The WSOP So Far

Here’s a rundown of the 2026 WSOP for me so far.

As I wrote a few weeks ago, I cashed in the first WSOP tournament I played this year. Unfortunately, my work schedule kept me from playing in other tournaments since then, so I did what anyone in my position would do. I quit on my largest client[1].

Note: if you want a reference for poker lingo, click here.

The Senior Bad Beat

It’s hard for me to believe that I qualify for senior tournaments, but at 66 I do. I don’t usually play in senior tournaments for the reason that if I win, it seems like I’ll have an asterisk by my name. People will think, “Sure, you won against a bunch of sleepy, drooling old farts, but can you actually play poker?” But this year, it seems like the senior tournaments were the only ones that fit into my schedule so far.

In this one, I built my stack up to be one of the largest in the tournament, shortly before the money. I felt very good. Then a player sat at my table with a slightly larger stack. He raised under the gun. I had pocket 7s, so I called his raise. The flop was 7 10 J. I had hit a set! I checked. He did a small bet of about $10K, two big blinds. I raised to about $50K or one third of my stack. He instantly shoved. Now, I hadn’t seen him play, so I didn’t know if he was a crazy player or not. I’ve seen players shove with two pair and with top pair with an ace kicker. He might have had pocket As or Ks. He could have had 89 for a straight, but then he’d probably just call my bet to keep me in the hand. But maybe not. And if I was up against a straight, I still had two cards to possibly pair the board and win with a full house. Sets are rare, so it crossed my mind briefly that he might have a bigger set, but I felt I couldn’t fold my set, so I called. Looking back, I violated my rule that folding a winning hand is much better than playing a losing one. I called, and he turned over pocket Js. He had hit a bigger set. I packed my things and left, going from giant stack to nothing in one hand. Let me know in the comments whether I screwed up or just got unlucky.

My Arch Nemesis

In one of these tournaments, I sat at the table with my arch nemesis, Bob Mather. Well, maybe “arch nemesis” is a bit too strong. About 10 years ago, I played in a major World Poker Tour tournament series at Thunder Valley Casino outside Sacramento. It was one of the first major tournament series in my poker career. In one tournament, I kept getting into hands with him, and he kept winning no matter what I had. My stack was shrinking. Finally I had been dealt 8♦8♥, I think. We went heads up when the board ran out something like 10♠J♣6♦A♠K♠. I don’t remember the exact cards, but it was a really bad board for me. I had about 4 big blinds left and shoved them, hoping that maybe I actually had the winning cards. He called with an A or K or a Q or two spades or some other winning combination. I said, “I just can’t seem to win against you,” as I stood up.

He looked at me and said, very patronizingly, “You amateurs just don’t know how to play! Have you heard of ‘a chip and a chair’? Never throw away your chips! You could have played another hand and come back. You should learn from people like me. Do you know how many tournaments I’ve won?”

According to Hendon Mob, he’d won only one tournament at that time. I found his attitude really arrogant, and busting out doesn’t put me in a good mood anyway. I later went up to him and thanked him for his advice. After busting out of that tournament, I entered another tournament and got my best place in a WPT tournament to date, second place. Bob is widely regarded as a nice guy by other players, and I don’t actually have any lasting animosity toward him, but that statement sticks in my head. In every other time we’ve played at the same table since then, I’ve outlasted him, and this time I got to bust him out. It felt good.

The “Legend”

At yet another senior’s tournament, this one at the Venetian Casino, there was an old man at my table who played terribly. Tall and thin, I’d estimate his age to be late eighties or even nineties. He spoke very little, in a foreign accent, and when he spoke it was about political conspiracy theories. He claimed to know the truth about these things because he watched media “that wasn’t controlled by the government.” I didn’t bother asking how he knew which media were and which weren’t.

This player did just about everything wrong. He hardly played any hands. When he did, if everyone checked around to him, he’d do a giant bet. When you bluff, you need to have a story. For example, if you led out the betting pre-flop, your story can be that you have an ace so that when an ace appears on the board and everyone checks, you can bluff that you have an ace. You have to bluff enough chips to get anyone not holding an ace to fold, but not so much that if someone actually is holding an ace and they raise, you can fold without having lost too much. But he would bet too big each time, signaling that he was bluffing. Anyone raising would get him to fold. He just kept losing chips very slowly. I was patiently awaiting my time to take chips from him with the right hand and the right circumstances, but it never came.

Finally, with about ten big blinds, he called a min raise. The flop was 366. Everyone checked. The turn was 4. He threw his remaining chips, about 6 big blinds, into the pot. One player called with, predictably, a 6. He turned over 34, calmly began gathering his things. At least he recognized that he was drawing dead; there was no card that he could win with. In fact, even before the turn, only running 3s that would give him quad 3s, would save him from any 6 or any pair greater than deuces.

As got up, I gave him my usual “Nice playing with you.” As he walked away, one player said, “There goes a legend.” I said, “In what? Certainly not poker.” He said, “Yes, he’s poker legend Marcell Luske, one of the greatest Dutch players of all time.”

I said, “Maybe he used to be a legend, but he’s not now. He played terribly.”

“He played great. He just got bad cards.”

“Why did he shove? Doesn’t he know about a chip and a chair?” Wait, why does that sound familiar?

“He shoved because he was short stacked.”

“First, you don’t shove with 34 off suit, one of the worst possible hands. Second, if you’re going to shove with a short stack, you do it pre-flop when maybe people are afraid to call you. Third, you don’t shove with a counterfeited pair.” A counterfeited pair means a bigger pair on the board so that your smaller pair doesn’t count in the hand. I looked up Marcell Luske on Wikipedia. As of 2017, his career poker earnings were $1.7 million. Top professionals earn that in one year. He held no tournament titles, no first place wins, and had only 54 cashes. In my 9 years of non-professional play, I already have 114 cashes and two first place titles. And I’m not very good!

The Super Senior Bubble Boy

It’s harder for me to believe I actually qualify for the Super Senior tournament for anyone over 60. Wow, how did I get so old? It’s a multi-day tournament, and I made it all the way through Day 1 with a stack just above average. It was a really soft field, truth be told, just like the young kids say. In other words, everyone played really conservatively with little bluffing and not much betting. I was able to take advantage of that nicely. For example, I could often limp in with any hand and get to see the flop. If someone raised pre-flop, I knew they had a great hand. One “elderly lady” (maybe only 10 years older than me I think) rarely bet. She was two players to my left. If I was on the button and she was in the big blind position, it was almost guaranteed that If no one had bet and I raised to two or three big blinds, she would fold. I collected a lot of chips from her. The day actually seemed too easy even though I wasn’t getting many great starting hands.

Day 2 started at 11 AM, but no one would get paid until we got down to 499 players from the original 3.327 players. We had about 337 to eliminate before then. At about 3:15 PM, we were “on the bubble” with 501 players—two players to go. That bubble lasted for at least one torturous hour as we played hand-for-hand, where all of the remaining 56 tables played one hand and stopped until all tables had completed the hand. After about an hour without having lost a single player, yours truly got dealt 4♦6♦ in the big blind. I had about $100K (20 big blinds) left in my stack and two of them went into the pot already as the big blind and ante payments. The under-the-gun player had about $110K (22 big blinds) and min raised. I knew he had a great hand because 1) no one bets unnecessarily on the bubble except the biggest stack at the table who knows few players will call him, and 2) the biggest stack was immediately to his left who could easily raise or shove. Everyone folded around to me, and I figured I’d put in another $5K to see the flop. The flop was 4♥6♣7♠. I knew my two pair was ahead, so I shoved. To my delight, the other player called.

When you’re on the bubble, you don’t reveal your cards until all other tables have completed their hands. This prevents other players from changing their play based on knowing whether another table had a player who might bust out. So when all play was complete, the announcer came to our table and announced the cards over the loudspeaker. We showed our cards. It sounded funny when the announcer said, “It’s kings against four six.” Everyone must have been scratching their heads. But the other player had exactly the kind of hand I knew he had before he showed the cards.

The odds were almost 3:1 in my favor. He had two chances to get a K or 7 to beat me. The turn was a 3. The odds were now 4:1 in my favor, but he had a new out. He had one chance to get a K, a 7, or a 3 to beat me. The river was... a 7. Everyone at the table fist bumped me and said “GG” (“good game”) as I got up and packed my things. As the announcer gave the results to the remaining 500 players, a shout went up. As I walked from the last row of tables to the hall doorway, I waved to the crowd with both arms outstretched, twisting from side to side. In return, I got waves, fist bumps, and cries of thanks and adulation. I had brought them all one player closer to the money.

I hope to enter the Mystery Bounty tournament later this week and then the Main Event next week. I’ll keep you informed.

Bob Zeidman is a high-stakes recreational poker player. He created Good Beat Poker, a free online poker site using patented technology for audio and video—see and hear the other players at the table if you choose.

[1] It’s actually a more complicated story. Maybe one day I’ll write about it.