WPBT Results

I settled in to the couch with 15 minutes to go before the WPTB satellite. I had the CD player on random, stocked with groovy tunes. I was working on my third SoCo. I was dressed in a style I like to call “Urban Retro,” modeled after Run-DMC: Black and white mesh Adidas shorts, somewhat matching Adidas hooded sweatshirt and a Mercedes Benz hood ornament on a gold rope chain. I pulled up Blogger in anticipation of documenting the tourney with one of my “famous” Running Diaries, the ones where no subject is taboo, no thought edited.

Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men...

Soon, the tourney started. There was chat. Railbirds. A side IM conversation with King Sweater Glyph. Cards to respond to. Questions. Another SoCo. I made it all of 15 minutes before scraping the Diary. So you get this, the half-memories of a besotted dork.

I was initially seated with a Who’s Who of the Blogger Illuminati. Seat 1 went to CJ’s Twin Bro, whose identity I only divined later. Seat 2 was inhabited by The Good Doctor himself, the Prime Minister of Poker, the Bishop of Blogging, Chief Imbibing Officer of a major Pharmaceutical Empire. Pauly frightens me. Those big raises can mean QQ of 72o. You just never know. Seat 3 was the mysterious max_pot, who apaprently wants to spare his blog any publicity. Seat 4 was Minnesota’s own drizz, who said he couldn’t feel his hands because of the snow. Snow? It’s May! Drizz is also a fellow Stephen King fan, who watched in horror as he went out with the wrong end of a straight. Drizz was also the target of perhaps the funniest comment of the evening from Pauly, "I like all your blogs...except for drizz’s." Seat 5 was eventually filled by the only blogger with his own weather system (please somebody get that obscure reference), Human Head. Seat 6 belonged to Donkey Puncher, who insists you do not confuse him with the Donkey Fucker. Seat 7 was xupugh, a new blogger to me and quite the solid player, I must say. Not afraid to throw his chips around. Seat 8 was the sole province of Gracie, who was curiously quiet. I now see she’s been laid up for almost a week due to matching shots with Al. Al needs a disclaimer, like on Jackass.

Okay, the hand histories:

I don’t remember a lot. I caught perfect-perfect to corrupt Pauly’s flopped straight (though he didn’t pay me off). My KTs kicked Head’s JJ in the package. I slow-played my Hiltons from the SB, which didn’t seem to be such a great idea when two Kings flopped. From that point, I played them like hand grenades, but managed to win the small pot. Flopped trip deuces with a Brunson in the BB. I had a playable stack at that point, second biggest at the table. So, naturally, I got moved.

My first reaction/comment on my new table was that I liked the old one better. Several big stacks there and allow me to apologize in advance when I get the players wrong/forget you all together. I was about 6 SoCos in at that point.

WPBT satellite runner-up Phil was there as was former WPBT Event champ on_thg.. Derek had a very healthy stack, as did Easycure. Rounding out the rogue’s gallery was F-Train. The rest? Sorry. No hablo ingles.

The Poker Prof soon arrived, somewhat short, and I taunted him good-naturedly about my desire to pay him back for the beat he laid on me in the last WPBT event. I may have pissed him off, since he went on a huge rush and had nearly quadrupled up. Halverson also made an appearance and defended his big blind as tenaciously as my Junior Prom date defended the contents of her underpants.

Somewhere in there, I chipped up nicely and just as quickly managed to drop half of it, down to T4000 or so. I got all-in pre-flop with my AhKh and found myself up against 99 and AQo. Flop came all hearts, setting off the ritualistic “Flopped The Nuts” dance at Speaker Manor. I was leading the tourney.

Sometime shortly after that, I mentioned to Glyph that I was “gonna stay aggressive, man.” Famous last words.

When PokerProf raised 3x from UTG, I pushed over the top with my 88. I had The Prof covered and wanted to, at the very least, isolate. Getting a fold would be even better. But when Max called my bet from the button, I knew I was toast. Prof folded and I saw the dreaded KK. Que sera, sera.

I managed to stay alive for a couple more hands, surviving the blinds, including one where I made two pair with 82o. There was even a ray of hope when I saw A5s on the button. But I ran into April H’s rockets and saw the gates to the final table slammed in my grill.

I can’t begin to describe how much fun these tourneys are. It is an honor to play with such humorous, knowledgeable folks.

Many congrats to the top finishers, especially Southern California’s own ABVidale who gets the seat. Way to go, bud. We’ve got a nice little group here in the Greater LA area. Can always use another shark at Commerce.

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I really have about 6 more subjects I’m ready to blog about, including something I’ll call:

Dr. Straightflush
Or, How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Crazy $11 Re-Buy on Stars

That will have to wait, however. For now, I’ll leave you with the fact that I’m sure—POSITIVE—I’m gonna crack that fucker for a big payday someday. Someday soon, I think.