Back in 2003 I wanted to Win the USPC!
Saturday, August 22, 2009 - Phil Hellmuth
Here we go again, one more time I have a ton of chips ($512,000) in the Taj Mahal’s US Poker Open Championship event; this time in year 2003. Major déja vu here, because I had over 50% of the chips in 1997 with three players left, however, I couldn’t close the deal then vs. Ken “Skyhawk” Flaton and Surrindar Sunar.
In fact, in 1997 with $900,000 in chips in play, we had Skyhawk down to $17,000 in chips and all-in with 10-8 vs. my A-2. Skyhawk ended up winning that small pot, and then he came all the way back to win that tournament.
Now, in 2003, I’m at full power (“full power” is the phrase I use to describe my “A game” to the boys), and ready to win this thing. With Toto Leonidas in seat one, Erik Seidel in seat two, and me in seat three, it’s also feeling eerily similar to the $3,000 WSOP no limit Hold’em event in May, where Erik was also in seat two, and I was in seat three. I won that one!
With five players left, Toto opens for $35,000 upfront, and I decide to make it $95,000 more or $130,000 total with my A-K. Toto studies awhile, and then moves all-in for $355,000 more. Immediately, I eliminate A-Q and A-J from the possible hands he could have. I decide that there is no way that Toto would risk fifth place with a weak hand, and therefore I fold my A-K.
I fold it face-up, and now Toto says, “Whew,” and shows me A-Q. I am stunned that he would risk fifth place with one of the worst no limit hands out there. I mutter to myself, “What is this guy doing?” Then I remember some of the really weak hands that he played against me in the past. Toto can be a maniac player (“maniac” means someone who moves in weak a lot—being a maniac isn’t a bad thing to be a lot of times), and I had forgotten that—my mistake.
Even still, I don’t mind this lay down, because I know Toto will give me all of his chips in the next hour or two while making another reckless play. One hour later we are three handed when Toto opens for $55,000 on the button. I look down at Q-Q in the big blind, and decide very quickly to just call. A quick call shows that I’m trying to pretend that I’m strong—I’m selling weakness here.
Perhaps I should have raised him right here right now, and maybe, he moves all-in on me with his Q-J off suit and I bust him—this is the kind of 20-20 hindsight we use when we lose a key pot! In any case, the flop comes down 8h-7s-2h, and I check. Toto bets $70,000, and now I put him on a very weak hand: in my mind, I put him on K-J off suit. So I just call the $70,000.
A lot of players would have just raised Toto here, but I had a sense that Toto was ready to give me all of his chips with nothing, so I just called him. Now the problem card hits, a king comes on fourth street. I check, and now Toto studies for a long time, and bets $200,000. It has happened just like I knew it would, Toto cannot let go of a hand, now I get to bust him—he has Q-J, and I have Q-Q, it’s over for Toto!
Except, I keep thinking of the K-J hand that I put him on in my mind…If he does have a king, then I’m dead. I pride myself on making great reads. I had been making great reads all throughout the three day long tournament, but now I study awhile. I have a sense of dread that I’m supposed to call this hand, but on the other hand, I feel that Toto will give me all of his chips in a better situation soon, if I just wait for it. I fold!
Looking back, I know Toto would bet any pair, including 5-5, 6-6, sevens, eights, 9-9, 10-10, and J-J. I fold face-up, showing the Q-Q, and now Toto shows me Q-J off suit. “OK,” I tell myself, “100% Toto will give me his chips if I just hang in there and remain strong emotionally. Don’t start fretting about a bad lay down, just wait and Toto will move all-in weak one more time.”
30 minutes later, I’m still in there, and lord help them if I get my chips doubled up, because now I have both their plays dialed in, I’m locked, loaded and ready to fire. Now Toto opens on the button for $55,000 and I call him with Q-J off suit in the big blind. The flop is Q-8-7, and I check; Toto shuffles his chips, makes a lot of awkward motions, and finally says, “I’m all-in.”
What? There is only $120,000 in the pot, and he has bet my last $236,000. What the heck is going on here? I know Toto, and I consider all the possibilities: he might have K-Q (this is the only hand I’m worried about): but Toto never bets big with his big hands, he always tries to milk them. Thus, he can’t have a big pair, A-Q or even K-Q; in my mind, he must have A-8.
Toto is starting to look very, very weak as I study him—I think he knows that I have a Q by now, and I think he knows I’m going to call him. He looks like a man that wishes he could take his money back, but now he is committed. Finally, I say, “I call,” and push all of my chips into the middle of the pot. This is the first time all tournament that I am all-in, which is remarkable, and a real source of pride for me.
The crowd cheers wildly as I call, and Toto flips up A-7! Now I smile and think, “Nice call Phil; it looks like Toto will be short on chips if he loses this pot.” Now the cameras are adjusted, the hands announced to the standing room only crowd, and the first card is dealt; it is a 6. OK, the last card is a mere formality now. No way is Toto hitting an A or a 7 here and now—I’m an 8 to 1 favorite at this point.
However, incredibly, the last card is a 7, and the final evidence that I lost the hand, is that Toto is screaming very loudly, “Yes!” And pumping his fists in triumph—I think to myself, “You’re actually proud of that XX##@@ play!” Immediately, I find myself falling backward like someone punched me, and I take four steps back, and literally flop on my backside—on the “payoff stage”–and lie there motionless staring up at nothing, muttering to myself.
Of course, when it hit ESPN in 2004, it did make for very good, dramatic TV! In any case, somehow, someway, I can’t console myself. I walk around, muttering to myself, while they call me to the stage to pay me my $116,000 for third; I’m feeling like I just lost $270,000 (first place was $388,000). I stew, I mutter, I cannot believe Toto got away with it! I’m pissed, I’m sad, I’m inconsolable for awhile. Finally, after making a dramatic jackass of myself, I gather myself and try to recover what little dignity I have left.
Do I deserve to lose to a guy that tried to give me all of his chips three times? What does deserving have to do with it anyway? For that matter, do I deserve to have the ability to make any final table in any tournament on any given day?
I begin to feel guilty that I’m so upset, and acting badly, when deep-down I know I’m blessed as much as anyone. Later that night I finally realize that I am truly blessed, period. It is OK to be bummed out, but I need to control myself much better when I get unlucky in a big hand!
I do like Toto (he’s a really nice guy) and Erik (Erik’s been a great guy for fifteen years), and congrats to them both. Besides, so what if Toto hit a card on me, I should have called him with my Q-Q, and had over one million in chips. If I make that great call, then I believe I would have won. The Q-Q is just another hand I’ll torture myself over for the next ten years…
Tags: Poker Championship, Poker Poker Poker, USPC, WSOP
