The Grand Poker Series at the Golden Nugget

It was four years ago that I played in an early event at the World Series of Poker. I don't think a day has gone by that I haven't thought about it. Looking back, I know now that I wasn't ready. I really didn't have much of a clue. In retrospect, it's not surprising that I got knocked out fifteen minutes into the tournament.

Since then, I've been to a poker boot camp and learned from pros like T.J. Cloutier and Vanessa Ruosso how to play a no-limit tournament. I've played dozens, no, make that hundreds, of no-limit hold em tournaments in casinos, online, and at private homes. I've won a couple outright, chopped a victory a number of times with other players, finished at numerous final tables, and got knocked out in every which way possible. I now have a clue, and a strategy, and a game plan. I have confidence, and I always expect to do well, so that when I don't, I am disappointed.

The original game plan was to go back to the World Series this year, and play in an early event for a thousand dollar buy-in. Then, I recieved an offer from the Golden Nugget hotel to stay at an extremely discounted rate and participate in their Grand Poker Series of tournaments. Apparently, several Vegas casinos these days, including the Nugget, put on major tournament series to compete with the World Series. The buy-ins are much less than the World Series, but the competition was supposed to be stiff and the tournaments had the reputation of being extremely challenging. So, I opted to do that instead, and see how things went, as a sort of test for whether I'm ready for the World Series.

On Saturday, I played in a $135 dollar buy-in tournament. There were 372 players in the tournament, and we were in a huge room at the Nugget. Other than the WSOP four years ago, it was the biggest tournament I ever played in. The legendary poker brat, Phil Hellmuth, was there for the start and kicked it off. We started at noon with a chip stack of 12, 000 chips.

The first four hours were absolutlely brutal. Other than A-K one time, I never got a premium hand, not in the whole four hours. And when I did hit with a hand, Lady Luck kicked me in the ass. Here's an example of what I'm talking about. We were probably about an hour or so into the tournament. The player on my left was very aggressive, but not very smart. He was one of the few mediocre players I saw all day. Anyway, he had foolishly lost more than half his chips, and he was scuffling with about 4,000 or so chips left. I was in early position, and I looked at 10-J suited in spades, normally not a hand you want to play in early position. But I had barely played a hand all tournament to that point, so I put in a raise of three times the big blind, which Mr. Aggressive promptly called. The blinds also called my raise, so it was just the four of us. The flop came A-K-Q, rainbow, which means all different suits. I had flopped top straight, and I held in my emotions as I checked to Mr. Aggressive. He took the bait, and went all in. The two blinds folded, and I called. He had A-10, and almost cried when he saw that I had already made my straight. He got up to leave, and then on the river, a Jack fell, giving him a straight as well, making us chop the pot, and giving this jerk new life. And that's the way things went for the first four hours. Most of the time, I had nothing but crap, and had to fold. I won two other times when I had to chop the pot with someone, and I was watching my stack dwindle.

I made it to the second break and called my wife, telling her that I would probably be out soon. It was disgusting, crappy cards and crappy luck. I had managed to stay disciplined and patient, I refused to gamble with garbage hands, and the few bluffs I made were done when I was in position and there had been no raises in front of me. Even one of those backfired, when two 9's came on the flop and one of the other players at the table called my continuation bet after the flop. I checked the turn, and when he fired out with a bet that would have put me all in, I folded. Other than that, I remained disciplined and patient, but my stack was dwindling, the blinds were going up and it was only a matter of time.

About five hours into the tournament, I looked at my hand to see pocket aces for the first time. The big blind was 1,000 at that time, and the guy to the right of me raised to 4,000. My stack was only about 8,000, so I shoved all-in. Everyone else folded, and he called. With the blinds, antes, and our bets, there was about 21,000 chips in the pot. He showed pocket queens, I had the aces, and there was no miracle queen on the board for him, so my aces held up and for the first time that day, I won a big pot.

About a half hour later, I was the big blind, which was now 1,500. A guy three seats to the left of me raised to 4,500, and the guy next to him made it 10,000. Everyone folded around to me, and then I looked at my hand (when I am in the big blind, I don't look at my cards until it is my turn to act). I looked down at pocket aces one more time. In the big blind, of all things. I thought about how I wanted to play it, and knew that at least one of these guys, if not both, would have to be aggressive and probably call a re-raise if I made one. I wanted to make it as expensive as possible for them to call, so that if they sucked out on me (ended up with a better or winning hand with the cards on the board), they would have to pay to do so. I pushed all in with a stack of about 20,000 chips.

The first guy thought long and hard, for him to call meant throwing all his chips in, since I had him covered. He ended up folding after thinking about it for quite some time. The other guy called. There was just under 50,000 chips in the pot. I turned over pocket aces, and he turned over KQ suited. The board was an absolute blank for him, and I scooped in a huge pot, and crippled the guy, who up to that time had shown that he was a good, solid player.

The dinner break came after hour number six, and I was overjoyed to have made it that far, considering the horrible cards and horrible luck I had in the first four hours. Not to mention, the level of competition. Other than a couple of donkeys, the vast majority of poker players in this tournament were very good players, solid and somewhat intimidating. And I was holding my own with them.

The tournament continued, and I continued to play solid and disciplined. I never was able to get on the kind of run that would give me a huge, commanding stack, but I picked my spots, played aggressively when I had a good hand, or was in position, and continued to hold my own. I never got much below 35,000 chips and never quite got up to 50,000, but I continued to hold on, as hour after hour passed, and players kept getting knocked out, three of which were courtesy of yours truly.

The bubble position was 37, which meant the person who got knocked out in 37th position would be the last player to win nothing. Everyone after that would be in the money. When we got to 37 players left (including me, incredibly), they asked if we would agree to take $200 off the winner's share, and give that to the bubble. We all agreed, and so, just like that, we were all in the money. It was after midnight, and we had been at this thing for twelve hours.

I don't remember a whole lot of the next 45 minutes or so. I folded the crap I got, and went all in when I had a hand. I was no match for the monster stacks of some of the other players, and I was just trying to hold on. Several players who had been knocked out earlier in the day or night came back into the room, some of them had been at my table. They looked at me and remarked about how impressed they were that I was still there, I had been short-stacked pretty much all day and night. Obviously, it takes superb playing to last as long as I did without getting a string of great cards. I was exhausted, but still focused and determined.

At 12:55 a.m., there were 31 of us left. I looked down at A-Q suited, and went all in. Everyone folded, and I finally scooped a pot that put me over the 50,000 chip plateau. I remarked to one of the other guys at the table that it was the first time all day I had reached that milestone. The very next hand, I looked down at pocket 8's, so I figured I would be good to do it again, and increase my stack. I went all in, and then was surprised to be called by one of the monster stacks at the table, who had about 7 or 8 times as many chips as I did. When he turned over pocket aces, I could feel my heart break. And then I watched the board, waiting and praying for the miracle 8, which would allow me to continue to play. But it never came. And I was done. 13 hours and only God knew how many hundreds of hands later, I was knocked out in 31st place. That's 31st out of 372. I shook hands with several players as I got up to leave. There's a comaraderie that builds up in a poker tournament, and when you get that far in a major tournament, you win the respect of all the other players at your table. Luck can only get you so far, you need skill and solid play to get as far as I did. Especially considering the field, which was dominated by solid, excellent poker players.

I got my winnings, and headed up to my room, where my poor wife was waiting in bed, having spent 13 hours by herself in Vegas while I played in this tournament. I was exhausted, mentally drained, but absolutley exhilarated. I had made it into the money, finished 31st out of a field of 372, stayed focused and disciplined for 13 hours. I felt triumphant.

The Grand Poker Series tournament was a major test for my poker playing, and I came through with flying colors. All things considered, it was my best performance in any poker tournament, and as I write this three days later, I am proud as hell. I feel like I've turned a corner, and I will be ready for the World Series of Poker next year. I can't wait.