Goldie Locks and the Two Bears

Three handed for nearly an hour; heads up for another hour. Three very different players at the table. One of the hardest satellites I'd ever played.

50 000 chips in play. Only first place receives at seat in Party's Million Dollar Guaranteed.

Seat Ten was aggressive. Damn aggressive. I'd say too aggressive, but the fucker was winning 70% of the pots. He'd raise every single hand. And if anyone had the temerity to call him, he'd put them all-in on the flop. He was nigh impossible to play against.

Seat Seven was tight. Damn tight. I'd say too tight, but even though he'd win about 5% of pots, he was still there, hanging on: a short stack when the final table started, and a short stack now. I saw him play two hands three handed: JJ and KK. He'd wait and wait and wait, and just when you think he was on auto-fold, he'd double himself up.

And there I was, a playing style somewhere in between the two. I would've like to be the more aggressive, but seat Ten had most of the chips and I was forced to pick my spots (the chip break-up was approximately 30 000 (seat Ten), 14 000 (The Royal Sampler), and 6000 (seat Seven). As Ten would raise every hand; I'd wait until I hand any pair, any Ace, or a King and another big card, and come of the top. This kept me slightly ahead of even.

This went on for a long, long time. The chip stacks were not really changing, but the blinds were increasing and the night wearing on - something had to break. Fortunately, it was the chip leader. He'd been making a lot of comments in the chat box, and these comments had progressively gotten angrier ("play a XXXXing hand"; "This is boring"; I have to go to bed"; "wow - we get to see a flop" and so on). I knew that it was getting to him that he just could not knock either of us out. Then he started making mistakes.

I raised pre-flop with 99 and he called. The flop came down A62 and he pushed. I just didn't believe he had the ace. He most certainly would not have bet so big if he did have it - so I called. He showed Q8 and failed to improve. Now his chip lead had been cut right down.

Then I checked A8 on a flop of AQ7, seat Ten bet, I re-raised all-in, and he called with A4. Unfortunately another 7 hit the river and we split. I could understand him making the call here, but his game was deteriorating - and fast. I started coming over the top of him more often, and his confidence seemed to waver.

Then I won a huge pot when my A8 held up against his A7, and when, the very next hand, I got him all-in with 55 against my JJ, it looked like the long time chip leader would be off to the rail. Of course, poker is a bitch, so a 5 flopped and I was knocked back down to about 14 000.

Ten, however, didn't seem to keen to use his new found lead wisely. I doubled through when A6s held up against his KJ (the very next hand), and knocked him out the following hand when he put me all-in when I was holding AJ and he had... 82o. I guess he must have been tired.

Now it was me and the sleeper. He hadn't made a single comment in the chat box, and didn't respond when I gave him the obligatory 'gl' when it got down to heads up.

So I pounded him. I bet and bet and bet and ground him down. And he just kept folding. He seemed content to wait me out.

He got his chance when we saw a flop of A88 - I thought my AQs would be good, but his 86 smashed me in the groin and he doubled up. Shit.

Then my two pair (Kings and Twos) got done by his two pair (Kings and Tens) and I was down to a few thousand chips. Fuck.

So I did what anyone would do with a short stack against a against a tight player: I bet myself out of trouble. I just bit the bullet and bet, raised and pushed whenever I felt weakness. And it worked. Without any major hands going down I managed to grind my way into the chip lead.

Then he hit a set when I had top pair and it was back to square one.

And this is the way it went for the next two levels - I would bully my way to a big chip lead, then I would hit a big hand - and run into a monster (at one stage we both flopped a straight - but his was higher). But as far as I was concerned my aggression was paying off: I had enough chips behind me so when I took a big hit, I could pick myself up off the canvas and go another round. He didn't have that luxury. By ceding so much of the action to me he had nothing to fall back on if one of his big hands didn't hold up.

Soon he was down to a few thousand. Even by his ultra-right standards, he would simply have to play a hand soon. I had him, I fucking had him.

Then connection went down.

("not now, god not now, no no no no"). It went down for some time ("are you fucking serious?"). And i just knew my opponent, after realising my link had gone down, was raising every fucking hand (would i do the same? I don't know. Maybe. I'm not Andrew Black; but I do like to win straight up). By some quirk of the internet, when my connection eventually came back, it flipped through all the hands I'd auto-folded - AK, KQ, QQ, AT - no, I'm no lying.

A became a bit light-headed. Spittle started to fly from my lips everytime I swore. I found strange comfort from the cracking sound the mouse made everytime I slammed it against the desk. I imagined dousing my opponent's house in kerosene and dancing to the towering flames as the night burned red.

I guess I was tilting a little.

And I just couldn't get the fucker down. Silent, patient, watchful: maybe he was a fucking bot. We were approaching the 1500/3000 level and had fought ourselves to a standstill (three-handed play had started at the 150/300 stage). I seemed to be winning most of the pots, yet we remained even in chips. Must have lost a big pot in there somewhere - just can't remember it now. I was starting to feel I couldn't take this bastard out.

So I did what any tired, tilting, desperate cardsman would do in the same situation - I sucked out. I put all my chips in the middle with 55 - he turned over 88. I groaned and sagged back in my chair, then yelped with glee when a 5 hit the turn, and punched the air when all the chips hovered over to my seat.

And of my opponent - who had fought so tenaciously, who had played a short stack so well, who had never given up - I thought: 'fuck you'. Fuck magnanimous, I'm too tired.

So I'm back to square 2: The Million Dollar Tournament.

Let's do it.