I Miss Annette_15

The Fresh Fish mines some gold, but can't help pining for the company of Annette_15 along the way...

21 November 2007 by Warren Wooldridge

The day after Vicky Coren won the London EPT I joked to anyone that would listen that it could have been me. Not because I was unlucky or played badly but because Vicky and I were on the same table late on day one and when they broke our table she chose the winning ticket; I chose one that saw me go out next hand.

The biggest loss for me though is that an already well regarded poker celebrity would now elevate to truly iconic status resulting in even greater demands on her time than before. We frequently clashed across the green baize at the Vic and now our paths hardly cross. I miss the challenge and excitement that those encounters brought.

And so it is with Annette_15.

Last night I played in the nightly 50 grand on PokerStars, an extremely popular tournament that Annette_15 used to play every single night. We clashed on more than one occasion, but most memorably when ‘I Spent The Night With Annette_15’.

In the seconds before the tournament started I scrolled the player list in a vain attempt to find the teenage prodigy from Sandness. Alas, she was not there. She has of course gone on to bigger and better things and I think it will be a long time before she graces this particular tournament again. And so with a touch of anti climax I began playing against a bunch of people that I didn’t know.

I admit that my heart wasn’t really in it as the prospect of outlasting more than 1,300 players seemed more daunting than usual. It may explain why after half an hour and with my original 3,000 stack now sitting at an impressive 4,500 I entered a battle of the blinds with the mouthy chip leader of our table who I regret to say was also from London. I hope that I don’t know him and that he doesn’t know me!

In the small blind I limped with

and he raised from the big blind from 100 to 400. I insta called. The flop came down

and I moved all in for 4,100 more! This was about table image and getting him to quieten down more than trying to double up. To my amazement he called immediately for more than 60% of his chips with

. My hand held up and was the catalyst for 15 minutes non stop abuse until he slaughtered his remaining chips on some obscure draw. I was up and running with my passion rekindled.

The second hour saw my stack grow to 20,000. With a minute to go before the second break I was dealt

in late position and knocked a short stack out when miraculously no ace materialised to connect with his

.

The very next hand, the last before the break, I was dealt

. Now obviously when I raised this time human nature decreed that no one thought I could possibly have had a hand as I had just shown down KK. 4 players called before the button pushed all in for just over 10,000. Win this pot and I am chip leader in the whole tournament. All looked good against his

until the river delivered the fateful

. I didn’t take it well. If it hadn’t been for the break I’d be looking for a new laptop today!

Back in the middle of the pack I was more in survival mode than anything else, and the ridiculous pay structure meant that 180 would get paid. This milestone passed off without too much drama and I remained around the average chip count as we dipped below the 100 remaining players.

In yet another battle of the blinds I played badly and got lucky. I merely made up the small blind with

and my opponent checked it down. The flop came

. I checked and he bet the minimum. I flat called. The turn brought a

. I checked and now the big blind bet half my stack (he had me covered). I pushed all in and he flipped

. Whoops.

The river came to my rescue by pairing the

and I had flukily managed a full double up. Now in the top 20, I had hopes of final tabling for the first time all tournament. Despite being completely distracted by the latest episode of ‘Spooks’ [Ed: Interesting, as we hear Mrs W is always being told it is bad to watch Spooks whilst playing the Poker Verdict League Tournaments…] I somehow remained well above average as we hit the hand for hand 10 player mark.

As I switched the television off the chip leader raised my big blind for the 3rd consecutive round from the cut off. I defend with

and bugger me if the flop doesn’t bring

. I checked and Mr Big Stack over bet the pot 3 fold. Happy days!

The turn brought a

. I checked and he moved all in. I called and he flipped

. It doesn’t have to be this painful, surely? The river failed to pair the board and Fresh Fish was the new chip leader. The short stack departed on the next hand and we had reached the potentially serious money.

I dominated the table from 9 players to 5 and then all hell broke loose. I had 1.2 million in chips, 3 others had around 500,000 and the short stack had 140,000. The blinds were 10,000 – 20,000 with a running 2,000. The short stack pushed all in 5 consecutive times without being called to rise to 340,000. On the 6th occasion I decided, as table policeman, I had to keep him honest with

. He flipped

and no miracle ensued. The vitriol from the loser had to be seen to be believed. It made me laugh because as he was no longer at the table it came up in the chat box as from an observer. It quite reminded me of the hundreds of railbirds who were watching Annette_15 the last time we played. He disappeared eventually to let the final 4 get on with it.

Just as it went quiet a truly horrible hand came along. Although almost a million chips clear of the second, I didn’t particularly fancy him calling my raise with

. When he went all in I felt pot committed to call and was delighted to see him flip

. More so when the first card off the deck was a

. The final board of

was not so clever. Mr Runner Runner went on a complete rush and knocked out the remaining two players.

Starting the heads up, he enjoyed a 2:1 chip advantage. He was so confident and aggressive it was hard to explain, except perhaps that he came from Athens. He won the first 7 pots to get to 2.5 million to my 500,000. With more than $6,000 difference between first and second I resigned myself to another final hurdle defeat.

As this was all going wrong at a rate of knots I justified what I was about to do by recalling some distant advice of Negreanu’s where he mentions that you shouldn’t allow yourself to get so low that you effectively have to double up more times than is feasible. $500,000 seemed to me about as low as it should get and so I pushed all in with