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We have 19 tables left in play, and there are 114 players remaining in the field. It's taken less than five levels to lose more than half of our runners, and that's a bit quicker than the still-quick pace we'd envisioned. We figured we'd have about 60-70 runners left at the end of Day 1, but it seems we may do a bit better than that if the current pace continues for another five levels. Blinds are up in two minutes.
Level: 6
Blinds: 150/300
Ante: 25
It's 'never' I'm afraid as Henry Nowakowski has been snipered down by the expert aim of Stuart Rutter. When I joined the action, Nowakowski was all in for 5,700 on a 
flop, the decision resting on Stuart Rutter who was mumbling way through the possible holdings in true Negreanu style: "You've either got K-J, J-T, or A-rag."
In the end, it was the latter of those three, as Rutter made a power call (suddenly grabbing his chips and firmly sliding them across the felt as if to prevent himself from changing his mind) with 
and was shown 
for his troubles.
A 
turn and 
river later and it was auf wiedersehen for the German veteran.
We joined this pot as the turn card came out on a board of 
. The player in the small blind led out with a bet of 1,000, and Phil Hellmuth called from the under-the-gun position (it looks like he was likely the preflop aggressor). On the button, a young man squeezed in a raise to 3,700, drawing a long pause from the initial bettor. After a couple long minutes, he angrily pulled his cards out from the cap chip and sent them spinning muckward. Hellmuth, though, didn't waste much time flicking the calling chips into the pot.
That brought them heads-up to a 
river, and Hellmuth peeked back at his hole cards before firmly announcing a check. His opponent took pause for a minute and asked Hellmuth how much he had left. "About eight?" Hellmuth nodded. With that, he saw a bet of 5,500 fly in his direction, and The Brat quickly and quietly surrendered his cards. We stood by for about two minutes, waiting for the follow-up conversation, but there was none. A quiter, gentler Hellmuth simply slipped his earphones back into his ears and sat statue-still as the next hand played out.
He's left with just those ~8,000 chips now.
As that last hand was playing out, Praz Bansi noticed one of his mates walking past the table. A quiet Bansi didn't want to interrupt the players in the hand, but he let out a quick, "Hey!" to get his buddy's attention.
"You're out already?" Bansi asked him in a whisper.
The answer made us smirk as the new railbird simply shrugged and said, "Hey, it's six-max."
True enough, and friend-of-Bansi is just one of the 142 players who've already made their exits. You can add Dan Smith's name to that list as well, for that matter, as we've just seen him leaving the casino floor. Oh yeah, and there goes Howard Lederer and Nikolay Evdakov too. The notables are still falling fast here.
Ninety-six players remain.
The Shadow room has now been completely emptied, but not before Shannon Shorr lost a decent pot, he had bet 4,100 on the turn of a 
board and got called before both players checked the 
river. Shorr turned over 
but had been beat by his opponent's 
Toby Lewis has been eliminated in a hand cooler than the Artic breeze, running into preflop and failing to improve on a 
board.
It's been a hell of a month for Lewis, though, having taken down the Vilamoura EPT and finishing third in last week's World Open. A huge talent, yet so tender in years.
Jim Collopy has just been knocked out, he pushed with but ran into the original raiser's 
and couldn't hit on the 
flop. Phil Laak was thankful however, he claimed he would've pushed with 
and would now have been busted himself.
On the flop of 
, one player checked to Jeff Madsen and he fired 1,225. His opponent made the call and the turn card came the 
. Both players checked to see the pair the board on the river. The first player fired 2,700 and Madsen mucked his hand.
Madsen dropped to just under 20,000 in chips.
John Cernuto has been sent back to Miami courtesy of the American Airlines, running head-first into the 
of Allen Cunningham with 
.
He only had a few thousand at the time, and a short stack recovery looked bleak as a 
flop hit the felt. A 
turn provided unlikely outs, but no such miracle emerged as the river came a close-but-no-cigar 
