EPT MONACO - THURSDAY

After breakfast, Thomas took Johnny and me out for coffee, and snapped some photos of us faking conversation in lovely Monte-Carlo. I did a poor job of hiding my cigarette in the first photo, so Marci had to cover the stogie with her thumb when she showed the picture to the kids, once it posted. I don't smoke in real life, but whenever I am in Europe, I do as the locals do. I always get Chesterfields, since I have a great magazine advertisement of Ronald Reagan addressing cartons of Chesterfields as Christmas gifts, while taking a break from the shoot of HONG KONG. The ad is out of Look Magazine, circa 1950. It was one of the first things I ever bought on ebay, several years ago. I had it framed, and it hangs proudly in my office, next to Gehrig/Ruth, which I purchased at the same time.

I began day two of the tournament with 33,075, a respectable sum. Alex Stevic began the day as chip leader, with 49K. I guess that was some table we were at yesterday. When the reckless American to my left had given all his chips to William's aces, the seat was filled with a PokerStars player named Jeff, whom I had met at the party the night prior. Today, I was again playing at the same table as Jeff, and we were fast becoming pals. I came out bullying, establishing a way-too-much preflop raise amount, just to see if others would follow my lead. I stole some blinds, and my stack began to slowly grow. Martin Wendt was at the table, but not doing much, so I didn't realize at that time what a good player he was. The fellow I was scared of was a German, named Jan Heitmann. He was handsome, and confident, and winning - everything that grates on the inferior. We made some idle table talk, after he began pushing at my blinds. He kept making bets into me, while looking at my chip stack. I playfully told him that he wasn't going to get it. He responded that he knew he wasn't going to get it, unless I gave it to him. I took that as a compliment. I liked Jan. Our table was the second to break up, so I didn't play long with him. We never got into much of a duel together, though he did get lucky a couple of times against Jeff. I told Jan I'd see him at the final table. The next time I saw him, he had a sob story about busting out with aces. When you're really good, that's a common method of elimination.

I got moved to a really tough table. Alex Stevic was to my right. I was happy that there was at least somebody I recognized at the table, though Alex to my right was not the best position for me. I was in seat eight. There was a player in seat five that Alex was admittedly terrified of. I don't know his name, but he had an inscrutable table persona. He was wearing earphones and a ball cap, and he rarely looked up. When it was his turn to act. He never made a move until he thought for awhile, then pulled the trigger in his mind. Then, he either mucked his cards, or pushed in a big stack of chips. It was a fairly tight table. My chip stack had been eroding constantly since my early steals, and I was fortunate enough to sit down to AQ under the gun. I made a big raise, and the table folded around.

Two hands later, I got KK in the small blind. The scary guy raised, and the player after him called the raise. Alex called as well from the button. Well, that was far too many players to allow to see the flop while I'm holding a monster. I made a substantial raise, content to get the money already in the pot. The first two players folded, but Alex made the call. We saw a flop, which came 8QA. Obviously, I was fairly displeased with that flop. I was out of position, so it was up to me to act first. A lot of thoughts went through my mind as I stared at the flop. The first thought was "damn, that's a shitty flop." My next thought was "I can't win unless I bet." The thought that was thinking loudest convinced me that if I make a big bet, then I am representing either AA, QQ, AK, or AQ. Those are really the only hands that I can legitimately have, other than KK, judging by my field-clearing preflop reraise. I fired off a bet of 3000. Alex wasted no time in raising to 7000. I went back to thinking. "I am definitely beat." I thought back to the Alex of day one. Day one Alex would make that raise with AJ or AT or even JJ, just to see where he's at. I've already made two moves indicative of a premium hand - why not try another? I matched Alex's 4000 raise, and I added another 8000, putting a major dent in my stack if this play should backfire. I think I made my case. Alex released his hand, convinced that I had aces. I was tremendously relieved that I made off with this pot. Alex had been so great all day yesterday in telling me what cards he had. I wouldn't tell him what I had. I let him know that I would tell him later in the tournament, but not while we were still at the same table. When Alex got a table change, he thanked the man who brought him that news. He was elated to get out of there. After dinner, I approached him and told him I was ready to discuss the hand. I let him know I had kings, and he complimented me on my play. He had flopped a set of eights, and laid them down to my suspiciously "small" reraise, believing he had gotten out cheaply. Wow, did I dodge a bullet there.

At the second break, I had over 50K with 77 players left. Round three was not good for me. I tried some semibluffs that didn't pan out, and generally played weakly at a strong table, giving back all those chips I had earned from bluffing Alex off his eights. At the end of the third round, I had fallen to 31K with 60 players left. I called my wife during the dinner break, and although I was excited to be among the final 60, my voice conveyed worry that I was on a sinking ship. I was consumed with worry all through dinner, which otherwise was notable for meeting Jeff's lovely fiancee, Kelly. I had studiously avoided alcohol throughout the tournament, but during dinner, I had a few glasses of wine - enough to relax me, but not enough to take me off my game. Jeff was now out of the tournament, as were Johnny and Dana, so my posse grew by two, with Jeff and Kelly joining my cheering section. I didn't actually see much of Johnny, because he was doing well at the side games. He won hundreds of euros at the sit-and-go tournaments, one of which he was against Greg Raymer and Marcel Luske.

I went back to that same tough table for round four. There was only one notable hand. Martin Knape was a tough Swedish player who was pushing in some good-sized raises preflop. A few came on my blinds, which I defended whenever I had a playable hand. Whenever I made the call, he would close his eyes and lean back, as if terribly stressed that someone had entered the pot. I thought this was an act, as I was quite intimidated by him, but in speaking with him later, I learned that he was, in fact, terrified at the thought of playing against me after the flop. I had no idea I was having this effect on anyone - it was flattering. I defended one blind against him with J8. The flop came QT8, all clubs, and my jack was a club. He made a strong bet, and after consideration, I made the call. He sank in his chair at the prospect of needing to fire another round at the turn. The turn was a red nine, which was made to order for my hand. Martin checked, and I played stoneface for half a minute, before pushing in my bet. He folded. He asked me if I had a jack, and I nodded. "Of clubs?" he asked, and I nodded again. He had KQ.

I changed tables right at the beginning of round five. I was up to 47K, but now I was seated at a table that boasted Martin de Knijff in seat five. I was seat eight, and there was a big-stacked Frenchman, Anthony Lellouche, in seat two. I sat down to some good hands from early position, so I played them strong and set up a good table image from the start. It wasn't long before I looked down at AA from second position. I made the standard preflop raise, which chased out everybody but Martin, who called from the big blind. The flop came T93, with two hearts. I decided right then that I was going to take this hand to the river and hope the aces hold up. Martin is a pro, and if I show hesitation, there's a chance he might play back at me, and give me a ton of chips. Sure, he might get lucky on the river, but heads-up, I'll take my chances. Martin fired 4500 at the flop, and I played with my chips a bit before making the call. Why end it here? Let's see what he does at the turn. The turn was a six, putting two diamonds alongside the two hearts. Martin fired 7000. I was ready to make a move. I figured he's got a strong ten or a strong nine, and I need to make him pay a bunch to see the river. Any red card on the river would also put up a potential flush, which is never good to bet into. I raised to 17,000. I wasn't terrified at the notion of going to the river, so I was hoping for a call. I was hoping to convey that I was on a heart flop with two overcards, and I had made the big raise in desperation. He made the call, making for a really nice-sized pot. The river card couldn't have been more beautiful - the two of spades - couldn't possibly have helped him, nor me either. He checked to me, and I bet 10,000. I suppose that was a suspiciously small bet into that pot, and he saved his chips by folding. I'll tell you soon what he folded. I was pretty stoked from extracting 24K from a world-class player.

The very next hand, I got big slick, AK suited, in first position. I made the standard raise of 3000, and Lellouche made it 10K. I was ready to go to town with this hand, even against queens, so when it got back to me, I bumped it to 30K, looking for a duel. He laid it down, and I got his 10K without a flop.

I was sitting around 80K now, and the day was winding down. I felt really good. I laid low for awhile, but still had one monster hand left to play. The player to my right hadn't been part of the action since I sat down. He never played a hand and never said a word, until finally, he saw Lellouche win a showdown with a pair of kings, and he began telling me how good those kings look, and how he would love to see some kings. I commiserated with him, wishing for his sake that he sees kings soon. I then looked at my hand and saw KK. As I was fighting to keep from grinning, the player to my right bet 3000 into the pot, which I answered with a raise to 10K. He came back at me 30K, and as I was pushing all in, I was thinking the poor chap should have chosen his words more carefully. He's about to see kings all right. He was resigned to his fate, even as he met my all in bet. He turned over his queens, and just nodded as I showed my kings. The kings held up, to the tune of around 70K chips, which made me the chip leader, as the day was winding down. For a moment, he thought he had hit the miracle river, as the board came TTJK9. He let out a little cheer when he made his straight on the river, but I had already made a full house the card before.

As I was stacking the chips, the other players at the table were watching in envy. Martin said "you've been getting great cards." and added "have you seen the mark of the beast today?" I was confused at first, then asked "trip sixes?" He was just smiling and nodding at me. I said "yeah, I did hit that earlier today." After a pause, I added "I won with it." Now, in my mind, I was referring to a hand I had gotten hours ago at a different table against Canadian, Ryan Walters. But Martin was convinced that I had hit the turn on that hand against him when I held aces. He must have thought I was terribly smug the way I answered him. It wasn't until after the day's play, that he again mentioned my trip sixes and I clarified that I had aces in that hand. He told me that he was convinced that I had hit the six on the turn and he laid down pocket jacks at the river. I complimented him on the laydown. I had been trying to convey heart draw that missed, but he didn't think that for a moment. It's good to know that I was somewhat deceptive, but still, his ability to lay down an overpair to my mere 10K river bet is mighty impressive.

I finished day two as the chip leader with 147K. I put in a follow-up call to the wife. Her first question was "are you still in?" When I answered "yes, I'm still in," she heard my posse bust up laughing in the background. I added, "but that's not the best part..." Tomorrow we play down to eight. Thirty-eight remain. The money starts at 27. I should be able to coast to the money, and if I don't get crazy, I've got a real good shot at making the top ten. I talked with the kids, who only wanted to know if I was wearing green for St Patrick's Day, and if there were any fun games in my hotel room. I met the posse in Dana's room for a wine-soaked celebration.