POKER On a roll at a four-max event

In early June, I played the $2,500 four-max event at the World Series of Poker. There had never been a four-max event (no more than four players per table) at the WSOP, and many were concerned about the potential turnout.

Short-handed events draw fewer entrants than full-table events, but professionals strongly prefer structures that allow them to play more hands.

The bulk of my experience is in full ring tournaments, so the structure likely put me at a disadvantage against cash players who spent years grinding six-max games online, at least before Black Friday came along and shattered everyone’s dreams. But all concerns about whether I should have played the event were obliterated within a few hours of the start. The tournament drew a healthy 750 players, and I was winning every substantial hand I played.

During the $100-$200 level, I was moved to a new table and found myself next to a young European who was playing aggressively. Soon after I arrived, the two of us began raising each other back and forth in a hand where we were the two blinds, leading to an all-in from me for $21,000. My opponent had me covered and called, and my A-K was slightly behind his J-J until the dealer whipped over a king-high flop. My opponent never found his jack, and I suddenly had a ton of chips in front of me.

The momentum continued, and my stack steadily grew. Surprisingly, I was mostly unfamiliar with my table in a tournament that was packed with name professionals. The European on my left continued to play hard, but every time we it mixed up, I seemed to make the best hand.

By the time I found myself involved in another major pot, I had nearly $100,000. My opponent in the hand, Dustin Fox of Reno, had about $50,000, and the blinds were $200-$400 with a $25 ante. I was first to act and raised with 10 ♣ 10 ♠ , and he called from the big blind.

The flop came 10 ♦ 8 ♠ 4 ♣ , and when my opponent checked, I bet $1,000. He check-raised to $2,600, and I decided to just call.

The turn brought the disconcerting 6 ♥ , which worried me because I thought one of the most likely hands he would check-raise me with was 9-7. Fox bet $4,600, and I just called again.

The river was the perfect 4 ♦ , and my opponent quickly slid a bet of $12,000 into the pot. I gave him the obligatory I’m-thinking-about-something-besides-how-excited-I-am-stare, then announced that I was all in.

This didn’t sit well with Fox, who let out a long sigh. He was aware that for me to shove over his bet on the river, I either had a full house or a bluff. I would never shove a hand like A-A for value, so it came down to whether I had flopped a set. After much agonizing, Fox tossed a single chip into the pot to indicate that he was calling. When I tabled my hand, he gave it a look of resignation, then flashed the 9-7 that I knew he had when he couldn’t decide what to do after I raised on the river.

For the rest of my career, I doubt I’ll ever have as many chips in front of me as the $150,000 I had going into the $250-$500 level at the WSOP four-max event. But on the second day of the event, my seemingly infinite supply of quality hand endings finally ran out, and I lost a coin flip with A-Q suited against 8-8 to bust out in 18th place.