You had me at 'schnook'. I haven't used that word in 30+ years. GL.

Wow, you definitely have a way with words sir and I love your writing style!
I am a Michigander, Tom Brady fan and a my brother graduated from Michigan College of Engineering.

Please keep writing your TRs (past, present and future). You have many grateful readers refreshing this TR and waiting the next installment.

This.

TRs are about the experiences.
Writing that is clever, humorous, professionally presented, etc is just lagniappe!

Aye. I find something to enjoy in basically every TR.

I think part of what's fun about them is just seeing how other people experience Vegas. It's a big enough place that two people can go there on vacation and do none of the same things. Even from a poker standpoint, you have your cash players, MTT players, low stakes, high stakes, PLO, etc. Everybody is doing it differently.

Fair enough. I’ll stick to the picture book variety, allow my illustrations to make up for lack of writing prowess.

I played the Senior's last year - 2 days 1s, straight into 2 day 1s of Millionaire Maker. Senior's was a far more enjoyable experience

2019 World Series of Poker, Flight 1A of the Big 50, May 30
Aces vs kings raising wars; poker is easy; bagging chips

I try to prepare myself for the fact that the poker sharks will see me for the dead money that I probably am. Are they going to run me over from the opening shuffle up and deal? Amazingly, that is not what happened on the first day of my maiden voyage.

First, an aside. In the blink of an eye, something weird happened at my table. On the third hand of the day, a guy in seat 7 was dealt AA and doubled up against a guy with KK. That’s not the weird part. A cooler, yes. Weird, no. The weird part came a few hands later when someone showed up saying that Double-Up Guy was in his seat. The floor was called and it turned out Double-Up Guy was at the wrong table. He got to keep his bounty of chips and was moved to the correct table. Never would have gotten the double up if he’d been at the proper table.

But this is my trip report, not Double-Up Guy’s, so back to me. You all know the much overquoted line that if you can’t find the sucker at the table it is probably you? Well, at this table, it was not inexperienced me. Two to my left was a guy who claimed to have won a circuit ring recently, and after a few orbits I did in fact believe he was the best player at the table, so I was somewhat careful trying to steal his blinds early on. But I kept trying to figure out who else at the table was very good. I looked … and I looked … and I looked. What I saw was that this table was, dare I say it, pretty damn soft. Was I being full of myself? Was I overrating my ability? Was I just not seasoned enough to recognize game? I told myself to be careful. I told myself not to get overconfident. But other than Circuit-Ring Guy, no one else at the table seemed especially scary.

In level 1, I mostly treaded water. In Levels 2-4, I saw nice steady increases to my chip stack with absolutely no speed bumps. Then in Level 5, the dream scenario unfolded. We got a new player added to the table, who was loud and seemingly intent on announcing his presence with authority. He let us all know with great fanfare that he had just gotten knocked out on a bad beat and was now joining our table firing his second bullet. Who brags about getting knocked out early? He immediately lost a couple of small pots on his first two hands in which he limped pre-flop. On his third hand, he raised from middle position. I was the player to his immediate left and I looked down at Ac-Ah. Loud New Guy didn’t strike me as having a folding button so I re-raised. A raising war ensued and all the chips went into the middle. As we were about to turn over our cards, a player not in the hand announced, “Aces versus kings.” He was not wrong. Loud New Guy had Kc-Kd. The flop, turn and river were all low cards and Loud New Guy was done for the day at record speed while the dealer pushed a boatload of chips my way.

I then got to do the best thing imaginable for a first-timer. Stacking chips. Lots of chips. Heaps of chips. Beautiful chips. Not exactly a massive tower this early in the tournament, but glorious to see all the same. Once I got done admiring my chip stack (I showed restraint, barely, and didn’t take a selfie) a thought popped into my head: At this point whenever I had gotten to showdown, I always had it. My bluffs had pretty much all worked without reaching showdown. So, my table image was that I did not get out of line, and I’m sure my graying hair caused them to label me either tight aggressive or a Nit. After my double up I was the chip leader at this table, and I started raising more frequently (not as a Maniac, but aggressively). No one played back at me. Not even Circuit-Ring Guy. It became clear that no one wanted to get in a hand with me unless they had a premium hand. I wasn’t winning big pots since everyone was folding to my aggression, but I was winning small pot after small pot after small pot. Poker is easy!!!!!!

During the end of Level 6, my table broke, which was unfortunate. And by unfortunate, I mean catastrophic. I wanted to stay at that table forever. I wanted to pay rent to stay at that table. I wanted to grow old(er) and retire at that table. Instead, I was moved to a much tougher table where the player next to me was the third-place finisher of the previous night’s $10,000 turbo tournament. He was Asher Conniff, and he was seated to my immediate right. I believe he won about $175,000 including bounties in that high stake turbo tournament. I recognized him from the night before when I was getting the lay of the land and had stopped briefly to gawk at the high roller tourney going on. Naturally, this morning I had gone online to see who the big winners were. Now seated next to him I said, “Didn’t you just run deep at last night’s high roller?” He said yes, third place. I congratulated him. This got the attention of everyone at the table. Congratulations all around. Hey, we’re one big happy family. Kumbaya! A moment later, we all reverted to trying to rob each other blind.

Levels 7 and 8, I do not get out of line since I wasn’t getting dealt good cards and I was trying to focus on how everyone else was playing at this new table (they fight harder for pots after the flop than my previous table, yet they don’t go broke on good but not premium hands at showdown). After two levels of mostly folding, folding and for good measure more folding, I had built a very tight image and I had more or less tread water. I did play a few hands and chipped up a little, which was not terrible. In Level 9, I decided to use my tight table image and start getting out of line, and to my surprise no one seemed to recognize my change in play. I went from 165,500 chips at the end of level 8 to 241,000 chips at the end of Level 9. The big jump in chips was due to my new found aggression and then toward the end of the level when someone finally looked me up and then played back at me on the river, it turned out I had trips. Given that when I finally had to turn over my cards at showdown I had trips, I decide that I can continue to push the envelope and act as though I am just getting a hot run of cards. Eventually I push it too far with nothing but air and get caught with my hand in the cookie jar, dropping my chip count down to $201,000 at the end of the next level. At this point I decided to slow down for the time being since I suspected the jig was up.

Five hands short of the night’s finish, our dealer asks that the chip leader handle the color up. There were a bunch of very healthy stacks at the table, but I may have been the chip leader. Not sure. As a WSOP newbie, I wasn’t very good at telling how many chips the guys at the other end of the table had. Given my lack of experience it was all I could do to hold my own at this much tougher table without an added task being thrown my way. I did not volunteer that I may have been chip leader. If I had to guess, I’d say half the table had similar amounts of chips. Until the dealer announced who the chip leader was, I figured stone cold silence was my friend. Tournament pro Asher, who I think I had covered by a little bit, showed me (the old guy at the table) mercy and he took over the color up duties (thank you, thank you, thank you!!). Having significantly tightened up my play the last couple of levels, I now hit the gas with modest holdings and ended up stealing the blinds in three of the last five hands since everyone at the table to my left seemed pretty content to call it a night. I’m not sure I would have gotten aggressive again in these last few hands if I were busy converting everyone’s little chips to slightly bigger chips. (I’ve rooted for Asher ever since for his small act of kindness). My last pre-flop raise got through and bags were passed out to every player at the table.

For those keeping score, my chip count at the end of each level was as follows (starting stack 50,000):

Level 1: 48,500
Level 2: 65,000
Level 3: 73,500
Level 4: 83,000
Level 5: 145,000
Level 6: 159,800
Level 7: 162,000
Level 8: 165,500
Level 9: 241,000
Level 10: 201,000
Level 11: 195,000
Level 12: 216,000

I had survived a full day/night of poker. I had not done anything monumentally stupid. I had not been mocked for poor play. I had not been sent to the rail. I was still alive with a very solid number of chips. Day 2 play would resume tomorrow at 5pm.

By the way, in case you missed the point, I’M BAGGING CHIPS! … IN MY FIRST WSOP TOURNAMENT! Yeah, yeah, I get it. Bagging chips is not an actual accomplishment. I’M BAGGING CHIPS!!!!!!! Yeah, yeah, I get it. I haven’t actually cashed. I’M BAGGING CHIPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Terrible ruing. They should've tried to find KK guy and give him his chips back. Regardless, the chips should've stayed on the table and the dumbass shouldn't have gotten any of them.

You make an interesting point. I didn't question the ruling in my mind at the time because, given my inexperience, I just assumed the floor knew what they were doing on the ruling. It would have been difficult to find KK guy since he had left the table by then since the AA opponent's hand busted him. I imagine that, had the KK guy still had a pittance of chips so that he was still at the table, there would undoubtedly have been an extremely heated exchange over the ruling.

floor should have kept him there and move the new player to a different table. too much happened

Can we say this or is it too early?

Candidate for HOF thread incoming!!!

Keep up the great story-telling and good luck this year - will be rooting for you!

Scoreboard

Full results from Day 1A get posted. There were 6,148 entrants with 1,579 of those players remaining. I am in the top one-third or so in chips. Tomorrow at my table the player two to my left is the (at the time) all-time winningest player in terms of WSOP circuit championships who has the 37th most chips heading into Day 2A of this tournament. While I am playing in Day 2A, Day 1B of the same tournament is underway with days 1C and 1D to follow. When all is said and done, this tournament is the biggest poker tourney of all time.

Subscribed for Epic Bread and Excellent Writing!

2019 World Series of Poker, day 3 (May 31, 2019)
A massive delay to start Day 2, the money bubble approaches, an unexpectedly quiet Maurice Hawkins, I stomp on the accelerator and go for it – three of a kind vs. three of a kind

Day 2 of Flight A of the Big 50 for me. We were supposed to start at 5:00 p.m., but because there were so many people playing in Flight B, Day 1 of the Big 50 (there would ultimately be 28,371 entries in the Big 50, making it the biggest ever live tournament, hey I’m part of history) plus I suspect other tournaments, there is a massive delay to the start of my Day 2. Apparently, there are not enough tables available, so we have to wait. The frustrating part was they couldn’t give us a new starting time. They just said stay close and we’ll let you know.

So, I waited … and waited … and waited. And then … let me check my notes … I waited some more. For my fellow Day 2 waitees, tension is reaching DEFCON 3. Anger is bubbling to the top. I hope they are this impatient once the cards are in the air at my table. If I were good at it, this would be the time to calmly meditate. Alas, the one time I tried to meditate, I was told to empty my mind and don’t think about anything. And it went like this for me: “Empty your mind. Empty … mind. Think of nothing. Think of nothing. Think of nothing. Think of … think of ... nothing. Mmmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmm. Is there a football game on TV? Doh!!!!!!!!!!!!! Empty mind. Don’t think … Don’t think … Don’t think, Meat. Bull Durham sure is a great movie. ARGHHHHH! I can’t stop thinking!” And then I stopped after a grand total of … 60 seconds. Is that good?

Eventually it is finally announced that we should head to our Day 2A tables, and we got started. I’M UNBAGGING CHIPS!! Based upon a Hendon Mob search, I knew there were two for certain professionals at my table, and two other players who may or may not have been pros (lifetime earnings of just shy of $250,000). The overwhelming chip leader at my table at the start of play was Maurice Hawkins, he of double-digit WSOP circuit ring fame. He was seated two to my left. Early on he was not at all active. I did not get out of line against him, but the couple of times I raised his blinds he folded which means a) he had junk hands, b) he saw that I was an older player and figured I was a tight player who had a real hand, or c) he was taking his time early on to figure out how people were playing. In addition to being inactive, he was also quite quiet, which surprised me given his reputation for table talk.

In any event, my chip stack was solid when a monster hand developed fairly near the money bubble. At this point I had stolen blinds an appropriate but not out of line number of times and had not been to showdown, so I don’t think I had much of an established table image. Blinds were starting to get up there, but no reason to panic. In the cutoff I was dealt Qh-Qd. The UTG player who had not been terribly active raised 3x the big blind. UTG+2 called. At this point UTG+2 had been the most active player at the table, choosing to just call a lot of pre-flop raises and then trying to take down hands post-flop. Based upon the information I had, UTG was not likely to be splashing around with junk but I did not have enough information to know if he was a Nit or just had been getting bad cards before this hand. I felt very confident that UTG+2’s range was highly likely to be trailing my Q-Q. Based upon my chip stack, my options were fold, call or go all-in.

Yes, I could have folded my way into the money. I’m not going to lie, the idea of cashing in my first tournament at my first WSOP was a thrilling thought. But come on, folding Q-Q in this spot would be gutless. And I felt you can’t just call here since Q-Q three ways is not massively desirable once the flop hits. I felt going all-in was the best option. I was certain UTG+2 would fold if UTG called. I felt that UTG+2 was capped at middle pair to J-J or an ace with a good but not top kicker.

UTG, however, was an uncertainty. I figured him for 10-10 or better along with A-K and maybe A-Q suited. As I saw it, I could be a coward and fold, or go all-in and either get two folds (unlikely but I’d gladly take it), get knocked out (booooo!!!) or win the hand after getting called and have enough chips to be dangerous (yes please). I figured the whole point was to give myself a chance at a deep run rather than just try to min cash. So, I went for it. When the action worked itself around to me, I went all-in. I believe I could have raised without going all-in, but doing so would have meant I was pot committed if someone put me all-in so I figured I’d go for it all, perhaps increasing fold equity and the possibility that I could take the pot down without needing to see any cards turned over.

UTG, who had me slightly covered, then proceeded to tank for at least two minutes. This was unusual since everyone at the table had been making decisions in like 3-4 seconds or less up until now. Thus, two minutes seemed like an eternity. I figured, optimist that I am, this meant he had a difficult decision, which would mean I was either ahead or we would be flipping. Unless he had fallen asleep (unlikely) the remaining possibility was that he was Hollywooding with A-A, trying to induce UTG+2 to call as well.

UTG finally announced he was all-in (please be A-K). UTG+2 insta-folded and showed 10-10 face up. Cards were turned over and UTG had Ac-As. My Qh-Qd was in big trouble.

The flop came Qs in the window. OMG, I flopped a set of queens. Half a second of delirious joy, poker is easy! Followed by a harmless 2c … and then … Ah. Poker is difficult.

And there was much sadness.

My three queens were crushed by a trio of aces. There would be no one-outer miracle case queen on the turn or river and I was out. Hawkins, who was not in the hand, leaned into the table, reached over and tapped the table twice right in front of where I was seated. I don’t know if that meant he respected my decision to go all-in, or if he was sad that the inexperienced, gray-haired, poker old-timer had been knocked out before he could be the one to relieve me of my chips.

I got up, wished everyone good luck and proceeded to walk the hallways of the Rio for a good 15 minutes in stunned disbelief, trying to decide if there was any way I could have played the hand differently. Back and forth I walked the hallways. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Had I made a colossal blunder, or was I right to go for it all? I didn’t know about solvers at the time, so the question went unanswered. Lacking poker friends at the WSOP, I had no one to ask. I certainly wasn’t going to go up to a total stranger with my tale of woe and ask for feedback.

What I was left with was glassy-eyed disbelief. The only time I have ever felt that numb, unable to process what I’d just seen were two University of Michigan football games I attended in the past (my alma mater where I’ve had season tickets since 1980). The first game was the 1994 Kordell Stewart miracle game where Michigan had the lead against Colorado with one play to go only to see Stewart uncork a 70-yard thunderbolt of a Hail Mary pass on the game’s final play, which got tipped in the air and then caught by a Colorado receiver for the touchdown and a miracle reversal of fortune. The other game was Michigan against Michigan State in 2015 where on the final play of the game all Michigan’s punter had to do to ensure the win was catch the snap and kick it (I don’t think Michigan State even had a punt returner back). Instead, the Michigan punter dropped the snap, got spun around, chaos ensued and Michigan State picked up the ball and ran it back for the gut-wrenching winning touchdown. In both cases I just stood there in the stands unable to comprehend the cataclysmic, volcanic, earth-shattering, sinkhole swallowing, tsunami of a disaster that had just happened. I believe in both of these games, my best friend and I just stood there in deafening silence for who knows how long before one of us said to the other, “Let’s get the F#^k out of here,”

Admittedly, I was not a favorite in the QQ vs AA hand, but that is the type of incomprehensible pain I felt in the immediate aftermath. At those two football games I never even considered the possibility that my team could lose on the final play, and then, out of nowhere, catastrophic agony that I will never forget and NEVER get over. At the WSOP just before the set over set hand commenced, I was minding my own business, plenty of chips, feeling calm and serene, the money bubble is just around the corner, all is well with the world, and then in an instant, BAM, I’m poker roadkill.

In any event, after 15 minutes of walking the RIO hallways I had not come up with any answers or feel-good insights into what had just happened. It was at that point that I did the only thing a poker player can do when they are in my shoes at the World Series of Poker …

… I got in line and registered for the next day’s tournament.

Noooooo

The painful fake suck out

I like the jam pre. Clearly the result would have been the same if you called. No way I’d ever fold that pre, but also I’m not good.

I don’t know who this guy is, but I’ll never forget this face:





QQ is a fist pump ship in that spot, there is no second guessing that

Subbing! Run great at WSOP!

The inner poker fish in me says I wish I had folded my way to the money, since cashing in my first WSOP tourney ever would have been so validating.

The inner shark in me that is trying to get out says that going for it in that spot is what it takes to get a big chip stack and run deep in a tournament. I just have to tell myself not to be results oriented. I just have to tell myself that there are a lot more AK combinations in the deck than there are AA combinations in this instance. I have to keep telling myself that one deep run will be far more profitable than 2 or 3 min cashes. I have to keep telling myself that monsters are not always under the bed, even though they were there in this particular instance. I hope I remember this if a similar spot occurs in my still-to-come 2024 WSOP.

Very tough to get away from QQ pre-flop unless you are very deep stacked. That's simply a setup spot. It will come back to you eventually in reverse.

Yeah I mean stack sizes are important but anything less than 30bb it’s pretty much just a cooler unless you’re right on the bubble

I folded QW near the bubble of my first wsop event tbh. But we were about 5 off the bubble and it was utg open and utg+1 3 bet. I had 15bb and was in MP

Ever since I decided to do this trip report, I have been looking forward to seeing what the response would be on this QQ bust out hand. At the time in 2019 I thought I had made the right decision to jam pre-flop, but the biggest drawback to doing a solo trip is not having anyone to bounce hands off of in the immediate aftermath. Especially when you are as inexperienced as I was. That hand weighed on me for a long time back in 2019.

I appreciate everyone's feedback.

I think I would have folded in that multi-way pot. even if you are up against AK it is still a flip. get in the money, you are deep enough to get some ladders. the effects of getting knocked out are way bigger than doubling up there.
I would rather fold and be wrong than jam and lose a flip (or face AA or KK)

One way you MIGHT have won is if you just called. Something I might have done to see if the flop comes out with A or K. I might not have too. Anyway, the Q flops, you act all happy and check raise all-in, and the brilliant AA player folds. :-)

My Day 2 went pretty smooth, in part because I didn't get any big hands pre. I won just enough to maintain a 30-40 bb stack, until I went card-dead the last few levels to end the day to have 20 bigs to start Day 3. Maybe it's good sometimes to not have any big hands.

First trip report I have read in years, and I am glad I found it. You're an incredible writer, really know how to keep your audience hooked. Enough of the compliments, let me get back to reading!

World Series of Poker, Flight 1C of the Big 50, day 4 (June 1):
Snap calling with ace high; Table Maniac calls a river bet with only 10 high; Man plans, Poker Gods laugh

I began a new day and a new tournament (well, actually the same Big 50 event, but a new flight) in good spirits. I had put yesterday’s disappointment behind me and was looking forward to playing more No Limit Hold’em.

Early on in Level 2, I played my favorite hand of my entire WSOP. A player three to my left was the considerable chip leader at the table. Early in Level 1 he made the nuts with a straight in one hand and a full house in another. Even better for him, in both hands his opponent had a big premium hand and he got paid off handsomely. After that he decided to become Table Captain. After a while I noticed a pattern to his play. He was seeing a ton of flops. He would bet on the flop and either take it down or get called. If his post-flop bet would get called, he would check on the turn, and then make a good-sized bet on the river which was getting through every time.

No one else at the table had showed a willingness to look him up on his river bet. I decided to target him. I was looking for an excuse to get in a hand with him. Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Table Captain raised pre-flop, everyone folded to me in the big blind and I called with Ad-9h. The flop came 2h-3d-6s. I checked, he bet, I called. The turn came 8d. Check-check. The river came 2s. I checked. Table Captain made his usual healthy river bet and I snap-called, practically beating him into the pot with my chips. He turned over Qs-7c for nothing but air. I turned over my Ad-9h for nothing but air, but better air than his, and I won the hand. When he saw my cards there was an initial look of shock on his face, followed by a sheepish grin and then he nodded at me. Respect. Aretha Franklin R … E … S … P … E … C … T. After that, Table Captain did not raise me even one time when we were in hands together. Also, after this hand in Level 2, I started to get more aggressive and people were folding to my raises a lot.

For a number of levels, it was very smooth sailing with the exception of a hand in Level 5 where my A-K offsuit did not improve (something that happened a lot throughout my entire WSOP) and I lost to A-9 offsuit on a 9-high runout that cost me about 25% of my chip stack.

Despite being card dead almost the entire day, at the end of Level 8 my chip stack had reached its high of the day at 116,000 thanks to some timely/successful bluffs. It was then, in Level 9, that the Poker Gods displayed an unusual (and by unusual, I mean despicable) sense of humor.

During the hand before THE hand, a player at the other end of the table (an absolute raging Maniac) was involved as usual. This guy was playing an insanely high percentage of the hands. Anyway, in the hand before THE hand, the table’s tightest player made a healthy river bet. Table Maniac called and turned over, wait for it, nothing but 10 high. Against the table’s tightest player. What????? Obviously 10 high was not close to good. The player next to me whispered to me, “Did I just see that right? Did he actually call with 10 high?” I confirmed that, yes, he had called with only 10 high against a mega-tight player who had a straight.

That is the backdrop for THE hand that took place next. Pre-flop the action folded to Table Maniac who limped. It folded to me in the big blind. I saw I had Qs-8s, and I just called. The flop came Qd-8c-2h. Wheeeeeeeee! I had flopped the world against a hyper aggressive lunatic. Normally I would have just checked to induce a bluff, but Table Maniac, in addition to playing too many hands, was also a total calling station. His folding range … did … not … exist. I led out, and he called my bet. The turn was a 4s. I bet. Table Maniac called. The river was the 9h. I was about to bet, but the Table Maniac appeared to have really perked up when the river card was turned over. Throughout my entire WSOP trip, I did not look for physical tells. I figured I lacked the experience to effectively read tells and I certainly wasn’t good enough to sense fake tells. But this guy seemed very transparent, so I just checked. The river really seemed like he thought it was a good card for him. To my surprise, he checked back. I turned over my two pair (queens and 8s). Table Maniac turned over a better two pair (queens and 9s). A loud murmur could be heard from the other players. Against a Table Maniac who had just called a big river bet with only 10 high, I had lost two pair to a better two pair on the river. Just a brutal river card.

Talk about a gut punch. I think I played it as well as I could have. When I was behind pre-flop and after the river, I put zero chips into the pot. When I was ahead after the flop and turn, I put chips in the middle. I did everything right, but I guess this was a case of man plans, Poker Gods laugh. I wasn’t at all amused.

I told myself this sucked but that I should not go on tilt and punt away the rest of my chips. Play fundamentally sound. I treaded water the rest of the level, stealing blinds a couple of times, but otherwise finding no playable hands.

Early in Level 10, I started getting playable hands. A smaller stack than me went all in preflop with 7s-7h. I called with Ad-Kd. In the recurring theme of my trip, my A-K did not improve, I lose a coin flip, and now I was getting pretty low on chips. Soon thereafter I was dealt Kh-Qs in the cutoff, and I went all-in. My chip stack scared no one, and both the small blind and big blind called. The flop came Kh-Qd-7s. Top two pair for me. Once again, I’d flopped the world. Check-check by the other two players. The turn was the 7c, pairing the board. The small blind checked, the big blind raised, the small blind folded. I showed my top two pair. The big blind showed Ac-3h for nothing more than ace high in relation to the board. All I had to fade was an ace, which would give the big blind a better two pair (remember, there were two 7s on the board), and I would triple up.

As should be obvious by now the river was … an Ace. And just like that I lost yet again on a river card that gave my opponent a better two pair than my flopped two pair.

I departed, again walking the halls of the Rio for a lengthy period of time trying to make sense of what had happened, not on speaking terms with the Poker Gods.

For those keeping score, my chip count at the end of each level was:

Level 1: 53,600
Level 2: 89,300
Level 3: 92,000
Level 4: 85,900
Level 5: 64,500
Level 6: 83,400
Level 7: 100,000
Level 8: 116,000
Level 9: 46,000
Level 10: 0

Once I finally stopped walking the hallways of the Rio, yet again finding no answers to my questions, I faced one final indignity. I eventually got in line to sign up for tomorrow’s Flight D of the Big 50. It wasn’t a short line. I waited impatiently, unhappily, broodingly. When I finally got to the cage, I was told that tomorrow’s tournament was sold out.