Story: SOME TRIPS ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS

After enjoying some minor poker-playing success at my local card room late last year — I’d managed to cash in at nine of 17 tournaments and was up about $800 for December — I felt like testing my skills against some more advanced players. So, I decided to try my luck at the World Series of Poker circuit events in Tunica, Mississippi, in January.

On January 7, I loaded up my car and drove the roughly 300 miles from my small town in Oklahoma to Tunica in order to enter the $500 (plus $50) no-limit event. There were more than 1,100 players signed up, along with 350 alternates; first place would pay about $250,000. I paid my entry fee somewhat nervously (the most I’d ever spent previously on a tourney was $100) and made my way over to my table, where I sat down in seat number five. While we waited for the tournament to begin, I tried to listen to the conversations around me to possibly pick up a read or two.

We each started with 1,500 in chips, and the blinds were 25-25. I was under the gun for the first hand and looked down to find pocket fives. I called the blind. Player #6 made it 150 to go. Players #10 and #2 both called, the blinds both mucked, and I called.

The flop came K-7-5 rainbow, giving me a set of fives. I checked. Player #6 bet 400. The other two players folded. Before the tournament had begun, I’d gotten the impression that player #6 knew how to play. Now I asked myself: “Does he make that bet with a set of kings?” I didn’t think so. With a set of sevens, maybe. He’d bet like he wanted to take the pot right there, so I put him on either A-K or pocket aces, or possibly a set of sevens. I called.

The turn was the 10 of the fourth suit, which meant there was neither a flush draw nor a real straight draw on the board. I checked. My opponent bet 600, which left him with only 350 behind the line. I thought to myself: “If he’s going to bet so much here, why not go all-in? If he thinks he’s got the best hand, why not value bet 200 or so?” I mulled the situation over in my mind for a while, and then I looked at the two players to my right (who had already folded) and said, “Man, it would suck to get knocked out on the first hand.” They nodded their agreement. I looked over at player #6 and repeated my lament. He sat there motionless. Finally, I pushed all my chips in and said, “Let’s gamble.”

Player #6 immediately called and turned over pocket aces. I flipped over my fives. Player #10, addressing player #6, then said, “I tossed one of your aces.” I was pretty pumped at hearing this news, thinking I was about to double up on the first hand.

Then the dealer peeled off the river . . . and slapped down the sole remaining ace, eliminating me from the tournament. 

So, to review my miserable day: I drove about 600 miles, paid a $550 buy-in, played one hand, and was beaten by a single outer. I guess I should’ve stuck to my local card room!