The curious case of Mister 2,2,3
I've just arrived back from another WSOP trip, and I've got plenty of time for a blog since Im severely suffering from jet lag. I forced my self to stay awake until 10pm, which was a huge struggle. Two hours later Bambi's eyes are only the second biggest set of eyes I've ever seen. Going on Day 3, I decided I might as well spend this time constructively instead of watching shows on Netflix.
On this trip we were accompanied by a bunch of friends who were purely in it for the fun of it--no poker and close to not even any gambling on the trip. One of the friends was very impressed about the fact that you can play "War," so he couldn't resist that, but besides that, no gambling.
Vegas will be ruthless to guys like that. Don't get me wrong. Vegas will be even more ruthless to the guys who party and gamble, but these guys are still drawing dead. The great and hilarious thing is that they just have no idea what is about to hit them. First of all, the nine-hour time difference doesn't really help their case. Secondly, going out until 9am the very first night you get in and drinking loads of Red Bull to get through does not make it easier for these guys to adjust.
My favorite dude (read: the guy who makes me laugh the most without ever trying to be funny) from this crew slept 2, 2 and 3 hours the first three nights. He never had a clue what hit him. This is also the same dude who weeks ahead was talking about all the nice restaurants there were in Vegas and how he should pretty much try every single one of them. Well, he ate seven out of 10 times at Holstein which is the burger joint at our hotel. Another of the guys had a long list of things he had to see in Vegas. He made one, which, by the way was only by coincidence! The amusement you get out of these guys has huge potential for a new MasterCard commercial. It's priceless.
Once before "Mister 2,2,3 Hours of Sleep" had joined us for a poker tour, PokerStars EPT Berlin this spring. While he was there, I had the most insane batting average: 13 out of 13 football bets, which is insane. But if that wasn't enough, every single decision I made in the main event was right, and I never lost a flip.
By the time he had to leave with another friend and my dad, we were in the money, and I had around double average. He was seriously considering staying purely because of superstition, which I found funny. One hour and 20 minutes later while they were still in midair, I busted and found it a little less funny.
This main event? The same thing happened. For three days, I cant recall making a mistake that cost any more than a couple of big blinds. I connected with flops like it was the most natural thing, which, overall, makes poker pretty easy.
By the dinner break on Day 3, I'm in top 20 of the entire tournament with more than double average.
And this is where the party patrol, including "Mr. 2,2,3" leaves town.
Once again he starts talking about staying, reminding me and what happened in Berlin. And, once again, I found it funny.
Seventy-five minutes, two bad beats, and a lay down with top straight on a paired board later, I found it once again less funny. I found myself walking to the taxi stand while the tourney was still going. Next time, "Mr. 2,2,3" not leaving before the fat lady has sung.
Theo Jorgensen is a member of Team PokerStars Pro