Brian Fidler Poker
I didn’t recognize anybody at my table when the game began, but about 12 hands in, a familiar face sat down. I couldn’t place him at first, but after 30 minutes I had a good idea – it was Brian Fidler, Daniel Negreanu’s first Protege. He struck me as overly confident, but was nice enough. Fidler just finished second at the World Series of Poker circuit event that took place at Harrah's Lake Tahoe this month and wrapped up yesterday. Fidler won $206,800 for his play. He came into the.
Like the first Star Wars movie, this post comes first in delivery, though not in chronology. The recap of my trip is forthcoming, time allowing.
Saturday morning came early for me. I was still tired from the night before, when I decided to get in a couple hours of cash game before bed. I had been playing bad and running bad since arriving in Las Vegas. Nevertheless, I was undeterred, and jumped out of bed with both feet hitting the ground simultaneously. I showered and dressed for comfort, with a t-shirt layered under a long sleeve warm-ish collared shirt. The over-shirt was black with a collar, for a little subconscious intimidation and a little concealment of my neck (pulse and adam’s apple/swallowing motion.) As it turns out, the room was a little warmer than I expected and than was advertised. Most of the first day I was sporting my Pink Floyd t-shirt with the pink pig. I also wear a hat in tournament play, which keeps minimizes distractions (like blinders on a horse) and to conceal my eyes when I opted to tilt my head down. I selected my Detroit Pistons hat for this occasion. (Yes, I’m a huge Pistons fan living in Chicago).
We got on the Caesar’s-Rio shuttle around 10AM, 2 hours before cards were in the air. I had already registered, so I just needed food and walking time from the front doors of the Rio to the Amazon Room (about 3 days by dogsled).
When we got to the Sao Paulo Cafe, there was a line out the door of about 50 people. It seemed to be moving fast, so I was unconcerned. After 20 feet, the line slowed considerably, and then seemed to come to a stop for many minutes at a time. It didn’t help that there was a separate line for “Platinum Guests” (which reflects their tier of privilege in Harrah’s Total Rewards program), and that they would simply walk in and be seated rapidly, and ahead of all the patiently waiting “Gold” and Gold-minus guests.
We finally got our food at about 11:35 or 11:40. I finished eating at about 11:56am, and left Mrs. Chicago with the bill. I hoofed it to the table, arriving about 5 after, or 8 minutes before the first cards were actually dealt.
I didn’t recognize anybody at my table when the game began, but about 12 hands in, a familiar face sat down. I couldn’t place him at first, but after 30 minutes I had a good idea – it was Brian Fidler, Daniel Negreanu’s first Protege. He struck me as overly confident, but was nice enough.
Brian Fidler Poker Games
I played mainly tight poker for the first 40 minutes, and refrained from voluntarily putting chips into the pot for the first two or three rotations. On the third rotation or so a player in early-mid-position put in a 3x raise. It folded around to me on the button, and I looked down to see the JT of clubs. Since I had been talkative, friendly, and confident, but had yet to play a hand, and the player seemed to be a bit concerned when he put his chips in, I decided to see how a smooth call would be perceived. The raising player immediately shot me a glance and I nodded.
The flop came fairly innocuous and with two clubs. My opponent made a continuation bet and I called. The turn was a blank and we checked it through. The river was a third club, giving me a flush. My opponent checked, I bet half the pot, he called. I had more than my starting 3000 chips for the first moment of the tournament.
I played very tight for another few rotations until it became obvious that the table was playing extremely tightly. I played a couple hands merely to benefit from that fact, and before long the table broke and I was moved all the way across the room – Table 199.
Brian Fidler Poker Tournaments
This table was substantially more aggressive. I recognized a player four seats to my right, but couldn’t place him. I knew who he was, but didn’t know WHO he was. I just got to the bottom of that mystery – he was Shannon Freakin’ Shorr! This 22-year old poker phenom won the Bellagio Cup II main event last year after having won one of the undercard events. He cashed twice already at the WSOP this year, and has 26 cashes in major events for a total of $1.6 Million in winnings. He finished 4th in the POY standings last year.
I’m glad I didn’t know who he was for sure, as it may have intimidated the hell out of me. He was pretty quiet, as he was short on chips for much of the time we shared a table. He did make a few fancy moves to keep himself in the game. We played a couple hands together, though I was aggressive and he couldn’t play on without committing his stack.
After a few rough hands, I was back below my starting stack again. When the second level ended, I was getting nervous.
An aggressive player in his young twenties moved to our table two seats to my left. He was wearing a hood, and was not a pleasant addition to the table. [Sidenote: the vast majority of people I shared a tournament with were polite, conversational, and in many cases, even fun. I was pleasantly surprised.]
As I was getting nervous about my shrinking stack (back around 3000), I was looking for opportunities to pick up a few chips. I was on the button with one limper in the pot and found A6 of hearts. In general, this is NOT an automatic raise, and a strong argument could be made for folding in this spot with short chips. A better argument might be made for folding. I made a smallish raise (3x?) and got the aggressive player in the BB and the original limper to join me for a flop. The flop came 5,6,9 with two spades. Both players checked to me and I decided to protect what I thought could be the best hand. Both players called. I wasn’t sure where I was in the hand. Could they both be drawing?
The turn was a non-spade ten and both players checked to me. I thought I might be behind at this point. A big bet would probably get two folds, but would risk my tournament life. A check seemed safest, despite the fact that I may be sacrificing the pot. The pre-flop limper was likely to have the best hand, I surmised. And I was almost sure that the big blind was on a draw – spades most likely. That was my feeling at this point anyway.
The turn came something unhelpful (3c maybe?), though if I remember correctly, put three clubs on the board (running clubs). The big blind thought for a moment and then put out a bet of 1800 chips. This was about half his remaining stack, and about 70% of mine. The mid-position player folded. Now all I was left with was third pair on a messy board, but his bet was so fishy. What could he have that would cause him to call pre-flop and check-call the flop and check the turn? If he flopped a made hand, there were draws to fear and he would have to protect them. If he had a club flush, his cards would have to be good in another direction (i.e. pair and straight draw?) to call the flop bet. I was confident that he either had made two pair with two little cards or had absolutely nothing (still imagining a spade draw). Also, his bet was a little too big for me to call without a big hand, which I wasn’t likely to have either. At this point, I was sure he wanted a fold… so I called.
He said, “nice call” and held his cards face down over the muck. He clearly didn’t want to turn them over, and I didn’t want to be a jerk.
I said, “third pair”, with a half-grin that someone who knew me would describe as a little bit smug. I turned my cards face up and proudly spread them on the felt as if to say, “Don’t f@*k with me!” This guy was an agressive pot stealer, and I didn’t want him in anymore of my pots.
He released his cards and I got at least three “nice call!” and “wow, excellent”-type remarks. Not only had a gotten my chips healthy again, but my confidence was healthy as well.
The mid-position player, who folded to the flop bet with me remaining to act behind him let me know that he had actually folded the best hand. Now I really felt good about the way I had analyzed the hand.
I stood up for a few minutes during the next hand to get rid of the heebie-jeebies that crept in when I thought I may have just called my way into deep doo-doo…
To be continued…