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I really would have liked telling
this story in one single column, but
I don’t think it would have been
right to tell Barry Shulman that he
needed to allow me 10 extra pages
for my column! So, I decided to
break it down into three parts, also
realizing that it would be easier to
read that way.
Briefly, here’s what you missed if
you missed Part I and Part II. I
went to Vegas with little dough
again, and chopped up a satellite
with Todd Brunson and Mike Matusow
after a 40-hour session of playing
poker. The next day in the pot-limit
Texas holdem tournament, my first
World Series of Poker event ever, I
was looking to get some experience
playing with the best, and arrived
at the table from hell. I quickly
changed my tune about wanting to
play with the best players. I got
lucky, played about as well as I
could at the time, and made it to
the final table.
OK, now that that’s out of the way,
let’s get to the details. This is
how the 1998 $2,000 buy-in pot-limit
Texas holdem final table looked:
Seat No. 1: Lee Markholt, $15,000;
Tacoma, Washington
Seat No. 2: Pouya Pouyamajd,
$37,000; Neu-Isenburg, Germany
Seat No. 3: John Morgan, $43,000;
Wolverhampton, England
Seat No. 4: Chris “Jesus” Ferguson,
$67,500; Pacific Palisades,
California
Seat No. 5: Dolph Arnold, $69,000;
Houston, Texas
Seat No. 6: Dan Heimiller, $27,000;
Las Vegas, Nevada
Seat No. 7: Daniel Negreanu,
$73,500; Toronto, Canada
Seat No. 8: Myron Rosenbaum,
$37,500; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Seat No. 9: Dominic Bourke, $88,500;
London, England
So, as you can see, I came to the
final table second in chips behind
Dominic Bourke the chip leader. I
knew very little about Dominic, but
my friend Rob Gingras had played a
lot with him and warned me that he
was a tricky player, and very tough.
Rob proved to be right on the money
with his description.
I had position on Dan Heimiller, as
well as a little more knowledge as
to what I could expect from him, but
he was eliminated right away when
his pocket fives couldn’t outrun
aces.
Somehow, things just weren’t
clicking for me early on. I played
very few hands, and whenever I did
play a hand, I got reraised and
couldn’t call.
Then, I caught a break after my
stack had fallen to about $23,000
after not winning a pot for a while.
Everybody folded to me on the
button, and I picked up two kings. I
made it $5,000 and Dominic, the
aggressive chip leader, moved me all
in with the K 8. Luckily for me, my
kings held up.
Shortly thereafter, it was my turn
to take on a short stack in Lee
Markholt. Lee moved all in and I
happily called him with those same
two kings. I flopped a set, and Lee
was out.
Now, even though I had beaten
Dominic with the two kings, he was
the player I feared most. He was
playing great — aggressively, but
not like a maniac. Every move he
made seemed to make sense, and the
other players were having trouble
figuring him out, as was I.
It had taken more than four hours to
get down to the final three players.
By that time, I was the chip leader,
with Dominic a close second and
Myron Rosenbaum short-stacked in
third place. Myron finally made his
last stand, and Dominic and I both
called and checked the hand down.
Thanks to the free cards, I hit a
miracle runner-runner straight and
Myron missed his open-end straight
draw.
So, there I was heads up at the WSOP;
how the hell did that happen? A day
earlier, I was praying that I would
make a flush when I was all in for
my last $100, and now I was
guaranteed at least $87,000. I’d
never even seen that much money at
that point in my life. The whole
experience was mind-boggling for me,
to say the least. Win or lose, I
felt like a winner.
Sweating me all the way that day
were Jennifer Harman, Greg Pappas,
and David Feder. You should know who
Jennifer and Greg are by now from
previous columns, and David was
another friend I’d met in L.A.
earlier in the year. He is also a
great player and another good guy.
It was nice to have them there for
moral support, as I really didn’t
know too many people in Vegas at
that time. I knew Jennifer because
she had beaten me out of all of my
money earlier in the year at the
Rio. We actually became very good
friends after that, though; I guess
she felt sorry for me — kidding, of
course. She is a great person and I
learned a lot from her by watching
her play and from her giving me
advice on certain things — from
poker to life.
Greg Pappas? He was probably one of
the only friends I met that year who
didn’t want to borrow money from me!
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, back
to the action. I was heads up with
the guy I had hoped would go broke
every hand he played — not because I
didn’t like him, but because he was
playing fabulous poker and I wanted
him out!
When we got heads up, I started with
$293,000 to his $165,000. Slowly but
surely, though, Dominic chipped away
at me. He stole more pots and got
away from me when I had a hand. It
really didn’t look good, and the
little voice of fear in my head kept
saying, ”You can’t beat this guy, he
knows what you have all the time.
When you bluff, he calls; when he
bluffs, you fold. Just shove it all
in and let’s get out of here.” That
little voice hadn’t helped me up to
that point, so I decided that I
wasn’t going to listen to it
anymore. Dominic was raising, and I
was calling. Dominic was betting,
and I was folding. What a pushover I
must have been!
Finally, Dominic pulled exactly even
with me; we each had $229,000.
Dominic made it $12,000 to go on the
button. I looked down at the A Q and
decided to reraise. I couldn’t just
keep calling and “hope” to flop a
pair. I reraised the pot, another
$36,000. Dominic called.
The flop came perfect for me, Q J 3.
I had flopped what I had wanted to
flop and decided to take the pot
right there. I bet the pot,
$108,000. Dominic quickly pushed his
whole stack in and said, ”OK, Danny,
let’s play.” I think that’s what he
said; it’s a little fuzzy now, but
it was something like that.
So, he had raised me $47,000. At
that point, I thought I was beat,
but how could I fold? With only
$47,000 left, I’d be doomed, so I
felt forced to call and look at his
set or whatever he had.
Dominic turned over the J 10 for a
pair of jacks and a flush draw. Wow,
I still had the best hand, but he
had a ton of outs to win the hand. I
found out later that, in fact, I
didn’t have the best hand, as
Dominic’s hand was a small favorite
after the flop (about 50.72 percent
or 1.03-to-1).
So, basically, it all came down to a
coin flip. If I won, I got $170,000
and a bracelet in my first attempt;
if I lost, I got $87,000 and could
actually play $20-$40 with an
adequate bankroll, for once!
Either way, it wouldn’t be the end
of the world. The way Dominic was
playing, and the fact that I’d never
played pot-limit Texas holdem until
the day before, made the situation
even more favorable for me. I just
wasn’t going to beat Dominic that
day without getting lucky.
The turn brought the 5. The crowd
roared, as they weren’t sure if it
was a club or a spade. The river
brought another black card, a 6 this
time.
I was in such a daze at that point
that I couldn’t tell if it was a
club or a spade — I really couldn’t.
I knew, though, when I looked over
at my friends and they’d raised
their arms in the air that it was a
spade.
I dropped to my knees and almost
fainted. It was such an overwhelming
moment for me that it’s difficult to
describe.
I got a call immediately from Todd
Brunson, congratulating me. I
thanked him for taking a piece of
me. After all, if he hadn’t bought
25 percent of my action, I never
would have played in the event. I
would have been back in that $20-$40
Omaha high-low game, in all
likelihood learning that 6-7-8-9
isn’t a very good hand as I went
broke once again.
I didn’t win any more tournaments
during that WSOP, but I did get to
play in the main event, which was
another big thrill. I made it to the
second day with $11,400, then was
quickly dispatched by a great
European player named Jimmy Magee.
I haven’t missed the main event
since, and don’t ever plan to. The
closest I’ve gotten was my
disappointing 11th-place finish this
year. I say disappointing because
unlike ’98, I really thought I was
going to win it. Oh well, as much as
I learned from winning a bracelet in
‘98, I probably learned more from my
near miss in the main event this
year.
I was starting to doubt whether I
was capable of winning the main
event, so my 11th-place finish
helped me realize that I have a
shot, much like the confidence
boosters I got from both Todd
Brunson and Men “The Master” did for
me back in ‘98.
Anyway, writing this column brought
back a lot of great memories, and
I’m glad that I could share them
with you. Thanks for listening, or I
guess I should say, thanks for
reading.
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