It's been about 100 minutes since I busted from the 2013 WSOP Main Event, roughly 175 players short of the money. It's familiar territory for me. In 2011, 2012, and now 2013, I outlasted over 80% of the field, only to fail to cash. This time it was more like 88%.
I couldn't walk away when it was over. And when I say that I couldn't, I don't mean that I didn't want to, or that I wasn't accepting that I had lost. I mean that I physically couldn't. For the first time in my almost 13 years of playing poker, I actually went into shock after losing. I had to sit down for almost 20 minutes before feeling physically able to do a 7-minute walk back to my room.
But why?
I was never in a dominant position in this event. I never held more than 136,000 chips from a starting stack of 30,000. I was never twice of average at any point of the tournament. I watched players with several times my top chip count bust before the money, and they definitely had a lot bigger letdown than I did. So what was my problem this time?
It's not like I haven't faced disappointment in tournament poker in the past.
I had the brief final table chip lead in both 2005 ($1500 Limit Holdem) and 2013 ($5000 Limit Holdem), but I finished 3rd and 5th, respectively. Was I disappointed? Hell, yeah. But did I go into shock? Did I feel physically ill afterwards? Not at all.
I made it down to the final 88 of the Main Event in 2010, losing a QQ/AK race that would have put me slighty above-average in chips had I won. This was after making the correct read preflop that my 4-betting opponent definitely didn't have AA or KK. The top prize was $9 million, and Pokerstars guaranteed me $1 million more if I won. How did I feel when I busted? I said, "I took this one as far as I could have with the cards I was dealt", and was surprisingly not even a little bit depressed.
I was the stone bubble boy at the $5500 buyin St. Kitts event in 2006, after finishing 4th in it the year before. I remember being angry at myself for getting it in with tens against QQ when I could have easily folded to the money and had plenty of chips left, but I got over it quickly.
In 2012, I lost four straight hands to bubble the $5k Limit event at the WSOP in 19th. I felt awful, but again, there were no physical effects on me -- only mental.
In 2007, I was the "TV bubble boy", finishing 10th in the 2007 $1k NL With Rebuys event at the WSOP. Full Tilt was going to give me $15,000 to wear their patch, guaranteed, plus more if I stayed on TV longer. I remember throwing my cap on the floor in disgust when that ace hit the river to bust me, but after about 15 minutes, I was fine.
In 2006, an almost-crippled Rep Porter put a runner-runner beat on me heads up at the $1500 Limit Shootout Day 2. I would have almost certainly moved on to the 6-handed final table if I won that hand. Instead, he came back to beat me. Again, very disappointing, but my temporary pain was mental and not physical.
Back to the present.
At the 2013 Main Event, I was a great folder. Most people would never brag about being good at folding, as a lot of folding doesn't tend to win you tournaments, but I gave myself more lives in this thing than Felix the Cat. On Day 1, I laid down both QQ (definitely correct) and KK (probably correct) preflop, losing very few chips both times. I made a number of other good laydowns throughout the event that both saved me a lot of chips and prevented outright busting. Earlier in the day, I laid down AK to a 4-bet, and my flustered opponent told of his black aces, and how stupid he felt for reraising. Even in a desperate spot on Day 3, with just 45k in chips and blinds of 1200-2400-400 (M=6), I almost open-shoved a suited ace, only to feel eyeballs on me, realizing my opponents had already looked at their cards and were waiting for my chips. Instead, I mucked it, and three opponents got involved in a big pot. I would have busted there. Instead, I had new life, and a lucky double up shortly thereafter put me back in contention with around 110k. There were countless situations where I saved precious chips in what legitimately turned out to have been very bad spots for me.
About 20 minutes before I busted, an opponent with a big stack inexplicably laid down his AQ preflop in a 3-way hand where I 3-bet with JJ, and the flop came QQ9. The remaining opponent folded the flop. That took me to 136k -- my high of the tournament (but still well below average). While these fortunate chips were the result of my opponent's actions, and not my own, I felt like it was my destiny to cash in this one, or perhaps much more. My very deep-stacked opponent even remarked, "I don't know why I folded the AQ. I just zoned out."
The board showed 828 players remaining, but it could have been even fewer. 648 cashed a minimum of $19,100 or so. Everyone was dropping surprisingly quickly. A few more hours, and I would not only have finally cashed after two consecutive close calls in 2011-12, but done so with very few contested pots won, and a lot of bullets dodged. I was proud of this one. I had taken a 3-day crap sandwich of cards and made the absolute most of them. If ever I had earned a min-cash, it was this time. I lost 19k on a subsequent hand, where again, I believed I made the right river laydown.
A deep-stacked opponent raised to 6k at the 1500-3000-500 level. Another guy called, who apppeard to be very close to me in chips. I looked down to see AcKh. I didn't like it. There was no easy play here. If I raise to something like 20k or 25k (with the intention of folding to a re-raise), what do I do if the AK misses the flop? A convincing continuation bet would almost cripple me. I was afraid that the original raiser would call a raise of 20 or 25k, as he could easily afford it. I considered flatting. But that just seemed too weak at this point with a shortish stack and AK. The deep stacked guy opened a lot pre (I saw him open with 6h8h from early position), and the guy in the middle probably didn't have much. But what if one of them has aces? That would be a freaking disaster of epic proportions. Even kings would be bad news. And even if I get called off with something like TT-QQ, do I really want all of this hard work to come down to an unnecessary race at this point? I almost put out 25k for a raise. Then something took hold of me. "Just put it in... they probably don't have aces. You need chips anyway. Don't force yourself to play this one postflop if you miss. Make them pay now, and get the 21k in the pot if they won't."
"I'm all in", I said, but feeling at the same time like I was making a mistake.
The early raiser -- the one who worried me more -- folded. He definitely would have called off with tens or better, so I thought I had it won. Then came the moment I'll remember forever.
"I call," said the other guy.
I knew what I'd be seeing.
Two red aces flipped over.
The low flop gave me some fleeting hope, with two clubs, but a heart on the turn left me drawing dead.
Then came the torturous exercise of determining whether or not I had actually busted. It was very close.
Both stacks were counted out. I appeared to be just 3k short. I grabbed my stuff to leave, but someone pointed out, "Wait, those stacks are too high!"
Indeed, I had him covered. By 1500.
This was just cruel extra punishment. I know they say you have a chance if you have a chip and a chair, but here I had 1500 in a spot where even 100 times that was considered somewhat short stacked. The odds against me here were beyond astronomical. It was just more pain, as I got it in the next hand with 57o, flopped a gutshot, and finished with 7-high.
Before I left, I quietly asked the guy I lost the 19k the hand before what he had that time. He honestly told me he rivered trips, and in fact claimed he played it badly by letting it get to the river in the first place. Another good laydown on my part, all for naught.
I was ready to do the walk of shame back to my stately room within the Rio.
But I couldn't. Something was wrong.
I took a few steps, and felt dizzy. I felt nauseous. I felt completely drained of energy. I had to sit down. I stumbled over to an empty table, and sat there. About 2 minutes later, I was told I had to leave, as the area had been "secured" (whatever that meant).
I forced myself to stumble out into the hallway. I felt like I could barely take another step, when I saw a chair at a closed vendor booth. I sat down, and wondered what the hell was wrong with me.
Sure, this was disappointing.
Yes, I was a hair away from just raising the AK instead of shoving with it, probably leaving myself with 90k after getting re-raised. Yes, I put 27 long hours of play, dating back to Sunday, and dodged all kinds of bad situations to blow it just before the money. Yes, this was my third consecutive deep non-cash in the Main Event.
But I've had worse moments than this! Much worse! How could this be affecting me so severely?
As I sat at that table, I saw my vision start to blur. I started to feel like I couldn't breathe well. I've never fainted before, but I felt close to doing so. I tried to reason with myself. "Even if you squeaked into a min-cash, you probably weren't going much further," I rationalized. "It's only 19k. You have 19k many, many times over." Didn't work. Symptoms only got worse.
"If you raised and folded, you would have had to win at least one more substantial hand to have made the money," I said in my head. Again, it didn't help.
I tried to picture my son's face, my girlfriend, the rest of my family, the fact that I was one of the few poker pros to hold onto my "boom" winnings. I tried to tell myself that this was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.
It still didn't do a bit of good. I was legitimately in shock -- something that had only happened twice in my life before, and both times were after substantial skiing injuries.
Bad thoughts ran through my head. I remembered that men in their 40s can get heart attacks, even without genetic defects. And this definitely was a super-high level of stress. "What if I can't shake this, and it brings on heart attack?", I thought. "Imagine if that's what happens, all over a failure to cash in the Main Event." I wanted to call someone over for help, but I was still somewhat in denial that I needed it.
Then I felt the sweat. The top of my head got really sweaty all of a sudden, and it started to feel like that was the indiciation that the shock was over. I let a few minutes pass, and eventually I felt strong enough to stand. The disappointment and frustration were still there, but I felt physically normal. I noticed that 20 minutes had passed since I busted.
I walked back to my room, feeling like I just had a wake-up call. I can't ever let this happen again. I'm getting too old to heap this kind of stress upon myself, especially given that I have a son as young as 2.
And when I say "can't let this happen", I don't mean overplaying AK or making any other mistake after 27 hours of good poker. I mean letting tournament poker affect me emotionally the way it does.
Over the years, I have started to take losing in tournaments more personally -- perhaps because I can't simply go back to the cash games and easily win it back. The $5k Limit bubble last year brought on a feeling I really hated. My misplay of aces in the final hand of the 2012 Main brought on nightmares that lasted for months. And now this AK vs. AA hand literally sent me into shock.
I have become too much of a perfectionist. I pat myself on the back for good plays, but then absolutely hate myself when I make a mistake that costs me a better finish. And if I made good plays before that, it frustrates me even more, as I feel like I wasted them.
I'm starting to think I'm no longer cut out for tournament poker.
That AA hand may not have just knocked me out of the 2013 WSOP Main Event. It may have knocked me out of tournament poker for good.