Fresh off an 8th-place finish for $45,700, I entered the 2026 WSOP Main Event full of confidence. The Poker Gods, however, had already scheduled a meeting. Two days of being card dead, one Venetian side quest, and a final showdown with pocket queens later... let's just say they were thoroughly entertained.
A week after finishing 8th out of 3,323 players for $45,700, I walked into the 2026 WSOP Main Event feeling like a seasoned pro.
I wasn't overconfident...
Okay, maybe just a little.
After all, I had just survived four days of poker, dodged countless bullets, and convinced myself I'd finally figured out this whole "don't punt your stack" thing.
The Poker Gods took that personally.
Day 1 – Folding is Apparently a Skill
Shuffle up and deal!
My first few hours looked something like this:
Fold.
Fold.
Fold.
Pocket deuces.
Fold.
2-4 suited.
Fold.
Ace-King...
Miss.
Fold.
At one point I started wondering if the dealer had accidentally shuffled Uno cards into the deck.
The good news?
I avoided every expensive mistake.
The bad news?
I also avoided winning any meaningful pots.
By the end of Day 1, I bagged 39,000 chips, down from the starting stack of 60,000.
Not ideal...
...but still alive.
And in tournament poker, alive is underrated.
The Venetian Detour
Since Day 2 didn't start until later, I decided to "stay sharp" by playing a $1,100 tournament at the Venetian.
Translation:
"I've clearly not had enough emotional damage this week."
With about 19 big blinds, I defended the big blind with Ace-Ten.
The flop came Ten-high.
I shoved.
My opponent politely informed me that top pair wasn't enough and sent me to the rail.
Lesson learned.
Apparently the Poker Gods wanted a warm-up before the Main Event continued.
Day 2 – Card Dead Airlines
Back to the Main Event.
Starting stack: 39,000.
For what felt like an eternity, my hole cards looked like they were selected by a random number generator designed by my enemies.
Fold.
Fold.
Fold.
Fold.
Fold.
Every orbit I became more familiar with the backs of the cards than the fronts.
Eventually my stack drifted down to around 29,000.
Then...
It happened.
Pocket Queens.
Finally!
The soundtrack in my head immediately switched from funeral music to Rocky.
The Grand Finale
I opened from under the gun.
One player called.
Another player 3-bet.
Now we're talking.
I called.
Heads-up.
The flop came beautifully low.
Perfect.
I checked.
He bet.
I shoved.
He snap-called.
Pocket Kings.
Of course.
Because when you've been card dead for two days and finally wake up with Queens, the Poker Gods don't just want you to lose...
...they want to make sure it's memorable.
No queen appeared.
The dealer pushed the pot the other way.
My Main Event was over.
Looking Back
Do I wish the Queens had held?
Absolutely.
Would I play them differently?
Probably not.
Sometimes poker isn't about making the perfect decision.
Sometimes it's about making the correct decision and accepting that the deck had other plans.
The good news?
This WSOP was still one of the best I've ever had.
Just days earlier I had finished 8th out of 3,323 players, proving to myself that deep runs aren't reserved for poker celebrities—they're available to anyone willing to stay patient, stay disciplined, and occasionally survive a few miracles.
The Main Event didn't end with fireworks.
It ended with Queens running into Kings.
And honestly...
That's poker.
The Poker Gods may have won this round.
But they also gave me another story for ATMWITHNOPIN.com.
See you next WSOP.
Hopefully we'll negotiate a better script.