A Day at the Main
My brief visit to the Horseshoe
I got up the morning of Monday July 3, rested, ready, and psyched to play my first Main Event since 2016. In my last attempt I’d seen a relatively deep run cut short when I lost consecutive coin flips in completely mandatory spots and ended up with a min-cash. It didn’t occur to me then that it would be seven years until my next Main, but parenthood and pandemic intervened and here we were. Now the wait was finally over!
I had breakfast at the coffee shop in my hotel, just down the street from the WSOP action. “Just down the street” takes on a different meaning when it’s 112 degrees outside. As I was starting to feel sorry for myself trudging along in the desert heat to get to the tournament, I passed a group of unhoused Las Vegans gathering in the shade of a bus stop. They were discussing the best strategies for getting a stranger to drop a 20-dollar bill on them. If any encounter could’ve better illustrated the absurdity of worrying about a poker tournament, I can’t imagine what it would’ve been.
Soon after arriving at the Horseshoe, I learned that I’d be sharing a table with 2006 Main Event champion Jamie Gold. Fun!
Early on I raised Tc9c UTG and got called by the big blind, a young Brazilian player who seemed to have a pretty good idea what he was doing. The flop came Js8d2c, the big blind checked, I bet 700 (about 2/3 pot), and my opponent put in a large check-raise to 3,800. I figured he probably had a big hand do be doing this so early in the tournament, but what an opportunity to win a pot if I should hit! I called. Alas, the turn paired the 8, and after a long think, the BB made a near pot-sized bet of 8,000. Knowing I was likely drawing dead, I folded immediately. The big blind, who henceforth will be known as my nemesis, had the courtesy to show J8o.
Things didn’t get a whole lot better from there. I three-bet a loose opener with AQo. He called, and the flop came down QJ5. My opponent checked and called. The turn brought a king and we both checked. We ended up chopping when the river came ten (no possible flush) and I got shown the A5o.
As if chopping a pot where my opponent had two outs wasn’t bad enough, I soon played a pot where I raised with AT, got several callers, and the flop came AT5. I bet, and only the player to my left called. The Jc on the turn brought a backdoor flush draw, and now I was behind if my opponent happened to have AJ or KQ. But I was still ahead of Ax, A5, JT, and all the other gutshots that could’ve called the flop, so I bet for value and was called again. The small club on the river completed the backdoor flush, but it was pretty unlikely my opponent had peeled the flop with two random clubs, given that the Ac was on board. Furthermore, if he’d had KQ he very likely would’ve raised the turn, so I thought I was beating pretty much everything except AJ, and therefore I bet 6k (a little more than half pot) for value again. I got called by AJ.
A few hands later, the UTG player raised and Jamie Gold three-bet to 2,100. Gold had been playing a ton of hands, but this was literally the first time he had three-bet. He’d been very content to flat up until then. I was 90% sure Gold had a big pair, so when I looked down at JJ in the small blind, I simply folded my hand. I suppose I could’ve flatted and pinky promised myself to check and fold on a 942 flop, but would I have really done that? Plus even if I were to flop a set, I couldn’t play it aggressively unless it was top set, given my preflop read. Hence, my fold. Of course UTG called (no one except me was folding to three bets at this table), the flop came J42, UTG check-folded, and Gold showed QQ. I hate being right all the time!
At some point during level 2 it was announced that we’d be moved to the YouTube streaming table for level 3. I didn’t really mind, as I’ve had plenty of experience playing on streams—my last two bracelet wins were streamed, as were three other WSOP final tables of mine, plus my televised WPT appearance from way back in 2004. I’ve learned (the hard way) to just play my game and shut out the other stuff with the cameras around.
Level 3 arrived, and after getting miced up I found myself getting quite a few playable hands. I opened QJo, A5s, J9s, and KTo, only to fold to three-bets/squeezes. If my opponents were intimidated by the hole card cameras, they certainly weren’t showing it! (It turned out that in three of these cases, I simply ran into big hands.)
Finally I had a hand to four-bet with when I opened AKo and got three-bet yet again by my opponent to my immediate left. Did I want to four-bet, though? My opponent had been rock solid to that point, and had already flatted me with AJ earlier. I just didn’t see AQ or medium pair type hands making up much of his range, if any. Also, I had an awkward stack size of 85 blinds or so. Both 4-betting and planning to call it off, and 4-betting planning to fold to a shove seemed less than ideal. So I just flatted.
The flop came T96 with two hearts and my opponent bet a little more than half the pot. Now I was almost certain he had an overpair. He’d bet 3600 or so (I know I could look up the exact number—I don’t want to) into a 7k pot, and I had 30k in my stack to work with. If I wanted to represent a set, two pair, or straight (all of which I could have), I would probably need to check-raise flop and shove the turn. If my opponent had QQ (his most likely hand given the ace and king in my hand), I would also have six outs for my troubles. I was very tempted to give this a shot. On a board this scary, many players would give up their overpairs on Day One of the Main Event.
In the end, I reasoned that of all the hands in my range, AK was way down on the list of potential semibluffs. I had gutshots, openenders, pairs with overcards, or even simply AK with a backdoor flush draw in my range, any of which would’ve worked better. The only real benefit to having AK was that it blocked my opponent’s most likely call down hands of AA and KK. That didn’t seem enough reason to attempt an aggressive play. So I simply folded. Given my read, I’m almost sure I would’ve tried to make a run at this pot if we were playing 150-blind stacks or more. But with only enough chips to fire on two streets, I didn’t think it worth the risk. It turns out my opponent had AA (obviously).
Just a few minutes later, Jamie Gold opened in the cutoff for 1,100, and my nemesis to my right made it 4,700 in the small blind. Gold was opening, I would guess, 40-50% of his cutoff hands to that point, and therefore my nemesis, who seemed to play pretty well, wouldn’t need much of a hand to try to isolate him. I looked down at pocket queens in the big blind. Pretty nice spot!
I didn’t really consider flat-calling, as Gold would’ve called behind me closing the action with pretty much his whole range, and I really didn’t want to let him see a flop in position. He would surely get it in whenever he could beat an overpair, and with the pot having grown so much preflop I wouldn’t have been able to fold. Nor did I want to give the small blind a free shot to outflop me.
Four-betting was definitely the move, then. The only question was sizing. I could’ve gone for a super cute click-back style four bet to 10k, leaving myself 20k behind. But I didn’t really want to induce a shove from AK, and I didn’t really want to give my opponent a good price to call to see the flop, with my hand more or less face-up. Shoving—a typical idea when a normal sized raise commits even a quarter of your stack, let alone a third—seemed to make the most sense. The vast majority of the time I would pick up the 6,800 currently in the pot, and increase my stack size by more than 20 percent without having to show any cards. A very good result. The small blind could also decide to call with JJ or TT or worse pairs if he (rightly) suspected that I might shove here often with big aces. The small blind could decide to fold AK, which I’d be happy for him to do when I’m such a small favorite. The only thing I would be fading is one of my opponents waking up with aces or kings, which given how wide Gold was opening I’d put the chances of that at 6-8% or so.
You probably know how this story ends. I shoved, Gold folded, but the small blind was quite happy to call with his aces. I didn’t improve, and that was the end of my tournament.
I wanted a lot more from this Main Event, obviously, but the cards didn’t cooperate in the slightest. That’s how this game goes sometimes. At least I got home in time to see the fireworks with my family. On to the next one!