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Work was no fun today, so I retreat to my blog with the WSOP Circuit Event from Tunica on the Deuce in the background. Where was I? If memory serves, I have yet to update you guys on the $1000 No Limit Event I cashed in. That's my favorite part of the whole long story, so I'll jump right in. I arrived at my table to find it back to normal; filled with boys. "Thank the lord," I thought, "I'm so sick of playing with those women." Before the thought was gone from my head, who do you suppose took the final seat at the table? If you said Annie Duke, you win the brand new convertible sofa! She certainly wasn't going to play like some of the women I encountered in the Ladies Event, but she wasn't necessarily the woman I'd choose given the option either. One of my dad's best friends in the world is Teddy Lawson, bracelet winner in the Pot Limit Omaha $5000 buy-in event in 2004. He was playing in my event as well (as well as Dad and another friend of ours - we had a contingent) and stopped by my table to check on me. He pointed at the player next to me, an unassuming British bloke, and said, "Watch out for that guy." He said it as if he was kidding, but I knew he was very seriously telling me to watch. I didn't know his name, but I found out later he is one of the tippy-top players in Europe. Also at the table, it turned out, was Steve Zoine, runner up for the 2005 $5000 No Limit Hold 'Em bracelet, bested in that tournament only by TJ Cloutier. My dad and our friend Seth said they had a bunch of donkeys at their tables. Mine, on the other hand, was stacked. Until this time my play with the famous players had been limited (a few before they got famous, a few others I played with for a blink of an eye), and I confess I was a bit flustered. I was less intimidated by their famous faces and more by the fact that any time I made a play they came over the top of me. I couldn't tell if they were pushing me around or legitimately had better hands, but I was definitely starting to tilt a tad. With a starting stack of $1500, it is quite costly to raise, miss a flop, and get forced out of hands. After a few of these, I looked down at jacks in first position. I raised and unassuming British bloke comes over the top. Here was my problem. This guy had been very, very quiet. He was not one of the players pushing me around. In fact, I hadn't really seen him play a hand at all. To come over the top of a first position raise in second position, this guy must have had a monster. I knew it. I told myself, "He obviously has a bigger pocket pair than you," but the stupid donkey fog that entered my brain somehow induced me to throw more chips in the pot and call. The flop came queen, rag, rag with two spades. I pushed all in with my last $500, hoping he 1) didn't have pocket queens and 2) might think I did. Unfortunately he called and pocket queens were exactly what he had. I gathered my belongings, chagrined to be out of a second WSOP event (the first, if you remember, was last year's Ladies Event) in the very first round. As I started to walk away, I heard screaming behind me. I turned to see another spade had come on the turn. I had the jack of spades, and British bloke's queens were red as blood. I laughed. "The spade is not coming," I announced, right before the spade hit the board. A note about my luck: I know that we all feel this way, so none of you will believe me, but in general, I don't have it. When the odds are against me, I lose and when the odds are with me, I often lose anyway (a piece on bad beats a few entries from now - I'm still paying karma back for this very hand). I'm convinced my race-winning percentage is abnormally low. I never play slots, blackjack, crap or any other games here the house has the edge because I might as well just hand over my pin number. I like poker specifically because I can manipulate luck and minimize its impact by creating my own odds and taking advantage of human error. On this particular day, however, Lady Luck was in the mood to help me out. I sat back down, embarrassed, and apologized to the British bloke who was unnecessarily kind. I almost never apologize for my rare suck-outs, because that's poker, but this one was bad. The fog, sense of intimidation and tilt cleared. I hunkered down and played solid poker from then on, determined to show the poker gods I deserved their bit of grace. Down at the other end of the table, Annie Duke was not having a great day, either. She missed a few flops in a big way and found herself short-stacked like I had been. She grabbed those few chips and began to wage war with them. All-in was her only move and she did it often. The second time she pushed in, I looked down at ace-queen. I sat and thought about the range of hands she'd be willing to gamble with. In a few I was an underdog, in a few I dominated, and in the rest, a slight favorite. With aces, kings, queens or ace-king, I had serious problems. With a pair, jacks or lower, I was in a race situation. With ace-anything jack or lower and queen-anything king or lower, I dominated and with any other combo, king-jack, king-ten, jack-ten, suited connectors, etc. I was a 60-40 favorite. Even though Annie was short stacked, her short stack was still about half the size of mine. Even though I would have loved to knock her out, I finally decided it wasn't worth it to commit half my chips when I had no idea where I stood and could easily end up losing a race or 60-40 shot anyway. I had nothing at stake in the pot and was actually the table chip leader at this point. There was no reason to gamble, so I folded. You guys can email me if you have another take. The poker gods, as we all know, have a sense of humor, so the next time Annie pushed, I once again looked down at ace-queen. I laughed and mucked. I had already made the decision - why agonize over it again? The table broke, and I took my not huge but pleasantly healthy stack to a nice sweet table of proper donkeys. No champs or bracelet winners in this crowd. I proceeded to build my stack, but sadly that table broke soon after I got there. Too bad! My next table was as tough as, or tougher than my first, filled with young aggressive players and the two toughest, unfortunately, just to my left. I played tight for a while, looking down at nothing but rags, rags, rags. With antes introduced, my stack was not quite as healthy as it had been. Finally, I look down at queens, again in early position, and raise the pot. An Asian player, who was clearly famous because the photographers kept coming, but I didn't recognize thought about it and pushed his very sizable stack all-in. Again it was time to sit back and think. I couldn't put him on aces, because he wouldn't have raised so much and possibly not at all. He might have pocket kings, preferring to win it right there than see an ace come on the flop. Most likely, I decided, he was A-K. He'd rather win the pot now, but would be happy to take the race. I would like to report that I made the brilliant read, called, won the race and doubled up but instead, I wimped out. My stack had dwindled some, but not yet dangerously, and I didn't want to get up just yet. I regret the decision. As the pros say, be in it to win it. I had the best of it, I was fairly certain I had the best of it, and I folded. I want to play fearlessly. Fear, be gone from my game! My opponent showed me the A-K of hearts after I mucked my queens. I may have been out in that hand if the ace, king or hearts fell, but I would not wonder later what might have been. As I was beating myself up, guess who grabbed the vacant seat next to me? If you guessed Annie Duke again, you can add a three-night, four-day trip to sunny Acapulco to your prize package. Her stack had grown a little, but we were both in the same boat - the S.S. Need to Double Up. I saw absolutely nothing else for a long while, more reason to make myself crazy for mucking the queens. About ten minutes before the dinner break, I turned to Annie, my now tiny stack in the palm of my hand. "What do you think the odds are I make it to dinner?" She looked at my stack, then at her watch and responded, "Pretty good." The very last hand before the break, I looked down at ace-eight off-suit. I wanted to make my first dinner break, but this was the best hand I'd seen since the queens. It was fold to me and I pushed all-in. The girl in the small blind, also a short stack, hemmed and hawed and, by the pain on her face, I think she may have had a better hand than me. She folded however, afraid like I had been to have to leave the table. After stacking the blinds and antes, I went off to dinner feeling slightly better, but still down on my fold and nervous about my prospects. In the immortal words of poker players everywhere, uttered as always from the mouth of Dad (who had been knocked out hours earlier), I had "a chip and a chair". Time for bed. I promise to finish at least this part of the story tomorrow. May all your jacks suck out like mine did. Sweet dreams. P.S. Remember to email me at brittani@hollywoodpoker.com with any comments or questions, even if just to tell me what a big giant donkey I am.
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