2019 World Series of Poker, Day 11 (June 8, 2019):
Cell phone catastrophe, Apple saves the day, a talk to the Gods, escargot, my final tournament registration yields a surprising result, and I Forrest Gump my way onto the rail of a newly minted WSOP champion.
No poker tournament for me today, so I slept until noon. When I woke up, I checked my phone for messages and saw that it only had 30% charge. This made no sense since I always charge my phone overnight. I unplugged my charger and then plugged it back in, and my phone flashed a highly technical message that translates to, “Your phone is not charging.”
My charger is old so I figured that was the problem. I walked to the nearest Walgreen’s and bought a new charger. I walked back to my hotel, plugged the new charger in and got the same error message as before. This left me with one thing to do. Panic. My only access to work e-mails while in Vegas is via my cell phone (on player breaks all WSOP I am the only guy on his phone returning work phone calls from the hallways, whereas pretty much everyone else in the same hallways is telling a bad beat story to a friend). Plus, I have been using my phone as my GPS when driving. I need my phone to be in working condition! I googled the nearest Apple store and learned it is in Caesar’s Palace in the retail stores section of the hotel.
I jumped in a cab since I figured that would be cheaper than parking my rent-a-car there. As I neared the Apple store, I braved myself for the massive wait that typically exists when you show up without an appointment. To my surprise there was no wait, and within five minutes I was meeting with a guy at the Genius Bar in the store. AppleGuy checked me in and saw that the e-mail of mine associated with my Apple account was my work e-mail, which made him realize I was in real estate. This interested AppleGuy immensely, and he peppered me with a million questions about commercial real estate (OK, 6 or 7 questions, but it felt like a million). I patiently answered his questions, but what I was thinking was, “Can we please, please, please stop talking about real estate so you can wave your magic wand and fix my phone?!!!!!”
Finally, AppleGuy ran out of real estate questions and ran some diagnostics on my phone. He told me about a couple software issues that I had no earthly idea what he was talking about, before he added, “but I think the main problem is there is a bunch of gunk in your port.” This last part I understood.
AppleGuy took my phone into the back, and I concluded that my ongoing sickness must be contagious and I got my phone sick. My bubonic plague essentially is that I have a bunch of gunk in my chest, and now my phone has gunk in its port. Simple.
AppleGuy returned from the back room a few minutes later and my phone was fixed. Good as new. The back room obviously is where they have the magic wand. AppleGuy is my hero. And heroes get $20 tips.
I left the store and saw a giant Roman edifice titled Fountain of the Gods. This got me thinking about the horrendous run of cards that have befallen me in my WSOP tournaments resulting in epic bad beats and making it so I am not on speaking terms with the Poker Gods. I am not angry with the gods at the Fountain of the Gods (different Gods altogether) and I asked them to have a talk with their cohorts the Poker Gods, who have done me so dirty this trip. Put in a good word. Do this mere mortal a solid. Hopefully this helps me tomorrow. I’m a man with a plan. This could work. I should have done this much sooner. Feeling good.
I left Caesar’s and realized it was time to take more medicine for my bubonic plague. This meant I had to eat something first. The Paris Hotel is just down the street from Caesar’s and I knew that the restaurant Mon Ami Gabi at the Paris serves my favorite appetizer. Escargot. It was a delicious mid-afternoon snack. Maybe not what the doctor ordered to get me better, but I didn’t care. Living life on the wild side.
After that I went back to my hotel to charge my phone, and I fell asleep for a bit. Eventually I woke up and headed to the Rio to register for my final poker tournament which will be held tomorrow. When the WSOP kicked off when I first arrived, I played in the Big 50 which had over 28,000 entries (the biggest poker tournament ever). The lines to register that first night were running 2-4 hours even at 1am I later learned. In the days that followed, the lines were still really long. Things have now calmed down and when I go to register tonight the line has just two people ahead of me. Two. 2 + 0 for those of you keeping track on 2 + 2. I was in and out in two minutes. I said to the person who registered me that this was much better than the long waits a week earlier. He complained that this was more boring for him. I said, “I guess it depends on which side of the cage you are on.”
As I left the registration cage, I remembered that the final table of the $10,000 no limit hold’em head’s up tournament was just across the hall. This is one of the more prestigious tournaments of the WSOP. It starts with 112 players and it is single elimination head’s up. I knew that today was the semifinals and finals. I figured I would poke my head inside the ballroom to see who was in the finals and then head back to my hotel. This is when I turned into Forrest Gump. If you recall the movie, Forrest has a habit of being in the background of major historical events through right place at the right time dumb luck.
I got to the TV final table and saw that the finals were between Ben Yu and Sean Swingruber. David versus Goliath, although Goliath was small in stature but enormous in accomplishment. Ben Yu was Goliath. Though a tiny little man who looks like he is 15 years old (he is 33 at the time), he is one of the most feared/respected players in the poker universe. He is a three-time WSOP champion and has almost $7,000,000 in total live poker earnings. Swingruber was a relative unknown with $141,000 in career earnings prior to this event.
I walk up to the viewing area of the final table, planning to stay a minute or two. There are probably between 1,000-2,000 players playing poker in other tournaments in this room. There are maybe 20 people seated in the stands surrounding the TV final table. Poker players play poker. Obviously, they have little interest in watching other players play.
I don’t go to the seats. I just stand by the rail looking on. I am about to leave when the guy next to me asks me a question about the hand just played. Then he asks me how many chips I think each player has. I look it up on the WSOP website and tell him. I explain to him about the WSOP website and he says his phone has run out of charge. I on the other hand have a fully charged phone thanks to my hero AppleGuy.
In any event, the guy next to me seems very interested in this championship head’s up match but he doesn’t seem to know that much about poker. It is clear to me that he is not at the WSOP as a player, but I don’t want to be rude so I ask, “Are you here playing in the WSOP?” He says no, which allows me to ask my real question, “Do you know one of the players playing?” He says yes, Sean Swingruber is his brother. Sean’s brother flew into Vegas this morning to be a rail of one to cheer on his brother in the semifinals and now the finals. Sean’s brother’s name I believe he said is Brad (if I have it wrong, apologies to Sean’s brother). BrotherBrad now has me explaining hands and updating the chip count on the WSOP website. I am BrotherBrad’s guide. Apparently, I am not leaving after all.
This has been a fairly lengthy match with the chip lead going back and forth, back and forth. His brother is behind but then he draws even. Then he has a lead of 4,890,000 to 2,790,000 in chips. That may sound like a lot of chips but the blinds are 125,000/250,000 chips so it could be over quickly. Ben Yu only has a little over 10 big blinds. With the chip lead, Sean is putting maximum pressure on Ben.
Sean has 6h-8h, and he makes a bet that would put Ben all in. Sean has a weak hand but his aggressive bet is designed to get Ben to fold and grind down his chips. Unfortunately for Sean, Ben wakes up with a hand (a pair of sixes) and he calls. If Sean wins the hand, he is the champ. If he loses the hand his chip stack will badly damaged. At the moment, Sean is only expected to win this hand 37.12% of the time (I don’t tell BrotherBrad this).
The flop is Jh-9c-4d. No help to Sean. Sean walks over to where BrotherBrad and I are standing, and BrotherBrad says, “You went all-in with that?”
I cringe, thinking “Dude, not the time for that comment.”
Sean starts to explain to his brother, “He had only 10 big blinds...” then stops, realizing there is not nearly enough time to explain his aggressive move to a non-poker player.
At this point, Sean needs either an eight or a runner/runner miracle. The turn card is the 10h and now things are interesting. Now Sean will win with any 7, 8, Q or any heart. He has a ton of outs.
We try to explain to BrotherBrad all the outs Sean now has. The river comes ...
.... a runner/runner miracle has given Sean a flush and won him the tournament. Sean goes to shake the hand of his opponent. BrotherBrad is beside himself with excitement.
Me (to BrotherBrad): “Hop over the rail and go be with your brother.”
BrotherBrad: “Is that allowed?”
Me: “Yes.”
BrotherBrad: “Are you sure?”
Me: “Yes. It’s a tradition. They will take his picture with his winning cards and the championship bracelet. Then they will take a picture of him and his rail while holding the winning cards and bracelet. In this case, his rail is you.”
At this point BrotherBrad is dying to go be with his brother, but he still isn’t sure if it is allowed or if he’ll get hauled off in handcuffs. He starts to go, then stops, starts again, then stops.
Finally, I say to him, “Ask your brother.”
BrotherBrad yells to his brother to ask if he should join him and his brother gives him a look that says, “Get the hell over here.”
The two brothers then hug and celebrate. Pictures are taken of Sean with the bracelet and winning cards by the WSOP photographer. Then pictures are taken of Sean and BrotherBrad.
Sean then gets interviewed by poker reporters. BrotherBrad comes back to the rail and joins me. He is so excited. We talk. Eventually I see Sean heading our way. I congratulate BrotherBrad and head off so they can celebrate alone.
