The Question Is How Fast

I've never been a speeder. Owe it to my first automobile being a late 80s Chevy Sprint, aptly named since it could go dart forward about fifty yards, only to hit a max velocity that could get swallowed up by a John Deere special. That was followed by an '85 Chevy Impala, a lumbering workhorse that caused criminals to duck for cover when I rolled by due to its resemblance to the plainclothes detective car of choice during the period. Once I sold that one, I've been without a four-wheeled mode of transportation for a number of years. Speeding has not been much of a worry.

But maybe it should be. In my poker play, at least. Fire up the engines, I'm taking you for a ride through the $550 Mega Stack at Foxwoods.

"Metaphor's the worst/Are you being driven or do you drive?" -"Art Class", Superchunk.

My day began alongside 644 other dead-eyed hopefuls, including 2002 WSOP champ Robert Varkonyi and his wife Olga. The structure was why I chose to play this particular tournament, having not played anything but small rebuy tournaments for a good while. 20k in chips to start, 50 minute levels, including 75/100 and 100/200 followed by the elusive 100/200 with 25 ante. Just a good structure that allowed for a ton of action and plenty of patient play, something I pride myself on. I determined that it was not going to be a sprint and settled in, knowing that some people wouldn't, that they would get addicted to the big action they have seen/heard/read about and spew chips in efforts to be uber-aggressive. All done while elaborating on the intricacies of poker in a sonorous Massachusetts/Boston/New England accent that never gets old for me because I can picture each pontificator as Cliff Claven. "It's a little known fact..."

Sure enough, about 20 minutes in, the first player busted from the table next to me when his two pair ran into quads. 30 minutes left in the 25/50 level seems like a must-shove with two pair, no? See ya. Not ten minutes later, another yahoo from the same table made a flush on a paired board and guess what? He shoved into quads...against the same player! This guy was now up to over 60k in chips and had his table shaking their heads. "It's a little known fact that a flush is no good on a paired board," the Claven next to me puts out for the table to absorb.

Meanwhile I was having a pretty good level myself, opening pots and hitting flops. Even caught a couple wired pairs and by the first break had chipped up to about 22,500. While not avoiding big pots, I was determined to keep myself out of any kind of crippling danger. Just no need at this early stage, particularly with at least four players that I could target at my table.

"Do not pass me/Just to slow down/I have precision auto." -"Precision Auto" Superchunk

Feeling pretty good about myself, I get a little overeager with some raises and give back my chips from the previous levels and then some but don't panic. And sure enough the predictable guy next to me pays me off when his hand gets into my nut draw but I manage to back into two pair when my flush misses and he makes a terrible call. Good to go, I'm right where I need to be, though my starting hands have begun to cool.

Then things go awry. I flop top pair on a ragged board against a call station in the big blind and decide to make some ground. It's exactly the situation I have been waiting for and he's more than happy to oblige, calling me on the flop and on fourth street. I realize on fifth street that I must have missed a yield sign a ways back and pull up with a check and he checks behind and turns over a full house, made on the turn. I could only laugh, and the low hum of table antennae dipped to a brief silence as we all stared at him and his monster. Checked the river? God bless him.

So I'm a little below my starting stack now but still in fine shape with regard to the blinds. Except that I pick up pocket 8s and my raise is called by the same guy. Nine high flop misses me and he leads and I raise, hoping to take it down right then. Only he calls. We both check the turn and the river and he flops over pocket aces. Again, I can only laugh as this guy fails to even attempt to extract any value while playing from way ahead. Unfortunately, I can't hear my own laughter over his stacking of my chips, as I have now put myself into a semi-short stack situation and need to get on the road to Healthysville asap. Checking the map I see that it's a long way there, approximately 150/300 miles away and getting further. A short time after I check and it's already 200/400 and I've obviously gone down the wrong road.

Luckily, there are shortcuts. I pull a quick U-turn in the big blind when the small blind apologizes for having to raise the unopened pot but apparently doesn't see my 18 wheeler of KK about to run him down. More folding for a good while longer leads me back to the same spot and I need a GPS before I have to make a blind turn. Not quite blind but I decide that Exit J8 suited in the hi-jack in an unopened pot might be my only hope for a cup of coffee and a shot of energy. The big blind looks me up and Holy Johnny Chan, I flop the nut straight, 7,9,10. He checks, I decide to continue since I'm so short there is no point on letting anything get there if he has some sort of KQ hand. He check-Seidels me all in and I of course call. He has 7,9 for two pair and I fade his boat and double. The table, sensing my imminent dominance or demise, is at this moment broken.

-TO BE CONTINUED