Memories - Irish Open Side Event 2007

Since it’s been a pretty quiet month on the poker front as expected, I thought I’d dig out a tournament report from the memory banks.

It had been a long weekend in Easter 2007 - the Irish Open Main Event had come and gone for me (blogged last year), and the 1k side event had been a disaster, when someone shoved on me deep stacked with a flush draw with no fold equity, and hit against my TPTK to leave me crippled. My subsequent reaction to that had left me with my first ever penalty on the rail, as my micro stack dwindled away.

The remaining tournament was the 200 Euro rebuy and was expected to be carnage. The Irish Open attracts a lot of super aggressive young Scandinavians who are not old enough to play in Vegas, but perhaps don’t have the roll to play in the EPT events. The Irish Open, with it’s slightly lower buy in, and prestigious history fits the bill for them perfectly.

Early 2007 was in the middle of my highly expensive divorce (don’t get me started on solicitors fees), so money was a little tight. I apprehensively consulted the cashpoint opposite the Burlington and was delivered the following news ahead of my war with the Scandies. The contents of my current account would allow me just TWO buy ins, as well as a taxi fare to the airport. The hotel bill would have to go on the credit card. I guess it speaks volumes for my early days of bankroll management that I had bought in direct to the Main Event just 4 days earlier in cash, and was now potentially foregoing breakfast to play in a rebuy ;) Anyhow - 2 buy ins it was. I would have to tread carefully.

I arrived at my table to find that my 200 Euro would only get me 2k in chips, and with my fellow table mates being Scandanavian, Irish and Italian, it didn’t figure to be a cautious table. Some of the Scandies had mountains of rebuy chips which was a worry - although I guess this might play into my hands if I could hit some cards.

I didn’t.

My stack dribbled down to 1.5k in chips after about 30 minutes, when I managed to see a cheap flop with 9♠7♠.

The flop arrived 8s6sAh given me an open ended straight flush draw, which I was happy to gamble with against someone elses AJ. I missed and had to take my final rebuy - it seemed entering this tournament on a shoestring was proving a mistake.

I bobbled around on 2k when I finally got a double up.

The small blind Scandinavian crazy man raised to 300 into my big blind. I called him with what was in the following year to become my signature hand, pocket 2s.

Of course I nearly fell off my chair when the flop arrived 2, 4, 2 to give me the flopped quads. Now I just needed to let my Swedish friend do his thing and we were in business.

He bets 400, I call.

He shoves I call. He has King high. I am up to 4k at the break when no more rebuys are to be allowed. However, blinds are now 150-300 so I am still in desperation mode.

Our table is broken, and I get moved to table 1, which will be the final table of the tournament, and hence will never be broken.

After the break, I get a mini card rush. I get Kings twice and Queens once, and since quite a few players are either feeling the pinch of the blinds, or don’t regard my stack as a threat, I get action all three times and suddenly I’m sitting on 20k and about average for the tournament, with 100 players or so remaining.

The key players at my table are Jules Adamson, a Prince Harry look and sound-a-like who is fresh from a deep finish in the Main Event, and Pol Astaniotis, the likable Londoner known as “Evil Elvis” in poker circles. Astaniotis has a full Elvis white jumpsuit on for this tournament, having worn the GI Blues outfit the previous day. He also cashed in the Main Event so was on good form.

Suddenly, myself, Elvis and Prince Harry begin to run over the table in a big way. Our stacks rise to 30k, 40k, 60k. I wish it was a headhunter as we are knocking out players virtually every hand. Adamson announces “shall we have a friendly all-in?” to two victims, calling and hitting two pair with 94off, against the big cards of the shovers. I call a small raise from the big blind with 8♠9♠ and hit both and 8 and a 9 on the flop, and check raise all in to eliminate another player’s pocket Aces.

Seats are opening up on our table every hand. Elvis stands up and bellows to the rest of the floor “Roll up, Roll up! Come and join the table of death!”.

A nervous looking young man arrives at the table and Elvis looks at him and smiles.

“Have you informed your next of kin?”

He departs three hands later, as Elvis flops set over set.

Myself and Elvis have a surreal conversation during the break about the difficulties of using urinals whilst wearing a jumpsuit. Elvis is 5 minutes late back from the break, presumably needing the extra time to wedge himself back in his outfit after a comfort break.

My stack rises to 75k with another knock out and I must be sitting in about 6th place. I start to dream of the 30k first prize on offer.

Suddenly Elvis is gone! He makes the mistake of trying to trap fellow executioner Adamson with Aces, but Adamson flops a set of 9s. Prince Harry now has a MONSTER stack and is clear chip lead.

We are now on the bubble. 31 players remain, 30 get paid and I’m in about 6th spot. I raise 2 hands in a row to take advantage of the tight players waiting for pay day and scoop the huge blinds of 3k/6k with running antes. I notice Adamson looking over at me as if he is thinking of teaching me a lesson with his mountainous stack. What a time this would be to pick up a big hand…

I look down at an Ace, and squeeze out…another Ace. What timing.

I raise to 20k from my 90k stack, same raise as the previous two hands. Adamson insta-shoves for about 150k. A huge overbet but totally correct seeing he knows I can’t call without a huge hand on the bubble.

Obviously I snap his hands off, but with a slightly sick feeling developing in the pit of my stomach.

Adamson has AQ. I am 93% favourite to take a big chip lead in the tournament and severely dent the biggest threat.

The dealer does his thing:

7, T, QUEEN, 2…QUEEN.

Oh my god…I’ve bubbled. I am devastated and turn to leave the table, with only my taxi fare left in my pocket.

Suddenly Adamson does the most gentlemanly thing I have seen at a poker table. He pays me the 600 Euro bubble out of his own pocket. An amazing gesture.

I was still gutted that I missed out on my genuine shot at the 30k first prize, but at least I would be able to get a bite to eat before heading back to Gatwick in the morning. Adamson was to take 3rd I think for a nice payday.