2012 WSOP, Day 29: Adults Playing Games

“Pretty good deal, if you think about it,” I said to Jessica Welman late yesterday afternoon. “Adults playing games.”

Jessica, who this year has moved into a position as Managing Editor of WSOP.com, had stopped by the event I was helping cover, Event No. 42, the $2,500 Omaha/Seven-Card Stud Hi-Low Split-8 or Better event that had reached its final day. Was one of those scenes worth stopping for.

No, Jessica and I weren’t watching poker being played. It was another mulit-player game, Achtung, for the iPad.

They’d reached the first 20-minute break of the day, with 15 of the 22 players who’d started the day still with chips. I spent the first half of the break chatting and catching up with my friend Tom Schneider, one of the 15.

That’s when Bryan Devonshire, sporting a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, strolled over with his iPad. “C’mon,” he said to Schneider. “Yeah, yeah... I’m in,” said Schneider.

Soon Schneider and a couple of other players still alive in the tourney, Perry Friedman and Mike Krescanko, were huddled around the iPad with Devonshire, all playing Achtung, a game in which each directs a glowing line around the screen with arrows in the corner, trying to cut each other off to be the last one standing. Not unlike the goal of the tourney itself, although the reward for winning was a little different.

Eventually others jumped in to take turns, including my blogging partner Rich, and I stepped back to snap a pic. Finally the break ended, and the other game -- the one with cards and chips -- resumed.

It was the kind of day that reminded one how despite all the drama and seriousness that necessarily will accompany any contest in which participants’ money is put at risk, we are, essentially, watching adults playing games.

Seemed like most of the players who’d made it to those last two tables in Event No. 42 were having a good time. Helped that a number of them are witty, personable guys, too, such as Devonshire, Schneider, and Friedman. Lots of fun table talk punctuated the play throughout the day and evening, with those guys involved a lot of the time.

At one point Devonshire strolled over to Schneider’s table between hands to ask him how things were going. “Want to go fishing?” he added, and Schneider laughed. “I’m kinda bored.”

Meanwhile Friedman had ’em chuckling back at Devo’s table with his self-deprecating (and tongue-in-cheek) analysis of his own play. After winning an Omaha/8 hand in which he’d defended his big blind with a subpar starter, then stubbornly called down to eek out half the pot with a weak high hand, he half-jokingly explained how it had been his experience as a Full Tilt Poker red pro that made him such a calling station.

“Players always tried to bluff me, so I got used to calling a lot,” explained Friedman, wearing a green t-shirt with “NO SOUP FOR YOU” in big white block letters on the front. “I should’ve gotten over that after more than a year, though,” he grinned.

None of those guys would make it to the final table, going out successively in 13th (Schneider), 12th (Friedman), and 11th (Devonshire). But another who also brought the funny did make it that far, long time poker commentator Norman Chad.

Chad actually began the final eight-handed table with a second-place stack, though ultimately saw his run end in sixth place (out of 393 entrants).

Chad wasn’t always cracking wise during play, and in fact was mostly quite serious. But once he got short stacked with six players left, the fun really began.

First came a Stud/8 hand in which a player completed, another called, and the action was on Chad. As he considered what to do, he fished out a fortune cookie, opened it, and began to eat as he read.

“Within the week you will receive an unexpected gift,” he said, sharing what the slip of paper said. “That’s kind of vague,” he decided, and then folded.

It was the Omaha/8 round when Chad finally decided to commit his last chips. I’d noticed a hand or two before Chad had his wallet out underneath the table, and so had a feeling he was planning something else mischievous.

Sure enough, when betting in his last chips, Chad additionally produced a VISA card as well as his AAA card and pushed them forward. “This one has a $50,000 limit,” he deadpanned, pointing to the VISA and suggesting he’d like to use some credit to increase his bet. (Those pictures above of Chad playing his last hand was snapped by always-on-the-spot Joe Giron for PokerNews.)

Fun stuff. And a final table, too. Gotta give the man some credit (rim shot).

After Chad’s elimination things did grow relatively more serious until the young Ukrainian Oleksii Kovalchuk finally took the last of George Danzer’s chips to give the 22-year-old his second WSOP bracelet in two years.

There were probably 30 or so people there cheering Kovalchuk on, and when the final Omaha/8 card fell on the river, they came up to the table and surrounded him, all hugging and cheering.

Soon they were actually lifting him up and throwing him aloft -- no shinola -- something I don’t think I’ve ever seen happen at a tourney before. They weren’t too agile about it, actually dropping him on the floor which led to more laughter. But he was back on his feet in an instant to receive more hugs and congratulations.

It was a suitable conclusion to a day filled with grins from beginning to end. With reminders, too, that at the heart of it, we’re mostly a bunch of adults playing games here. And that really is a pretty good deal.

2012 WSOP, Day 28: The Future Is Now

Yesterday at the Rio I saw Event No. 40 ($2,500 short-handed limit hold’em) play out in exciting fashion.

Was sorry to see Terrence Chan come up short to finish in seventh yesterday (his eighth cash of the summer). Chan is an amazing player, great writer and thinker, and all-around good guy. But it was fun to see another good guy, Ronnie Bardah, somehow manage to comeback from 10th out of 10 to start the day to win the bracelet.

His heads-up opponent, Marco “Crazy Marco” Johnson also made a wild comeback yesterday, starting in ninth. The two of them had about 5-6 big bets each to start the day, and went off at 18-to-1 (Johnson) and 20-to-1 (Bardah) over in the Rio Sports Book.

The final table took place in the Pavilion Room, up on a stage positioned at one end. It was the first time I’d worked there so far this summer, and so got to experience the weird, almost uncanny feeling of sitting in such a large space (see above). They’ve removed a wall this year, I believe, thus and have fit a whopping 257 tables in the massive room.

Announcements of seats opening for players in the cash games echo back and forth above the players’ heads, sounding something like what you might hear in an airport terminal. Looking down on the scene from the stage, the set-up resembles some sort of huge disaster relief shelter or something. A very odd vibe (to evoke something I discussed earlier this week). Post-apocalyptic-like. The kind of scene you cannot help but survey and think of what the WSOP once was, and how different it has all become.

We actually began the day over in the Amazon Room, crammed next to a couple of other tournaments. We had several reporters sitting elbow-to-elbow at a single small table along the wall, with one of the tables for Event No. 42 ($2,500 Omaha/8-Stud/8) mere inches away from us.

Among those seated at the table were Andy Bloch, Alan Boston, and Cyndy Violette. Boston had us all cracking up with his various quips, including comments about the tableau we reporters formed sitting around the table. Someone else said it looked like the Last Supper.

“It’s only the last supper for him,” said Boston, pointing at me, the only one among us with gray hair on top and eyeglasses (both of which definitely tend to give away the fact I have a few years on my colleagues). I laughed, and he said he was jealous of my having hair at all. He then continued forward with one of those hilarious self-loathing monologues such as you might’ve heard him deliver in interviews on the Two Plus Two Pokercast and elsewhere.

“This is how f*cking pathetic my life is,” he explained, noting how coming to play in the event represented a special day out for him. He also had little optimism about his prospects in the tournament. “Hey,” he added with mock glee, “I’m going to the Rio tonight to get f*cked!”

The fun continued as Andy Bloch noted how close we were sitting behind him. Bloch was wearing a black t-shirt with one of those evolution-of-man sequences on the front showing white silhouettes of crawling cavemen becoming upright-walking humans becoming a robot.

“You guys comfy back there?” he asked. “You want to help me play my hands?” he then added with a grin.

You get the sense that guys like Bloch and Boston have experienced all sorts of craziness at the WSOP, and thus can take the perhaps-not-so-ideal conditions in stride. However, before my event moved away from that location and to the Pavilion, I did notice one example of players being less than happy with one particular element of how their tourney was being run.

That Event No. 42 utilized this new “ChipTic” tracking system that involves dealers using Blackberry Playbook tablets to note bustouts and report chip counts at breaks. I hadn’t seen the system in use before, and so got a dealer to show me her tablet during the first break.

In theory the idea seems like it could be a nifty addition that might help a lot with keeping track of who is left in events as well as keeping tabs on their counts. I did notice a problem, though, when I saw that during the breaks there were ChipTic folks counting players’ chips not by eyeballing them -- as we reporters always do -- but actually handling them to count them out.

A few players hung around during that break to complain, with Greg Raymer in particular pointing out how it was a very bad idea to allow anyone to handle players’ chips when they were away. In fact, he refused to leave during the break as he did not want to be gone while others touched his chips.

Raymer’s absolutely right, and as someone who has been counting chips for years without ever touching a single one, I know there is no reason whatsoever why the ChipTic guys need to be handling chips as they are. I have to imagine the WSOP will put a stop to it quickly and instruct everyone to start counting chips by sight.

There were also large screens displaying a scrolling list of bustouts for the event, all having been entered by the dealers as they occurred. Up-to-the-minute stuff, as you see the exact time the player was recorded as having been eliminated. I snapped a pic of one such screen just as Mickey Appleman had wandered over to take a look.

Seemed like a funny juxtaposition to see Appleman -- who has played at the WSOP for more than three decades -- standing there in front of the display checking out who has busted, like some sort of meeting between the past and the future. Kind of reminded me of Bloch’s t-shirt, actually.

Boston had some funny lines about ChipTic, too, suggesting they could start tracking players by their ethnicity, chosen faith, or other factors.

“You know they could enter the data and sort it... they could even have a column for the players’ IQs! You know... over on the right there have a little ‘null set’ sign!”

Will be back at the Rio today, helping out with the coverage of Day 3 of that Event No. 42. Neither Boston, Bloch, Violette, nor Appleman survived yesterday. But of the 22 who did make it to today there are a lot of interesting names at the top of the counts, including Jeff Lisandro, Norman Chad, Tom Schneider, and Bryan Devonshire (all in the top 10).

Should be a fun one. Skip over to PokerNews' live reporting today to see what the future brings.

2012 WSOP, Day 27: “WHATTTAREDBOOOOLLLL!”

I’m a coffee drinker, although only in the mornings. Am having a second cup right now, in fact. Part of the effort to reawaken the brain and try to focus on the day ahead. Writing a blog post helps with the waking up, too.

Not too big on taking in lots of caffeine late in the day or evening. Even in a case like last night, where after a morning’s full of work at the home-away-from-home, I was at the Rio until about 2:30 a.m. helping with the coverage of Event No. 40, the $2,500 Limit Hold’em event for PokerNews. An interesting field left in that one, with Terrence Chan, Sorel Mizzi, Chad Brown, and Rep Porter among the nine players chasing first-time WSOP casher Vincent Gironda who’s led at the end of both Day 1 and Day 2.

My blogging partner Brett had been working since dawn as well, meaning we were both talking about walls and hitting them by the time play concluded and we finally shut things down. Was a good day-slash-night overall, and I was glad to be working with Brett as well as Lee “chingster23” Davy who also helped us out for the middle stretch.

Brett had a Red Bull near the end to help with the final push. I tried a Red Bull once, but didn’t like the taste enough to finish it and thus truly experience its effects. Nor does the massive intake of the drink by a certain tournament director make me any more Red Bullish. (Bang!)

When covering a poker tournament, one grows accustomed to the rhythms of play as well as the improvised choreography of walking in between the tables. It’s an elaborate dance in which reporters, tournament staff members, cocktail waiters and waitresses, massage therapists, and players all participate.

The more you spend time in between the tables, the more you come to anticipate meetings at intersections and the instinctive etiquette involved in stepping aside to allow others to pass. You also become aware of other patterns as well, such as the constant requests from wait staff to players for drink orders.

“Water, Red Bull!” goes the refrain. Over and again. The pitch and intonation of the call punctuates the cricket-like riffling of chips and other ambient noise.

There’s one member of the Rio wait staff, a stout, middle-aged gentleman, whose distinctively gruff baritone always captures the attention of those of us inhabiting the space. Sort of a like a member of the supporting cast, passing in and out of scenes, uttering his one and only line over and again.

He tends to connect the words when he says them, creating a funny-sounding portmanteau that nearly obliterates the intended meaning.

“WHATTTAREDBOOOOLLLL!” he says. And then, a moment later, he says it again.

“WHATTTAREDBOOOOLLLL!”

It almost sounds like he’s marveling at the sight of a striking piece of pottery (“What a red bowl!”). Or a unique breed of cattle (“What a rare bull!”). But we all know what he’s saying. And for whatever reason, we like hearing him say it. Possibly because of the way the call wakes us up momentarily from what can become a somnambulent-like stupor caused by the repetition of hands, of passing between tables, of the dance.

We grin silently as he passes by. Or occasionally take him up on the offer, although like I say I’m more likely to go for the water than the Red Bull.

And the play continues.

2012 WSOP, Day 26: The Vibe

I’ve been asked a couple of times already this week to describe the atmosphere or “vibe” at this year’s WSOP.

Neither time did I feel as though I’d been around the Rio enough really to venture any sort of informed response. I only got to Vegas on Monday, and while I’d stopped by the Amazon Room each day since -- sticking around for much of the day on Wednesday -- I couldn’t really say I’d picked up on any cues to give me any special insight on the matter as of yet.

Yesterday, though, I finally worked a full shift helping cover the sucker for PokerNews, having been assigned to Day 1 of Event No. 40, the $2,500 short-handed limit hold’em event.

The turnout for that one was down a bit from the past few summers, with 302 players entering and 101 surviving to today’s Day 2. Was an event that attracted a lot of top players, with a ton of familiar faces among those competing.

Was kind of a pleasant one to cover given that there was a lot of interesting table talk and humorous moments. That kind of thing that helps considerably as far as live blogging the first day of an event goes, since the business of reporting actual hands and/or tracking fluctuations on the chip counts page have yet to become as vital as they will be during the later stages of the tournament.

Among the posts I was able to write was one about a genuinely intriguing hand that involved Richard Brodie, Millie Shue, and Jerrod Ankenman, delivered under the title “Four Bets, Three Pairs, One Winner.” Related part of a discussion of “transhumanism” between Justin Bonomo and Brian Meinders in “Cards and Contemplations.” And described another hand framed by Humberto Brenes’ sharing sticks of gum with his opponents in “A Humberto Hand to Chew On.”

Near the end of the night I came close to posting again about a conversation between Jeffrey Lisandro and his table regarding the 2006 WSOP Main Event. Lisandro was telling the table the story of the infamous addition of 2 million extra chips with just 21 players left in the ME. (Lisandro ultimately finished 17th.) If you aren’t familiar with that story, check out the series of investigative articles about it by Amy Calistri and Tim Lavalli on the topic written a few months later.

Was very intriguing to hear Lisandro’s take on that situation, but I realized it seemed a little much to share in a live blog, given how complicated the situation was. Suffice it to say, Lisandro wasn’t happy about a couple of his opponents receiving big chip bonuses like that late in such a huge event, and believed it may well have cost him some considerable cabbage given how things played out.

So how was the “vibe” in the Amazon yesterday?

Well, for most of our event the final table of Event No. 36, the $3,000 NLHE Shootout, was happening nearby in the “mothership,” with the rowdy British fans crazily cheering on eventual winner Craig McCorkell for almost the entire duration of our event’s first day of play.

That said, the overall feeling didn’t strike me as nearly so boisterous or excited for those of us outside the “mothership.” My buddy F-Train visited at one point during the night, and he came away tweeting that the entire scene at the Rio struck him as “un-intense,” which seemed to me as good a made-up word as any to describe it.

I’ll refer again to something I mentioned yesterday regarding the lack of media presence, which I think is making things seem a little less urgent or exciting than at past WSOPs.

To be honest, I didn’t really see anyone other than myself and my blogging partner Mickey spending much time at all covering Event No. 40, which I took to indicate that the “scaled back” staffs of most outlets have forced them to let Day 1s go for the most part in favor of covering events once they reach the money and get to final tables. Makes sense. Such is the way of things at present.

Of course, there may be other factors involved, too, here. Like a general sense of fatigue among the so-called “poker economy” following an especially stressful year-plus. Something affecting players, media, staff... everybody.

We’ll see going forward if this apparent lack of intensity continues. I expect events like the $50K Poker Player’s Championship (Event No. 45) that starts Sunday, the $1,000,000 Big One for One Drop (Event No. 51) that goes off on July 1, and, of course, the Main Event beginning July 7 will bring out more media. And more hype.

To me, when it comes to the WSOP, a lowkey vibe doesn’t really jibe. But like I say, it probably won’t stay this way for long. Should enjoy the (relative) quiet while it lasts.

2012 WSOP, Day 25: Chasing Dreams

Woke up this morning from a dream in which I was chasing a little boy around a large yard. He was tossing my laptop around like it was a frisbee. He’d gleefully throw it several yards, chase it down, pick it up, and throw it again. Meanwhile I couldn’t catch up to him, nor could I seem to shout loudly enough to get his attention.

Might be tempting to psychoanalyze this one. You know, to come up with theories about work-related anxiety, self-identity, the creative process, the inner child, what have you. But I think it came mainly from the background image on my desktop, a picture of me and my three-year-old nephew -- not the little demon in my dream -- tossing a ball in his back yard.

Then again, I can’t say for sure what caused the dream. Hey, I’m just a reporter.

Spent a lot of yesterday at the Rio, despite not being officially working. Got there around two o’clock, just as the final table of Event No. 35, the $2,500 mixed hold’em event, was starting. That was the one with Phil Ivey among the final nine, having made his fifth final table of the summer.

They were in the “mothership,” slightly modified from last summer although essentially the same arena-like structure positioned in the center of the Amazon Room. There were quite a few there to watch at the start. The Dutchman Joep van den Bijgaart began the day as chip leader, with Ivey coming in with a relative short stack in seventh position.

I was curious about the odds to bet on those making the final day, a new thing they’ve added over in the Rio Race and Sports Book this year. Here’s what they had for each of the final nine:

1. Joep van den Bijgaart (605,000) -- 3/2
2. Samuel Golbuff (526,000) -- 2/1
3. Michael Gathy (418,000) -- 5/2
4. Erik Cajelais (368,000) -- 3/1
5. Chris Tryba (347,000) - 7/2
6. Salman Behbahani (347,000) -- 5/1
7. Phil Ivey (169,000) -- 5/1
8. Brent Wheeler (158,000) -- 9/1
9. Michael Foti (105,000) -- 12/1

Can’t say any of those bets seemed especially appealing to me. Even as someone with a bit more knowledge than the average punter about some of the players not named Ivey -- e.g., I knew Gathy had won a bracelet this summer, that Cajelais was tough (and a bracelet holder), that van den Bijgaart had been a Team PokerStars Pro -- I didn’t feel like the reward for any of those bets came close to the risk. (What do you think?)

Tryba ended up winning, hitting a straight flush on the last hand versus Cajelais. Van den Bijgaart finished fourth. And Ivey was knocked out in eighth not long after a nutty hand with Golbuff in which the latter claimed most of Ivey’s stack.

It was a couple of hours in, during which stretch Golbuff had sunk down in the counts after having lost a lot in a limit hand versus Tryba. In that one Golbuff had raised preflop, bet the flop, then checked the turn as the board came J-4-4-8. A queen fell on the river, and when Tryba bet Golbuff raised. Tryba tanked, finally calling with K-Q, and Golbuff showed .

The game had switched back to no-limit when Ivey -- still with about the same stack he’d started the day with (around 170,000) -- opened with a min-raise from the cutoff, then Golbuff shoved all in from the button for 159,000 or almost 16 big blinds. It folded back and Ivey quickly called, tabling pocket eights. Golbuff then sheepishly showed his .

But the board ran out , the river giving Golbuff a straight and leaving Ivey with just 11,000 and an open-mouthed look wordlessly indicating “WTF?” All in on the next hand against three opponents, Ivey was soon out the door. As were a lot of those in attendance.

Gonna venture to say my dream was a lot easier to figure out than that one.

Later in the evening I spent a little while over at Day 1 of Event No. 38, one of the $1,500 NLHE events before taking off. Got to assist Josh Bell for a couple of hours as he covered that one, mainly just to get myself reoriented a little before starting back today for real.

Kind of a scaled-back staff this year as far as PokerNews goes, which means the Day 1 coverage can’t be as thorough as in past years. In fact, most of the time only a single blogger is being assigned on these first days, which will be the case for me tonight with Event No. 40, the $2,500 6-max. limit hold’em event.

That same “scaling back” is true for most of the poker media this year, I think. Met up with Dan Michalski of Pokerati yesterday and among the things we chatted about was the relatively empty media box and how things have changed over the years with regard to WSOP coverage.

Dan pointed out how not long ago -- before Twitter, live streams, and so on -- those reporting on the WSOP were delivering information to an audience that couldn’t really receive it any other way.

But now everyone is kind of reporting on themselves (and each other), a phenomenon that is affecting what the media -- already needing to be judicious about resources -- chooses to do with its reporting. I wrote something about this trend three summers ago in a post titled “Land of 1000 Reporters,” well before everyone (it seems) was on Twitter.

Last year this same $2,500 LHE event attracted a relatively small group of 354 players -- a lot for one reporter, but not nearly as daunting as the big field of 2,500-plus Josh was tasked with covering yesterday.

Follow along over on PokerNews’ live reporting page, if you’re curious to see what I come up with as I chase back and forth, trying to catch hands and give an idea what is happening as some stacks go up and others disappear.

Don’t expect it to be too difficult. Unless of course that kid shows up and gets ahold of my laptop.

2012 WSOP, Day 24: Easing In

As I mentioned at the end of yesterday’s post, Tuesday was a day of errands and trying to set up shop here at the home-away-from-home. Got some groceries. Unpacked (finally). Settled in.

I did swing by the Rio for a quick visit to say hello to folks and see what was happening. Phil Ivey was busy making another final table. He’s currently seventh in chips among the final nine in Event No. 35, the $2,500 mixed hold’em event.

That’s Ivey’s sixth cash so far this year, and fifth final table. At those other final tables he finished seventh, fifth, third, and second.

A little bit of buzz this morning about Ivey being more “aloof” than usual this year. See, for example, this CardPlayer article on the subject. Also note this interesting post about Ivey and Brian Hastings by Donnie Peters from the coverage yesterday, which Jessie May juxtaposed with the CP piece in a tweet late last night.

Keeping a low profile is tough when making so many deep runs. In fact, Ivey’s success this summer is adding to that impression that he’s not being as involved with the media or even other players as some would like -- after all, it’s seems like he’s been playing on the main stage in the “mothership” at a final table every other night.

I know with Ivey there’s this added sense that he somehow “owes” others something, especially after his declaration last summer that he wasn’t playing in the WSOP because other players had money still tied up on Full Tilt Poker, the site he had represented. (Still the case, of course.)

While I’m one to appreciate players making themselves available and doing what they can to support the game and the community surrounding it, I’ve never thought players should be made to feel as though they “owe” others anything along these lines.

I remember writing something way, way back in 2006 to that effect after Jamie Gold won the WSOP Main Event and everyone wondered whether he’d follow the “ambassador” model set by the most recent champs. “He needn’t feel it necessary to live up to the ‘standard’ established by Moneymaker, Raymer, and Hachem,” I said of Gold. “Nor should his actions over the next year be regarded as any ‘standard’ for future winners to follow.”

It would be different if this were a game (or “sport,” as some would have it) in which the players weren’t themselves providing the prize money. That is to say, it seems reasonable to me that -- for example -- the NBA makes LeBron James, Kevin Durant, and others answer questions from the media following NBA finals games.

But for poker players, that sort of thing should be their own choice. Even the socializing and engaging with other players is optional. Like tipping dealers, the players can decide for themselves how much they want to give.

I did get a chance to play a little poker myself yesterday. Late in the afternoon I wandered over to the MGM where I had ideas I might play the weekly $120 H.O.R.S.E. tournament they have each Tuesday. Kevmath had arrived in Vegas earlier in the day and he and I had talked about playing it, although by the time I went over he was saying he might be late and/or might not make it at all.

I decided to kill time at a 2-4 LHE table while deciding whether or not to stick around for the evening tourney. I walked through the MGM to the spot where the poker room used to be to find the space emptied out. Signs pointing to another room across from the buffet led me around the slot machines and to the room’s current, temporary location. I’d ask later and was told the original space was being renovated, with plans to move back this fall.

The new location was just fine, I thought (that is a picture of it up above). In fact, the new spot was much quieter and more pleasant for playing. Before there had always been this loud cacophony erupting every half-hour near the poker room that I think involved some sort of Coyote Ugly-type dancing on a bar or something. Was never very pleasant given how it made hearing each other or anything else impossible for the few minutes it lasted.

It turned out to be a fun session in which I came away with what amounted to a modest hourly rate for a profit. A few grins per hour, too.

A woman sitting to my left lasted approximately 45 minutes, leaving $50 down and three vodka tonics up. A young Englishman from near Manchester, Ian, took her seat, and over the course of the next couple of hours he and I had enjoyable conversation, made more so by the fact that we were both steadily chipping up.

One other character who’d initially sat on my left then moved to my right introduced himself to me as Doc. He’d moved in order to see the board better, claiming he was half-blind despite pulling out a paperback to read between hands and asking for the Red Sox game on one of the television screens.

Doc definitely had trouble seeing the board, though, as was proven to me early when he lost a hand to me after claiming to be chasing a flush draw that wasn’t there. Another hand developed shortly thereafter between Doc and Bob who sat across from us in which Doc made the same mistake, although that one ended a bit more dramatically.

I’m pretty sure Bob raised and got a few callers who all saw a flop come something like . Bob bet the flop and I believe only Doc called. The turn was the , and when Bob bet this time Doc quickly raised and Bob called. The river was the and Bob decided to lead out once more, with Doc again raising without much hesitation.

Bob called again, and Doc somewhat confusingly called out “all black” before tabling his for a rivered wheel. Bob shook his head and with a wry grin turned over his . He’d flopped top set, but Doc had made runner-runner to make his straight.

As the dealer pushed him the chips, Doc took a closer look at the board and began apologizing -- he’d thought he flopped a club flush draw, then hit it on the turn, which explained his play.

Doc was kind of a character, it turned out, tossing out various one-liners here and there. “My wife calls me a prince among men,” he said. “Only she spells prince with a ‘k’. Might be missing a couple of other letters, too.”

On our end of the table we were calling the bad beat Doc had delivered to Bob “hand of the day” until another arose to challenge it, one which also involved a flopped set getting undermined by a runner-runner comeback.

In that one a player straddled from UTG, and sitting a couple of seats over I looked down at . I made it three bets, a short-stacked elderly gentleman in the cutoff cold-called, the woman in the big blind called, and the straddler called as well.

There were four of us, then, to see the flop come . It checked to me and I bet, and the cutoff and big blind called. The turn was the , I bet again and both called, putting the man in the cutoff seat all in. The river brought a fourth heart, the , and when my lone remaining opponent checked to me I ventured one more bet which she called.

The woman in the big blind turned over her hole cards, one of which was the . I showed my king-high flush to beat hers. Then the all-in player in the cutoff turned over his -- !

Was something like a $60 pot in the end, a little bit of which I did get back thanks to the fact that the winner had run out of chips on the turn. Afterwards I thought to myself how if I’d won the hand I’d have been approaching the buy-in for the $120 tourney (no shinola), not something I necessarily had anticipated being able to pull off at a 2-4 table. Also thought how on a hand with a straddle -- actually the only time anyone had done so the entire session -- pocket kings and pocket aces had been dealt.

I ended up bailing, another exchange of messages with Kevmath making it seem like he wasn’t going to make it. He did, ultimately, as did a few others I knew, which made me later wish I’d stuck around. But in truth I was feeling a little fatigued and had some other work to take care of. Besides, I liked leaving the poker room with more cabbage than I’d had when I entered.

Today it appears I’ll head back to the Rio, probably joining with the PokerNews coverage for a couple of hours before I start in earnest tomorrow with a full shift. You know, starting slow. Easing in.

2012 WSOP, Day 23: “Everybody Hang On!!!”

Had to use all my fingers and toes and then start over to figure out what day yesterday was for the 2012 World Series of Poker. Like last summer, I’m jumping in a few weeks after the start and will be in Las Vegas until the Main Event has wound down to the November Nine on Monday, July 16.

Arrived on kind of an interesting day, in fact, with some noteworthy finishes happening in three different events. Also walked in on a final table featuring both of the Phils -- Ivey and Hellmuth. That picture is from when Ivey was eliminated in fifth place in the $10,000 H.O.R.S.E. event (more on that below).

In stark contrast to my last bit of air travel, my flights to Vegas were smooth and on time. I connected in Minneapolis, then the three-hour flight to LV provided a few items of interest.

Most notable was the fellow in the row behind me, who thanks to having consumed a prodigious number of Long Island iced teas before boarding had already crossed over into the sort of babbling, erratic, slightly scary zone of inebriation to have gained the notice of flight attendants. Even before all had boarded, they were reseating people so as to give him space for his potential antics. (Mental note: If you prefer a full row to yourself, get blotto before boarding.)

As we began to taxi Mr. Drinky engaged a nearby ten-year-old in an animated conversation about Vegas. “You’re gonna love it!” he assured the boy. He then began blurting out numbers seemingly at random, a drunken parody of a countdown I assumed. Then, as the plane hurtled down the runway and we titled skywards, he suddenly screamed...

“EVERYBODY HANG ON!!!”

And we did.

Thankfully he passed out shortly thereafter, and we didn’t hear from him again until we landed. At which point a much-refreshed Mr. Drinky reported to us all with sincere incredulity “I don’t even remember getting on this plane.” As if that were news.

My seat mates were two middle-aged sisters from South Dakota who were heading for a week’s vacation in LV. The one next to me was friendly and chatty, and within two minutes of buckling had already explained to me how she’d broken three bones in her wrist trying to toss a dead rabbit her four-pound Maltese had dragged to her door.

Slipped and fell, it seemed, thus resulting in a cast, a supply of Vicodin, and a future surgery date. I ventured that since it’s hard to get much practice tossing dead rabbits, injuries were more likely to occur. But she didn’t really notice my attempt at joke-making, instead continuing her monologue until I finally had to pull out my headphones.

That didn’t stop her from repeated offers of licorice sticks and questions about what I was listening to. No thanks, I said. And no thanks. And Ween, Chocolate and Cheese. She seemed fairly baffled by all three answers.

Landed around 7 p.m. Vegas time, was checked in by 8, then got over to the Rio by around 9 to reunite with several friends, including Seth Palansky and Alan Fowler (of the WSOP), Jess Welman (now also of the WSOP), AlCantHang, Alex (a.k.a. “The Chip Bitch”), and B.J. Nemeth. From the latter scored myself a copy of the much-coveted “BJ’s Pocket Guide to the 2012 WSOP,” which I’ve already found myself consulting a couple of times.

Also caught up with PokerNews buds Donnie, Chad, and Rich, and got to meet and visit with Lee “chingster23” Davy who is also working with PN this year. And before leaving I chatted some as well with Marco and Zack of QuadJacks.

As I mentioned, I happened to arrive in time to see some of that $10K H.O.R.S.E. final table (Event No. 32). They were five-handed, with John Monnette leading and Ivey on the short stack. Ivey would soon bust, followed by Hellmuth shortly thereafter. Then David “Bakes” Baker chipped up, survived Paul Sokoloff’s elimination in third, then beat Monnette to win his second WSOP bracelet.

I remember Bakes’ first bracelet quite well, won in 2010 in another event featuring a super-tough field, the $10K 2-7 NL draw. I wrote about that one here at the time, once asking if it might be called “The Real Tournament of Champions?” thanks to the much-decorated field. Baker’s definitely established himself as a top tier player with these two wins.

There were a couple of other notable victories at the WSOP yesterday. Carter Phillips took Event No. 31, the $1,500 no-limit hold’em event. Phillips lives in Charlotte, NC, which just happens to be where Baker is originally from, too. And where a certain “Poker in American Film and Culture” class is taught. Clearly a great place to learn about poker.

And Allyn Jaffrey Shulman won Event No. 29, the $1,000 Seniors No-Limit Hold’em Championship, outlasting Dennis Phillips heads-up and an enormous 4,100-plus player field to do so. That’s the first time a woman has won an event other than the ladies event since Vanessa Selbst’s $1,500 pot-limit Omaha victory in 2008. As I’ve written about here before, I helped cover that event back in ’08, and so remember than Shulman was in fact the last woman eliminated in that event (she finished 41st), leaving only Selbst to defeat the other 39 and win the bracelet.

Looking at a “taking care of business” day for me today as I settle in to the home-away-from-home. Might venture over to the MGM to jump in a low buy-in H.O.R.S.E. tourney tonight, joining our buddy Kevmath who is also making a late arrival to Vegas today. Have a little bit of space here, schedule-wise, before things take off in earnest for me later in the week, and so might take advantage.

Won’t be a lot of time for playing after that, though, once the reporting ride begins. Will be too busy hanging on.

Back on the Road (to the WSOP)

Here we go again. Am sitting in an airport once more, about to journey westward to Vegas where I should arrive around dinner time. Will then be in the desert the next four weeks or so, helping cover the World Series of Poker. The idea of taking a trip in which I’ll actually be arriving at my destination the same day I leave seems too easy, after my most recent travel experience in which I unexpectedly spent nights in hotels twice along the way.

The longer this here poker writing adventure goes, the more I sense myself kind of stepping back further and further, adopting a broader perspective on things like the WSOP or the game itself. Teaching this “Poker in American Film and Culture” class as I’ve done several times now is further adding to that feeling, given how I frequently find myself in conversations about the place of poker in our world.

Which is significant, to be sure. But not everything.

This will be my fifth time joining the PokerNews crew to help with their WSOP coverage, which means my perspective on going out has necessarily changed, too. Just glancing at posts I’ve written during previous sojourns at the WSOP kind of illustrates that shift, too.

That first summer (2008), that excited feeling never went away. Seemed like I was marveling at everything, and breathlessly sharing as much as I could. The title of a post like “Reporting from the Eye of the Hurricane” is indicative, kind of suggesting how wild it all felt.

By the next year (2009), I was still spellbound, writing posts like “Anatomy of a Hand Report” in which I broke down the process of reporting on a single hand, the fascination with details still indicating a writer wholly absorbed by the ins and outs of chronicling what he sees.

Then by the following summer (2010), posts with titles like “Groundhog Day,” “The Match Without End,” and “The Long Walk” suggest themes of routine and fatigue starting to emerge.

Finally, last year (2011) I think I achieved a kind of minor epiphany about what exactly I was doing and the meaning of it all. A (better) sense of perspective, I guess you could say. I’d also come to recognize my own limits -- intellectual, creative, physical -- and how they necessarily shaped what I could do as an individual trying to report on even a small piece of a spectacle as huge as the World Series of Poker.

“You catch a glimpse here and there,” I wrote in one post near the end last summer. “But only a glimpse. Imperfect. Incomplete. And as you write it down and try to share what you saw with others, the tourney continues while you look away. Running away from you, forever to hide in the past.”

Going back again today, I realize I’m caught between anticipating new experiences and returning to something I know pretty well. The former makes me eager, but anxious, too. Meanwhile, with the latter I certainly think about the drudgery of routine, but also the comfort -- even pleasure -- of the familiar.

All of which is to say I’m looking forward to returning, most especially to reunite with old friends. And make some new ones. I’ll try to let you know along the way how it’s all going here. You know... let you peek at my hand once in a while.

Hellmuth, Again

Not too much time for scribbling today, partly because I’m trying to get my act together in preparation for flying out to Las Vegas on Monday. Going back again to help cover the World Series of Poker with PokerNews, and so will be there for the rest of the WSOP.

Instead I’m just going to point you to a couple of other WSOP-related bits of writing I’ve done over the past week or so.

One is a column for PokerListings in which I looked back at the two-hour ESPN show dedicated to the final table of the 2002 WSOP, the last “pre-boom” WSOP in which Robert Varkonyi surprisingly won. The column is titled “Before the Boom: Re-watching the 2002 WSOP,” and in it I pulled out various details from the broadcast to talk about, mainly looking at how different the scene was a decade ago compared to today.

An element of Varkonyi’s win and the ESPN show that gets talked about a lot was Phil Hellmuth’s promise during the early stages of the final table to shave his head should Varkonyi win. I mention that in the column, though don’t make too much of it.

However, I do make a lot of Hellmuth in the other piece I wanted to point you to, a column for Betfair Poker occasioned by Hellmuth’s winning his 12th WSOP bracelet earlier this week, titled “Hellmuth Stands Over All at the WSOP.” I spent a little time poring over his WSOP stats and all of those records he now holds, and ending up pulling out some interesting tidbits regarding what he’s done at the WSOP from 1988-2012.

Probably the most curious thing I realized when looking at Hellmuth’s WSOP record was that of all 89 cashes he’s had (including 45 final tables), his win in this year’s razz event marked his very first cash in a razz tourney at the WSOP.

Speaking of Hellmuth’s 12th bracelet, you might recall that post-victory interview with Hellmuth by Lynn Gilmartin that I embedded in a post earlier this week. A snippet of that interview actually appeared on ESPN’s Sports Nation show yesterday.

In the interview, Hellmuth is a little bit cheeky about what he plans to do with the bracelet, saying he’s giving it to someone but refusing to provide a name for the intended recipient. Haley Hintze has an interesting theory about who Hellmuth might have in mind. She has posted a column over on Kick Ass Poker about the topic, if you’re curious.

I hope you enjoy all of those reads. And have a good weekend.