Devastating.

That's the only word I have for it.

I'm flying back from Las Vegas right now, and I don't think I've felt this low in a long time.

Some may find that to be incredibly pathetic, which I would respect.

However, I'm just being honest and laying it all out there on the line.

I'm disappointed in myself. I made a huge mistake...two actually. And, I feel like I let a lot of people down, which makes it all the worse.

I didn't feel the pressure of many St. Louisans pulling for me, but when the end came, I felt terrible because I knew so many people had gotten on board with my run in the World Series of Poker Main Event.

For those that aren't familiar with how the end came, here's the breakdown...with some added fun facts for know and tell from yesterday's speedy McCarron Airport anecdote...which was written in the bowels of depression:

I started Day 2A of the WSOP with $26,325 in chips. As noted in my column yesterday, I went into the game "Ready To Die," but I wasn't prepared to die this way.

Sitting to my right was poker pro Jeff Bryan. He took 27th in the WSOP Main Event last year and won $330,000. His stack was somewhere around $60,000 to start the day.

I was aware of his presence...but I wasn't really intimidated by it.

From the get-go, I was on my game. The very first hand came. I was on the button. Action folded to me. I raised into the small and big blinds with KTo (KingTen offsuit), and both players folded...giving me the $250 small blind, the $500 big blind, and the $450 in antes.

That's a play that I probably wouldn't have made on Day 1A...which illustrates that I was ready to play some poker.

However, as things dragged on for the next 90 minutes, I played 1 other hand...and on that hand, I didn't even get to see the flop. I had 89 of spades, and after making the call to a $1,300 raise, the player in the big blind came over the top and went all-in. Therefore, I had to fold.

So, as I had feared going into the day, because I wasn't getting any cards...and I wasn't going to force the issue as I wanted to be patient...I was down to around $21,000.

Finally, I got a hand. I had 77 under the gun...meaning I was first to act. I raised it up to $1,500. The player on the button...a loose player...called, as did Jeff Bryan in the big blind.

The flop came off with rags and one overcard...but two clubs (of which I didn't have any)...and I bet $2,000. The button insta-called, and he made a point of making it clear he was insta-calling. And, Bryan folded.

The turn came off Q of spades. I checked. The button reached for chips...and then he checked.

The flop came off K of hearts. I checked again...anticipating a raise...and feeling like the button may have been on a flush draw of clubs from the outset. Sure enough, he bet $3,000 into the $9,200 pot. I think it was designed to appear to be a value bet. That was my rationale for calling. When I called, he said, "I've got nothing," and turned over a 10 of clubs and an 8 of clubs. I took down a $15,200 pot, and my chip stack was up to close to $30,000.

In the final hand of level 1, once again under the gun, I was dealt AdKc (Ace diamonds, King clubs). I raised it up to $2,000. Once again, the button called. And, once again, Jeff Bryan called.

The flop came As7c8c. Bryan checked to me. I bet $3,500 into the pot. After some theatrics, the button folded, and Bryan immediately folded.

I had a nice stack of $32,725 at the break...and I was feeling quite good about things.

I had increased my stack size nearly 25%, and I had done so by playing my game of tight-aggressive poker.

I was in the big blind coming back from break with the levels now at 300/600/75 ante. Bryan stole my blind out of the gate, which had happened a couple of times. He showed me an Ace after I laid down my hand...in order to show that he doesn't steal...which, of course, sets him up to steal later.

Nonetheless, two hands later, I was dealt Qd8d on the button. Action folded to me, and I led out with a bet of $1,800. The tight and short-stacked big blind called.

The flop came off Ah7d5d, giving me a flush draw. He checked to me, and in what may have been a mistake...but I wanted to see a free card...I checked as well. The turn came off Kh. He checked. I bet $2,500. He called.

Interesting.

The river came off a blank (a card that really couldn't help either one of us), and so I hadn't caught my flush. Therefore, I was sitting on Q high. However, after he checked to me, I knew the only way I could win the hand was to bet...and bet fairly largely...so I bet $6,000 with absolutely nothing but Q high.

He thought about it...and laid it down.

That was probably my biggest bluff of the tournament...and it brought me up to $36,325 in chips.

I was riding high. I was playing good poker. And, my chip stack had gone up by more than 40%.

Then it happened...

...motherfucker...

...it happened...and I feel like I have no one to blame but myself.

Jeff Bryan had been leading out and raising preflop quite often. In level 1, he was dealt AA twice, KK twice, and AK...and he either showed them or had to show them at showdown, so he was using that strong run early as equity to show he was getting good cards...and only playing good cards.

I was suspicious.

In early position, he raised it up to $1,800.

I look down and see 4d4h. Pocket 4's. One of my favorite hands...or should I say, it was before I got to Las Vegas. If you recall the infamous pocket Aces laydown of Day 1A, that player that came over the top of me with a huge raise told me later he had pocket 4's.

And, here they were again.

I call Bryan's $1,800 raise.

Everyone else folds.

That means there's $5,175 in the pot going to the flop.

Brief aside...and an important one at that: I am mainly an online player. That's how I taught myself the game. That's where I took a lot of losses to get to "this point," which, after Tuesday...doesn't feel like it's all that far along. But, the point is that in online poker, the math is done for you. You see how many chips you have, and the number is right there in front of you. You see how many chips your opponent has. They're right there in front of you. And, you see how many chips are sitting in the pot.

That's critical...because betting a certain amount of chips is the key to either betting someone out of a pot or stringing them along because they're "priced in" by the math. I know this is getting complex, and for those of you that don't know or understand it all, you're being taught by someone that doesn't necessarily know or understand it all. But, I have a decent idea. And, I know that when I'm playing online, if I want to get somebody off of a straight or flush draw and bet them out of the hand, I look at the total amount of chips in the pot, and I raise it enough so as to make it a mathematical losing proposition to call. Now, that doesn't stop everybody from doing it, but the good players usually get out of the way.

However, when you're playing "live" poker and not online, you have to pay attention to the size of the pot yourself, and you have to do some quick math. You have to add up the chips. You have to figure out the "right amount" to bet. And, you have to try and get a gauge on what your opponent has as far as his chip count.

This is where I blew it.

As I fly home, this is the mistake that will eat at me for a long, long time.

Once again, I had 4d4h...one of my favorite hands...up until July 3, 2008.

The flop comes off 4c, 7c, 8s.

I have a set (3 of a kind). Barring Bryan raising preflop in early position with 56, 77, or 88, I've got him beat. And, while there is a chance he's got 56, 77, or 88, it's pretty miniscule.

For the first time in the WSOP, I've flopped a set...in position...against a pro...who happens to have a giant chip stack.

Fuck yeah.

He leads out a continuation bet...as I expected...and as he should...of $2,500.

That now puts $7,625 in the pot.

I put on some Nina Hartley-caliber theatrics, and I reraise him to make it an additional $5,000 to go...putting a total of $7,500 out in middle ($2,500 to call his raise and $5,000 for the reraise). In hindsight, I should've made it at least $7,500 more to go...if not $10,000. If he comes over the top after my reraise...then I think twice about the possibility of him having 56, 77, or 88...or even a club flush draw trying to bully me out. But, I just bet an additional $5,000. If I would've bet more right there, I can't imagine him calling...now knowing what he had.

That, right there, was the crucial mistake.

That, right there, cost me God only knows what.

That, right there, will be with me for a long, long time.

With my reraise, the pot now had $15,175 chips in it. I assure you that if I were playing online, I would have bet more...which really makes this even more pathetic. But, I would have seen there was $7,500 in the pot after his bet, and I would have made it much more to go...at least I think I would've.

Either way, he calls the $5,000 reraise...putting an additional $5,000 into the pot...and making it a total pot of $20,175.

At this point, I have about $26,000 still left in my stack. I'm still sitting pretty...even if somehow all hell breaks loose.

And, of course, all hell breaks loose.

The turn comes 6s. That means the board now looks like this: 4c7c8s 6s.

The only way he could have me beat at this point is if he has 66, 77, 88...or a 5.

Based on the simple call of my reraise after the flop, I didn't have him on 77 or 88...or 56 for that matter, because I don't think he would've given me the freedom to possibly catch a club on the turn if I were firing at a flush draw.

So, knowing he preflop raised in early position...and knowing he led out after a shitty-looking flop...and knowing he called my reraise (that wasn't enough chips in hindsight)...I've got him on a flush draw...or a big overpair...but more likely a flush draw.

It's his turn to bet with $20,175 in the pot. I'm feeling like I'm only moments away from having at least $46,175 chips in my stack...and being incredibly dangerous.

And, what does the Canadian poker pro do?

He bets $25,000.

That's right. He bet $25,000 into a $20,175 pot.

That, my friends, is how you play the game.

You see...he's got $60 to $70,000 chips behind him still...and even if I call him and beat him, he's still going to have $40,000 to $50,000 chips behind him. It wasn't a do or die situation...but it was an awfully sweet pot out there, and based on---perhaps---my earlier play in which I checked the turn and river on my pocket 7's before calling a relatively small 33% of the pot bet on the river, he may have seen me as weak-tight...and therefore able to bet me off a good hand with a flush draw.

Here's where I made the fatal mistake. I didn't believe he had the 5. I didn't believe he had a set. But, I didn't think about it enough...and I didn't have the balls to do the right thing like I had done on Day 1A when I laid down pocket Aces.

I called.

Jeff Bryan flipped over...

...a 5s8c.

He had the straight.

Yes. He raised preflop with 58 offsuit.

And, he called a reraise of $5,000 additional chips after the flop with top pair, 5 kicker, and a gutshot straight draw.

When it was all said and done, I was defeated...and ended...by a 4 outer. Only 4 cards could've beaten me...unless he caught runner-runner for a full house or quad 8's. I could only have been beaten by one of the four 6's.

And, on the turn, one of the four 6's came.

You still want to go out and "live the dream" at the World Series of Poker?

Now, in hindsight...and it's been maybe 3 or 4 hours now since this disaster happened...under absolutely no circumstances should I have called...even if I believed I had the best hand...it wasn't worth my whole tournament life.

I mean...in reality...he could've had the 6's, 7's, or 8's...and he could've had a flush draw...and then he could've---and, in fact, did---have the 5. I mean...why wouldn't he come out firing with Ac5c with the size of a stack that he had. Hell, that means he could've had the flush draw and the gutshot straight draw.

And, that $25,000 bet screamed, once again, in hindsight, "I hit the straight...and I don't want you to outdraw me for this $20,000 pot on the river by hitting the flush (there were two flush draws out there) or pairing the board and catching the full house of quads."

But, the bet, at the time, screamed to me, "I'm a pro. I have a giant stack. I think I can bet you off your hand. I'm going to put you all-in."

And, I was wrong.

I was wrong to call.

And, I was wrong to think what I thought, because the former was true...not the latter.

I pushed all-in...which was about $1,250 more than the $25,000 I had to call...and right away, I heard Jeff say, "I call. I don't care how much that is."

That's when I knew the executioner had arrived.

He showed the 5s8c...and my heart sank. I immediately regretted it...as you would imagine. However, and in fairness, I can't say I was thinking this way at the time of making the call, although in the back of my mind, I was aware of it: I still had about a 25% chance of winning or chopping the pot.

If a 4, 6, 7, or 8 came off, I would win the approximately $75,000 pot. Yeah...can you imagine? And, if a 5 came off, I would have a straight...just like Jeff...and we would've chopped the pot. And, I would've gotten a lesson for free.

I had 12 outs. That's a pretty substantial number of outs. It wasn't over...even though I deserved to have my tournament come to an end for making that piss-poor reraise after the flop and that dreadful call after the turn.

I still had a chance.

But, the 3 of spades came off on the river as a bunch of people gathered around our table to see this showdown. And, that was the end.

I shook Jeff's hand, and I said, "Nice hand." A couple of other guys shook my hand and said, "Good game."

But, that was pretty much it. I just got up and walked away.

Stunned.

Absolutely fucking stunned.

And, disappointed.

If I would've gotten all my money with AA and gotten beaten by KK...then so be it. That's part of the game, and that you can't control. That has happened to me and many others...and that will continue to happen to me and many others.

But, on this hand...when I had played so fucking well for so fucking long...I made two huge, unacceptable mistakes.

Now, I have talked about this hand with a few people, and most of them are very critical of Bryan for calling my reraise after the flop...because he only had 4 outs...but in fairness to him, he didn't know that. If an 8 would've come off, I would've doubled up with a full house...or at least gotten a shitload more of chips off of him.

Personally, I think if you had to rank mistakes in this hand, it goes:

1. My call on the turn. Fucking dreadful.

2. My reraise on the flop. Pussy and stupid.

3. His call of my reraise on the flop.

But, you know what? It doesn't matter? He hit a four-outer...and I allowed him to get there by not betting more. And, then when he did hit it, I donked off all of my chips...which was a pretty healthy stack...even if I would've folded.

This may---and probably does---sound pathetic...but man, am I hurting?

I was moving up the ladder...and I was in position to be up in the mid-40's if I had just bet more after the flop. That's an obvious mistake in hindsight...and it kills me. It really does.

Why?

Because I know better.

Because I could've legitimately made a run at this thing.

And, because so many---so, so many---people had gotten behind me and sent emails of support. Fuck, we had nearly 12,000 people come to the site on Monday, and 5,000 of them went and read my stupid ass column about Chris Moneymaker evaluating my pocket Aces' laydown, the "Leper" and the "Alien" at the Hard Rock pool, and Andy Dick seducing some of my friends.

People were on board, man. And, I fucked it all up.

Just getting to Thursday would've been so fucking thrilling for not just me...but all of these people who don't know a thing about poker and/or don't give a damn about poker who were just paying attention to this thing because a St. Louisan they felt like they knew was playing in it.

A bad beat? I can live with it. It's never fun. But, it's part of the game.

Doing what I did yesterday? It will stick with me for a long time. It really will.

This may be my Brad Lidge-Albert Pujols moment. It could fuck me and my poker game up for awhile.

I honestly don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight. How pathetic is that? I'm 31 years-old...and a poker hand has ripped my heart out in a tournament that I bought into with house money.

Sad. Pathetic. Pussy.

Having said all of that...Brad Lidge just got a huge contract extension.

It's over for this year, but I learned a lesson: Don't hang a slider to Albert Pujols with the game on the line, and don't put all of your chips in the middle without the best hand with the World Series of Poker Main Event on the line.

Finally, thank you to everyone who sent emails over the last couple of weeks. I'm being dead serious when I say I can't convey how cool it was to read so many emails/comments here on the site. I saved a bunch of them. They're tough to look at now, but in time, I think I'll be able to read and appreciate both the sentiments from the friends of the show and the site...and also appreciate what I was able to accomplish and the experience of playing on my favorite game's grandest stage.

But, for now, this fucking sucks.

Log-in and post your comments below, or you can email me at tmckernan@insidestl.com.