So my main event experience came to end about 2 hours ago. I'd like to write a bit about the experience, though more about the emotions involved than about the specifics.
I remember getting emotional about busting the Monte Carlo a couple of months ago. I'm not talking waah waah crying emotional, just
upset emotional. When it hurts inside. This felt similar, but for different reasons.
This was my first main event, and the biggest shot I'd ever taken in a single tournament. My first time playing a tournament for actually life changing money. Money that could see you through decades, if you were careful with it. Even a mincash of $19k would be a decent score!
I've heard many times that for a poker professional, the day you bust the main event is the worst day of the year. I now know what they mean. Though I'm not sure how I feel about it right now. If you've never played it before it's difficult to describe. It really is the greatest tournament in the world. The most unbelievable value you could imagine. I played for almost 3 whole days - 26 hours of poker, and came across one or maybe two players that I felt were better than me, less than 5 professionals, and the most incredible mix of recreational and amateur players. All putting in $10,000 for this one tournament. I saw many hands that left me speechless, and for 2 days felt like it would be impossible for me to bust without having a ridiculous cooler or beat. The structure is so good that I was card dead for 3 days straight (except 2 or 3 key big hands) and I managed to be above 50bbs almost throughout. It was incredibly frustrating being so card dead in this tournament, but I never felt the pressure, and knew I just had to ride it out, remain patient and disciplined and I'd find a spot eventually.
I busted 4betting AKs to 1/4 of my stack, ready to call a shove, when the villain peeled and we saw a 755 flop with one of my suit, and I had just under pot and a half back so felt like I had no other option but to bet/call it off. He shoved over my bet and I sighed a long sigh. Recounted my chips just to check, put them in unwillingly, but I knew I had to. Priced in against any pair, and hoping to have him beat or crushed sometimes too. To my complete shock and horror he turned over 52s and I realised I was almost drawing dead. About 5% to win.
It took me a few seconds to even turn my hand over. I couldn't believe what he'd called me with preflop. I slowly turned my hand over. And the dealer dealt the turn which was a King, giving me two outs for a miraculous suckout. I wanted that third king so badly, it felt like it would be absolute justice. It didn't come and I realised I'd been knocked out. About 1000th place, out of 6300 runners.
I was in a daze, a trance. I said "nice hand mate" to the guy, and wished everyone good luck - not a single morsel in my body had the desire to say anything else. So important to exit in a classy way, regardless of absolutely everything else that may have happened. I didn't learn that overnight, but I'm proud that it's just not part of my character at all when at the start of this diary it was.
I walked around on my own for a bit. In a trance still. I felt incredibly upset. I had to find somewhere to sit. I wasn't going to cry but I just needed to sit down and be alone. I went to the pavilion room, jammed packed for 6 weeks straight and now absolutely deserted.
I posted on twitter, facebook and blonde the same sentence about my exit. Friends and people supporting me means so much to me.
Part of me wanted to just go back to the hotel room and be alone for the rest of the evening. I decided to wait 45 minutes until Mitch and Nick went on dinner break, talk to them, get my spirits back up and then go back.
I was alright. I felt over it. I could joke and laugh with them and hold my head high. I can take so many positives out of it. I played my best poker for 3 long tough days in the greatest tournament in the world. I'd given my backers a sweat. I'd seen first hand why people rave about this tournament. I had the experience to come back next year and know what to expect. I vowed to play it every year for as long as I was playing poker.
I also felt lucky that I'd had the chance to play in the first place. I know how many people back home wish they could have come to Vegas at all but couldn't. And many who were out here but couldn't afford the main. How can I feel down about anything really?
I'm going home on Saturday. I beat Vegas this time, not by much, but I beat it. As ever, a couple of cards away from a very successful trip, but can have no complaints. I love this place so much. I'll be back, I'll get em next time.
#lovethegame
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