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| A friend of mine sat me down before the WSOP and explained to me that busting out of the main event is the worst feeling in poker. It doesn't matter if you're first out or finish second; it's just a horrible feeling. I think he's wrong. Taking a sick beat is worse. OK, so I lost most of my chips to a two-outer. My opponent was gracious about it, and acknowledged that he got very lucky. Once I got over the initial shock and stacked off most of my chips, I just sort of laughed it off and got on with trying to rebuild my stack. Sure, I tossed a few friendly barbs at him. "I'm sure glad the fish & chips are on my right so I can get the chips back." At one point he commented that he didn't think he could handle that beat that gracefully, and I just sort of shrugged. It's part of poker. "But you'd better watch out in parking lots..." I teased. It really didn't bother me. I didn't tilt, I didn't get upset, and I was laughing and joking on the very next hand. Then came the dinner break, and all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks. I just got crucified by an 11:1 shot for most of my stack. I should be one of the chip leaders, and instead I'm nearly to the felt. I felt like curling up into a ball and crying, and at the same time like going out onto Fremont Street and screaming at the top of my lungs. Steve was talking to me during dinner, but I wasn't hearing half of what he said... I was so shell-shocked by the enormity of what had happened that I couldn't focus on the conversation. And then the dinner break was over, and I got back to work. All of a sudden it was OK, and I was back in the groove. My table was tough, though, and my cards utterly failed to cooperate... I eventually got it all-in with JJ and ran into QQ. When I busted out, I felt OK. Yeah, I was disappointed, and yeah, I expected and wanted to do better, but I also felt like I'd played rock-solid poker against the best in the world for several hours, and never made a mistake. I'd accumulated chips, made some very difficult calls, read and manipulated situations over and over, and never blew off chips with dumb moves. Neither of my tables was very easy, but I stood up to them and more than held my own. When I checked my email after busting out, Steve had sent me a message from his cel phone. "I am an idiot. I'm playing video poker." As it turns out, he'd read his opponent's hand perfectly-- Steve had pocket queens, and concluded correctly that his opponent had kings. However, he then ignored his read and put all his chips in, and busted out when his opponent turned over exactly the hand Steve thought he had. I was talking to JP later and JP said, "I don't know which would feel worse-- screwing up and losing or getting sucked out on and losing." I immediately responded that screwing up was way worse. In my case, I knew I'd done everything I could and just got bitten by bad luck. I don't have to go to bed kicking myself for being stupid, and I don't have to replay my fuckup for myself over and over and over. I've come to the conclusion that the worst feeling in poker is to bust out of the main event of the world series on a stupid blunder. | ||||||
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Patti - That sick feeling in the pit of your stomach
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May 20th, 2003
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| I was talking to JP later and JP said, "I don't know which would feel worse-- screwing up and losing or getting sucked out on and losing." I immediately responded that screwing up was way worse. I agree with that wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, I do way too much of the former. You should be proud of yourself for playing well...small consolation though that be right now. | ||||||
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| Au contraire! It's a huge consolation. I did my absolute best. That's all I can ask for. | ||||||
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| I'm glad that you are feeling that. The words only too often ring hollow in the wake of bitterness, but it really is all you can ask for. | ||||||
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| There were 850 people there and half of them are gone. Of the half that are gone, most of them are gone because they made mistakes and of the other half, most of them will be gone because they make mistakes. Consider yourself "in the money" in terms of being gone without making any mistakes. Sure, you don't get any of that fat cash ... shit happens. At least you know that you can go back next year. | ||||||
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| I've had a great time living vicariously through your WSOP experience! I've felt cool by connection. | ||||||
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| From Andy Glazer's WSOP 2003 News Bulletin 28: I'm starting at table 74, seat two, with $32,175, I'm guessing par is 23,000 (Note: the average chip count would be about $21,800), I feel good about how I played except for one hand against Patti Beadles that she played perfectly and I played badly and I got lucky with pocket tens beating pocket kings....I was on meds for the Beadles play but I think the pain was so much that it was keeping me alert and can't really blame that. I think she deserves a real sportsmanship award for the way she took the beat gracefully. At least the guy's humble enough to admit his poor play to the entire poker playing world. | ||||||
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| Yep, that's the hand. Andy was very contrite when it happened, and said that he would have to talk about it honestly in his writing. He got right around 30K from that pot-- 2K x 2 preflop, plus 12.5K x 2 on the flop, plus 300 in blinds = 29.5K, approximately. I find it amusing that at the end of the day, he barely had more than that. | ||||||
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| ...and by the end of Day 2, he was a dead duck. :O) | ||||||
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Patti - That sick feeling in the pit of your stomach
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