Terrence

I'm not sure what to think about the word "destiny."  I use it, and I know what it means, but I don't think I believe in it, if that makes any sense.  I would hate to think that there are things beyond my control and that I'm predestined for anything, good or bad.  That being said, poker is a game that makes you think about destiny a lot.  The horrible suck-outs, the miracle rivers, the times when you get the same crap hand four times in a row as if some higher power wants you to either get rich or go broke with Q8 offsuit--it's like destiny is sitting at the table and knows every thought in your head.  God knows I'd like to, but it's hard to discount destiny entirely.

There are certain things that almost ever poker player dreams about--hitting a royal flush, waking up to aces after a raise and a reraise, or flopping a set against an aggressive opponent.  For most players, though, the biggest dream of all is to play in the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas, with the pros and the wannabes and everyone in between.  I don't know where I stand in that mix, but I do know that this year, I'll be living that dream after winning a World Series of Poker Main Event satellite this past Sunday on Pokerstars.

Ever since I started playing poker seriously, I've entertained the notion of playing in the World Series.  Part of it is the dream of hitting it big, but more than anything, I've always wanted to challenge myself at the highest level.  Most things that I take seriously, I do well at, but I've rarely if ever had the chance to prove myself on so big a stage.  Any level of poker that I've played at, I've flourished, from home games to online play to the pinnacle of my poker career, my win at Hold 'Em For Hunger.

I decided a long time ago that this would be the year I finally gave the World Series a shot.  My bankroll has more than doubled since November thanks to consistent online results, and I felt comfortable ponying up the buy-in for a satellite that gave me a reasonable shot at success.  I've been telling Pete for months that I was going to take a shot.  If I ever faced any skepticism, I told him, "It's destiny."  Tough to argue with that, right?

Pokerstars may have its faults, but one thing it does right is its selection of games and tournaments.  The site always offers an impressive selection of satellites when the World Series rolls around, and this year was no different.  I settled on entering the $370 satellite that promised at least 200 Main Event seats would be given away.  I knew going in that there would be at least 7,000 entrants in the satellite, but I tend to do well against huge fields, and no other tournament guaranteed as many spots.

In the week leading up to the satellite, I tried a couple times to qualify and save myself the $370.  I entered into a 2400 fpp one-table satellite that sent the winner to the $370, but fell short in third place when I gambled for nearly all the chips preflop with A6 and ran into AQ.  I tried one more a couple days before the tournament, but went out in fifth in unremarkable fashion.  My last effort came half an hour before the $370 was to commence, when I decided to roll the dice in an $82 super-turbo satellite.  You began with 500 in chips, 25-50 blinds, and three-minute levels, so there was no skill whatsoever, but it seemed like it was worth a crack.  I got in with KQ against A9 on the first hand, turned a queen, but lost to rivered trips.  At 4:30 in the afternoon, the time had come to suck it up and buy in for the full amount.

My most pressing goal in the satellite was to get a good stack early.  That would allow me to pick my spots better, steal some blinds, and stay ahead of the blinds. Thinking long-term, I wanted to make it to the final 1,000 with an average stack.  I figured this would give me a fair shot to make a run at a seat.  I began the tournament with 3,000 in chips, and folded mostly for the first 15 minutes.  My first playable hand was 55 in the small blind.  With blinds at 10-20 and three limpers, I opted to limp also, and the big blind checked behind.  The flop was picture perfect--259 rainbow.  I made a pot-sized bet of 100, and got one caller on the button.  The turn was a jack, and this time I bet out 200.  Again I was called.  I figured my opponent for something like 89 or T9 at this point.  The river was another 5, giving me quads.  Bingo!  I'd been betting the whole way and my opponent didn't seem to be going anywhere, so this time I threw out 600.  After about ten seconds of though, my opponent went all-in.  I couldn't call fast enough!  It turns out that he had a busted wheel draw with A4, and I guess he figured the 5 as a scare card for me if I had been betting with a 9.  Unfortunately for him, I wasn't going anywhere.

This hand served three very important purposes at this early stage of the tournament.  A) It effectively doubled my stack, giving me plenty of time to pick my spots.  B) It gave me more chips than anyone at the table, which is always great because you can't bust if you have everyone covered.  C) It showed my opponents that when I'm betting, I have the goods.  I figured that this information could buy me a lot of uncontested pots down the line.

My next confrontation came a few hands later from the cutoff seat.  It folded to me, and with my A8 spades, I made a standard raise.  Only the big blind called, and we saw a flop is QJ7, with two spades.  He checked, and I threw out a 2/3 pot-sized bet.  He made a relatively small check-raise, and I had pretty much two options.  Call, and look for my spade, or reraise it and seize control of the hand back.  I didn't figure him for anything more than something like KQ, so I reraised him.  He thought for about ten seconds and tossed it. 

It was a while until I played another big hand, but that was fine by me.  I picked off a lot of small pots, although I wish I could have gotten some action with my KQ on a KQx board.  That being said, I was off to a great start and had settled in quite well. 

About an hour-and-a-half into the tournament, I took a decent pot with A9 after my opponent double-barrel bluffed into me when I hit trips on board.  A few hands later, I milked the same opponent from the earlier A8 spades hand on a jack high board when I held KJ and he held QJ.  I bet small the whole way (the board was something like J5789), and he paid it off.

For most of the tournament, I made a point of trying to be the first one into the pot, or at least not passively calling many raises preflop.  This patient approach hadn't put me in a difficult spot yet, but a few of my table-mates weren't adhering to the same philosophy.  The guy directly to my left was a bluff machine, and he gave most of his chips away on two straight ill-advised hands.  With under 500 in chips left, he figured to be pushing soon, and it was with that knowledge that I made the following play.  I picked up pocket jacks in mid-position, and with the blinds at 50-100, decided just to limp.  This was on the very next hand after the guy on my left had bluffed his chips away, and usually I've found that people will get desperate and push if there's any dead money (limpers) in the pot.  Right on cue, he pushed, the rest of the table folded, and I instantly called the small raise with my jacks.  He had only J7 of diamonds, so I had him mugged, and no miracle came to save him.

I turned up the pressure a bit after this hand, raising nearly every pot that folded to me in late position.  For the most part, the table respected my raises and ceded blinds to me, but even when they called, I was able to take it with a bet on the flop.  This didn't last for long, though, as my table broke and put me in with some unfamiliar faces.  Strikingly unlike my previous table, this one seemed to be hyper-aggressive.  Tons of raising, reraising, and pushing at this table, and not always with big hands from what I could tell.  I dialed the preflop raises back a notch, and tried to wait for a real hand.  My chance came after only 10 or 12 hands.  With blinds at 100-200 and an ante of 25, the under the gun player made it 600 to go.  He had raised or reraised four pots since I had sat down, and I had pocket jacks on the button.  I hate jacks, and this hand is exactly why.  I would hate to just call and let overcards or something ugly hit, but it seems that so many times when you reraise, you get mugged by a monster.  All I had to go on was that this guy was heavily involved in a lot of pots, and I decided to push, a huge reraise, and try to just take the pot right there.  Much to my surprise, he called almost instantly!  That's usually not a good things with jacks, but amazingly, he showed 99, making me a huge favorite to double up to over 10k in chips.  Bucking the typical Pokerstars trend, the better hand actually won, and I was once again in a great spot.

This table definitely had more chips than my original one, with the average stack being around 6k.  I was once again the table chip leader though, thanks to those jacks.  I knew how aggressive everyone was, though, so I still wanted to sit back and let the cards come to me.

There's an interesting aspect to Pokerstars that I haven't seen anywhere else.  Players have the option of displaying their "star level," which basically equates to how much they play and what stakes they play at.  One star is the default, but more stars usually indicates a more experienced, and usually better, player.  Everyone has the option to display these stars at the table or to hide them, and I love it when my opponents choose to display them.  Most of the 3-, 4-, and 5-star players are very good, but they can also be picked on because of their stars.  Allow me to explain.  Better players tend to fold more often.  Position is important to them, as is stack size and a host of other factors that poor players don't even contemplate.  These are the guys that you can actually bluff, because they don't feel the need to be all-in every hand.  It was this thinking that factored into my decision-making on my next big hand.

A player in middle position made a standard raise.  This guy had four stars, and he seemed to be playing a smart, aggressive game.  I was on the button with AJ.  Most times, I would just fold this, as it doesn't play very well post-flop, but I thought this might be a good chance to steal a pot.  I made a sizeable reraise, and after thinking for just a few seconds, he folded.  This play came in handy throughout the tournament, but it's important to note that you need a solid image to be able to pull it off.  I hadn't been getting out of line, and any time I had shown a hand at this table, it was a monster, so my few reraises were shown respect.

Slow-playing is not a strategy I like to overuse.  Especially in a satellite, when survival is the most important thing.  A few hands after my steal on the button, I picked up AQ under the gun and made a standard raise to 900.  The cutoff was my only caller, and we went to the flop.  It was about all I could ask for, 34Q rainbow.  It's a pretty dry board, so I figured a continuation bet might just take it down, and there isn't much I'm worried about letting hit.  Really a king is the only thing I wouldn't be happy about.  So I checked it in hopes of trapping.  He didn't oblige, though, checking behind.  Maybe HE'S trapping, I thought.  I wasn't quite sure what to put him on.  The turn was a 7, seemingly another safe card for me.  I tried to make it look like I had given up on the hand, and I checked again.  This time he bet out 1200, about half the pot.  He had another 4500 behind, and I didn't want to let some funky straight hit, so I pushed.  Plus I figured this might confuse him a bit since I played it kind of unorthodox.  He used up a good chunk of his timer thinking, and eventually he called, showing pocket tens.  I guess he put me on a bluff, but the river blanked and he was out.  With 13,000 in the pot, this put me up to 17,000 and feeling good.

It should be noted that every time I hit one of these big hands to double up or take someone out, I gave a thunderous clap that almost gave Brigid a heart attack each time it happened.  She was on the other couch watching the baseball, and my world famous claps almost put an end to her.  She survived, though, so that was good!

It wasn't long after this hand that I got moved to a much tougher table.  This one had a few players with very sizeable stacks, including one guy that had over 30,000.  Not long after being moved, though, I picked up QQ under the gun.  Blinds were 250-500 at this point with an ante of 60.  I made it 1650 to go, and it folded to the big blind, who also happened to be the big stack.  After just a couple seconds of thought, he pushed all-in!  My first reaction to this was, "No way in hell he'd do that with aces or kings."  I figured him for either AK or a mid-pair.  Either way, my queens rate to be good almost all the time.  I really didn't want to be against AK, but I knew that winning this pot could give me a real chance.  You gotta win a coinflip sometime, though, right?  I thought for a little bit but then made the call, and much to my delight, he had pocket tens.  Losing to my favorite hand would certainly have hurt, but luckily the board was safe, vaulting me up around 30,000 and putting a serious dent into the other guy.

For the next two hours, I basically stole my way up the ranks.  I increased my stack by more than 50% without getting into one major pot, moving up over 45,000.  From what I could figure, the average stack when we got down to the final 250 or so would be around 100,000, so I was well on way to being there.  About two hours of risk-free poker later, I got tangled up in the most important hand of the tournament.  Before doing that, though, let me tell you about one player that made a sick, sick, SICK comeback to win a seat.  He was at my table during my stealing spree, and he lost a huge coinflip when his tens were outraced by AK.  This left him with under 650 in chips, with blinds at 250-500.  From there, he won literally five out of the next eight or so hands, flying up the ranks from about dead last to over 40,000 in chips.  We ended up being separated before it got too close to the money, but I checked the final list and saw that he won a seat.  It has to be one of the most awesome comebacks I've seen.  But anyway, back to the pot of the tournament.

Obviously, queens are a great hand, but they can be tricky as anything to play in some situations.  This was one of those times.  With blinds at 600-1,200, the player under the gun +1 made a standard raise to 3,600.  I was next to act, and I had those tricky ladies.  I don't think folding can be a real consideration here, so I was between reraising and calling.  My decision basically came down to the fact that if I reraised and another player, or even the original guy, pushed on me, I would be sick to my stomach.  I had a big stack at this point, but so did the original raiser, so I opted to just call.  I don't know that it was my intention at the time, but I think my play certainly helped disguise the strength of my hand.  If you want to look at it the other way, it also made me vulnerable to a lot of hands--after all, it was tough to really put him on anything at this point.

The flop was highly coordinated, coming 456 with two hearts.  I didn't have a heart, but you would think queens are probably good at this point.  The original raiser didn't seem concerned, though, and he led right out for 4,800.  I checked our stacks and saw that I had him edged by about 16,000 but hestill had another 22,000 behind.  There was already over 10,000 in the pot.  I still didn't quite know what to put him on, but I figured aggressive was the way to go.  I had a strong hand, and he could easily call with a pair between 8s and jacks.  Of course, kings or aces would call, too, as would a set.  You have to take chances somewhere, though, and I made the decision to push.  Truth be told, I was expecting a fold.  A ton of hands missed that flop, including any overs, and he would have to give me credit for something big.  Rather quickly, though, he called.  CRAP.  I couldn't believe what he showed, probably my worst nightmare- QJ of hearts!  Luckily, he didn't have any overs, but he risked the entire tournament on just a flush draw!  I suppose he could have put me on a pair under jacks, giving him pair outs and a slight edge in the hand, but boy oh boy I didn't want to have to dodge hearts for 60,000.  The turn cut his chances in half when the ace of diamonds fell.  At this point I had probably peed in my pants, I don't quite remember, but I was about as stressed as someone can be while sitting on their couch on a Sunday evening.  Somehow, some way, the river was a black king, and I took a freaking monster pot.  With about 1,200 players left, I was up to 27th in chips.  If you had told me I'd be in that spot when I started hours before, I'd have laughed at you, possibly kicked you in the shins for trying to jinx me, then prayed that you weren't messing around.  This was really the point where I went from believing I could win this seat to knowing I could win it.

I was fortunate enough about a dozen hands later to wake up with kings in the small blind after a desperate shortstack had pushed under the gun.  One player with about 40,000 in chips flat-called the 7,000.  I was slightly worried he did that with aces, but figured it was more likely a mid pair or something like AJ.  I pushed on top and he folded instantly, leaving me along with the shortstack who actually had a little something--AT suited.  I was running hot, though, and no ace fell, giving me a nice pot to inch me closer to 100,000.

If I remember correctly, we were down to about 900 players at this point, so I could definitely see the light at the end of the tunnel.  At this point in the tournament, I figured the top chip stacks would be able to bully the table as the shortstacks fought for survival, but I couldn't have been more wrong.  The next four times I raised I got pushed on, and it never made much sense to call.  I had decent hands, but guys were pushing for 20,000 on me--there's no way I'd want to risk that with hands like A9 or KQ.  These hands didn't kill me, but they took a good chunk out of me- knocking me down from about 80,000 to about 60,000.

The blinds continued to inflate without mercy, and I was anything but safe.  At 60,000, I had 30 big blinds, but even less time than that because of the 250 ante every hand.  I decided to play conservatively and try to wait it out, but I could tell it was going to be close.  I took a cool 20,000 when I made a huge reraise with kings, and repeated the feat a few hands later with aces.  I could have gotten more out of them, but I wasn't going to get cute at this stage and let something funky hit.  After that, though, I was cold as cold can be.  I couldn't find a picture card, I couldn't get a pair (except for 4s under the gun, which I folded), and I wasn't going to risk a significant chunk of my stack to steal.  We were within 100 bust-outs of reaching the promised land, and I thought I'd be able to wait it out.  I was about 160th out of 325, so I knew it would be close, but I wasn't going to play anything at this point that wasn't a monster.

With blinds so high, the bust-outs didn't cease.  In no time we were under 300, and not long after that we cracked 275.  Keep in mind that 233 players would receive a seat, and the top 264 were guaranteed their money back.  I was certainly set to get my money back, but screw that!  I had been playing for about nine hours and getting my money back would have been the worst consolation prize of all-time.  It was neck-and-neck on whether or not I could make it by folding, but I didn't have a hand to play anyway, and I would hate my life if I busted at this stage on a pure steal.  Blinds were 1,500-3,000, and the ante of 375 meant that it cost 8,250 per round.

I finally picked up another hand after dwindling down under 50,000.  The guy immediately to my right (who I later found out was Bernard Lee, a pro that made it to the final two tables of the Main Event a couple years ago) raised it up, and I reraised about half my stack with aces.  He folded pretty quickly, yielding a nice pot to get me back over 65,000.

Little did I know, but that was the second-to-last hand I would win in the tournament.  A stretch of 30 hands went by in which I got nothing at all, and I was left to fold and pray that I'd squeak in.  By this time, we were all guaranteed to get our money back, but with only 239 left, and only six eliminations needed to reach the Main Event, I had the unfortunate distinction of being 239th in chips.  At this point, I had a few other tables open to keep an eye on the shortstacks, but it was very apparent that they could wait me out.  I had to win a hand to make the World Series.  The problem was that my stack had shrunk to under 30,000, and the chipleader was raising every hand as everyone else folded their way to the Series.  Blinds were even more prodigious at this point, reaching 3,500-7,000.  With only 20,000 in my stack, I was forced to post the 7,000 big blind.  We still had 239 left, and I was still in last, even before I posted my blind.  I made a decision that as long as I had something even slightly playable, I would go with it as long as I was heads-up.  That was the case when the chipleader once again pushed.  I had knots in my stomach, but with J8, I had to make a stand.  I knew that if I won I was set, and obviously if I lost I was out.  It made me nauseous to think that this hand was worth $12,000, not to mention the fulfillment of such a huge dream.  No guts no glory, though.  I made the call.

I couldn't complain with the matchup.  He tabled Q5 of hearts, a slight favorite over my J8 off.  I wasn't dominated, so there was hope.  The flop quickly dispelled much of that hope, though, as it came K93 with one heart.  "PLEAAAAAAAAAASE," I begged whoever was listening.  "Don't do this to me."  The turn brought a glimmer, a black ten.  I was now open-ended, and pairing my eight would also give me the pot.  Online poker usually deals out quickly, but it seemed that it took forever for this entire thing to play out.  I'm not a big fan of praying at the poker table, but this was no time to hold back.  "Please God let me win this one.  I'm a good person- I deserve this," I said.  Whether it was God, the luck of the draw, or my old friend destiny, I don't care.  All I know is that a beautiful 8 fell on the river, pairing me up, doubling me up, and paving my way to Vegas.  Amazingly, winning this hand allowed me to leapfrog over 65 players, so I was reasonably certain that I was safe at this point.  Still, I didn't want to take any chances.  Pete, through IM, said, "You're going to Vegas.  You're going to the World Series of Poker."  Being the nice guy I am, I said, "Shut up!"  For all I know, I'd accidentally click raise and get my heart broken in truly excruciating fashion.  I was NOT going to count my chickens before they hatched.

I continued to track the shortstacks, and one by one, they busted.  The final two lost simultaneously, leaving the remaining 233 to celebrate their good fortune.  I was a little bit in shock.  Pete sent a flood of incomprehensible messages that were a reasonable facsimile of what was running through my head.  I just looked at Brigid and said, "I'm going to the World Series of Poker," without much emotion at all.  Five days later, I still don't think I can believe it.  I played great for 9.5 hours, and I got lucky one time when it mattered most.  Now there's no looking back.  I'm going to Vegas, and so is Brigid, Pete, my mom, and whoever else wants to celebrate.  I wired the money to the Rio yesterday, booked a flight on JetBlue and a room at Harrah's, and all that's left now is to kick the ass of anybody in my way.  Is it destiny?  I'll let you know in a few weeks.