Gray-haired poker TRs: Living the WSOP dream

WSOP 2026: (June 13) $500 Colossus NLHE, Day 1D (Part 10 of 14)
I run a multi-street bluff with only Ace high against Lady California ... Dinner break, I’m not hungry and only seek solitude (well, solitude and a strawberry milkshake)

Level 12
1,500/3,000/3,000

It folds to me in the small blind, and I open the betting with A-9. Lady California calls. I completely miss the flop. I bet, she calls. I completely miss the turn and with only Ace high I bet again. Lady California tanks, sighs, tanks some more and folds.

I open a hand with A-Q, and everyone folds.

Tex goes all-in blind when he is down to crumbs. He has Q-4. He busts to Q-J.

End of level 12: 140,000 chips (tournament chip average is 141,000).

We go on dinner break. I don’t think anyone from LVL is still in today’s Colossus. Plus, I’m not hungry. I wander around aimlessly. Game 5 of the NBA Finals between the Knicks and Spurs is on. Normally, this would the slam dunk choice for me to watch, but I just don’t feel like it. I know TJ busted his two bullets a while ago, so he is surely long gone. I text TonySoprano9 to see if he’s around, but it turns out he is at the Wynn. I decide what I need. I go to Bobby’s Burgers and order a strawberry milkshake. While I am in the somewhat lengthy line to place my order, I get in conversation with the guy next to me. He is still in the Colossus and has 180,000 chips.

Eventually my shake is ready.

I take my strawberry shake to a mostly empty back hallway at the Paris. At one point a security guard comes by and tells a couple of poker players who are lying sprawled out on the floor that they have to sit up. They can’t take a nap lying down. I just sit on the ground, drink my milkshake and chill.

During the recent discussion between late reg players back at my table when one of them said starting the day during level 1 sounds like “death,” another player piped in that when it gets late in Day 1, late reg players are much fresher than the riff-raff (my term not his) who have been playing all day. As I am thinking of this, I’ve got to admit that I’m tired.

I head back to the rail near my table and I watch the final minute of the Knicks-Spurs basketball game.

The game ends. Time to go back to my table. Time to play some poker. Time to see if I can run up my stack. Time to do battle with late day/night fatigue. Time to deal with relentlessly growing blinds. Time to do battle with the late reg killers.

WSOP 2026: (June 13) $500 Colossus NLHE, Day 1D (Part 11 of 14)
I post the blinds and then my table immediately breaks ... We get moved from the Paris Ballroom to the Horseshoe Ballroom and make the long trek with everyone else who was playing in the Paris ... I get to my new table and I’m immediately in the big blind

Level 13
2,000/4,000/4,000

I write in my notes that I have 35 BBs. Still plenty.

I’ve stopped naming new late-reg players as bust outs are fast and furious. They aren’t lasting long enough to earn a nickname. It’s hi and goodbye time.

I have just posted the big blind and then the small blind when it is announced that my table will break. This is lousy timing. Why couldn’t we break just BEFORE I post the blinds? Actually, it’s not just my table breaking. All of the remaining Colossus tables in Paris are breaking and heading to the Horseshoe Ballroom. There is a pause until all tables have completed hands. Then the cattle call over to the Horseshoe begins.

I get to my new table, and sure enough, I am immediately in the big blind. Figures.

Let’s see if we can make the best of the big blind. It folds to the BTN who opens 8,000. Small blind folds. I call with Kd-9s. The flop is Ad-7d-3d. I have the nut flush draw. I check. The BTN bets. I raise with the nut flush draw. Villain folds.

Let’s back up a little to when I arrived at this table, before I had a chance to sit down. Two players busted in a massive, massive, massive hand as I took my seat at the table. This means we play 6-handed for a bit, which means the blinds come around at a rapid pace.

End of level 13: 133,000 chips.

WSOP 2026: (June 13) $500 Colossus NLHE, Day 1D (Part 12 of 14)
I win four hands very quickly ... From the SB with 7-7, I call a short stack’s all-in only to get blown off my hand by a BB raise

Level 14
3,000/5,000/5,000

A couple of players get added to the table, and we are 8-handed.

I am dealt 8-8 in the big blind. There is an open, and I call. The flop is K-7-4 rainbow. We both check. The turn is a 2. I bet and villain folds.

It folds to me in the CO and I have Ad-5d. I open the betting, and everyone folds. I have 156,000 chips.

I have K-J, and I open the betting. Everyone folds. I have 169,000 chips.

From UTG, I am dealt A-K. I open the betting. Everyone folds. I have 182,000 chips.

It’s only four hands – it is however four hands in a very short period of time – but this table seems softer than the one I recently left. Does no one want to do battle with me?

A short stack goes all-in for 14,000. I am in the small blind, and I call with 7-7. The big blind jams all-in huge. OK, the table does want to do battle with me. I fold. The initial all-in from the short stack has Q-Q. The player in the big blind who jammed over my call has A-K. The A-K gets there and the player to my immediate left now has heaps, although nowhere near the table chip leader who may very well be the tournament chip leader judging by his massive, gigantic, towering mountain of chips built on the double knockout hand that was being played when I arrived at this table.

The blinds are relentless. No sooner do I add chips, the blinds then take them away.

End of level 14: 145,000 chips.

WSOP 2026: (June 13) $500 Colossus NLHE, Day 1D (Part 13 of 14)
I open the betting in the SB with K-Q ... It’s announced that there will be seven more hands until bagging chips ... Three hands to go ... I have Ac-Kc and open the betting, the player next to me raises huge, I go all-in, villain calls with Ah-Qd, and the pot has over 300,000 chips in it

Level 15 (Final level of the day)
3,000/6,000/6,000

I have 24 BBs. Very playable, but losing a hand will hurt.

It folds to me in the small blind. I have K-Q. I bet. BB folds.

With about 10 minutes until the end of the level, it is announced that we will play seven more hands before players will bag chips. Seven hands means I will have to post the big blind on the last hand of the night. Figures.

TJ has previously told me that the money bubble happens fast on the Day 2 he made in this tournament. I can probably fold my way to the money, but I scold myself for thinking that way.

Three hands left to play. I am dealt Ac-Kc. I bet. The player to my immediate left raises huge. I don’t know if it puts me all-in or not. It doesn’t matter. I’m fully committed to A-K suited. I put all of my chips in the middle. The other guy has me covered, and he gets the count and matches my chips. Everyone else folds. We are playing for more than 300,000 chips. That would be the most chips I’ve ever had in a WSOP event.

Cards get turned over. Villain has Ah-Qd. I am a 3-to-1 favorite with my Ac-Kc. But I have seen this horror film repeatedly this WSOP. Get it in way ahead. Lose. I instinctively brace myself for bad news. No! Enough! Stop the negativity!

Sooner or later, I am going to get it in great for heaps and hold. Maybe this is my time. Maybe this is my tournament. Forget “maybe.” I’m way ahead. This is my time. This is the hand that can propel me to a cash for the third WSOP in a row, which was my goal at the start of this WSOP. This is the hand that the percentages finally hold up. I’m ahead damnit! Just fade a Queen. No Queen. No Queen. No Queen.

As bad as I have run this WSOP, negative thoughts creep in. Don’t do this to me again! The dealer burns a card and ...

... Q-9-6. No clubs. Outwardly I show no emotion. Inwardly I am thinking, “Are you f**king kidding me!!!!!!”

I don’t improve on the turn or river. Apparently, favorable variance only runs one way, and it is not in my direction. The Evil Poker God of Variance has struck again.

A line from the movie Tin Cup seems fitting: “You ride her until she bucks you or you don’t ride at all.”

Objectively, sure, that line is fitting. I, however, am in absolutely no mood for “objectively.” I don’t view what has just happened as philosophically and poetically as Tin Cup does in the clip above. I feel ... fury!

It’s happened to me again!!!

Get it in great. Lose.

It’s not my time. It’s not my tournament. This isn’t the hand that propels me to a WSOP cash for the third year in a row.

This is the hand that devastates me ... destroys me ... demolishes me ... decimates me.

I’m out.

Poker hates me.

Tough beat :( Being on the wrong side of variance (with an edge!) can be soul crushing. I know that pain as I seemed to be on the wrong side of variance on my trip as well. All we can do is hope to get it in good and then hold. Doesn't always happen.

When I look back at tournaments I have done well in there were always a hand or two had they gone the other way they wouldn't be memorable tournaments at all!

WSOP 2026: (June 13) $500 Colossus NLHE, Day 1D (Part 14 of 14)
The brutal, unfair nature of poker ... I am really, really, really angry ... Do I play tomorrow in the $800 Deepstack 8-hand NLH tournament? ... Do I set my alarm clock for tomorrow morning?

HEARTBREAK, Nevada -- I stumble out of the Horseshoe Ballroom, staggered by the poker kill shot I have just absorbed. Metaphorically speaking it was a double tap center mass with a head shot added for good measure. No survivors. Play Taps for me. My poker obituary will start, “It was not supposed to end this way ...” Time of death: three hands before bagging chips.

I, of course, am still in the land of the living. I am just poker dead. I am exhausted. I am emotionally crushed. I am really, really, really angry. Why does this keep happening to me? Why don’t my dominating hands hold up in the most crucial hands I’ve played in at the World Series of Poker during my short poker life?

I know bad beats are part of the game. I know that these things are supposed to eventually even out, but it seems that “eventually” will take a lot longer than I thought. I know that intellectually ... (pause) ... F**k intellectually! In four different WSOPs I have gotten unlucky waaaay more often than I’ve gotten lucky. I don’t feel like brushing off this latest bit of bad luck with aplomb. I don’t feel like saying “that’s poker.” I don’t feel like taking a bad beat with the best of ‘em. Right now I just want to be pissed off. I don’t feel like getting philosophical. I don’t feel like waxing poetic. Right now, I just want to howl at the moon!

My A-K versus villain’s A-Q was for the most WSOP chips I would have ever had. It felt like all I had to do was reach out and drag the pot. I really, really, really wanted this to be my time.

I don’t see how I can play tomorrow in the WSOP’s $800 Deepstack 8-handed tournament. I was really looking forward to that tournament when I originally planned my schedule. I was prepared to fire two bullets if necessary, although I’ve been prepared to fire a second bullet in a lot of WSOP tournaments this summer, but I have pretty consistently run deep on Day 1s and either couldn’t late reg or was too tired from a long day to max late reg.

Night after night after night after night I go pretty deep to very deep and ...

... I’ve got nothing to show for it due to unbelievable run bad.

Thing is, I would be fine with it if I was simply getting outplayed by superior players when I’d get knocked out. OK, fine, I wouldn’t be OK with that, but at least that would make sense. But to absorb so many bad beats in the critical hands – mostly knockout hands -- of my WSOP seems so ... so ... unfair.

Yes, I know, no one ever said tournament poker is fair.

But the success or failure of my entire poker year is tied to my two weeks at the WSOP. It’s a tiny sample size so everything rides on a small number of tournaments. To go up against superior, more experienced (especially the late reg crew) players, hold my own and very frequently get it in great only to get decimated by negative variance is soul crushing.

I’m not asking to sun run. I’m just asking for my dominating hands in critical moments to win at expected EV. And that’s just ... not ... happening.

In my four WSOPs (2019, 2024-2026) I can only think of one major hand in which I put a really bad beat on someone, which was, going from memory, when I got it all-in with Q-Q up against K-K and I got lucky, spiking a Queen. But that was fairly early in a tournament. A long way from significantly mattering.

Late in Day 1s of tournaments I do not remember ever getting lucky when I have gotten it in bad. I have, on the other hand, frequently gotten wrecked late in Day 1s of tournaments when I have gotten it in very, very good.

Coolers I can live with. Q-Q against A-A is unfortunate, but it happens. But the storm cloud that seems to follow me around, unleashing thunderstorms upon my 75-25 and 80-20 hands is getting really infuriating.

OK, enough whining. At least I am going to try to stop whining, but this last bad beat really, really stings. Can I whine a little bit more? I know you don’t want to read about me whining anymore. OK, I’ll stop the whining.

I’m finally calming down a bit. A little bit. Actually, not much at all. I text a couple of LVL friends the following:

Three hands from bagging
in Colossus I get it all-in for
300,000+

I have AK
Villain has AQ

Q on the flop. I’m out.

TJ is the first to respond. He texts back:

“Noooooooo that’s so sick!”

That pretty much sums it up without the intense anger and emotional wreckage.

OK, I need to get my act together. Deep cleansing breaths. Moving on, do I play tomorrow? I just don’t see how I’d play well. Now, the argument can be made that if my A-K had held up against A-Q, I would expect to play well on Day 2 of the Colossus.

Fair point. But I think playing in Day 2 of a tournament gives me an adrenaline rush and a locked-in level of concentration that is very different than starting all over in a Day 1 when the blinds are 100/200/200 after suffering a soul-crushing, existential crisis the night before. After being so close to 300,000+ chips tonight, I just don’t see how I can turn around 11 hours from now and have the patience needed to play at the level 1 pace. I don’t think I will have the proper mindset. I don’t think I will play well. I’m worn out. I’m not level-headed. I don’t think I have it in me to fire tomorrow’s tourney. I think I’m done. Am I done?

I get back to my room, and I don’t type a single word from today’s tournament into my laptop. Not ... one ... single ... word. I don’t even get so far as opening my laptop. It stays shut. I just don’t feel like typing what I’m feeling. Can’t bring myself to do it. Won’t bring myself to do it. Probably shouldn’t bring myself to do it.

Even though I am tired, I am also kind of wired. I don’t go to sleep. I can’t go to sleep. Instead, I read the avalanche of LVL trip reports taking place on 2+2. I find doing so calms me down. I finally call it a night at 1:00 a.m.

I do not set my alarm clock. Decision made. I’m not playing the $800 Deepstack 8-handed tomorrow.

[emoji3531][emoji3531]

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Brutal beat there, especially considering it was late in the day and for a really good stack that you could bring with you to day 2. I am all too familiar with that shell-shocked feeling after busting out very sudden when you don't expect or deserve it.

I really hope you managed to sleep on it and joined the $800 Deepstack anyway. Life is short and WSOP doesn't come around too often. Although I realize me writing this is pointless, as you are already home by now 😀

WSOP 2026: June 14 (Part 1 of 2)
I sleep half the day away ... Still feeling lethargic ... No poker today ... I go for a very good meal at Tom Colicchio’s Craftsteak

The next day.

I wake up at 12:00 noon. I slept for 11 hours.

Despite all of the sleep, I still do not have a lot of energy. I read some more LVL trip report updates that others have written. It takes a while but eventually I force myself to shower.

I’m two days behind in my trip report writing, which has never happened before. I work on the trip report a bit. I make a dinner reservation at Tom Colicchio’s Craftsteak, which is at the MGM. The MGM and the Signature (my hotel) are connected in the same way the Paris and Horseshoe are connected. I can walk between the two hotels and never have to go outside in the heat. If I’m not up to playing poker, I may as well have a good meal. I have a vague recollection that someone recommended Craftsteak once (I think it was Leon, but I’m not positive).

Just before I am about to head to dinner, I have a YOLO moment of strength (or is it weakness?) and check the WSOP $800 deepstack 8-handed on the app. Is there time for me to late reg? Turns out late-reg lasts only 8 more minutes. Even if I could find a Star Trek style transporter to beam me over, starting stack will only be 10 big blinds. That would be nonsense. Even if there were still time, I’m pretty sure I would not have played. Off to dinner I go.

My waiter is named Blue. He takes my order and then brings some warm rolls and butter.

My appetizer is lobster bisque soup. It is delicious. As good as or better than any bisque soup I’ve ever had.

As you can see, I did everything but lick the bowl clean.

For dinner I have ordered a filet with a half lobster accompaniment.

When I ordered this, my waiter Blue asked if I wanted a side order of anything. I say no thanks. He replies, “The lobster will be your side order.” Blue is very upbeat and optimistic. Which means he must not play poker. Yeah, I’m still not over it.

The steak and lobster are both very tender and very good. The filet has a nice sauce and garlic cloves, which I enjoy. The lobster has some excellent seasonings.

It’s not a life changing, best meal I’ve ever had experience, but it is very, very much a quality meal. A restaurant worth going to.

Service is impeccable. As soon as I finish one dish, Blue is quick to bring out the next. When I am done with dinner, Blue asks if I’d like dessert. He makes a recommendation. I say, “I’m pretty full, so I’ll skip dessert. But I am curious about your name. I’ve never met anyone named Blue. Is there a story?

Blue explains that his formal name is Dimitry. and when they were young his little brother could not say Dimitry so he shortened it to Blue.

I say, “But Blue is not short for Dimitry.”

Blue says, “I know, but it stuck.”

Blue then says that his father’s real name is James, but everyone calls him Buddy. Blue adds, “I didn’t know his real name was James until I was 15 years old.”

I've eaten at Craftsteak 2 times now, and they both rank in my top 5 dinners, partially due to quality of food but also good company. Dining solo? Probably still great! 😉

WSOP 2026: June 14 (Part 2 of 2)
The 24-hour rule ... I’m still not over it ... There are Daily Deepstacks on my schedule the next two days if I’m up for it ... Am I up for it?

Later that night.

It has now been 24 hours since my last bad beat occurred. In sports it is said that you get 24 hours to celebrate a big win or brood about a devastating loss. And then you have to turn the page to whatever is next. My 24 hours are up.

I am still not over it.

I have taken plenty of WSOP bad beats at a statistically improbable level, but up until this last one I have always gotten over it almost immediately. In the past I have either immediately turned the page or at worst I have maybe stewed for an hour.

But I’m not over this latest bad beat. Not even close. Perhaps it is because if the hand had held up, I would have gotten to a Day 2 in a way I have never done before, which is having enough chips to be dangerous.

Right now, I feel mad at poker. I’m not willing/able to forgive this latest indiscretion on the part of poker.

I feel ... I struggle to find the right word.

I feel ... broken.

Not life broken. I still have a great life. But I feel poker broken.

There are still two days before I head home. I can play in Daily Deepstacks. Right now, the thought of grinding a Daily Deepstack with a starting stack and tiny blinds sounds terrible.

F**k it! I’m done.

Guessing this was about the point I messaged you and asked if you were playing WSOP Seniors and you told me you were burned out?

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This was the only time when I felt burned out, so your timeline seems to track.

I like the way I keep weaning in and out of the story!

Brings me back to being there.

Still playing on Global yesterday, I lost AKs to A7o on a K96 board, AI on the flop for like 1.6 million chips. He went perfect perfect (with nothing!) to make a straight. This of course happened while I was reading about your bad beat.

Hope you can/did shake it off.

WSOP 2026: June 15, 2026 (Part 1 of 1)
The next day ... The bad news is relentless ... No poker today ... Pool day ... A civilian’s response to my final A-K versus A-Q bad beat

I get a phone call at 8:30 a.m. Who in the bloody hell is calling me at 8:30 a.m.? It is someone in a time zone two hours away. The news is less than cheerful. A tenant in a shopping center of mine is talking bankruptcy/restructuring. Do I want to negotiate with them?

When it rains it pours.

This news leads to multiple other phone calls and decisions. It also changes my thinking on another, unrelated piece of real estate in terms of whether or not I want to sell that property or hang on to it. More phone calls. Up until now I was leaning toward hanging on to it. Now with multiple build outs to potentially pay for in a shopping center elsewhere I change direction and decide that selling makes more sense to have some additional financial liquidity. The offer to buy has gone without response on my part. I talk to my broker and give him a counter offer price.

So here I am, mad at poker, plus my work life is intruding on my trip. It doesn’t put me in a great state of mind. Last chance to have a change of heart regarding poker. Do I want to reconsider and sign up for a Daily Deepstack? I do not. No chance I would play well. Surely there has to be a better way to spend my day.

Pool day.

Not as in me swimming in a pool. I hate swimming. I like the heat. I hate being in swimming pools. The water is always too cold for me, although with the weather being over 100 degrees maybe that’s not a problem here. I rent a cabana. Let’s see if we can sweat the bad beats out of me.

I order loaded nachos for lunch, and it is brought to me along with a giant container of water bottles and ice.

There is a rotating fan atop the cabana that is fighting a losing battle with the blazing Vegas heat. There is a TV, and I put on the World Cup game between Egypt and Belgium. It’s a game I don’t care at all about, but I like sports as background noise.

I work on my trip report. I have done so in a cabana just like this in past WSOP trips near the end when I have run out of gas to play poker. I rather enjoy sitting in the heat in the comfort of a cabana and writing away.

I get a text from my younger daughter. Someone hit her parked car. The offending car is still parked in the same lot, but its owner did not leave my daughter a note. She wants to know what to do.

I get a text from a friend, telling me he has just learned that a mutual friend of ours died. Someone I was really good friends with at one stage of our lives before he changed jobs and moved out of state.

C’mon, man. The universe is piling on at this point.

My real estate broker gets back to me, and the potential purchaser is willing to meet me halfway between his offer and my counter offer. It’s a very fair response. I tell the broker I am inclined to take it unless he thinks there is more negotiating to be done. At first the broker hems and haws between agreeing to the price versus trying to squeeze out a tiny bit more. At first, he thinks that if we just take the last counter offer, the potential buyer will have buyer’s remorse that he overpaid. Then he seems to be leaning toward a bird in the hand. He seems torn between the two options.

Finally, I interject and say, “Take it. Make the deal.”

The broker then remembers that I am at the World Series of Poker. He always loves hearing my poker stories. He asks me how I’m doing. I tell him the story about losing with A-K versus A-Q for 300,000+ chips three hands before the end of play when I was getting kind of, sort of near a view of the money that will be reached early the next day.

My broker is incredulous. He is heart-broken for me, and he says, “But, but, but ... but you had the best hand.”

I reply, “The best hand doesn’t always win.”

rpdaughter's car incident sucks. Hope she was able to get to a good resolution.

Sorry about your loss as well. Man, when it's coming down, it's coming down.

Hope the deal stays afloat and goes smoothly.

A nurse once told me to never say "It couldn't get any more painful." because the universe will find a way to make you a liar.

Just sayin'. Hope the tornados don't hit.