One last deep run

After playing until 3 and blogging until 4 I feel distinctly fluish so I spend most of the day in bed. Even sitting by the pool in the 105 degree heat seems too enervating, so my only activity is the New York Times. The five o'clock start time is a godsend, and by the time it rolls around I feel pretty good. I'm not the least bit worried about being sick; some of my best results have come at times like this and I've always been able to take a fever in stride.

My initial table draw is terrible, with David Phan and Nam Le, two of the best and most aggressive Vietnamese superstars both doubling up on the first round and applying enormous pressure right at and over the edge of recklessness thereafter. But I came to play today as well and make a gutsy call on the button with 5s 4s and push everyone out on the turn with just a straight draw. Nevertheless, I am thrilled when my table breaks.

Today's event alternates between 30 minutes of limit hold'em followed by 30 minutes of no limit hold'em. In no limit, the blinds and antes gently nibble at your stack but every time you play a hand your tournament life is in jeopardy. In limit, one hand will rarely do you in, but the blinds are so large it's like a vacuum cleaner hoovering up 15% of your chips every time they come by.

There are only 731 entries in this event, so the field is considerably stronger. I'm moved to a new table, with a couple of hot-shot European players. David Benyamine, who has already won a bracelet this year, is contending for WSOP Player of the Year, and has won more money than anyone else on the internet in the last 12 months, is moved to my right. David has a stereo and a miniature portmanteau on top of 25 stacks of chips. He's a big guy and his chips and his arms intrude on my personal space. He rarely lets the action go by without a raise or at least a call, so my opportunities to steal blinds are immediately non-existent. I'm forced to fight for my personal space as well as avail myself of any opportunity to steal chips. The first hand back from the break neither he nor the big blind is present, and when a mid-position alert player raises, I think he may be just raising because the big blind is gone and re-raise with 10 6 offsuit on the button. He calls and then mercifully checks and folds to my bet on the A Q 7 flop. With one aggressive move I have bought myself 20 minutes more survival.

For the most part I am playing solid and unimaginative poker but the few times I get out of line I am lucky. My flu symptoms--mild fever, sweating and chills--become worse, and when I have a Hot and Sour soup on the last break I perspire through my shirt. Mentally, though, I feel just fantastic! There's nothing like poker for a distraction.

The last two hours are a bit of a blur. I'm moved yet again to a table where some 22 year old internet kid is playing brilliantly and takes the tournament chip lead. I bob and weave but stay a little cautious and end the day with exactly 18,000 in chips, 6 times what we started with and a little less than average but still in great shape. There are 98 players left, with only 72 making the money. First place is a modest but still respectable $219,000.

Stephen is with me at the end, but totally exhausted. I joke that my cheering section is a single walking cadaver. Still, seeing him is a huge morale boost and I'm really grateful he stayed up. He informs he's been playing in a great 5-10 no limit game for three hours and only played one hand, costing him $300. I comment that if I'd had his cards, I'd be stuck at least $1500! Sometimes it's good to play tight.

Keep your fingers crossed for me tomorrow. Over and out.