My first experience of a major tournament like this, and it didn't go too badly (although it was harder for Michelle watching than it was for me playing, especially when I pushed all-in, but more about that later).

Play was scheduled to start at 2pm, and  this was preceeded by a mad scramble of players trying to see the table they had been drawn.  I was drawn on Table 13, a table (like most of them here) full of professional players, the ones I knew I'd seen play on TV.

Here was the lineup on Table 13:

1. Clint Brotherton
2. Frode Fagerli
3. Martin Cedercrantz
4. Daniel Phillips
5. John Persson
6. Christian Togsverd
7. Christian Grundtvig
8. Emile Petit
9. Tuncay Ozel
10. Uffe Holm

Soon after 2pm, it got underway, and I was hoping for a decent hand early on to settle me in and relax me a bit.  Didn't have to wait long, as the second hand I was dealt was .  I raised, and got one caller in the Big Blind.

The flop was an interesting one:

I thought I was almost certainly ahead, and checked the flop, which he then bet into and I raised him and he folded quickly.

That made me feel relaxed, and I settled back during the early stages and tried to work out how everyone else at the table had come to play.

I didn't have to wait long.  The Scandanavians are mad!  Hardly any pots weren't raised pre-flop, often by a player in early position.  Raises and re-raises were the order of the day - and often with not a great deal in terms of starting hands.  This wasn't going to be a game for the weak-hearted.

First Blood

Very early, there was a massive clash between a young American player and Frode Fagerli, a well-known Norwegian on the European circuit.  Of course, the pot was raised pre-flop, and both seemed to be pleased with the flop.  So much so, that they both checked.  The turn was , and this brought about a bet and a call.  The river was the .  This is when the fireworks started.  The American bet, Frode raised, who was then re-raised by the American, only to be re-raised all in by the Norwegian.

Both seemed to take an age to turn their cards over.  Eventually the American was devastated to see that the full house his gave him, was well behind Frode's - giving him quad tens.  The American probably thought the river card was a safe one for him, making it more unlikely the Frode held a ten in his hand. Even more unlikely that he had two!  The result was that Frode had doubled up, and the American was down to the felt with about 1,000 chips.

Hard Work

The play on the table continued to be aggressive and unrelenting.  I raised with on the button, only to get two callers.  The flop was , and both players checked to me so I put out a bet of about 3/4 of the pot.  This would help me find out where I was.  I soon found out, as my bet was raised, and then re-raised!  I decided that my top-pari, top-kicker was no good, and that discretion was the better part of valour - and I folded.  The other two both seemed to like the board, and the betting continued on the turn, and the river, and a large bet by Emile Petit on the river saw him take down the not insignificant pot without a showdown.

I made some steals when I was in a good position (with any cards, as they didn't really matter), but most of the time I was folding behind raises and re-raises.  When I got half a hand, such as on the button, I raised to take the pot uncontested, but was faced with a massive re-raise - which forced me to fold my hand, and wish that I'd called rather than bet pre-flop.

Chipped away

The day went on, and my stack was slowly being eroded away.  Down to about 6,500 chips I was in the Big Blind, and was happy to see it folded round to me.  This had to be one of less than half a dozen hands that weren't raised pre-flop.  My delight turned to amazement as I glanced at my cards… !  

I managed to salvage some chips back as the blinds increased, but I was still conscious of the fact that I needed to start accumulating some chips to give me any chance of surviving when the blinds became substantial and the antes kicked in.

After some bad clashes for me, I was down to around 3,000 chips, and was all too aware that I needed to double-up at least once if I was to reach the end of Day 1.

Time to push

With a few hours remaining until the end of Day 1a, I was looking for an opportunity to steal the blinds, or double-up if my all-in raise was called.

The first push was with that went unopposed.  Unfortunately, I had to wait a while for the opportunity to push all-in again as there was always too much action ahead of me to get my chips in first.  Eventually, I was in the cut-off seat with the massive hand of .  An ultra-aggressive Scandie put out his usual raise from early, and it looked like a good time to stick the chips in.  Fortunately, he decided to fold rather than look me up with my monster hand.

The very next hand, I had , and still short-stacked I pushed all-in again, hoping for a call - which unfortunately wasn't forthcoming.  Maybe i could have played it slower, but I was hoping that anyone with half a hand would call knowing that I could be pushing with a wide range of hands.

Final Hour of Day 1a

Back down to about 3,000 chips and it was time to push all-in to have any hope of surviving with the blinds at 300-600 (with antes of 75).

Frode Fagerli is on the button, and I'm in the small blind.  Forde says before he looks at his cards, "If I have Nine high, I'm all in…" then looks and passes. 

So, I'm pushing with my .  Not a monster of course, but more than enough for me to take what's in the pot.  John Persson, in the big blind called with

Well, I'm ahead I remember thinking.

The first card on the flop wasn't pleasant: .  "That's not good" I commented.

Next card was the , but the last card on the flop was a very nice  "Oh, that's good." I added.

Turn: 
River: 

…and I've doubled up with about 45 minutes of play left in the day.

Sitting there with about 7,000 chips, and I'm looking for another opportunity to double through again.

An aggressive Scandie with a big stack made the obligatory raise, and Frode (who's down to 6,000-odd at this stage) decides to push all-in.  I look down at , and decide that Frode could have a wide range of hands - many of which I beat or am at least a coin-flip against.  My only concern is the big stack who's still in the hand.  I decide he could have ATC, so I push my remaining 7,000 into the middle.

I'm delighted to see the Scandie fold his , and Frode asked if I had a poker pair.  When I said no, his face fell, and he turned over , so I had him dominated.  Nothing came down to make any difference, and my A-high with the queen kicker saw me jump up to about 16,000 and  knock Frode out of the tournament.  It was a shame it was him to go, as he was really friendly and decent bloke, and we'd both been battling away with short stacks for the last few hours.  Still, rather him than me…

Soon after that hand the clock was stopped and the Tournament Director announced that there would be 7 more hands played that day.  Sitting on the button a quick count round the table meant that I wouldn't have to post the blinds again, and I could sit back and fold anything other than an absolute monster.  Fortunately, the best I got was under the gun, on the last hand of the day.  I quickly folded, and saw two of the large stacks get very excited on a 7-high flop, and I was glad I wasn't involved.  

I was relieved to get through to Day 2, although not as relieved as Michelle who had been supporting me from the rail all day.