LATEsummer’s Night Dream (2 of 4)

As you may recall, the purpose of PokerScars was for the three of us (yes—do recall that at one point not so many months back, I had two partners in crime {or, at least, if you follow the statues, crime in some states}) to elevate our skills and to some day participate in the World Series of Poker (“WSOP”). Alas, my amigos have shuffled off, but here remains the stubborn Badger.

And as it so happens, the Badger was slated to be in Sin City over the 4th of July weekend, for a buddy’s 40th Birthday party—wives, believe it or not, in tow.

The Badger considers himself a beginner-intermediate player (confirmed by reading accounts in CardPlayer of pros three-raising from the Button with hands like 5,6s—I just ain’t quite making that play yet!)

That said, per my prior posting, I was runnin’ pretty good in Vegas, and had some extra cash on hand—what better to do than squander it on a WSOP super-satellite?

My buddy Geoff and I headed over to the Rio, arriving at 2:55 p.m. for the 3 p.m. super-satellite to the big dance. I was promptly told that as I am not a US citizen, I would need a passport to participate. Badger was perplexed, frustrated, and distraught: in a word, on tilt. Luckily, a Harrah’s manager took pity upon the poor (in every sense of the word) Badger. I was registered—my card, which I still have, reads “3:29 p.m.”

By the time I waddled to the Amazon room and checked in to one table, and waited for a seat assignment, it was 3:55 p.m. Needless to say, I had already been blinded down significantly (this was a turbo format tournament).

I was infinitely naïve to think that this would be like my local tourneys in Palm Springs or the Okanagan, where I could waltz in two minutes before cards hit the air, and play.

I sat down with my already-compromised stack and watched the action: there were two aggressive players that seemed to know what they were doing. They did indeed. Within about 10 hands, three of the others at the table had been unceremoniously dispatched. I continued to garner only rags, but was continuing to blind down, so I made a few desperate late-position bluffs. Pfew, no callers.

Perhaps an hour into the tourney, the first break occurred. As I was being helped to my next table, I was informed that half the field had already perished—and I had yet to win a sizable pot.
After the break, the blinds were wrenched higher yet again (these Harrah’s folks really did seem in a rush to end the satellite).

I sat tight, waiting for something, anything I could make a play with. Finally, in the BB, I looked down and saw an Ace-Deuce—my first ace in an hour. I had no illusion about its strength—serious kicker trouble, to be certain!—but, with only about 6 big blinds, I was desperate. A player in middle-position raised to about 4x the big blind. The rest of the players folded around to me.

It was unlikely that a player in middle position would bluff. So he presumably had one of two hands: a pocket pair or a big ace. If it was the former, I would have a chance to catch an ace and double-up. If it was the later, the Badger would be a big, big dog. I held my nose (figuratively) and pushed. He snap-called and turned over A-Jo. While an Ace did hit the board, his Jack kicker held up. Badger was bounced somewhere around the 40th percentile: nothing to be proud of, but not a complete disaster.

Take-aways?

1. (Especially in turbo format tourneys): Get even more aggressive, even earlier—even when card-dead.

2. Next time around: attempt to win a seat by 1-table satellite. I think I am better at that type of format. But I’ll let you know in about 10 months!

3. Arrive on time for poker tourneys--despite what the Poker Brat says, the Poker Gods frown upon dilatory players!!