Nice Guys Finish First (2007 WSOP MAIN EVENT)

While everyone’s hopes for a “name” champion were denied, Jerry Yang’s prayers were answered
BY JONATHAN GROTENSTEIN

THE BIG ONE HAS COME AND GONE. One hundred and fifty hours of poker, and several hundred people are richer. Some much richer. For the sixth year in a row, a guy no one has ever heard of has been crowned world champion of poker, and we’re no closer to solving the age-old question (in poker years, anyway) of whether it’s a game of luck or skill.

But maybe we’re asking the wrong question. This year’s tournament demonstrated that success is governed by cosmic principles too profound for human reason. How else do you explain Jon Kalmar, a down-on-his-luck gambler whose plans to quit poker for a “real” job were delayed by his failure to book an earlier flight back to England, giving him time to play one last super-satellite, the start of a wild journey that would make him a millionaire? Or fellow final tablist Hevad “Rain” Khan, a college dropout whose God-given talent manifests itself in the ability to play nearly four dozen online sit-n-gos at the same time? The most literal suggestion of poker’s deep and abiding mystery was saved for last, when Jerry Yang, a 39-year-old social worker with relatively little poker training or experience, defeated the second-largest field in the game’s history, assisted, in large part, by his unshakable and very vocal belief in the Lord Almighty.

These stories reflect what the Main Event has lost and gained in its 38-year history. Benny Binion’s brainchild is no longer an exhibition of the world’s finest poker. Nor is it a forum for the best to shine.
It’s reality television. It’s a random story generator. And, for those who believe, it’s a place where miracles can happen.

***
The 2007 Main Event capped what was, by nearly any numerical standard, the most successful World Series of Poker in its history—hardly a forgone conclusion, given the anticipated effect of the Unlawful Internet Gambling Enforcement Act. But this year’s WSOP kept the Rio’s Amazon Room and its adjacent cavernous hallways bustling from June 1 until the wee hours on July 18, enticing a record 54,288 players to compete for a record $159,796,918 in a record 55 events.

The “first” day of the $10,000 No-Limit Hold ’Em Championship was divided into four separate flights. The doors opened just before noon on July 6, allowing the 1,287 “Day 1A” players to file into the Amazon Room, an enormous hall whose grandeur shot way up this year with the addition of billboard-sized photos, hung from the ceiling, of the past world champions (with the mysterious exception of 1985 winner Bill Smith), gazing down at the aspirants below.

Ten minutes after comedian George Wallace provided the traditional “Shuffle up and deal,” the tournament claimed its first casualty. Poor Matt Jansen’s exit, appropriate to the Main Event’s uniquely bat-shit logic, came attached to pocket aces, cracked by a suited K-Q that defied the 118-to-1 odds associated with flopping a flush.

Entry swelled to 1,545 on the second day (Day 1B), and Day 1C drew 1,743 players, exceeding the capacity of the Amazon Room. About 80 players were escorted through the 110-degree heat into the nearby Poker Pavilion, eight additional tables in an air-conditioned tent whose Series-long climate issues (earning it the nickname “Poker Sauna,” until an overzealous cooling system turned it into the “Poker Igloo”) had more or less been worked out.

The fourth and final “first” day attracted more players than any other, the 1,783 entrants elevating the final 2007 tally to 6,358. While it failed to match the record set by last year’s Internet-fueled 8,773-player field, neither the players nor organizers expressed much disappointment at putting on the second-largest tournament in poker history. It was announced that 621 players would cash in a prize structure slightly flatter than in years past. Still, it would award at least a million dollars to each of the top five players, culminating in an $8.25-million payday for the champion.

The larger-than-expected turnout forced the subdivision of Day Two into two parts. Day 2A’s 1,037 participants were supposed to play five levels, until organizers realized that the players were knocking one another off too quickly, creating the possibility that the bubble might burst prematurely. The day was called to an early end, 12 hours in, after the field had dwindled to 350. This decision, in turn, meant capping the length of Day 2B at the same 12 hours. The devil is in the details, as they say, and these are the kinds of devils tournament organizers will only face more of in the future.

The plan proved effective, however, preserving a 797-player field for the start of Day Three, the seventh day of the tournament. The bubble burst shortly before the dinner break, as an Ohioan named John Sigan could only gape in horror as his opponent spiked a gutshot straight on the turn. Play ended at around midnight with Dario Minieri, a 22-year-old online player from Rome, Italy, sitting behind $2.4-million in checks, almost $1-million more than the closest of the 336 players still in pursuit.

Day Four winnowed the field down to 112, leaving only two women—Maria Ho and Kelly Jo McGlothin—and two former champions—Scotty Nguyen and Huck Seed. Of the four, only Nguyen would survive to reach Day Six, when the last 36 players were reduced to final nine.

Nguyen would come tantalizingly close to making the final table, until a couple of expensive encounters with chip leader Philip Hilm eliminated the 1998 world champion. Nguyen’s 11th-place finish was good for nearly a half-million dollars, but bad for anyone hoping for a famous winner. It took another two hours to eliminate Steven Garfinkle in 10th place, leaving Lee Watkinson as the final table’s only recognizable pro.

Day Seven—the 11th day of the tournament—kicked off shortly after noon on July 17 with exactly the kind of international flair that Jack Binion used to dream of. Only three American-born players made the final table, sharing space with players hailing from Denmark (chip leader Hilm), Canada and England (Tuan Lam and Kalmar, nipping at his heels), Russia (blossoming pro Alex Kravchenko, who won his first WSOP bracelet this year in $1,500 Omaha High-Low), South Africa (Raymond Rahme, the table’s eldest statesman at age 62), and, seated behind the second-shortest stack, the table’s shortest player, 5’3” Laotian immigrant Yang. Each player had his own fan club in the stands, more often than not equipped with a representative flag and nationalist song.

Despite the lack of star power, it was a table that looked ready for business. Seven of the nine players were dressed in black. Most wore baseball caps, sunglasses, and hastily applied sponsor-patches—a sure sign of the NASCAR-ification of poker, with clumsier execution. But it became evident early—and often—that business would flow through Jerry Yang.

Yang, an almost exaggeratedly deliberate thinker, came out firing, taking down the first two pots and four of the first eight. What began as pesky play, however, morphed into something far more formidable on the day’s ninth hand.

With blinds of $120,000/$240,000 and $20,000 antes, Lee Childs, a 35-year-old aspiring pro from Virginia, led out with a raise to $720,000 from under the gun. Yang, next to act, made it $2.5-million to go. All folded back to Childs, who called the bet, then immediately sought to re-assert his control with a $3-million bet at a raggedy flop: 7c-4d-2c. Yang responded with an all-in raise, a play that shook the previously relaxed Childs. With over $20-million in the middle, Childs backed down, folding two queens face up after much deliberation.

“I didn’t know where I was,” Childs would later say. “I wasn’t sure, so I went ahead and let it go.”
Yang, equipped with a wife, six kids, and barely two years of poker experience—he’d earned his entry via a $225 satellite at Pechanga Casino, a short drive from his home in Temecula, California—continued his relentless assault, raising and re-raising before the flop on nearly every hand, wresting the chip lead from Hilm. On the 15th hand, Hilm decided to fight back, suckering Yang with an all-in check-raise into a king-high board on the turn, setting himself up to take down the nearly $11-million in the middle. The problem, of course, was that Yang actually had a hand he could call with—his Ad-Ks gave him top pair with top kicker, a favorite to hold up over Hilm’s middle-pair and flush draw. The river fired a blank, and Hilm, who began the day the biggest stack, became the first player sent to the rail, eliminated in ninth place.

Everyone seemed to be at a loss to explain whether Yang was really lucky or really good. A further deepening of the mystery arrived less than 10 minutes later, when Yang found himself in an all-in showdown before the flop with Watkinson, the most experienced and skilled player at the table. Yet here Watkinson was, all of his chips exposed to a larger stack, against Yang’s As-9d, a hand that most players wouldn’t have called his all-in bet with, but a hand that had his Ac-7h dominated. And the words that flowed rapidly out of Yang’s mouth were combining to form an honest-to-God prayer:

“Lord, you have a purpose for me today. I will glorify your name, Lord. With the money I make, I will glorify your name. Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, let me win this one.”

The board failed to improve Watkinson’s hand, and he was out in eighth place. He said, in regard to the man who eliminated him, “[Yang] felt like he was on a mission and blessed … He was going to catch everything.”

Yang didn’t catch everything. But his aggressive use of a big stack, a better-than-average run of starting hands, and, most memorably, his frequent and passionate appeals to a divine power, allowed him to run over the table. Over the next 12 hours, Yang kept the accelerator firmly pressed to the floor, single-handedly eliminating four of the next five opponents. As the clock neared 3 a.m., a very tired Rahme misplayed his pocket kings, attempting to check-raise Yang on the flop despite an ace on the board. Yang, buoyed by a weak ace and the apparent grace of God, made the call. Now only Tuan Lam stood between Yang and the answer to his prayers, and Yang had him outchipped by more than 4-to-1.

If there were any lingering doubts as to whether Yang was a deserving champion, they were erased during heads-up play. While Lam played, as he had throughout the final table, with surprising passivity, Yang continued his near-maniacal assault, raising before the flop every single time he found the button in front of him. Still, poker is a strange game, and the last hand, a virtual coin flip, had the potential to rewrite an ending that had seemed set in stone for most of the day.

Shortly before 4 a.m., Yang, with nearly $104-million in front of him, made his routine raise from the button, inspiring Lam to re-raise all in with his remaining $23-million. The copious aggression demonstrated by Yang throughout the day was never exhibited in haste—he’d often take several minutes to make a decision. On this hand, however, Yang responded with surprising alacrity, taking less than two seconds to call Lam’s bet.

Lam cheered when the cards were turned over—he seemed to like his Ad-Qh against Yang’s pocket eights—and the flop only re-affirmed his suspicions, producing the Qc to go along with the 9c and 5s. With nearly $45-million in the pot, a win by Lam would reduce Yang’s chip lead to less than 2-to-1. As Lam triumphantly waved a Canadian flag, the dealer turned over a 7d, creating a few more outs for Yang, who could now catch a six for a straight.

Yang, of course, was focused on prayer. It took the 6h on the river to snap that focus, and Yang screamed with joy, leaping into the arms of an equally excited family member.

“Jer-ry! Jer-ry! Jer-ry!” chanted the crowd. Yang shakily accepted the bracelet coveted by so many, requiring help to fasten it around his wrist. As he sat down for a post-game interview with ESPN’s Norman Chad, he took his sunglasses off for the first time, finally revealing the kind and gentle features that had been hidden underneath. To no one’s surprise, he began the interview with an extended thanks to God, leaving the sardonic Chad to poke at the issue that lurked just below the surface:

“Is this possibly the most poker the Lord has ever watched over?”

The crowd erupted in laughter, a collective release of the nervous tension—countless prayers have been uttered before the turn of a card, but never with such frequency or naked sincerity, at least not for these stakes. Yang smiled broadly, waiting patiently for the laughter to fade. “You know,” he finally responded, “I can only speak for myself. And I know the Lord was watching me. That I know for sure.”
His words, spoken with quiet power, left even Chad convinced that what had just transpired very much resembled a miracle. “Congratulations, Jerry,” he said in parting. “It was a blessed day.”

***
There had been a good deal of talk, throughout the day, as to which player at the final table would most benefit the game with a victory. Many argued for Kravchenko, pointing to the potential to lure more Russians into the game, or “Rain” Khan, a charismatic Internet prodigy who once had to send PokerStars a videotape of his online play as proof that it was he, not a “bot,” who was playing 43 screens at the same time.

As the dust settles, however, it seems more and more difficult to imagine anyone but Jerry Yang to put a face on the tournament. He had pledged, upon making the money, to tithe 10 percent of his winnings to those less fortunate. It was hardly a vague promise; he came to the final table armed with the names and contact information of the three charities that, in the next several days, would be receiving donations totaling nearly $900,000. In a political climate where poker players have been accused, by at least one member of Congress, of rampant moral degeneracy, Yang, whose social work (until he quits his job, most likely in favor of full-time philanthropy) revolves around the counseling of foster children, seems, by any standard, a virtuous man. It’s pretty much impossible to imagine that even a dollar of his winnings will go toward a drug habit or a night in the Champagne Room.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here,” declared misty-eyed ESPN Pay-Per-View analyst Phil Gordon at the conclusion of the final table, “and say that Jerry Yang is the most humble winner of this event in the history of the tournament.”

Poker, it seems, is changing gears.

Jonathan Grotenstein is a writer living in Los Angeles. He is the co-author of All In: The (Almost) Entirely True History Of The World Series Of Poker, and has collaborated on books with Phil Gordon and Scott Fischman.

The World Series of Celebrities

WSOP celebrity sightings were once limited to Chill Wills—the distinctive voice of Frances the Talking Mule—and, in later years, Gabe Kaplan and Telly Savalas. Nowadays, it seems, you can’t throw a rack without hitting a star in the head. Here are some of the notables who entered this year’s event, with the caveat that, in some cases, the term “star” has been loosely applied.

Kirk Acevedo (actor, Oz, Band Of Brothers)
Jason Alexander (actor, Seinfeld)
Hank Azaria (actor, multiple voices on The Simpsons)
Jose Canseco (steroid-enhanced baseball star/author of Juiced)
Shannon Elizabeth (actress, American Pie)
Salvatore “Sully” Erna (rock star, lead vocalist of Godsmack)
Brad Garrett (actor, Everybody Loves Raymond)
Janet Jones (actress, American Anthem, married to Wayne Gretzky)
Tobey Maguire (actor, Spiderman)
Norm McDonald (comedian, Saturday Night Live)
A.J. McLean (singer, former Backstreet Boy)
Nelly (rapper, three-time Grammy winner)
Todd Phillips (director, Old School, Starsky And Hutch)
Ray Romano (actor/comedian, Everybody Loves Raymond)
Rick Salomon (producer and “actor,” 1 Night In Paris)
Sam Simon (writer/producer, The Simpsons, Cheers)
Antonio Tarver (boxer, former light heavyweight champion)
Jennifer Tilly (actress, Bound, Bullets Over Broadway)
Rick Tocchet (former hockey player)
Montel Williams (TV host, The Montel Williams Show)

Stars Are Born

History will only remember the winners, but here are some other previously unknown players who turned in memorable performances at the 2007 Main Event:

Dario Minieri: The 22-year-old Roman wunderkind was already an online legend, having become the first player to earn enough frequent player points on PokerStars to purchase a Porsche Cayman. He wasn’t able to hold onto the enormous chip lead he carried into Day Four, but finished a respectable 96th, good for $67,355.

Hal Lubarsky: The second of two legally blind players in this year’s Main Event, Lubarsky—whose cards were whispered to him by an assistant—fought his way to 197th place, earning $31,398.
Jack Ury: The tournament’s oldest player at 94—his grandson was also in the field—survived until the second day despite severely impaired vision and one deaf ear. He also made the most entertaining misread of the tournament when he called an all-in bet with what he loudly declared to be a straight. The dealer gently pointed out that he, in fact, only had a pair of sixes, but they were still good enough to make his opponent muck.

Dangling The Carats

This year’s WSOP bracelets were designed by Swiss luxury timepiece company CORUM, who put an emphasis on comfort and feel, so that wearing a World Series bracelet would feel much like wearing a top-of-the-line wristwatch.

“We wanted to make a championship bracelet that is wearable,” said CORUM President Michael Wunderman. “My goal was to retain the original iconic styling of 18-carat gold and diamonds while making it thoroughly modern.”

The Final Table

Seat 1 Raymond Rahme $16,320,000
Seat 2 Alex Kravchenko $6,570,000
Seat 3 Lee Childs $13,240,000
Seat 4 Jerry Yang $8,450,000
Seat 5 Lee Watkinson $9,925,000
Seat 6 Tuan Lam $21,315,000
Seat 7 Philip Hilm $22,070,000
Seat 8 Jon Kalmar $20,320,000
Seat 9 Hevad Khan $9,205,000
The Final Results

1. Jerry Yang $8,250,000
2. Tuan Lam $4,840,981
3. Raymond Rahme $3,048,025
4. Alex Kravchenko $1,852,721
5. Jon Kalmar $1,255,069
6. Hevad Khan $956,243
7. Lee Childs $705,229
8. Lee Watkinson $585,699
9. Philip Hilm $525,934