Ok, heading out today, and while I offer sacrifices to the I-15 gods, figured I'd share some memory of my first WSOP event, 2 years ago. 1st table was a dream, just the nicest bunch of nameless entities I could hope for, and I did well. Had tripled my initial stack when table broke, and I headed over to the blue section to find my new assignment. Wait a minute...I know that dude! My eyes locked on Lee Watkinson, sitting in the 4 hole, as I sat down in seat 8..whoops, card says seat 6--table has a good laugh at my expense. A bit redfaced, I turn to my left..hey, I know that dude! Joe Sebok has a bit of a smirk, but otherwise is fairly cool, says hey. I look around the table a bit more carefully...hey, seat 2, whaddyaknow! Mike Binger is getting a massage.
I begin to feel the initial spine-tinglings of LockDownMode setting in, as the table remarks that it seemed off when I sat down in seat 8. Apparently it had just gone busto, Binger being the victor, I presume, as he has been stacking a new addon to the magnificent chipcastle in front of him while I've been orienting myself. Ahh, here comes someone to fill that seat now...waitaminute, I recognize that hoodie/cap combo..why it's none other than Shawn Buchanan, recent winner of a WPT event. I had just watched that one, sick calls with 33: gee, sure glad he has position on me.
Being in the blue section, my hopes of running wild in this tourney have just gone thud in a major way, as I realize this section will NOT be breaking this day. I settle in and try to keep an image of frivolity, cracking as many jokes as I can between clenched teeth, as mercifully, the dinner break arrives. My tent-food tastes of ash and 50% of that I chalk up to my psychological state. Cadge a quick smoke, head in to mingle amongst the masses railing Hellmuth, when up walks a table-mate..and I don't recognize him! At least from television, I do acknowledge him as seat 5 though, and we start up a bit of a conversation. I ask him if he notices how aggressive Binger in seat 2 has been, that our blinds have been raised something like 14 times in a row from that particular sector. He looks a little dazed, then mumbles something like "yea, now that you mention it..." and I see the wheels beginning to roll in his head. And sure enough, first orbit back from dinner; it happens. Me in BB, seat 5 is small, and Mr Binger fires a 2.8X raise. My man in the small is ready, and shoves his smallish stack, snapcall! My neighbor, AJs..the Bingster tables 25o...5 on the flop, and a very long walk ensues when no improvement occurs.
I can't help myself, I tell the table of the dinnerbreak conversation, which draws a raised eyebrow from his Bingness. Now I'm starting to feel the pinch, my once robust stack down to about 10BB, been in this hellhole for 9 hours now and when, the ONE time, its limped from 2 positions and I get to play the small blind (JKo), I manage an open-ended draw and plan on determining my fate with an allin check-raise to Bingers obvious steal attempt. He tanks, calls over one of the many reporters who have been hovering about, scribbling furiously as they try to ascertain who is besting whom at our table of horror, and remarks "I'm thinking of doing something really stupid." I truly liked the sound of this at the time and actually hoped for the call! Silly wabbit, Mr Binger had the nut flush draw, ace high, and when the unnecessary club rolled off on the river, my case of the mumbles began.."nh" "gg". In retrospect, I should have told more jokes..
Ah well, thanks for letting me get that little bit of goo out of my transom, back to the sacrifices...anyone know where I can pick up a radar detector cheap?