[GUEST ACCESS MODE: Data is scrambled or limited to provide examples. Make requests using your API key to unlock full data. Check https://lunarcrush.ai/auth for authentication information.]  Alec Torelli (Poker Player) [@AlecTorelli](/creator/twitter/AlecTorelli) on x 14.8K followers Created: 2025-07-21 15:23:39 UTC 2025 WSOP Review The past two summers, I came to Vegas a day before the Main. I stayed two weeks, played two tournaments, and had two deep runs: 11th in 2023 @WSOP Main, and 3rd in the 2024 Mid Stakes Championship. I was crushing, so why not come to Vegas earlier, play more tournaments, and crush even more? It was so obvious that it was destined to fail. Let’s rewind a bit. In the months leading up to the previous two WSOP’s, I prepared intensely. But I did so without pressure or expectation about the outcome. This year, I felt like I wanted (had?) to do even better. I tripled down, intensifying my workouts, meditations, studying and playing, both online and live. At some point, it became work and felt forced. I began to obsess over the WSOP. I put it on a pedestal. I cared too much. When I showed up to Vegas in mid June, I was ecstatic to compete. I had perfected my routine, down to exactly what I would eat while playing, and what I’d do before and after my sessions. I followed it to the letter the entire summer. Wake up, meditation, hydrate, XX laps in the pool, sun, lift, shower, prep, play. I did this every day for X weeks. You don’t have to review hands with friends or run sims in the lab to know how you played. Your spirit will tell you. It’s simple, really. How do you feel about your poker trip? Were you on? Did you play well? Give it your best? It’s ironic that on paper, I can really say I did all those things. In fact, it’s what I’m most proud of. That despite cashing an abysmal X out of XX buy ins, my worst WSOP in 20+ years (granted, I have only attended X or so), I stayed focused, positive, and played some very good poker. I don’t want to blame luck, because I don’t look at poker and life that way, but in the end, the cards did not land in my favor. I felt like the kid in Groundhog Day, getting to Day 2, playing a massive pot near the bubble, most of them justified, and with me as the aggressor, getting called by some random hand, being ahead and losing a pot for the chip lead. It was eerie how many times this particular distribution seemed to play out. I made plenty of mistakes during the series, sure, but I’m certain I ran below expectation. I mean, c’mon, X for XX is truly terrible. With XX% of the field cashing, even if I’m a breakeven player, I should cash 3-4 times. It’s almost like one has to try to have such a poor result. (To be fair, I did gamble on some of the rebuys in marginal spots, but even X for 15-20 would be very bad.) Please don’t think I’m looking for sympathy or venting. I enjoyed the entire summer and did exactly what I intended. No regrets. I’m writing this to analyze what happened and to learn from it. The irony of it all is right when I have my bags packed to leave Vegas, I get a text to play in a private game at Wynn. Why not? The summer can’t get much worse. I go in with no expectations of getting unstuck and just sit down to have some fun with the usual suspects, create some content, and order a few of my favorite things on the menu. In two short sessions, I won back more than what I lost in tournaments and ended the summer a winner. I like to think life is happening for me, not to me. That the world reflects back to me what I project out, like a mirror of sorts, ultimately sending me what I need at this stage of life to grow to reach the next one. I think it does that to us all. So, why did I get crushed in tournaments? What lesson am I supposed to learn? I contemplate this question as I watch Mizrachi stroll his way to victory in the Main Event, annihilating everyone in his path, seemingly without a care in the world. He wanted to win – we all do – but he didn’t seem obsessed about it, tried too hard, or was all concerned for that matter. He casually showed up as one would to a home game with friends. Sure, he played some phenomenal poker, but his jovial attitude and carefree approach were the most interesting thing to observe. Vladimir Korzinin, or 'Gambledore', achieved the same feat at Triton. He floated into the event without a care in the world, crushed all the pros, and bounced. Life seems to punish neediness, clinginess and attachment. What you need, you lack, and therefore it evades you. You know this if you’ve ever tried too hard to pursue someone of the opposite sex, sell something or land a business contract. In my experience, poker operates the same way. When I care the least, I’m playful, curious and light, and somehow seem to levitate above the game just enough to beat it with ease. I seem to run better, although that may be a cognitive bias, but for whatever reason, I win more. The irony is that poker is actually easier the less hard I seem to try and the more I relax. Does this mean you shouldn’t study or prepare? Of course not, but perhaps it does mean that how you do it matters. I found it interesting to listen to an interview with @MagnusCarlsen on Joe Rogan that he said something like he "doesn't deliberately study chess the way most people do," because it feels forced and like work. But he does process the information and think about the game all the time. He seems to approach it naturally, and it works. Perhaps then, to have the best chance of winning at poker, it must remain light, genuine, and natural. Maybe I forced the tournaments and got punished. Then I glided into the cash game and surfed my way to a massive victory. Maybe life is telling me to stop wanting and start allowing. To stop needing and start being. To stop trying and start intending. I acknowledge this may all sound like a hodgepodge of pseudoscience attempting to find correlation when there is none. Or maybe it makes complete sense, depending on how you view reality. In reviewing my summer, this is the obvious and quite immediate conclusion I came to. I’ve had many similar experiences, both “good” and “bad” in my 20+ year poker journey. I’m certain there’s something to this, although I may not have articulated it in the best way. Science, of course, cannot “explain” these things, but I feel many people have similar experiences with poker and life, so I’m putting this out there in case it helps some of you. Of course, I’d love your thoughts as well. Can you relate? Follow @AlecTorelli for more poker takes, strategies, and hand reviews. I’ll be hosting a Spaces to discuss the WSOP and all things poker at 9:30 am PST tomorrow. Would love to connect with you there! XXXXX engagements  **Related Topics** [vegas](/topic/vegas) [Post Link](https://x.com/AlecTorelli/status/1947316549536346537)
[GUEST ACCESS MODE: Data is scrambled or limited to provide examples. Make requests using your API key to unlock full data. Check https://lunarcrush.ai/auth for authentication information.]
Alec Torelli (Poker Player) @AlecTorelli on x 14.8K followers
Created: 2025-07-21 15:23:39 UTC
2025 WSOP Review
The past two summers, I came to Vegas a day before the Main.
I stayed two weeks, played two tournaments, and had two deep runs: 11th in 2023 @WSOP Main, and 3rd in the 2024 Mid Stakes Championship.
I was crushing, so why not come to Vegas earlier, play more tournaments, and crush even more?
It was so obvious that it was destined to fail.
Let’s rewind a bit.
In the months leading up to the previous two WSOP’s, I prepared intensely. But I did so without pressure or expectation about the outcome.
This year, I felt like I wanted (had?) to do even better. I tripled down, intensifying my workouts, meditations, studying and playing, both online and live.
At some point, it became work and felt forced.
I began to obsess over the WSOP. I put it on a pedestal. I cared too much.
When I showed up to Vegas in mid June, I was ecstatic to compete.
I had perfected my routine, down to exactly what I would eat while playing, and what I’d do before and after my sessions. I followed it to the letter the entire summer.
Wake up, meditation, hydrate, XX laps in the pool, sun, lift, shower, prep, play.
I did this every day for X weeks.
You don’t have to review hands with friends or run sims in the lab to know how you played. Your spirit will tell you.
It’s simple, really. How do you feel about your poker trip? Were you on? Did you play well? Give it your best?
It’s ironic that on paper, I can really say I did all those things. In fact, it’s what I’m most proud of.
That despite cashing an abysmal X out of XX buy ins, my worst WSOP in 20+ years (granted, I have only attended X or so), I stayed focused, positive, and played some very good poker.
I don’t want to blame luck, because I don’t look at poker and life that way, but in the end, the cards did not land in my favor.
I felt like the kid in Groundhog Day, getting to Day 2, playing a massive pot near the bubble, most of them justified, and with me as the aggressor, getting called by some random hand, being ahead and losing a pot for the chip lead.
It was eerie how many times this particular distribution seemed to play out. I made plenty of mistakes during the series, sure, but I’m certain I ran below expectation.
I mean, c’mon, X for XX is truly terrible.
With XX% of the field cashing, even if I’m a breakeven player, I should cash 3-4 times. It’s almost like one has to try to have such a poor result.
(To be fair, I did gamble on some of the rebuys in marginal spots, but even X for 15-20 would be very bad.)
Please don’t think I’m looking for sympathy or venting. I enjoyed the entire summer and did exactly what I intended. No regrets. I’m writing this to analyze what happened and to learn from it.
The irony of it all is right when I have my bags packed to leave Vegas, I get a text to play in a private game at Wynn.
Why not? The summer can’t get much worse. I go in with no expectations of getting unstuck and just sit down to have some fun with the usual suspects, create some content, and order a few of my favorite things on the menu.
In two short sessions, I won back more than what I lost in tournaments and ended the summer a winner.
I like to think life is happening for me, not to me.
That the world reflects back to me what I project out, like a mirror of sorts, ultimately sending me what I need at this stage of life to grow to reach the next one.
I think it does that to us all.
So, why did I get crushed in tournaments? What lesson am I supposed to learn?
I contemplate this question as I watch Mizrachi stroll his way to victory in the Main Event, annihilating everyone in his path, seemingly without a care in the world.
He wanted to win – we all do – but he didn’t seem obsessed about it, tried too hard, or was all concerned for that matter.
He casually showed up as one would to a home game with friends.
Sure, he played some phenomenal poker, but his jovial attitude and carefree approach were the most interesting thing to observe.
Vladimir Korzinin, or 'Gambledore', achieved the same feat at Triton. He floated into the event without a care in the world, crushed all the pros, and bounced.
Life seems to punish neediness, clinginess and attachment.
What you need, you lack, and therefore it evades you. You know this if you’ve ever tried too hard to pursue someone of the opposite sex, sell something or land a business contract.
In my experience, poker operates the same way. When I care the least, I’m playful, curious and light, and somehow seem to levitate above the game just enough to beat it with ease.
I seem to run better, although that may be a cognitive bias, but for whatever reason, I win more.
The irony is that poker is actually easier the less hard I seem to try and the more I relax.
Does this mean you shouldn’t study or prepare? Of course not, but perhaps it does mean that how you do it matters.
I found it interesting to listen to an interview with @MagnusCarlsen on Joe Rogan that he said something like he "doesn't deliberately study chess the way most people do," because it feels forced and like work.
But he does process the information and think about the game all the time.
He seems to approach it naturally, and it works.
Perhaps then, to have the best chance of winning at poker, it must remain light, genuine, and natural.
Maybe I forced the tournaments and got punished. Then I glided into the cash game and surfed my way to a massive victory.
Maybe life is telling me to stop wanting and start allowing. To stop needing and start being. To stop trying and start intending.
I acknowledge this may all sound like a hodgepodge of pseudoscience attempting to find correlation when there is none.
Or maybe it makes complete sense, depending on how you view reality.
In reviewing my summer, this is the obvious and quite immediate conclusion I came to. I’ve had many similar experiences, both “good” and “bad” in my 20+ year poker journey.
I’m certain there’s something to this, although I may not have articulated it in the best way.
Science, of course, cannot “explain” these things, but I feel many people have similar experiences with poker and life, so I’m putting this out there in case it helps some of you.
Of course, I’d love your thoughts as well.
Can you relate?
Follow @AlecTorelli for more poker takes, strategies, and hand reviews.
I’ll be hosting a Spaces to discuss the WSOP and all things poker at 9:30 am PST tomorrow.
Would love to connect with you there!
XXXXX engagements
Related Topics vegas