Sportsbook & Gambling Information

July 2, 2005 For Many, Path to Big One Begins With Low Stake By JAMES McMANUS NY TIMES

Eight Texas road gamblers were all who dared enter the World Series of Poker in 1972. That was the event's third year but the first time the buy-in reached $10,000. Thirty-three years later the buy-in to the main event remains the same, but more than 6,000 are expected to enter next week. What gave all these people the courage?

Inflation, advice books, online poker and hole-card cameras have all been big factors, but the explosion of entries was initially ignited by Eric Drache, the first director of the World Series. Mr. Drache understood that a bona fide world championship needed more than eight pretenders, so in the mid-1970's he began spreading $1,000 one-table satellites, feeder tournaments in which one player earned a seat at the Big One. Players with day jobs and limited bankrolls began to show up at the World Series every spring. In 1983, a Grand Rapids accountant named Tom McEvoy became the first satellite qualifier to win the main event, taking home $540,000 for defeating 107 opponents.

These days, more than half the field of any major event have earned their seats in a dizzying variety of satellites offered in card rooms on land and online. With buy-ins as low as $1, there are satellites to get into a satellite to get into a satellite. If the odds seem outlandish, consider that four of the last five World Series champions won their seats in feeder events.

In 2003 a Nashville accountant, Chris Moneymaker, parlayed a $39 Internet satellite entry into the $2.5 million first prize. Last year Greg Raymer, a patent attorney, won a $150 double shootout on PokerStars.com, beating successive virtual tables of nine actual opponents each to win a seat, then outlasted a field of 2,576 to take home $5 million; the runner-up, David Williams, and two other people at the final table were also seated on PokerStars.

In live one-table satellites, held during major tournaments, the math is relatively straightforward: Luck and skill being equal, each competitor is a 9-1 underdog. Multi-table supersatellites allowing rebuys unbalance this equity and tend to become all-in fests with mediocre players shoving in their entire stack before the flop and hoping for the best; if they lose, they reload and keep firing.

This year at the Rio in Las Vegas there were one-table satellites priced as low as $125, but the most cost-effective routes to the Big One were the $1,030 events. For only $5 more in juice than in $525 events, players started with $5,000 in tournament chips, as opposed to $2,000, giving them two and a half times as much play.

In winner-take-the-seat formats, deals are often struck when three or two players remain. With two similar chip counts, for example, one player may take the seat and pay his opponent half its value. Before the World Poker Tour championship in April, the Bellagio offered a sweet variation with less than 1 percent juice. Players ponied up $3,000 apiece and began with $25,000 in tournament chips. The winner got a $25,500 seat plus $200 in cash; second place paid $4,100.

Since the goal is to advance players into the main event, satellite winners don't have the option of taking first prize in cash - unless they already have an entry receipt, in which case they are paid the extra seat's value in cash. This way, a talented specialist can win the equivalent of several seats per tournament.

Most one-table satellites also generate last-longer side bets. I have seen all 10 players at a table take part in these pools, though five or six is more typical. At the Bellagio the side bets were $500, giving the survivor a bonus of $3,000 or so, or a not-bad third prize by itself. In the Rio's $1,030 satellites, they were usually $200.

Some players shun last-longer action because busting out early isn't necessarily a bad thing in terms of overall strategy. Amir Vahedi, a Tehran native who fought in the Iran-Iraq war and is currently ranked seventh in the world by Card Player (and has his own cigar-chomping bobblehead), explains, "In order to live in a no-limit tournament, you have to be willing to die."

Going for broke can work just as well in a satellite. If opponents deduce that you're bent on lasting longer, as opposed to winning outright, they'll steal too many pots in which you don't hold the nuts. When scare cards come - when, as in the hand shown above, the community cards make a flush likely - a tough player will often raise on the river with any old hand, assuming you'll fold your two pairs or even three of a kind.

Unless a surefire tell reveals she's not bluffing, you may have to show her you're willing to die with a reraise. It's the kind of big risk you often have to take in order to beat nine other players. Finishing near the middle of the pack can be modestly profitable in side games, but with satellite money reserved for one or two spots, what's the point of hanging on to place fourth?

One answer is that cautiously preserving your chips while rivals are eliminated can land you a seat, but you are more likely to win in attack mode. In future columns I'll discuss what primers by Mr. McEvoy and others have to say about tactics and deal-making, and interview some flourishing satellite specialists.