(The 2015 WSOP schedule is officially out. Going over my potential schedule yesterday evoked my favorite memories of last year's WSOP and this piece I wrote for Cardplayer Magazine reflecting on it)
I am writing this article after having
spent the day battling writer's block, trying to crank out a thousand
words about my 2014 World Series of Poker. Most of it is just
bragging about accomplishments that aren't really brag-worthy. I
lamented to my roommates that “I've written 1300 words, but hate
900 of them.”
2011 WSOP bracelet winner Foster Hays,
in his umpteenth attempt to be unhelpful, mockingly suggested I write
about all the times I've been mistaken for a floorperson – this
happens because I frequently dress up in business casual to play in
poker tournaments.
We spent the next twenty minutes cackling about when this happens next year, I should play along, but give the most
heinously awful ruling possible. It got to the point where I was rolling around on the floor writhing in laughter over the image of "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to confiscate this pot and..." *walks over to another tournament during it's final table and dumps the chips into Jen Shahade's stack*
Inspired by these moments, I've decided to
scrap what I've written and instead, tell you about the stories from
my summer that entertained my friends and I the most:
How I spent an entire summer at the
World Series of Poker without Identification
I flew into Las Vegas on May 26th.
My first event was the $1000 Pot-Limit Omaha tournament on May
28th. I was preparing to leave my house to register the
event on that day, but could not find my passport. I had previously
lost my driver's license while abroad and had not bothered to to
acquire a replacement, so here I was, with no identification, despite
intending to play a full slate of WSOP events over the next seven
weeks. Here was my plan:
Eventually, I was told that because my
data was in the WSOP system, gaming regulations would allow me to
play in tournaments, but I could not collect any payouts until I had
retrieved my passport. WSOP staff handed me a print out of my
documents they had on file and I was good to go. People often say
that I look 16 years old in jest, but somehow I was able to partake
in 37 WSOP events totaling nearly $200,000 in buy-ins this summer
without any official piece of paper proving who I was.
I didn't acquire a new driver's license
until the end of summer. Thus, for most
of the series, I felt like a black hole of tournament funds, anything
I cashed for would just sit at the Rio until I acquired a piece of
plastic to free it. Players often joked that the World Series of
Poker collects enough rake equivalent to getting second place in the
tournament, so anything I cashed for would just add to that number.
It was my goal to ensure that the WSOP finally sealed the deal and
won first prize money.
Towards the end, I was actually
starting to sweat what day my new driver's license would arrive. If I
didn't collect my payouts before the November Nine was set, the money
would have been locked up for the entire year. Fortunately, it
arrived during day five of the main event.
Doing My Best Squirrel Impression in
the Poker Players' Championship
The $50,000 World Series of Poker
Players' Championship is the tournament I look forward to most each
year. It is my main event. Actually, it's much better than the main
event – if I were forced to play only one each year, I wouldn't
even have to think twice about it – I would snap-call, fist-pump
pick the Poker Players' Championship. In fact, if I were forced to
defend humanity's existence through a form of poker, it would be in
8-game, and this is the pinnacle event of that format.
On day two of the tournament I
underwent a violent roller-coaster ride. I started the day with
227,800 chips but was crippled down to 9,000, less than two big bets
at the start of the 3,000/6,000 blind level. Against many odds, I ran
it up to 366,000. Along the way, I played several large pots against
Gus Hansen in my worst discipline, Pot-Limit Omaha, where it took all
my concentration and several minutes of tanking to come up with a not
optimal, but acceptable, second-best line.
Here is a photo Justin Bonomo took of me recapping all of
that day's intensity and concentration:
Homage To My Favorite Televised
Poker Hand
My favorite
televised poker hand is from the 2007 World Series of Poker $3,000
No-Limit Holdem final table, involving Beth Shak, Phil Hellmuth and
Brett Richey. If you haven't seen it, you are a bad person and should rectify that by watching it here immediately.
In this iconic
hand, Beth Shak was dealt pocket aces and danced around yelling “I
got it! I got it!” after she went all in. Brett Richey had kings
and called despite all the fanfare. My friends and I mimic this scene
anytime it seems relevant, as it never fails to garner laughs.
In the $10,000
Seven-Card Stud Championship, I was fortunate enough to make a deep
run. At the unofficial final table of nine players at the end of day
two, I completed an ace doorcard and Jesse Martin called with a nine.
We ended up heads up to fourth street, where I caught another ace and
Jesse folded to my double bet.
Though this was
a serious situation in which I was eight players away from a WSOP
bracelet and a quarter-million dollars, I couldn't pass up the
opportunity to have some fun. I grabbed the aces, sang “I got it! I
got it!” and danced with my fingers as Beth Shak did. Phil
Hellmuth, seated to my left, figured out what was going on and bumped
fists with me in approval. If only he had exclaimed “one quarter of
a second after, I was all in” like he did six years ago, everything
would have been perfect.
PokerNews covered the hand and the antics that followed here. The fun didn't
end there, as Brett Richey was a good sport and decided to chime in
on Twitter:
Next Year's Pranks
The 2014 World
Series of Poker was good to me. I made my third WSOP final table and
cashed in eight events, surpassing my previous personal best of seven
within a year. I came into the summer without ever having made the
money in a live $10,000 buy-in event, but emerged from it with cashes
in the $10,000 H.O.R.S.E., Seven-Card Stud, and main event.
Despite these
windfalls, it is memories like these that I cherish the most and part
of the reason I battle at the Rio everyday despite how exhausting it
can become. I'm already looking forward to the 2015 WSOP and the
awful rulings I'll get to make.
