Poker's Three-Ring Circus

Ken Adams Can't Buy A Break At The World Series Of Poker

(CBS) 
After bowling on Monday morning, I went through my prep drill (reviewing a list of reminders not to make the same mistakes that have cost me in the past) and headed over to the Rio to compete in the $1,000 No Limit Hold'em event.

It turned out that 2,890 other players had the same idea. Because they did not have enough tables and dealers to handle the record starting field, they made us play 11-handed instead of 9-handed for the first few hours. With that many hands being dealt, the odds are high that someone has a strong hand and so there is much less "action." The fewer players, the weaker the average hand tends to be and the more "play."

Each player started with 1500 chips. I was playing well, picking up small pots when I missed the flop but correctly gauged that my opponent did, too, and picking up several big pots when I was dealt a pair of aces (twice) and a pair of kings.

After two hours of play, I had increased my starting stack to 5500. Then they closed our table and redistributed us among the empty seats that had opened up at other tables. I found myself with Greg Mueller on my left – a former pro hockey player and a very good professional poker player. I got very little to work with at my new table, and my stack started to dwindle.

Somewhere halfway through the fifth hour, with my stack down to about 2600, I lost discipline and patience. I overplayed three mediocre hands trying to run over my opponent each time. Each time (s)he called with a better hand. And by 6:30, I was eliminated.

I had gotten off to a good start, building a good stack in the early stage of the tournament. When that occurs you have to capitalize on it, as it does not happen that often. I was very disappointed with myself for blowing a good opportunity.

On the other hand, I know that it always takes me a few days to play my way back into shape after a long layoff. That is why I try to schedule my WSOP trip so that the first event I play is a low buy-in. I know it is not realistic to think I can play once every few months and play mistake-free poker against strong competition.

Still, it was a wasted opportunity and I was determined to make amends. So I grabbed a quick bite to eat at the fast food tent set up outside the tournament area and put my name on the waiting list for a seat in the next $525 satellite.

When they called the list and I went to the table, I had second thoughts. It was a very tough field: a woman named Bev who used to run the satellite room at the World Series and is a very experienced satellite player; Johann Storakers, a successful young Swedish pro; Jim McManus, author of the highly acclaimed poker book "Positively Fifth Street" and a finalist in the championship event a few years ago; as well as a Middle Eastern player named Ali whom I have seen at all the major tournaments year in and year out. The rest were unknowns.

We started with 1500. Things were going along fine, I had built up my stack to 2250 playing aggressively but prudently, when I picked up the ace and queen of clubs in late position (a strong hand in favorable position). I raised and was called by McManus (who wrote a great book but is kind of a jerk). The flop came ace of diamonds-6-2 of diamonds. I bet about half the pot, hoping he would call.

Instead he moved all in. I was confident that I had the best hand and that he was trying to move me off the pot with either a flush draw or a lesser ace. I was sure he would not make such a large bet with two pair or better, as he would not want to scare me off if he had me beaten.

I called and he turned over the 5 and 7 of diamonds. He needed a diamond to win; otherwise I would double up and would be the chip leader. At that point I was a 60-40 favorite. To my chagrin he caught a diamond on the river and I was eliminated. (Happily, Bev knocked McManus out later so he did not profit from my misfortune.)

Feeling I had played well but gotten unlucky, and too stubborn to give up yet, I signed up for a $275 table. I never won a single hand. The best hand I was dealt was A-10. I moved all in against a player who called with a pair of 6s. She was a slight favorite before the flop — and when a 6 came on the flop it was over.

Next I played a $325 table. I was eliminated when my A-K flopped top pair (K-8-2), I moved all in and lost to a pair of aces.

At this point, I was having flashbacks to last year’s WSOP, when I simply could not catch a break. But I still felt like I was playing well enough to win if the cards would cooperate, and giving up is not something I have ever been good at. So I signed up for another $525 table.

It was a good field — no known pros, and only two people I recognized as regulars at the tables. I got my share of cards, made the most of what I was dealt, and eventually it got down to three of us. Then I busted the short-stacked player and was heads up with about a third of the chips. The other guy offered me a split that I did not think was fair, so I made a counterproposal I thought was more fair. He declined, though we agreed to a “save,” meaning that whoever lost would get his $525 buy-in back.

In two-handed play, any hand with an ace is strong. But with a mere ace-2, I was not looking for action. I moved all in, hoping to pick up the blinds and antes. He thought a long time, shrugged his shoulders and said "you have the best hand, but I’ll gamble with you." He turned over the 5 and 6 of spades. The flop was J-9-2, with one spade. I was a big favorite. Fourth street was another J. At that point, unless he caught a 6 or 5 on fifth street, I would double up and he would be the short stack.

I nearly jumped out of my chair when a 6 fell on the river. But for that card I would have won $3,500 and redeemed what had been a long day of losing sessions. Instead, I only got my buy-in back and went to bed around 2 a.m. night disappointed.

In my next column I will report on the next day’s events.