2010 WSOP Main Event Final Table: Cheong Strong? Or Just Wrong?

It was a blow-up. A meltdown. Spewing at the highest magnitude. An implosion. Millions of chips -- and dollars -- pissed away.

It was baller. Fifth-level thinking. An heroic move. Ballsy. Epic. Sick.

You decide.

After 212 hands at the final table, just three players remained from the 7,319 who had entered the 2010 World Series of Poker Main Event. More than $8.9 million awaited the winner. The runner-up was due more than $5.5 million, with $4.13 million going to the next one out.

The blinds were 600,000/1,200,000 (with 200,000 antes). John Racener was sitting in a distant third with about 36 million (30 big blinds) when he began the hand by folding from the button. Joseph Cheong, then leading with something in the neighborhood of 90 million (75 BBs), opened with a raise to 2.9 million from the small blind. Jonathan Duhamel, sitting in the big blind with about 83 million or so to start the hand (70 BBs), responded by reraising to 6.75 million.

The action back on Cheong, he made it 14.25 million to go, then Duhamel reraised once again to 22.75 million. That’s when Cheong made the big push all in, and Duhamel made the call.

No, Cheong didn’t have aces. Or kings. Or A-K. Cheong had but , and was looking for an ace to overcome Duhamel’s . The board ran out , and just like that Duhamel had 177 million or so while Cheong was suddenly down to around 5 million.

Cheong would double up once, then win two more small pots when his all-in raises before the flop went uncalled. But then, just half a dozen hands after losing the biggest pot in WSOP history (chip-wise), Cheong -- seemingly a lock to make it to heads-up just a few minutes before -- was eliminated in third.

There were a number of other high-drama hands yesterday.

Michael “The Grinder” Mizrachi’s knockout of Matt Jarvis in eighth place in which the latter was all in before the flop with pocket nines against Mizrachi’s was one. The community cards came , meaning both players had the lead two times -- Jarvis preflop and on the turn, and Mizrachi on the flop and on the river. The hand also uncannily recalled a similar one from the 2003 WSOP Main Event in which Chris Moneymaker knocked out Phil Ivey in 10th place, although in that history-altering hand the betting concluded on the turn.

Jason Senti’s elimination in seventh at the hands of Cheong had a similar, punch-to-the-gut feel. All in with versus Cheong’s pocket tens, Senti flopped trip kings, but running turn and river cards gave Cheong a king-high straight and the hand.

A little later, the two players who would ultimately make it to heads up -- Racener and Duhamel -- each survived all-in situations on back-to-back hands.

First Racener doubled through Duhamel with versus Duhamel’s when a queen flopped, and Racener’s hand held. On the very next hand, Duhamel would be all in with versus Mizrachi’s pocket treys. He’d hit a nine on that flop and survive.

Duhamel would subsequently knock out Mizrachi in fifth place in a hand in which the Canadian sneakily played pocket aces to trap the Grinder. Cheong would next eliminate a short-stacked Filippo Candio in fourth. Then the two big stacks would battle back and forth for the next two dozen hands before the big one. The big, big, big one.

I had thought of Cheong -- known as “subiime” online -- as the player to watch among these final nine. Even suggested on Friday that I considered him a decent pick to win the sucker. And he certainly helped make a highly entertaining final table even more interesting, his aggression in the decisive hand versus Duhamel just one of many, many examples of such throughout the night. And for most of the night Cheong pretty clearly showed he was indeed one of the strongest players at the table.

Then came Hand Number 213. Where it all went wrong.

Barring any strangeness Monday night -- when Duhamel will carry a more than 5-to-1 chip lead into heads-up play versus Racener -- I think it is probably safe to assume that Cheong’s six-bet shove with A-7-offsuit will undoubtedly be the most discussed decision of the 2010 WSOP Main Event final table. How will it be remembered?

You decide.

(EDIT [added 12/3/10]: For more on this amazing hand, check out Andrew "Foucault" Brokos’ analysis for the Two Plus Two Magazine, “Joseph Cheong’s WSOP Final Table ‘Blow Up.’”)

Nine Lives: WSOP Main Event Resumes Tomorrow

Big day tomorrow in the poker world, as the 2010 WSOP Main Event final table finally resumes after nearly four months of anticipation.

In less than 24 hours, the nine survivors from the field of 7,319 who started this year’s ME will sit down at a table in the Penn & Teller Theater in the Rio to begin the process of determining a winner.

I’ve written a lengthy preview of the final table for Betfair poker that was posted today: “2010 WSOP Main Event: Nine Players, One Bracelet.” There I talk about all nine players, including recounting some of the details of how each made it through to tomorrow’s final table.

Thinking back to this summer when I was there at the Rio reporting on the Main Event for PokerNews, the two players among the final nine whom I ended up covering the most were Michael Mizrachi and Filippo Candio.

As a familiar face with a long history of tourney success, Mizrachi predictably got a lot of attention from the very beginning of the Main Event. Thus was his long journey from Day 1 documented fairly closely, a journey that was marked by his having to endure with a below average stack most of the way.

I was over at the feature table on Day 4 -- the day the cash bubble burst -- and Mizrachi was seated there for much of that day. He played only a few small hands, and really, when they finally did make the cash, it did not seem likely that he’d be around much longer. But he hung on, and by the middle of Day 6 had gathered enough momentum to move into the chip lead.

That was the day Mizrachi played what I thought was one of the more impressive hands of his tournament (write-up here).

Duy Le (who’d finish 13th) had opened with a raise from middle position, Getty Mattingsley (who’d go out in 101st) three-bet from the button, and Mizrachi called from the small blind. Le called as well, and the flop came . All three checked. The turn was the , and it checked to Mattingsley who bet. Both Mizrachi and Le called.

The river was the , potentially completing a couple of different draws. Mizrachi checked, and when Le made a bet of 500,000 (about two-thirds of the pot), Mattingsley folded. But after thinking for a while Mizrachi decided the bet looked fishy and made the call, turning over pocket sevens. Le had but , and Mizrachi suddenly was up close to 4 million and among the leaders.

There’d be other important hands for the Grinder, of course, but that one seemed to indicate he was playing some especially solid poker, reading others well and suddenly looking as though he really could make it to the final table.

Candio I happened to cover over at the feature table on Day 4, then again at the end of Day 6 when he won that huge all-in versus Manuel Davidian. Here’s the write-up of that one, if you’re curious. I also wrote a little more about that hand in a post here, too, discussing in particular the emotions the fiery, unpredictable Italian player had displayed.

Of course, the wildest hand Candio played would come on Day 8 -- the one versus Joseph Cheong in which he got his entire stack in very bad, then managed to score a runner-runner straight to survive. Here’s that one, as it was shown on ESPN earlier this week:



Jawdropping, ain’t it?

Candio’s frenetic, limb-flailing response makes it appear as though he’s been shot through with a bolt of electricity there.

But look at Cheong. Such calm. Remarkable.

Clearly chip leader Jonathan Duhamel, John Dolan (also with a big stack), John Racener, and perhaps even Mizrachi are favorites among the betting crowd this weekend. But that Cheong seems a pretty damn cool cat. Who -- unlike Candio -- doesn’t look like he needs nine lives. Gotta give him a decent chance, too, I’d think.

Will be fun to follow, for sure.

Taking DeepStacks360 for a Spin

Poker instruction has become a complicated, crowded business.

It wasn’t that long ago there were only a handful of good books out there, plus a couple of forums where one could read about strategy and perhaps participate in conversations about how to play the game. Not only are there a lot more books and forums today, but other types of instruction have emerged, too, including “boot camps” and live seminars, as well as video-based tutorials available online via subscription.

Being a “book guy,” most of my away-from-the-table poker study has been confined to reading books and magazines, although I have looked at a few vids and can see how valuable they can be. (One of those things I keep intending to spend more time pursuing, although I’ve yet to find the time to do so.) I also can see how those who aren’t crazy about reading -- or “visual learners,” as some educators like to call such students -- would prefer and probably get a lot more out of the video-based instruction model.

I had a chance yesterday to look in on another type of poker teaching, one that kind of combines the video lesson idea with the live seminar. It took place over at DeepStacks360.com, a lengthy (five-hour) seminar of sorts dubbed “Michael ‘The Grinder’ Mizrachi’s WSOP Final Table Power Poker Course.”

Some may recall those “All360Poker” cameras from this summer’s WSOP. Touted as “the best thing since the hole card camera,” the technology really is pretty cool (in my opinion) for viewing above-the-table poker. Using a special camera with 11 different lenses which is positioned over the center of the table, the resulting video is interactive in that the viewer can use the mouse to pan all of the way around the table, tilt up or down, or zoom in and out. The kind of thing some might have seen on real estate or hotel websites, allowing prospective buyers/renters to get a full “360° view” of rooms.

If you want to read more about how it works, Dan Michalski of Pokerati wrote a piece describing the technology for the WSOP last July titled “Poker in the Round.” You can see it for yourself, too, as they still have a lot of that footage from the 2010 WSOP archived over on the All360Poker site. For example, click here to see the final hand from Day 8 of the Main Event in which Brandon Steven was eliminated in 10th place.

Anyhow, the 360° guys have teamed up with the DeepStacks University poker training site to produce some online “courses” employing the technology. I think Mizrachi’s “power course” from yesterday might’ve been one of the first -- if not the first -- attempt at such. Was definitely kind of neat to be able to “sit in” (so to speak) on the seminar. I also found it interesting to watch a very cool, relaxed-looking Mizrachi hanging out like that just three short days before the WSOP ME final table is set to begin.

Had a few other impressions to share from what I saw and heard yesterday.

Essentially, the “course” consisted of poker pros Mizrachi, Mike “The Mouth” Matusow, Tristan Wade, and half-dozen amateur players sitting around a table playing a sit-n-go. The stacks began quite deep (300 big blinds, I think), and the blinds/antes rose quickly enough for them to get through the thing during the scheduled time, thereby covering early, middle, and late stage strategies for tourneys. (I’ll admit I signed off prior to the conclusion last night, so I don’t know how things turned out.)

With each hand, players kept their cards after they’d folded, then when the hand concluded all turned up their hands and discussion ensued about how everyone had played. A fine model for teaching tourney strategy, I think, which I assume has been used with success in the live seminars.

There were a few technical problems yesterday. It took me about 20 minutes after the scheduled start time to get the image and sound up and running, and from what I gather I wasn’t the only one having trouble early on. I continued to experience audio drops and image freezes pretty much the entire time I was watching, which sometimes hindered my ability to follow what was happening.

Also, while the 360° cameras do allow one to see all of the players quite well, one can’t really focus on the cards too easily. To compensate, the dealer and players began calling out the cards as they were shown so as to help in this regard, although they weren’t consistent with that and so it was a bit of a struggle at times to know precisely all of the details of a given hand.

That said, there were some interesting moments during the hands I did watch, and I think there is some potential here -- if some of the techy stuff can be smoothed out -- for this type of online instruction to work.

Mizrachi struck me as an especially good communicator and teacher, something I didn’t necessarily expect but was glad to see. Asked a question about tells early on, Mizrachi unhesitatingly responded by saying he looks at opponents’ breathing, posture, how they move their hands, and their bet sizes. He also gave a lot of credence to an opponent’s first reaction to the appearance of a new board card, using that as a guide by which to judge future behaviors.

Mizrachi also shared an interesting theory regarding how best to utilize one’s chips in a tourney, suggesting that one think of one’s stack as in fact three different stacks, with a certain portion (15-20%) reserved for bluffs, another (15-20%) for flips/gambles, and the rest (60-70%) for “solid poker” or chip accumulation. Might be worth remembering that formula come Saturday as we watch him try to build his below-average stack back into a competitive range.

All three of the pros interacted well with the amateurs. Tristan Wade was the most soft-spoken of the trio, but he seemed to communicate and made useful comments about the amateurs’ play. Matusow was his usual, boisterous self, and while his advice was also mostly fine he seemed frequently to lapse into the old bromides (“tight is right,” “think long, think wrong,” etc.).

There was some interaction happening between the players and those following at home, too. There was a chat box where one could ask questions (with a “premium” subscription, I believe), and the players did respond to some of those along the way.

I definitely think the amateurs sitting at the table benefited from the time they spent with the pros. And I imagine at least some of those watching at home did, too, although like I say technical difficulties may have gotten in the way in some cases.

When it works, though, the 360° camera can be fun and I really do think it might prove a useful way to broadcast live poker. And perhaps even to include folks in these live instructional sessions, too. If you’ve never played with it, do head over to the All360Poker site and see how it works. You can literally tilt the table!

Watching the Affleck-Duhamel Hand (2010 WSOP Main Event on ESPN)

Last night we saw ESPN air its coverage of the latter half of Day 8 from the 2010 World Series of Poker Main Event. The night began with 18 players remaining, and by the end they had arrived -- at long last -- at the final nine.

The elimination of Matt Affleck in 15th place, coming at the end of the first hour last night, was the moment most of us were most curious to see. By rivering that straight, Jonathan Duhamel claimed a pot of almost 42 million chips, catapulting him into first place, which is where he’ll be when the tourney finally restarts this Saturday.

Was obviously the hand of the Main Event, thus far. F-Train did a nice job that night recounting the action for PokerNews. And Howard Swains produced a fine account for the PokerStars blog of both the hand and the scene afterwards, focusing in particular on the emotions experienced by Affleck.

ESPN did well covering the hand, too, I thought. If you haven’t seen it or don’t know the details, read the accounts linked to above. Or you can click here to see it on YouTube (I’ve linked to the start of the hand).

Vera Valmore and I were watching it together last night, and she noted how she didn’t like seeing them follow a dejected Affleck down the hall afterwards. But it was part of the story, and I thought it was all handled quite well. And the kid’s subsequent return to the table to shake everyone’s hands and wish them luck was a truly fine moment.

Three things kind of stood out for me as I watched the hand last night.

One was how once Duhamel called Affleck’s turn shove -- a decision that took the Canadian about five minutes, not less than 30 seconds (as it appeared last night) -- both players immediately asked the other what he held by guessing out loud, and neither player guessed correctly.

The board showed . “Tens and nines?” Duhamel asks Affleck, who tables his pocket aces in response. “Kings, right?” asks Affleck of Duhamel, who takes a few seconds, shakes his head, then tosses his pocket jacks onto the felt face up.

A second thing I found interesting had to do with the fact that Affleck, who normally wears prescription glasses, had misplaced them before Day 8. (I believe ESPN mentioned this at the beginning of last week’s coverage of the first part of Day 8.) I remembered Affleck being interviewed afterwards, and noting how he could see up close just fine, but had a bit of difficulty focusing when it came to the board cards.

I also wear glasses -- can function without them, but, of course, to do so is not ideal. As anyone who wears glasses and is forced to go without them knows, not being able to focus clearly on everything can lend a kind of “unreal” feeling to even the most mundane task. (Never mind the headaches.)

When the lands on the river, we see Affleck’s eyes widen. He holds still for just a moment, then puts his head down. I found myself thinking about how Affleck might have had to exert a little extra effort to see that indeed the card was a dreaded eight and not perhaps a nine or seven. Was all already plenty “unreal” for him, I am sure, but not having his glasses probably made it seem even more dream-like. (Or nightmarish.)

The third thing I noticed as the scene played out was how Duhamel in his dark hoodie and Affleck in his white Seattle Mariners jersey so easily appeared to inhabit the roles of villain and hero.

That feeling was probably reinforced a bit by Norman Chad’s commentary over the past few weeks, during which he’s repeatedly (and deservedly) complimented Affleck’s play while referring to him as “my boy.” And, of course, that involuntary, treacly smile of Duhamel’s after the river came, while obviously understandable, nevertheless encouraged such thinking even more.

I mean, really. The hood. The grim grin. Dude might as well have had a sickle under the table!

I don’t think of Duhamel as a villain, nor will I once play resumes on Saturday, although I suppose some might. Still, in that hand... was like watching Death duel with Antonius Block in The Seventh Seal!

Good stuff, ESPN. Definitely looking forward to the final chapter of this here drama.

Poker Book Review: Fast Company by Jon Bradshaw

Fast Company: How Six Master Gamblers Defy the Odds -- and Always Win by Jon Bradshaw is one of those titles some readers of poker books might recognize. I say that because it does get referred to now and then in other poker-related texts. But I’m guessing not too many have had the chance to pick it up and see what it’s all about.

Which is too bad, because as poker and/or gambling books go, I’d rate it as one of the best there is. In fact, I’d say even those who aren’t necessarily interested in gambling or gamblers are likely to enjoy this series of brilliant character sketches, each punctuated by suspenseful accounts of various competitions in which the subjects are involved.

The book was first published in 1975. It never did sell very well, apparently. In fact, I believe it even languished out of print for a time before the London-based High Stakes Publishing put out a new edition in 2003. In his preface to that 2003 edition, Nik Cohn reports that when the book first appeared it was “to modest sales and rave reviews.”

Cohn’s preface does a good job introducing the colorful Bradshaw (who died in 1986 at the age of 48), an American magazine and newspaper writer who might be considered as part of that “New Journalism” group that included folks like Tom Wolfe, Hunter S. Thompson, Norman Mailer, and others.

Cohn is quick to distinguish Bradshaw from “the so-called gonzo writers,” however, who generally would “turn every story into a stage to strut on.” The distinction Cohn makes has to do with Bradshaw’s approach, which was more concerned with “observation and memory, clean style, [and] an unfailing eye for the telling detail” than promoting oneself as a larger-than-life reporter-character (like Thompson does, especially). In other words, as one soon discovers in Fast Company, his focus was always more directly trained on his subjects than himself.

That said, Bradshaw is, one might say, “part of the story” throughout. The book consists of six chapters, ranging from 20-50 pages, each of which focuses on a single “master gambler” personally interviewed by Bradshaw sometime during the early 1970s. Thus each portrait also involves a relation of the encounter between writer and subject, though that context is consistently set to the side in order to spotlight the interviewee more directly.

Bradshaw presents us three poker players (Puggy Pearson, Johnny Moss, and Titanic Thompson), a tennis pro (Bobby Riggs), a backgammon player (Tim Holland), and a pool player (Minnesota Fats). Of course, while the games may be different, all are first and foremost gamblers. And all six of them, in Bradshaw’s view, are to be recognized as examples of consistent winners, though each in his own way.

As Bradshaw explains in his introduction, he had started out thinking he’d be writing “an account of winners and losers,” and had thus traveled to Las Vegas in search of examples of both. “But it soon became clear,” he explains, “that while losers flourished everywhere, winners were a rare and reticent breed with preferences for camouflage and anonymity.” The winners were much more interesting -- and mysterious -- it turned out, thereby proving more curious as subjects for the investigative reporter to pursue.

The book begins with Pearson, and he provides several observations that sound themes that will subsequently run throughout Fast Company.

Pearson frequently refers to the desire to compete, and “the satisfaction of performing well” as a reward exceeding any money won. He also speaks of how he thinks of himself as a winner, and how doing so is, in his view, an essential component to being a successful gambler.

Additionally, Pearson more than once recognizes how money can affect one’s competitors, and how easily thinking about money can throw people off their games. Indeed, a gambler’s “ability to think clearly under stress” is perhaps the most important trait, according to Pearson.

The next chapter presents Bobby Riggs, the tennis pro whom some of us recall as having played Billie Jean King in that “battle of the sexes” tennis match back in the ’70s. Bradshaw’s interview with Riggs takes place before and after his earlier, less remembered match versus Margaret Court (in May 1972). Like Pearson, Riggs loves the many, complicated mind games associated with competition and gambling. The chapter also includes a lot of interesting observations about men and women and how they might well think differently in such contexts.

Besides being a great reporter -- the blow-by-blow account of the Riggs-Court match is masterfully handled here -- Bradshaw has a wonderful knack for description, especially of the gamblers he’s presenting. For example, Riggs the huckster is said to have “the face of a man who sold encyclopedias from door to door; one was suspicious, but never offended.” Bradshaw goes on to mention how Riggs refers to himself in the third person, “as if he were talking of his fondest invention.”

Riggs is also said to possess that curious (or dubious) understanding of “honesty” common to most successful gamblers who seem to endorse the view that the truth “was for dupes and dummies.” “The truth was an admission of defeat,” writes Bradshaw, attempting to portray Riggs’ mindset. “Something you said in the dark or when you were caught with your hand in the till.” Nearly every page of Fast Company includes examples of such crafty prose.

Subsequent chapters on Minnesota Fats, Tim Holland, and Johnny Moss present each as complicated figures, all acutely aware of the difference between their “real” selves and how they are perceived by others. The same goes for Titanic Thompson, whose story is mostly told via the many myth-like gambling tales with which he’s associated.

Like Pearson, though, all have that necessary self-confidence. “To be a winner,” Thompson tells Bradshaw, “a man has to feel good about himself and know he has some kind of advantage going in. Smart is better than lucky.”

Thompson’s point hints at yet another common thread one finds tying together all of these winning gamblers -- the sense they all share that they aren’t really “gambling” or at least taking unwarranted risks, but participating in contests in which they know they have an edge.

After a lengthy explanation of how he played poker -- constantly studying his opponents’ every move (“I not only played my own hand, I played everybody else’s”), Thompson explains how his approach necessarily gave him an edge, making the game less of a gamble for him than it was for others.

“I treat everything like playing roulette,” he says. “And the only way to win at roulette is to own the wheel. I tell you, gambling is hard work.”

As one might expect, the chapters on Pearson, Moss, and Thompson are where you’ll find most of the poker talk (including a lengthy report of the 1973 WSOP Main Event final table in which Pearson defeated Moss). But they, too, play and bet on other games -- golf, in particular -- and thus the overall focus of the book is really not poker-centric but more about trying to get at a comprehensive and coherent definition of the winning gambler.

Like I say, I recommend Fast Company without reservation to poker fans as well as to fans of good writing, generally speaking. It’s the sort of book that will certainly entertain and edify most readers, and perhaps even inspire most writers. It’s available on Amazon and elsewhere, where one can pick up a used copy for pocket change.

Thriller in Vienna

Spent some time over the weekend looking in on PokerStars.tv and their live streaming of the EPT Vienna event. A lot of drama there, especially yesterday on Halloween at the final table. Daniel Negreanu was there, adding to the intrigue. He eventually finished fourth, while Michael Eiler, a 20-year-old German who won a Sunday Million back in the spring, ended up taking the trophy.

For those who haven’t seen it before, the EPT probably does the best job of anyone providing live video from their events. Have been at it for three years or so now, I believe.

They generally pick up the action on the penultimate day once the tourney has gotten down to three tables. On that day they’ll mostly concentrate on a feature table while sometimes looking in on the outer tables when big hands arise. Then on the final day they show every hand from the eight-handed final table until a winner emerges. No hole cards, natch, but one can see every bet and shown card, as well as listen to table talk and a lot of fun, informed commentary, too.

As I was watching this weekend, I was telling Vera Valmore how interesting and entertaining it can be to view these final tables live in this way, and how I probably prefer doing so over seeing the highly edited, packaged presentations of the WSOP or WPT she and I will often watch together. “It’s not for everybody, though,” I admitted, noting how the lack of hole cards, plus the long, relatively quiet stretches of hands without flops can prove tedious even to the most committed viewers.

It was following one of those lengthy, mostly unremarkable stretches that the hand of the day suddenly -- and thrillingly -- occurred yesterday, a huge three-way all-in involving Luca Cainelli, Negreanu, and Martin Hruby.

The blinds were 60,000/120,000 and they were down to five-handed when Cainelli, who’d been playing quite tight, opened for 280,000 from under the gun. Was a little surprising to see Negreanu flat-call the raise from the cutoff, and even more eyebrow-raising when Hruby, who also had appeared to have been playing somewhat cautiously, called as well from the button.

The blinds folded, and so the pot was up around 1.1 million or so when the flop came . Cainelli bet 725,000, leading the announcers to speculate he had to have aces, kings, or A-K. Then, when Negreanu just called the bet, they figured Kid Poker might have a set or perhaps a king plus a heart flush draw.

When Hruby didn’t immediately fold, they announcers began to express further amazement at what was happening. Was it a set-over-set-over-set situation? What three hands could produce this sequence of action?

Hruby took a good while before also just calling. Now the pot was over 3.2 million. Cainelli was down to 1,575,000, and I believe Hruby had just under 3 million left. Negreanu had both covered with about 5.6 million.

The turn brought the , and Cainelli didn’t take much time before announcing he was all in. Negreanu leaned forward and he also relatively quickly said he was all in. The action was on Hruby, and once again, when he didn’t act immediately, the announcers were beside themselves with incredulity.

The Czech pro (like Negreanu a member of Team PokerStars, incidentally) probably took about 20 seconds or so before saying he was all in as well. I wasn’t sure how long he’d taken when watching the hand live, but they replayed the hand later and it was definitely a lengthy pause.

Then came another pause as all three players hesitated before showing their hands. Finally they did. Cainelli had pocket aces, Negreanu had for top two pair, and Hruby -- incredibly, it seemed, after the way the hand had played out, as well as the time it had taken Hruby to call -- turned over for the nine-high straight!

Negreanu was perturbed at Hruby, both for having taken his time to make the call as well as for not tabling his hand immediately after doing so. As they waited for the river card, Negreanu asked Hruby why he had “slowrolled,” but I couldn't really hear Hruby’s response. (I don’t believe Hruby speaks much English, actually.)

Cainelli was drawing dead, destined to finish fifth. Meanwhile, Negreanu needed a king or nine to outdraw Hruby. The river was brought a five, and Hruby claimed the almost 10.8 million-chip pot. Negreanu was left with just 2.6 million.

It would take a little while longer before Negreanu would bust, and afterwards in his PokerStars.tv/EPT Live interview he continued to express some some bitterness about Hruby’s “bad poker etiquette.” While his petulance wasn’t terribly endearing, his frustration was nonetheless understandable. Certainly added some extra drama, perhaps even more so after that episode of the Big Game from last week in which the subject of etiquette surrounded the interactions (and later commentaries) of Negreanu, Tony G, and Andrew Robl. (Wrote some about that here.)

It was more than a little strange for Hruby not to have acted immediately after turning his straight. I’ll admit when watching live I hadn’t quite noticed how long he had taken to act, probably because I was so preoccupied with trying to comprehend the sudden burst of action that the hand had produced.

I actually think Hruby might’ve been affected similarly, perhaps having been caught off-guard by having two opponents shove in front of him while he held the nuts. He might’ve even felt a moment of doubt about his own hand for a few seconds, I don’t know. In any event, I don’t believe Hruby intended to demonstrate “bad poker etiquette” on the hand, even if he technically did.

In any case, I thought the hand perfectly demonstrated how a well-produced, live streaming broadcast of a poker tourney (in real time, without hole cards) can be much, much more dramatic and entertaining than an edited version.

Seeing how long players take to make decisions helps convey the intellectual rigor the game demands much more obviously than is shown in the edited broadcasts. And, of course, getting to enjoy the suspense of discovering what cards the players hold -- drawn out even further in this case by Hruby’s apparent paralysis at the moment of crisis -- can add some thrills, too.