Yevgeniy Timoshenko -- 26,000
Christer Johansson -- 38,000
Wooka Kim -- 45,000
Erik Friberg -- 36,000
John Kabbaj -- 92,000
Markus Golser -- 76,000
Devilfish -- 80,000
Dennis Phillips -- 19,000
James Akenhead -- 98,000
John Juanda -- 23,000
Jonathan Plens -- 8,000
Andre Akkari -- 54,000
Sam Trickett -- 44,000
Fabrizio Baldassari -- 60,000
Andrew Chen -- 49,000
Matt Hawrilenko -- 67,000
Men Nguyen -- 42,000
Justin Smith -- 42,000
Tommy Pavlicek -- 212,000
As the tables were dispersing for the break, we couldn't help but notice Antonio Esfandiari and Phil Hellmuth trash-talking each other. A quick glance at the felt revealed Hellmuth had been eliminated on the final hand prior to the break.
After conferring with The Magician, he revealed that he'd raised with , bet 3,600 on a flop, checked the turn and pushed the river, Hellmuth check-calling him down with what we are led to be believe was an eight.
Hellmuth, clearly not taking his exit in good spirit, was critical of Esfandari, leading his assassin to suggest a heads-up match for high stakes. Hellmuth didn't officially respond to the request, and simply stormed off, mumbling profanities under his breath and complaining to anyone who would listen.
"I still love you, Phil" shouted Esfandiari, to little effect.
On a board, Tabatabai led out for 11,400 from the big blind. His opponent - on the button - looked over suspiciously before hesitantly making the call. Tabatabai showed .
The quiet, intense table upstairs suddenly burst into momentarily life as Christian Harder raised from the button to 1,600, Michael Binger pushed for 7,300 in the small blind, and Harder, albeit with a sigh, made the call.
Binger =
Harder =
Flop =
"Sheesh," said Binger after glancing nervously at his opponent's suits.
Morten Erlandsen raised to 1,800 from the and, after asking how much he had behind, Kenneth Hicks pushed all in for 19,800. Erlandsen quickly passed, leaving himself with 18,000.
Annette Obrestad is also on this table with 55,000.
EPT winner Sandra Noujoks was all in on board for 22,900 with about the same in the middle. Her opponent was trapped in temptation, but failed to succumb. After the hand, one player confessed, "I would loooooove to know what those cards were." "Maybe we could each pay her five pounds," suggested another. "Tell you what," added Karl Mahrenholz, "give me 50 pounds and I'll just turn them over."
On the upper deck, three tables sit beyond a hanging cloth in a concealed room. A security guard perches by a rope, as if attending the entrance to a VIP area at a nightclub. Inside is a more serene arena, away from the hustle and bustle of the casino floor where you're constantly prodded with questions like, "Where's Bill Ivey?" and "Is this a cash game?" The players seem equally pacified by these surroundings, quiet and relaxed as they battle their way through the day.
One table in particular is so quiet you could hear a mouse blow wind. As neighbour Michael Binger and Sami Kelopuro receive symmetrical massages, Julian Thew rests his chin on his hands, as if battling against impatience as he considers the prospect of nurturing his short stack for yet another level. Meanwhile, Christian Harder and co listen to his ipod, trapped in their own worlds, whilst David Williams taps away at his phone, either Twittering or sports betting.
As for the action, raise-fold-fold-fold seems to be the order of the day with each player treading carefully amid challenging company. No one wants to make a costly mistake, and no one wants to have to leave the VIP room and emerge from the cloth, defeated and £10,000 down.