EPT MONACO - FRIDAY

Johnny had begun yesterday as the short stack. He made a valiant run, but ultimately busted out. I had begun the day looking decent, then made an improbable run to the top of the field. Thomas needed our stories for the PokerRoom site, and we could think of no better place than the pool to conduct the interviews. I had gotten no more than four hours sleep, as I found my mind was not interested in shutting down, regardless of the amount of wine I soaked it in. I may not be world-class, but I'd say I'm a fairly good poker player, and now I was sitting on a generous chip count, so visions of glory were dancing on the inside of my forehead, even as I berated myself for losing out on needed sleep.

I began day three with 147,100. Conventional wisdom says to lie low, don't get involved, and ride it out while the field withers away. I guess I'm a bit more of a cowboy, so when I sat down to some decent cards, I came out firing, playing many more hands than the common strategy would suggest I should. I was again seated at the same table as Martin DeKnijff. I was in seat eight; Martin was in seat six. On the very first hand, Martin was first to enter the pot, with a raise from the button. It was my blind, and I'm sure he figured that I would release anything but a premium hand. I looked down at AK, and did what I had to do - reraise. He asked "ace, king, huh?" I answered "yup." He threw his cards away, and I showed him the AK, so he would know I was on the up and up. The next time he was on the button, the scenario played itself out again, only that time I held AQ, and he folded to my reraise. Alex Stevic was holding onto a short stack at a neighboring table, and when he came to inquire on Martin's day, DeKnijff let him know how frustrating it has been so far, since he keeps having to fold AJ.

The biggest scare of the day was put into me by Romain Feriolo from seat three. He raised on my blind, which I defended with K9. The flop came KJ7, all diamonds. I had top pair, with a diamond kicker. I checked, letting him serve the first volley. He pushed in a nice-sized bet, and I answered with a raise. Romain agonized for awhile and finally put in a huge reraise. The action was on me. Romain had come from another table, where he had amassed quite a fortune. His stack rivaled mine. I could misplay this one hand, and watch two days of growth come tumbling down. This was shaping up into a huge hand. I looked at the monitor in the wings, which told me there were 30 players left in the tournament. Wow, I most definitely had to outlast three more players - 30th pays the same as 200th: nothing. I didn't make a move for some time. I actually began thinking I could stall long enough to watch three short stacks exit the tournament. Half a minute later, I realized that was foolish, so in true cowboy fashion, I pushed all my chips towards the middle. I rested my chin on my interlocked fists, and did everything I could to look nonchalant, as Romain agonized over his new dilemma. Now I was hoping that he would stall long enough to allow three players to drop from contention. No such luck. I was really worried. He could have aces, AK, KQ, he could have a set for all I know. The one thing I'm banking on him not having is a made flush. Even if he had three kings, he might fold to my all in re-reraise. I think he was seriously considering calling. He kept looking at his cards, looking at me, shaking his head, staring off into space, shifting in his chair - then, finally, he folded. This was not the last I would hear from Romain Feriolo.

There was a short-stacked Asian-American in seat one, folding every hand. Phil Hellmuth taught me in his book to take advantage of the short stacks on the bubble. Here's a guy riding the straddle between a $15,000 payday and painful elimination. The table folded around to my small blind, and with A9, I figured to be able to safely steal the blinds with a nice raise. The quiet American came back all in, and I was too committed not to play. He turned over AT, making my A9 a huge underdog. I hit a nine on the flop, and another on the river for emphasis. Martin said, "I knew you were going to win that, even before the flop."

The seat was not empty for long. A new player made his way to our table to claim seat one. That seat is blocked by the dealer from seat eight, so I had to lean far forward to get a glimpse of my next victim. In true Sergio Leone fashion, my gaze was greeted by the icy stare of The Great Dane himself, Gus Hansen. The good news is that Gus was sitting on a stack of a mere 20-some-odd thousand, one-tenth of my fortune. The bad news is that it is generally regarded that poker money moves clockwise around the table, and I was sitting to the right of the man whom I consider the best poker player in the world.

I got right to work against Gus. On the first hand, I made a raise from the button with K7d. Gus made the call and the big blind couldn't fold fast enough. The last place on earth a sane person wants to be is playing Texas Hold 'em against Gus Hansen after the flop. The flop came J42, with no diamonds. I had completely missed. Gus stared at the flop for a long time, while he riffled his chips. Finally, he made a bet of 7000. Now, with Gus Hansen, you can't get a read on him - he'll play any two cards at any time, content to read his opponents and take them out without mercy with strong, aggressive play after the flop, if he thinks you missed it. Since I was first in the pot before the flop, I was willing to believe that Gus would not be playing a four or deuce, so the only question was whether or not he was holding a jack. Conversely, he's got to be thinking that chances are high that I completely missed the flop, and he can take down the pot by betting into me. So the question was, did he hold a jack? And if not, could he be persuaded that I do? Any player not drunk with power, as was I, would have folded instantly to that bet. Sitting on my 200K stack, I was willing to pay for a story to tell my friends. I grabbed a stack of 17K, and considered whether or not I would show my cards after Gus folded. Before I made my official move, Gus started talking, "looks like you're definitely going to fold." Hmm, the old acting weak-as-strong bit. He's goading me to raise, which means he wants a raise, which means he has a jack. But he was so obviously weak-as-strong, he knows he's not fooling me, so maybe he really is weak and wants me to interpret his weak-as-strong comment as an act, meaning he really is weak. Suddenly, I was Vizzini, and Gus was immune to iocane powder. I didn't know what to do. Gus was making exaggerated fold motions, as if he couldn't wait for the first opportunity to fold. That is more weak-as-strong, but so cartoonishly presented that I had no idea on what level he is playing the part. I decided to go with my original intent and make the raise. Gus looked down at his chips and told the dealer, "I have about 20 left." He was going all-in over the top of me. Now, I was so invested in the pot, that mathematically, I should have made the call, but I was so flustered, and embarrassed, that I mucked my cards without hesitation. So there is my story, which cost me only twenty grand.

Martin Knape sunk so deep into his chair upon my fold, that I thought he was going to hide under the table. I told him I was simply giving Gus a little ammo to keep things interesting. Both Martin Knape and Martin DeKnijff said in unison, "that's enough ammo." If there was a Swedish Martin Mafia, I would not have survived the round. Gus loosened up and amassed a fortune at our table. He must have made 100K, which all began with the gift from me. He was making strong bets, announcing them by "rainbow," rather than numerical value. He would bet three chips of each color whenever he entered a pot, and say "rainbow." Once, he bet four of each color, announcing "big rainbow." He was reraised out of that pot, and officially retired rainbow's big brother.

Ryan Walters was in seat seven, and was stressing about making the money. Martin DeKnijff kept reassuring him that he would get there. Martin was a real pleasure to play with. He is a swell guy. When the field was reduced to 27, a cheer let loose in the room, and Martin's first thought was to congratulate Ryan. Ryan in turn thanked me, since I had the opportunity to take him out the day before when I flopped a set of sixes. I took it easy on him, and made only bets I was sure he'd call. A king had flopped with my six, and he held AK, so in hindsight, it could easily have become an all-in battle, but I was content to get several thousand from him and send him on his way. It's good to see that he made the money. He went all-in and lost the next hand, taking 27th place.

When the field was reduced to 24 players, we redrew seats. For the first time, I drew the featured table. I was about to make my televised poker debut. I was in seat four. To my right was English gentleman, Julian Gardner; to his right, Martin Wendt; to my left, Alex Stevic, and in seat eight, another familiar face from day one, Kevin O'Connell. I was wearing my imposing shades that I had adopted on day two. I looked like a cartoon character, but I couldn't forsake them now, after getting me this far. Julian was wearing shades as well, so that was comforting. My large stack was still enabling me to steal some blinds, and play aggressively. I was hyperaware that I didn't want to make any moves that I would later regret, once my play hit the airwaves. Julian was barely playing, and I commented that he was being awfully quiet. He told me that the game is so different now than it was a few years ago, that he has tightened up considerably. I became the thing that Gardner hates to see, when he entered the pot from early position with a raise, and I went all in, over the top of him, with a pair of tens, ready to gamble. He folded. The next hand, I made a big raise to 20K from first position with AT suited, on Julian's blind, hoping it would fold around. Julian defended his blind, which told me he had something pretty strong. The flop came 832, or some such nonsense, and it was fairly evident that we both had missed it. I had position on Julian, so when he checked, I made a 20K bet, and he was forced to fold. Unless he had KQ, I'm guessing his hand was better than mine, so I'm looking forward to getting that one on DVD.

Another time, I made a raise from early position with A9 suited. It folded around to Kevin O'Connell, who looked at his cards, thought for a moment, then went all in. Kevin from Manchester, as the announcer called him, was on the short stack at the table. I didn't love my cards, but noting his hesitation before going all in, I figured that his hand couldn't be better than mine, because anything better would have been a no-brainer all-in from the short stack. So, Kevin from L.A. made the call, with the cameras rolling, and was relieved to see that the other Kevin was also playing A9. My suited advantage nearly made the difference, as I four-flushed the flop, but it was not to be, so we simply chopped the blinds and antes. On the next hand, Kevin again went all in, but lost to Martin Wendt.

When the field was reduced to 16 players, we again redrew seats. Julian kept his spot, and I moved from his left to his right. Martin Wendt slid over a spot to seat one. Gus Hansen joined the featured table, in seat six. On my first big blind, Gus put in a monster preflop raise, and it folded around to me. I looked down at a pair of sevens. His raise was too much to simply call, so for a moment, I thought about coming back with a reraise. I would have been inviting trouble if Gus came back with a re-reraise, so really, my only play was to reraise all-in or get off the hand. I opted to fold. On my next big blind, the scenario played itself out again. Gus was in for a big raise, and it came around to me. I couldn't help but to notice the trend. I didn't fancy the idea of being anybody's blind bitch, so when I looked down at a pair of fives, I went all in with them. Gus started murmuring, "I guess you've got a pretty good hand" and other things that I couldn't make out. I was completely at ease, because even though I might double up The Great Dane, at least I wouldn't have to play him after the flop. He laid it down, and I made some comments which sounded better in my head. I tried to compliment Gus by telling him that I'd rather be all in for a showdown than play him after the flop. I have no doubt that the comments I made out loud were more akin to "get used to it" as if I was announcing a new sheriff in town.

I got creative and called from early position with 87 suited. I had nearly forgotten that calling was a legitimate option, since the first player to enter a pot in this tournament nearly always did so with a raise. Both of the blinds played the hand; the big blind was an Iraqi-Frenchman named Abdulaziz Abdulaziz, a lad so nice, his mum named him twice. Abdulaziz is a 19-yr-old student. He was sitting on a short stack, doing nothing more than folding his hands and listening to his first-generation iPod. I was watching him when the flop came 92A. His head barely moved, but his eyes darted over to my side of the table at light speed. Instantly, I knew he had hit the nine. I could have bet, but there's no telling what the short-stack was going to do, after catching a piece of the flop. Since I hadn't raised preflop, it would be hard to represent ace now, so I checked the hand to the river. An eight came on the river, but there was no sense betting into Abdulaziz at that point. I let him take the pot with his weak nine, and I noted that even in the late stages of a major tournament, there are still tells to be gleaned from one's opponents, which can help make or save money.

The only other hand in which I was involved with Abdulaziz was when he, Gus, and I took a flop. Abdulaziz had raised preflop, and I had called with AJ. Gus overcalled, and the flop came xQJ. Abdulaziz immediately went all in. I asked for a chip count and put a lot of consideration into what hands he could be holding that would enable him to confidently go all in after raising preflop. I supposed that I was either beat with AQ or QJ, or I was about to be beat with AK or KT, so I folded. Gus folded, but not before asking the dealer if he could call with my hand. I guess I had Gus beat, but Abdulaziz had AQ, so I made a good laydown.

Soon after, Gus doubled up Abdulaziz, when Gus' preflop raise was met with an all-in reraise. Gus matched the bet with 98 suited, but although he had two live cards, Abdulaziz had two higher clubs, and they held up. Soon after, Gus was reraised again, this time by Martin Wendt. Gus murmured something about somebody eventually waking up with tens, and he went all in with jacks. Martin showed AK, and hit the flop, knocking Gus out of the tournament in 16th place.

At the end of level four, the television production crew closed down the featured table, just as they had done the previous two days of the tournament. We moved to a different table for level five, and the handheld camera showed up whenever there was excitement. The action was fast and furious at the commencement of level five. Within five hands, we had three all-in battles, with the underdog taking all three. One of them came when I had QQ and raised from early position, only to find Finnish poker guru, Jani Sointula, come over the top all in. He was short-stacked and was playing A9 suited. My queens looked good, but he flopped a four flush, and hit the river to double up.

Julian Gardner was still to my left. He made a raise, which was met by a reraise by Abdulaziz. Julian took his jacks all in, only to be facing aces. Severely crippled, Julian went all in the next hand, and managed an upset to double up. The following hand, he went all in on my big blind, and I called with A5. He had 43, which was about the best hand he could show me. The flop came 453, and it looked like Julian was going to double up again. The turn brought an ace, which put me back in the lead. Julian was chanting for a two to come on the river, although I'm sure he would rather have seen a four or three. He got none of those, and graciously shook my hand on his way out in 15th place.

We were playing down to eight players, no matter how long it took. I was getting exhausted, and soon, I made my first outright questionable move of the tournament. Martin Wendt put in a 30K raise from first position. This guy shows nothing but quality cards, so I knew he had something, but although I had seen him put in numerous 20K raises, this one seemed especially large, as if he was vulnerable this time. I looked down at KQ suited, in second position, and I talked myself into believing that Martin must be holding a pair of jacks or tens. His raise was a bit much to call, and I couldn't reraise without the prospect of being re-reraised, so I decided to be the aggressor and put him to the choice. I pushed in my entire stack, hoping to come away with his 30K, or worst case, a coin flip if he should call. The absolute worst case, getting knocked out of the tournament, still meant about $26K consolation for 14th place - not a bad return on my $42 investment. I was nervous, as I always am when I am all in. I got out of my chair to stand as I awaited Martin's decision. He looked up at me and said "you look pretty confident." I responded "I'm ready to get some chips or get some sleep." He called and showed AK. It was not looking good for me, but the flop brought three hearts, and I had made my flush right out of the gate. Martin was furious for taking the bad beat of his life. I was jubilant, and couldn't hide it. I turned away from the table and did the arm pump that Kirk Gibson made famous in the 1988 World Series. I turned back to the table and made some googly eyes at the camera, before full realization came to me that a great player was suffering nearby. I regret my showboating, but I'm sure the camera crew loved it. I felt bad for Martin, who made a great call and got terribly unlucky. He was letting loose with some foul language that I thankfully could not understand.

Martin had 8K left after that hand, and I had over half a million. Martin got some back when he flushed up against my QQ, reminiscent of Jani, but he was gone soon after, in 14th place. He gave me the obligatory handshake that Lou Gehrig used to offer Babe Ruth when Ruth crossed home plate - kind of looking the other way. Later, I approached a calmer Martin Wendt in the bar to discuss the hand. I explained to him that I considered him such a great player, that I was sure he would fold to my all-in. He told me that we have played enough together that I should have known he had a monster hand, and conversely, after two days of playing together, he has seen me all-in several times, but had never seen me leave my chair. That told him that I was vulnerable, so that is why he called. Good read; good call; bad result.

So, now I was regarded as some kind of wild card at the table, capable of anything. Nobody could understand what I was doing still playing pots, but I just kept firing whenever I thought I had the advantage. Soon after knocking off Martin Wendt, I raised to 15K from early position, and Martin Knape called. The flop came A32 with two hearts. I bet 20K into Martin, and he responded all in, which I called. He showed AT and I showed AK. Martin wasted no time in gathering his things as the cards were still falling. When it was settled, he offered a legitimate handshake as he left the table. Jani complimented me at the break for playing the hand perfectly. It looked like I was simply splashing chips at the pot, playing the bully.

I tried to see a cheap flop with 66, but when Jani moved all in with his 76K, that took the gamble out of me real quick, and I folded. I raised with QQ, and was re-raised all in by Ben Grundy from the big blind. I had to play the queens, but he showed kings to double up. Two players got knocked out at the other table, bringing the field down to ten, who were combined into one final table. We redrew seats, and I got seat five. Isabelle Mercier was seated to my left, which was delightful, as she smelled much better than anyone else at the table. She would prove to be short-lived, however, losing the first hand with AJ, when Romain Feriolo sucked out with AT by catching running clubs to make a flush.

The nine of us played for quite some time. I doubled up Jani when I called his all-in with AQ. It was a questionable call, but I figured he was short-stacked and willing to gamble a little. He had QQ and managed to double up with it. I began to worry that I wasn't playing tight enough. My one-time half-a-million euro empire was crumbling. Then came the defining misplayed hand of the tournament for me, and the reason I didn't coast to the day four final table with the chip lead. Romain came on strong from first position with a raise to 20K. I re-raised him to 50K on the strength of my pair of kings. The decision came back to Romain, who was visibly tortured. For several minutes, he agonized over the decision. Having just read Mike Caro's book of poker tells, I became quite certain that Romain was sitting on aces, and was putting on a performance for the ages. If he came back all in after all that showboating, I was going to lay down the kings, just to be safe, since my luck seemed to be souring. The last thing I wanted was to flame out in 9th place and miss the final table, and televised infamy. I began to hope very strenuously that he would fold. Instead, he did something that I never saw coming - he called. I didn't know what to make of that, as I had eliminated that play from his possible options, regardless of what he was holding.

The flop came jack high, and again Romain agonized for awhile, before reluctantly pushing in 75K. Now, that was far and away the biggest bet that I had seen at this table - not exactly a bet designed to induce a call. If I was going to play, I had to go all in. I still thought that he had aces. I gave him credit for being a world-class player. It was only later that I learned that he is just a fantastically rich guy who is playing poker because it is the new big thing. I thought that my preflop reraise gave away my hand as either KK or QQ, and knowing that it would become an all-in battle, he wished to see me miss the flop before pushing his chips in. When he pushed in 75K, I assumed he felt extremely safe with that flop. I laid down my kings and showed them, knowing that I would be making the laydown of a lifetime when he showed his aces. When he saw my kings, Romain's eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he eagerly showed his hand - KQ - a stone cold bluff. Nobody could believe it. In my mind, I was giving up my 50K for a chance to live on, but now, it was evident that I missed a major opportunity to win at least 125K of Romain's stack. Rob Hollink said, with his Dutch accent, "I never make that laydown. If it happens that I finish ninth instead of first, because my kings were facing aces, then that is the way it is going to be." Sage words that I wish were in my head before, not after, I made the laydown.

Folding the kings was my biggest error of the tourney, but it would not be my final error. When I raised with AQ, Jani came over the top of me all in. It was a 40K call, which I could have saved, but I thought there was a chance my hand was good. It wasn't - he had QQ. Luckily, those chips were on a string, as I would be pulling them back to me soon after. I raised with QQ and again, Jani moved all in, but this time he had AJ and my ladies held up. A cheer was let loose as the elimination of Jani in 9th place meant the end of day three.