Every year around this time, someone asks me the same question: which run was the best one? People expect me to say 2003, and I get why. But that’s the easy answer, and it’s not even the most interesting one. I’ve had final tables since then that nobody brings up, results that meant more to me for reasons that have nothing to do with the size of the number on the check. Sitting here thinking back over it, the deepest runs of my career aren’t just the ones people remember. Some of the best ones are the ones almost nobody watched.

The Run Everyone Still Asks About

2003, obviously. 839 players, an $86 satellite I almost didn’t play, and a final table where I only recognized three names walking in: Phil Hellmuth, Doyle Brunson, and Johnny Chan. Everybody knows the Farha hand — I moved all-in on a J-5-4 board holding 5-4, and he folded the best hand face-up. Fewer people bring up the Ivey hand, where I called off a big pot with ace-queen against his pocket nines and got there. Two moments, same tournament, and neither one happens if I fold instead of trusting what I’d been watching all week.

“I was never gonna lose that tournament. After everything I went through, I was supposed to win it.” That’s not bravado. That’s just how it felt by the time I got to that table.

The Ones People Forget

I’ve played six Triton events. One win, three final tables, four cashes. Nobody brings those up at the bar, but that’s a field full of players who study the game for a living, and I’ve held my own in it more than once. Fifth at the Triton London Luxon Invitational in 2023 for just over two million. First at the Triton Montenegro GG Million$ in 2024 for $903,000. Third in the Mystery Bounty at that same series for $311,000.

Those runs don’t get a documentary. They don’t need one. I know what they took to get there, and that’s the part that actually matters to me now.

What Changed Between 2003 and Now

From 2005 to 2015, I never studied a single hand of poker. Almost ten years. There was too much else going on — family, business, life. “An 18-year-old kid today can have more experience than Doyle Brunson got in his entire life — in six months.” I said that about the game in general, but it applies directly to me during that stretch. I was running on instinct and old information while the game moved on without me.

The Triton runs happened after I went back to studying seriously. That’s not a coincidence. “I’m smart enough to know that’s not sustainable. I ran really good” — that’s how I feel about 2003. The recent results feel different. Those I can actually explain.

The Run That Doesn’t Get Talked About

In 2020, during the pandemic, I final tabled the ACR Venom for around $400,000 — while I was still a PokerStars ambassador. Nobody could really talk about it publicly at the time. That’s about as quiet as a deep run gets. Second place in the NBC National Heads-Up Championship in 2011 for $300,000 barely gets mentioned either, and finishing 10th at the WSOP Paradise Main Event in 2024 for half a million doesn’t come up unless I bring it up myself.

None of these needed an audience to count. They counted at the table, which is the only place they were ever going to.

The Numbers, Side by Side

Here’s the honest scoreboard, the results people actually ask about lined up next to the ones they don’t.

One of those lines gets a museum plaque. The rest just sit in a spreadsheet somewhere. I don’t rank them by the check anymore.

I don’t want to inspire people to be professional poker players. I want people to enjoy the game, take chances, change their life. That’s really what all of these runs have in common, at least from where I’m sitting — not the size of the field or the size of the number, just showing up and playing it out. The deepest run of the summer is whichever one you were actually present for.