My Submission

Life is just a fantasy, can you live this fantasy life? - Aldo Nova

****

I'd be remiss if I didn't rise to my own challenge...

****

I can't believe I just clicked the wrong button. As I'm sitting there on PokerStars with 10 players left hoping to make the final table, I watch as Iggy goes all-in from the button trying yet again to steal my blind. Having been dealt J,4o for what seems like the 20th straight time, I don't believe I can defend. It's at just that moment when miniBlood walks into the room having awoken from his sleep, apparently from the sound of me slapping my monitor at the craptacular cards I've been dealt.

I had been chip leader for a while, but had been blinded away to slightly below average stack. My dreams of finishing first were being slowly dissipated by the reality of a very cold virtual deck. As I turned to usher miniBlood back to the comforts of his own bed, he stepped on his own blue and white plaid blanket and stumbled forward. In my haste to catch him, my own reflexes must have inadvertantly moved the mouse over the "call" button and before you could say "D'oh!" I was all-in pre-flop with the Jackhammer.

Having saved miniBlood from a minor spill, I wasn't too suprised to turn back around to the computer monitor to see that Iggy had pushed with pocket J's. I was, as they like to say, dominated. I lifted miniBlood up into my arms and told him to watch daddy lose this hand and his chance at futher glory at the World Series of Poker. With sleep still in his eyes, miniBlood calmly looked up at me and said "Daddy, you need fours."

****

Ninety minutes after flopping quads, I managed to use the Blogfather's chips to propel myself to an unlikely victory. Event #2 had my name all over it.

****

When I originally made plans to take Mrs_Blood to Vegas, Otis had approached me about playing in the $1500 NL event. I wasn't sure I was ready to directly buy-in, but now that I had won the satellite, we could begin discussions to determine what the respective wives would do for the bulk of that Friday. We both needed them to be somewhere else to ensure that we could have full concentration during the tournament. A day of spa treatments and shopping was the solution. Even though it could cost us a pretty penny, the peace of mind it would buy was well worth it.

****

Event #2 attracted 1300 participants and due to it being scheduled for only 1 day, I knew the structure wouldn't be ideally suited for a sit back and wait attitude. Time to put on the aggression hat. My aggression hat comes in the form of alcohol. Not enough to make AlCantHang feel a buzz, just a little to wipe out the affects of adrenaline. My pre-game meal of SoCo, Heineken and beef jerky would last me until the tournament started, at which point I would order nothing but Bloody Mary's loaded with green olives for sustenance.

****

With my custom made "BadBlood" card protector, WPBT jersey, and World Champion Boston RedSox hat in tow, I was more than ready. The Sox hat was there to remind me that the improbability of victory shouldn't concern me and that I should just play poker to the best of my ability.

Luckily for me, I sat down at my first table and found no seasoned professional players. I was able to double through early when some moron wearing a Party Poker hat let me see a free flop from the big blind. I held 79s and flopped the nut straight. I had room to breathe and began to play the waiting game.

With a crowd of blogger onlookers, I was sorely tempted to throw down the hammer at some point. The only time I held the hammer, it was in the big blind and everyone folded. I flipped my cards face up and told the rest of the table they were lucky to avoid a confrontation. Chants of "Hammer! Hammer!" rose up from the peanut gallery and I was reminded of my Mandalay Bay 4/8 Hammer Drop. Excitement was brewing.

****

Three-quarters of the field had been eliminated as we went on dinner break. My chip count ranked me at about 150th of the remaining 300 and I was quite content to be where I was. Otis was also still alive, but was outplaying just about everyone, landing him among the chip leaders. With the wives still having their way with our credit cards, we scored a major coup with an invitation to eat dinner with Shana Hiatt, Vince Van Patten, Daniel Negreanu, Chris Ferguson, Richard Brodie AND Dr. Pauly. AlCantHang was having a liquid meal. I would have taken notes during diner, but Dr. Pauly and the Quiet Lion would have much more interesting reads so I deferred to them.

****

After dinner as the field narrowed, I stayed afloat through standard blind-stealing tactics and pushing hard with decent hands. I couldn't believe my good fortunes when I busted Dan Harrington with pocket K's vs. his pocket A's. I flopped a K and he never improved. He commented that he'd rather go out to a fellow Sox fan than give his chips to Mike Matusow who was the current chip leader. Before long, I managed to fold my way to the final two tables of nine. Much to my delight Otis was still alive over on the second table, but was feeling out of sorts with Isabelle Mercier to his direct left.

****

Norman Chad decided to interview me during the next break in order to have some tournament filler footage of those of us who might make the final table. I quickly did some pushups so that my sleeveless WPBT shirt could accentuate my monster triceps. Bob from One2Many had his sleeveless hammer shirt on and I didn't want to clash. I told Norman about how my son's midnight trip helped me gain entry to the tournament and proceeded to show him some pictures. He thought ESPN could possibly revamp the series TILT with him as a major star. Scott Fishman was waving me down after the interview and handed me his card, hoping to convince miniBlood to join the Crew when he turned 18. I told him I'd at least let him think about it.

****

I awoke the next day from a sound sleep, nearly forgetting that I was due to play in the final table at noon. Mrs_Blood showed me her credit bills from the previous day. By the looks of things, I would need to finish 5th to break even. I told her that she should probably watch from the audience today rather than buy any more clothes and jewelry. I got the rolled eye treatment, but she conceded to my wishes.

Here is your final table for Event #2.

BadBlood - 666,000
Isabelle Mercier - 125,000
Mike Matusow - 1,200,000
Paul Phillips - 762,000
John Juanda - 802,000
Chris Ferguson - 323,000
Phil Ivey - 412,000
Todd Brunson - 86,000
Otis - 532,000

I liked my starting chip stack.

****

Todd Brunson was the first to go, Phil Ivey's QJs tookout his KQo when two J's hit the flop. Otis had the heart-breaking task of busting out Isabelle. He had pocket A's and had no choice but to call her pre-flop all in. Otis did say he wanted to really fold his hand if only to be able to smell her for an hour longer. After she left, someone in the audience screamed "NOOOOOO" - a scream that could be heard for miles. Mean Gene was escorted out by security.

****

Matusow was bullying the table with his monster stack, all the while berating the other players. He sucked out on John Juanda, rivering an 8 to give him a set and besting Juanda's pocket 9's. "I'm due, baby! I'm due!" he screamed. Paul Phillips managed to bust Jesus, having faith in Big Slick. Jesus' AQ received no divine intervention and we had five players left, 60% of whom were bloggers. What are the odds???

****

Phil Ivey's eyes nearly exploded out of his skull when his pocket T's lost to my KJ suited. He had flopped a set, but with that third T came a Queen and a nine. Buh-bye. Paul Phillips made quick work of Matusow who had given most of his chips to me in a stone cold bluff that I called. Matusow had the look of someone who had just seen a ghost when I called with Ace high. I told him I had quijones. Big ones.

****

Down to three: A blogspot user, a Live Journal user, and someone who uses a custom web site developed by CJ. Phillips having recently become a father was having stamina issues. Sleep deprivation was taking its toll. He became rather short-stacked and I put him all-in with A8s. He called with pocket 7's, his 5-star winning hand. Alas, I turned the Ace-high flush and Paul was out in third. This battle just became a battle for South Carolina, a battle between a lowly satellite entry winner and a direct buy-in, a battle between a great writer and a....umm...great...FORTRAN programmer? Well, there it is.

****

Who won? Did it matter? Not really. Otis and I made the final two and appeared on ESPN. We both made enough in prize money to cover our wives' purchases with a little left over for us. Where did my money go? As promised, I collected much of my winnings in Washington's and I took over the entire Spearmint Rhino for the evening. Dr. Pauly and Grubby were first in line for the next blogger competition, the WSOLD (World Series of Lap Dances).

The next day I signed lucrative endorsement deals with several online poker sites, deals that would enable me to quit my day job as chief monkey at the zoo. I would get to travel a bit, as well as have many of my tournament entry fees paid for. The life of a poker pro was beckoning me and I answered the call. It would actually enable me more financial freedom and give me more time to spend with the family. That's what I call a win-win.

****

So really, who won? Well, I'll only say this: If you ever see a 2005 WSOP bracelet lying around, flip it over on its back. I may be engraved with a single word.

Blood.