[SpeakEasy]

Sunday, Bellagio

I arrive about 1:15pm for the 2pm $500 buy-in NLHE tournament. The Bellagio has upgraded and expanded the poker room, and its very nice. There’s a main floor, four tables on an upper level high-stakes area enclosed by frosted glass, and the large ultra-plush single-table high-stakes room. They have pictures of high-rollers and WPT winners on the walls, which adds a very unique touch. A flat-screen TV at the Poker Room entrance has the names and winnings of recent WPT tournament players. This may very well be the center of the poker universe, now that the WSOP has all but abandoned the downtown Horseshoe.

My tournament starts in seat 5 at a 10-handed table with players ranging from seasoned to fairly inexperienced, and a couple of stodgy old regulars. The old guys let everyone know they play here a lot by calling out to the staff and talking loudly about how they faired yesterday. We start with $2000 and 25/25 blinds, going up every 40 minutes. Overall, everyone is friendly, and play is tight from the start. I ease into tight mode, either raising or folding pre-flop. I slowly build my stack with hands that end before the showdown.

During the second level, seat 9 busts out, and Michael “The Grinder, I’m a Machine” Mizrachi plops down in his place. I wonder if his nickname started out as “The Grinder, I’m a Machine,” or if he added the “I’m a Machine”-part for his own benefit. Everyone instantly recognizes him. The guy in seat 3 has apparently met him before, and acts like he’s The Grinder’s life-long buddy. Its painful to watch a 50 year-old man kiss the ass of a 25 year-old uber-successful player.

Mizrachi is immediately the center of attention, raising PF and entering a lot of pots. He’s betting aggressively, and many yielding to his aggression. He plays with a lot of ego, and clearly likes to run the table. The way he counts chips and bets just screams confidence. Its an interesting contrast to everyone I’ve played with so far in Vegas, and he’s clearly the most bold player I’ve ever seen in person. On one particular hand, Mizrachi raises pre-flop, a stodgy old-guy in seat 1 calls, and Mizrachi leads the betting on every street with the old guy calling the flop and turn. On the river, Mizrachi bets enough to put the old guy all-in, and the old guy folds. Mizrachi flips T7o into the middle, which has connected with absolutely nothing on the board. Someone comments about “firing all three barrels,” and its even more clear that Mizrachi is playing at a level a few notches above this table. I was convinced Mizrachi had the goods.

After the first 15 minute break, during level 4, Mizrachi pulls a trick on a newbie to my left. Newbie goes all-in on a smallish stack, and everyone folds around to Mizrachi in the BB. The trick works like this:

Mizrachi collects a stack of chips in his left hand. He bets the chips with his left hand. While the chips are moving forward in the air, but before the chips have touched the table again, he quickly flips the cards with his right hand under the chips and into the muck. Then the chips hit the table (after the cards are in the muck), and he yells “Call!”

In this single set of motions, he has actually folded, while trying to trick the newbie into thinking that he has called. Newbie falls for it and flips over pocket eights. Mizrachi pauses and looks around the table, then raises his hands in the air showing no cards, waiting for everyone to notice this trick. Laughter ensues.

He’s clearly just goofing around, not trying to shoot any angles, yet at the same time I can tell that a few eyebrows are raised at the table. A few orbits later he tries the same trick against me.

I’m 99% certain he folded, but its such a quick motion that I want to make sure. I ask “You have cards?” Being tricked into flipping over my cards would be embarrassing, but folding when he actually does still have cards would be worse.

He laughs and pulls the chips back. “Nah.”

After he tries this trick for a third time, several players at the table, and the dealer, are clearly getting annoyed at his shenanigans. He’s a bold, brash player, but now he’s starting to show his age. Unfortunately, no matter how many millions he’s made at poker thus far, this is exactly how an immature player would act at the table. This might be funny in a home game, and this $500 buy-in tourney may be chump-change to him, but he’s no longer funny to the table.

My first interesting hand happens during level 4, with the blinds at 100-200 and my stack at around 6000. I’ve been folding a lot, so when its folded around to me with A[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] 7[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img] on the button, I raise to 600. SB joined just before the break. He has been talking a lot with Mizrachi, and has the full Young Asian Hipster look going. Mirrored shades, expensive shirt, necklaces and jewelry, spikey hair. He asks how much I’ve got left. I raise my arm and let him figure it out, without counting for him or saying a word. He eyeballs my stack and raises to 1200. I’ve got the vibe that he was just trying to put a scare in me and steal back, so I call. He’s been liberally calling and raising, and has me covered by maybe 500.

The flop comes Q[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] 8[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] 3[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img]. Spike quickly shoves his stack in. My first thought is fold, it mostly missed me, and I was on a steal anyway. As I’m pondering, Spike leans forward to look around the dealer, and is checking me out. I glance over, and he’s staring. He leans in closer, and is now invading the dealer’s personal space. The dealer leans back to get out of his way, probably fearing Spike might try to plant a wet one on him.

At this point I’m thinking that he’s overtly trying to stare me out of the hand, and I’m sensing weakness. Now I’m actually running through the math. 9 outs to the nut flush. Three aces are probably good outs. If he hasn’t even paired, three 7s may also be good outs, and I would already have the best hand with ace high. I may have as many as 14 outs, which would put me over 50% to improve to a better, or nut, hand by the river.

After I run through this, he still staring, hovering over the dealer. Doesn’t he know that I’ve read Caro’s book, too? Strong means weak. I call.

He slumps back in his chair and says the two words I love to hear, “Good call.” He turns over 10[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] 7[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]. Wow, its even better than I thought -- he’s dead to three tens. Two non-spade blanks on the turn and river, and I’m the new table captain. I feel like telling him not to be so obvious next time, but he’ll just have to figure that out himself. (After I wrote this report, I’ve since learned that Spike was actually John Phan, currently on the cover of Cardplayer magazine. Cool.)

I continue to play tight and aggressive, only folding, open raising or re-raising. This works well, and by the second 15 break I’m at $12,975 and we are down to 17 players.

We are down to 12 players and I’m about average with around $14,000. The blinds are 500-1000, 50 ante. The older guy who was previously kissing Mizrachi’s ass raises UTG to $3100. I have K[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img] Q[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img] in the SB, and call another $2600, mainly because we’re short handed and I’m guessing I probably have the best hand or overcards to a pocket pair.

The flop comes Q[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img] 7[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img] 2[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]. I consider the range of hands that he might have -- any pocket pair, AK down to maybe A8, and possibly some lower hands like JTs. I estimate that I’m only beat here by AQ, KK, AA or a lucky flush or set, and I’m way ahead of many other hands he might have. I go all-in. He calls, and I immediately think that I’m cooked. He flips -- 6[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img] 6[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img], no diamond! I double up, he’s crippled. What a strange call, and so close to the money. My best guess is that he thought I was moving in with AK. He steam-raises all-in the next hand, gets called and knocked out.

Soon we are down to the final table of 9, with 8 places paid. We make a save for 9th place, who will get $800. I am in 2nd or 3rd in chips, depending on stack fluctuations from hand-to-hand.

When the blinds hit 800-1600/100 ante, with 8 players left, someone starts talk of a deal. The guy in 1st has about $46,000 in chips. We sat next to each other earlier and chatted -- he’s solid, not making any mistakes. I have $22,100 in chips, and am in 2nd or 3rd place. Even so, a meaningful open raise of $4,000 approaches 20% of my stack. One mistake hand and its nearly all-in or fold for me. For most of the table, its already all-in or fold. We won’t see post-flop play until we loose 3 or 4 players.

The prize pool is just over $40,000 total, after the $800 paid to 9th. The prizes are roughly:
1st -- $15,000
2nd -- $10,000
3rd -- $5300
4th -- $2800.
The proposed deal is just to chop the pot 8 even ways, with the justification being that luck will decide the final 4 or 3 players and we are all so close in chips. The guy in 1st place voices his objection, so the deal changes to $6000 for him, and the other 7 players chop the remainder evenly, which would be just under $5000 per player. I give this deal the thumbs up, knowing that I may be giving up a few hundred dollars of equity based on my current chip count in exchange for a guaranteed payment that’s nearly 3rd place money.

One old guy objects to the deal and holds out, because he’s convinced that he has nearly $40,000 in chips, too. He has huge stacks of black $100s, whereas I and several others have lots of pink $500s and some yellow $1000s. We can all see that he is miscounting his $100s, and actually has about half of what he believes he has. After some heated discussion about the size of his stack, its resolved by this exchange:

“If you have over $40,000 in chips, I’ll pay you $1000 cash right now!” says the guy to my left.

“OK, smart guy, I take that bet!” replies the old fart. “Count my stack!”

Its counted out at around $18,000. This abruptly ends the discussion, and we have a deal. It’s a wonder this old fart lasted so long in the tournament.

I have to wait for about an hour to get paid, and all awards are paid in chips. Final payout is $4,845.

As I’m leaving the poker room, the exclusive single-table private room is now populated by Jennifer Harman, Phil Ivey, David Benyamine, David Oppenheim and Eli Elezra. How in the world do these predators play with each other and make money? Maybe they’re waiting for a big fish to arrive… or maybe one of them is the big fish…

I report the results to my wife, who is eating dinner with other family. Later, after I’ve turned chips into cash, we convene out by the dancing waters for one show, then head to Noodles for my late dinner.

I’m definitely playing at the Bellagio next time.