Gray-haired poker TRs: Living the WSOP dream

At the age of 62 (AARP members unite!), I have decided that I will write a trip report for my 2024 trek to the World Series of Poker. Not exactly “Stop the Presses” news, although maybe an old-man poker TR from a former sportswriter turned entrepreneur/investor is somewhat unique. This trip report proclamation and five nickels will get me a quarter. I get it. Lots of people promise/start trip reports and then never follow through (blasted). You don’t know me, so there is no reason for you to believe I will actually deliver. So, I will put some skin in the game to show I can be trusted to deliver on my promise. Before I start my 2024 trip report in this thread, I will do a trip report on my first ever 2019 12-day trip to the WSOP (when I was 57 years old and a bit less gray than I am today) based upon old notes I have kept and memories I recall (memory loss is not an issue for me so far, wait, did I already say that?). I did not write a trip report at the time, so this is new content. Call my 2019 long-after-the-fact walk down memory lane on 2+2 a down payment from me in return for your anticipation of and attention to my 2024 trip report.

2019 World Series of Poker: I have arrived, May 29 Getting the lay of the land; eyeballing Negreanu, Seidel and Lamb; trip down memory lane to Circus Circus; registration line goes further than the eye can see; practicing my poker face. I’m going through airport security with money split up in an array of different places. A couple grand in my wallet, a stash buried at the bottom of my back pack, some more hidden … none of anyone’s damn business. Good news is, stacks of green paper do not set off alarm bells at the airport security X-ray machine. TSA is my friend. I’m just a harmless looking old guy. Of late, people have started holding doors open for me at restaurants, banks, etc. Young kids who don’t know me have started calling me “Sir.” As for the cash, I’m not a drug dealer trying to launder bricks of cash. I’m not part of a card counting team bringing in heaps of cash to beat the blackjack tables when the count is juicy. Nor am I a beard acting as a front for a sports betting syndicate with large bundles of cash to get in action at the sports books in town. I have less than the $10,000 trigger that will get me jammed up by security, but more than I’d normally feel comfortable carrying. I’m a wannabe poker player headed to the World Series of Poker. I’m about to pop my WSOP cherry. Playing it somewhat safe, I’ve got only part of my tourney bankroll on me. The rest is in a big-named bank with branches in both my hometown and Las Vegas. I’ll hit the Vegas branch halfway through my stay. While I’d like to believe I will make a deposit at that time, poker gravity/reality says I will be asking for a withdrawal slip. It’s the direction money flows in Sin City. Another kid, another dr---, scratch that. I haven’t been a kid for a long time. Another gray-haired guy, another dream. As poker crushers have gotten younger the last couple of decades+, I am swimming against the current. I am 57 years old, although I’d like to believe I am 57 years young. Maybe my mirror is foggy. I guess I’m here to find out. But if you take a look at me, I look more like a guy who will split a pair of 3s at the Blackjack table, and less like someone who will check raise on the river with nothing but a strong sense of imagination underneath his card protector in a poker tournament. My flight lands in Las Vegas from Chicago. I don’t have a terribly wide-ranging itinerary in mind. I’m here to play poker. Nothing else. After I get my suitcase, I go to pick up my car rental (very inexpensive) and I drive to the Signature where I will be staying. I booked my hotel through Airbnb, which means no resort fee and no parking fees. An early win. Even so, the rates are somewhat more than might be ideal if I were hyper focused on ROI. My approach is this is a poker trip, but I want some niceties. I view this trip as I would if you could buy your way into Wimbledon or The Masters. Here at the WSOP, I will be playing in the same tournament as the best players in the world which I find cool and, surprisingly, not intimidating. Plus, unlike Wimbledon or The Masters I actually have a puncher’s chance if I catch a raging-hot deck. In Wimbledon, I would lose 6-0, 6-0, 6-0 to a qualifier. Every day of the week and twice on Sunday. At the Masters I would finish so many shots behind the last-place finisher that an accounting firm would be needed to tally how many shots back I’d be. But at the WSOP, if I get AA vs KK or if I flop the world in a big-blind special I am going to see a whole bunch of chips come my way against even the best players in the world. Yes, I know those lightning-in-a-bottle hands are not sustainable, but you get the point. Amateurs can go on epic runs in poker on occasion in ways not possible in other professional sports. I arrive at the Signature. Check in is easy. I get to my room/mini suite and make sure that the promised refrigerator and safe are in fact in place as advertised. They are. The accommodations are very nice. I don’t bother to unpack. I head back downstairs, have my car brought out of (free) parking, I tip the attendant and I head to a nearby grocery store. I load up on basics: bread, peanut butter, jelly, lunch meats, drinks, chips, etc. While I’m not averse to paying extra for a nice room, I see no point in paying the thumb-on-the-scale, absurd prices that I have heard get charged for food at the RIO during the WSOP. Included in my suitcase back at the hotel are a backpack, a thermal bag and ice packs to keep snacks and lunch fresh throughout the poker tourney days and nights. If I make dinner breaks, I am mostly an Earl of Sandwich type of guy. I drive back to the Signature, unload the groceries, and now it’s time to head over to the Rio. I figure out how to get to the giant (free) parking lot in the back. I head in and feel like an excited tourist (try not to show it, try not to show it) as I see the WSOP branding on the steps and entrance. A few weeks earlier I had made a reservation at an upscale restaurant for tonight figuring I wouldn’t have a chance to do so during the rest of my stay, but a few days ago I had a change of heart and canceled the reservation. I figured my time tonight would be better spent getting the lay of the land at the Rio. Find out where the bathrooms are, get an idea where the different ballrooms are in relation to each other, etc. I wander around a bunch, see where everything is, marvel at the vastness of the ballrooms which for the time being are almost entirely empty. I am pretty content to walk around, look at stuff. Walk around some more, look at more stuff. At this point, I figure it’s time to get signed up. I ask a WSOP employee where to go and he tells me where to go to sign up for a Caesars Rewards Card, which will let me buy into tournaments, as well as where to go to buy in to the actual tournaments. The line for the Rewards Card is surprisingly short and fast moving. Maybe 15-20 minutes. Then I see a line that goes on and on and on and on to buy in to tomorrow’s initial flight for the Big 50. I know from Two Plus Two that it is more optimal to get in line late at night when there shouldn’t be as many people. I figure I’ll come back later when the line is shorter. Instead, I find out where the $10,000 Super Turbo Bounty No Limit Hold’em tournament is being played and I head over to gawk. The field seems pretty small and the people watching behind the ropes are not especially numerous. Either people aren’t in town yet, or those that are can all be found in the massive line to buy in to tomorrow’s event. I see Erik Seidel, Daniel Negreanu and Ben Lamb playing in the high roller event, but I’ve never been much of a celebrity gazer. When I was a kid, everyone knew I was a big sports fan, so people were constantly bringing me autographs from famous athletes. I’d politely thank them, but I was thinking, “It’s a piece of paper with a name scribbled on it. And it’s not a check. What the heck am I supposed to do with it?” I remember once, my dad called me. He said he was at his bank and he had someone who wanted to say hi. Next thing I know I hear a man say, “Hi, I’m Ernie Banks, how are you doing today?” The thought going through my mind was, “I’d love to see Ernie Banks perform on the baseball diamond, but what am I supposed to talk to him about?” Later that night at dinner my dad said, “I thought you’d be more excited to talk to Ernie Banks.” Celebrities just aren’t my thing. I watched Seidel, Negreanu, Lamb and others for about five minutes, but you can’t see the cards from behind the ropes so the novelty wore off fast. Turns out that those five minutes would be relevant eventually in the trip, but more on that later. I decided I would head back to my hotel, dump my rental car, explore the strip and then come back later at night when presumably the lines to buy in to tournaments will hopefully be shorter. Back at my hotel, I get rid of the car, and I started walking the strip. I take in the overdose of neon lights that are everywhere. With no WSOP tournament to play at the moment, I act like a tourist and search for stuff like the Fountains of Bellagio, the Treasure Island Pirate Show, the Mirage Volcano, etc. OK, good, got that out of my system. Before I head back to my hotel, I decide I need to see one more thing. As a kid I went on a trip to Las Vegas a million years ago. We stayed at Circus Circus. At the time I thought the high-flying circus act above the casino floor and the dazzling array of arcade games on the outer circle around the casino floor were magical. I was so dominant at a game where you used flippers to make a ball go to a points area that made wooden horses move toward the finish line that I eventually won a huge gold horse with a clock in the middle. My first Vegas accolade. For reasons I do not begin to comprehend, Hendon Mob does not acknowledge this initial Vegas score on my part. Back to the present day/night, it was a long walk and the hotels started getting less and less impressive as I made my way toward Circus Circus. I finally arrived, went inside and let’s just say that present day reality did not hold a candle to my fond childhood memories. What a dump it had become. I guess sometimes memories are best left as memories. Disappointed for the first time on this trip (would it be the last time?), I then made the long walk back to my hotel, had my car brought up and headed back to the Rio to buy in to tomorrow’s Big 50 tournament. As I drove, I patted myself on the back for making the veteran move to come back late in the evening when the lines would be shorter. I went inside the Rio and found the line … which was … longer than it had been earlier in the day. It was massive. So, I got in line and waited. Just like everyone else. Just another schnook in a long line. Sigh. It took two hours to get to the cage. I couldn’t figure out why they wouldn’t have more employees working the cage when there was such a long line. People were there ready to spend their money. When people are begging to hand you their money, TAKE IT! The entrepreneur in me couldn’t understand the lack of planning. Oh well, I thought, it’s just the first night. Surely it will get better. Yes, I was a rube, a newbie, a country bumpkin who did not know any better. You can stop laughing at me now. OK, fine, you can keep laughing at me. The lines to the cage, of course, did not get any better most of the 12 days I was there. Live and learn. Or should I say wait and learn. Eventually I got to the cage, someone did me the monumental favor of taking my money, and I was one step closer to playing against the big boys. As I drove back to my hotel, I visualized all of the A-A, straights, flushes and full houses that were surely on the horizon for me. Dare to dream. I’m not going to lie. I was pretty excited. I was going to have to do something about that so my opponents didn’t make me out for the inexperienced rookie that I in fact was. Time to work on my bored, been there done that facial expression. As I took the elevator up to my room, I couldn’t stop grinning. Damn.

Subbed for memories and future TR. What are your dates this year?

by AzOther1 m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58561442#post58561442)

Subbed for memories and future TR. What are your dates this year?

May 28-June 8

Well written start, I'm in. GL at the Series. Surprised you're not going to be around for the Seniors, that's a good event.

Hooked.

by golddog m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58561506#post58561506)

Well written start, I'm in. GL at the Series. Surprised you're not going to be around for the Seniors, that's a good event.

I realize that what I'm about to write represents poor game selection, but to get the full WSOP experience I want to go up against the young guns. In addition, the seniors and super seniors events take place too close to my wife's birthday for me to do a trip around those dates.

In for it. Best of luck. I’ll be there for your FT

by rppoker m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58561529#post58561529)

I realize that what I'm about to write represents poor game selection, but to get the full WSOP experience I want to go up against the young guns. In addition, the seniors and super seniors events take place too close to my wife's birthday for me to do a trip around those dates.

Fun start, excited to read the rest! I totally agree with above; even if I eventually get old enough to play a Senior Event, I will never enter one. They are probably softer, but it just sounds like much less fun. At least in my book.

[emoji846][emoji846][emoji846] Sent from my SM-N970U using Tapatalk

Whale, depends on how you define fun. My experience has been that it's much more of a collegial, fun atmosphere. I've only seen a few players with the sunglasses/hoodie/etc setup. People playing seriously (to the extent of their ability), but not treating the tournament as if it's life-changing. Mostly, it's a bunch of old folks sitting around, playing cards, getting to know each other a little bit, having a good time. It is true that it's pretty soft (even an idiot such as myself can make day 2). Anyway, end that derail, let's get back to rp's stories.

by golddog m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58561690#post58561690)

Whale, depends on how you define fun. My experience has been that it's much more of a collegial, fun atmosphere. I've only seen a few players with the sunglasses/hoodie/etc setup. People playing seriously (to the extent of their ability), but not treating the tournament as if it's life-changing.Mostly, it's a bunch of old folks sitting around, playing cards, getting to know ... See full post

Oh great, I never even got close. I did cash in one of those Daily seniors that replace the deepstack, but that's about it. I never really played against old guys, so when I raised with AQ, another guy called, and the button raised, I nearly jammed, figuring the button was stealing. After a lot of thought I folded. The guy that called my raise snap folded, showing AQ. Wat? Oh, he knew the button had AK, which he showed. Holy crap the Big Fitty was 5 years ago?!?! That was my best bracelet finish, made it to day 3, where I lost concentration and played bad. OP, when someone says you have to reg late at night to find a short line, they mean 2 or 3 am.

"OP, when someone says you have to reg late at night to find a short line, they mean 2 or 3 am." You've got that right. My definition of "late" changed that night.

Enjoying this so far. I've been to the WSOP five times now and the first trip was by far the most magical. It's a very unique spectacle if you've never been before. Although I have no major complaints about the new setup at the ParisShoe, I still think the Rio had a unique charm. In summer time it would become a little poker island in the middle of the desert. And while it may have been a dump, it was our dump. It felt special to be playing in those same historic rooms where so many notable hands happened in the past. It was really the poker center of the universe every year during the WSOP. I miss the Guy Fieri highway, the bad restaurants, The Gold Coast, and playing poker in the bowling alley. Glad I got a chance to play the venue a few times and make some memories before the WSOP moved on. by rppoker m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58561416#post58561416)

2019 World Series of Poker: I have arrived, May 29I watched Seidel, Negreanu, Lamb and others for about five minutes, but you can’t see the cards from behind the ropes so the novelty wore off fast. Turns out that those five minutes would be relevant eventually in the trip, but more on that later. I decided I would head back to my hotel, dump my rental car, explore the strip and... See full post

First off, nice bread crumb. I'm curious to see how those five minutes pay off later in the story. Secondly, I'm with you on sweating live poker. Even as a fan of the game, I have a low tolerance for sweating the rail. Maybe 5-10 minutes before I lose interest. Unless you're watching a very lively table where the crowd is engaged in the spectacle, it's just too dull without knowing the action. Poker doesn't work well as a spectator sport.

In for the excellent writing. I’m digging the James Joyce-esque, present tense, stream of consciousness. Really makes the reader feel immersed in the story. I’ve never written professionally, but I appreciate those who have, and can do it well. IN! …for the past, present, and future!!!

I´m in. Very nice recap. I love thr analogy masters/wimbledon. But thats the magic. People here in germany asked me alot, why I´m heading to vegas for an 11 hours flight just to play poker tournaments. Played a couple of WSOP events, this year my first ME. Damn, july is only two months away :-)

Who is rppoker? I guess some background information is in order before I jump into the WSOP poker. You deserve to know my life and poker résumé if you are going to invest your time into my words. First my career. For a big chunk of my working days, I was a sportswriter. The most noteworthy portion of my time as a journalist saw me covering the NFL. Among other things, I covered nine Super Bowls. I won a lot of writing awards, so I should be able to deliver when it comes to the writing in this TR. The poker? We’ll just have to wait and see. I thoroughly enjoyed what I did as a sportswriter, but I reached a point in life where I was married with two young kids. My oldest was just reaching the point where her activities were taking place on weekends. I wanted to be able to coach my kids’ teams. Plus, my dad, who was getting up in years, had a successful real estate business (strip center/shopping center and office building ownership both local and throughout the country) with no line of succession. So, I made the decision to change careers 22 years ago and work in, and eventually take over the running of, the family real estate business. As for poker, my résumé is admittedly razor thin compared to most/all of you on 2+2. Until the year 2000, the number of lifetime hands of poker I had played was less than 2+2. As in, 0+0. At that time, a bunch of guys I knew wanted to start a low-stakes, friendly poker home game. They invited me to play, but I said I had never played poker before. They assured me that it was incredibly low stakes in which it was a rotating dealer’s choice. That wasn’t helpful, as now I was being told that I would be playing a wide variety of poker games, none of which I knew the rules to. I grudgingly accepted, feeling like a lamb being invited into the lion’s den. As it turned out, the stakes were incredibly low, exactly as promised. Most of the games were relatively simple to follow once someone would explain them to me. I wasn’t especially intrigued by all of the games, many of which struck me as kind of goofy, but I saw this as more of a social event once a month than a card game. There was one thing that intrigued me, however. At the end of the night everyone would kick in $20, and we’d play a Texas Hold’em tournament. This I found fascinating. Not to mention, I seemed pretty good at it. I quickly started reading books on the subject. Initially, the Harrington books, then Doyle’s Super System, and then anything else I could get my hands on. Soon thereafter, I was on a family vacation in Arizona and my dad asked me if I would go to a nearby casino with him. I said sure I would keep him company. I looked into the casino and learned that it had scheduled a No Limit Hold’em tourney the night we were talking about going. When we got to the casino, my dad was about to head off to play blackjack when we had the following conversation: My dad: “How long will your tournament last?” Me: “I don’t know. I could get knocked out on the first hand. I could last hours.” My dad: “OK. I’ll be at the blackjack tables when you get knocked out.” A total of two hours later, my dad had played all the blackjack he cared to play. Three hours after that I made the final table of a tourney that had started with maybe 200+ players. At the beginning of the tournament, I was pretty card dead and mostly treaded water. Then I got moved to a table where there was what I would now call a very LAG player who was running everyone over and had the largest stack. He was playing a ton of hands. I decided to target him and any time I had a premium hand I would try to play for as big a pot as possible. I got K-K and he doubled me up. I got A-K suited, connected on the flop and won a ton of chips from him. I got J-J and won a bunch of chips from him. Basically, he was stealing from everyone else, and then sending those chips my way. He was my Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to me. I felt like I should send him a thank you note. Finally, at the final table I knocked him out when I was dealt A-A. At this point, the only hands I had displayed at showdown were big hands, so my image was that of the tightest player at the table. Now that the LAG guy was out, there was way less aggression at the final table. At this point I loosened way up. I wasn’t a maniac, but I was stealing a bunch of pots, none of which went to showdown, so no one seemed the wiser that I had changed gears. They just figured I was catching premium hands. After a while, however, the blinds were getting crazy high and I was starting to get a bit short. A middle position player raised preflop, the button called and I looked down at J-10 suited and went all in. A squeeze play was my thinking. I was hoping both opponents would fold to my aggression, and I’d get some brief breathing room from the blinds. As far as anyone at the table had seen, anytime I bet it I had it. The initial raiser was beside himself. “I have a big hand,” he whined, “But this guy is the tightest guy at the table.” He tanked and he tanked and, exasperated, he folded. The button called with 8-8. When I turned over J-10 suited, Whiny Guy Folder almost had a heart attack. Someone call 9-1-1. He never said what he folded, but I’m pretty sure I would not have enjoyed a call from him. While he pouted, the dealer turned over the cards and there was a jack on the flop, which held up for me. When we got down to five-handed, no one had a clear-cut big stack. Meanwhile, the blinds were threatening everyone. In the big blind I looked down at 8c-8s. The action folded to the small blind, who raised for a big chunk of my chips. I went all-in and the small blind said, “You caught me, but I’m pot committed. I call.” He turned over Jh-7d. The flop was Kh-6c-2s. I was looking good. If my hand held up, I was going to be the chip leader. The turn was the Js which caused my shoulders to slump and took my breath away. I did not improve on the river and I was out after almost seven hours of play. I shook the hand of the guy who knocked me out, and I noticed for the first time that maybe 20-30 people were surrounding the table and watching. Someone from the casino walked me over to the payout area where I found out I had won $1,800. After collecting my money, a player who got knocked out at the final table a bit before me (not the LAG player) came up to me and said, “You played well. I haven’t seen you here before. Is this your first time playing here?” I responded, “It’s my first time playing anywhere.” The look on his face can only be described as stunned disbelief, and, shaking his head, he smiled and said, “Well good for you.” After that I walked over to my dad and said, “Sorry I made you sit around and wait so long.” To this my dad replied, “Are you kidding? That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Who is rppoker, part 2[/U] I may be the guy that has almost killed off poker (am I a jinx?); Tom Brady is why I can afford to play in the WSOP (am I lucky?)

After the $1,800 cash, I was really bit by poker fever. I was now devouring poker strategy books, and I loaded some money into a couple of poker sites to play online for the first time (I wasn’t using rppoker as my online poker moniker back then). I was an immediate winner. I was playing nine-handed sit-n-gos as well as some tournaments, albeit at low stakes. I was cashing at what I thought were very high percentages, so I went up in stakes. Even at the higher stakes (though still on the small to medium spectrum) I was cashing an absurdly high percentage of the time, and when I would lose it was often due to a pretty bad beat. And no, I was not folding my way to third place in the sit-n-gos. I was finishing in first place quite often. I have no idea if I was playing exceptionally well (hard to tell given the small sample size), if I was simply beating low level competition (likely) or if I was enjoying the positive end of variance (possibly true), but my success rate seemed through the roof. My high win rate continued for a good six months. It was at this point that I nervously (and possibly foolishly) decided I would start playing in a few Sunday Million online tournaments just to see what might happen. That decision was made on a Tuesday. Three days later, Black Friday shut down the online poker world. Damn. With the online world closed off to me, I stopped playing poker.

We fast forward many years later. In 2018 I somehow stumbled on to the fact that a bunch of WSOP Final Tables were being streamed. I started watching these streams and I loved what I was seeing. Poker Fever returned. When the 2018 WSOP ended I decided that I was going to play in the 2019 WSOP. I knew that my poker skills had atrophied, but I decided that I wanted to play in the WSOP, which would be made easy by a big, non-poker score I had previously experienced.

During my time in the family real estate business, we had a new tenant in one of our office buildings. They were four guys that were renting 800 square feet of space. I was fascinated by their potentially disruptive business concept. I was telling everyone I knew that these guys were going to be a publicly traded company someday. Everyone said I was nuts, that no company goes from four guys to publicly traded. I disagreed, and I invested in them when they went out for their first round of fund raising.

I did so partially because of something that happened during my sports writing days. When Tom Brady was drafted in the sixth round by the Patriots, I wrote a column just after the draft saying that I believed Brady was going to become a quality starter in the league. As a Michigan grad, I had seen him play a lot. This column was for a national audience. But then, before it could be printed, I thought to myself, “No one cares about a sixth-round draft pick. I can’t run this column.” So, I tore it up and wrote something else. I absolutely believed that Brady would become a starting caliber quarterback in the NFL. It would have been the greatest call of all time. But I didn’t run it for reasons that had nothing to do with my conviction that Brady would become a solid starter. I don’t have many regrets in life, but tearing up that column is one of them.

So, when everyone told me I was nuts to invest in the start-up company that was my tenant, I vowed that I was not going to make the Tom Brady mistake a second time. I believed in something others didn’t, and this time I was going to act on my conviction. What other people thought be damned. I ended up investing in the first six rounds of fund raising that the company went out for. After about eight years in business, the company went public. Tom Brady was the reason that I made an enormous profit. After the six-month post-IPO lock-up period ended, I sold my stock for close to what would be the company’s all-time high per share. I paid the taxes, paid off my mortgage and invested everything else in long-term municipal bonds that were at a not-seen-in-forever rate of 5% (tax free federally). My timing was incredibly lucky. I decided that a portion of the interest I would earn from the munis was to be spent on fun stuff I otherwise wouldn’t do.

For example, in 2017 I took my dad to the Super Bowl. It was the Patriots-Falcons Super Bowl. We were rooting for Brady and the Patriots for obvious and not-so-obvious reasons (see previous paragraph Brady story for the obvious, plus a couple of friends of mine were tight with Bill Belichick for the not-so-obvious). In the third quarter the score was Falcons 28, Patriots 3, and I was thinking, “Oh My God, I have taken my dad to the worst Super Bowl ever.” Then Brady & Company went crazy, they tied it at the end of regulation and won it in overtime for the greatest Super Bowl comeback ever. Oh My God, I took my dad to the greatest Super Bowl ever.

In 2018, I decided I was going to use some of the annual municipal bond interest to play in the next WSOP. I figured I was free rolling since the money was only coming from some of the annual muni interest and none of the principal. For a year I studied on a poker training site. I then played in the 2019 WSOP (trip report soon to follow). I loved every minute of it and decided I would play in the 2020 WSOP and every year after that.

Then in 2020 COVID-19 struck and my WSOP poker playing plans were dashed yet again.

To recap: I decided to go up in stakes and start playing in the Sunday Million, and a few days later Black Friday struck. Then, years later, I decide I am going to play in the WSOP every year, a global pandemic strikes, and the WSOP is not a thing for me for a few years.

Am I the guy who kills poker?

It is now the year 2024 and I am ready to return to the WSOP. Can poker survive my presence? I have been studying on a different poker training site to prepare, but I figure the poker world is one calamity away from declaring me persona non grata forever more. Has Las Vegas or the WSOP ever 86ed a person for being a jinx?

So, before moving forward to my 2024 WSOP trip report, it’s back to my 2019 WSOP for a long after-the-fact trip report as promised.

AARP is the devil... just stop

Enjoying this tremendously - I mostly lurk the forum, but feel compelled to comment on this solid work. I’ll also be at 2024 WSOP this June, mostly in the cash game arena. Good luck!

by rppoker m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58562446#post58562446)

After that I walked over to my dad and said, “Sorry I made you sit around and wait so long.” To this my dad replied, “Are you kidding? That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.”

this guy knows how to finish a story

Fellow sports writer here (without the awards). Enjoying this very much and looking forward to the rest....

I just want to say thank you to everyone who has responded with positive comments. It is greatly appreciated and highly motivating.

The quality is so high, there’s no way I’m going to embarrass myself with my own TR in June. Thank you for that, sincerely 😀

That's stinkin' thinkin' right thare, bucko. It's not a competition. As the author of a number of TRs of questionable quality, while I might compare my work to others, I have never rated, ranked or compared other OPs work against each other. I'm grateful that so many folk from various backgrounds take the time to document their experiences for us to enjoy. Though this is one of the better ones, so far

You had me at 'schnook'. I haven't used that word in 30+ years. GL.

Wow, you definitely have a way with words sir and I love your writing style! I am a Michigander, Tom Brady fan and a my brother graduated from Michigan College of Engineering. Please keep writing your TRs (past, present and future). You have many grateful readers refreshing this TR and waiting the next installment.

by bucketorocks m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58563194#post58563194)

The quality is so high, there’s no way I’m going to embarrass myself with my own TR in June. Thank you for that, sincerely 😀

by AzOther1 m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58563205#post58563205)

That's stinkin' thinkin' right thare, bucko.It's not a competition. As the author of a number of TRs of questionable quality, while I might compare my work to others, I have never rated, ranked or compared other OPs work against each other. I'm grateful that so many folk from various backgrounds take the time to document their experiences for us to enjoy.Though this is one of... See full post

This. TRs are about the experiences. Writing that is clever, humorous, professionally presented, etc is just lagniappe!

by AzOther1 m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58563205#post58563205)

That's stinkin' thinkin' right thare, bucko.It's not a competition. As the author of a number of TRs of questionable quality, while I might compare my work to others, I have never rated, ranked or compared other OPs work against each other. I'm grateful that so many folk from various backgrounds take the time to document their experiences for us to enjoy.Though this is one of... See full post

Aye. I find something to enjoy in basically every TR. I think part of what's fun about them is just seeing how other people experience Vegas. It's a big enough place that two people can go there on vacation and do none of the same things. Even from a poker standpoint, you have your cash players, MTT players, low stakes, high stakes, PLO, etc. Everybody is doing it differently.

Fair enough. I’ll stick to the picture book variety, allow my illustrations to make up for lack of writing prowess.

by BigWhale m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58561568#post58561568)

Fun start, excited to read the rest! I totally agree with above; even if I eventually get old enough to play a Senior Event, I will never enter one. They are probably softer, but it just sounds like much less fun. At least in my book.

I played the Senior's last year - 2 days 1s, straight into 2 day 1s of Millionaire Maker. Senior's was a far more enjoyable experience

2019 World Series of Poker, Flight 1A of the Big 50, May 30 Aces vs kings raising wars; poker is easy; bagging chips I try to prepare myself for the fact that the poker sharks will see me for the dead money that I probably am. Are they going to run me over from the opening shuffle up and deal? Amazingly, that is not what happened on the first day of my maiden voyage. First, an aside. In the blink of an eye, something weird happened at my table. On the third hand of the day, a guy in seat 7 was dealt AA and doubled up against a guy with KK. That’s not the weird part. A cooler, yes. Weird, no. The weird part came a few hands later when someone showed up saying that Double-Up Guy was in his seat. The floor was called and it turned out Double-Up Guy was at the wrong table. He got to keep his bounty of chips and was moved to the correct table. Never would have gotten the double up if he’d been at the proper table. But this is my trip report, not Double-Up Guy’s, so back to me. You all know the much overquoted line that if you can’t find the sucker at the table it is probably you? Well, at this table, it was not inexperienced me. Two to my left was a guy who claimed to have won a circuit ring recently, and after a few orbits I did in fact believe he was the best player at the table, so I was somewhat careful trying to steal his blinds early on. But I kept trying to figure out who else at the table was very good. I looked … and I looked … and I looked. What I saw was that this table was, dare I say it, pretty damn soft. Was I being full of myself? Was I overrating my ability? Was I just not seasoned enough to recognize game? I told myself to be careful. I told myself not to get overconfident. But other than Circuit-Ring Guy, no one else at the table seemed especially scary. In level 1, I mostly treaded water. In Levels 2-4, I saw nice steady increases to my chip stack with absolutely no speed bumps. Then in Level 5, the dream scenario unfolded. We got a new player added to the table, who was loud and seemingly intent on announcing his presence with authority. He let us all know with great fanfare that he had just gotten knocked out on a bad beat and was now joining our table firing his second bullet. Who brags about getting knocked out early? He immediately lost a couple of small pots on his first two hands in which he limped pre-flop. On his third hand, he raised from middle position. I was the player to his immediate left and I looked down at Ac-Ah. Loud New Guy didn’t strike me as having a folding button so I re-raised. A raising war ensued and all the chips went into the middle. As we were about to turn over our cards, a player not in the hand announced, “Aces versus kings.” He was not wrong. Loud New Guy had Kc-Kd. The flop, turn and river were all low cards and Loud New Guy was done for the day at record speed while the dealer pushed a boatload of chips my way. I then got to do the best thing imaginable for a first-timer. Stacking chips. Lots of chips. Heaps of chips. Beautiful chips. Not exactly a massive tower this early in the tournament, but glorious to see all the same. Once I got done admiring my chip stack (I showed restraint, barely, and didn’t take a selfie) a thought popped into my head: At this point whenever I had gotten to showdown, I always had it. My bluffs had pretty much all worked without reaching showdown. So, my table image was that I did not get out of line, and I’m sure my graying hair caused them to label me either tight aggressive or a Nit. After my double up I was the chip leader at this table, and I started raising more frequently (not as a Maniac, but aggressively). No one played back at me. Not even Circuit-Ring Guy. It became clear that no one wanted to get in a hand with me unless they had a premium hand. I wasn’t winning big pots since everyone was folding to my aggression, but I was winning small pot after small pot after small pot. Poker is easy!!!!!! During the end of Level 6, my table broke, which was unfortunate. And by unfortunate, I mean catastrophic. I wanted to stay at that table forever. I wanted to pay rent to stay at that table. I wanted to grow old(er) and retire at that table. Instead, I was moved to a much tougher table where the player next to me was the third-place finisher of the previous night’s $10,000 turbo tournament. He was Asher Conniff, and he was seated to my immediate right. I believe he won about $175,000 including bounties in that high stake turbo tournament. I recognized him from the night before when I was getting the lay of the land and had stopped briefly to gawk at the high roller tourney going on. Naturally, this morning I had gone online to see who the big winners were. Now seated next to him I said, “Didn’t you just run deep at last night’s high roller?” He said yes, third place. I congratulated him. This got the attention of everyone at the table. Congratulations all around. Hey, we’re one big happy family. Kumbaya! A moment later, we all reverted to trying to rob each other blind. Levels 7 and 8, I do not get out of line since I wasn’t getting dealt good cards and I was trying to focus on how everyone else was playing at this new table (they fight harder for pots after the flop than my previous table, yet they don’t go broke on good but not premium hands at showdown). After two levels of mostly folding, folding and for good measure more folding, I had built a very tight image and I had more or less tread water. I did play a few hands and chipped up a little, which was not terrible. In Level 9, I decided to use my tight table image and start getting out of line, and to my surprise no one seemed to recognize my change in play. I went from 165,500 chips at the end of level 8 to 241,000 chips at the end of Level 9. The big jump in chips was due to my new found aggression and then toward the end of the level when someone finally looked me up and then played back at me on the river, it turned out I had trips. Given that when I finally had to turn over my cards at showdown I had trips, I decide that I can continue to push the envelope and act as though I am just getting a hot run of cards. Eventually I push it too far with nothing but air and get caught with my hand in the cookie jar, dropping my chip count down to $201,000 at the end of the next level. At this point I decided to slow down for the time being since I suspected the jig was up. Five hands short of the night’s finish, our dealer asks that the chip leader handle the color up. There were a bunch of very healthy stacks at the table, but I may have been the chip leader. Not sure. As a WSOP newbie, I wasn’t very good at telling how many chips the guys at the other end of the table had. Given my lack of experience it was all I could do to hold my own at this much tougher table without an added task being thrown my way. I did not volunteer that I may have been chip leader. If I had to guess, I’d say half the table had similar amounts of chips. Until the dealer announced who the chip leader was, I figured stone cold silence was my friend. Tournament pro Asher, who I think I had covered by a little bit, showed me (the old guy at the table) mercy and he took over the color up duties (thank you, thank you, thank you!!). Having significantly tightened up my play the last couple of levels, I now hit the gas with modest holdings and ended up stealing the blinds in three of the last five hands since everyone at the table to my left seemed pretty content to call it a night. I’m not sure I would have gotten aggressive again in these last few hands if I were busy converting everyone’s little chips to slightly bigger chips. (I’ve rooted for Asher ever since for his small act of kindness). My last pre-flop raise got through and bags were passed out to every player at the table. For those keeping score, my chip count at the end of each level was as follows (starting stack 50,000): Level 1: 48,500 Level 2: 65,000 Level 3: 73,500 Level 4: 83,000 Level 5: 145,000 Level 6: 159,800 Level 7: 162,000 Level 8: 165,500 Level 9: 241,000 Level 10: 201,000 Level 11: 195,000 Level 12: 216,000 I had survived a full day/night of poker. I had not done anything monumentally stupid. I had not been mocked for poor play. I had not been sent to the rail. I was still alive with a very solid number of chips. Day 2 play would resume tomorrow at 5pm. By the way, in case you missed the point, I’M BAGGING CHIPS! … IN MY FIRST WSOP TOURNAMENT! Yeah, yeah, I get it. Bagging chips is not an actual accomplishment. I’M BAGGING CHIPS!!!!!!! Yeah, yeah, I get it. I haven’t actually cashed. I’M BAGGING CHIPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

by rppoker m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58563813#post58563813)

2019 World Series of Poker, Flight 1A of the Big 50, May 30Aces vs kings raising wars; poker is easy; bagging chipsI try to prepare myself for the fact that the poker sharks will see me for the dead money that I probably am. Are they going to run me over from the opening shuffle up and deal? Amazingly, that is not what happened on the first day of my maiden voyage.First, an asi... See full post

Terrible ruing. They should've tried to find KK guy and give him his chips back. Regardless, the chips should've stayed on the table and the dumbass shouldn't have gotten any of them.

by pig4bill m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58563991#post58563991)

Terrible ruing. They should've tried to find KK guy and give him his chips back. Regardless, the chips should've stayed on the table and the dumbass shouldn't have gotten any of them.

You make an interesting point. I didn't question the ruling in my mind at the time because, given my inexperience, I just assumed the floor knew what they were doing on the ruling. It would have been difficult to find KK guy since he had left the table by then since the AA opponent's hand busted him. I imagine that, had the KK guy still had a pittance of chips so that he was still at the table, there would undoubtedly have been an extremely heated exchange over the ruling.

floor should have kept him there and move the new player to a different table. too much happened

Can we say this or is it too early? Candidate for HOF thread incoming!!! Keep up the great story-telling and good luck this year - will be rooting for you!

Scoreboard

Full results from Day 1A get posted. There were 6,148 entrants with 1,579 of those players remaining. I am in the top one-third or so in chips. Tomorrow at my table the player two to my left is the (at the time) all-time winningest player in terms of WSOP circuit championships who has the 37th most chips heading into Day 2A of this tournament. While I am playing in Day 2A, Day 1B of the same tournament is underway with days 1C and 1D to follow. When all is said and done, this tournament is the biggest poker tourney of all time.

Subscribed for Epic Bread and Excellent Writing!

2019 World Series of Poker, day 3 (May 31, 2019)[/U] A massive delay to start Day 2, the money bubble approaches, an unexpectedly quiet Maurice Hawkins, I stomp on the accelerator and go for it – three of a kind vs. three of a kind

Day 2 of Flight A of the Big 50 for me. We were supposed to start at 5:00 p.m., but because there were so many people playing in Flight B, Day 1 of the Big 50 (there would ultimately be 28,371 entries in the Big 50, making it the biggest ever live tournament, hey I’m part of history) plus I suspect other tournaments, there is a massive delay to the start of my Day 2. Apparently, there are not enough tables available, so we have to wait. The frustrating part was they couldn’t give us a new starting time. They just said stay close and we’ll let you know.

So, I waited … and waited … and waited. And then … let me check my notes … I waited some more. For my fellow Day 2 waitees, tension is reaching DEFCON 3. Anger is bubbling to the top. I hope they are this impatient once the cards are in the air at my table. If I were good at it, this would be the time to calmly meditate. Alas, the one time I tried to meditate, I was told to empty my mind and don’t think about anything. And it went like this for me: “Empty your mind. Empty … mind. Think of nothing. Think of nothing. Think of nothing. Think of … think of ... nothing. Mmmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmm. Is there a football game on TV? Doh!!!!!!!!!!!!! Empty mind. Don’t think … Don’t think … Don’t think, Meat. Bull Durham sure is a great movie. ARGHHHHH! I can’t stop thinking!” And then I stopped after a grand total of … 60 seconds. Is that good?

Eventually it is finally announced that we should head to our Day 2A tables, and we got started. I’M UNBAGGING CHIPS!! Based upon a Hendon Mob search, I knew there were two for certain professionals at my table, and two other players who may or may not have been pros (lifetime earnings of just shy of $250,000). The overwhelming chip leader at my table at the start of play was Maurice Hawkins, he of double-digit WSOP circuit ring fame. He was seated two to my left. Early on he was not at all active. I did not get out of line against him, but the couple of times I raised his blinds he folded which means a) he had junk hands, b) he saw that I was an older player and figured I was a tight player who had a real hand, or c) he was taking his time early on to figure out how people were playing. In addition to being inactive, he was also quite quiet, which surprised me given his reputation for table talk.

In any event, my chip stack was solid when a monster hand developed fairly near the money bubble. At this point I had stolen blinds an appropriate but not out of line number of times and had not been to showdown, so I don’t think I had much of an established table image. Blinds were starting to get up there, but no reason to panic. In the cutoff I was dealt Qh-Qd. The UTG player who had not been terribly active raised 3x the big blind. UTG+2 called. At this point UTG+2 had been the most active player at the table, choosing to just call a lot of pre-flop raises and then trying to take down hands post-flop. Based upon the information I had, UTG was not likely to be splashing around with junk but I did not have enough information to know if he was a Nit or just had been getting bad cards before this hand. I felt very confident that UTG+2’s range was highly likely to be trailing my Q-Q. Based upon my chip stack, my options were fold, call or go all-in.

Yes, I could have folded my way into the money. I’m not going to lie, the idea of cashing in my first tournament at my first WSOP was a thrilling thought. But come on, folding Q-Q in this spot would be gutless. And I felt you can’t just call here since Q-Q three ways is not massively desirable once the flop hits. I felt going all-in was the best option. I was certain UTG+2 would fold if UTG called. I felt that UTG+2 was capped at middle pair to J-J or an ace with a good but not top kicker.

UTG, however, was an uncertainty. I figured him for 10-10 or better along with A-K and maybe A-Q suited. As I saw it, I could be a coward and fold, or go all-in and either get two folds (unlikely but I’d gladly take it), get knocked out (booooo!!!) or win the hand after getting called and have enough chips to be dangerous (yes please). I figured the whole point was to give myself a chance at a deep run rather than just try to min cash. So, I went for it. When the action worked itself around to me, I went all-in. I believe I could have raised without going all-in, but doing so would have meant I was pot committed if someone put me all-in so I figured I’d go for it all, perhaps increasing fold equity and the possibility that I could take the pot down without needing to see any cards turned over.

UTG, who had me slightly covered, then proceeded to tank for at least two minutes. This was unusual since everyone at the table had been making decisions in like 3-4 seconds or less up until now. Thus, two minutes seemed like an eternity. I figured, optimist that I am, this meant he had a difficult decision, which would mean I was either ahead or we would be flipping. Unless he had fallen asleep (unlikely) the remaining possibility was that he was Hollywooding with A-A, trying to induce UTG+2 to call as well.

UTG finally announced he was all-in (please be A-K). UTG+2 insta-folded and showed 10-10 face up. Cards were turned over and UTG had Ac-As. My Qh-Qd was in big trouble.

The flop came Qs in the window. OMG, I flopped a set of queens. Half a second of delirious joy, poker is easy! Followed by a harmless 2c … and then … Ah. Poker is difficult.

And there was much sadness.

My three queens were crushed by a trio of aces. There would be no one-outer miracle case queen on the turn or river and I was out. Hawkins, who was not in the hand, leaned into the table, reached over and tapped the table twice right in front of where I was seated. I don’t know if that meant he respected my decision to go all-in, or if he was sad that the inexperienced, gray-haired, poker old-timer had been knocked out before he could be the one to relieve me of my chips.

I got up, wished everyone good luck and proceeded to walk the hallways of the Rio for a good 15 minutes in stunned disbelief, trying to decide if there was any way I could have played the hand differently. Back and forth I walked the hallways. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Had I made a colossal blunder, or was I right to go for it all? I didn’t know about solvers at the time, so the question went unanswered. Lacking poker friends at the WSOP, I had no one to ask. I certainly wasn’t going to go up to a total stranger with my tale of woe and ask for feedback.

What I was left with was glassy-eyed disbelief. The only time I have ever felt that numb, unable to process what I’d just seen were two University of Michigan football games I attended in the past (my alma mater where I’ve had season tickets since 1980). The first game was the 1994 Kordell Stewart miracle game where Michigan had the lead against Colorado with one play to go only to see Stewart uncork a 70-yard thunderbolt of a Hail Mary pass on the game’s final play, which got tipped in the air and then caught by a Colorado receiver for the touchdown and a miracle reversal of fortune. The other game was Michigan against Michigan State in 2015 where on the final play of the game all Michigan’s punter had to do to ensure the win was catch the snap and kick it (I don’t think Michigan State even had a punt returner back). Instead, the Michigan punter dropped the snap, got spun around, chaos ensued and Michigan State picked up the ball and ran it back for the gut-wrenching winning touchdown. In both cases I just stood there in the stands unable to comprehend the cataclysmic, volcanic, earth-shattering, sinkhole swallowing, tsunami of a disaster that had just happened. I believe in both of these games, my best friend and I just stood there in deafening silence for who knows how long before one of us said to the other, “Let’s get the F#^k out of here,”

Admittedly, I was not a favorite in the QQ vs AA hand, but that is the type of incomprehensible pain I felt in the immediate aftermath. At those two football games I never even considered the possibility that my team could lose on the final play, and then, out of nowhere, catastrophic agony that I will never forget and NEVER get over. At the WSOP just before the set over set hand commenced, I was minding my own business, plenty of chips, feeling calm and serene, the money bubble is just around the corner, all is well with the world, and then in an instant, BAM, I’m poker roadkill.

In any event, after 15 minutes of walking the RIO hallways I had not come up with any answers or feel-good insights into what had just happened. It was at that point that I did the only thing a poker player can do when they are in my shoes at the World Series of Poker …

… I got in line and registered for the next day’s tournament.

Noooooo The painful fake suck out I like the jam pre. Clearly the result would have been the same if you called. No way I’d ever fold that pre, but also I’m not good.

I don’t know who this guy is, but I’ll never forget this face:

Spoiler Show

Spoiler Show

…Sorry.

QQ is a fist pump ship in that spot, there is no second guessing that

Subbing! Run great at WSOP!

by TJ Eckleburg12 m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58565498#post58565498)

I don’t know who this guy is, but I’ll never forget this face: Spoiler Show

... See full post

Spoiler Show

…Sorry.... See full post

QQ is a fist pump ship in that spot, there is no second guessing that... See full post

The inner poker fish in me says I wish I had folded my way to the money, since cashing in my first WSOP tourney ever would have been so validating. The inner shark in me that is trying to get out says that going for it in that spot is what it takes to get a big chip stack and run deep in a tournament. I just have to tell myself not to be results oriented. I just have to tell myself that there are a lot more AK combinations in the deck than there are AA combinations in this instance. I have to keep telling myself that one deep run will be far more profitable than 2 or 3 min cashes. I have to keep telling myself that monsters are not always under the bed, even though they were there in this particular instance. I hope I remember this if a similar spot occurs in my still-to-come 2024 WSOP.

Very tough to get away from QQ pre-flop unless you are very deep stacked. That's simply a setup spot. It will come back to you eventually in reverse.

Yeah I mean stack sizes are important but anything less than 30bb it’s pretty much just a cooler unless you’re right on the bubble I folded QW near the bubble of my first wsop event tbh. But we were about 5 off the bubble and it was utg open and utg+1 3 bet. I had 15bb and was in MP

Ever since I decided to do this trip report, I have been looking forward to seeing what the response would be on this QQ bust out hand. At the time in 2019 I thought I had made the right decision to jam pre-flop, but the biggest drawback to doing a solo trip is not having anyone to bounce hands off of in the immediate aftermath. Especially when you are as inexperienced as I was. That hand weighed on me for a long time back in 2019. I appreciate everyone's feedback.

by rppoker m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58565554#post58565554)

The inner poker fish in me says I wish I had folded my way to the money, since cashing in my first WSOP tourney ever would have been so validating.The inner shark in me that is trying to get out says that going for it in that spot is what it takes to get a big chip stack and run deep in a tournament. I just have to tell myself not to be results oriented. I just have to tell mys... See full post

I think I would have folded in that multi-way pot. even if you are up against AK it is still a flip. get in the money, you are deep enough to get some ladders. the effects of getting knocked out are way bigger than doubling up there. I would rather fold and be wrong than jam and lose a flip (or face AA or KK)

by DogFace m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58565638#post58565638)

Very tough to get away from QQ pre-flop unless you are very deep stacked. That's simply a setup spot. It will come back to you eventually in reverse.

by rppoker m (https://www.twoplustwo.com/post?postId=58565699#post58565699)

Ever since I decided to do this trip report, I have been looking forward to seeing what the response would be on this QQ bust out hand. At the time in 2019 I thought I had made the right decision to jam pre-flop, but the biggest drawback to doing a solo trip is not having anyone to bounce hands off of in the immediate aftermath. Especially when you are as inexperienced as I was... See full post

One way you MIGHT have won is if you just called. Something I might have done to see if the flop comes out with A or K. I might not have too. Anyway, the Q flops, you act all happy and check raise all-in, and the brilliant AA player folds. :-) My Day 2 went pretty smooth, in part because I didn't get any big hands pre. I won just enough to maintain a 30-40 bb stack, until I went card-dead the last few levels to end the day to have 20 bigs to start Day 3. Maybe it's good sometimes to not have any big hands.

First trip report I have read in years, and I am glad I found it. You're an incredible writer, really know how to keep your audience hooked. Enough of the compliments, let me get back to reading!

World Series of Poker, Flight 1C of the Big 50, day 4 (June 1): Snap calling with ace high; Table Maniac calls a river bet with only 10 high; Man plans, Poker Gods laugh I began a new day and a new tournament (well, actually the same Big 50 event, but a new flight) in good spirits. I had put yesterday’s disappointment behind me and was looking forward to playing more No Limit Hold’em. Early on in Level 2, I played my favorite hand of my entire WSOP. A player three to my left was the considerable chip leader at the table. Early in Level 1 he made the nuts with a straight in one hand and a full house in another. Even better for him, in both hands his opponent had a big premium hand and he got paid off handsomely. After that he decided to become Table Captain. After a while I noticed a pattern to his play. He was seeing a ton of flops. He would bet on the flop and either take it down or get called. If his post-flop bet would get called, he would check on the turn, and then make a good-sized bet on the river which was getting through every time. No one else at the table had showed a willingness to look him up on his river bet. I decided to target him. I was looking for an excuse to get in a hand with him. Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Table Captain raised pre-flop, everyone folded to me in the big blind and I called with Ad-9h. The flop came 2h-3d-6s. I checked, he bet, I called. The turn came 8d. Check-check. The river came 2s. I checked. Table Captain made his usual healthy river bet and I snap-called, practically beating him into the pot with my chips. He turned over Qs-7c for nothing but air. I turned over my Ad-9h for nothing but air, but better air than his, and I won the hand. When he saw my cards there was an initial look of shock on his face, followed by a sheepish grin and then he nodded at me. Respect. Aretha Franklin R … E … S … P … E … C … T. After that, Table Captain did not raise me even one time when we were in hands together. Also, after this hand in Level 2, I started to get more aggressive and people were folding to my raises a lot. For a number of levels, it was very smooth sailing with the exception of a hand in Level 5 where my A-K offsuit did not improve (something that happened a lot throughout my entire WSOP) and I lost to A-9 offsuit on a 9-high runout that cost me about 25% of my chip stack. Despite being card dead almost the entire day, at the end of Level 8 my chip stack had reached its high of the day at 116,000 thanks to some timely/successful bluffs. It was then, in Level 9, that the Poker Gods displayed an unusual (and by unusual, I mean despicable) sense of humor. During the hand before THE hand, a player at the other end of the table (an absolute raging Maniac) was involved as usual. This guy was playing an insanely high percentage of the hands. Anyway, in the hand before THE hand, the table’s tightest player made a healthy river bet. Table Maniac called and turned over, wait for it, nothing but 10 high. Against the table’s tightest player. What????? Obviously 10 high was not close to good. The player next to me whispered to me, “Did I just see that right? Did he actually call with 10 high?” I confirmed that, yes, he had called with only 10 high against a mega-tight player who had a straight. That is the backdrop for THE hand that took place next. Pre-flop the action folded to Table Maniac who limped. It folded to me in the big blind. I saw I had Qs-8s, and I just called. The flop came Qd-8c-2h. Wheeeeeeeee! I had flopped the world against a hyper aggressive lunatic. Normally I would have just checked to induce a bluff, but Table Maniac, in addition to playing too many hands, was also a total calling station. His folding range … did … not … exist. I led out, and he called my bet. The turn was a 4s. I bet. Table Maniac called. The river was the 9h. I was about to bet, but the Table Maniac appeared to have really perked up when the river card was turned over. Throughout my entire WSOP trip, I did not look for physical tells. I figured I lacked the experience to effectively read tells and I certainly wasn’t good enough to sense fake tells. But this guy seemed very transparent, so I just checked. The river really seemed like he thought it was a good card for him. To my surprise, he checked back. I turned over my two pair (queens and 8s). Table Maniac turned over a better two pair (queens and 9s). A loud murmur could be heard from the other players. Against a Table Maniac who had just called a big river bet with only 10 high, I had lost two pair to a better two pair on the river. Just a brutal river card. Talk about a gut punch. I think I played it as well as I could have. When I was behind pre-flop and after the river, I put zero chips into the pot. When I was ahead after the flop and turn, I put chips in the middle. I did everything right, but I guess this was a case of man plans, Poker Gods laugh. I wasn’t at all amused. I told myself this sucked but that I should not go on tilt and punt away the rest of my chips. Play fundamentally sound. I treaded water the rest of the level, stealing blinds a couple of times, but otherwise finding no playable hands. Early in Level 10, I started getting playable hands. A smaller stack than me went all in preflop with 7s-7h. I called with Ad-Kd. In the recurring theme of my trip, my A-K did not improve, I lose a coin flip, and now I was getting pretty low on chips. Soon thereafter I was dealt Kh-Qs in the cutoff, and I went all-in. My chip stack scared no one, and both the small blind and big blind called. The flop came Kh-Qd-7s. Top two pair for me. Once again, I’d flopped the world. Check-check by the other two players. The turn was the 7c, pairing the board. The small blind checked, the big blind raised, the small blind folded. I showed my top two pair. The big blind showed Ac-3h for nothing more than ace high in relation to the board. All I had to fade was an ace, which would give the big blind a better two pair (remember, there were two 7s on the board), and I would triple up. As should be obvious by now the river was … an Ace. And just like that I lost yet again on a river card that gave my opponent a better two pair than my flopped two pair. I departed, again walking the halls of the Rio for a lengthy period of time trying to make sense of what had happened, not on speaking terms with the Poker Gods. For those keeping score, my chip count at the end of each level was: Level 1: 53,600 Level 2: 89,300 Level 3: 92,000 Level 4: 85,900 Level 5: 64,500 Level 6: 83,400 Level 7: 100,000 Level 8: 116,000 Level 9: 46,000 Level 10: 0 Once I finally stopped walking the hallways of the Rio, yet again finding no answers to my questions, I faced one final indignity. I eventually got in line to sign up for tomorrow’s Flight D of the Big 50. It wasn’t a short line. I waited impatiently, unhappily, broodingly. When I finally got to the cage, I was told that tomorrow’s tournament was sold out.