Over the last few years, I’ve developed a strong preference for cash game poker over tournament poker. When asked why I don’t like tournaments, the quick answer is “because they always end abruptly.”
I find that irritating. Last night I made it to the final table of a private tournament that started with 33 players. Seven remain. There is a little extra at stake, as this is the final tournament of a year-long poker league. The league winner is determined by points that are awarded based on each player’s finishing position in each tournament. The points leader is also among the final seven, and I’m in second place overall. If I finish two spots higher than him in this tournament, I’ll be tied for the points lead. Winning the points title is worth a little over $2,500 (for larger tournament entry fees + travel costs), so I’m pretty motivated to win this game-within-a-game.
He’s trying to wait me out, folding virtually every hand and now severely short stacked with only two or three big blinds remaining. I have more chips than he does, but also less than 5 BBs.
Everyone folds to the player on my right, who is on the button. For purposes of this blog, I’ll refer to him as “Gary.” He raises. In the small blind, I have pocket aces. Then we are all-in.
Gary also is one of my best friends. After he wins the tournament, he says “don’t be mad, I’ll buy you a beer.”
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