I convince Sirwatts to spend an entire day out Wednesday wasting time and eating food so I’ll be appropriately tired that night. The plan works and when I hit my pillow around 3:30 I fall straight out. When I awake at 11:30 to play, I feel much better than on day 2. If I can get a good soft table full of guys concerned with making the money, I’ll have myself another massacre.

I get to my table and find a totally different scenario. For starters, on my immediate right with 400k is Imper1um. In seat 8 is Stevebets, and most of the table seems competent and not to worried about making the money. Imper1um and I have played at the Bellagio and he’s at least fairly familiar with my aggressive game, luckily having him on my immediate right negates his ability to run over me with three bets. I start the day with $292,500 and with the table playing aggressively, I keep most of my aggressive plays to late position.

Early hands of minimal interest includes 3 betting Imper1um with JJ and him folding. In another hand the button a very old and sloppy aggressive Spanish player who DOES NOT FOLD raises and I call with 22 in the BB. The flop is T8T and we both check. Turn is a Q I check and he bets only 10k. I know he’s pretty spewy aggressive so I decide to give him one call. River is a 4 and we both check, I expect to be good but he shows me JJ. Owned? He certainly had a hand I never saw coming.

I raise 99 utg and get cold called by a guy with about 80k. The flop comes T64 two clubs, I bet and he shoves. I’m pretty sure he’s not cold calling my utg raise without a pair or shoving here without at least 15 outs, but most always an over pair, so I deliberate and fold.

For a while after the 99 hand I play very tight, as my stack has slipped to about 270k. After folding a round or two I decide to make an UTG steal with just about any 2 cards, as I’m pretty sure Imper1um will respect it in his BB. I peek down at 95o utg 8 handed and the following hand develops:
Blinds 1500/3000 with 400 ante.
My stack: ~270k
MP1: ~330k

Preflop: I raise to 9500, folds to MP1, MP1 calls, all others fold.

Flop: 8 7 6 two diamonds.
MP1 in this hand is a younger Asian guy who works for Pokerstars in Costa Rica. He knows I’m a smart and aggressive player and we’ve been chatting and friendly. I lead out for 13k, he calls pretty quick.
Turn: 2s
Awesome card. I think about my bet size, then lead out a large 40k, hoping that if he raises it’ll force him to commit for my stack. He grabs a full stack of orange 5000’s and raises to 100k. I go into the tank for about 5-10 seconds, then move all in. MP1 asks for a count. He tanks, counts up his chips, stares at me, tanks some more. He stands out of his seat, sighs out loud, can’t seem to figure out what to do. I figure he absolutely must have an over pair and that he worries I have a set, so I’ve got to be WAAAAAAAY good here, like him drawing dead good. He counts out the 134,800 more to call, announces “lets gamble, you got a straight?” and slides it into the middle.
“Yea, straight” I reply.
Unfortunately for me MP1 is by no means drawing dead and flips up 88. I can’t even believe he thought about it, if I was in his shoes I would’ve smashed my chips into the middle Phil Hellmuth style. There’s almost 600k in the middle which I think would be good for the chip lead at this point, and I just got to dodge 10 outs on one card.
River: 7
I don’t even react. No yell, no scream, no slapping, just staring at the card. I look over at MP1 and say calmly “Well, that’s unfortunate.” I shake his and Imper1um’s hands, wish them and the table luck, and walk off.

Why didn’t I react? Why wasn’t I angry? I don’t know, I mean, what did I really expect? It’s been like this for 6 weeks now, and every time I need to win that one key hand to put me in a truly excellent position to do something great, I will inevitably have it blow up in my face. I’m sure if I looked back on the trip reports it’d seem all totally unfair, but what’s the point in getting worked up? Six weeks of live is the rough equivalent of 3 days of online play, and who really cares if you run bad for 3 days?

Most of what I feel is just exhaustion. I’m tired of all this; of Vegas, of casinos, of hotels, and most of all of failing. The failing is more depressing and discouraging than it is infuriating. This will be the last trip report for some time, I’m going home. I’m not sure when the next time I’ll play serious live poker is, knowing me I’ll be annoyed with the situation and then a week later I’ll snap back to live and want to get back in there. Australia has a Victorian poker championship coming up with a $15,000 AU buy in event not to mention numerous others, so maybe I’ll take a shot. I don’t know, it’s all too much to think about right now. I’m out.

Vegas Trip Summation:
Tournaments played: Like 25-30ish.
Cashes: 4
Final tables: 1
Total value of all cashes: ~20,000
Total cost of all buy ins: Oh god, to take a shot in the dark here, ~80,000? Did I really lose Timex/Steve 60k? That’s gross. Sorry guys.

My whole life I’ve been pretty lucky in regards to health and physical concerns. I’m allergic to nothing; never been seriously ill, fast metabolism, etc. Unfortunately somewhere around my teen years I developed two annoying physical problems:
A. I have a lot of trouble getting to sleep and maintaining a normal sleep schedule.
B. I have an extremely sensitive stomach.

Worst of all, one problem tends to beget the other. If I get under 8 hours of sleep I can count on with about 95% accuracy my being quite sick to my stomach the next morning. I looked it up on WebMD and apparently this is just a consequence for not getting enough sleep for some people. On those days I never know if my next meal will turn my intestines to hell and ruin me for hours. So what tends to happen is on some night where I plan on getting 9 hours of sleep I lie in bed unable to sleep for an hour, then realize I’ll only be getting 8, then realize if I don’t fall asleep very soon I’m going to be sick. Ever tried falling asleep when you’re thinking “man I really got to get to sleep right now”? Yea, good luck with that. Then I inevitably wake up feeling sick for the rest of the day, which if it carries on through the evening makes it even harder to fall asleep. The only ways I’ve found to stop the cycle of insanity is either sleep medication, or having days where I don’t have to wake up for anything. The problem with those days then is that my body tries to catch up by making me sleep a bazillion hours totally ruining my schedule, so next time I need to get to bed at a decent hour my body will think its way to early.

It’s the night before day 2a. I’ve had a quiet evening where I’ve had dinner with friends, watched a good movie, had some food, wrote, taken a sleeping pill, and tried to get to bed early. Unfortunately my schedule got [censored] by our playing until 4am on day 1 and I didn’t wake up until 5pm today. When I finally manage to fall asleep at about 4am my body snaps awake at 8am, my schedule being so [censored] my body thinks that period was a nap and not its proper sleep time. I lie in bed for another 90 minutes praying my mind will click back off, but it’s not happening. [censored] it, I can play on 4 hours sleep, I’m just going to need Pepto-Bismol and Redbull.

I waste time on my computer for a an hour or two then head downstairs to the little shop in the Rio and buy the much needed Pepto. I feel fairly good and awake for 4 hours of sleep. The Pepto does pretty well at making my stomach chill the [censored] out. I’ll just take my annoyance of the situation out on my much short stacked table.

I show up a bit early to the table and have a look around. I had read the list correctly, everyone is quite short and nobody is over 40k. Most of the table is in their 30’s or 40’s as well, with only a couple younger guys. This is very good news. The cards get in the air at 500/1000 blinds with 100 ante and the massacre begins.

For the first 2 hours at the table I find nobody is willing to play with me. At one point I raise J9o and a short stack shoves and I call getting 2 to 1 and beat his 77. That was about the last time anyone screwed with me. My BB got walked about two thirds of the time (seriously) and my open raises were almost never three bet. Eventually another larger stack of maybe 120k gets moved to the table 2 on my right, and he’s a fairly aggressive Euro player. I put my table captain hat on begin making his life miserable with 3 bets. In this period, there is absolutely zero interesting hands. I don’t think I played one hand past a flop, and my C bets were getting an absurd amount of respect. The only other young guy at the table stares at me for a moment then asks
”Where do I know you from dude?”
“I don’t know, have you played a lot of the events?”
”Nah, just got here.”
”Play in Australia ever?”
”Never been there. I don’t know, you seem really familiar though.”
I realize where he knows me from, but I decide not to say anything. It’s to early in the morning to be doing impressions.

About 3 ½ hours into the day I get moved, which is unfortunate because my table was letting me get away with all the murder I’d planned. I arrive at my new table, where the line up goes as follows (and would only change by one player all day) :
Seat 1: Older guy of about 55 or 60. Very very tight weak.
Seat 2: Younger guy of maybe 30ish. Wearing a Ladbrokes qualifier shirt. If the land of Nitdom needed a king, this is their guy.
Seat 3: A tight but at least a little more aggressive English guy of about 35 or 40. He’s a cool guy.
Seat 4: Laggy Asian guy of about 30. He’s not a good sort of LAG though (as you’ll find out) as he often open raises 4 or 5 or even 6X at totally random times and seems tilt capable. I’m 90% sure he wasn’t a famous one either. He is the other big stack on the table with around 250k (I show up with about the same.)
Seat 5: A mid 30’s black dude who according to TheWacoKid is in the music industry and plays not bad. He’s kind of on tilt when I get there and seems unsure of his decisions after apparently blowing off some chips to seat 4.
Seat 6: Me.
Seat 7: A young guy from Melbourne Australia named Tim. When I hear his accent we get talking and hit it off pretty well. Unfortunately for Tim he is playing WAAAAAAY to weak tight, that or the most card dead I’ve ever seen anyone.
Seat 8: A very nice/talkative 50ish guy who is a huge nit.
Seat 9: A 30ish Singaporean guy who got 2nd in the 5k Singapore event to Tony G. He is a little more loose but not necessary loose aggressive.

When I arrive at the table I realize that seat 4 is really playing table captain here and raising a lot of pots. Nobody on the table seems interested in stopping him. That is, nobody until I showed up. A couple rounds in the following hand develops:
Blinds 600/1200 with 200 ante.
My stack: ~250k
Seat 4: ~250k
Seat 5: ~80k
I hold Q5o in the BB.

Preflop: Folds to seat 4 on button, button raises to 5000, SB looks extremely unsure of himself and his decision then calls. I make it 22000, button insta mucks. SB spends more time feeling unsure of himself then folds. I then rip the metaphorical table captain hat off seat 4’s head.

I start raising a [censored] load. Nobody seems interested in stopping me. At some random point I three bet seat 4 again, who calls and check folds to me on the flop. We go on break and I tell people how I’m in the mid to high 200’s and various people insult me for my absurd luck in regards to table draws. When I get back from the break I am absurdly hungry and seat 4 has a box of small cookies. He offers them to me.
“Oh thanks so much man, I am starving.”
”No problem, take all you like.”
”Oh man, you’re my new best friend. I promise, no more pre flop 3 bets.”
“I wish I’d had these cookies an hour ago then.”
The Brit in seat 3 chimes in (who I’d 3 bet once) “I’ll go buy you a box then!”

For about an hour or so everything goes calm. The Singaporean guy in seat 9 massively sucks out the black guy in seat 5 with a totally retarded hand (4 betting all in with AJo vs black guys KK and flopping AJA when black guy was being a huge nit) and eventually seat 5, who has 4 BB’s left, gets knocked out. A new guy gets moved to the table, a quite tight Asian guy of about 30 who has ~150k. Seat 4 and I take turns open raising and crushing the table, and we both move our stacks into the low 300ish area. About an hour in the following hand comes up with seat 4:
Me: ~300k
Seat 4: ~300k
Blinds 800/1600 with 200 ante. I hold Qc Qd on the CO.

Preflop: Folds to seat 4, seat 4 raises to 5000, HJ folds, I tell seat 4 “Sorry man I gotta break my promise this one time. I was good for a while though” and make it 16500 (note: I talk a lot on the tables without interrupting hands or being rude/insulting. I make a real effort to get friendly with everyone at the table. It’s a lot harder for people to pull the trigger on guys they are friendly towards than an anonymous face. Don’t believe me? Try it.) It folds back to seat 4 who calls.
Flop: Qs Js 5d
Seat 4 checks, I bet 21k, he folds. I flip up my QQ and say “hey look man, see I’m honest, it was necessary this time. We’re still friends right?”
He laughs and tells me we’re still friends.

Again for about 20 minutes things are calm and seat 4 and I mop up the table but have no confrontations. With about 10 minutes to go before the dinner break the following hand comes up:
Me: ~320k
Seat 4: ~260k
Blinds 800/1600 with 200 ante. I hold 7s5d on the button.

Preflop: Folds to seat 4 on HJ, he raises to 5000, CO folds, I raise to 16500 and say “alright, sorry man, one more time.” Folds back to seat 4 who calls.
Flop: Tc 9c 7c
Seat 4 checks, I bet 21k, seat 4 insta folds Kd Kh face up. Juuuuuuuuuyah are you serious?

I lost 15k with AKo to the Singaporean who 3 bets me pre flop (his 3 bet range is JJ+ I promise) where I call his reraise and check fold a Q25 flop. We go to dinner soon after and I can’t stop telling people the 75o hand.

We get back from dinner and the table is feeling chatty after having a break. The Brit in seat 3 asks me where he knows me from. Again he tells me I look so familiar but he can’t figure out why. We have the same conversation trying to figure out if it was a pre lim event or the Bellagio but again he wasn’t here.

A little while into the level I am again of course playing absurdly aggressive. I am raising my button/CO with a combined 95% frequency when folded to. My button especially is absurdly easy as Tim will never shoot back in the small and the BB comments every time “one of these days I’m gonna find a hand worth that raise and call you.” That’s a less than intimidating threat when I know his plan is to check-fold most flops. About a half hour into the level, the BB finally gets his wish when the following hand develops:
BB: ~150k
Me: ~310k
Blinds 1000/2000 with 200 300 ante. I hold Kh Qh on the button.

Preflop: Folds to me, I raise to 6500, SB folds, BB says “I finaly got a hand worth 6500, I call!.”
Flop: Kc Qc Ks
I want to laugh so bad. I mean jesus, how [censored] good do I run. I keep my face stoic behind my sunglasses and wait for his move. BB says “I’m gonna go ahead and shoot first here” and throws out 15k. I call.
Turn: Ah
BB thinks and checks. I bet 25k. BB considers his options and calls.
River: 5h
BB checks. I think I screwed up here a little and didn’t bet weak enough, as I fired 50k (which is only half pot, but this is live people.) The BB mulls it over and folds, telling me had Ac7c. A bunch of cameras are on us during the hand, and considering I want to keep things nice on the table and the BB giving me credit when I raise I lay my hand down face up next to the KQK on the board.
”Just a full house! Hahaha!”
I grab the cards off the table and pull them up in my hand 5 draw style “I’m keeping these dealer, now lets play 5 draw people.”
The table is in laughter and the BB finds this all very amusing (especially feeling good that he made the right fold.)
“How am I supposed to win when I’m playing a hand vs Tom Cruise?”
Suddenly the light bulb goes off over the Brit in seat 3’s head.
“That’s where I know you from! Top Gun!”
I smash the table with my hand “THAT’S RIGHT! ENGLISH…MAN. I AM DANGEROUS!”
The table is rolling in laughter, the dealer is enjoying the spectacle to much to even keep dealing.
“You can be my wingman any day!” says the Brit.
”[censored]! You be mine!”
Finally the dealer begins sorting up the cards and taking my full house away from me and we keep playing. At this point almost everyone on the table is laughing and joking with each other except the extremely quiet Asian guy in seat 5 with his ipod. His days are numbered.

In the next couple rounds I lose 30 or 40k back when I raise pre flop and get called by the Singaporean. I C bet into him and he min raises me and I have to give up. He had been doing this occasionally, though sometimes he also folded to my C bets. I’m not hitting flops very well. The Asian guy in seat 5 is playing very tight and I am playing very loose aggressive when the following hand comes up:
His stack: ~110k
My stack: ~300k
Blinds 1000/2000 with 300 ante. I am UTG+1 with AA.

Preflop: UTG raises to 7000, I reraise to 21000, folds back to UTG who considers his options and goes all in, I call instantly. “SHiiiiiiiiiiit” says UTG. Wow this feels familiar. UTG flips up………….AcQc. He’s drawing dead by the turn and walks off remorsefully. “I don’t get it, that guy played super tight for hours. What the hell?”
”I guess he just got tired of all your raising Maverick” says the Brit.
”Huh, I tried to tell him I am dangerous, guess he had his Ipod on.”

At this point my stack climbs to a massive 410k. A new dealer comes to the table, a woman of about 35-40. I’m not sure how it gets started, but the Brit says something flirtatious towards her. She playfully shoots him down (though in a manner that expressed some interest.)
”Don’t worry Brit, you’ll get her. The accent always does, I found that out in Australia.”
“Maybe, but I don’t have your slick clothes and glasses Mav.”
”Yea? Okay here you go take em.”
I rip off my jacket and sunglasses and hand them to him. The dealer gets in on the act and tells me to take my shirt and pants off as well. The Brit now continues playfully hitting on dealer. The event was reported on Cardplayer as follows:
“Dunst Helps A Brother Out

Tony Dunst, who is almost always sporting a coat jacket, slacks and a button down, offered up his sharp duds to a smooth-talking british tablemate who was hitting on the dealer. Dunst was joking with the brit, who he described inherently smooth due to his accent, when he offered his shades and jacket up so that the brit might have a better shot wooing the dealer. Dunst is probably in such a good mood due to the fact that he has climbed above $400,000.”
After this little incident I play perhaps the most mind boggling hand of my poker career. It was vs Seat 4 again, and went down as follows:
My stack: ~380k
Seat 4: ~300k
Blinds 1000/2000 with 300 ante. I holds Ad8d UTG+1. (The raise will seem a little loose and small, but I can assure you at this table, it was all that was necessary.)

Preflop: UTG folds, I raise to 6500, folds to seat 4 in BB, BB calls.
Flop: Th 8h 5s
BB checks, I bet 8500, BB calls. I table is still in a joking mood so I say to the dealer “no heart! For the love of god no heart!”
Turn: Jc
BB checks, I check.
River: Ac
BB checks. I figure it’s going to be very hard to get value from him so I bet really tiny, 13k. The BB quickly flips his cards face up towards the muck but not in the muck. I look over, yep I was right, two hearts. NO WAIT. THAT’S THE QUEEN OF HEARTS AND NINE OF HEARTS. I think for sure the BB must have misread his hand.
“You folded a straight???”
The BB replies in the most calm and serious of manner
”That’s right. I folded a straight.”
All over the table, heads ASPLODE. I look over at Tim and seat 8 on my left, and we are all giving each other the most “WTF!?!?!” look I can imagine.

Strangely, after this hand, it seemed like seat 4 refused to fold to me ever again. We played a pot or two before break and he’d either raise and I’d flat call, then he’d check min raise me on the flop. Or I’d raise and he’d call, and raise my C bet. It was pretty annoying and started depleting my stack a little, but not too much. Still, his mentality verse me had clearly changed.

We go on our final break of the night and are told that when we return we’ll be playing to 350 players and calling it quits for the evening. I decide that my table will likely be feeling very tired and just want to make day 3, so I’ll step up the aggression. Unfortunately, I’m also feeling very tired as the running on 4 hours of sleep and Redbull is beginning to catch up to me. When we get back seat 4 is really doing his best to run over the table with a lot of open 4-6X raises. I’m trying to find hands to 3 bet him with or good ones to cold call, but my hands are god awful. He is also assaulting my BB from his button with vigor. Finally about 45 minutes into the level I post my BB and knowing button will raise, I decide if I have anything even slightly playable, I am going after him. The cards are dealt out and I peek down at Kd2d. Good enough damn it. The action goes as follows:
His stack: ~310k
My stack: ~380k
Blinds 1200/2400 with 300 ante. I hold Kd 2d in the BB.

Preflop: Folds to button, button makes it 10k, SB folds, I reraise to 35k. Button calls.
Flop: A Q Q rainbow with a diamond.
Here I make a big mistake. Since he’d been fighting back with min raises a lot and I’d been unable to stop him post flop, betting here is just asking to get min raised. If I want to try and take this pot I should check raise. Unfortunately at this point in time I am very tired and not thinking clearly, and lead out 40k. He quickly pops me to 80k. [censored]. My. Stupidity. I give up the hand and cost myself 75k and the table chip lead.

I manage to rebuild my stack into the mid 300k’s with aggressive open raises. At this point in time if seat 4 folded, it was probably +EV to open raise any 2. The table line up was still the same, Tim on my left nursing a short stack he refused to move in, seat 8 playing ultra tight. Seat’s 1 and 2 are still super nits. The only guy giving me trouble is the Singaporean in seat 9 who sometimes will cold call my raise and raise me on the flop when I C bet. I decide the next time he tries to do that I’m going to give him a taste of his own medicine with a check raise and hopefully freak him out since I hadn’t taken that line before. With very little time left in the day (seeing as only like 360 players were left) the following hand comes up:
My stack: ~340k
Singaporean: ~240k
Blinds 1200/2400 with 300 ante. I hold Q4o in MP2.

Preflop: Folds to me, I raise to 7500, folds to Singaporean on button, he calls, blinds fold.
Flop: 767 rainbow.
I check, Singaporean bets 15k, I make it 40k, he instantly min reraises me. God damn it. I debate 4 betting all in, but I haven’t had a chance to see what he’s min raising with ALL DAY (and believe me, I had been watching and waiting carefully, but when your at a table that only knocks out 2 guys in like 5 hours you don’t get a lot of showdowns) so I decide not to take that huge risk. I fold.

For the remainder of the day I continue aggressive play without getting in any more trouble, as it begins seeming clear to me that I’m so exhausted that my thought process might not have its full clarity. When everything is said and done with I sit with $292,500, which although still a large stack, isn’t quite the amount of advantage 400k would have given me. I’m not sure how I feel about the two moves I made near the end of the day, I know for sure the lead vs seat 4 was a mistake but given his assault on my BB I’m fine with the pre flop reraise. It’s a lot to think about, but at least I have enough chips to raise hell on the day 3 bubble, when we really fly into the dangerzone.

In all honesty, going into today’s main event, I’m not looking forward to it. In some manner of speaking, I don’t even want to play it. That doesn’t mean I actually wouldn’t, or I’m going to play badly. In fact, I know deep down I’ll play every WSOP ME until the day I die because it’s obviously the most +EV tournament of the entire year, and nothing comes close. It’s also incredibly crowded, noisy, disorganized, long, and miserable.

I head down to the insane Amazon room which is as packed as I can remember it. I’m seated way in the corner on table 153, which will be one of the first to break. My table contains nobody notable except for David Oppenheim, whose a few seats on my right and shouldn’t be a problem, especially since I’m just some unknown donk to him. The rest of the table seems pretty normal for the ME, nervous looking qualifiers and people with to much money who enthusiastically wish everyone “Good luck!! See you guys at the final table! Hehehehe!”

We start with 20k and 50/100 blinds, and at 200 BB’s deep with god awful players I am playing as many pots as possible. I overhear the guy in seat 8 discussing how good Stevepa is and ask if he knows him.
“Yea, I got 2nd to him at the PCA in 2006.” Good to know. The first interesting pot of the day comes up vs Steve’s old friend:

My stack: 18k
His stack: 23k
I hold Jh Js in MP1

Preflop: Folds to hero, I raise to 300, MP2 calls, CO calls, button calls, SB folds, BB calls.

Flop: As Jc 3c
BB checks, I bet 800, folds to CO (seat 8), CO raises to 2400, folds back to me, I deliberate and reraise to 7500. Seat 8 tanks for quite a while now and considers his options. He more or less has no idea who I am or how I play, just that I seem pretty agro. Eventually, he stacks up his chips and pushes them into the middle, I instantly call. He knows he’s screwed and flips up AJo.
Turn: X
River: X
Boo yah, a very early day double up.

I continue to play very LAG and my stack stays around the mid to high 30’s. Eventually the guy in seat 5 (I am in seat 4) shows up an hour late and is roughly 21 and smells AWFUL. He smells like he has been rolling around in [censored] for 2 hours while smoking weed. Numerous people on the table immediately begin to ask “Is there a skunk in here? What’s that smell? It smells exactly like a skunk.” I am a little tired and very infuriated that some stupid [censored] who shows up a hour late didn’t even bother to shower and I spend the rest of my time at the table distracted by his god awful smell and desperately resisting the urge to strangle him and throw him in the trash. At one point where a floor man I’m friendly with comes over and looks at our table (as we’re about to break) I stand up and start chatting to him, loud enough so that I let anyone at the table whose listening hear me.
“Hey man, we’re breaking next right?”
”Yep, you guys will be broken in a few minutes.”
”Oh thank god. The [censored] on my left shows up an hour late and smells so [censored] awful the people at the table think there’s a skunk in the room.”
”You’re kidding.”
”No, it’s so [censored] bad I can barely concentrate. I can’t really sit at the table.”
”Hmm, ya know in one of our meetings we had discussions about this sort of situation, whether one of the floor persons should inform these people they need to go back to their room and freshen up.”
“You might wanna let this one know. His tables will complain, I promise.”

Finally our table breaks and I get moved to a table full of guys mostly in their young 30’s with about 35k in my stack. I get my stack near 40k when a weird hand comes up. The villain in question was a guy I had been cold calling a lot and taking pots from post flop, it seemed like every time he had a hand so did I, and that I caught better post flop. He had yet to get the best of me in a pot and I sucked him out with 5 outs once when I floated bottom pair intending to take it away on the turn or value him if I hit (which I did, in both regards.) The UTG player in this hand is very weak/honest.
Hero: ~40k
MP2: ~30k
UTG: ~25k
Blinds 100/200. I hold 8c 8s in the SB.

Preflop: UTG limps, folds to MP2, MP2 raises to 900, folds to hero in SB, I call, BB folds, UTG calls.

Flop Td 2d Tc
I check, UTG checks, MP2 bets 1100. That’s a tiny little bet into this pot and I’m fairly sure he’d C bet weak like this with over cards. I intend to call once and give up to further action on the turn. I call, UTG folds.
Turn: 5c
Now something really weird happens. The physical button in this hand is kind of between me and the player on my right, making it ambiguous as to who actually is on the button. While i'm staring at MP2 for a few seconds to see if he reacted, he checks out of turn, and from what i can tell, totally honestly. He literally thinks I'm the button. I decide i've likely caught him with overcards and bet 2300. He calls without to much thought. Okay?
River: 3s
Now he sorta looks over and goes "wait, wheres the button?" I inform him i'm the SB. He thinks it over and leads out 1000. What. The. [censored]. Okay, fine, i call. He shows QQ. Masterfully played sir.

This pot knocks me down to the low 30's and i try to play aggressively until i get moved tables. I'm sent to a new table that's again a very soft line up, except there is one online player, Polpolpol, who turns out is from the island of Cyprus. We discuss in depth whos good and bad at poker, mostly online players, and become friendly. I am still new to my table (been there a few rounds) when the following hand comes up:
My stack: ~32k
CO's stack: ~20k
Blinds 200/400 with 50 ante. I hold AsQd in the SB.

Preflop: 4 limps to me including the CO, i raise to 2700, folds around to CO, CO calls. CO is youngish but clearly not an online player. He seems nervous and unsure of himself but also not clueless.
Flop Js 5s 5h
I bet 3400, CO thinks for quite a while, looks over his stack, mulls it over, and calls.
Turn: 4d
I check intending to see him bet most if not all his remaining stack and blow me out. CO thinks over his options. His stack contains two orange 5000's, a few yellow 1000's, some green 25's and a few black 100's. He gathers up all his non orange chips and bets them, roughly 3-4k. This is kind of weird. Why not bet the oranges? Why bet so small? I think it over and decide there is no hand he holds considering preflop/flop action that can call a shove here unless he's bad enough to limp/call JJ. My line will look like a big pair and freak him out, i'm almost certain he'll fold despite having half his stack in. I shove. CO looks totally disgusted and after 5-10 seconds, folds his hand. Polpolpol begins laughing "holy [censored] dude! you just pulled one off!"
"I did?"
"Yea you did?"
I flip up my hand. "Holy [censored]! I totally did."
CO looks like someone ripped his heart out. Polpolpol can't control his laughter, the table freaks in general.

That pot puts my stack to around 40k again. I continue to play aggressive and often c bet, as well as hit hands. I get my stack to around 50k when the following hand comes up vs polpolpol:
Pol: 5400
Me: ~50k
Blinds 200/400 with 50 ante. I hold Ad 3d in the BB.

Preflop: Folds to Pol UTG+2, he considers his options and limps, folds to me in BB, i check feeling very suspecious of him.
Flop: 7d 8d 9h
Well, no getting away now even if he limped aces. I check, Pol bets 600, i make it 4000, he insta shoves, i obv calls. Pol flips up 88 and his set holds putting him around 10k. Fair enough, no harm done.

I continue my absurdly aggressive play and nobody bothers to make a point of stopping me. I continue to rebuild my stack when another hand comes up vs Polpolpol:
Hero: ~50k
Pol: ~10k
Blinds 200/400 with 50 ante. I hold Kh Ks in the BB.

Preflop: Folds to Pol UTG+2, Pol raises to 1200, folds to me in the BB. I call.

Flop: Kd Ts 7d
I check, Pol bets 2000. I grab my stack of yellow 1000's and jam them in the middle. Pol tanks forever. He stares me down hardcore and even tho i'm wearing sunglasses i playfully put my hands over my eyes. He tanks, tries talking to me but i won't respond. He mutters out loud "i've seen you do this twice now with a bluff or semi bluff. Do you know how weak you look?" He tanks some more, and finally, slides his chips into the middle. "Top set" i announce. "Shiiiiiiiiiiiit" he flips over his Tc8c and is totally destroyed. Turn/river don't bring his running quads and we shake hands as he walks off.

With Pol gone my table is totally devoid of a player aggressive enough to shoot back. I go beserk. Unfortuately a little while after he's gone our table gets broken up. I mutter to myself about how unlucky this is, that i can't possibly get a table softer than that.
WRONG.

I show up at my new table. The mean age was probably 50. It was just incredible, a bunch of middle aged and old nits and a few very nervous 30 something online qualifiers. Everyone is playing INCREDIBLY weak tight and i absolutely go to town. I was playing roughly 40/35 poker and showing all my good hands just so people might think i was just running hot. I was also friendly and talkative and got everyone on my side of the table to like/respect me so nobody felt like giving me any trouble. My stack goes from 65k to 100k without a meaningful showdown, or having to turn over to weak of a hand. It feels amazing. I feel like an all star major leager who's brought in to play 12 year olds at wiffle ball, it was just way to easy. Everyone at the table seems really nice, but they were missing really really basic stuff. The guy on my right's open raise is to 5000 at 300/600 because he's scared to play post flop. Nobody knows what a resteal is. I would randomly 3 bet people with ATC when i felt like taking a pot and am never opposed. I raise the button/CO with around 95% consistency and am only 3 bet once, though often called and check folded to on the flop.

With about 2 or 3 minutes left in the day i have worked my stack up to an almost exact 100k at 400/800 blinds. The player in seat 1 (i am seat 9) is a very old super nit whos blind i have been destroying for hours. The following hand develops between the two of us:
His stack: 65-70k
My stack: ~100k
Blinds 400/800 100 ante. I hold A A in the SB, he is UTG.

Preflop: UTG raises to 4000, folds to me, i raise to 12000, BB folds. It's back to UTG who takes a second to think. Now the oddest thing happens, that at the time, i was completely unaware of. A 30ish player in MP who was the only semi aggressive player on the table assumes that UTG will stall out the remainder of the tournament clock and immediately tells the dealer to clock him. This apparantly annoys UTG hardcore who grabs all his orange 5000's and throws them into the middle, making it 49000. I sit there stunned for a moment, i can't beleive my luck. I calmly announce all in. UTG calls immediately. The entire table wonders if we both have AA, considering how tight this guy is i kinda expect him to fold AA here. I show my AA and UTG mutters "[censored]" and flips up AKo. I can't beleive my [censored] luck. Like 85 BB's with AKo 2 minutes before it ends from a super nit? I pinch myself forcfully to see if i am dreaming, but fail to wake up drenched in my own tears as normal. Looks like this is real.
Flop: K T 4
Oh come on dude, no way. That would be to sick.
Turn: J
No please. No win for him, no chop pot. It's my turn damn it!
River: 5

Boo yah!!! The entire table is floored. I am stunned, a MASSIVE pot is shipped my way. I shake hands with UTG who politely wishes me luck. The table CAN'T BELEIVE he put so much money in with AK. MP2 informs me that he called the clock on him and jokingly says i should thank him for that pot. I ask the dealer if i can tip MP2. The dealer is also stunned.

After this we play one more hand which the aggro player raises and i let him take with Q4o (3 betting would have commited his stack, and i don't think he would have minded getting chips or going home, he seemd pretty smart) and we wrap up the day. Allow me to give you some interesting end of the day statistics:

Starting stack: $20,000
Ending stack: $168,900
Sets flopped: 5
Aces dealt: 2
Kings dealt: 3
Queens dealt: 2 or 3
Jacks dealt: 2
Suck outs i took: 0

It was very possibly the smoothest day of poker in my entire life. Truly, it was the perfect game.

Frank Sinatra once sung “Your nobody until somebody loves you”. At least, I think it was Sinatra, but I was way to drunk at the time to tell the difference between him and any other 1950’s crooner, and I’m still to drunk to look it up. Though Sinatra was one of Las Vegas’s most hated vicious and notorious [censored] if it really was him who sung those words, at least he got one thing right.

After busting my most recent Bellagio $2500 it came to my realization that I really needed a day off. Or two. Or three. Who cares? I needed some time off, that’s the point. With the stress of the main event coming up, a poker player should be at his best, which apparently in this case means blowing off time with friends drinking, smoking and taking drugs.

That’s how I decide to spend my Tuesday anyway, getting drunk at an inappropriate hour and agreeing to try weed for my first time then going bowling. When I arrive over at the house of such infamous pot smoking legends such as Shaundeeb and Exitonly they take me upstairs where the mighty ‘volcano’ awaits me. The contraption is more or less a humidifier turned into a contraption that fills a bag with marijuana smoke that you then hit in order to get high without having worry about the difficulties of lighters and such nonsense. Upon my first hit of the bag I inhale like a bad man striving for breath after being trapped underwater, only what a man used to smoking cigars would instinctively do, and take in so much smoke that I spend the next 15 minutes wheezing uncontrollably. The rest of the weed smoking crew only laughs at me, “get some water dude, you’ll be fine.” They are right, a bit of water, a bottle of wine, and a cigar later the wheezing has subsided and I am feeling chipper. In fact, everything is quite hilarious. Sitting on the outside porch I tell Wardekar “that’s the most wheezing I’ve done in a long time. Still beats getting tear gased.”
“Um, so you’ve been tear gased I take it?”
”HAaaaaaaaaaahahahahaha!!! Phhhhhhhh HAHAHAHA!!! Yeeea!! I got tear gased once! Let me hahahahahahhahaa, tell you about it. Phhhhhhh hahahahahaha!!”
“Um okay dude, what was it like, how did it happen?”
”Hahahhaha! That’s [censored] hilarious! Alright. Alright. Alright. Hahahahahaha! It was this one Halloween night in Ma….Hahahahaha! This is such a [censored] hilarious story!”
My company snickers at me and gives me a queer look, though Dekar is already way too high to enjoy a condescending moment.
“Hahahahaha. Okay, right. Hahahaha. So I’m in Madison and I’m totally wasted on Halloween. Hahahaha what a [censored] night. Right. So I’m on State Street, this long [censored] street leading up to the capitol. Phhh HAHA!...no wait stop. Okay. Right, this long [censored] street leading up to the capitol. So like every year in Madison there’s a riot on State Street from all the drunks, and I’m just sitting back and watching because I didn’t want to be involved. Then all of a sudden they flick on these like, stadium lights they have on the street and I realize I gotta get the [censored] out of here. So I start booking up towards the Capitol building to dodge the riot, but as I’m running up the street I run into this giant line of cops wearing riot gear spraying [censored] pepper spray in the face of everyone who gets to close. So I start running like hell the other way screaming ‘GET THE [censored] OUT OF HERE! GET THE [censored] OUT OF MY WAY MOTHER [censored]!!!!!’ So as I’m running down the street a massive stampede gets started and I try to hide in a shop entrance but some [censored] pushes me out of my little safe cove. So I float down the crowd into the next shop entrance and hide there with a few girls who are just watching the mayhem unravel. Suddenly I start wheezing uncontrollably and close my eyes. When I reopen them the burning is absolutely [censored] unreal, one of the worst pains I’ve ever felt my whole live. Liquid starts gushing from my eyes and I can’t breathe, and the girls next to me are on their knees praying to god to let them live through this. So I’m trying to [censored] concentrate on breathing while telling these girls they aren’t gonna die. Then some cop grabs me from the back and throws me blind into the street and steps on my heel while he does it, jamming the sharp angle of my shoe into the back of my foot while I run in darkness down the street screaming ‘I’M BLIND I’M [censored] BLIND OH GOD HELP ME I’M [censored] BLIND!!!’. Eventually I got turned off on some side street and grabbed on to people begging them to help me since I couldn’t see, and some guy got me to a friends place. Phhhhh hahahahaha [censored] Madison.”
“Hahaha, that uh, that sounds like fun Bond?”
“Obviously!”

I spend the rest of the night with an endless hankering for candy bars and a need to talk non stop and nonsensically. I also want to call everyone ‘sir’ or ‘gentleman’ and if anyone gets in my way to chastise them in a half English accent screaming something like “Damn it man! Do you know who I am? I’ll not have you stand in my away again by gods!”
I get the feeling my company is annoyed with my constant rambling and attitude, but I am winning so much money in bowling that nobody bothers to register complaint. I manage to talk some of said company into Korean BBQ and pass out around 6am, not bothering to even consider waking up for the next days tournament.

I slowly come to consciousness the next day somewhere in the afternoon. I wince open my eyes, and finding Rich C. on the couch watching TV ask him what time it is.
”About 6pm” he responds.
Excellent, afternoon well spent in my book. I guess I’ll go see how Watts and Stevepa are doing in the Bellagio $5000 event, perhaps drink or smoke cigars in the process and waste my evening away.

I show up to the Bellagio looking the most casual anyone’s ever seen me, in jeans and a nice button up shirt, a perplexing image to those used to a suit and tucked in shirt. I find watts immediately, and upon realizing he has a short stack immediately begin with a barrage of insults:
”Damn it Watts! Good god man, where are your [censored] chips?”
Watts table seems fairly annoyed with my showing up and sputtering profanities for more or less no reason.
“I’m card dead Bond, nothings going on.”
”For [censored] sake, get some [censored] chips.”
Apparently on days off, every phrase requires the use of the F word. I tell Watts I’ll be outside rolling dice and putting TJ Cloutier to shame.

Lo and behold outside is the legendary roller himself, TJ Cloutier. I find the lowest limit table and secretly wish he’ll come over and witness me go on an incredible run so he can call me a ‘natural born shooter.’ Unfortunately TJ stays at the next table over while the shooter at mine rolls ridiculously hot and the young poker players at the table scream at TJ “Hey TJ BABY!!! Wish you were here!!! HAHAHA!!!”

After a hot dice session I stroll back towards the poker room up $250 and numerous free cigars, which upon the cocktail waitress asking which type I’d prefer I respond only with “surprise me woman.” As I’m about to enter the room I run into Watts exiting after having busto’d.
”Watts, you busto I take it? What’s the plan for the evening? It’s 4th of July after all, we have to do something special.”
“Does getting drunk and doing more or less nothing count as special?”
”Obviously.”

We sit at the Bellagio Fontana lounge bar and capitalize on the free drinks video poker affords us, getting increasingly wasted with no real plan for the evening. Eventually Stevepa rolls out on dinner break and we sneak into the Bellagio buffet with him. Steve has amassed a huge amount of chips from destroying a very tilted Roland De Wolfe who makes habitual awful plays pre flop (That’s right Roland, if your reading this, you play awful. Haha!)

Watts and I decide to hit the trip with no real plan other than to drink heavily and waste time. While approaching Margarita Ville on the Strip two girls walk in front of us, turn around and pronounce
”Hey, you two are dressed pretty much the same.”
Hmm, I immediately see an opportunity to help Watts get laid, which would obviously score me ‘living vicariously through friends’ points. I’m not sure what their good for in terms of ability to be redeemed, but they sound important. I look over at Watts, who is dressed barely similar at all.
“What the [censored] are you talking about, we’re barely alike.”
”Well I think so” says one of the girls.
“Well I think your just bringing random things up as an excuse to talk us.”
“Maybe we are.”
”Maybe you are.” Quips Watts.
“What’s your names?” They ask. And now comes the precarious part. I have absolutely zero interest in any woman outside my girlfriend, but If I immediately tell these two girlfriends to ‘[censored] off, I have a girl already’ I absolutely destroy Watts chances. Time to walk the thin line between being a good friend and a good boyfriend.

I spend the time at Margarita ville explaining to the girls how Watts is “easily one of the best poker players in the world. Ranked in the top 25 online. By far one of the best.” I tell them Watts has “lost near $100,000 in one night, and damnit he barely blinked an eye. Watts is 10 times the man I’ll ever be.” In these situations its best to talk up your friend as much as possible while making yourself look worse, so I tell the women I’m just some ‘gay theatre major, who loves the penis’ on repeated occasions and that ‘Watts is the real man of this duo, but not in that way.’ By the end it is abundantly clear that one of them (god knows their names) likes Watts and that the other will require a subbed in wingman for future drunken adventures. I tell Watts when he calls them to tell them I have become horribly sick and bring somebody from 2p2 instead.

We go back to the Bellagio and find Steve just rapping up the action, and decide on a night in the hot tub at Watts place. When I arrive at their condo I inform my girlfriend via instant messenger that I more or less chatted up two girls on my friend’s behalf tonight. She is less than pleased by the situation. On the one hand I think she’s being over protective and paranoid. On the other, her booze swilling, slick talking boyfriend is alone with a bunch of trouble causing guys in Vegas and has been away for 5 weeks, what kind of woman would she be if she wasn’t a little worried? I manage to calm her down and let her know that she’s got nothing to worry about no matter how many women I talk to in bars, that she’s the only I’m interested.

Some friend of mine back in Melbourne once told me “When you’re away from your partner, you really begin to understand how you feel about them.” In his case, it resulted with his hooking up with some random Canadian woman 2 years his elder and leaving his wife of 14 years, but I think he meant the advice to go either way. When I left my girlfriend 5 weeks ago I was somewhat enjoying the thought of a little time away from her protective presence. Five weeks later I am wishing I just had someone to fall asleep next to and tell me I do not in fact suck at poker without secretly suspecting their just trying to be nice. For all the drunken trysts my boyhood idol James Bond had, people forget the movie where George Lazenby got married to the right girl who was therein murdered by a raging Telly Savalas as Blofeld, setting up Bond for a lifetime of revenge and emotionless sex which even he, at a moment of self reflection (say on the beach in Goldeneye) is capable of realizing has its hollowness. Lucky for me Telly Savalas is way dead and I’m not married. Were this a real conversation and not a blog the alcohol would have me quip something like “Being married or being dead, sounds about even huh?” All jager induced quips aside, if I spent a long time settled with the right woman and working hard at the game, without going out and raising hell on booze or without chatting up random women, I think it’d likely be time well spent.

When I wake up at 4pm in the afternoon I dress quickly and stumble out to the Bellagio to watch Stevepa at this final table. More and more 2p2’ers show up through the afternoon and evening, and by the time we go to dinner there’s about twenty of us. We hit the bars hard through the afternoon and dinner, then waltz down the strip towards the Imperial Palace, where a Karaoke dive bar awaits. I somehow get it in my alcohol soaked brain that I absolutely must get Scott (aka Mastr on 2p2) married tonight and somehow wind up In a conversation with two New York girls offering them money to marry Scott that night. After bantering with them a good 20 minutes one turns to me and says
”I have a very serious question for you. What’s my name? I gave it to you before.”
”How the [censored] should I know? I’m not the one trying to marry you here, it’s Scott that should know. Okay, so what’s your name?”
”Tresa.”
”Teresa?” I ask.
“No, its Tresa, like Teresa without the E in the middle.”
“So its Teres then huh? Scott, this is future wife, Teres.”
Scott looks at me discouragingly “Bond, did you even listen to this girl at all?”
”She seems nice right? You should marry her. Totally, you two, I see a future, a beautiful marriage and then immediate annulment which I shall pay for. Come on, [censored] do it.”
”NO. Bond, did you even listen to her?”
“What’s the problem? Her name is Teres. Without the ‘a’ at the end, right?”
She looks at me annoyed. “No, It’s Tresa. Like ‘tree’ then ‘sa’ at the end.”
I stare silently at her a moment allowing this monstrosity of a name to sink in. I look her straight in the eyes and pronounce “Lady, that’s the worst [censored] name I’ve ever heard.”
Scott can’t control his laughter, he nearly falls over. Tresa handles it amazingly well, breaking into laughter and saying “I know, I’ve thought so my whole life.”
”Well good your at least realistic about it.”
The DJ announces ‘Blude Suede Shoes’ for ‘Bond’. Yep, I’ve been drinking enough that I actually wrote ‘Bond’ on the Karaoke request card.
“Hold that thought! I’ve got singing to do!”

I sprint up to the stage and grab the microphone. I am at least two jagerbombs in to do this song competently but that hardly matters when the entire crowd is drunk and you can do a mediocre Elvis impression. I throw myself into the song with the fervor and enthusiasm that only a highly inebriated man is capable of. The DJ jams Elvis glasses and a ridiculous hat onto my face while I throw the microphone stand back and forth while screaming “NOW DON’T YOU!!!! STEEEEEEEEEEP ON MY BLUE SUEDE SHOES!!!!!!!” The entire front row is decked in 2p2’ers laughing at me and taking pictures, which are sure to show up on the forum within 24 hours. Mid way through the song during a guitar break the DJ leans over and asks me to please stop swearing so loudly while on stage. When the song ends I throw him the hat and announce into the microphone “I’m keeping the glasses fcuker” and sprint off the stage towards the bar. I eventually play nice and return them to him.

While awaiting the next song I continue to pressure “Tresa” into marrying Scott but she doesn’t seem interested. Eventually Jurollo comes over and hits it off much better with the two of them, so I inform them at “Jurollo is by far the more charming and rich man, who wouldn’t want to marry him? Come on Tresa, I am offering to pay for the marriage and divorce here, I know Jurrollo is willing.” I demand Tresa gives Jurollo her number so later this week we can get wasted and set up a marriage slash annulment. And that’s just about the time ‘Journey’ comes on from the DJ.

Half of MTTc rushes to the stage to scream out the song, swaying back and forth and more shouting the song than actually singing it. Various people from the crowd join us at random, seeing as they can’t go wrong in a group with so much enthusiasm. To say it was by far the best Karaoke rendition of ‘Journey’ of all time is a gross understatement, you really had to be there to appreciate it (*cough* sucks to be you Clayton *cough*) We’ll only find out who was actually on that stage when the pictures show up, but as far as I can remember, it was a lot.

The night finishes with running hot at Craps and Korean BBQ, and my sitting alone in a hotel room still half drunk, writing a trip report for a poker site with zero content, wishing I had the someone who loved me around to witness my antics over the past few days. Oh well, maybe some good will come of it, and I’ll arrange the first officially 2p2 sanctioned marriage in history.

When you’re going to bed at 6am planning to play a 2pm tournament you know your not getting enough sleep, you so you anticipate not having your full focus the next day. Not that I regret any of tonight whatsoever, seeing as we had a victory party for Mlagoo then hit up the Korean BBQ place at 5:30am afterwards. It’s the kind of night you’ll always remember, witnessing a person on, for what is probably up to that point, the very best night of their life. When I hit the bed I’m praying I won’t wake up feeling to exhausted to play, as that will no doubt totally [censored] my schedule.
I come to 5 minutes before my wake up call at 1:40pm, continuing my body’s weird trend of knowing a few minutes before the call despite the call time often changing. I’m actually feeling not to bad, so I get dressed, change some money at the desk, and head to the Bellagio, get registered, and seated about 90 seconds late. I order a red bull to really wake my body up and get myself ready for another run.
For the first couple rounds I pick up small and medium pots by hitting flops. I was hitting quite well, but I also realized with live I NEED TO SLOW PLAY MORE. Because I am so used to online I end up fast playing way too much with big hands, and live players are making to many folds for this to be profitable. One annoying part of live, is that in many situations, playing worse (more obvious) is in fact the best play. A few rounds into the tournament Iweargoggles is moved to my table, or as he says it “it’s destiny.” We joke back and forth about how we’re going to slow roll each other, a round or so after which the following hand develops:
25/50 blinds, 9 handed. Both of us have somewhere around 5 to 6k. I am in MP2 with QhJd.
Preflop: Folds to me, I raise to 150, folds to goggles on button, goggles calls, blinds fold.
Flop: Q T 4
I bet 225, goggles calls.
Turn: 6
I check, goggles bets 450, and I briefly think about it and call.
River: T
I check, goggles bets 1125. I think it over a bit. The river is not a great card for me, but I can see a few things that missed the river, plus he’s a cash player who has plenty of practice floating people. In the end, my thought process goes something like “its goggles, he’s pulling some [censored]” and call. “You must win” he says and I flip up my QJ to take the pot.

After that hand our table is broken up and I show up to my new table with a comfy 8k. Seated 2 on my left is Shannon Elizabeth, hidden by her hat and glasses. I say hello to the table and upon picking up some hands start raising frequently as well as 3 betting, as I find quality hands in the blinds vs LP raises. None of my big hands get a lot of action, but I am steadily growing my stack. At one point I stack a short stack with 88 that holds up over his 44 and climb to around 9-10k.

The table is moderately chatty, as is Shannon, and I regale the table with the story of how I saw Shannon play in the hand where two guys tried to out retard each other with their god awful folds. The table seems entertained, as does Shannon, who seems as nice as she did last time. A hand comes up at 50/100. I have around 9.5k, Shannon has 1675.
I hold AQo UTG+1 and have an aggressive image. Shannon is in MP1.
Preflop: UTG folds, I raise to 300, UTG+2 folds, Shannon moves all in for 1675, folds back to me, I call. Shannon flips up As5s.

Flop: 9 7 2
Turn: K
River 5

When the 5 hits I don’t react. I very quietly and jokingly say something like “D’oh, oh well.” Then stack up my chips and ship them to her. “I was getting so short, I had to make a move ya know.” I shrug a little, and politely respond “no worries. I’ve got plenty left. I’ll just stay away from you, I can’t afford to get beat up by women, this isn’t high school anymore.” My side of the table laughs, and life goes on.

At one point during my rampage on the table Shannon makes a 3 bet on a guy and I remark that she’s stealing my move. “I’m just trying to learn from the best” she quips.
“What makes you think I’m any good?”
”Well you certainly look professional in the suit and all.”
”No, no, that’s just an illusion. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m a young stockbroker who’s clueless and lives in his work clothes.”
“Sure you are.”

After the hit of her 3 outer and losing a couple other small pots my stack has slipped to around 6.5k when the following hand came up:

I hold AQo In the SB with a total of 6700. The CO in question is a middle aged guy who I have 3 bet a couple times already, both times with good hands. He has about 7.5k. Blinds 100/200.

Preflop: Folds to CO, CO raises to 600, button folds, I raise to 2000, BB folds. CO thinks things over for a while, and he doesn’t seem very strong. He also seems pretty sick with my pushing him around, and talks himself into a call. Blegh, OOP with a pot sized bet left, this is not a good situation.

Flop: 9c 7c 7s
It seems to me at this point I’m fairly stuck. Since live players take all in bets very serious, and I’m praying he doesn’t have a pair or perhaps talks himself into thinking I’ve got a bigger one, I shove my remaining 4700, a slightly over pot bet. The CO calls almost instantly. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiit, I am so screwed. CO flips up his cards, Kc Jc. Weeeee, all ahead with the worst hand.
Turn: 6s
River: 5h
Jesus [censored] Christ, how did I dodge all that? I now have a pretty large 13kish stack.

I continue my aggressive play and build my stack to about 14k when the following hand comes up between Shannon and I:
Hero: ~14k
Shannon: ~7k
Blinds 100/200, but the SB is dead so only one BB. Hero holds Ah 8h on the HJ.

Preflop: Folds to hero, hero raises to 500, CO folds, Shannon considers her options then calls. I say “wait, your trying to learn from me and your just flat calling?”
”Mmmhmm” she responds, while nodding.
”Then you haven’t learned shiit.” The table laughs again, this hand should be friendly.
The BB also calls.
Flop: Kh 8s 6h
BB checks, I lead out 1300 hoping to get a large pot going as I’m very happy to get it in at this point. Shannon considers her options and calls. The BB folds.
Turn: Jc
Blegh. Shannon looks to have about ~5k left. The pot is 4100. Checking seems like a give up, and I certainly can’t bet fold. Since it’s live I want to maximize my fold equity by betting large, and if I can ever get her to fold a mid pair or a KT/KQ type hand here I gain huge. Even if she calls I’ve normally got 14 outs. I grab my stack of yellows and lead out 4500. Shannon instantly announces all in, to which I respond “I obviously call, but your ahead.” She flips up KJo, and I flip up my Ah8h for a 14 out draw.
River: 9h
Shannon EXPLODES. “GOD DAMN IT! I DON’T BELIEVE THIS [censored] BULL [censored]! EVERY [censored] TIME I RUN SO BAD!!! UNREAL, ABSOLUTELY UNBELEIVEABLE!!! THAT’S JUST [censored] REDICULOUS, ALWAYS SOME AWFUL PLAY THAT GETS ME, I RUN SO [censored] BAD!!!”
I am staring up at her in shocked silence, how can she be so mad? I had a massive draw and its only one random ass daily $1500 tournament at the Bellagio? We were getting along just fine and now she goes off on me like that? WTF mate? The entire table bursts into laughter as she storms off after seeing her tirade. “Well, I guess she owed me one right?” I quip. Seat 7 responds with “Well kid, you certainly just blew your chance at dating her.” Somehow, I think I’ll live knowing that.

The next 60-90 minutes of the tournament are kind of a blur. Why? Because Shannon Elizabeth decided to make this hand into a massive Bellagio poker room drama bomb. About 5 to 10 minutes after the hand Cardplayer reporter Julio Rodriguez comes up to me and asks exactly what happened in the hand. I relay to him the precise details as they happened.
“Oh really?” he says. “She thinks you just hit a 9 outer, that you moved in with just a flush draw.”
”No, I had a pair and a flush draw, any A/8 or heart. Ask the table, I have a whole bunch of witnesses right here.” The table jokes that their going to go along with her story, but both guys on my immediate left and right confirm that it went down exactly as I said.
“Oh, I’ll go tell her that then” and Julio walks off.

During this period Shannon is standing on the steps leading up to the table where the previous days final table is being held, as she has a friend who’s still in. I see her talking to a lot of people, seemingly quite animated. About 20 minutes later Julio comes back over to me.
“Uh yea man, she’s over there and has told like 15 people that you sucked her out big time.”
“Wait, you told her about there being a pair and flush draw?”
”Yea, she says that’s not how it happened. She won’t believe me or anyone else, she says you just had a flush draw.”
”What the [censored] dude?! She’s over there gossiping and lying about my play and telling people I play like [censored]? What is this, middle school? Besides, she sucked out on me way worse first.”
”Yea man, I don’t know, I told her friend that it didn’t go down like Shannon said. The friend says ‘yea I know, just don’t tell her that right now. She’s really mad.’
“Look, I don’t care if people want to call me a bad player for some hand I played, whatever, that’s fine. But I am not [censored] down with somebody out there spreading lies about the way I play just so they can have their bitch fest. Look, if your around next time we’re both in the same room, I’ll grab you so you can report when I go up and ask her what she’s trying to pull.”

So that’s my plan. I’m gonna ask Shannon what the hell she’s thinking spreading lies. I’ll start off polite though seemingly agitated, and if she keeps up her [censored], I am not averse (read: above) to creating a mild scene and childish name calling. If she apologies or admits she was in the wrong, then I’ll tell her no worries and move on.
A: It will make for a hilarious story I’ll have the rest of my life.
B: Since Julio will report it for me, any publicity is good publicity.
C: I know I am right.
Do I really care all that much what Shannon Elizabeth and her douche bag Bellagio friends think of my play? No, not really that much. However, I do believe in the principal of the thing, that you shouldn’t just run about slandering people with zero consequences cause you feel [censored] about something. Besides, I know I’m in the right here, and wasn’t like the 9th commandment something like “Thou shalt not allow C rate movie stars who are only famous for getting naked in a teen comedy to slander thy name?” Probably, I don’t know, I haven’t been to church in a while.

Anyway, so the tournament goes on, and when her friend is knocked out she leaves and things settle down. At this point I now have a massive stack of 21k which is probably enough, or certainly close, to the chip lead. Things go pretty smooth for a while, mostly because I go totally card dead and just fold a lot. The blinds go up to 200/400 with 50 ante, I lose a few k raising pre, c betting, and then having to shut down when I miss.

At 200/400 with 50 ante a hand develops between myself and a loose/bad/stationish player and I:
I hold Ad5d in MP2 9 handed.
Preflop: Folds to me, I raise to 1100, folds to button, button calls, blinds fold.
Flop: 9s 7s 7h
I bet 1600, button considers, then calls.
Turn: Ah
I think briefly, then check. Button pulls out his yellows, counts them out, stacks them up, thinks things over, then bets 4000. I call.
River: Kc
I check, button checks, and A5 is very good. My stack is now in the mid 20 k’s.

A round later a dark haired guy who looks to be about 25-30 is moved to the table. I’ve never seen him before, just looks like a standard live guy to me. One of his first hands at the table he is UTG, and the following hand develops:
UTG: ~15k
Hero: ~23k
CO: ~12k
BB: ~10k
Hero holds Kc 8s in the SB. Blinds 200/400 with 50 ante.

Preflop: UTG limps, folds to CO (fishy/weak/station), I complete with K8o (prolly not online, but with live stations, I think its okay. Perhaps you all think fold?), BB checks.
Flop: Ks 6s 7h
I bet 1000, BB folds, UTG considers and calls, CO folds.
Turn: Jc
I bet 2200, UTG calls.
River: Qh
I check. UTG thinks things over, counts his chips, and bets 3800. Argh, this situation sucks. I have no idea about UTG. Did he limp a hand like 54 or 89 suited and whiff? What about a flush draw? Lots of live players like to limp and station weak suited aces, could he be bluffing here? I make what I think is probably a pretty bad call vs a live player considering they don’t bluff. UTG flips up KQo and pwns me. I got taken to value town hardcore. I’m now down to roughly ~16k.

For about an hour very little of interest happens and my stack floats around in the mid teens area. I find out after that hand that the player who beat me with the KQ is online player ‘Varico’, who I have played quite a lot with online. He plays pretty well live overall, quite aggressive, though sometimes a little loose/sloppy. Nice guy as well.

At 300/600 with 50 ante the following hand develops between me and the SB. The SB is a middle aged guy who is way to loose/passive and clearly a recreational player:
I hold Qd Td on the HJ with a ~15k stack. SB also has like ~15k.

Preflop: Folds to hero, hero raises to 1700, folds to SB. SB attempts to complete to 600. I tell him I’ve raised. He honestly was out of it watching TV and had no idea. The floor is called over and they quickly verify that the 600 must stay in, and he can either call for 1100 or fold. He thinks things over for a while, not really thrilled with his hand. “It must be an omen” he says, and calls. The BB folds.
Flop: 5 5 8 rainbow
The SB donks out 3000. I decide he would absolutely never play a 5 this way, and that he can’t call with an 8 cause he’s a live nit, so I move all in. He takes only a few seconds to think before declaring “I can’t call” and folding while flashing me an 8.

At 27 players left the tables get rearranged and I am seated in seat 1 of the same player, with Varico 3 on my right. The blinds go up to 400/800 with a 75 ante. I also make friends with the new guy on my left, ‘Dan’ and hit it off enough that we decide to hit up the buffet together. With about 25 players left a hand develops between Varico, Dan, and I:
Varico: ~50k
Me: ~23k
Dan: ~22k
I am UTG+2 9 handed with 4h4d, the table is playing tight.

Preflop: Folds to me, I raise to 2400, Dan calls behind, folds to Varico in SB, Varico looks like he’s going to fold, but then seems to sort of talk himself into a call. He calls, BB folds.

Flop: 9h 6d 3h
Varico Checks. Well, I’m pretty sure Dan is going to play me honest and not get fancy here, and I think Varico’s range is pretty wide. If I C bet here I should get a lot of respect and I can also pretty easily shut down. I decide to fire 4200. Dan folds. Varico asks how much I have, then moves all in. I’m pretty sure he’s on a draw, but even if he is, it’s a 15 outer at worst. If I’m wrong about him having a draw, I’m totally crushed. I fold, and Varico shows me Th7h for a massive draw that’s way the best hand.

We begin getting closer and closer to the bubble. With about 22 players left the following hand develops:
Me: ~18k
MP1: ~10k
I hold Q Q UTG 9 handed.
Preflop: I raise to 2400, folds to MP1, MP1 shoves, folds back to me, I call. He shows JJ
Flop: J X X
Turn: X
River: X
Crap, I am now down to about 8k. I begin restealing, especially off the highly aggressive Varico, and get my stack back into the teens without a showdown jamming hands like JTo, K5o, A4o.

We hit the dinner break with 20 players left. I go to dinner with a group of 7 people, Dan, his wife, and a bunch of guys I met, all pretty well known online players who were very nice guys and smart players.

When we get back from the break we drop the 20th player and am now at 19. Dan gets moved, so now the guy on my left is a young guy who I’m making friendly conversation with. He’s pretty young looking, roughly my age, and seems to play smart/aggressive. The topic of the WSOP comes up and we talk about how bad we crush the bubble there, and I tell him about some of the crazy folds people gave me in the last $1500 event. The first hand into the bubble we are 6 handed at my table and I peer down at TT UTG. I’ve got a pretty aggressive image after all my restealing, and my stack is about 16k now. The following hand develops:
Me: 16k
UTG+1: 13k, blinds 400/800 with 50 ante.
Preflop: I raise to 2400. UTG+1 considers his options then takes his 10k stack of yellows and slides them into the middle. It folds back to me and I consider everything. Hmm, we just had a conversation about how easy it is to crush bubbles. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything? He seems like a pretty smart aggro guy, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care about bubbling. Plus we’re only 6 handed. I decide to move in and he obviously calls. He flips up AJ and we’re off to the races:
Flop A 3 A
D’ooooooooooh!
Turn: J
There went my outs.
River: X
I am now crippled sitting a little over 3k having to pay a 800 BB and 75 ante. I tell the table “go ahead boys, just try to steal this BB.”

We deal the next hand and I look down at ATo, fully expecting to call anyone’s raise. Surprisingly, it folds around to me. Boo yah! The next hand I post the small and it folds to me again. I peer down at KK and move in. The BB goes into the tank, tells me its 50/50, and folds, flipping up Q7o, the ‘computer hand’. I show my KK and we all have a laugh. The next hand it folds to me on the button with K8o and I jam. SB quickly folds and the BB now tanks. The BB goes “well, if he can’t do it, neither can I” and folds, flipping up his Q7o. The next hand Varico is UTG and min raises to 1600. It folds to me, now having ~8k, and I peek down at KK. I jam, it folds back to Varico and he calls with 99. The KK holds and I am suddenly very much back in the ball game with over 16k.

A couple hands later the bubble bursts and I am ITM for 3 of my last 3. Bottom money is only $2100ish, with first being over $100k, so it’s definitely worth playing very aggressive at this point to get some chips. The tables are consolidated and the blinds go up to 600/1200 with a 100 ante.

At my new table I sit tight for a while and blind/ante off some chips, though raise AQ and take the blinds once. I have a pretty tight image when the following hand comes up:
Hero: 15k
Button: 35k, blinds are 600/1200. Button is roughly 35, somewhat aggressive.

Preflop: Folds to button, button raises to 3500, SB folds, I shove, and button calls. Button flips up 99 and we’re off to the races.
Flop: A K 8
One time dealer one time.
Turn: 9
D’oooooooh! Ten?
River: Q

Oh well, I bust 18th and shake everyone’s hand, wishing all the players luck. Everyone at the table seemed very nice, and I’d been to dinner with four of them. So GL to all those guys and I’ll see everyone again at the Bellagio tomorrow for the $2500.