It was the afternoon after the hangover. The day before I'd got to 22nd place (out of 163 entries, 15 places in the money and $4,000 for first place) at the Saturday Aria afternoon tourney. My AK off-suit-all in against his AQ off-suit. Flop comes down Q10x, turn another Q, then blank (am a 3-1 pre-flop favorite so can't complain).
A round earlier my KQ (46%) spiked a Q on the river against A6. A round earlier i'd made a questionable three way all-in: K10, QQ to my AJ (I read the hand correctly but decided the potential triple-up was worth the risk at this point in the tournament). [Note:20/20 hindsight it was not the correct play as i was only a few places out of the money and didn't really need to gamble at that point].
So now 16 hours after getting bounced near the bubble, The WSOP crowd is gone and it looks like only 60 or 70 entries. Sort of like a bad road team playing a sold out Yankee Stadium and then coming home to 12,000 scattered fans in a seemingly cavernously hollow ball park.
So i sit down at the table a realize that all the good player had gone home and these were the "what the hell I'll play a hold'em tournament for a few hours" weekend warriors. So ten minutes into the first round I peek at J10 suited clubs and make a modest raise of $250 and get re-raised to $600 by the eight seat. Now this guy obviously had a big hand (one of those where you can actually see him make a jerky move due to an adrenaline rush). I call the raise and the flop comes down:
It was at this moment that a thought wafted through my head. 'I think even the best players in their prime have off days.' (Now my subconscious and conscious meet on the mount and wonder why am i thinking this).
The made hand bets $2,000. I call resignedly and say. "Aces full boat?"
Lamenting the lost $125 entry fee as i leave the Aria 1pm tournament at 1:20 it only takes me 5 minutes to realize that I just didn't feel like playing and then I wondered if the "real" Doyle Brunson ever has days like this?