - and cashed, so felt I had not let my sponsor down, but this was different - this was the WSOP. Could I really be a "real player"? Against 871 runners? I think not.
First problem - game strategy. I gave much thought to this. Only 1,500 starting points. Hells bells, not much room for error there if your first Raise turns out to be a dud. So what to do? I like to see a lot of flops early - don't we all? But it's hard to mess about with only 1,500 chips. Perhaps I should nut up, sit rock like & hope a monster comes my way? Nah, lets go for it. You can't win by passing.
So I did, and as luck would have it, I caught two nice hands early, & my 1,500 was 2,700 before th end of Level 1. And as everyone else was pretty much stuck in the 1,000 - 2,000 range, the chance at last to mess about, pinch a few pots, bully a bit. It really is a different game when you have a bit of a stack advantage. To my immediate right was Carlo Citrone, of all people - all that way & end up sat next to a Geordie! Carlo was subdued, both with the cards, and vocally, though he was clearly card-dead. He'd had a terrible time in a final earlier in the WSOP when he'd had to put QQ down, then busted out when he ran into Aces, & I am not sure he'd got over it. I felt really sorry for him, usually he's so bubbly. But it was a fun table, & the banter was good. "Are you Paul Hogan" some wise guy said. Everyone laughed, I kept straight-faced. "Actually, no, he's my brother". End of laughter, till Carlo blew my cover. Damn that man, I could have got that one through.
Up to 3,500, & dammit, they broke the table. Ended up sat next to Erik Seidel. Don't know the guy, & he seemed very dull and quiet. He's probably an ace guy, but he kept very quiet, and I was too nervous to open up & do my "lets get the table dancing" act. So a solemn hour, but the cards were still running nicely for me, & when that table broke, I'd run my stack up to 9k, which was way above average. And I was taking advantage of my stack, too - gee, how much fun is a deep stack, eh?
Next table was the opposite. 7 Americans, an Aussie, a Canadian, & me, and the talk was thirteen to the dozen, & we were soon all on first name terms. I have a terrible habit of introducing myself to guys I don't know when I join a new table, & at first, they all looked at me gone out as I shook everyone's hand. "You do that to everyone partner?" drawled a huge American guy. ""Pretty well Sir, I'm an aristocrat, & it comes natural to us, we always shake commoners hands". For a moment - just one moment - they bought it, & the table went quiet. Canadian geezer says "oh yeah, you a Duke or something?". "Err, as it happens, yes. The Duke of, err, Hampstead" I stuttered, no idea where Hampstead came from. Canadian guy says "well I live in London, & there's no such Duke s'far as I know". Oops. "Well, we keep it quiet, gotta be careful of kidnapping & stuff" I weakly reply. But I'd blown it, & they knew I was at it, & soon they were addressing me as The Duke of England & we were all mates having a great laugh. And do you know, I completely lost all my nerves, I was playing great poker (by my standards), & the tables were dropping at an incredible rate. Not even dinner break yet, & 88 tables were down to 24, & I've got 19,000 chips, treble the average - how on earth did I accumulate so many? Then I hit a huge outdraw. I R with 99, Matey Boy - lairy Texan, RR's me, & I think I'm ahead, & I've got him well covered in chips, so I set him all-in. To my surprise he calls, & flips over TT. Yikes, that's half my stack gone. Damn damn damn, one single lapse of concentration, or poor judgment, & half those lovely chips are history. But a flop of 9-8-8 is dream-like, & the poor Texan is history. "sorry Buddy", I say, "No problem Duke" he says....
Then seat 1 passes pocket twos to a R, the flop comes A-A-2, & he curses at the lost opportunity. For "curse" read "f-word". And "f-word" = "f-bomb" in Vegas, which means a 10 minute ban. He argues, the TD stands firm, he's out here. 3 hands later, we are all messing about &, in American parlance, "busting your balls" - I think it kinda means taking the mickey - plenty of material with Yanks, a Canadian, an Aussie and a Duke all at the same table. I stick one into the Aussie, he fires back a beauty, the whole table crack up, I'm beat, I can't respond. "F** you" I say playfully, jabbing his shoulder playfully. And the moment the "f" left my lips - I knew what I'd done. The dealer aint said a word yet, but I jumped up, threw my hat on the table, & said "OK, you got me, 10 minutes in the sin-bin". Dealer says "sorry Duke - you gotta go". I say don't worry fella, I'm gone, & I apologise. The TD is summoned, I say "look fella, I'm not arguing, it was only in fun, but I ain't arguing". but the entire table argue my case - amazing, I was bowled over, but rules are rules, and I was insistent that I would not argue. I look at the button - damn, I'm BB next hand. But an incredible thing happened. First to act dwells up for 2 minutes, then passes. Next guy, the same. And again. And again. After the hand the TD says "well guys, that took 8 minutes - you gonna repeat that trick?". Yup, they say in unison. "Hey Duke, you're back in, now next time I won't be so lenient". Wow!
The tables continue to drop fast, & soon it's bubble time, (72 got paid) but I'm still in good shape, & I can hardly believe it - I'm gonna cash in my first WSOP! Just like a real player, eh?
Table move # 3 brings me to a very different table, all peace and quiet and deadly serious, and I don't know a soul. I decide not to disturb the calm. These guys don't know me, I've got chips, I can build a little here. Some sort of Asian-American looking guy keeps limping on my BB, then betting out on the flop. Hmm, let's sort HIM out. Next time on my BB, he limps again. How can I trap this wise guy? Flop comes K-3-3 - PING! That's it. Perfect. I'll represent the set. Check. He bets. I call. Turn is a nothing, but two hearts on the board now. OK, now's the time tikay, KILL. I Check, he bets, I RR big. Huh, that's got him. He looks at me kindly, smiles, says "all-in", & I gulp. Ahh, plan B. I dwell up for 30 seconds, say the usual - "guess your set beats my two pair" - and pass. Damn. I repeat the trick 3 rounds later. Same result. And that was how I met, & was completely run over, by Mr John Juanda. But I'll have him next time.....
My next table is a corker - Jac Arama, with a huge stack, & Marcel Luske, ditto. Plenty of loose chips there then. But for some reason known only to himself, Jac decides to take on Marcel at every opportunity. Crazy, just crazy - the two deep stacks, at it hammer & tongs. I keep looking at all Jac's juicy chips, all disappearing. "Leave some for me Jac", I think..... But no, & soon he had gone. He arrived with a shed load, & got rid of them all in dribs and drabs in 20 minutes flat.
By now, the blinds are biting, & I've got to play again. John Grice (MPower) is sweating me, as he did all comp, bless him, & Ian McDonald & Ralph Shalston spend a bit of time on the rail too. 7 short stacks, me below average after Mr Juanda helped himself to a generous chunk of them, & Marcel. Mr Hollandish Marcel is giving it the full singing, whistling, dancing & speech act, wonderful fun. John pulls me to one side. "Have you noticed, when Marcel jokes, he's at it, but when he's serious, he's got a hand?" Really? I actually know Marcel quite well, we've had dinner more times than enough, but he don't like being messed about at the table by anyone.
My BB, AQ. Marcel is giving it the Table Captain bit. "Gentleman, I tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna raise it up........" Pause for effect, as he counts out two stacks - "10,000". Hmm......He stares at me, then puts his shades on. I decide it's time to mess with him. I put MY shades on. That's a BAD thing, 'cos I can't see through the damn things, but he don't know that. He takes his shades off. I take mine off. He's still staring at me. "Don't do it Tony, don't do it". I stare at him still longer. It's all gone dead quiet now. "I tell you what I'm going to do Mr Luske. I'm going all-in". He glares at me, I mean GLARES. Oh shit, I think, striving to look as if I don't give a toss, when in fact I'm pooing myself. He stares for an age. Not a word. He aint laughing now....... "I call" he suddenly says. Oh shit, I think. On their backs, mine are over first, as they usually are, I can't do with that "no, YOU have to show first" kids stuff. He looks at them, then turns over....Q-9. WHOHOO!!! He's dominated, he does not improve, & I double through. Why did he call with Q-9 I wondered? He's deep-stacked, & if he thinks he's got 2 live cards I suppose it's not THAT bad a call. But I think the answer is that he had got every single Raise through, nobody had stood up to him. And he needed to show the table that he wont pass to a RR. Lucky tikay, or WHAT? Chest puffed out, I drag in a lovely pile of chips, just as the TD says "seat 9, you are moving". Damn, I just got Marcel where I want him.......(He eventually finished 10th, the best of 4 cashes he had in this years WSOP).
My next - and last as it happened - table saw me sit down with more complete strangers. Until I spotted Legato, who I play $500 & $1,000 SNG's with on Stars regularly. He's a Swede, I met him in Stockholm last year, & we've played together in literally hundreds of Stars SNG's. Good friend, such as you can be friends online. We chat away, & suddenly an Aussie guy booms "hey, it's Tikay isn't it?". I don't know any Aussie's, so I'm puzzled. "It's Wombat". WOMBAT? Wow, he ALSO plays the Stars SNG's with Legato & I. So there's a guy from England, one from Sweden, & one from Aussie, play each other every day online, & we all end up on the same table in Vegas. Spooky.
But there the fun ended, as the cards went away from me big time. 4 tables out, I'm sub-average with 15k, & I'm playing desperation poker all of a sudden. Well at least I'm used to it.
And the end was sudden. In the BB with AJ suited, there's no action until the SB puts a small R in. He's at it, I am certain, but I don't really wanna see a flop with AJ, so I move in, it's a handy pot with the blinds, his R, & the antes. And I am almost the same chips as him. He dwells for absolutely ever, so I fancy my hand now. But I do NOT want a call. "He says "I must be waaaaay behind", I say nothing. PLEASE don't call, I have a bad feeling about this. Why, oh why, did I move in? Only the second time all comp, & he's gonna do me. "I call" he says, & flips over A-4. ACE FOUR. What DID he think he was beating? But thank you kind sir, I think, you can make bad calls all day for me. Until the 4 rivers. And that was that.
But every day now I click on The Hendon Mob Database. Initial K. Country Great Britain. Kendall, Tony. And there is that little gold icon staring at me from the top of the page, "WSOP". So if anyone were to look me up, they'd think, "hey, Tikay's a REAL player". Ego and pride are funny things, eh?