2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day Six

Phil Hellmuth stepped on my foot!

I was awake somewhat after 10:00 AM on Wednesday. I wanted to turn over and go back to sleep; but getting these updates done is important to me. Lynn said to me, "Put the writing off until this evening." My answer to her was, "I hope to be very busy this evening!" So despite wanting more sleep, I got up, showered, and fixed myself a substantial breakfast of bacon, fried eggs, and toast.

Writing took time, as usual, and the hotel's WiFi was being wonky when I was trying to upload yesterday's blog post. It was after 2:30 PM when I left my room to head for the tournament, not sure whether I had gotten my post to go live or not, and post-production tasks left completely undone. I had time to grab a mini-pizza from the vendor in the convention center hallway. Then I called Debbie at her job for some words of encouragement. Today's round was being played in the Brasilia Room, much less of a zoo than the soccer-field-sized Amazon Room. The cards were in the air while I was still finishing my pizza.

Andrew Prock had posted a scouting report on his friends' and horses' assigned tables to his LiveJournal, so I was not taken by surprise to discover that I was seated at the same table as Barry Greenstein and Sean Sheikhan, nor that mine was not the smallest stack of chips at the table. Sheikhan's table manner is brash and obnoxious. He talks trash, and says ridiculous things, for instance: "You sucked out on me!" to Greenstein when Greenstein's freeroll failed to hit so that Sheikhan's two pair held up for half a pot versus Greenstein's low with a busted straight draw. Obnoxious and provocative table manner is part of the game. But I had to say something when Sheikhan directed his bluster towards a dealer when she had dealt him one too many bring-ins in succession. "Putting other players on tilt is part of the game," I said. "But when you try to put a dealer on tilt, everyone loses." Sheikhan conceded the point. The next hand I was dealt the bring-in. "Besides," I added, "Everyone knows that giving a player the low card for the bring-in is a dealer's way of flirting with him."

Greenstein was playing back at Sheikhan, both with his chips and with his banter. "Sean, do they have in Iran any cartoon that is the equivalent of Mister Magoo? Sean plays just like that old guy who walks off the ledge right onto the girders the crane is hauling up." Greenstein is an affable and friendly man whose misfortune it is to resemble Max Schreck, the actor who played the title role in the German silent film Nosferatu. He looks just as creepy and vampiric in person as he does in his pictures.

With some fortunate half-pots and scoops I was able to work my stack up from the desperate 11,900 to a near-average 26,000. For a while I was back in the hunt. But the streakiness of eight-or-better stud caught me again, and at the first break I had as few chips as I had when I started. But I had outlasted two other players at my table.

During the third round, I was sitting in my seat at one end of the table, with my feet folded back on either side of my chair. Someone squeezed behind me, passing through, and stepped on my right foot. I looked up. It was Phil Hellmuth, coming into the tournament area to schmooze with people he knew who were playing. He hadn't said a word as he went past; it was as if he hadn't noticed. Was it an expression of a grudge he might be holding me because of that beat I put on him in a stud tournament at Casino San Pablo some years back? More likely it was just obliviousness, combined with acquired situational narcissim. "Phil Hellmuth just stepped on my foot!" I announced. The player to my right said, "Maybe that will bring you luck."

Here is my bustout hand. With about 7000 in my stack I woke up with (46)5 with a two-flush. The ante and bring-in are 300, and the betting limits are 1200 and 2400. Treys and sevens were completely live, but another five was out. I completed the bring-in, and got two callers. Fourth street paired my five and bricked one of the other two players. The player who caught good was a young man whom I had played with during my all-night cash-game session, and I knew him to be an aggressive action player — in cash games. I checked, he bet, the other opponent folded, and I called. Sixth street gave me an eight and a brick to the villain. I bet; he called. Sixth street gave us both bricks. I checked; he checked after me. Seventh street gives me no help, and my hand is an open pair of fives. I have less than a bet in my stack. I check to my opponent, and he bets into me. Do I call or do I fold? Calling and losing, I'm out. Folding leaves me almost cripppled — but with enough chips to pay antes for a few hands until I can find an all-in hand and maybe double up from the antes. It seemed like a hellishly close decision to me, but I decided that the half-pot was big enough to be worth it. I called, and my opponent showed a flush and a low. I was out.

Despite my busting out, I was in an excellent mode. I was charged up, feeling good about my play. I told Debbie on the phone, "I fought well, and I died well." I didn't feel finished, and so I was ready to get on some lists for some cash games.

But I noticed that I was hungry. So I went to the Rio's coffee shop and picked out a sandwich from the menu that was covered by the $10 voucher that came with my tournament entry. While I was waiting for my food, I began to notice quite how bone-tired I was. Playing more that day would not be a good idea.

I was seated facing the railing separating the coffee shop from the walkway between the casino and the tournament area. Cole Tibbets, son of the owner of the Oaks Club, walked past and noticed me. We talked across the railing for a minute or two. He is here for the cash games, just like me.

After finishing my meal, I made my way back to my hotel suite. Lynn welcomed me home. I took some time to do the post-production work on my blog post, which had in fact gone live. I went to bed at 8:00 PM.

2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day Zero
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day One
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day Two
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day Three
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day Four
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day Five
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day Seven
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Day Eight
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Days Nine and Ten
2008 World Series of Poker Diary — Days Eleven and Twelve

Tags: poker wsop world series of poker las vegas trip report travelogue eight-or-better stud tournament barry greenstein sean sheikhan phil hellmuth