2010 WSOP Main Event Day 3

"Hello? What time is it?" is all I can say as I pick up the phone.

"It's 7am! Why are you sleeping? Nobody sleeps in Vegas!"

It's my father on the phone. He opens his business at 3am EST during the week, so he feels he's done me a "favor" by "letting me sleep" until 7am...Eastern time.

"Dad, you do realize today is Day 3 of the Main, right? You're ridiculous, I'm going back to bed."

His response, "That's why I didn't think you'd be sleeping. Good luck."

This is where deboarding the Mojito express early yesterday comes in handy. I'm tired, but not hungover...which is huge. I'm able to sleep a couple more hours before getting up at 7am...Pacific time. Unlike most mornings recently, I spring out of bed ready to attack the day. That 2x4 that's usually jammed between each half of my brain is gone.

Being up this early, I don't know what to do with myself. I'm not nervous, but anxious beyond belief. I head downstairs and rock out to some early morning fake Billy Joel on my way to the deli to complete the usual breakfast routine. After the last couple weeks of hating this place I think I may actually miss it...eh, not really.

I eat and head back down to the pool for some hot tub time. My card won't open the pool area and I almost break the door trying to get in when one of the pool area workers tells me they don't open for another hour. I realize I've been here for over 2 weeks and had no idea when the pool opened. This gives me an opportunity to take a quick walk and work out some adrenaline...I'm definitely fired up at this point.

It's been hanging over my head for a while now, but the thought that all of this will probably be over in a matter of hours really sets in. Not just the Main Event, but this whole trip. I've been in Las Vegas for 18 days; it's starting to feel like home. Everything I do every day seems so normal, like I'm just getting myself together to go to work. But in a instant, one wrong shove, one bad card, and I'm back on a plane to Baltimore like none of this ever happened. Back to the real grind. I hope I have more time.

I'm going to do everything possible to extend this trip. I have a flight scheduled for 11am tomorrow, but I have no intention of being on it. I need a deep run. My wife's reward for putting up with this trip is getting to go to the WSOP Europe when I cash the Main. I'm close, but I'm closer to elimination.

Out of the hot tub, I check my phone to a text from Chip that reads:

"I actually think you're going to double up the first hand and I take that $30. You'll get pocket 9's and you'll get called by another short stack with pocket 7's."

I tell him:

"That's funny. All I can think this morning is that I'll have pocket 7's in the first couple of hands, shove, and will get run down with a cheap Ace."

Back at the room, I shower and get my head right. After having the whole weekend to think about it, it's time to just go do it...meet my fate or have that miracle day. Aggressive music the whole way. That's the only way I'll survive...being ultra aggressive right out of the gate.

I pull up to the Rio and park for a few minutes again. This is it. I don't care about the walk up the red carpet today. There is an unmistakable charge in the air today, much as I'm trying to ignore it. Today is the first day that everyone that's left is playing at the same time, which is pretty crazy. Someone in this room will be the next Main Event Champion. I see Richard (the Brit from Day 2) on my way in and he and I wish each other luck.

Once in the UB room, I hang out and talk to a few people. Inevitably, chip counts are exchanged. I get the "death sentence" look every time I give my lowly 20k. Kind of a half-assed goodbye.

Table 297, Seat 2. I get to my seat and find a pretty unexpected sight...no one really has a completely unreasonable stack. MW from Copenhagen, in seat 9 had about 170k. The 5 seat, a friendly older gentleman had around 70k. The 3 seat to my left was an aggressive player from Poland sitting on about 50k...everyone else was between 20k-40k. This could turn out great if they're tentative with their stacks, or terrible if they don't care anymore. I'm going after it either way. Blinds are at 500/1000 100a for an hour.

The button is announced, seat 9. I mouthed it as it was announced. I knew I'd be the BB. Trash, fold. SB..trash, fold to a raise. Five hands in, and I'm down 2k, this is not what I wanted at all. I'm 3k away from being in "must shove" mode. I take a look down at J7 with a 3bet in front...I could probably shove here to try to pick up the blinds and antes and the extra 3k. If I'm called, I'm not that disappointed, because I'm probably live. I fold. A short stack in the 6 calls. 8910 flops. I may have just lost the tourney with that fold. Both had decent enough pairs, I would've tripled up. An older woman moves into the empty seat holding about 60k.

A couple hands later, a (Russian?) girl next to me in the 1 seat shoves her remaining 40k into the big stack following a raise. She takes a coffee from the server as seat 3 instacalls. She stands and tables KK and sees his AA. AA holds up and the rich get richer. The girl throws her coffee onto her chair, just soaking the seat cushion. She starts cussing in 2 languages, grabs her coffee and slams it on the table, spraying me and the dealer. I just smile as I think it's kind of funny. The dealer's upset, and the girl's still cussing. Just then, seat 5 tries to console her.

"Honey listen, worse things can happen. In the 2005 Main Event, I had 250k in chips and..."

"I don't care about your f***ing life story old man! I lost! You're happy...so there, I lost!" She screams as she storms off, giving the man the look of death the whole way out.

Meanwhile, all I wanted to hear was, "Seat open! Table 297!!" I actually did yell it out because our dealer was rather shy and I needed that seat filled (I asked her if I could as not to be rude). The seat was eventually filled by a nice gentleman from Kentucky, the eventual "Bubble Boy".

The next hand I look down at AK off and shove. Folds around and I'm back up to 20k. An orbit later, I face a raise from the big stack to 2400, which had been pretty standard to that point. I look down at 77 and shove my remaining 19k, big stack quickly folds. The next time the button hits me, I'm on AQ with no callers and shove to take down the blinds. I think someone will call me soon, I can tell the table is getting leary. Another orbit or two later, I'm facing another raise from the big stack and shove with AK. He looks me up for a minute, but decides to lay it down. I'm still sitting around 28k.

At this point, seat 7 (probably one of the top 10 best mtt players right now) starts on a journey, the likes of which I'd never seen. He simply asks one of the massage therapists for a rub down. We've got about an hour and a half to the break.

An hour has now passed and the blinds are going up to 600/1200 200a. I'm still around 27k after another blind steal. Under the gun, I look down at AJ off and shove. Folds around to the button, older woman seat 6. She has reading glasses on and a ball cap. She looks me up and down 10 times over. She counts her chips (about 60k), she checks her cards. She waits. I know she's calling. My life tilt hand, AJ, is about to do me in on the grandest stage of them all...I'm an idiot.

"I think I have to. I call". Exactly what I expected.

She tables AQ off and is stoked to see she's ahead. I'm a little disappointed to be called by that hand with her stack, but not surprised. I've shoved a bunch of times and knew I'd be called soon enough. Q49 flops. I stand and start getting my things, as is customary at this event. 10 turn. Seat 5 gives me a look, eyebrows raised. I just shake my head, "no" to him. K snaps the river. I don't say a word, my eyes just wide open. Seat 5 tells me he knew it. I tell him I didn't. The lady in seat 6 is now fuming. I've been pierced by the eyes of some very scary/respected women in my life, but I won't soon forget this one.

My hands are actually shaking while I gather my haul. My hands haven't shook at a poker table since my first live casino tourney at the old Sands in AC. It could happen...Miracle day. There was that hand I needed to run deep. There was that hand that could give me a little breathing room today. Not much, but some.

In a familiar scene from Day 1, Johnny Chan is a few tables behind me again and is again running over everyone. I can see JS a couple tables away also. He had a big Day 2 and is doing well again today. I think he's over 250k.

A few hands later I'm in the cutoff + 1 with AJ off and decide to flat a 3bet from the big stack and try to beat him postflop. Steaming Lady seat 6 repops it to 10k and shoots those eyes at me again. She doesn't even care about the big stack. He smiles at me and folds. I lay it down also and she just keeps staring at me. I want to tell her so bad that I layed down AJ after just cracking her with it, but I think better of it.

I make a couple more light calls/raises and have to fold to a raise pre or bet postflop in a very active first part of the 600/1200 level and drop back down to 50, then 46k. The Polish guy in seat 3 is very aggressive and pushing his stack around a lot...he's the one catching me light most of the time. Seat 5 notices what he's doing and I can tell he's biding his time before he attacks. I get chopped down to around 40k before I decide to do something about it. Just before the break, the big stack seat 9 3bets in early position. I make quickly make it 10k with Q10 suited. Folds around to him and he mucks. I make another steal from the button in the last hand of the level to get up to 55k.

I send out a flurry of texts as I head to the UB room. A few looks of shock as people started to trickle back in. When told I had nearly tripled up through the first couple of hours, people would actually talk to me without that sound of dispair. The UB room proved to be handy again as today was the first day I didn't bring a sweatshirt because aside from that couple of minutes in the Pavillion, it's been rather warm, not freezing like everyone says. I told one of the reps that it was freezing where I was and he brought out a selection of hoodies for me to choose from.

A text from my poker partner back home "Hank Azaria has 105k...you better double up. This is embarrassing."

Back to the action and we're still at 600/1200 200a for the next hour. Also back to action is massage therapist on seat 7's back. I look up this and am amazed/impressed/relaxed just watching it. What did that girl do while we were on break? Was she standing by his empty chair for 20 minutes?

Just then Norman Chad starts circling our table to take notes his coverage. On Day 1, I heard him talking s**t on the Orioles to Mike Sexton, so I decide to call him out on it as he walks past me.

"Mr. Chad. I heard you running your mouth about the Orioles the other day, and I want you to know I think it's BS" I call to him.

"Who was I talking to?" he whines.

"I was at the table next to Sexton on Day 1 when I heard what you said. Once a fan, always a fan. Don't trash them now because they're bad"

Seat 7 chimes in, "They just swept Boston, they're on a roll!"

Norman mumbles something and walks away.

I look at the chip counts every day and find the people from Maryland, the Ft. Lauderdale area, and the Atlantic City area to see if I know any of them. I didn't know many people at all, and some were people that I knew in name only. What happens next shocked even me.

"You're an O's fan. Are you from Maryland?" I ask seat 7.

"Yep" he answered.

"Is your name *****?"

"Yep" is all he said.

Of the people I didn't know from Maryland on that list, his is literally the only name I remembered and I don't know why.

Big stack seat 9 is looking at me like I just walked on water.

"What's my name?" he asks.

"Dude, I have no idea what your name is" I tell him, but he's persistent.

"Just guess. You guessed his name, guess mine" he continues. I tell him I can't even place his accent to be able to venture a guess.

"Just try it" he says.

I really think he thinks I'm going to get his name right. Seat 7 tells he'll have his name in a minute and pulls out his iphone.

"I'm going with Pierre, man. I don't even think you're French, I just have no idea" I laugh as I make my guess.

Seat 7 proceeds to tell him his name and where he's from using the internet. We all make formal introductions and laugh at the exchange. A fun moment for sure in the midst of a pressure filled day...well maybe not for seat 7, who's still being massaged.

After a couple orbits, I've only made a position raise to maintain the stack at 53k. The next hand I'm facing a raise of 4k from middle position. I look down at 89 clubs...the hand of so much discussion last night. A couple hours ago, I'm shoving here, instead I fold. He shows AJ off.

I bleed chips for another 2 or 3 orbits and am down to around 45k. I try to limp into a pot from early position with 56 hearts. It folds to the big stack in seat 9. He checks. We both check a Q49 rainbow flop. Q hits the turn, he checks, I bet about 2/3 pot and he calls. A hits the river, he checks, I bet 2/3 pot again and he folded. I'm definitely in control again, and I'm pretty sure the big stack may fear me. The chip stack is back to 57k.

Just before the blinds move up to 800/1600 200a, I'm able to lay down AJ off one more time when I flat a standard preflop raise from a short stack, then seat 3 repops. Short stack folds as do I. Seat 3 shows AA, short stack says he had AJ, don't know about that.

I start out the next level pushing around the big stack, reraising his raises when I think he's light, cbetting flops out of position. I have a ridiculous read on him right now. I get the stack back to the 60k by doing this. I realize I'm being respected by the table as well. I find that no one really wants to tangle with me, and am able to stay afloat because of it. I end up hitting the next break at 55k again, there are 1800 people left.

I get into the next level ready to maintain my selective aggression. Seat 7 is getting into the next level with more massaging.

"*****, that is seriously the most epic massage I've ever seen with clothes on" I tell him. It really is unbelievable. I don't know how this girl can even feel her hands.

The aggressive pace backfires on me right out of the gate coming out of the break when I try to double barrel with A4 clubs and get shoved upon. I try some preflop raises in position but get raised on and have to fold. It seems the good hands have dried up and the rest of the table is catching up to me in terms of preflop aggression. I'm not able to steal like I have been and the hands are just awful. I'm starting to trickle down to 40k.

Down to almost 30k, and the blinds about to go up to 1k/2k 200a the next hand, I make a preflop raise with QJ to 3500, which is pretty standard at this point. I'm called by seat 9, which is who I want to call. 9102 flops and I cbet to seat 9's call. This worries me as I'm pretty committed to this hand now. Turn is garbage and I fire out a substantial bet. Seat 9 looks me over, sees my now very short stack behind and gives me a look that lets me know he's good. Then he folds. My heart is racing as I thought my tourney was about to be on a draw, but I somehow got away with that to creep back up to about 46k.

A couple rounds pass and my stack is down to 39k. I'm in UTG+2 and look down at AA. I bump it to 5k and get flat called by the short stack. J28 flops and I bet another 5k to his instashove. I call and he tables AJ. A huge near double up to 71k!!!! We're getting close to the dinner break and I'm thinking I can definitely make it through the day.

Two hands later I'm in the BB. The aggressive Polish seat 3 has about 80k raises to 8k. It folds around to seat 9 with about 170k, who reraises to 20k. I look down at KK. I shove without hesitation. I'm 90% sure seat 3 doesn't have AA and I'm 100% sure seat 9 doesn't. Seat 3 folds, seat 9 is put to the decision. He starts writhing around and wringing his hands. He asks for a count. I'm really confident at this point, because now I know for sure my hand's good, and if he folds, I'm up to around 100k. He looks me over, but doesn't know what to do. This is exactly what I want. I've been pounding on him all day, and I'm pretty sure he's going to call because of it.

"You really look like you have aces" he says to me.

I nod my head and say, "It should."

Finally, he stands and says, "F*** it. I've got to see them if you've got them. I call"

Seat 9 tables QQ and we both stand. Nearly 160k in the pot, and a chance for that Miracle Day. The dealer spreads the flop. His hands are covering the window, and the flop from my view.

"Oh No" I hear the older gentleman in seat 6 say with real compassion.

I didn't look, I knew what happened. When I actually did see the flop, my body jerked away from it like watching a car crash. My ipod, in which only one of the earbuds was in, went flying off the table as I jerked away.

It's tough to say exactly what happens from here. I don't really remember. I know what it's like to be physically knocked out. I was a goalie in lacrosse for years, I know what it's like to be hit in the nuts as hard as you can imagine. It was a combination of both at that moment. I don't remember leaving the table or the poker room at all. ESPN's camera's could've been in my face the whole time and I wouldn't have seen them. Instant migrane.

I do remember walking into the UB room saying something along the lines of "I'm out. I just lost a 160k pot to get back in it. I had K's, he had Q's and hit his Q. Thanks for everything."

At least I'm pretty sure that's what I said. I don't at all remember leaving the Rio, driving down Flamingo for the last time, or walking into the V. The next thing I remember I'm walking into a very busy Cut bar to give Chip a UB hat I had got for him. He had just got a text from me about 20 minutes prior that said I had doubled up, so he was confused to say the least.

"Buddy, what the hell happened?" I was still in shock. I tried to explain as best I could, but I didn't want to talk about it. I still had my patches on and such, so people wanted to come listen to the story, but I had to leave. I hadn't really processed what just happened so I couldn't talk about it with strangers just yet.

The emotional swing of doubling up with aces and getting it all in 2 hands later knowing you're at least 80% and losing is tough to handle. I called my wife, who was getting updates from my partner. She was estatic at first because she thought I was calling about the double up. When I told her what happened, she broke into tears. Not because I lost, because we knew that was a big possibility, but because she wasn't there and knew how close I had gotten to achieving my ultimate goal while here, which was to cash the main.

After I got off the phone, I decided to do what I was supposed to do tonight...go to Batistas. I went there right from the V and got a table alone. I had no idea about the free unlimited wine when I went in, as I had planned on crushing a bottle anyway. I proceeded to smash a giant carafe of red and a plate of chicken parm. I know this hangover is going to hurt on the plane ride home, but I don't care.

I head back to the IP after dinner and get a few triple Captain and Gingers as dessert. I know I'm hanging out with Chip later, but I need something to do now. Not having someone to talk to after something like this really is tough. The hand keeps playing over and over in my head. I drink more.

After packing up (which in a drunken stupor was a great idea as there's no way I could've done it in the morning), I go downstairs for more drinks. While slamming another Captain, I say F' it I'm going to be a Strip person tonight. I haven't seen lingerie models be pirates at TI. I haven't even seen the volcano at Mirage go off and it's directly across the street. I load up on more alcohol and make my way up the Strip. I don't remember much of either, but I'm sure they were nice.

After cruising around, I head over to Caesars to find Michael from London and tell him what happened. By the time I get there, I've been walking the Strip for a couple hours and am hammered and sweaty. I find him as I thought I might, at the $80 nightly tourney. I tell him my beat and the table winces. He assures me there'll be worse beats...again, sage advice from a youngster. He'll be OK in this game if he keeps his head straight. We say our goodbyes and wish each other well. I run into JT from Day 1 also, who casually tells me he made it through to Day 4. I wish him luck and leave.

Chip is off as I make my way back to the IP. It's about 1am and I'm pretty much incoherent at this point. I know we went to Kaizen on Paradise for sushi at around 3am. I don't know if this was a good idea or not, but I think it was delicious. I remember an avocado train. Chip and I said our goodbyes and I assured him I'd be back in less than 4 years this time. In fact, I'll probably be back for the Fall DSE at the V.

So here I am. What I wrote weeks ago has come true. My worst fear about this trip is now a reality. I feel like I played really good poker, but didn't get the results I wanted. I understand variance. I also understand that my game needs work, especially handling my emotions. But what I also understand is that I've been playing against some of the best this game has to offer for the last couple of weeks and it's clear that I belong.

There's no way I don't play the Main again next year. The structure just suits my style too much not to. As bad as it hurts right now after taking such an awful beat on such a big stage at such a crucial point, I'd do it all again right now.

Seat 9 went on to a top 30 finish to cash for over $300k, so good for him. At least he didn't donk off my chips.

In the end, I learned a lot from this trip. About myself, my poker game, and about life in general. It has also given me a realistic goal to attain every year. At this point in my life without playing the hours online that I need to, I probably can't do this professionally. I can however, try to play my way into these couple of weeks every year and take my shots at the big time, if only for a short time.

Sunday Celebrity Status

The phone just keeps ringing...or is that my head? Nope, it's my definitely my phone. I answer to my wife saying, "Are you watching this???!!!" I tell her I have no idea what she's talking about, I am just waking up at the crack of 1pm. "The World Cup final! There's no way you forgot about it!" I am a huge WC fan, but as I've said before, I just haven't been watching TV at all, so I did totally forget about it. It's already halftime as I fire up the huge 20" screen on my in-room TV at the IP. As much fun as it probably is downstairs/next door/in the streets, I have no desire to leave my room at this point because of another monster hangover.

Here I am, my third weekend in Vegas, and I'm breaking so many of the rules I set for myself before I left. I didn't want to drink too much...that one's long gone. I wanted to maintain a regular eating/excercise/sleep schedule...no chance. I wanted to treat every tournament the same regardless of the buy in...didn't happen. I'm now at the point where the only poker I have left to play on this trip is the Main where I'm super short...unless I try to satellite my way into the V's DSE Main Event, which is also tomorrow. This is an idea I had last night while pounding one of many Captain and Gingers. What if I try to win my way into the DSE Main, then if I bust early in the WSOP Main, I can just come right over and play the DSE Main? Chip thinks this is a great idea, but when I finally emerge from my room I decide there's no way I can do this. I don't want to take anything from my play in the WSOP Main, short or not. I still have a chance and I don't want to sell myself short. I'm going to the V this afternoon anyway so I'll check it out, but I'm not going to play.

I have to go to the V today so I can redeem my comps for the DSE events I've played. For every entry, you are allowed a $10 food comp, or you can get a t shirt (cool design), hat, or card protector (really neat design and very heavy). This is a great way to stock up on gifts for my friends back home and I never used them for food, so grab my stack of entries and head out. I take the long way in walking to the V just to get a little excercise and think. I get a text from Chip that says he's working but wants to know what I'm doing today because he's got me "all set up". I don't know what this means, but I soon find out. After loading up at the V's poker gift shop, I head over to Cut to give Chip his card protector and find out what he means. He again asks what I'm doing today, but has an undeniable smirk when asking. I tell him I'm probably going to the pool at IP for a while to search for the Last Unicorn again. Then I'm going to eat somewhere good, since this will probably be my last night to be able to do something like that. He tells me that is perfect, and that I'm ready to go...now. Chip proceeds to tell me that he made some calls earlier in the day, and that the VIP host is expecting me at Encore Beach Club if I want to go to the pool. Also the manager at Postrio, another Wolfgang Puck restaurant, is expecting me for dinner later this evening. It's getting close to 3pm, so I ask if it's too late to go to Encore. He responds, "Dude, it's never too late to look at 10's". Touche'. After thanking Chip, I feel my hangover starting to clear up and my pace quickens to an almost power walk as I make my way back to the IP to grab some pool attire.

I text the host at Encore as I pull up to the garage. Now I've seen Rehab as a television show, but I've never been to a pool of this caliber so I'm not really sure what to expect here. I know some of these places are wild, but I expected Encore to just be a bunch of trust fund baby dolls laying by the pool. When I hit the entrace and caught a glimpse of what I was about to get into, I almost cried/walked away/pitched a tent/cried again. I meet the host as he's getting b****ed at for not letting in Larry Hughes, the (former?) NBA player. As this is happening, I get walked past the line, security, and very importantly, the window where you pay the $50 cover charge. The host walks me to the bar and I can't even talk. He asks if everything is OK, and I assure him that everything is more than OK. He tells me he heard that I'm on to Day 3 of the Main, and that I should come back next week if I smash it. As he says this, a few bikini-clad "people" hear him and I'm an "instant celebrity". We talk for a while and I decide to roam and explore this unbelievable aquatic utopia. The music is thumping, the drinks are flowing, and everyone is dancing. I throw down a few $20 mojitos and start to feel the beat. I eventually get in the pool and try to act as uncreepy as one could alone at a place like this. It dawned on me that I was successful when approached by another group of bikini's that weren't cocktail servers. I hang out for here for a couple of hours, not really wanting to leave. To say that Encore Beach Club is a little bit different than the pool at the IP is like saying Marisa Miller is little bit different than Chelsea Clinton. This was definitely a good decision on Chip's part.

After changing, I head back over to the V for dinner at Postrio. I take a seat at the bar and marvel at the fake St. Mark's Square like a tourist. In a fantastic move on my part, I make the switch to ginger citrus iced tea instead of continuing the mojito train. The Heirloom tomato Caprese was superb. The Chicken Piccata was just OK. The manager makes his way to the bar and talks about the WSOP like I've won the thing already. He comps most of my meal and I leave feeling good.

I hang out with Chip for an hour or two after and discuss tomorrow. I've added up all our strategic conversations from this weekend and have come up with a plan that unfortunately, I'm ready to follow. I have 1 hour left of blinds at 500/1000 100a. This means I have 2 orbits (20 hands) to determine which is the hand I'll hang my tournament on, assuming I'm not BB first. Of course if I find myself in a spot where I can position shove to pick up the blinds and antes, I will. I think the key to tomorrow will be staying over 15k for the first hour. Once I get below 15k, I'm going to have to shove Ace or Face (or worse). That is a sickening feeling, the thought that I literally may have to just shove anything for $10,000. I hate playing poker like this in a $50 tourney, let alone one for $10k.

We discuss many, many scenerios that I may encounter and try to determine whether I'm pushing or not. The main hand that we disagree on most is 89 suited. He asks if I'd shove this hand, and I instantly say I will, without question. He thinks I should only play this hand if there is already a raise and some callers in front, I don't. If this were the middle of Day 1, and I had a bunch of chips to do something like that with, I would. But I'll take the implied odds of that hand right now. I try to explain that 20 hands is not a lot (which he knows), and if I come across a hand like that I'm going to use it. Chip just cannot believe I'd put $10k on a hand like that. I tell him I'd rather it be 89 suited than 103 off and I'm forced to shove because I only have 13 BB's left. We agree to disagree here. He doesn't think I'm going to need to make this decision anyway; that I'm going to double up in the first 10 hands. I wind up making a $30 bet with him that I won't double up in the first 10 hands. So to recap, yes, I just covered a $10,000 bet with $30...seems smart! I make my way out of the V and head "home". Around 1am, Chip calls to see if I want to go to his friends house to cookout and drink. I ask if he remembers that I'm playing the Main in 11 hours. He said he does, he just wanted another opportunity to talk me out of playing 89 suited...

Last Saturday in Vegas?

I wake up even later than normal today. The combination of booze, Dealertainers, another way too late dinner, and the "WTF happened yesterday???" have all destroyed my brain this morning/afternoon. Luckily, I called the airline in a drunken stupor last night/early morning to switch my flight so I don't have to worry about that. I do however need to talk to the car rental office since the Kia was supposed to be back 3 hours ago. I've been using an aircard for my laptop while in the room, and while it hasn't been the fastest internet connection, it has been serviceable. Today for some reason though, I couldn't get a signal on the computer or my phone...at all. I could go outside and get a signal on the phone for about a minute, but then it would cut out. I'm getting frustrated after an hour of trying different locations in the room, rebooting, and even taking the laptop outside for a while so I can get some things done. Nothing. After nearly throwing everything off the balcony (which must be a favorite past time of IP guests, because there is everything from cigarette butts, plates, phonebooks, and even underwear on the ground below from people chucking it off the balcony), I decide to just drive to the airport and renew my contract for the car. A hassle, but I don't really have anything important to do otherwise. After getting yelled at by Enterprise because the car was due back this morning and they couldn't reach me on my phone, I finally get everything cleared up (I had another issue with them in that I didn't bring the credit card I used to pay for everything initially, and you can't pay for the same rental on 2 cards, but we worked it out). I then head over to the Rio to pick up a couple new patches for Monday. I only walked through the poker pavillion for a minute, I didn't even care what was going on for Day 2B. As I walk in, I enter on the side where Feature Table #3 is (where I played yesterday) and see a huge crowd gathered around the rail. I guess everyone is there to see Allen Cunningham...I'm not impressed (long story on AC, another time, and probably not for public knowledge).

I'm walking out of the Rio when I look down at a text that reads, "I don't care how many chips you have going into Day 3. If Lou Diamond Phillips can crack the top 200 in 2009, you can definitely cash this thing." I laugh out loud and try to find some food. I've been craving Mexican the whole time I've been here and decide I'm going to search for an "off the beaten path" restuarante. I head back over to the other side of Flamingo and turn down Maryland Ave. I finally come across El Patio, which looks like a run down little strip center Mexican joint...my kind of place. The only problem is it's directly across the street from an In N Out, so if El Patio turns out to be bad, it'll really be in my face. A couple of fish tacos later, I'm relatively satisfied (well, at least I don't have to get a 2x2 on the way back).

I head to the pool for a while before playing the 7pm at the V. I saw something today that rarely happens at the IP...a 9 at the pool! This is an historic moment for the IP pool I believe. She may have even been a 10, but I was trying not to stare as I don't think I could've taken all her meat head friends that were with her, and I definitely wasn't in the mood for a beat down. I feel like I just saw the last unicorn. Truely an unexpected sight at the IP. This actually gives me a little more confidence heading into Monday...if there can be a 9 at the IP pool, I can survive Day 3!

I draw the 6 seat for the nightly V, which I'm pretty happy about. One of the many problems I have with my game is apparent tonight...I don't care if I win tonight or not, I just want to relax and have a good time. This is a terrible way to play, but it just happens sometimes. It's funny, I play so little online that entering a $100 tourney seems like a million dollars online, but live I'd enter 5 $100 tourneys in a day like they're $10 tourneys if I could. I have no idea why I do this, it makes no sense and it's something I'm working hard on correcting. Anyway, I sit down to what appears to be a pretty soft table. The guy to my right is a super nice Scottish man, and to my left, an Irishman that busted out of the Main on Day 1. We talk for a while as the Scott has AA 3x, AK 2x, QQ once, and AQ suited 2x...all in the first 2 levels! He stacks up a bit, but failed to get paid on most. I pull a couple floats to maintain my stack through the first couple of levels. I'm also able to pick up a decent pot against a very inexperienced young woman that called me down the whole way with 2nd pair, when I flopped a straight. I then pick up AK suited in early position and I 3x raise. The button, an older gentleman that I just watched call an AI with A10 off, shoves. I don't even think, I call in a second. He shows QQ, I spike a A on the flop, he backdoors a straight. I lose about half my stack. I maintain, just having a good time for the next couple of levels. After the second break, a huge stack has moved to our table. He's a young Norwegian player that seems pretty strong. I watch as he gets moved on with AK to his QQ. K spikes and he looks super dejected. His stack is still in good shape and I ask why he's so down. He says that's the 31st straight coinflip he's lost since he's been in Vegas. He's dead serious as he says this. I don't believe him, but he proceeds to tell me he's been here for a month and a half and doesn't have a cash in anything, or even close. He tells me he's a pretty accomplished online player, but has lost 15k in small tournaments while here. At this time, I'm getting a little short on chips as the blinds keep rising. I shove 77, the Norwegian calls with QQ again. I hit a 7 on the turn and I thought he would cry. I seriously felt horrible about what just happened. I talk with him a little more during another break, and he has really been taking some awful beats. About 45 minutes later, he's put to the test again when shoved into, this time he's calling with AK suited against JJ. JJ holds up and he's put out of the tournament. "Make that 32 straight flips" is all he can say as he stands up. I console him for a minute and tell him it definitely will get better, sometimes this stuff just happens. As I see him, shoulders and head down, that glazed look in his eyes, I realize that my luck could be a lot worse. I hope it works out for him, he was a nice kid that was just on an awful run. Again approaching a short stack, I wind up calling an AI from the same guy that got me earlier. I have KQ hearts, he has 33. K78, 2 hearts flop, turn is another K, river is...3. The Norwegian's luck has rubbed off on me! Twice now I get this guy on the flop, only to be run down. Oh well, I'm not too upset about it, I had a good time and got to talk to some good people at this table. Knowing I wasn't playing on Sunday, and Monday could be my last day in Vegas, I sign up for the 1/2 game at the V.

A guy from New Jersey fills the 7, and I the 8 seat at one of the 1/2 tables. We talk for a few minutes and determine that he's doing the same thing I am...playing some poker now so he can take Sunday off and be ready for Day 3. He is short as well at around 40k going into Monday. The table seems pretty managable; there's only one young Asian with about $700 in front of him, everyone else is within 1-1.5 buyins. Almost immediately, I'm able to put some fear into the table using a read, and a good hand. UTG (who is another young Asian that is always very calculating) raises to $11, Jersey calls, I call with 1010, and BB calls. JK4 flops and it somehow checks around. The 10 hits the turn and we're off. BB opens for $15, UTG raises to $30, Jersey pops it to $80 with a quickness. BB has a sick look and everyone looks confused. After looking them over, I know I'm good, so I shove. BB tanks for a long time and folds, UTG does the same. Jersey starts cracking up and shows me 82. BB asks me like 10 times what I had, because he had AJ. I give him some possibilities then say, "Look, that guy was lying from the start(talking to UTG), and I know you saw it too (talking to Jersey). Unfortunately, I think you just got stuck in the middle of a s**t show (talking to BB)". Jersey just laughs more as now BB is half tilted and UTG looks more than a little distraught. While I did know UTG and Jersey were lying, I actually wasn't sure what BB had, I just didn't think he'd call an AI without AQ, JJ, or KJ there, and I believe he bets KJ on the flop which eliminates that hand. I then put on the headphones and look coy, hoping to get another hand now knowing I'm going to get action. I push the big stack around a few times by floating; he has no interest in playing with me at all. A new guy comes to the table and we get involved in a hand together. I'm holding 35diamonds and raise to $10 from middle position, new guy calls from the SB. A106 with 2 diamonds flops. He bets $35, and I call. The turn is an off 4, and he fires out $75. I tank and inexplicably fold. This was a major mistake, and I didn't think this hand through correctly before I folded. He actually asked for a rabbit and it was the 7 of diamonds. I was not happy with my play there, and the guy immediately leaves after that hand. Only a couple of hours into play, I'm up a hundred or so when Chip says he's getting off of work soon and wants to party. I decide to play another orbit and rack up. The last hand of the night proved fruitful when I called the tilted BB from before with a flush draw that hit on the river. This nets me another hundred and I'm out. I stand to leave and tell the guy, "10's". He asks if I had pocket 10's, or just a 10 as I walk away.

The rest of the night is dominated by consumption. After walking back to IP to realize we can't have the Fried Green Tomato Stack from Hash House one last time(I cannot express in print how unbelievably delicious this is), we turn around and walk back to the V to grab tons of comped food from Grand Lux, and another boatload of cocktails. On the way back to my room at the IP, Chip says, "16 is going to hit at roulette on the next spin. Let's give Carrie Underwood a hundred and play it". I tell him he's ridiculous and start walking away...Chip's been known to love the roulette table a little more than the average degen and I don't want to get caught up in it with him. I try to get him to walk away as Carrie says there's no more bets. 16 obviously hits and he's pissed. I just cost him $700 because he was going to put $20 on it 5 times in a row. I try to make up for it in more cocktails, but I don't think it dulled the pain of his loss. A few/10 more drinks and we're done for the night. Chip makes his stumble back to his car at TI, and I pass out, still having a whole other day before I meet my fate, whatever that may be...