Another kid Another dream tl;dr
09-02-2012
, 04:03 PM
The White Gnoc
My Main Event came and went quickly. The combination of a horrid table draw, Bellagio Cup hangover, and an absurd river bluff shove, left me felted early on in the 2nd day of play. But that didn't mean I was out of action. Of the five swaps I made, 3 of them had advanced into the money round.
As they lived out the dream of the payment stages of the biggest tournament in the world I was out on Sahara maneuvering my way through the car lots of West Las Vegas. The brakes on my '05 Volvo resembled nails on a chalkboard, disturbing my million dollar day dreams one stoplight at a time. As the swapees texts' rolled in the prospective models of my Volvo's replacement were rightfully elevated. Deep finished off his torrid summer with a 23k score, while Joe parlayed a day 3 1.5bb stack into a 29k score of his own. As Jeremy's texts rolled in, the emblem was upgraded.
A prediction that I made here in June:http://www.pokercircuit.com/index.ph...erview-part-2/ was coming true more quickly then even his biggest fan could've imagined. With 40 players left in the Main Event Jeremy Ausmus was the chip leader. Even so, there's only so much reloading one can do of Pokernews chip counts without going mad. I had to get back to work.
I walked through the diminishing traffic of the Bellagio poker room to the cheers and congratulations of dealers and floor. Commonly mistaken for Jeremy in the past, this week's corrections were slightly more awkward as I explained that I was the one who got Q8 suited in against the Aces, not the guy with all the chips. "I'll keep correcting them for now" I told Jeremy after day 6, "But the moment I see it as an opportunity to get laid, best believe I am Jeremy Ausmus, Main Event chip leader. Implied millionaire."
With everything imaginable going my way, I was eyeing the 50/100NL games running nightly around a Miami business man with an overdue luckbox. "Daddy Fish" as he calls himself in 3rd person was on a month long heater. It was 3am as I passed by just in time to see him 5bet shove the J
3, the results reminding him that he was still, in fact, a genius.
I texted the usual suspects, but nobody responded to my mid-morning cries for cash. With the troops sound asleep, it was either take the beast on solo, or watch the likes of Eric Lui and Gnoc chip away at his ankles. It would be the biggest shot of my life, but if there ever was a time, it was now.
I sat down with a rack of blacks, my seat still warm from the last guy with dreams of cracking DF's empire of bricks A dream turned into stunning disbelief, tortured by the J3. What little information I had on DF came from Aussie Will Jones, a regular fixture in the 50/100 game. "He preys on shorties" Will told me via text "doesn't like it when they get in his way."
Little did I know that snidbit of information would directly affect the way I invested my ten thousand dollars of clay. DF opened early to $400 and received one call as it got to me in the CO. I looked down at 9
9 a typical sure call, especially early at a table. But with my knowledge of his hatred for short stackers, I chose to take the high variance route. I squeezed to $1400 shooting the action back to DF. With 60k in flags shuffling in and out of his left hand, his right grabbed one of his many 20k bricks and placed it in the pot…"raise".
The middle man quickly scurried and now it was back to me. Within five minutes at the table in the biggest game of my life, I'd gotten the money in the middle with 99. Don't try this at home.
The board ran out T
63
Q 8 leaving me no idea what to think of my mid pair. To lessen the burden on my racing heart I quickly flipped over my 99. One recheck and a confirming nod later and I was raking in the 20k pot.
DF was visibly frustrated by the end of the night. Calling off my $3400 river bet on a 66QTJ, his nods of compliance were replaced with groans of disgust and rapid hand movements as my QJ raked in the chips.
The game broke around 8am as I returned to the Meridian and a sleepless night in building 7. Thoughts raced through my mind faster then Jamaican sprinters, as I tried to comprehend the purpose of all this good fortune hitting me at once. I empathized with Walter White as I watched him from my pillow, turning into Heisenberg one batch at a time. Unexpected success was riveting. 50/100 was my meth.
I tried to play 10/20 the next day, but the task seemed meaningless, the ramifications lacked adrenaline. There was an open seat in the 50/1 game and despite my efforts to resist, my inner Heisenberg prevailed.
With two limpers, including DF in front of me i bumped up the KQ to 600 in the CO. The Bb a solid player cold called as did DF. On a QQ4 I bet 850, called only by the Bb. The young Euro had earlier called me two streets before surrendering on an AA47T board. I was hoping this memory remained as fresh to him as it was to me.
On a 9 turn I bet again when checked to, this time $2100. Again, I was called. The river brought the beautiful K. A great card not only because it solidified by lock on the hand but because he probably expects a young player to bluff this card. The final chapter of my story was a $5400 river bet. My opponent looked pained as he collected the flag and 4 blacks. He seesawed from side to side in his seat, while I remained still, hoping curiosity would prevail.
Minutes later, it would. I flipped over the bad news as he made the call, later telling me he had TT.
The game slowly got worse as DF tightened up and young Germans better than I and more accustomed to the stakes filled the empty seats. But before calling it quits I got tangled up in one more spot. DF limped as he often does and Alex Kuzmin isoed the btn to $500. With AQ and 10k effective stacks I bumped it up to $1600. The hand went from standard to bizarre when DF quietly tossed a flag into the middle. "Player calls" the dealer announced as DF chose to say nothing. I turned to Alex, he was equally confused, but also chose to call the bet. The Flop was J74 and after failing to decipher the problem at hand, I chose the check/give up route. To my surprise both players followed suit. The turn brought the game changer. The K not only added a flush draw, but hit my range way stronger than there's.
I bet $1925, confident the 2.5-1 I was getting on my bluff was more then profitable. DF gave a frustrated gasp before folding, leaving the action to Alex. "How much is the bet" he asked in his russian acent while counting his stacks and considering his options. A short time passed before he made the call. I took the time to consider whether a bet, check/call, or check/fold was best for the river. The 8 changed all my plans. The backdoor flush destroyed what little showdown value my A high held as I waved the white flag with a river check. With the action on him, Alex went deep into the tank; Though I was uninterested as all options emitted the same result for me.
Minutes later he emerged with a tap of the felt. Finally, my AQ was face up. Alex sat motionless, as I rechecked the strength of my hand. No ***** way I thought as it became more and more apparent that I held the winner. It became official when his hand hit the muck and a visibly surprised dealer pushed the chips my way.
DF left town for good that night as did the 50/1 game. I cashed out a 41k winner over my two day stint in the high stakes world. I embraced my self given nickname as "The White Gnoc" a tribute to how incredibly good I'd run in the biggest moments of time; But also held a sense of guilt for why these things were happening to me.
I've always told the undedicated that good things happen to players who put in the hours, while never knowing if I believed my own words. Could commitment actually outduel variance? I'm not mathematically sound enough and way too out of tune with the forces of nature to know for sure. What I do know is that sometimes things go my way, sometimes they don't. I've kept my confidence through the tough times and fought the evil temptation of ego through the good. And as I prepared to leave Vegas, almost 3 years after I'd first arrived, in the biggest games of my life, they held the one hand I could beat. I don't have the answers, just a sample size of one. My story, Another Kid Another Dream.
MM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RuV2agQPgps
My Main Event came and went quickly. The combination of a horrid table draw, Bellagio Cup hangover, and an absurd river bluff shove, left me felted early on in the 2nd day of play. But that didn't mean I was out of action. Of the five swaps I made, 3 of them had advanced into the money round.
As they lived out the dream of the payment stages of the biggest tournament in the world I was out on Sahara maneuvering my way through the car lots of West Las Vegas. The brakes on my '05 Volvo resembled nails on a chalkboard, disturbing my million dollar day dreams one stoplight at a time. As the swapees texts' rolled in the prospective models of my Volvo's replacement were rightfully elevated. Deep finished off his torrid summer with a 23k score, while Joe parlayed a day 3 1.5bb stack into a 29k score of his own. As Jeremy's texts rolled in, the emblem was upgraded.
A prediction that I made here in June:http://www.pokercircuit.com/index.ph...erview-part-2/ was coming true more quickly then even his biggest fan could've imagined. With 40 players left in the Main Event Jeremy Ausmus was the chip leader. Even so, there's only so much reloading one can do of Pokernews chip counts without going mad. I had to get back to work.
I walked through the diminishing traffic of the Bellagio poker room to the cheers and congratulations of dealers and floor. Commonly mistaken for Jeremy in the past, this week's corrections were slightly more awkward as I explained that I was the one who got Q8 suited in against the Aces, not the guy with all the chips. "I'll keep correcting them for now" I told Jeremy after day 6, "But the moment I see it as an opportunity to get laid, best believe I am Jeremy Ausmus, Main Event chip leader. Implied millionaire."
With everything imaginable going my way, I was eyeing the 50/100NL games running nightly around a Miami business man with an overdue luckbox. "Daddy Fish" as he calls himself in 3rd person was on a month long heater. It was 3am as I passed by just in time to see him 5bet shove the J
3, the results reminding him that he was still, in fact, a genius. I texted the usual suspects, but nobody responded to my mid-morning cries for cash. With the troops sound asleep, it was either take the beast on solo, or watch the likes of Eric Lui and Gnoc chip away at his ankles. It would be the biggest shot of my life, but if there ever was a time, it was now.
I sat down with a rack of blacks, my seat still warm from the last guy with dreams of cracking DF's empire of bricks A dream turned into stunning disbelief, tortured by the J
3. What little information I had on DF came from Aussie Will Jones, a regular fixture in the 50/100 game. "He preys on shorties" Will told me via text "doesn't like it when they get in his way." Little did I know that snidbit of information would directly affect the way I invested my ten thousand dollars of clay. DF opened early to $400 and received one call as it got to me in the CO. I looked down at 9
9 a typical sure call, especially early at a table. But with my knowledge of his hatred for short stackers, I chose to take the high variance route. I squeezed to $1400 shooting the action back to DF. With 60k in flags shuffling in and out of his left hand, his right grabbed one of his many 20k bricks and placed it in the pot…"raise".The middle man quickly scurried and now it was back to me. Within five minutes at the table in the biggest game of my life, I'd gotten the money in the middle with 99. Don't try this at home.
The board ran out T
63 Q 8 leaving me no idea what to think of my mid pair. To lessen the burden on my racing heart I quickly flipped over my 99. One recheck and a confirming nod later and I was raking in the 20k pot. DF was visibly frustrated by the end of the night. Calling off my $3400 river bet on a 66QTJ, his nods of compliance were replaced with groans of disgust and rapid hand movements as my QJ raked in the chips.
The game broke around 8am as I returned to the Meridian and a sleepless night in building 7. Thoughts raced through my mind faster then Jamaican sprinters, as I tried to comprehend the purpose of all this good fortune hitting me at once. I empathized with Walter White as I watched him from my pillow, turning into Heisenberg one batch at a time. Unexpected success was riveting. 50/100 was my meth.
I tried to play 10/20 the next day, but the task seemed meaningless, the ramifications lacked adrenaline. There was an open seat in the 50/1 game and despite my efforts to resist, my inner Heisenberg prevailed.
With two limpers, including DF in front of me i bumped up the K
Q to 600 in the CO. The Bb a solid player cold called as did DF. On a QQ4 I bet 850, called only by the Bb. The young Euro had earlier called me two streets before surrendering on an AA47T board. I was hoping this memory remained as fresh to him as it was to me. On a 9
turn I bet again when checked to, this time $2100. Again, I was called. The river brought the beautiful K. A great card not only because it solidified by lock on the hand but because he probably expects a young player to bluff this card. The final chapter of my story was a $5400 river bet. My opponent looked pained as he collected the flag and 4 blacks. He seesawed from side to side in his seat, while I remained still, hoping curiosity would prevail. Minutes later, it would. I flipped over the bad news as he made the call, later telling me he had TT.
The game slowly got worse as DF tightened up and young Germans better than I and more accustomed to the stakes filled the empty seats. But before calling it quits I got tangled up in one more spot. DF limped as he often does and Alex Kuzmin isoed the btn to $500. With A
Q and 10k effective stacks I bumped it up to $1600. The hand went from standard to bizarre when DF quietly tossed a flag into the middle. "Player calls" the dealer announced as DF chose to say nothing. I turned to Alex, he was equally confused, but also chose to call the bet. The Flop was J74 and after failing to decipher the problem at hand, I chose the check/give up route. To my surprise both players followed suit. The turn brought the game changer. The K not only added a flush draw, but hit my range way stronger than there's.I bet $1925, confident the 2.5-1 I was getting on my bluff was more then profitable. DF gave a frustrated gasp before folding, leaving the action to Alex. "How much is the bet" he asked in his russian acent while counting his stacks and considering his options. A short time passed before he made the call. I took the time to consider whether a bet, check/call, or check/fold was best for the river. The 8
changed all my plans. The backdoor flush destroyed what little showdown value my A high held as I waved the white flag with a river check. With the action on him, Alex went deep into the tank; Though I was uninterested as all options emitted the same result for me.Minutes later he emerged with a tap of the felt. Finally, my AQ was face up. Alex sat motionless, as I rechecked the strength of my hand. No ***** way I thought as it became more and more apparent that I held the winner. It became official when his hand hit the muck and a visibly surprised dealer pushed the chips my way.
DF left town for good that night as did the 50/1 game. I cashed out a 41k winner over my two day stint in the high stakes world. I embraced my self given nickname as "The White Gnoc" a tribute to how incredibly good I'd run in the biggest moments of time; But also held a sense of guilt for why these things were happening to me.
I've always told the undedicated that good things happen to players who put in the hours, while never knowing if I believed my own words. Could commitment actually outduel variance? I'm not mathematically sound enough and way too out of tune with the forces of nature to know for sure. What I do know is that sometimes things go my way, sometimes they don't. I've kept my confidence through the tough times and fought the evil temptation of ego through the good. And as I prepared to leave Vegas, almost 3 years after I'd first arrived, in the biggest games of my life, they held the one hand I could beat. I don't have the answers, just a sample size of one. My story, Another Kid Another Dream.
MM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RuV2agQPgps
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