Flashback
It’s November 2014, and I find myself in Manchester, the guest of Paddy Power. Paddy are making a promo push for the 2015 Irish Open in the UK, hoping to attract more foreign visitors to the event. As part of that, they’re running a special event in the Manchester235 casino, and have comped me (and Padraig Parkinson) an all-expenses-paid trip.
I flew over with Peter Campbell. Since the death of Liam Flood, there’s a vacancy for the title of the Gentleman of Irish poker, and Peter (one of the most amiable characters you could ever meet) is the leading candidate (Peter sadly passed away a few years later).
My only previous events in Manchester were a GUKPT and a UKIPT in the Grosvenor casino (before it was renovated), so I was pleasantly surprised by how sophisticated and central (and far from Strangeways) the Manchester235 casino was. As I walked in, Padraig Parkinson was walking out. He had just busted the first flight, but was nevertheless in fine fettle and looking forward to a weekend in Manchester.
Jersey Shore comes to Manchester
Thankfully the starting stack was a generous 30k, as I managed to lose over 20k of it in the early going. A significant chunk of this went in one big pot to an aggressive American who looked like he’d walked off the set of Jersey Shore to my immediate right.
the American was known to most of the English players at my table
From the table chat, I gathered that the American was known to most of the English players at my table, and had played all the bigger events at the recent World Poker Tour (WPT) in Nottingham. He was playing almost every hand aggressively. Once I realised this, I figured I couldn’t necessarily just wait for a big hand before getting involved. I came off the worse in the first two minor skirmishes where I decided to float him on the flop with no hand no draw and got my comeuppance when he check raised me both times on the turn. Then I finally found a hand, AKs, under the gun at 100/200. Because it was the American’s big blind and I was not anticipating a fold, I raised bigger than I would normally to 525. A loose passive player called on the button, and the American pumped it up to 1900. I didn’t really fancy getting 150 big blinds in pre flop with ace high at this point in the tournament, so I just called. The button got out of the way and the flop came down Q66 with two spades (my suit). My first reaction to that flop was to think “When he cbets, I’ll be raising to get it in with my two overs and nut flush draw.” To my surprise, he checked the flop, setting off alarm bells in my brain. Queens? Really? I decided to postpone aggressive action til the turn and checked behind. The turn was the four of spades and my opponent checked again. With the nut flush now made, it seemed like high time to bet, but I was still a bit suspicious, so I erred on the small side, betting less than a third of pot. My opponent now clicked it back, and the alarm bells grew louder. However, getting 5 to 1 on the call, against an opponent who had already pulled this move twice successfully, I couldn’t really just fold, so I called again to re-evaluate river.
The river was the four of spades putting four spades out there and I really wasn’t sure what I was doing if my opponent bombed into me. Thankfully he checked, and after considering a value bet (but rejecting it on the grounds that the best hand he could have that might call was jacks with the jack of spades, and even that would be thin), I checked behind. He rolled over queens for the flopped house and I was pretty relieved to have gotten away that light. The American smiled ruefully when he saw my hand and said “I guess you have too much information on me.” I assumed he meant from the fact he had played almost every hand to date so I replied “You do like your check raises” but at the break found out what he really meant when one of my table mates told me my neighbour was none other than Michael “The Grinder” Mizrachi. This was the first (and last until now) time we played together.
Twelve years later
When I walked into the room where the unofficial World Series of Poker final table had just started, the Grinder was once again the talk of the room. Every second person I met told me they’d heard from a friend that he had spent the previous few nights partying in a strip club, and was still there at 8am when their friend left. So it’s fair to say the Grinder’s approach to preparing for the biggest final table of his life is quite different from the solver kids with their sims on the rail, and their breath work and meditation on breaks.
necessitated him to sell large pieces of himself, and also produce his very best
He also, it seems, has a very different approach to bankroll management, as every second person (the ones not regaling me with strip club anecdotes) confided that they had “a small piece.” Now when you hear this about online OGs like Kenny Hallaert, you tend to assume there’s a spreadsheet and Kelly criterion involved, but with the Grinder, you feel it’s more of a case of necessity. The last time he had a phenomenal year at the series, he was candid that the perilous state of his finances in the run up to the series had necessitated him to sell large pieces of himself, and also produce his very best.
A WSOP campaign for the ages
It’s been reported that he played only 12 events at this year’s WSOP, and cashed all 12. Whether that’s true or not, in winning the prestigious 50k PPC for an unprecedented fourth time and then going on to win the Main Event, he put together WSOP campaign for the ages, worthy of the instant Hall of Fame induction that followed his victory.
One of my X followers expressed the opinion that it must be hard for someone who approaches the game as studiously and seriously as I do to see someone who on the surface appears to take a polar opposite approach, and run like God down the stretch to victory. In reality though, nobody ever won the Main Event without running hot. That’s just how tournaments work: we keep showing up hoping that today is our turn to sun run, and if we do, that we don’t mess it up. In the words of my friend Tricia Cardner on a recent podcast, we are all just buying lottery tickets. Good study habits and preparation might get us a few extra lottery tickets but that’s all it does, and we still need our numbers to come up.
One of the very best things about poker is the sheer diversity of personalities it attracts
I’d also be the first to concede that if everyone who played poker was a mirror image of me in approach and personality, the game would be a lot duller. One of the very best things about poker is the sheer diversity of personalities it attracts, and approaches it potentially rewards. In recent years the solver kids have been in the ascendancy, and even if they’re the group my natural affinity lies with, it was perhaps time for something different. And in the Grinder with his freewheeling approach to both the game and life, we certainly found something different, a John Daly for our game.
