WSOP 2009 Reflection

My desire to recap the WSOP 2009 diminishes rapidly as the memory of Friday’s bustout grows distant and seems less relevant. The post-bustout consolation of having a couple of friends to sweat in the main event is also gone, now that Owen Crowe and Jordan Morgan have been eliminated too.

That leaves my primary rooting interest with Jeff Shulman, the only one of the 27 remaining players in the main event with whom I’ve had any social connection. Some might remember that Shulman had a really good shot at this same title in 2000, before the poker boom, and before Chris Ferguson beat him with 66 vs 77 and then Jeff ran KK into AA in the event. Ferguson went on to win, and I sometimes wonder how much different the poker world might be if Jeff had scooped the event that year.

Besides Jeff, I guess my rooting interest turns to Phil Ivey, probably the greatest natural poker player of all time whose persona doesn’t require any kind of noise to grab people’s attention.

Besides that, a handful of young “internet” players are still fighting for the big payday, and although I don’t know them personally, I would be happy to see Jamie Robbins, Joseph Cada, Andrew Lichtenberger or Nick Maimone (in descending order of chip count) go the distance.

***

Overall, the WSOP 2009 seemed to pass by in a time warp in which the entire six-week stretch felt simultaneously dense and expansive and then just disappeared in a moment, leaving whatever constitutes “reality” in its place. Playing a major tournament almost every day for several weeks offers a distinct sense of direction and purpose for the time period, but as easily as the stress and ponderous nature of the work becomes all-encompassing, it evaporates at an equal rate into the stale desert air, and now I just wonder where the time went.

In any case, I didn’t have too much fun this year. I played tennis against Tony Dunst one evening a few weeks ago, and he expressed a very positive and carefree attitude towards the whole experience. “To me,” he said, “I look at it like a win-win: either I do well in the tournament or I bust out and then go out and do fun things,” like, he told me, going to the gym, going out nights picking up women, drinking, shopping, etc. As he laid out his recipe for balance and ongoing satisfaction, I just looked at him.

I wish I could have adopted the same attitude, but I was focused strictly on making money while in Vegas, and I basically failed at that, too, having cashed in only one of the 19 events I played and spent all the money I earned in satellites on living expenses. The possibility of creating a fun, healthy balance while trying to make money playing poker freezouts every day felt miles away.

As for the fun aspects, I did get out to the movies a few times, and I also got onto the tennis court and went bowling a handful of times (but far less than I would have liked). There was also that one enjoyable day I spent with friends on Lake Mead, but that was early in the Series when the upcoming summer still felt full of possibilities.

During a brief trip home, I took my waterski out of the garage and put it into my car, expecting to have at least one more run on Lake Mead when I got back to Nevada. The zipper to the bag that carries my waterski was rusted shut, and I never had the occasion to cut it open either. Instead I just rolled around Vegas with a slalom ski in the trunk of my car for several weeks.

Of course, the WSOP is still unique on a number of levels. I can’t remember a year where more individuals put up mind-boggling results as this year, and even without that, there is still a distinct aura that surrounds the WSOP that will probably have me returning each year even if I never cash another event (and despite the fact that the competition this year seemed distinctly tougher than any year I’ve attended since 2005).

In the end, 19 tournaments is still only 19 tournaments, and even though the energy required to put into those tournaments can leave a poker player feeling empty and lost after it’s all done, keeping perspective on the whole thing is still the only aspect one can really control.

Even during the torturous early levels of the main event, when my stack dropped to 10K and it felt like an early exit was inevitable, I looked around the room and took stock: Six years ago, I was basically just another slack-jawed poker fan working a day job, watching this unique event unfold in the form of an ESPN broadcast.

Today I not only have the opportunity to compete in the event but also a reasonable chance of winning it. I am in a fortunate spot to have been able to play poker and the WSOP for the past five years, and if I make it out in 2010 for my sixth year and have another shitty series, I’ll still consider myself incredibly lucky to have been able to participate.

***

Thanks once again to Cory Albertson for hosting my WSOP blogs at PokerTips.org, and this will most likely be the last entry that appears on that site for 2009.