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Chad Lundquist / Tahoe Daily Tribune / Tahoe Daily Tribune sports writer Jeremy Evans keeps his poker face as the bets are placed in the World Series of Poker.
STATELINE - Generally, good poker players wear sunglasses, which explains why I never owned any.
It's precisely this paraphernalia void that concerned me last Friday, an hour before a World Series of Poker No-Limit Hold'em event at Harveys Resort Casino. Without sunglasses, I had no chance of earning respect, no chance of competing, and certainly no chance of winning.
After spending $550 to enter, courtesy of the Tahoe Daily Tribune, I decided to find some poker goggles. I walked to a liquor store at Heavenly Village and searched.
I scoured the various racks with no luck, which, of course, is something no poker player needs with sunglasses. Twenty minutes before the tournament was to begin, I found a pair. Darkly tinted with a red border, classy, yet capable of evoking fear in my opponents.
I was placed at table 28, seat No. 3. All 10 players received $1,500 in tournament chips. I quickly dissected the table.
To my right were two dark-haired fellows, neither of whom were wearing sunglasses. They had no chance. To my left was a young buck with a red shirt and no sunglasses, hopeless beyond belief. They all got knocked out before me.
Further down was a gentleman wearing a white T-shirt and a weak pair of sunglasses. He was also bounced before me. The next player was wearing sunglasses and headphones. The next four players were without sunglasses, but in the No. 8 seat was Jeff Bond.
It's precisely this paraphernalia void that concerned me last Friday, an hour before a World Series of Poker No-Limit Hold'em event at Harveys Resort Casino. Without sunglasses, I had no chance of earning respect, no chance of competing, and certainly no chance of winning.
After spending $550 to enter, courtesy of the Tahoe Daily Tribune, I decided to find some poker goggles. I walked to a liquor store at Heavenly Village and searched.
I scoured the various racks with no luck, which, of course, is something no poker player needs with sunglasses. Twenty minutes before the tournament was to begin, I found a pair. Darkly tinted with a red border, classy, yet capable of evoking fear in my opponents.
I was placed at table 28, seat No. 3. All 10 players received $1,500 in tournament chips. I quickly dissected the table.
To my right were two dark-haired fellows, neither of whom were wearing sunglasses. They had no chance. To my left was a young buck with a red shirt and no sunglasses, hopeless beyond belief. They all got knocked out before me.
Further down was a gentleman wearing a white T-shirt and a weak pair of sunglasses. He was also bounced before me. The next player was wearing sunglasses and headphones. The next four players were without sunglasses, but in the No. 8 seat was Jeff Bond.
Jeff finished seventh at the previous day's No-Limit Hold'em tournament, beating 536 other players. He also had a mustache, which is always scary for someone my age. The first player of this foursome was also knocked out before me.
On the first hand, I was dealt A-J, unsuited, and called the $25 blind. The flop came out all blanks.
Someone then bet $300. I folded. The next few hands weren't anything special, but then I was dealt a beauty.
I was in early betting position holding A-Q of spades. I raised $300. Three players called. The flop came 10 of diamonds, Queen of clubs, King of spades. The other players waited for me to act.
An early position pre-flop raise is usually administered with suited-connected high cards, or a pocket pair of high cards. I now had middle pair with the best kicker.
I thought: I'll set a trap - represent weakness and smooth call anybody's bet.
I check.
On the first hand, I was dealt A-J, unsuited, and called the $25 blind. The flop came out all blanks.
Someone then bet $300. I folded. The next few hands weren't anything special, but then I was dealt a beauty.
I was in early betting position holding A-Q of spades. I raised $300. Three players called. The flop came 10 of diamonds, Queen of clubs, King of spades. The other players waited for me to act.
An early position pre-flop raise is usually administered with suited-connected high cards, or a pocket pair of high cards. I now had middle pair with the best kicker.
I thought: I'll set a trap - represent weakness and smooth call anybody's bet.
I check.
Headphone guy moves all-in for $1,400.
Oops! What could he have?
He surely didn't have a pocket pair of Qs or Ks because he would've moved me all-in before the flop. The same probably goes for A-K. If he had either pocket 10s or A-J unsuited (solid calling hands on a raised pot), why move all-in when he could trap me with a series of calling-induced bets?
The third player folded. Headphone guy saw me fingering my chips and knew I didn't have a pocket pair of 10s, Qs, Ks or an A-J, because I would've immediately called.
Since my paper fronted my entry fee, and a story about playing seven hands wouldn't justify their investment, I folded. Headphone guy probably had a King. It was the proper play. Sunglasses are amazing (I found out later he had a Queen).
There were 21 levels for this tournament, each lasting 50 minutes. Blinds increased after each level, with a short break after two consecutive levels. Almost 290 people entered, with the winner earning $44,450. At the first break, I had $1,100, down $400.
In the first two levels, I won an $850 pot with an Ace-high straight. Both players folded late in the hand and I never got paid off. I lost $600 on three calling hands in late position (pocket 9s and Q-J unsuited twice). When a large bet and two calls followed a flop of "over-cards," I folded all three.
Oops! What could he have?
He surely didn't have a pocket pair of Qs or Ks because he would've moved me all-in before the flop. The same probably goes for A-K. If he had either pocket 10s or A-J unsuited (solid calling hands on a raised pot), why move all-in when he could trap me with a series of calling-induced bets?
The third player folded. Headphone guy saw me fingering my chips and knew I didn't have a pocket pair of 10s, Qs, Ks or an A-J, because I would've immediately called.
Since my paper fronted my entry fee, and a story about playing seven hands wouldn't justify their investment, I folded. Headphone guy probably had a King. It was the proper play. Sunglasses are amazing (I found out later he had a Queen).
There were 21 levels for this tournament, each lasting 50 minutes. Blinds increased after each level, with a short break after two consecutive levels. Almost 290 people entered, with the winner earning $44,450. At the first break, I had $1,100, down $400.
In the first two levels, I won an $850 pot with an Ace-high straight. Both players folded late in the hand and I never got paid off. I lost $600 on three calling hands in late position (pocket 9s and Q-J unsuited twice). When a large bet and two calls followed a flop of "over-cards," I folded all three.
I started the third level with renewed enthusiasm, but crummy cards lingered into the fourth. My chip count then dwindled to $850. I had to make a move and put to use my sunglasses. Six players from our original group got knocked out within an hour, including headphone guy, and richer ones replaced them. A guy with sunglasses and bulging biceps was one of the replacements.
I waited patiently for a good hand to move all-in, which would double my chip stack. I soon discovered an A-K in the hole and went all-in. Other players would see that I'm short-stacked and call, thinking I was desperate. Nobody believed it, and I won $225 in blinds.
Before long, the $175 big blind returned to me. In seat No. 7, a bald-headed fellow with large biceps and killer sunglasses raised my blind to $500. I glanced at my cards. K-10 of spades.
"All in" I announced, tossing my final $950 into the pot. Biceps boy called the $450 raise with Q-J, unsuited. I was a slight favorite.
The flop came 5-3-4. Saaweet. No face cards and I'm a winner. The fourth card was a Jack. So much for being the favorite. I ripped my glasses off my head in disgust. It came down to the last card. Blank.
I finished 165th out of 287 players. Not even my mom would be proud. I knew there was a reason why I never owned any sunglasses.
- Jeremy Evans is a Tahoe Daily Tribune sports writer. He can be reached at (530) 542-8008 or by email at jevans@tahoedailytribune.com.
I waited patiently for a good hand to move all-in, which would double my chip stack. I soon discovered an A-K in the hole and went all-in. Other players would see that I'm short-stacked and call, thinking I was desperate. Nobody believed it, and I won $225 in blinds.
Before long, the $175 big blind returned to me. In seat No. 7, a bald-headed fellow with large biceps and killer sunglasses raised my blind to $500. I glanced at my cards. K-10 of spades.
"All in" I announced, tossing my final $950 into the pot. Biceps boy called the $450 raise with Q-J, unsuited. I was a slight favorite.
The flop came 5-3-4. Saaweet. No face cards and I'm a winner. The fourth card was a Jack. So much for being the favorite. I ripped my glasses off my head in disgust. It came down to the last card. Blank.
I finished 165th out of 287 players. Not even my mom would be proud. I knew there was a reason why I never owned any sunglasses.
- Jeremy Evans is a Tahoe Daily Tribune sports writer. He can be reached at (530) 542-8008 or by email at jevans@tahoedailytribune.com.
