For now, I want to look back to May 12 – the day I played in my first live poker tournament.
The occasion surrounding the event was Ray's bachelor party*, attended by six of us, on the US side of Niagara Falls. On purpose, we left most of time we were there open (or as Cuffe likes to say, "we'll see what the night brings"). Only two specifics were planned: dinner the night we arrived, and the tournament the next morning.
* - Which really deserves its own blog post. It didn't come close to Cuffe's goal of "writing the script for the next Hangover", but it was still pretty damn entertaining in spots.
Going in, I had but two realistic goals: don't be the first out of our group*, and don't be nervous. I thought I had pretty good shots at each, and though it took me a minute to find my seat and figure out what the blinds were, I settled in quickly.
* - Given my recent history, this wasn't assured by any means, but I planned to play conservative and make it happen. I was also hoping that I would get to sit at a table with one of my buddies, but the luck of the draw wasn't on my side. I just figured it would be more fun if two of us were seated together. Of course, my idea worked against Cuffe's hopes; he wanted all of us to sit at separate tables, plow through the field, and all end up at one "epic final table". I don't think it's a spoiler to say this didn't happen.
Just trying to get the feel of the table, I folded the first few hands. These were mostly easy decisions thanks to the all-too-common combination of crappy cards and pre-flop raises by my opponents. I did get to stay on my first big-blind hand, but when I missed the flop and the first man to act raised, I again got the hell out of the way.
Actual game play aside, I was having a good time. The other guys at my table (the ones who talked, anyway) seemed friendly and chatty; we talked about the game itself, and the NBA playoffs. Maybe because of this, I wasn't in the least bit nervous*, so that goal was quickly accomplished.
* - Honestly, I didn't expect at all to be nervous, for a bunch of reasons. One, the tournament cost $40. Two, I like to think I'm one of those "people persons"; I'm forever striking up conversations with random people, and this was no different. Plus I had the experience from the cash game at Terrible's, which in itself was more nerve-wracking because of the combination of playing with strangers and playing my first cash game. So if I got through that, there was no reason to think I couldn't do this.
My strategy going into the game, aside from "play so you're not first out", echoed my most recent home games. For a long time, my problem early in tournaments was that I would either take too many small chances, and kill my stack almost chip by chip trying to hit flops; or I wouldn't take big enough chances when I was in good position. So, I looked to continue to try to correct that problem, and to that end called along with one other player when I had four to the straight after the flop. It was open-ended, meaning I had plenty of outs, but wasn't meant to be – I didn't catch anything, and his pair of kings took most of my stack.
That left my stack pretty much decimated, and I went into full-conservative mode, looking for good pocket cards. In the meantime, I glanced around, and it looked like everyone else in our little traveling party was still alive. Great. Tables were breaking apart all around me, and when some dude sat down next to me in a recently-vacated seat (hey – I wasn't the first one out from my table!*), the first thing he noticed was my (lack of) chips.
* - In fact, I was fourth from my table when it was all said and done, which was nice. For my own ego, anyway.
"What happened, kings versus queens? Jacks versus kings?"
It took me a moment to realized but he was referring to, but when I answered, I was sure to make the truth as good, and casual, as possible:
"Nah, chasing a straight," I shrugged, in my best "happens to the best of us" voice. He nodded, so I guess I was pretty convincing. I folded a few more hands until I finally had something worth playing – king of diamonds, queen of spades.
My all-in push, despite being modest, reeled in but one caller – who also flipped over K/Q off-suit. What the hell. I was busy calculating how much I would make from the split pot when the turn hit and revealed a flush draw for my opponent. Wouldn't that just be fancy? Well, at least I'd have a good story. That wasn't meant to be either – the river was a club, not the heart he needed, and we split the pot.
It was delaying the inevitable, as I was gone but a few hands later. This time, I was down even further thanks to the blinds, and figured K/8 spades was the best I was going to do. My all-in gained two callers this time, including the guy who commented on my stack when he sat down. This guy was pretty chatty, but not in a conversational way despite his earlier demonstration. More along the lines of ruthless. When the third guy in the pot was debating raising post-flop, he repeated at least twice, "our objective is to knock him out". Which it was.
I resisted the urge to stand up before my fate was sealed, but casually exited as soon as it was. On the way out of the poker room, I prepared myself to face the later assault of mocking I knew would be coming.
Only, it wouldn't – sitting on a nearby bench smoking a cigarette and looking none too happy was Matt, who'd been knocked out only a couple minutes before. Bad for him, good for me.
It wasn't long before Cuffe joined us on the sidelines, and a few minutes later, Oscar and Ray were out too. That left Anthony as the winner of the "Longest Lasting Player" title, and he didn't eke it out either – his top 12 finish in his first live tournament was impressive by anyone's standards. Unfortunately for him, only the top 6 places were paid.
Recapping my own game, I don't really have a lot to complain about. Obviously, I wish I'd played the one hand differently, maybe re-raising instead of just calling after the flop? I doubt that would have worked though; he had me covered by a pretty good margin and with a pair of kings, it would be a good gamble for him. Maybe I shouldn't have chased the straight? Well, that's easy to say in hindsight, and not doing so would have made me feel like I violated one of my own goals. In summary, it's hard to be upset.
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