Loser becomes winner
Poker players swim in a sea of variation, and although this is not a requirement, most of them have a high tolerance for pain. They also have a low tolerance for the pain of others. Bad beats are common, but no one wants to hear your bad beat story…yet.
As regular readers will be aware, I co-host the Unibet Poker sponsored podcast called “The Chip Race” with my colleagues Vegas slots news online Contributor Dara O’Kearney. The Unibet Open Bucharest will be held at the end of November, and we are happy to give away a €2,000 ($2,117) package for the festival.
After thinking about a number of contest ideas, we finally came up with how great it would be if we could change the ending of someone’s bad story, and retell it so that the loser becomes the winner. Therefore, players are warmly invited to write or create a video telling us their painful story.
In the spirit of competition, here’s a bad story from my personal collection.
The curse of pocket kings
I’m not superstitious at all, but, like a lot of poker players, I have a funny relationship with Pocket Kings. Early in my career, when I was working exclusively online, my first poker buddy Nick “rounder63” Carrillo and I seemed to be smashing every MTT final table with the Cowboys. It was so rough that we had to use the abbreviation “GG me” every time we picked them up and pushed them while the other objected.
I’ve been eliminated from seven straight live tournaments out of eight with Pocket Kings
In 2012, I started playing live poker a bit more and over the course of a long summer, I got eliminated from seven out of eight consecutive live tournaments with Pocket Kings. So, like the Pavlovian dog I was (and probably still am), I developed this thing where every time I looked at King’s, I would immediately imagine myself five minutes later, lying on my hotel room bed, staring at the ceiling. .
In February 2013, I played my first EPT event after going through satellite internet on my way to the Deauville package. It is home to France’s most exotic film festival, an exclusive destination for the rich and famous, and a mock Disneyland for aristocrats and the nouveau riche. So it was the most ideal and at the same time the most ridiculous place to hold a large series of poker tournaments.
Just don’t bubble
I’d be lying if I said there weren’t any nerves when I sat down for the €5,300 ($5,611) main event. I’ve made about $500,000 online and $170,000 in live wins, but I’ve never played anything that big. At that point in my career, my average online subscription was $81 and my average direct subscription was less than $500. Suffice it to say, this was a shot.
The first day went well as I was able to navigate and move my way to an above average stack. The second day was a shorter day and was played until close to the money bubble. I suffered a small setback early on, but thanks to the great structure I had plenty of time to recover to an average score by the end of play. Day 3 started out very well, as a simple rush of cards coupled with a terrible call from Freddy Dibb helped me jump into a big pile as the bubble approached.
Don’t do anything mental now!
However, Hand for Hand came into full swing, as the short stacks refused to lose races and I was joined on the rail by my then relatively new friend Dara O’Kearney and my long-suffering friend Saron. Taking each hand for ten minutes, I was able to walk up to them and chat with them, receiving inspiring pearls of wisdom like: “Don’t do anything mental right now!” and “Just don’t explode!”
Pain au chocolate strategic talks
Fortunately, I didn’t bubble, but sitting at a stacked, aggressive table, a full level of busting had me back down to 60% of average by the time I popped. The drought continued, and by the time there were 70 people left, I was short. I climbed a few steps, but that wasn’t really the game plan, it was the remnants of the card’s death.
With 23 big blinds, she went all-in for the first time in the tournament and took home a double as the ladies faced off against the princes. From there, I continued on my way to the end of the day with two-thirds of the average and 54 to go. Some of the levels were tough, but I was happy to survive.
After sharing several chocolates with Dara on the morning of the fourth day, I made it clear that my approach would be different. For three days, I rejected marginal points, took a lot of pot control lines, and waited for situations where my advantage was significant. Back at 27bbs, I stated my intention to open aggressively, re-push selectively, but look for some good cold betting spots when the dynamics and my holdings allow.
Suppress visions of the elegant French cornice ceiling
I’ve been playing with the big boys, and now it’s time to do some big boy moves. In the first two rounds, I found three great spots, recharging the King-Queen twice and a cold four-bet on Jack-Ten suitable for a 27 big blind on an open UTG and a three-bet for Jason Koon. With a raise of €770,000 ($815,161), there were suddenly 40 players left, including quite a few big names, and for the first time, I had the idea that I had a real chance to do something special at Côte Fleury.
Oh, my God!”
I returned to my table after the first break, and in the first orbit, I looked down at the two Black Kings during the rapture. Suppressing visions of the elegantly corniced French ceiling, I opened the door and was summoned by the little blind man, the then Winimax ambassador, Aurelien Ghiglini. He checked the flop with 3-2-2 and when two more hit the turn, the player who was in the big blind jumped out of his seat, gesticulating wildly and shouting, “Oh my God!”
“Well, so I can rule out Aurelian’s presence of Satan,” I thought.
Seeking value, I bet again, and once again Aurelian made the call. The pot was 195,000 and I had 205,000 behind me. River brought 7 and checked again. At this point, I took a moment to consider the situation. My perception of him was that I was hardcore as we played the final levels of day three together. My perception of him was that he was able to fold a small to mid pair if my river bet looked like a value extractor. So I decided my best bet was the bigger bet that would do a better job of attracting me. I fired 156,000 and stared blankly at the felt, hoping to receive a call.
Get a price that is “extremely unlikely”
Twenty seconds passed and Aurelian announced: “All in.” I looked up and looked at him in complete shock. This was the last thing I expected. I had 49,000 behind me and the pot was 556,000. I rubbed my face, and started muttering things like: “I can’t believe you have seven” and “This is so sick, how can you have seven.”
I have gone through the disgusting accounts of the situation. I only had to be good about 8% of the time to justify the call, but how often do I come here without a 33, 77, or AA? It was possible but very unlikely that he was making a very bad bet with Jack or Queens. It was possible, but it was extremely unlikely that he was bluffing. The problem was that I was getting a “very unlikely” price.
I stood up and called. He showed his pocket sevens and I was eliminated in 38th place. Five minutes later, I was lying on the bed in my room at the Royal Barrier, staring at the ceiling. Those damned kings have got me again.
