Gray-haired poker TRs: Living the WSOP dream

Every incident around you seems to serve as a material for your narrative.

I hope your search for compelling stories didn’t pull you away from the magic of the present.

Hope you enjoyed the moment and didn’t let it slip away.

Build the anticipation, let the excitement reach a fever pitch, drop a few cliffhangers, and sweep us away on this thrilling adventure!

As a former sports writer my greatest strength was as a story teller and collector of a ton of tiny details.

As a former artist (amateur who nonethless had multiple exhibitions) my paintings were known for an explosive use of vibrant colors. My art mentor/teacher once told me that the more an artist grows the more colors he/she sees in the real world that most people don't see. He was absolutely correct.

As a result, I think I go through life seeing tons of stories/details and massive color nuance that most people don't notice. At this point it's just how my brain works on auto pilot.

Fret not, I was very much in the moment throughout my WSOP.

Positively engaging discussion meeting with you!!

WSOP 2026: June 5 (Part 1 of 1)
Errands ... 109 degrees means I once again I fail to check out Fremont Street ... A great meal at Joe’s Seafood ... I am a rail of one for TonySoprano9 during the Big O tournament

Day 2 in Las Vegas. The calm before the storm. No poker today. Cards in the air and chips in the middle for me starting tomorrow.

Today was for errands and a good meal.

The errands were going to the grocery store and then going to the bank to get the rest of my buy-in money. Nothing poetic about that, so I won’t waste any more words on that.

I did run into a problem when I got back to my hotel room, which briefly gave me a sense of déjà vu dread. My safe wouldn’t lock. Going from memory, I had safe problems in my room last year that turned into a real clusterf**k. I texted my Airbnb host, who informed me that I should contact the hotel security and they could fix it. Sure enough, security came to my room in five minutes, he plugged some gizmo into an opening in the safe and, presto, the safe worked. Security Guy is a genius/magician/wizard.

At this point, next on my pre-planned agenda is a trip to Fremont Street. I never got around to going there in past WSOP trips. I had time today, but it was 109 degrees. No thank you.

So I puttered around my hotel room, watched the first half of the NBA Finals Game Two before grabbing a cab for my dinner reservation at Joe’s Seafood (Caesars Palace). This will be my last pre-planned dinner reservation of the trip. All other dinners I’ll wing it based upon my WSOP tournament status (still alive versus busted).

I went to Joe’s Seafood last year at the WSOP, and it was so good that I decided to return again. I remember last year my cab driver dropped me off at the front of the Caesars property and the walk to the restaurant took forever. Tonight I told the cab driver the hotel AND the restaurant, which resulted in me getting dropped off at a different spot that was a 30-second walk to the restaurant.

I start my meal with something different than a year ago, which is the seafood chopped salad. Honestly, on a regular night this could have been my dinner. But tonight is about gluttony. The salad arrives and it was absolutely loaded with king crab, lobster and shrimp. Plus, there must be a dozen additional ingredients besides the lettuce and seafood, which gives it a real zest. Speaking of zesty, the creamy vinaigrette, Louis dressing has real oomph. Put it all together and it is an amazing explosion of taste. I highly recommend it.

Next is my traditional order of stone crabs, which is a trademark dish. The stone crabs are so fresh, you’d swear they just got delivered to the restaurant and were placed straight on my plate. The dipping sauce is fantastic. Again, I highly recommend it.

For dessert I get a piece of banana cream pie, which has sliced bananas, caramel custard, whipped cream and Foster sauce. The Foster sauce overwhelms the rest of the dessert just a little bit too much, but it is still good.

The service, as usual is impeccable. Every time I take my final bite of one of the courses someone immediately removes the plates and seconds later the next dish arrives.

It is a lot of food, which might be surprising given the heavy meal I ate the night before. But I skipped lunch today, so I am good to go for huge meal Take Two.

Unlike the previous night when TJ joined me for dinner, tonight I am flying solo. I entertain myself in two ways: 1) I follow the second half of the NBA Finals game (which is a real nail biter at the end), and 2) I keep checking for updates on how TonySoprano9 is doing in the $1,500 Big O tournament since Pokernews is showing him as having a top 6 chip stack in the early going of the event.

Once my dinner is eaten and paid for, I hatch a plan. I need to walk off all the food I just ate. I decide I will walk from Caesars to the Paris and try to observe TonySoprano9 in action.

This is progress for me. In WSOP 2024 I did as little walking as possible because of leg pain I was having. In WSOP 2025 I again did as little walking as possible because of heel pain I was having. This year I have no ailments. Being pain free is highly underrated at my age.

I make the walk and actually decide to enter the Horseshoe instead of the longer walk to the Paris. I check out the Horseshoe ballroom, and that is 100% Monster Stack. As long as I am at the Horseshoe, I make the short walk to the Events Center almost certain the Big O would not be there. I was right, as the Event Center is overrun by Daily Deepstack events.

I then make my way to the Paris, which is where the Big O is taking place. There are about 185 players remaining when I arrive, 150 will get paid. Bust outs are not happening especially rapidly. I try to give every table a once over from behind the rail, and I cannot find TonySoprano9. I move to another spot, try again and this time I find him. I start taking pictures that I figure he might like either for his Trip Report, his eventual vlogs or just because.

After a while, Tony gets moved right to the table in front of where I am standing. As he is making his walk, I catch his attention and say hi. After a few hands, Tony gets up and walks over to me. I immediately tell him that he does not have to entertain me since he has a tournament to win. He is gracious and says I went to the trouble of saying hello and he wanted to come over. He briefly tells me what had been taking place at his last table (players were going crazy with aggression when it wasn’t warranted, and the variance had taken a bit of a bite out of his stack, although he still seemed pretty healthy). I tell him I have taken some pictures of him that I’ll send to him.

He then goes back to the table, and I realize I can take much better pictures of him now that he is so close to the rail. My phone is running low on charge, but I take pictures until I am running on fumes. Then I send the best of the pictures to Tony before my phone gives out. I continue to watch for a while, but it isn’t thrilling because 1) I have no idea how to play Big O, 2) I couldn’t see the hole cards, 3) it was mostly a ton of folding with the occasional all-in, and 4) Tony was not getting many playable hands. When they were 10 off the money and 35 minutes away from a break, my lower back starts bothering me from all of the standing. It is time to call it a night. Rest up for the start of poker tomorrow.

When Tony is not in a hand, I get his attention and wave goodbye.

I remember those Olympics and what a huge name Heiden was to me/my friends

Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

OK, 2+2 says the missing posts are unrecoverable so I will now repost them.

WSOP 2026 restart in ... 10 ... 9 ... 8 ...

WSOP 2026: June 4 (Part 2 of 3)
I contemplate my 2026 WSOP goals ... Do I aim high? ... Do I aim low? ... Do I am reasonable? ... A memory of training side-by-side a future Olympics legend ... Wisdom from Kurt Vonnegut ... I overdo the goal setting ... I get the goal setting just right

While still flying to Las Vegas, my thoughts turn to the journey I am about to embark upon. As my 2026 WSOP is about to begin, it seems like a time to identify my goal for the two weeks in which I will compete. I could say I want to make a final table, but let’s be real. Playing in huge field events, and only four of them, calling my shot that I want to make a final table seems massively over optimistic. I could say my goal is to run deeper than I’ve gone before, but my previous best is the top 6%. To run that deep I not only have to play my very best but I’ve got to win key flips and avoid coolers. I can’t control the flips. I can’t control coolers. I think if I want to have a reasonable goal or even an aggressive goal, I think it should be to play well, run deep and see what that means. Which is kind of boring.

OK, fine. Gotta do better for the trip report. All that said, what should be my goal? In my first WSOP, the closest I came to making the money was an event where I got very near the money bubble on Day 2 but crashed out of the tournament when my set of queens lost to a set of aces. Brutal cooler. No way to avoid going bust. In my second WSOP, I cashed in an event where I limped into the money with mere crumbs.

Last year I made my deepest WSOP run, making the money with a smallish but playable chip stack. I lasted for quite a while after that, finishing in the top 6%. I finished inside the top 1,000 of an 18,000+ person event.

Obviously, any goal should entail accomplishing something I haven’t done before. That would be finishing top 5% or better. Or it could be two cashes in a single WSOP. But given the fact that I only play in four events (multiple bullets as needed) that are huge field tournaments, either of those goals seems to me like I would be getting over my skis and really overly ambitious. Is it possible? Sure. But it is very far from likely.

I have an idea.

Cashing in one event two years ago was surprising and quite possibly a fluke. Making the money again a year ago made it two straight WSOPs with a cash, which is a streak albeit a very, very short streak.

That brings me to WSOP 2026. If I cash again this year, that would make it three WSOPs in a row.

It brings to mind a line from the movie Major League where the manager, Lou Brown, says, “OK, we won a game yesterday. If we win today, it’s called two in a row. And if we win again tomorrow, it’s called a winning streak.”

Three years of cashing in a row. That’s the goal. Three years straight is a legitimate winning streak. More importantly, I think it means that I belong.

I belong.

I like the way that sounds. Like it a lot. I’d love to be able to say that. Yep, that’s the goal. Make the money a third straight year, and, in my mind, I will have proven that I belong.

That’s my goal. That’s my target.

And here’s the thing. I don’t feel any pressure to achieve the goal. Perhaps that’s because I already feel like I belong. I’m not claiming to be a killer, but I feel in my element. I feel like I can handle whatever I will face. Yep, I feel like I belong. That is really freeing.

As Jonathan Little said in an interview on poker.org, “A lot of people get overly amped up to go play poker. They think that if they lose, they are a failure in life.”

(https://www.poker.org/latest-news/every-...)

I tell myself not to make this mistake.

I’m playing to have fun. But that doesn’t mean I’m averse to succeeding at reaching the goal of three straight WSOPs with a cash. Maybe it’s not a big goal compared to players whose goal is to win a bracelet. But it is a worthy goal for an amateur player whose volume is miniscule compared to what most WSOP players have put in. Yes, I’ve put in more volume the past 12 months than I’ve done before, but it’s still not a ton of volume. I have a career outside of poker, and I play in the WSOP for sheer love of the game.

It’s what makes the WSOP so great. So many people compete at so many different levels with so many different goals.

This takes me back to the summer of 1977. This will get a little convoluted, but bear with me. There will be a point. Eventually. If you’ve been following along you know that I use a lot of words, but you also know I eventually get to the point. Eventually.

During the spring of my freshman year of high school I had dislocated my hip. I was hospitalized for two weeks while morphine was pumped into my body for the pain, and then I was on crutches for the next three months. I got off crutches just as the school year was ending. On my first day off crutches, I went to the high school outdoor track/football field. I made it half way around the quarter-mile track and had to stop. The atrophy was massive. I had a lot of work and training ahead of me that summer to prepare for my sophomore season on the high school cross country team.

I went to overnight sports camp that summer in Wisconsin. On a typical day I would play in three different league games (softball, volleyball, basketball, soccer), play someone in tennis/take a tennis lesson or play in a pickup basketball game during a free period, etc. But I also did something that none of the other campers had on their daily schedule. I had to train for the Fall cross country season. The head counselor would wake me up an hour before Reveille was played to wake up the rest of the camp. I would get up and head for the far fields of the camp where three soccer fields were side-by-side-by-side and I would run lap after lap after lap until I had put in six miles. It was against the rules for me to run off camp grounds, so my only option was to run the same tedious repetition of laps in solitude every single morning when even the birds were probably still silently sleeping.

One early morning, to my surprise, there was someone else out there. It was a guy with massive thighs working out doing strange lunges while dragging something heavy looking that was behind him and tethered to his waist. I ran my laps. He did his peculiar looking lunges and other training that was unrecognizable to me. He was old enough to be a junior or youngish senior counselor, but he wasn’t a counselor. I had no idea who he was. We did not interact. We were two guys committed to putting in the grind in solitude and obscurity.

At lunch that day, Lunge Guy was introduced to the rest of the camp. He was friends with one of the counselors of the camp, was visiting and was in the process of training for the Winter Olympics that were a few years away in an obscure event. His name was given, but it was not a name I recognized. I did not give it a second thought.

Three years later, his name would mean something. His name was Eric Heiden. He would go on to win five gold medals in speed skating in the 1980 Winter Olympics. The greatest single Winter Olympics any athlete had ever had. For a few very early mornings at a summer camp in Wisconsin we shared the same turf. Just the two of us. Putting in the grind while everyone else at the camp was sound asleep. Trying to accomplish very different things. I was coming back from a devastating injury trying to prepare for high school cross country season. An unknown who would remain an unknown. He was preparing for an Olympics that was three years away. An unknown who would become a legend known worldwide.

That is what I think the WSOP is in a nutshell. It is a place where a ton of unknowns on different trajectories (some who’ll remain unknown at one end and some who are on the path to becoming legends at the other end) can all share the same turf. Plus, we get to share the same turf with already known stars. There are a lot, A LOT, of different stories playing out. And for every single player, their individual story matters to them.

For my individual story, I think an anecdote about renowned science fiction writer Kurt Vonnegut spending a month working on an archeological dig when he was 15 years old summarizes what the WSOP is for me (Source: https://www.coleschafer.com/blog/kurt-vo...

“(Vonnegut) once told a story of how he was talking to one of the archeologists one day over lunch and the archeologist was bombarding him with all of the typical get to know you questions ...

“ ‘Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject?’ “

“Vonnegut told the archeologist that while he didn’t play in any sports he was in theater, choir, played violin and piano and used to take art classes.

“The archeologist was impressed.

“ ‘Wow. That’s amazing.’

“To which Vonnegut responded ...

“ ‘Oh no, but I’m not good at ANY of them.’

“And this is where the archeologist said something to Kurt Vonnegut that Vonnegut would later say changed the trajectory of his thinking ...

“(The archeologist said) ‘I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all of these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.’ “

Yes, me playing in WSOPs does make me seem interesting to people. Certainly more interesting than my business life is to people. Hadn’t thought of this. It’s not why I play poker, but I guess I can see that doing outside-the-box things like playing in a WSOP is part of the path to a life well lived.

And then, out of nowhere, a distinctively different thought suddenly pops into my head ...

It’s my time.

I can’t defend this feeling based upon my past results. I can’t really explain this surge in confidence intellectually. It’s not a feeling I’ve ever had before as a poker player. It’s just something I feel. It comes across my mind like a thunderbolt.

It’s my time.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I have lost sight of the bigger picture. I am letting the tail wag the dog. Bad, rppoker, bad! I did not embark on this journey to become a professional poker player. I embarked on this journey to do something cool, to do something I enjoy. Sure, I can work to improve my game, but I cannot, I should not, require results to dictate whether the journey is a success. Famed basketball coach John Wooden used to famously say that “the journey is more important than the final destination.”

The journey is all that matters. Yeah, much better.

Let my 2026 WSOP begin. This is my story ...

WSOP 2026: June 4 (Part 3 of 3)
My plane lands and my non-poker life intrudes ... Unpacking a trip achievement I failed to accomplish one year earlier ... Dinner with TJ Eckleburg12 at Carversteak ... The most decadent dish I’ll eat all trip

My work responsibilities do not cooperate.

My plane lands, and my cell phone blows up.

When I left work at the end of the day yesterday, I was completely caught up. I thought there would be smooth sailing regarding work staying out of the way of my poker trip. Man plans, God laughs.

The first voice mail had to do with my mom. I fill her pill boxes, and as a result when she sees a doctor I go with. Her doctor visit the other day determined she should see a neurologist. For some reason the neurologist’s office called me to make the appointment, which doesn’t work because my mom makes her own appointments. I forwarded Mrs. rppoker the information and asked her to work this out with my mom. Problem solved.

The next voice mail was from the leasing broker I use for a strip center in which a major tenant will be leaving because HQ decided to close their stores in a large chunk of the midwest. The store in my strip center was actually doing well, but it got caught up in the undertow of problems elsewhere for the brand.

The leasing broker has been in promising negotiations with a big-name tenant. If the deal goes through it will be a home run. I figure that is what he is calling about. So I am highly motivated to get back to him. I wait until I get off the plane to try to call him back because of a) the volume of all the other people on the plane talking, and b) I don’t want to have the conversation for the whole world to hear. I get off the plane and call. Voice mail.

I head down to baggage claim. The luggage takes quite a while to arrive, but when it finally starts unloading there is no sign of my suitcase. Next thing I know, the number of people at the carousel is one. Me. Alone. Seriously? I have to deal with a lost suitcase? I head toward the Desk of Unhappiness to report my bag missing, but then I see a section of suitcases sitting out separate from everything else. Then it hits me. I arrived at the airport early, so they sent my suitcase on an earlier flight. I hate when they do that because you never figure it out until after all the bags on your flight get picked up and you are all alone empty-handed. I find my bag. Crisis averted. And there was much relief.

Bag in hand, I start walking toward the car rental bus while trying to call my leasing broker. Once again, voice mail.

I get to the Alamo desk, and the line is mercifully short. I fill out the paperwork, and I start walking toward to car pickup, while once again trying to call the leasing broker. Again, voice mail.

I get my car, drive out of the airport and arrive at the Signature where I am staying. I intentionally chose the flight I did because I knew check-in is 4:00 p.m. and it has not been negotiable in past years when I have stayed at the same hotel. I arrive at 4:15 p.m. Perfect timing. There is no line, and I quickly find myself in my mini suite.

I try one last time to reach my leasing broker and – chime in if you’ve heard this before – voice mail. I leave a message saying I will try to reach him tomorrow.

I then turn my attention to something I failed to accomplish during last year’s WSOP. I never got around to unpacking my suitcase, instead just pulling out clothing each day. I vow that I will act like a grownup this year, and as soon as I start unzipping my suitcase my cell phone rings. It is my leasing broker.

I figure he is simply calling with an update on the leasing negotiations. He is not. He is calling to say that someone has offered to buy the property. The offer is on the low end of acceptable if the soon to be vacant space is unleased. But if we get the big-name tenant we are talking with to the finish line the property will be worth way, way more than the prospective buyer is offering. It is a complicated analysis given there are so many uncertainties. It takes a little over an hour to discuss, but my response is to take the risk of getting the big-name tenant to the finish line.

I am very aware of a fascinating analysis of my willingness to embrace risk and variance. We are talking big numbers. The varying ranges are very different. I do not hesitate. I am fine with it. What is fascinating is that in business I am OK with this, whereas in a $500-$1,500 poker tournament my biggest leak is I do not take enough risk. I guess the difference is that in real estate I possess the strength of a lot of experience, whereas in poker my volume – despite my efforts to put in the time – is still very small.

My leasing agent wants to firm up all of the back of the napkin numbers we just threw around and then get back to me probably sometime next week for further discussion.

The call concludes. I just ate up a bunch of time that wasn’t part of the plan. The suitcase will not get unpacked right now. I have a 9:00 p.m. dinner reservation with TJ Eckleburg12. I want to get my cash deposited in my WSOP account. It’s a little tight, but I think I can still get it done. I grab a cab to the Paris, get to the cage area and there is only one person in line ahead of me. I am back on schedule.

I cab it back to my hotel.

I have enough time to unpack, which I get done. Remember, last year I never got around to unpacking. This year I have unpacked like an adult. Already I have accomplished something I failed to do at last year’s WSOP. Hendon Mob does not acknowledge this achievement.

I try to order a cab through the bar code at the bell stand. It does not work. I ran into the same problem earlier. The bellman has the security gate turn on the light that can hail a cab. This works, although much slower that what I have experienced in past WSOPs when I have stayed at this hotel. The bellman hypothesizes that either the bar code is not working or there has been an influx of more people than usual today. Whatever the reason, I really hope I don’t have to deal with this with regularity the next two weeks.

I get to Resorts World where I have a reservation at Carversteak for TJ and me.

I am early so I wander around for a while. Soon enough, 9:00 rolls around and TJ arrives. We get seated and it feels like we have been close friends for decades. We have all the same interests. College football in particular leading to an SEC (him) versus Big Ten (me) discussion. I immediately concede that prior to the last three seasons, there was nothing to debate. The SEC was king! It’s not even arguable. But the last three seasons the Big Ten has won the national title. Trend or a mere blip? No way to tell. But we do discuss the reason why the Big Ten has won the last three national titles, and we conclude that it seems to be NIL related.

It’s not just college football we discuss. We talk sports beyond football. And then of course there is the poker. We both love to play. We both love to write trip reports. We both love to read other people’s trip reports. We talk on and on about poker.

To be clear, I have no illusions that I am on TJ’s level. He is the far superior player. He is the far more accomplished player. He has a ton more volume than I do. None of that seems to matter. While our poker goals may be very different, our love of the game is the same. What helps the conversation is that TJ is a willing participant in discussing poker concepts at my level. We talk about the importance of a cash to a player like me and how far I should be pushing the envelope near the money bubble. We talk about my aggressiveness in Level 1 when the table is short-handed. We talk about me needing to 3-bet light more often. We talk about all kinds of areas I need to improve. TJ is a great teacher in that he is able to see the game through my eyes, share his experience and do so in a way that I can absorb.

We talk about a whole ton of other stuff. It is that rare first meeting where the conversation never – not for a second – runs out of gas. No uncomfortable pauses where you run out of things to talk about.

I don’t know what my WSOP 2026 has in store for me, but I can already say that tonight’s dinner was and will continue to be a highlight of my trip.

The reason I chose Carversteak months ago for tonight’s dinner (I asked TJ to join me more recently) is a signature dish on the menu. The lobster en croute. It’s a two-pound lobster with a Beef Wellington like pastry shell topped with a creamy Cognac sauce. I gave TJ a sample, and he described it as decadent. That is the perfect word. Actually, in his trip report, he wrote DECADENT. All caps! I think I gained two pounds just looking at it. Gained another two pounds eating it. And my cholesterol, blood pressure and anything else that can be measured probably skyrocketed. I have spent months anticipating this meal and it not only lived up to the hype, it exceeded it.

I have Leon to thank for this. He strongly suggested a couple of years ago that I incorporate more good food into my trips, and I have tried to do so the first two nights of my WSOPs ever since before I get deep into tournament mode where you can’t make dinner reservations ahead of time.

Just a great night. Great conversation. Great food.

WSOP 2026: June 5 (Part 1 of 1)
Errands ... 109 degrees means I once again I fail to check out Fremont Street ... A great meal at Joe’s Seafood ... I am a rail of one for TonySoprano9 during the Big O tournament

Day 2 in Las Vegas. The calm before the storm. No poker today. Cards in the air and chips in the middle for me starting tomorrow.

Today was for errands and a good meal.

The errands were going to the grocery store and then going to the bank to get the rest of my buy-in money. Nothing poetic about that, so I won’t waste any more words on that.

I did run into a problem when I got back to my hotel room, which briefly gave me a sense of déjà vu dread. My safe wouldn’t lock. Going from memory, I had safe problems in my room last year that turned into a real clusterf**k. I texted my Airbnb host, who informed me that I should contact the hotel security and they could fix it. Sure enough, security came to my room in five minutes, he plugged some gizmo into an opening in the safe and, presto, the safe worked. Security Guy is a genius/magician/wizard.

At this point, next on my pre-planned agenda is a trip to Fremont Street. I never got around to going there in past WSOP trips. I had time today, but it was 109 degrees. No thank you.

So I puttered around my hotel room, watched the first half of the NBA Finals Game Two before grabbing a cab for my dinner reservation at Joe’s Seafood (Caesars Palace). This will be my last pre-planned dinner reservation of the trip. All other dinners I’ll wing it based upon my WSOP tournament status (still alive versus busted).

I went to Joe’s Seafood last year at the WSOP, and it was so good that I decided to return again. I remember last year my cab driver dropped me off at the front of the Caesars property and the walk to the restaurant took forever. Tonight I told the cab driver the hotel AND the restaurant, which resulted in me getting dropped off at a different spot that was a 30-second walk to the restaurant.

I start my meal with something different than a year ago, which is the seafood chopped salad. Honestly, on a regular night this could have been my dinner. But tonight is about gluttony. The salad arrives and it was absolutely loaded with king crab, lobster and shrimp. Plus, there must be a dozen additional ingredients besides the lettuce, which gives it a real zest. Speaking of zesty, the creamy vinaigrette, Louis dressing has real oomph. Put it all together and it is an amazing explosion of taste. I highly recommend it.

Next is my traditional order of stone crabs, which is a trademark dish. The stone crabs are so fresh, you’d swear they just got delivered to the restaurant and were placed straight on my plate. The dipping sauce is fantastic. Again, I highly recommend it.

For dessert I get a piece of banana cream pie, which has sliced bananas, caramel custard, whipped cream and Foster sauce. The Foster sauce overwhelms the rest of the dessert just a little bit too much, but it is still good.

The service, as usual is impeccable. Every time I take my final bite of one of the courses someone immediately removes the plates and seconds later the next dish arrives.

It is a lot of food, which might be surprising given the heavy meal I ate the night before. But I skipped lunch today, so I am good to go for huge meal Take Two.

Unlike the previous night when TJ joined me for dinner, tonight I am flying solo. I entertain myself in two ways: 1) I follow the second half of the NBA Finals game (which is a real nail biter at the end), and 2) I keep checking for updates on how TonySoprano9 is doing in the $1,500 Big O tournament since Pokernews is showing him as having a top 6 chip stack in the early going of the event.

Once my dinner is eaten and paid for, I hatch a plan. I need to walk off all the food I just ate. I decide I will walk from Caesars to the Paris and try to observe TonySoprano9 in action.

This is progress for me. In WSOP 2024 I did as little walking as possible because of leg pain I was having. In WSOP 2025 I again did as little walking as possible because of heel pain I was having. This year I have no ailments. Being pain free is highly underrated at my age.

I make the walk and actually decide to enter the Horseshoe instead of the longer walk to the Paris. I check out the Horseshoe ballroom, and that is 100% Monster Stack. As long as I am at the Horseshoe, I make the short walk to the Events Center almost certain the Big O would not be there. I was right, as the Event Center is overrun by Daily Deepstack events.

I then make my way to the Paris, which is where the Big O is taking place. There are about 185 players remaining when I arrive, 150 will get paid. Bust outs are not happening especially rapidly. I try to give every table a once over from behind the rail, and I cannot find TonySoprano9. I move to another spot, try again and this time I find him. I start taking pictures that I figure he might like either for his Trip Report, his eventual vlogs or just because.

After a while, Tony gets moved right to the table in front of where I am standing. As he is making his walk, I catch his attention and say hi. After a few hands, Tony gets up and walks over to me. I immediately tell him that he does not have to entertain me since he has a tournament to win. He is gracious and says I went to the trouble of saying hello and he wanted to come over. He briefly tells me what had been taking place at his last table (players were going crazy with aggression when it wasn’t warranted, and the variance had taken a bit of a bite out of his stack, although he still seemed pretty healthy). I tell him I have taken some pictures of him that I’ll send to him.

He then goes back to the table, and I realize I can take much better pictures of him now that he is so close to the rail. My phone is running low on charge, but I take pictures until I am running on fumes. Then I send the best of the pictures to Tony before my phone gives out. I continue to watch for a while, but it isn’t thrilling because 1) I have no idea how to play Big O, 2) I couldn’t see the hole cards, 3) it was mostly a ton of folding with the occasional all-in, and 4) Tony was not getting many playable hands. When they were 10 off the money and 35 minutes away from a break, my lower back starts bothering me from all of the standing. It is time to call it a night.

When Tony is not in a hand, I get his attention and wave goodbye.

WSOP 2026: Event 18 (June 6): $1,500 Monster Stack, Flight D (Part 1 of 6)
Even dealers have bad beat stories ... I flop a set in the very first hand I play ... My top pair loses to a straight ... Big Red keeps making straights ... Fancy Cap loves betting pre and post flop, but is scared to death of turns and rivers

OK, the time for expensive eating is over. Let’s play some poker. The Monster Stack is a great structure. One hour-long levels along with a 50,000-chip starting stack.

I check my table on my WSOP Live app and see that the player to my immediate right has $300,000 in lifetime earnings according to Hendon Mob. I’m really not going to focus much on things like that, because I don’t think it tells you all that much. I think it’s more important to watch how the people at your table play and build your reads on them.

I will be playing in the Horseshoe Ballroom, and as I’m walking there, three dealers are walking in the other direction, and as we cross paths I hear one of the dealers telling a tale of woe of A-K losing to A-6. Even the dealers tell bad beat stories here.

The starting lineup (my table once we eventually get to nine-handed is as follows):

Seat 1: A guy from Italy who when he has his hoodie on looks like Bill Belichick. For some reason I focus on him being from Italy as opposed to him looking like the football coaching great. I dub him Italian Job after the movie.

Seat 2: A player who is wearing a bright green hoodie. We’ll call him Green Hornet.

Seat 3: A player wearing a shirt with a gazillion frogs on it. He will be Frogs.

Seat 4: A guy wearing a British looking cap. He is Fancy Cap.

Seat 5: He arrives at the table after a couple of levels and when he goes for his driver’s license to show the dealer, he flashes a huge wad of cash. He is Flashy Cash.

Seat 6: The guy who has $300,000 in lifetime earnings per Hendon Mob. He is 300K.

Seat 7: Me.

Seat 8; A big-bodied guy wearing a screaming red hoodie. He is Big Red.

Seat 9: A guy from Switzerland wearing a bright orange hoodie. He is Orange Crush.

Before the start of the tourney, TJ stops by my table to say hello. His table is just a stone’s throw away.

Level 1
100/200/200
50,000 starting chips

And we’re off. In the first orbit I am dealt 3-3. I didn’t write down position, but there is a limp fest, I limp along and four of us decide to play the hand on the cheap. The flop is K-J-3. What a start! A set of 3s. I will be last to act, so perhaps I was the BTN. Whatever. I have a set. Come to Papa! The other players all check. That’s not what I was hoping to see. I bet one-third pot. Surely someone will call such a small bet. It’s a tiny bet everybody, come on into the deep end of the pool. The water temperature is ideal. Everyone folds. Disappointing!

It quickly becomes apparent that Fancy Cap is very aggro. It won’t take much more time to see that he is playing like a lunatic and can have any two cards in any hand he plays.

The tournament is only 10 minutes old when TJ stops by and says he has busted. How is that possible? Well, it’s possible when TJ has A-A, villain has J-J, the money all goes in the middle and villain flops a set of Jacks. Apparently, that is how you play Jacks. I guess. Note to self #1, that is how you win with Jacks (foreshadowing of J-J being tricky/dangerous to play, dun-dun-dun!). Note to self #2, that is not how you actually should play Jacks.

I get dealt A-Q, and I open. Big Red, to my immediate left likes to see lots of pots, and he calls, as does one other player. I flop top pair, and I bet. Big Red calls. The turn gives him a straight, and I go on to lose a fairly substantial pot to him given we are only at 100/200/200. I am down to 44,000 chips.

When I am in the small blinds it folds to me and I have 9-J suited. I can’t read my notes to tell if I bet or simply checked. In any event Big Red and I see a flop that is A-6-2. We both check. The turn is a 9. I’ve made second pair. I bet and Big Red calls. The river is a Queen. I now have third pair. I also believe I am good. I bet again and Big Red calls. I turn over my pair of 9s with a Jack kicker. Big Red turns over a 9 with a worse kicker. I win the pot, and I am pleased with myself that I could go for thin value with third pair in a player dependent situation.

Big Red makes another straight in Level 1, and I tell him he is Mr. Straight.

Still in Level 1, Big Red makes yet another straight. I knew what I was talking about when I said he was Mr. Straight. He wins a big pot against Green Hornet’s set.

I have 9-10 suited on the BTN and call a bet by Fancy Cap. I miss the flop completely and fold after Fancy Cap makes a huge over bet. Fancy Cap making enormous post flop bets will become a regular thing.

End of Level 1: 43,900 chips

Level 2
200/300/300

I am card dead and stay that way the entire level.

Big Red makes another straight, which then improves to a flush. The man is catching cards.

Fancy Cap continues to bomb post flop for 1.2x the size of the pot. It’s driving 300K crazy. I am sure everyone at the table is salivating at the prospect of making a big hand and watching Fancy Cap put out enormous-sized bets

Fancy Cap explains, “I’m a pre flop, post flop player. I don’t like turns and rivers.”

I do not play a single hand the entire 60-minute level. Never got dealt anything even remotely playable.

End of Level 2: 40,700 chips

WSOP 2026: Event 18 (June 6): $1,500 Monster Stack, Flight D (Part 2 of 6)
An Alex Foxen story, but it lacks glamour ... It turns out, all you have to do is ask and ye shall receive ... I tell a poker lie ... 300K tells me what to write in my journal ... Big Red makes a straight for the fifth time

We go on break.

Normally on this break at 12:00 noon, I would eat the lunch I made this morning. But I have a different, more pressing matter to attend to. I need to use the bathroom, and I’m not talking about needing a urinal. There is a lengthy line, and as it is getting closer to my turn I notice that Alex Foxen is a couple places ahead of me, and he too is not looking to use a urinal. Foxen enters one of the bathroom stalls and closes the door. Lo and behold, when it is my turn it is in the stall immediately next to Foxen’s stall. I do not consider this a momentous occasion in the history of this thread. And clearly I was not going to take a picture for the trip report.

Level 3
200/400/400

Before we start back up again, I turn to 300K who has built a pretty good chip stack, and I say, “Do you think you can have some of those good cards you’ve been getting sent my way?”

Ask and ye shall receive. I get a rush of good cards. Wait a minute, all you have to do is ask?

When 300K is in the small blind and I am in the big blind I get dealt A-K. It folds to 300K who bets 1,200. I pop it to 4,000 and 300K calls. The flop is a very nice A-rag-rag. He checks, I bet, he calls. The turn card seems harmless. He checks, I bet and he folds. I am back to an almost starting stack with 47,500 chips. I was shocked to get so much action given that I folded every hand in the one-hour level prior to this level.

I again get dealt A-K. There is a bet, I raise and two people call. The flop is Q-7-2, which misses me completely. It checks to me and I continuation bet since I was the pre-flop aggressor, and my image is that I have hardly played any hands. Both villains fold. Big Red asks if I had A-Q. I just smile. He says he had a good hand. I lie and say I wanted someone to call.

Very soon thereafter I have Ks-Kc UTG. I bet and get two calls. The flop is Ah-Jh-7h. I don’t have a heart. It folds to me. I have none of the flop, but I still have a tight image. I act unimpressed by the scary flop and bet. Both players fold. 300K says to me, “You can write in your journal that I folded an Ace.” Wow! The table is giving me an incredible amount of credit for strength when I am betting.

In conversation, Big Red says he teaches finance to adults in his church, noting that his message is they need to save more and cut down on expenses. I say to him that I imagine that his experiences at the WSOP are not on the curriculum for his class.

Fancy Cap has built a pretty big stack by bombing flop bets that people haven’t been able to call. Also, he loves to show his cards, especially his bluffs. At one point 300K whispered to me that the implosion is coming and he just hopes he has the goods when it does. Fancy Cap is two to my right. Fancy Cap bets pre-flop 1,500, which is almost a 4x open. 300K folds in the big blind. I have A-9 in the big blind and I call. I think this was a mistake on my part. I think I needed to raise. When TJ and I had dinner the other night we discussed (well he talked and I listened) the need to be able to 3-bet light and if necessary fold to a 4-bet. Given the spewiness of my opponent, I think this was a spot to 3-bet. Of course, he is spewy so he very well could have 4-bet if I had raised. In any event, I took the (overly?) cautious route and just called. I completely whiffed the flop. I checked, he bet huge, I folded.

I get dealt 10-10 on the BTN and lose a medium-sized pot to Big Red who is in the small blind. My notes are a bit lacking in detail, but the flop is 9-9-rag. By the river, Big Red’s trips have improved to a full house. 10-10 and J-J are tough hands to navigate (more foreshadowing).

I am dealt 7-7 and I open the betting. The big blind calls. The flop is J-9-3. The big blind checks. The flop is not exactly good for my 7-7, but I was the pre-flop aggressor, so I continuation bet, and he folds.

Big Red makes yet another straight. He already has made five straights. He is, indeed, Mr. Straight exactly as I dubbed him earlier.

End of Level 3: 46,000 chips.

Yes, with your image it would have been awesome with a 3-bet here unless the guy simply doesn't fold to 3-bets. Probably need to make it 7k or something to ensure that he hopefully folds out.

And if you get 4-bet and have to fold; no big deal. All you had was A9o anyway, which does not play well post-flop.

WSOP 2026: Event 18 (June 6): $1,500 Monster Stack, Flight D (Part 3 of 6)
I bluff Big Red off of top pair, top kicker ... I correctly fold 10-10 pre flop ... Italian Job suffers two bad beats, and before storming off he might have put a curse on the dealer ... Fancy Cap keeps showing his bluffs

Level 4
300/500/500

Flashy Cash, who is new to the table, is playing a very, very active and aggressive style.

I get dealt A-K. Frogs opens the betting for 1,200. Flashy Cash calls. I bet 4,500. They both fold.

I raise with A-5 suited from the cutoff. The BTN (Big Red) and the BB both call. The flop is 2-2-2. A case can be made that I should have continuation bet, but I suspect one of them has a small pair, which isn’t going to fold to a bet. I just check. Big Red bets and the BB and I both fold. Big Red claims he had a small pair.

When I am dealt 10-J off suit, 300K opens the betting from the BTN. I call as does Big Red in the big blind. The flop is 8-9-10. First to act, I open the betting with top pair and an open-ended straight draw. Only Big Red calls. The turn changes nothing. I bet again, and Big Red folds, showing me A-10. After the turn card I was a 3-1 dog had we seen a river card, but my tight table image is allowing me to win hands against players who have me beat. While my image is tight pre flop, I have not been tight post flop, but the table has not figured that out yet. I have 52,500 chips and have finally fought my way back above starting stack (barely).

This next hand I’m not sure that I played it correctly, but as played I saved myself a ton of chips. I was dealt 10-10. Again with the 10-10, and as I’ve been saying 10-10 and J-J are tough to play (foreshadowing: Dun, Dun Dun music). Three players limp. A case can definitely be made for a big raise here. Instead, I just call. I really don’t want to play a huge pot with 10-10. Big Red and Orange Crush are still to act. Big Red raises. Orange Crush reraises. The original three limpers all fold. Now I have to make a decision with 10-10. If I only had Big Red’s raise to deal with I tell myself that I think I would call. But faced with Orange Crush’s re-raise, I don’t see any way that it is wise to continue in this hand. I fold. Big Red and Orange Crush proceed to play a huge hand. Big Red had A-K. Orange Crush had K-K. Kings are Ace magnets and sure enough an Ace came on the flop to bail out Big Red.

A big hand takes place on the other end of the table. Frogs has A-K. Italian Job has A-A. All the chips go into the middle pre flop. The run out is a disaster for Italian Job’s A-A as the board is K-2-K-5-10. Italian Job is now low in chips.

The very next hand, Italian Job is all-in with A-Q versus K-Q. Once again Italian Job has his foe dominated. Once again, the deck does not cooperate. There is a King on the flop and Italian Job has been knocked by two successive hands in which he started massively ahead. After the river is shown and Italian Job busts out, he then says two things to the dealer. First, he verrrrrrry sarcastically thanks the dealer. And then he says something in his foreign language that does not sound like a compliment. Then he storms off. Someone at the table says that Italian Job put a curse on the dealer with whatever it was he said in his foreign tongue. The dealer, an Asian woman, seems to have no idea what Italian Job said in English or in Italian.

Meanwhile, Fancy Cap keeps bluffing like a madman, which is fine. But he insists on showing his bluffs, which strikes me as a bad idea. If people are folding to your bluffs, let them think you have it. Instead, Fancy Cap repeatedly shows hands like 4-5 off suit that have no part of the board when he does not have to show his cards. Magicians should never explain their tricks.

End of Level 4: 50,600 chips.

WSOP 2026: Event 18 (June 6): $1,500 Monster Stack, Flight D (Part 3.1 of 6)
The smallest achievement ... I have my own personal Yoda

(A tiny portion of what should have gone at the end of the last post, hence it is Part 3.1 of 6)

We go on break.

I go out to the hallway and eat my salami and cheese sandwich that I made this morning along with some potato chips. The fancy eating portion of the trip is on hold. While eating, I text TJ. He has already informed me that he has busted two bullets today when both times he had A-A and both times it got cracked.

I text: “End of level 4, I have 50,600 chips. I’ve added an epic 600 chips in four hours of play.”

TJ responds: “It’s a patience game, keep playing strong!”

WSOP 2026: Event 18 (June 6): $1,500 Monster Stack, Flight D (Part 4 of 6)
“If I take a chip back will you call?” ... Top set against middle set and then the unthinkable and almost unnoticeable happens

Level 5
300/600/600

Even though I am still at extremely close to a starting stack, I still have 84 big blinds. TJ is right about being patient.

UTG+2 opens. It folds to me. I have A-J off suit. I’m certainly not folding. I mean, if UTG opens maybe/probably A-J is a fold. But versus UTG+2, I don’t see folding. Do I raise? Maybe. But an UTG+2 open still seems strong. I choose the low variance route and just call. The flop is 2-7-8 . UTG+2 bets. I fold. UTG+2 jokingly asks me, “If I take a chip back will you call?” The inference is he had a monster.

A new late reg player joins the table in seat 1. He is wearing an Intel shirt, so we’ll call him Intel.

In a new hand, Frogs limps 600. I have Ad-Jd. Unlike earlier when I had A-J off suit when I faced an UTG+2 open and just called, in this case Frogs has just limped. I size up since he has limped and I raise it to 2,400. Big Red and Frogs both call. The flop is Jc-8c-5c. I have no clubs, but I do have top pair top kicker. I think this is worth betting, although I tell myself not to go crazy if I get raised when a flush might be out there. I bet 4,000 and both Frogs and Big Red fold. I now have 54,700 chips.

I make a note to myself that Big Red loves seeing flops against me, but he seems to consistently fold if I continuation bet after the flop. Admittedly, he seems to like to see a lot of flops against everyone, but I think he especially likes to target me. I think his plan is to call fairly widely against me, and if I show weakness after the flop he is going to be aggressive. But so far I have been showing strength after the flop, and he has been backing down, including when he has had me beat.

Next comes an epic hand I was not a part of, but I watched with fascination. 300K has 6d-6h. He has played well and measured. In this hand he is against spewy Fancy Cap. He has been waiting all day to have the goods against Fancy Cap. The flop is Jd-6c-2d. Surely this is the Jackpot hand for 300K, as he has a set of 6s. All the money goes into the middle with 300K being the player at risk, and Fancy Cap shows Js-Jc for a better set. This is almost too much to accept for 300K, who has been very frustrated dealing with Fancy Cap’s massive post flop bets all day. 300K stands up, gathers his stuff, and once the turn and river are shown he starts to walk away from the table. Big Red calls out to him, “Come back, I think I see something different.” It turns out there were runner-runner diamonds on the turn and river. There are four diamonds on the board. 300K has the 6d. Fancy Cap has no diamonds. 300K won the hand and didn’t even know it.

This reminds me of a scene from the Movie Moneyball (“He hit a home run and didn’t even realize it.”😉

Fancy Cap, who thought he had won the hand, blurts out, “You have got to be f**king kidding me!”

End of Level 5: 52,500 chips

WSOP 2026: Event 18 (June 6): $1,500 Monster Stack, Flight D (Part 5 of 6)
The J-J hand I have been hinting at ... My need to bluff more, so I decide to run a bluff that keeps growing in size ... It ends badly ... A certain small percentage of hyper aggro plays is good versus it’s a punt

Level 6
400/800/800

Even though I have made very little progress from starting stack, I still have 65 big blinds. The structure of this tournament is great.

On the first hand of the level, I am dealt J-J. As I have been writing J-J and 10-10 are tough to play (remember all of the foreshadowing? Well here it is!).

The newish player in seat 1 with the Intel shirt opens the betting. I 3-bet. He just calls. I think this somewhat caps him. Somewhat. The flop comes A-4-2. He bets. I can’t fold just yet and I call. The turn is a 4. He checks. Weakness? Or is he trapping me. I think it is weakness. I bet, he calls. OK, good, he didn’t raise. The river was harmless. He checks. I never make aggressive bluffs like this, but 2+2 friends tell me all the time I need to do it more than I do. I think this is the spot. I go all-in. Intel insta calls and shows me the bad news. A-K. OK, it wasn’t the spot. I’m out.

I just blasted off 65 big blinds with second pair. I am quite certain I screwed up. On the one hand, I just ran a big bluff, which I need to do more often. Just not this big. Is that being results oriented? If it had worked, I would be patting myself on the back.

I text TJ what happened in small detail, and he responds, “It happens. Even if it was a punt, having a certain small percentage of hyper aggro plays is good, even if it doesn’t look good in hindsight.”

I think it was a punt. After five levels of simply treading water, I think I got impatient and overdid it trying to manufacture a stack that would show meaningful progress. I think my aggression was fine to a point, but somewhere along the way I needed to slow down. The table had been consistently folding to my post-flop aggression, which was why I went for it. But at some point I probably needed to read the room and recognize that my opponent in this hand was not buying what I was selling. So I guess it is a small sign of progress that I attempted a big bluff rather than only bet for value. But I still think I botched the hand.

I’d been treading water all day. I got greedy, lost my patience and overplayed second pair.

This was a punt.

In real time I’m not sure where I overcooked the bluff, but it was unnecessary to lose everything. J-J is tough to play. It’s a premium pre flop, but it can be treacherous to play post flop. I got lost on what to do with Jacks, not an uncommon problem, but no reason to blast off like I did.

On the one hand, I almost never (as in never) run a bluff this big. So it’s sort of progress that I tried. I just question whether it was the right spot to try it. I think I got too overconfident at the success rate of my post-flop bluffs in this tournament when I missed flops, and as a result I failed to give up when it probably should have been clear that villain was not going to fold.

To make an omelette, you’ve got to break some eggs. Well, I certainly broke something.

WSOP 2026: Event 18 (June 6): $1,500 Monster Stack, Flight D (Part 6 of 6)
Drinks with TonySoprano9 ... The Golden Knights make Tony’s sports bet unnecessarily stressful ... I almost never drink, so a little bit of alcohol goes a long way

About this time TonySoprano9 texts me saying he had been at the outside of the hockey arena watching the Vegas Golden Knights Stanley Cup home game where a giant jumbotron was set up for fans who didn’t get tickets to the game to be able to watch in a group, boisterous setting. He wrote that he is on his way back to the ParisShoe, and we make plans to meet at a bar on the premises.

Good, I need a diversion from my rehashing of my punt. I leave my hotel room, head downstairs, jump in a cab and head on over. I get to the bar he said he’d be at, but I can’t find him. I text him, and he finds me. This bar, near where the Paris and Horseshoe connect atop some stairs, has too much cigarette smoke, so Tony suggests we walk over to a sportsbook that has a bunch of TV monitors. When we get there I see that the hockey game is still going on. I ask Tony why he left where he was originally watching given that the game is not over and it’s a one-goal game. Tony says the Golden Knights were way up when he left. His sports bet was on Las Vegas, so all seemed well. Until it wasn’t. Apparently, Carolina proceeded to score three quick goals, cutting the score to 4-3.

Now, we watch Carolina tie up the game. This is a disaster.

If Tony is rooting for Las Vegas, I’m rooting for Las Vegas. I tell Tony the story of how when my dad was alive, whenever we’d watch a sporting event together, when the game was about to start he’d always ask me, “Who are we rooting for?” Whoever I was rooting for, my dad was rooting for. I tell Tony that applies to tonight’s game. The good news is Las Vegas scores in overtime and Tony’s sports bet is good as gold.

Tony asks me if I want a drink. He gets four free drink tickets a day from Caesars, which results in me drinking two beers over the several hours we talk. And for those keeping score, two beers for me is -- let me get out my calculator, 1 +1 ... -- two more alcoholic drinks than I’ve had in the past year. I’m not morally opposed to alcohol, but it’s just not a part of my typical lifestyle. I don’t like the taste of any other alcohol. Beer is tolerable to me. I mention to Tony that by me using two of his four free drink vouchers, I am helping him in terms of him being clear-headed tomorrow when he has Day 2 of his Big O tourney.

Besides watching the hockey game, our conversation covers a large swath of topics ranging from poker tournaments, sports betting, life experiences, family, etc. At some point I ask Tony to critique my bust out hand. He thinks my bet sizing was too large and he thinks there was a point where I needed to slow down. He is kind in what he says, but I am pretty certain he thinks it was a punt. I certainly think it was and say as much.

The conversation flows naturally. Even though I am not anywhere near Tony’s level when it comes to poker, we have common interests and that makes for non-stop discussion. Finally, Tony says that he is sure we could talk all night, but there are poker tournaments to be played tomorrow.

We get up to leave and, wow, I am suddenly feeling kind of tipsy. I didn’t feel it at all while sitting down, but as I walk I feel the alcohol kick in. I’m not drunk, but I’m a light weight and a little alcohol goes a long way. Part of the problem I now realize is I never got around to eating dinner tonight so I’ve been drinking on an empty stomach. I went from my poker tourney to working on my trip report rough draft to meeting up with Tony. Hence, I’m feeling the effects of my two beers.

Does this give me a built-in excuse if I play poorly tomorrow?

First of all, if I am not broke & unemployed by this time next year (both things extremely possible), I really should plan a trip around the $1500 Monster Stack. It would be my most expensive tournament ever, but it sounds like a really fun one to play.

---

As played, it's hard to know if you punted without knowing the exact stacks and bet sizes. That said, I do agree with your assessment that he is somewhat capped when he does only call pre (he doesn't have Aces at least). Him leading into you on the flop is certainly unorthodox, but he might have done this to prevent you from checking back hands exactly like the one you have (big pairs below AA).

I think you have a clear call on the flop, and I like that you are betting turn against his strange line. However, when we bet turn and get called I think we have run out of value and need to check back the river. This is a line that is sometimes good to take in spots like this; as it makes it easier to get your hand to showdown (he will check river and you can just check back). If you instead had checked back the turn and he now bets the river. you would be in no-mans land and won't know whether to call or fold.

A good rule of thumb for bluffing is to not take your hands with decent showdown-value and turn those into a bluff. There is simply no need for it, although it's an easy mistake to make.

The only times for this play is if you get the sense that your hand is not good. and have no chance of winning at showdown. But I don't think we can conclude with such certainty in this hand. I still think his weird lead on the flop could be a hand like TT/99 not wanting to face a big bet from you, and thus trying to freeze you, Teddy Monroe ('The Iceman') style. At least from some less studied players, I could see this happen.

I obviously like that you are trying to use your OMC-image, but maybe focus more on doing so in small/medium pots like the A9 you mentioned earlier.

Edit: I think you did a smart move by doing some socializing and unwind after, instead of just being alone and run the bluff through your head a hundred times.

BigWhale, thanks for the insight. I think I am fine with how I played that hand pre flop, post flop and after the turn. My decision on the river was, however, what-was-I-thinking stupid/reckless. There are two hands from my 2026 WSOP that I am really, really, really not proud of. This was one of them. You'll eventually read about the other. From the beginning of this thread I have been committed to total honesty and transparency. That means when I screw up I have to write about it and own up to it. Which, of course, is kind of embarrassing. But if all I did was write about hands where I look like a genius every time, 1) it would not be believable, and 2) it would not be interesting.

My thread is about an amateur player hyper focused on the WSOP in which the ingredients are, 1) love of the game, 2) total honesty, 3) good writing and story telling, 4) having fun, 5) an effort to get better within the framework of having a non-poker career and family commitments that take up my time, and 6) being open to constructive criticism. I think my thread has been well received because of a commitment to each of these tenets. Screwing up is part of the story. Screwing up happens. Screwing up and owning up to it is part of keeping it real.

Given my inexperience and lack of volume, screwing up is to be expected (although hopefully not too often).

I think everyone who follows along does not do so because of an expectation that what I write about showcases perfectly played poker. I think the beauty of the thread is that it describes a journey that is imperfect but interesting and full of joy. Well full of joy until painful, gut-wrenching, poker-is-so-unfair stuff happens (boo hoo, cry me a river, wanna hear my bad beat story).

So again, thanks for taking the time and effort to analyze my play. I've said it before in the thread, and I'll say it again now. I have thick skin and I'm always open to constructive criticism.

I'm not looking to go into deeeeeeep, 25-posts-back-and-forth, discussion of whether I went for solver approved thin value with third pair. I think that would bog down the thread and isn't the type of go-down-a-rabbit-hole discourse that this thread has been about. But the type of analysis you provided above (and have done in the past) is a perfect contribution that is +EV and is a great value add to the thread.

If TJ were an Elf/Baby Yoda, he might be on the taller side.

With a little glow behind his back!

My 2c don’t go broke more than the pot on the J’s bust out. Always better to have an expectation as to how much you will win or willing to lose.

I know this feeling all too well, some hands I just dread writing about because they are so poorly played from my part.

WSOP 2026: Event 25 (June 7), $500 Freezeout NLHE (Part 1 of 7)
A shaky start to the day before the first hand is dealt ... A WSOP employee is drunk with her tiny bit of power, but I find the loophole ... Banished to the Siberia of WSOP poker

My day starts off on the wrong foot.

Something has been wrong with the freezer door in my mini fridge. It doesn’t close right. I told my Airbnb host about it previously and they were supposed to fix it yesterday. But when I wake up I see that the freezer door is still not right, which resulted in a flood on the top row of the fridge section. Not the end of the world. Cleanup on aisle 6.

Then as I am about to leave my hotel room I notice that my cell phone did not charge overnight for some reason. I get to the Paris/Horseshoe and head over to the Horseshoe Ballroom where I suspect the $500 freezeout NLHE tournament will be held. I register for the tournament on the WSOP Live app and it says there is about a 1,000 person wait list ahead of me. This doesn’t mean 1,000 people have to bust before I can play. It means the system has to cycle through that many entries before I will be given my table and seat assignment.

Next on my to do list is I need to charge my phone which is down to about 25%. I see an outlet just ahead of me, but a female WSOP employee stops me. She says only people who need to register at the Horseshoe Ballroom cage can go past her. I explain that my phone is almost out of charge and I just want to go plug it in to the outlet 10 feet away.

She is unmoved by my plight and says, “Only people who need to register can go past this spot.”

I reply, “but the outlet is only 10 feet away.”

She is a one-trick pony and repeats, “Only people who need to register can go past this spot.”

Apparently, this is a line in the sand. Apparently, this is the hill she is prepared to die on.

I start to say, “But ...”

She cuts me off and, drunk on her little bit of power, repeats, “Only people who need to register can go past this spot.”

It takes me a moment, but then the lightbulb goes on for me. Could it really be this simple?

“OK,” I say, “I need to go inside and register.”

She steps aside and lets me pass. Yes, it was that simple.

I go inside the Horseshoe Ballroom, find an outlet along the wall and plug in my phone. Problem solved.

I charge my phone for about 15 minutes when I am finally given my table and seat. It is in the Normandy. Ugh. Banished to the Normandy, the Siberia of WSOP poker. The Normandy has always felt like the minor leagues to me, but it is what it is. I unplug my phone and head out the ballroom door, walk past the WSOP employee who is still protecting her line in the sand with her life, walk down the hall, head through the casino floor, reach the escalator and head up to the Normandy.

When the tournament starts, my table is only 4-handed, but eventually here is the starting lineup:

Seat 1: An OMC who prior to the shuffle up and deal is on the phone with someone from back home. The voice on the other end of the line explains that 90% of OMC’s action has been sold. He only has 10% of himself. We’ll call him “10%.”

Seat 2: Me

Seat 3: A man who is heavy on the arm tattoos and has tons of rings on his fingers. He will be “Rings.” He eventually gets replaced by a man who is wearing a ton of jewelry around his neck that hangs down to his chest. He is “Bling.”

Seat 4: A European man wearing a Kansas City Chiefs sweatshirt. I was going to dub him Mahomes, but his attention is nonstop on his cell phone the entire tournament, so he is “AT&T.”

Seat 5: Last seat filled. Not until level 5. Seat is filled by a guy in a Hard Rock t-shirt. So, he is “Hard Rock.”

Seat 6: A man wearing sunglasses, so he is “Sunglasses.”

Seat 7: A man wearing a New York hat. He is “New York.”

Seat 8: A man from Minnesota. He is “Minnesota.”

Seat 9: A man wearing a Circa hat. He is “Circa.”

TJ stops by to say hi, so he is TJ. His table is a few rows away from mine.

WSOP 2026: Event 25 (June 7), $500 Freezeout NLHE (Part 2 of 7)
I have J-J again, but this time I do not blast away my chips on a bad flop ... Treacherous waters: A-Q versus A-K on an Ace high flop

Level 1
100/100/100
25,000 starting chips

In the first hand I have A-8. I open and get called by Sunglasses. The flop is 9-8-2. I bet and get called. The turn is a Queen. I bet and Sunglasses folds.

Next hand I have A-4. I open the betting and get called. I whiff the flop, but I bet and get the fold.

Shortly thereafter in a blind versus blind battle I have J-7. The flop is A-2-A. It goes check-check. The turn is a King. I bet and get the fold.

I lose a tiny pot when I flop bottom pair, bet and get called. On the turn I check, villain bets and I fold.

I am the most aggressive player at the table early on.

Next, Minnesota limps, I have J-J and raise, and the limper calls. The flop is K-Q-2 and my Jacks shrivel up into tiny balls of nothingness. Minnesota bets and I fold. Unlike yesterday, I do no blast off with Jacks.

It folds to me in the small blind. I have 5-10 suited and I simply complete the blind. AT&T manages to break away from his obsessive observation of his cell phone, and he bets. I fold. He shows K-K.

Next, I get in a hand with 10% who has J-J. He opens for 600, which is strangely large. I have A-J, and I call. The flop is A-K-2. 10% bets, and I call. The turn is a rag. 10% bets, and I call. The river is inconsequential, and it goes check-check. I win the pot.

End of Level 1: 27,000 chips.

Level 2
100/200/200

Rings loses a substantial pot on an As-Ks-Qs flop when he makes top two pair, while 10% flops the flush with 9s-8s.

Warning bells go off in my head when AT&T opens from UTG. He continues to be hyper focused on his phone, so the fact that he opens from UTG is concerning. I have 9-9. I could 3-bet, but like I said warning bells were going off and I just called as did Rings. The flop is 10d-8h-4h. AT&T bets and while I maybe should have called one bet and reassessed after the turn, I had a bad feeling so I folded.

Then came a consequential hand. I had A-Q and I opened the betting. Three players called. The flop was A-10-7. I bet, and only Minnesota (the stickiest player at the table thus far) called. The turn was a King. Given the stickiness of Minnesota I wasn’t willing to concede the aggression to him, and I bet. Minnesota called. The river was a rag. It went check-check. Minnesota turned over the winning hand, which was a slow-played A-K. I am down to 17,700 chips. The good news is I did not go broke.

Rings busts out in this early level when AT&T makes a flush.

End of level 2: 16,600 chips.

Only having 10% of yourself in a five hundo aha to be the ultimate in OMC/down bad. Yikes.