A poker tournament is a lot like a boxing match. There is a considerable feeling out period at the beginning before the action picks up and mostly continues through to the end. The aggressor is typically the victor. How you handle getting hit, even knocked down, will ultimately determine your fate. And of course, landing the most punches, winning the most pots, will greatly benefit you in the end.
The $1k WSOP NL hold 'em tourney I played in June of 2009 played out in this manner. Even in one of the smaller buy-in tourneys, the action started slow, no one wanted to take any big risks. Everyone was kind of testing each other, probing here and there, tentatively putting out feelers to see what they could find out. The ebb and flow was jagged during these informational proceedings. I won a few pots and lost a few pots and was even on the scorecards as we entered the action stage of the fight.
Unfortunately, that stage involved me getting hit repeatedly. Jabs, crosses, body blows, they came from all angles. Every time I raised, someone re-raised and pretty soon my starting hands were resembling the flash cards we used in elementary school math class. 7 and 3, 8 and 4, 9 and 5. I simply didn't have the means to inflict any damage on my opponents. I was backed into a corner and in big trouble.
Then, like Rocky landing that first big shot against Drago, I drew some blood and fought back. I doubled up with KQ right before the dinner break to get some momentum. Fueled by landing that solid shot, I kept punching and the cards complied. I won three big pots with AK, AA and 88 over the next few hours, along with some other decent ones, and suddenly the tide had turned. I had my opponents on the ropes, landing some big shots, dodging all of theirs and dictating the pace of the action. We were nearing the end of the day and approaching the $$ and I was now well ahead on all three judges' scorecards.
They fought back some and landed a few shots on me, but I was still in full control when I found 10 10 and raised in early position. Two people called and the flop came down 753 with two spades. The big blind went-all in for about 1/3 of my stack. I went through the mental gymnastics and called him. He showed 99 and I was in great shape. The turn was an ace. I closed in. Ready to deliver the final uppercut. When suddenly... where did that overhand right come from??? A 9 fell on the river.
I was down. Stunned. Woozy. So much for momentum. I staggered to my feet and beat the count. But things had changed. I was off balance now. I tried to recapture all that was working previously but I misplayed one hand and was suddenly back on the ropes myself. Low on chips, short on time, No longer stalking my opponents, they were circling me and out for blood. When I got all in with KQ vs K9 on a KJ9 board, I was two punches away from being knocked out for good. A left and a right later and I was on the canvas and and out of the tournament.
Some losses are crueler than others, providing more "why didn't I and what if?" scenarios. But the end result is the same. Elimination. Tournament death. And way earlier than you thought it would be.
As you drag your bruised and battered body out of the tournament area, there is shame, there is guilt, there is sadness. You want to fight again, want to fight again soon. But right now, you need time to heal. Hopefully you'll get another shot. Maybe even a title shot. You know you'll need to work your way back up again. But your resolve is there. Even if it takes years, more years than you'd like, you'll do it. Because when you believe in a dream, you don't ever let it truly die.
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