The Nutter's EPT: London Experience
Last week, the European Poker Tour came to London, with the big-name stars bringing glitz and aggression from America, as well as all over Europe. Now at the start of its fourth season, the EPT had seen another rise in the buy-in, to a whopping £5,200. This increase was seen by some as being needlessly restrictive, but it is justified to some extent by the fact that the 392-player field was a near sell-out. Prize pools in poker now seem continually to break records; with over £2million at stake, however, the atmosphere at the Vic Casino in London was of another new dawn in poker.
I was lucky enough to qualify through a poker satellite, and could use some “nothing to lose” spirit to neutralise the overwhelming feeling of playing against the best in the game. Patrik Antonius and Johnny Lodden would head the challenge from the young, ice-cool Scandinavian contingent. The Americans would strike fear in the shape of last year’s EPT champion Gavin Griffin, and the friendly but ruthless Daniel Negreanu. The English would provide no respite, with old-school characters and experts of the game like Surinder Sunar and the Hendon Mob’s Ram Vaswani hungry for the challenge. No mercy would be shown, no raised eyebrow, nor quickened pulse, go unnoticed.
I travelled to the Vic to put up my own small challenge on Wednesday, in excitement and in fear. The familiar surroundings of the English capital contrasted with the international threat that was to come. Whilst poker has exploded in the last few years on our television screens and into the national psyche, it clearly still has boundaries to overcome. It seemed a bizarre situation that a mutli-million pound poker game could be happening on the Edgware Road, when the heartbeat of London society, the cabbies, knew nothing at all of it.
The taxi-drivers were missing a great show; TV stars, European masters, and the odd new hopeful were collected together with all the fanfare of international media. The hyperbole and in-your-face excitement of this American game struck a strange contrast in this country of modesty and understatement, but the combination was an exciting one.
Sweaty-palmed but raring to go, I sat down at my starting table, and took in the faces around me. The shaven-head pro Peter Eichardt would bring Finnish fearlessness to the table, two young blonde-haired Swedes were bound to add uncertainty in the shape of well-timed re-raises, and England’s Ram Vaswani would threaten with his world-class timing.
Ram would amazingly be the first victim of the table, after a series of difficult and frustrating hands. It just showed that trap door in poker is constantly looming for all, and can quickly claim even the top pros.
By the time of his exit, I was feeling far more settled after a very fortunate cooler hand of my own. The joy of looking down at a pair of aces was heightened when a third ace fell on the 
flop. With a deep starting stack of 10,000 chips, I took my chance to create a big pot, and bet straight out for 150 with my top set. I was rewarded with a call from a sun-glassed Italian player, and a jack of spades on the next card to make a full house. There seemed something even more encouraging about this second jack, and another big bet was called by the motionless Italian. A queen fell on the last card, and I tried desperately to keep my own calmness at the sight of the 
board, knowing that I held the top full house.
Holding the big hand in these situations, it is almost as likely that a big bet will be called as a small one; so, I bet out 800, the size of the growing pot. The Italian reached for his chips, as I willed him to call. Then a shock; the Italian was not calling, but re-raising!
As he raised it 2,000 more, it was clear that he could not hold four jacks to beat me, but had the misfortune to hold a lower full-house. I was in the unusually comfortable position of deciding how much I could extract from him. He seemed to have enough class to get away if I tried for the whole lot, and so I re-raised the action 4,000 more. It was impressive that he had a knowing grimace on his face as he eventually called, but it would have been very difficult for him to get away from his QJ full house.
It was the kind of hand that even a movie scriptwriter would throw out for being unrealistic, but it gave me the perfect start. Things seemed to get even better when I raised with pocket eights, and hit a set on the 
flop. I bet out for 700, but was given a problem when my bet was re-raised to 2,200. The perpetrator was a young Indian-Swede, and his expressionless face would provide no clues. He sat stony faced, and handled his chips with all the confidence of someone who has crushed the online game. I called, and we saw the 
on the turn. The Swede bet out 4,000; he did not flinch; he looked so impassive as to even look a little bored. It was clear from his aggressive game that I could still be ahead, and even if he did have a straight, I had outs to make a full house. I called, and the 
on the river provided no help. The board read , and the Swede pushed his remaining chips into the middle. This would be an easy pass against most, but I was sure he had the courage to make this move with a busted flush draw.
I made what turned out to be an awful call, and the he turned over came as a dagger to the heart.
There is a good argument for actually not betting my hand on the flop, because of this potential dilemma I can get into. However, I had to put this thought behind me quickly, and take my diminished stack to a new table.
Ronald De Wolfe and Praz Bansi seemed the main threats, until a chirpy Daniel Negreanu sat down at the table a few minutes later. He is a genuinely lovely fellow, and does a brilliant job of disguising his world-class insight into the game with continual, friendly banter. It puts people at ease, and allows him to get extra information out of their responses. I would do my best to stand firm, and not talk myself into his trap.
Lucky to be able to avoid confrontation with the top players, I called a small raise with 
against a Dutch player, and was gifted with a flop. I planned to keep the action slow in an effort to get all the chips into the pot, but there was no need as the Dutchman held 
for the top pair, and understandably did not get away from my eventual all-in bet. I had been allowed a way back into the tournament, and would take my doubled 15,000 stack to a new table for the last two hours of play.
Liz Lieu was the familiar face at the table, but I found myself sandwiched between two German players even younger than me, who represented the changing face of European poker. With a few minutes of play remaining, these two chums, Sebastian Ruthenberg and Florian Langmann, would go three-way to the flop with me in blinds and button encounter. I held 
, and hit middle pair on the 
flop. Two of us checked to Ruthenberg on the button, who bet 1,200. I felt I may well be ahead, and called, but Langmann got in the way of my plans with a check-raise to 3,700. To my surprise, Ruthenberg raised the action again, 4,500 more; I was suspicious, but knew I was up against two possible threats, and folded my middle pair. Langmann also folded, and flashed an ace, which prompted Ruthenberg to show 
, a brave outright bluff. I had not been winning in the hand, but I knew that, if I read the action right and moved all-in, both players would surely have had to pass. It was a hand which showed the kind of insight required to win one of these EPTs.
My frustration was mixed with relief as I came to the end of an exhausting day with 14,900 chips. 110 players would return for Day 2, and I could join them with overnight dreams of glory.
The previous day’s overflowing card room had turned into a more compact eleven tables, and the pressure had been intensified. I knew my best chance for success was to put everything at risk straight away, and get busy with all-in moves. I had some success as the early action was tight, but soon had to call a short stack all-in myself when he moved in on my big blind. It was frustrating that the maths obliged me to call with 
, and further so that the 
board provided no help against his .
I had a reasonable 18,000 stack, but the rising blinds and antes compelled me to push my whole stack into the middle a few more times. I was eventually caught when I moved in with , but was glad to see I had live cards against my opponent’s . An emphatic hit the flop, however, and I was gone in 80th place. I would soon reflect on a fun and uplifting couple of days, but for a few minutes experienced despair of the sudden exit, and thoughts of what might have been.
Back to Poker News | 32Red Poker Blog
