The Vegas Dream Is Over…For Now

I won’t be returning home from Las Vegas with a few million dollars in my bank account because I busted on Day 1B of the $40 million guaranteed WPT World Championship. The result aside, I’m happy with how I played under the circumstances, so that’s a bonus despite the dream being over.

My quest for glory started on Table 125 Seat 6, with 100,000 chips and blinds of 300/500/500a. Our table started four-handed, which I wasn’t delighted about, but two of those players were Club WPT qualifiers, meaning they probably weren’t the best, and the other was an Asian fella who seemed pretty solid.

The first two hour-long levels passed without anything of note, and I headed into the first break with 96,000 chips.

The first level back from the 15-minute break did not go to plan. First, I turned my hand into a bluff and ran into a straight. Thinking about it, my line made no sense at all despite a flush coming in on the river; I would have called with a straight, too.

I made another mistake against a Canadian lad in a hijack versus button scenario. I raise-called with K♣J♣ in the hijack, and flopped a jack. There were two hearts on the board, I check-called a continuation bet. The turn was a blank, and I check-called again. The river bricked, and I check-folded what I reckon was the best hand.

Ladies Love Pud!

That hand left me with 48,000 chips going into the 500/1,000/1,000a level. I looked down at pocket queens, and opened from middle position. A Lee Mack lookalike, who I thought was Russian but turned out to be Latvian, three-bet in the small blind. I opted to call, and the flop fell deuce-eight-five rainbow. Lee Mack led out, I raised, and he shoved, covering me. I called, and he flipped over A♠K♠. My ladies held, and I was back to my starting stack.

One of the Club WPT qualifiers busted, and I wasn’t enthralled about his replacement. A guy sat down with a table chip-leading stack, sporting a pair of Yeezys and a diamond-encrusted watch that was likely north of my entire net worth. Of course, he was an aggressive mother fucker to boot and definitely knew what he was doing.

It was around this point that the Poker Gods decided to make things more difficult by dealing me a right load of shit. Having live-reported dozens of European Poker Tour (EPT) and World Series of Poker (WSOP) events while cutting my chops in the poker media world, I know players love to bemoan their luck and a lack of playable hands for their downfall. I’m always blatantly honest with my performances at the table; I write about it, warts and all, if I fuck something up. Hand on heart, I have never experienced a run of cards like it. For a level and a half, I swear I never saw a card higher than a nine. There were no spots to bluff either because most pots were three-bet preflop, so I just sat tight and hoped for the best.

I clashed with Mr $100K Watch when I called his latest open with Q♠J♠ and flopped the world on a J♣10♠9♠ board. He led out, and I raised hoping to get it in with a million outs. He tank folded, putting me on 109,000 chips.

Millionaires Run Good

Having made the dinner break six hours into the day, I met up with the little lady, had something to eat and a coffee, and headed back to the table hoping to use my ultra-tight image to my advantage. The decent Canadian lad busted, and Mario Mosboeck replaced him. Mosboeck is a professional football player (soccer to my American brethren) who has a penchant for high-stakes poker tournaments. He recently won a PokerStars SCOOP Main Event, plays on the Triton Super High Roller Series, and has bought into the $1,000,000 buy-in Big One for One Drop event. Not the best opponent to have to your left.

I look down at red pocket sevens in late position, and open with a raise. Mosboeck three-bets on the button, and I call. Flop comes A♠K♠Q♣, leading to me check-folding to his c-bet.

An orbit later, I find ace-queen on the button, and raise. Mosboeck calls in the big blind, and the flop comes down ace-eight-three rainbow. Mosboeck check-calls my c-bet, and then my second barrel before checking the river. I don’t know what it was but something seemed wrong, and I checked behind on the river, and was shown ace-eight. Fuck sake.

Soon after, I got ace-queen in against pocket nines of a strong Estonian, and spiked an ace to put myself back to 110,000.

Missing a Myriad of Outs

My run of shit cards continued. Nine-deuce off, queen-trey suited in an opened pot, and shit like that. I only had 21 big blinds as we hit the eight-hour mark. More bullshit continued, and I continued folding completely unplayable hands, until my stack dwindled to 12 big blinds. I look down at J♣9♣ and open-shoved from middle position. The big blind, a newcomer to the table, who knew our Yeezy-wearing friend, instantly called with 6♥6♦. I flopped a gutshot straight to go with my two overcards to his sixes, but missed on the turn, with the river improving my assassin to an unnecessary set of sixes. I lasted 9.5 hours, which is an achievement in my eyes. GG, Pud.

Tournament Takeaways

Playing in a $10,400 buy-in tournament was an incredible experience and something I will forever be grateful to WPT Global and PokerNews for. I’ve always dreamed of playing in the WSOP Main Event, but I could not justify spending $10,000 on a tournament entry. I’m disappointed not to make it through to Day 2, not least because a friend of mine had enough faith to buy 15% of my action, but because I never really got the chance to play poker. I was confident that, despite the aggressive players at my table, I could have held my own at that table, but the deck wasn’t playing ball. I don’t feel like I got a fair crack of the whip.

One thing the experience has taught me is that most players are completely full of shit and hardly ever have fuck all when they are betting. Some of the holdings shown down were laughable; outright aggression gets you far at a tournament table. I reckon my usual online poker tournaments are going to seem like a walk in the park when I fire some up upon my return to Blighty.

I’ve fallen back in love with poker. I’d not played much since around 2015 for various reasons, but jumping back into the streets in the run-up to this event has reignited my love for this brutal game. I met interesting people from Taiwan, Iran, Afghanistan, Austria, Canada, the USA, and Turkey at my table. I really want to play more live poker in the upcoming year; it was great fun despite being card-dead.

The dream is over for now, but the game is only just beginning.

Four More Days in Vegas

Although I’m gutted not to still be in contention for a $6 million top prize, I do have four more days in Vegas, so I’ll be making the most of it. We will be heading to see the Grand Canyon before we leave, will take in a Vegas show, and just enjoy being in this crazy town.

Until next time, seat open at Table 125. GG.