Four Days in the Desert - Day 4

Finally, I'm wrapping this thing up. Amazing that I got the trip report out before I found myself back in Vegas (that would be mid-January).

Day 4.  Of course, I don't request a late checkout even though I'm red-eyeing it back. So I have to be out by 11am, and I crashed sometime around 5.  Easy.

Up, shower, pack, and check out right on time.  Absinthetics was kind enough to offer his room up to keep my bags in. His mistake as I undoubtedly woke him up for it.  Lesson taught to another American - don't offer Canadians kindnesses, we'll assume you're sincere and take you up on them :).

Bags stowed, I made my way to the Aria sportsbook bar for some good ol' fashioned... umm... whatever is done at the bar by the sportsbook. See, I ain't much of a football fan, but I do like seeing people.  So I hung out, grabbed some quesadilla and wings and beer, and chatted a bit.

At some point, Jordan announced there was cake coming.  It showed up. It looked like this:



It turns out that Pokerist sponsored a whole bunch of stuff for our charming group of degenerates. An extra grand into the team last longer, a bar and food tab on Sunday, and this lovely cake that was about 5x more cake than was needed to feed our group. It was rather tasty to boot, and apparently made by the premiere Vegas cake-makers. I also hear it weighed about a ton.

Very cool of them.

People cheered and sweat and cried about their sportsball teams winning or losing or beating spreads or somesuch.  Myself and OhCaptain opted to wander a bit with cameras in hand.

Between Aria and Crystals is this sculpture:



The ol' refocus your eyes for 3D trick.

We made our way to The Bellagio to see their winter display.  We voted unanimously that it was last year's re-organized and therefore not all that impressive. I have pictures of the penguins and igloos and such, but the reality is that I'm not overly thrilled with most of what I grabbed.  Maybe I'll be able to edit them enough to find something interesting, but for now, there's this:



Outside the Bellagio, we crossed the driveway to see what we could see. Turns out, you can see Paris.



From there, I didn't get too much, but the Cap'n kept snapping.  Hopefully he'll have those pictures posted somewhere at some point. We swung by M&M World, a stop I figured I wouldn't be making this trip, and of course picked up a bag of coconut M&Ms.

Can I mention that the street mascots are all a bit creepy? I can? Good, because they are.

Wandered back through Monte Carlo to Aria, a route that would come in handy later when I was schlepping my bag down the strip. It was determined that the Monte Carlo is about the most boring casino on the strip. Zero character, zero effort.  It was an excitement-sucking vortex of meh.

It was a good walk with another photographer. The last time Cap and I wandered around with our cameras (outside of the Neon Boneyard, but that's different) was Niagara Falls at Eh-Vegas a few years ago. I'm always intrigued by the pictures other people see and their attitudes towards photography.  One of the most fun ways to learn anything is from someone else.

Back at home base, I found myself with time to spare. The Sportsbook bar was dying down, the marathoners were warming up, and the bar was largely empty.  I decided to roll some dice.

Big mistake.

I was impressed Aria was running $10 tables, so I opted for them instead of the $15. Oops. The $15 table was cheering for hours. My table was ICE FUCKING COLD. I blew through my buy-in in around 30 minutes and was down for the trip because of it. Shit. The table was empty and stayed that way for at least an hour afterwards. Nobody was going near the cursed felt.

I, however, couldn't resist the siren call of the Blazing 7's machine. Which promptly handed me around $500 or so, easing my pain.  During this, April let me know that there was an entourage heading to Mandalay Bay to cheer on the marathoners.

Right, the runners. So a bunch of our group was running in a half marathon because they are insane I assume. By this point they'd been pounding the pavement for a while and were expected to hit the finish line in the not-too-distant future. The tale that ran beneath this whole trip was Dan training this group to run this thing, and the tragedies both major and minor that were befalling them in the final days.

Dan almost didn't make it to Vegas because of cancelled flights, but was saved by blogger hearts.

Much bigger was Otis. His father passed away days before, and it was widely expected that he wasn't going to make the trip so soon after the funeral. Nobody could possibly blame him for wanting to spend time with his family, grieving someone who sounds like a great dad. Our thoughts were all with him.

Then the note from him - he was coming after all. His family had convinced him that he couldn't abandon what he'd spent the better part of the year working towards. He needed this run. He needed the accomplishment. And he needed his friends. As word spread among our group, smiles went with it. Partly because we all wanted to see the guy, and largely because we here happy for him and his ability to complete this journey.

They all finished. Otis raising his hands in victory and creating a memory for everyone watching. Or so I hear.  Pauly sums it up well over here.

See, I had grabbed my bags and meandered towards Manadaly Bay (no easy feat with a stuffed check bag in tow). But by the time I got there, the group had already made it out to the street to cheer the runners. Cell service was crap out there, so tweets and texts looking for them went unheeded. I finally figured out where they were after a quick run-in with Garth, and realized there was no way I was getting to them with bag in tow.  The bell desk was a nightmare with all the runners and guests, so I found a spot, and kept an eye out, but saw nobody I knew. I eventually had to turn around find my way to a cab and my flight. I wish I'd been able to stay the extra day so I could have better participated in the festivities.

At least there was Twitter so I could send my congrats and follow along with the action from afar.

I joined the throngs of runners and their friends and family leaving Mandalay via tram. I wandered the bridge to the Tropicana, snapping shots along the way.



I feared the closures and increase in people would result in a taxi issue, so I had budgeted extra time for the airport trip. Turns out I either timed things well or was wrong.  The taxi stand at the Trop had a few people, but nothing tragic.  The first cab that pulled up took a couple people, and the next guy in line begged to come along, as it was an SUV and he was also going to the airport with his wife. The cabbie agreed and then asked if anyone else was going to the airport solo.  I raised my hand and skipped the line.

Immediately the driver was letting us know how pissed he was with the marathon. The shift to a night run (it had previously been in the afternoon) really screwed things up for the cab industry that night. Road closures, HUGE traffic jams, and a lot of pissed off tourists had made for a bad night. We were his first Tropicana pickup (a favourite spot of his) and first airport run of the night. Refreshing surliness aside, he was the best cabbie I'd had this trip.  He backroaded and shortcut to avoid traffic and we were there in no time. As we approached McCarran he pointed at the highway - backed up for miles as traffic hit the Strip, and we were all glad we had a guy who knew what he was doing.

I was the first drop, and he came out to grab my bags for me. I handed him double the total fare and wished him a better night. I figured after all the crappy cabs I'd had so far, this guy deserved my appreciation.  I have no idea what he got from the other two groups in there, but I hope they tipped well.

Airport was a breeze, no crowds, no lines. Leaving me with tons of time to spare.

Sadly, food options were severely limited, and after Jaleo, Raku, and Carnevino, I was forced to order from royalty, his highness, the Burger King. Talk about a long fall. Still, it was food-like, and it filled a hole.

Flight home was spent largely asleep, and all was well. Another trip over. Down cash, up far more in worth was the fun and memories.  I can't wait to do it all again next year.  By then I expect someone will have created a time dilation device so that we can all hang out a bit more.  There's never enough time.

Four Days in the Desert - Day 3

Let's see if I can get this one in a single post.

Saturday - Tournament day! We'll get to that.

So, up at the crack of enough-time-for-breakfast. I fire out a "anyone want more Wicked Spoon?" tweet, only be told Maigrey beat me to the punch because it was so awesome the day before. So I tag along with group, getting there about a plate or two in. Still, it's plenty of time to sample what I missed the day before (still very good) and head to the tournament.

See, that wasn't so painful. I pied-pipered the group back through Crystals to the poker room at Aria, signed up both myself and my last-longer team, caught up with some folks, grabbed BrainMC's nuts, and found my seat.

Oh wait... before it all started, we grabbed the group photo.  I played backup photog in a crappy spot, while OhCaptain perched on high to get what I assume are better pictures.  However, here is the best I grabbed.



Who was I seated with? It's been a while, so apologies to the one person I think I'm forgetting.  There was CJ, Drizz, Alcanthang, Maigrey, Jordan's buddy, a couple women I didn't know, eventually WhoJedi I think, and the mystery person my brain refuses to acknowledge even though I knew them.

Anyway, cards in the air, chatter and bounties and all that.  Hey! Jd, rest of the Royal on the board! Awh, couldn't get the final call on the river, showed the stone cold nuts anyway. Up a bit.  Ooo! Aces.  Won a little. Hammer drop (first at the table).  Al saw into my soul when the 7 hit on the turn and wisely folded, yes a legit hammer win.

Then I bled chips for a while... NOBODY got knocked out until PokerVixen saw the rail after the 2nd round. Then people relaxed, knowing they wouldn't own a copy of Gigli.  I went down sometime after the break when I shoved my KK preflop and Al called with AQ because he wanted my bounty (pic of your choice).  JT7 flop. Yah, no doubt here... K on the turn for my set, his nut straight, and I went home.  Seems only fair that I got KO'd by Al (who ran like a god for most of the tournament I hear), a minor bit of retribution for our HU battle a couple years back.  So yet another blogger gets a copy of the Vegas sunrise shot.  I should get on contacting Al about that.

So I'm out. I'm not particularly upset about it. Disappointed, sure, but it's hard to get mad in a friendly game like this one.I wander a bit, tell Dawn that she's the lone shining light for Team Bedrock (BrainMC being KO'd a few minutes before me), and decide to wander a bit.  Back to the room for a bit, and I fire out a text asking where I'm having dinner and with whom.  CK gets back to me pronto and plans are made.

Showered, changed, and back downstairs I once again swing by the tournament, shoot the shit a bit, and go back out on the floor (because watching live poker, even when it's friends, is boring, and I feel like I'm intruding on their play).  I wander by a bank of slots.

Normally, I ignore the video penny slots that nobody understands the workings of. 15 lines? 5 credits per line? No idea what wins? It's basic insanity. But one caught my eye.  "Do you like games with Gladiators?" DO I?? Airplane! The slot machine!

I plunk my ass down, drop $100 in, and bet the max.  BONUS!  Touch a square! Huh? Er... ok... touch.. nothing... touch... nothing.  Touch the right thing -- BONUS!! Touch passengers! Uh... ok... touch... touch... touch... bonus, bonus, bonus. Super bonus! Double bonus! Spinny give me money bonus! I have no idea what's going on, but I keep winning. On my first spin. Oh hell do I like games with gladiators.

When it finally ends, I have something like 18000 credits. Sweet. $180. Seems like a lot of work for $80 though. Wait... that's waaay more than I started with. Oh! It's a nickel machine! $900! Wheee.

So I play it down a bit. Hit another bonus, play that down and cash out. Put in another hundo, hit more bonuses, and cash out. I walk away with around $1100.  That definitely makes up for lack of tournament winning. Airplane! The Slot Machine is awesome.

Dinner isn't until 9:30, so I find more railbirds and chat it up. Numbono, PokahDave, F-Train, etc.. The final table is rocking 50% women, including my teammate Dawn Summers.  I'm hoping the "member of Astin's team wins the tournament" streak continues, but alas, she crushes all my hopes and dreams by going out 4th. Um, I mean... great job Dawn! Congrats to Chilly's friend for taking the whole thing down (right? It's been awhile. There was a chop at 3 I think.)

Wander wander wander.  Bar, slots, bar, tourney.  Chilly taking prop bets on how many toenails he has painted (answer: 1).  Finally, dinner time arrives, I grab my coat and head out with CK, Grange, and CaityCaity to Carnevino.

Never been before.  Will be back in January.  Carol did the ordering with some minor input from the rest of us and the waiter, and the meal was top-notch.

Bison chop, lamb, sweetbreads (my choice, and the most unexciting part of the meal, but I'm spoiled by the best sweetbreads in the world available in Toronto), pastas, carpaccio, crudo, house-cured pastrami, and more. The food was great, the conversation and company better. But isn't that how these WPBT things are supposed to work? Everything we do, the tournament, the outings, the gambling, the dinners, the drinks -- they're all noise around the core purpose of meeting up with awesome people.

Dinner wrapped up, and I finally made it to the IP. The moment I walked in those broken doors, I realized that I hadn't felt like I was in Vegas until right then. The Aria is very nice. The Excalibur is cheesy. Dinners at fancy restaurants are delicious. But with this group, and these trips, the Imperial Palace is home.

And what does one do in the IP? One sits down at a table and plays PAI GOW!!! I can't remember how much I lost there, but it was worth the price of admission to joke around with BrainMC, Maigrey, and the rotating cast of friends showing off their Pai Gow skills. Hours and a few drinks later I plunked down at The Ghostbusters slots because craps was looking too full.  Turns out that Slimer also wants to give me money because I walked up a couple hundred in a game I couldn't seem to lose.

By this time it was about half past ridiculous o'clock in the morning and I grabbed a cab back (the long away around, I REALLY need to pay better attention to the cabbies who are ripping me off) to Aria with Absinthentics and called it a night.

Next up - the final day, a small photo walk, and runners.

Four Days in the Desert - Day 1b

When we last saw our intrepid Canadian, he was jumping a cab at the Cosmopolitan all by his lonesome to get to the Excalibur. I seem to recall this cabbie actually taking a route that made sense. This opposed to the one who took the highway to the Aria (I wasn't paying attention) earlier in the day.

So I find myself at the Excal and I am, as usual, struck by the cheap cheesiness of the place. But I knew there was a murder (I assume that's the proper group designation) of blogger-types hanging out by the bar, so I just beelined towards Lynyrd Skynyrd's reportedly terrible BBQ joint and swerved at the last second towards the sea of recognizable faces congregated around cheap beers.

I started by giving Bam-Bam a hearty slap on the back, followed by hugs and greetings to the man from Bedrock and his lovely wife Pebbles, who moved from the frosty rolling hills of 45 minutes away from me to the flat golden fields of Saskatchewan (provincial motto: Easy to draw, hard to spell.).  About 5 seconds after this, Bammer tried to convince me to jump in a cab with them and head to The Palms for some HORSE. A game I detest 3/5ths of. Try as he might, he couldn't get me to budge from the Robin Hood-themed drinking establishment I had yet to ensconce myself in.

There was chatting, the some quick chat with newly-minted full-time author John Hartness, an all-too-brief talk with Iggy, hellos to Mattazuma, Yestbay, JoeSpeaker, Lightning, and general all-round chaos as I tried to catch up with 20 people at once.

I of course made some time to talk to Carol (no links because she's secretive that way, but you already know how to find her), who is totally my Vegas foodie insider and all-around awesome person who I don't talk to nearly enough.

Then it was chatting with OhCaptain and PokerVixen about any number of things.  In short, everyone was catching up on their year.  Our 140 character spurts of information and all-too-rare ramblings in these bloggy things just don't measure up to face time with these "Internet friends" (I can't possibly call them imaginary any more).

Somewhere during all this people started to split off and I found myself throwing money away at the Burger Girl machine (slot with a giant burger side-game) while Bam-Bam, Pebbles, and Carol looked on. it was very embarrassing... for the burger girl. Then a tweet came in that OhCaptain was learning craps... so I quickly found myself dropping a few bucks on a craps table with the Cap'n, Maigrey, Gus, Speaker, April, Garth, CJ and Lefty, and eventually Drizz (and maybe others, apologies if I forgot you). Basically, we surrounded the table, and the Excalibur gladly took our money.

However, I did introduce CJ and company to my ideal strategy of ALWAYS playing the come bet and putting full odds on. Regularly stating that "nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong with this." At some point it got dubbed the Canadian strategy. As expected, nothing at all went wrong, except the time I was fully loaded and some asshole sevened out without hitting a single damned point. But that almost never (read: always) happens.

With the craps table holding on tightly to my money, I wandered. I dumped some cash in slots, strolled past table games, and eventually found myself wondering where everybody had gone. Turns out a good chunk were at The Palms, but at this point (some 24 hours since I had woken up to head to Vegas) I really didn't feel like dragging my ass over there to give more money away.  What I DID feel like was a hot dog. Probably from staring at the "beer and dog" banner hanging over the Sherwood Forest bar. I started wandering outside to find food.  I contemplated McD's across the road, but I was on the wrong side of the strip and it wasn't the "nice" one by IP, but the scary one in that odd strip mall between MGM and civilization. Nathan's in New York New York was closing up (and who wants end of night hot dogs?), and I kept walking, dropping money in slots and pulling some out along the way.

I made to the Aria without food and my stomach grumbling most unhappily.  I debated on continuing to the IP in search of food or people, and made it as far as the tram in Crystals before turning around and heading to my room. Thinking, "I'll just grab something snacky off room service." There was no such thing as "snacky" on that menu, and I really didn't want a full dinner.  If only I'd known about Secret Pizza in the Cosmo before I got back home... as it was, I passed out on the ridiculously comfortable bed as sleep beats food cravings most days. Besides, I had to be up in time for breakfast at Wicked Spoon the next morning and a visit to the Neon Boneyard.

How not to Plan a Trip

"Oh, you're coming for CES?"

It was a refrain that rang out a few times during WPBT when I mentioned I was returning mid-January.  But my answer was "no."

But I can see why there was confusion. I mean, why the hell would ANYONE go to Vegas during the biggest convention week of the year? Geeks and porn stars descending on the city for their annual pilgrimages for awards and toys.

Well, this guy is going because he let a friend plan a trip. A friend who decided a US (but not Canadian) long weekend in January would be an ideal time to go because it would be dead here on the Monday. The whole trip existing solely because he didn't want to keep missing Christmas parties during the usual WPBT jaunt in December.

So now I'm looking at room that normally go for $70/night jacked up to $800. I'm amazed that my tier status went up with M-Life during my latest stay and that it makes no difference. The big "deals" are charging $150/night for Monte Carlo. Hell, even the IP is charging me.

Aria has a decent rate going for a deluxe king, but everyone is of the strict "I don't share with dudes" maxim.  Whatever. Having 5 people makes for an odd room situation anyway.

I can only imagine that restaurant reservations will be just as easy to come by, and that table limits will be kept nice and low.

In short, probably the most expensive possible choice for a weekend. Time to see if there are some strings I can pull.  Shame I can't whine my way to a better deal.

Home

Made it home without incident, and plenty of memories to get down in this space.  Those will come over the next few days.  But first, I want to get some of my pics ready for posting.

The quick summary though? Ate like a Roman, gambled like a rube, when I slept it was the sleep of the dead, had nothing but fun times, and most importantly, had great people to spend them with. A++++ will do business with again.

Counting in Hours

Just over 23 hours until I take off for sin city. Add about 5 hours to that for arrival. I'm getting a wee bit excited.

Not a whole whack to add to yesterday's post.  Plans remain the same, although dining companions at Jaleo have changed a bit, and a couple of you have shown interest in Wicked Spoon brunch buffet (Friday? Saturday pre-tourney? Sunday recovery?)

But I did something last night that I don't think I've ever done before. Pre-packed. Yup, all packed up except for the stuff I still need to use.  At this rate I'll be sitting on my suitcase waiting for my ride hours before it's scheduled to show up.  Man, I wish I had a TARDIS.

See a bunch of you this weekend!

1.5 Sleeps

I've been travelling all my life. With dad working for the airlines, and mom teaching geography, it meant a lot of plane rides. This also meant a lot of packing, a lot of early mornings, and a lot of time spent waiting around the gates to see if we would get on the flight with employee passes, or try again later.

Of course, over the last decade or so, most of my travel has been for myself. Among those trips have been 8 to Las Vegas. Thursday will be #9.

And every single one is tinged with excitement. Also, rushing the night before to get my shit together. US cash, passport, clothes, bounties, toothpaste, etc.. It hasn't always gone smoothly.  Two years back I left my whole bankroll, bounties, passport, and casino cards sitting in my nightstand as I rushed out the door to make my flight. Luckily, I realized it as I was standing on the subway platform across the street from my place and was able to retrieve cash and passport, but the rest stayed behind. Which was fine since I didn't need the bounties anyway that year.

So I expect a full sleep tonight, and maybe half of one tomorrow as I pack, prepare, and procrastinate before waking up at 5:30am to make my 9:30 flight.

I'll make up the rest on the way over, and then deprive myself of sleep for the next 4 days.

I fully expect the usual tune to run through my head as the bright light city draws into view.

Staying at the Aria, hoping to swing a photo-worthy view. Then I'm thinking I need a practice run before Saturday, so I'll probably drop my bags off and then head downstairs for the Aria 1pm tourney.  Same buy-in and structure as the WPBT, and I'm crazy rusty.  I figure it's $125 flushed in the name of warming up the poker instincts. Dinner at Jaleo with good company (still 2 seats up for grabs at 6pm if anyone wants in), and then a castle will be stormed.

Friday has some dead neon in it, more dinner, and then some sort of reckless gambling I'm sure.

Saturday I plan to win a tournament, with Team Bedrock (yours truly, Summers, and BrainMC. Hey, you dyslexically steal our name, we'll straight up abscond with yours) finishing 1-2-3, and then play it by ear from there, although there are rumblings involving arcade games that I suck at...

Sunday - ummm.. wake up? Eat? Find people cheering their sportsball game in a large room? Cheer for insane friends who have decided to run down a street in the middle of a desert? And then go home.

I think the only thing on my "want to do" list that isn't covered in here somewhere is grabbing some breakfast buffet at Wicked Spoon at the Cosmo.  I mean, what's Vegas without at least one breakfast buffet to fuel your whole day? Who's in?

WPBT Report

I was there for five days, but I think it can be recapped in one post. Forgive the lack of links, I may add them when I get home.

Let's get the crap out of the way first - down. Down a bunch. Atlantic City levels of down. I don't think I won a damned thing. Craps? Hundos on the table, walking away empty-handed. Pai Gow? Down a couple, but most games were the expected break-even with +EV in drinks. Let it Ride? If not a for a 3-card set of jacks, I'd be swearing off the game. Poker? AA once in the tournament (where I went out in 86th) was the only notable hand in all the poker I played. Although I was up $23 in the MGM mixed game. Slots? Well, I'd better be getting some good offers from the broke-ass casino companies this year after the number of max-bet button presses on my cards without a cash-out.

So, totally negative on the gambling front.

Big deal.

I was still under my loss limit.

And it was more than made up for by the real reason I went - to see you people.

By "you people", I mean you. And you. But not you, because you didn't go.

As has been the case for every winter gathering I've attended (4 and counting), I had a small entourage of local friends in my wake. The regulars - M, N, and E were joined by a couple Vegas virgins - M2 and S. In years past, I've had small regret for having a posse with me, as they haven't necessarily integrated with the larger group well, which has left me torn between groups.

This year, I went where I wanted, and it worked out better. Local friends ditch the $10 table for the $5? Tough, I've got Otis on my right, and Chilly and Bayne on my left. I'm not going anywhere. Drizz, Maigrey, and Gus show up to make it even better.

Hey guys, I'm teaching you Pai Gow. I can't believe that worked considering one of them doesn't drink and another doesn't drink much. Talk about -EV.

You want to stay in the room instead of gamble? Have fun, I have a tournament to rail and a drunken Gus is too much fun to NOT join his craps table.

Got to meet BrainMC (world's worst Pai Gow player), xkm1245 (who I think was stalking me, dude seemed to be everywhere), NumbBono, PokerVixen, 23Skidoo, Josie (who I like because she called me skinny), and more. Probably played with even more people I didn't know without realizing it. Sorry to Wolfshead for not introducing myself at the mixed game - I was full of Robuchon and gambling angst and didn't think to make a formal introduction.

Then of course, there's my fellow Canucks - Katitude and Joanne1111. Only seeing Joanada in Vegas makes sense as Calgary ain't exactly next door. But Kat? We really need to start meeting up somewhere between the 20 minutes between our respective homes - I think 10 minutes is much more reasonable :). Then there's kinda-Canadian BuddyDank who was the first blogger I saw this year, and who I have just now decided I will blame for my early ousting from the tournament, as I spent most of my time chatting with him. Obviously, he drained all my good luck to make it to the 6-way chop.

Speaking of Canadians - OhCaptain's (from South Ontitoba, aka Minnesota) Bourbonators never really came together, but he DID get his group shot before the tournament and a bottle of Bowmore to bring to the next Eh-Vegas! Always good to see the cap'n.

Then there's VinNay and Dawn and Mary, who I've seen more than any other bloggers (and most of my local friends) this year. Amazingly, we still had some stuff to talk about, be it of substance or not. Although Mary and I seemed to be on different schedules and barely crossed paths.

I FINALLY played craps with Bayne after about 6 coincident visits to Vegas. That one's ticked off the list, and replace with "do it again, and win this time."

CK made it out to Robuchon this year! No crappy deals that never got done to keep her away from the best meal in Vegas. And for those who DIDN'T see her at the mixed game after? She cleans up great - who knew she even had a dress and heels? You'd barely know she was a deadly poker machine.

Al, Pauly, Iggy, CJ, Drizz, Falstaff, April, April, Garth, Gnome, MiamiDon, JoeSpeaker and many, many more - it was great to see you, however briefly.

I even managed to make it to Legasse's this year. Later than planned, but there was something great about walking into that suite, packed with people I knew, and some I hadn't even realized were there. Free swag from Full Tilt was icing on the cake. I'll have to start using my pool to justify the sandals...

And the food! I might have lost at the various gambling tables, but the dinner tables were nothing but win.

Sage = fantastic food, and an amazing value for a nice dinner. 3 course tasting menu, wine or beer pairing, and appetizer upgrade all for $140? In Vegas? Worth it. Oh, and our waiter was amazing - he rolled with our jokes (we were in town for a quilting bee) and was great for a laugh or six himself.

Delmonico's = still making the steaks right. Two years in a row now we've been put at the front of the restaurant - which is dark and sucks. Service has dropped off since our first visit 4 years back as well - it's by no means bad, but it used to be above and beyond. But they still know how to cook a solid piece of meat. The $25 corkage fee for our excellent self-brought wine was also very reasonable.

Robuchon - what can I say that I didn't last year? Awesome. With the new experience shine off from last year for half of us, I worried if I'd oversold it to myself. Nope. Still 16 courses of perfect food and impeccable service. Worth every penny. Hell, I'd lost more at craps the first night. Our sommelier being Canadian was a pretty nice touch too. Seriously, if you can afford it, do it at least once.

Julian Serrano - Last minute "well, we're all out of the tournament" dinner. Very nice tapas. Reasonable prices. I've certainly had better tapas in Toronto, but the dishes here ranged from good to "bring us another of those". The waiter was also incredibly friendly, and seemed genuinely happy to have served us. The fact he found a stamp-collector in our group, and he was an active one himself, certainly helped.

Legasse's - You'd be hard-pressed to find better food at a sports bar anywhere. Considering it was the only meal I ate between then and lunch the next day, it was welcome.

The last time I was down this much, N and I left Atlantic City with grumbles and vows to never return. Looking back, I can't believe how much fun I had while flushing cash down the felt toilets in Vegas. A huge thank you to everyone who was there, and a double thanks to Al, April (and her local cohorts), and CJ for taking care of all those logistical things that made it extra special.

Next year? Need to cram in a photowalk, and also get that indoor skydiving thing done. There's also the Jose Andres restaurants opening up this week at the Cosmopolitan. I task the Vegas locals to check those out for me and report back ASAP.

Gravy (WPBT)

This isn't about politics... just the next paragraph.

It's a word that in my fine city has become a punchline. Our current mayor's cries to "stop the gravy train" have infused connotations onto a word that is usually associated with deliciousness.

But dammit, I loves me my gravy! And you know what? Next week will be full of it!

Because next week is Vegas! A week tomorrow is when I sit my ass down to defend my Golden Hammer Trophy from over 100 challengers. You know what else? The pot just keeps getting more tasty with delicious gravy!

Poker Stars has increased their team last-longer prize from last year! Now Full Tilt has stepped up to grow our prize pool AND cover food at Sunday's football-watching extravaganza. Man, I wish that $100 bubble prize was there two years ago when I was that guy. On top of all that, both Tilt and Stars are putting bounties on people in the tournament! $100 or $50 depending on the sponsor, and hell, that could be $150 depending on overlap of bounties! AND a Hammer Challenge from Stars! $50 for winning post flop with the hammer? They should just throw money at the tables!

Between my inevitable repeating as champ, the 1-2-3 finish of Team "Astin is Awesome" (that's our name, right guys?), and me knocking out EVERYONE, with THE HAMMER, this will be a very profitable tournament for yours truly.

Let's be honest, I'm going home with a copy of Gigli and a hangover.

Plus, poker lessons before the tournament! I mean, let's face it... if I can win this thing everyone else must REALLY suck, and could only benefit from this opportunity.

Thanks to Sir AlCantHang and El Luckbox for putting this delicious topping together for us sorry degenerates.

I am figuratively bursting at the seams with anticipation for this trip. I always look forward to Vegas, but this year, it's also a real vacation from life for a few days. Everything else?

Gravy.

Vegas Photowalk?

I think I may have mentioned this on Twitter, I dunno.

Anybody feel like doing a small photowalk in Vegas? Cameras, wandering, picture-taking. I'm thinking of just staying on The Strip, maybe duck into a few casinos and see if we can't get a few pics of the non-gambling areas perhaps. I'm tempted to bring my tripod, but those things tend to draw attention to themselves.

That or maybe I just try and hitch my wagon to the Neon Graveyard trip.

To Do (9 Days)

Nine days until take-off. I'm definitely looking forward to this trip and locking my brain away in the room safe while I bask in the neon glow and stench of desperation and hope of The Strip.

But before then, there are things to do.

1.- Finish an essay for class tonight. It's due Wednesday, but I'll be good and plastered when I stagger in the door tomorrow night, so tonight, post-class is my last chance to make it presentable.

2.- Adjust and send off my bounty for printing and shipping. Going through mpix, and shipping to one of those awesome people I know in Vegas who has agreed to be my bounty mule. Should try and get that done tonight too. While it should only take a couple days to print and ship, I don't want to find myself without the physical bounty at the table. Then again, I forgot my bounties last year and won the whole thing...

3.- Work on a couple other class projects. Fairly easy stuff, all told, but time is still required. Due the Thursday after I return, I'd love to have them knocked off before departure.

4.- Study for an exam. Final exam the Wednesday after I'm back. Considering I'm barely paying attention in class these days, I'll be bringing notes on the plane and spending the 5 hour flight reading them. Then putting them away for the next 5 days, hoping I don't kill the brain cells that contain the information I need.

5.- Make sure I have some US cash. Good exchange rate, and now having both a US account and credit card lessens this need. As long as I remember to bring everything this time.

6.- Confirm reservations. Robuchon's already been locked in, Delmonico should be checked. Still no plans for Wednesday night, and sadly, José Andrés' places at the Cosmopolitan won't be open until the three days AFTER I leave. Poor timing José... poor timing.

7.- Figure out reno timing. I'm putting in hardwood. I need to get the flooring and schedule its installation. This also requires emptying out two bedrooms and tearing up carpet. This has the most potential to be the biggest wrench in things, seeing as I want it done by the weekend after I return. Need to harass some folks. Well, already harassing them.

8.- Automate more at work. Three days where others will be covering for me. I'd better build some more buttons for them to press.

9.- Play a hand or two of poker. Outside of 3 minutes of terrible turbo SnG play last week, I think it's been a month since I've logged in to the virtual felt. It's been months and months since I last played with real cards. Which means all my luckbox powers have been building up and are fully charged.

10.- Not go insane. After Vegas, the New Year can't come fast enough. Things SHOULD be settled down by then. Hell, barring a major catastrophe, 2011 should seem calm and easy compared to the last couple months.

Tap me on the shoulder, I'll buy you a drink, because I'll need another one myself.

Bounty

I'll probably bring a few random trinkets with me to the Winter Gathering. Hammer keychains and the like.

But Oh Captain reminded me of what I had planned this year's bounty to be.

This of course:


Now I just have to print it, frame it, and pack it. I'm thinking of throwing in a full-sized TIFF of the image to, so whoever knocks me out can use it for their own personal, non-commercial purposes. Maybe.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'll have to reward it to the best Pai Gow player or something, since I'm winning the whole damned tournament again.

Was Worried, But Now Not

My job changed a little while ago. More responsibility. Generally good.

But I had a fear.

Would this mean I couldn't go to Vegas?

My annual trip? Where I have a non-refundable flight? And a hotel room booked in my name, and a roomie who could be stranded? What about the dinner reservations in my name? Will they be lost?

Apparently. No. Because I'm still going.

Whew.

2 weeks from now I'll be airborne and probably over Minnesota or something, heading to the land of wallet-draining fun. The excitement over this is rising daily.

I can't wait to see all those degenerates that used to blog about poker. Like me. It's always a reinvigorating experience to slap some cash down on a -EV table game while knocking back concoctions designed to part you from your money even faster. Good decisions? Maybe getting vitamin C from a Greyhound will count as one.

One other one would be finding a third for my last longer team. There's me, VinNay (who I COULD link to, but he hasn't blogged in... forever)... and... you? Let's face it, Vin's got skills and math, I've got horseshoes in places backscatter x-ray machines can't find, AND am the defending Golden Hammer Champion, how could you not want to be on our team? Hell, my team came in 3rd last year, despite what the official record says, and one of our guys went out in the 60's!

This thing... let's do it.

They Like Me! (Bragging)

Well, no... they like this:



I had finished putting away groceries and playing some Guitar Hero when I checked Twitter for the first time that day. I had few @'s waiting for me, and all were along the lines of "Congrats Astin!"

Huh? Lost in my tweets was this one from Scott Bourne:

ScottBourne: Congrats to Astin who won our Spring Flickr contest - see his winning picture here. More contests coming - http://bit.ly/bOGqd0

Wha? I had heard about the contest last week, joined the Flickr group and submitted the popular sunrise shot from December's WPBT trip. You were allowed one addition per week, and I forgot to add another before the deadline.

Turns out I didn't need to.

I love the shot, but was shocked that it won. I'm under no illusions about my ability with a camera. I take enough pictures that I occasionally get a good one. See: blind squirrel, nut. That one turned out great, but I figured the HDR aspect of it and unusual dimensions would work against me.

From the announcement post:

Note the horizon doesn’t cut through the center of the frame, which would be distracting. The fountain center and the tower at the Paris hotel are both just slightly off kilter to each other which creates a nice balance.

The horizon is actually exactly where I wanted it. The photo has obviously been cropped (side and bottom taken off). Part of that was because the Bellagio centre column was in the right side of the shot (my room was adjacent to it). But the top/bottom was cropped to get the horizon and road roughly straddling the middle of the picture. Ideally, I'd have liked them both to be on the thirds, but opted for the horizon to be closer to that goal.

The fountain centre and Eiffel tower being off-kilter was purely a function of location. The room is where it is, and the table in front of the window is where it is. That table was necessary to set up my mini-tripod to get the shots. I'd have to check, but I believe I used 4 (maybe 5) exposures for the HDR.

Of course, this has now taken the most popular photo on my Flickr account and trebled its views. If nothing else, it's motivation to keep at this photography hobby, especially as I work through older shots and am reminded how much crap I end up with.

WPBT Golf Pics!

Alright, they're FINALLY up. I said they'd be up by Sunday... I just didn't specify WHICH Sunday.

71 shots from the inaugural WPBT Winter Golf Scramble, or whatever you want to call it.

Standard Flickr set here

or

Slideshow here

I hope you like 'em.

Now, back to Israel pics... those are only 4 months overdue. Then to finish Iceland from 2.5 years ago.

A Vegas Story

An acquaintance of mine relayed a story that happened to him in Vegas a while back. I got a laugh out of it.

He was there for a bachelor party with some of his GF's buddies. They were at a club at the MGM (Studio 54? Tabu? Beats me). One of the guys he's with suddenly shows up at his side and says, "we have to go... NOW."

"Huh?"

"We have to get out of here before the cops show up."

"Uh... okay."

So they leave. Once they're out, his idiot compatriots reveal they stole 3 bottles of vodka from the club.

They head back to their room (apparently at Bally's), and they pull out 3 bottles of... Smirnoff from under their jackets.

"Are you nuts? We'll get caught! It's amazing we got out the door!"

"Don't worry dude, we do this shit all the time at the halls back home."

"This is VEGAS, not some fucking Portuguese hall in Toronto!"

"Calm down dude."

Not too much later, the phone rings.

"We know you took 3 bottles from us. We want $500/bottle or we call the cops and blacklist you from Vegas."

The morons who took the hooch shit themselves and paid up.

----

Now, my first reaction during this story is "Wow, you guys are retarded." But my immediate second reaction, which came as soon as the brand was revealed - "Smirnoff? How fucking dumb are these guys? If you're going to steal, steal THE GOOD STUFF! Not the paint thinner!"

Then when I was told the price tag, I laughed. These douchebags stole shitty vodka from a Vegas club, and then had to pay $1500 for it! The cost on that was probably $20. Nice payday for the MGM.

And they didn't even bother trying to negotiate. They could have at least attempted to get the price down to $200/bottle + $100 for the guy on the phone.

Numbers

1 = My finish
12 = E's finish
3rd number = N's finish.

60=What I was told
60's=What he thought (so max is 69)
86=Worst possible finish (which wasn't him)

Just being passive-aggressively prodding.

The Light Moved

Another shot from the room. This time as soon as we checked in the first night.



I did the initial culling of shots from the golf game last night. Down to 97 in the short list (had around 400 to start with). Will probably trim that down some more. Still figure I'll have 'em up by Sunday.

WPBT Report - Epilogue

This trip marked one of my longest stays in Vegas. It also marked the first one where I wasn't positively sick of Sin City on my way out. I love to visit, but constantly staring at the façade that's is The Strip wears on the soul after a few days, and I long for the reality of streets that have buildings in all directions as opposed to only one.

But on this trip, I wished for more time. I toyed with the idea of moving my flight 12 hours ahead just so I could hang at the Venetian, eat Emeril's food, and not bet on football. Why? Because I hadn't spent nearly enough time with my IFFs. Sure, I'd had a few conversations with Pauly, spent hours zipping between foursomes on the golf course, had a drink with Iggy, downed SoCo with Al, joked around with BamBam, talked photography with Alan and OhCaptain, met Lightning36, talked about AWOL friends with JJ, pissed off CK (not really) with my talk of the dinner she missed, and tons of other interactions with this mosaic of a group we have, but it wasn't nearly enough. I barely saw LJ, which always kills me because we were among the first bloggers either of us met IRL during the '07 summer gathering. I once again didn't roll dice with Bayne, making me 0-for-5 I think on times we've both been in Vegas. I didn't get to mock Recess at a craps table for making me lose all my money with his mere presence. I didn't teach OhCaptain craps (something Dawn Summers will no doubt call a blessing for him). While I got to joke around with Jordan at the tournament, not once could we get a Jews vs Gentiles game of anything going. Hell, I almost only see Kat, BamBam, and Pebbles at blogger gatherings, despite them living within an hour's drive, and I didn't even raise a scotch with Bammer (or OhCaptain for that matter, but there's no excuse for that one). There are people I wanted to meet that I didn't even see, and I people I saw who I didn't get over to at least shake hands with.

And I didn't sit down at a Pai Gow table even once.

So yah, I wanted more time. It's impossible to see everyone you want to see, and do everything you want to do on these trips, and looking back I didn't exactly come up short, but it still doesn't stop me from wanting more.

So next year, both before and after I successfully defend my Golden Hammer, I MUST find more time.

But until then, there'll be an Eh-Vegas, maybe a Summer Gathering, maybe I'll actually make an Okie Vegas, and who knows what other opportunities for meeting up with subsets of this group. See you there?

WPBT Report - Day 4, or where I kick your ass

Day 4. Saturday. The last day of consequence for me. The biggest of 'em too. This will be a long one.

First though - the view from my room as I returned the first night/morning




Up for the Bellagio buffet breakfast, I roped Kat, Lightning36, JJOK, and OhCaptain into it with myself and E (N & M off golfing in the cold rain). It just doesn't feel right to do Vegas without at least one buffet.

We talked, we ate, we talked, and then went off to prepare for the tournament in our own way. For me, E, and JJ, that meant walking from the buffet to Caesars.

The tournament kicked off, and I was 100% zen. I had no expectations, and just wanted to have fun. In fact, I knew I wouldn't mind busting out early because it would mean more time hanging with the other bloggers who were done.

That didn't quite happen.

Here's a quick hand recap from the beginning of the tourney to the final table:

crap, crap, more crap, crap, not quite crap so I'll raise, oh re-raise? fold, crap, crap, KK - raise and win blinds, crap, crap, nada, nothing, zip, zilch, crap, crap, 1-gapper raise, called, get bet out on broadway flop, crap, crap, shit, crap, more crap, what the hell is this crap? AQ - raise, get blinds, crap, crap, where are my chips? AJ raise, get re-raised, fuck it, all-in over the top for less than the re-raise, you folded? Sweet. Crap, crap, crap, crap, table change, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, garbage, small pair all-in with the short stack, double up and survive, crap, crap.... etc...

You get the picture. It was a game of pushing with an M of 3 and whatever I had holding up to keep me alive a bit longer. Any strong hands tended to win the blinds alone, and I caught nothing on the board. The first hour was so useless to me that I tore up my Bellagio buffet receipt and folded some origami card cappers (a crane and frog). I commented that I needed 999 more cranes to win the damned thing.

N went out somewhere in the 60's (69th according to him, 60th according to CJ), which pretty much kiboshed hopes of winning the last longer. Nobody could beat Team Roach (congrats guys!). E went out 12th with KJ losing to Alceste's aces or something, just before Change100 bubbled the final table.

And just before E and Change went down to put us at a final 10, I managed to double through AlCantHang (his second double up for me in the game). Q6s or something similar against AJs or something similar from him. I caught a card and it held. It's one of the few hands I remember, along with presto catching a set on the flop earlier to save my ass, and pocket 3's making it through an all-in on the flop from me and scaring off people who should have called.

No aces so far, by the way.

The highlight to this point was my second table. Pauly, Iggy, Garth, Maigrey, Obie, Smokkee, Blinders, Bayne... and someone else I can't recall. Blinders went out and was replaced with AlCantHang. Talk about the TV table! I figured that table was as good as any to double up at. I did a couple times, but only to survive.

Leading to the final table, I was barely above water. 40k in chips was not nearly enough at 4000/8000/1000. But we made that final 10 and the blinds were rolled back to 1500/3000/400 for some serious breathing room added. From here I had one goal - build a big stack. I knew I could take this down if I could get enough chips to take some risks and push the table around at the right times.

The bubble was tight, but it was quickly decided that we'd all chip in $10 for the bubble. Chilly got $90 to nearly break even when he went out in 10th.

Once we were in the money, my game shifted a bit. I could now take those risks without necessarily having a monster stack. It wasn't that I thought the $200 for 9th was big money, but that I'd just beat my bubble-boy performance of the previous year. 10th sucks.

So I stole some blinds, took some shots at flops, and kept ahead of the blinds as much as anyone could with the insane "get the hell out" structure that we'd hit at this point.

What was most surprising was how long the final 9 held out. Nobody was going out. Nobody was risking a significant portion of their stack to call a short all-in, because you just couldn't afford it with those levels.

I can't remember how everyone went out, but we lost Elissa, by far the best looking one at the table, in 9th. That was a loss for everyone. I blame The Rooster for distracting her with his manly charms.

Anyway, eventually people started dropping out. It was just a matter of time. Somewhere in there I knocked out someone, took some bigger pots with the right moves at the right time, and found myself as chipleader with 8 to go, then again with 5 to go, and I generally stayed up there.

By far my best played hand was against Gnome. He'd been using some timely aggression preflop to take blinds and antes, and had c-bet with some success when he actually saw a flop. He'd chased me off at least one hand earlier, and ran some air into a decent Al hand to reveal his range.

He raised preflop from the button, around 2.5x the BB, and I looked down to T8d in the BB. I called. Flop came J87 with two spades. I was pretty sure I was ahead here, and was sure he'd bet into a check from me. So I checked. He thought for a second and checked behind.

Hrmm... turn brought Qs, and I thought briefly about him having hit. I opted to check with every ounce of body language that said *I* had hit it. He started debating. I started wondering how I'd deal with a bet here. He reached for some chips and counted out a few, running them through his fingers. I put him on air, and knew he wasn't sure about me either. He put down the chips and checked.

River was a T. I didn't like this one. It gave me two pair, but also put the straight out there if he had a 9, or AK, along with the three spades on the board. But I had played this whole way with the intent of checkraising his action into me, and still had a hard time accepting he had anything. If he had hit the Q on the turn, it wasn't enough to keep him in, and he knew it. He was short enough that he could risk a bet, but not a call of a re-raise if he wasn't positive he had this. No, he had air... I checked.

And he bet 40k.

I paused, counted out the 40 while debating on the size of my raise. I wanted enough to get him out, but also wanted to leave enough behind that I could fold if he came over the top himself. 50k on top seemed like a good number. It was too much for him to just call, enough for me to leave on the table, but also enough that it looked like I was committed if he did raise. It said "I've got this and want you to call this bet..." It wasn't quite a value bet, and it was a semi-bluff even though I was almost positive he didn't have anything.

And he folded. There were plenty of mumblings around the table of what I had, if I'd just pulled off a monster bluff, or if I had the stone cold nuts there. That might have been almost as good a feeling as winning the whole thing. Especially since I have a ton of respect for Gnome's game. It was easily my favourite hand of the tournament.

Eventually, we got to 3-handed between myself, JoeSpeaker, and AlCantHang. Two guys proclaiming their drunkenness, one making sure we knew he was colour blind, and me. Both these guys were dangerous though. Speaker had been hanging back and using his whole stack strategically. Strong preflop raises and re-raises, and pushes for c-bets that were working. Al was happily shoving and raising seemingly at random, but he had enough chips to make it work.

And I realized exactly what I had to do.

Play them against each other.

But first, we had a chop discussion. With $4800 in the pot for top 3, and 7 1/2 hours of play behind us, it wasn't a bad idea. Joe and I were good with a straight up split, as only 10k separated us, and we'd even toss Al a premium as he had about 1/3rd more chips than us. But Al wanted the trophy too, and that was non-negotiable. We were playing for the trophy, not just giving it up. Al refused to chop without the Golden Hammer in the deal, and I decided it was time to start talking.

"No worries, that sounds like the kind of thing someone who doesn't think they can win it on their own would say."

That got Al ready to rumble. There was laughter and "ooooos" from the rail. Someone asked if we're going to go Canada vs America, to which I had only one response - "Find five more Americans to sit at the table and we'll call it an even match."

Game on.

The three of us passed around chips. There were walks, position raises, and some legitimate hands that got bet and shown. Al and I were pretty evenly matched stack-wise and I wasn't getting much I wanted to tangle with him with. But I also happened to be sitting directly across from him, and could tell when he was planning on pushing his stack in the middle. I avoided at least two bluffs and bet with a small pair from the button by reading his intentions. Twice Speaker bet into him only to have to fold to Al's push, and the third time Al grumbled about getting a walk and flipped over an ace.

The downside of this is that I wasn't winning more than I was losing, and my stack was shrinking. I needed something that could stand up to an Al all-in (a regular occurrence by now). This is the time when you learn who your real friends are.

And they came to my defense in a BIG way. I was in the BB, looked down, and saw my old buddies A and A looking right back at me. I'm pretty sure they winked too. They'd been holding out the whole game so they could show up when it counted the most. Al pushed from the SB and I instacalled, flipping over my rockets to a round of "oh BIG surprise! Astin has Aces." from the peanut gallery.

They held... they more than held, they brought along another of their ilk on the flop, killing all drama for the hand and announcing to the world that they had my back.

I was now the monster stack.

Al got pushy again, as Speaker picked his spots. Then Al says, "all-in in the dark" from the SB. I look down at K3o. Al starts with "instacall! You have a King? Insant!" I wait. Is he really in the dark? Is K3 worth it for 1/4 of my stack and a courtesy double-up for the biggest wildcard at the table? I'm leaning towards "no" when he peeks and says "Oh, I have an ace." I fold. He flips over AQ. In the dark my ass.

A few hands later, he tries again. "All-in in the dark." Sigh. I look down at A9o. Good enough, I call. "I have a pair." Pocket 4's from Al hold up and he's doubles while I drop 1/4. We're close again, and Speaker is letting us fight it out.

It goes between the 3 of us for a while, and Al and I are really close in chips, when I bet with A6o and he goes all-in. I think about it. I put him on nothing particularly good. In fact, I figure my ace is good. He isn't as strong as he was with his "in the dark" bets, and is hoping to get rid of me here.

I call.

Al flips over KJo, and we're away to the races. My ace hits the turn, and Al is livid. "CON-GRAT-ULATIONS! You just won the blogger tournament!" "Ace-six? Ace-six!" "What about me told you your ace-six was good?" Okay, livid isn't the right word. Tilted might be, and it wasn't even entirely from that hand. But my instincts told me I was good there, and I've lost more by ignoring those instincts than by following them.

Al is about to leave when I point out we're pretty close. Turns out Al had me beat by 4000 chips... or an ante.

Al's ante goes in, I call the BB, Speaker completes his SB. Al triples up.

Al ends up all-in with the SB, and I'm auto-in with my BB, Speaker folds. I had crap, and Al had better crap. Al doubles up.

Joe has the BB in, Al goes all-in, I look down at AKo. Speaker says he only has a few thousand behind, so I put him in, and he calls. Al has presto, Speaker has a dominated ace. Presto is gold and Al triples up, I get the remainder of Speaker's chips, and we're HU for the Golden Hammer. GG to JoeSpeaker.

We go back and forth a bit, but I have a huge chip lead, so I'm just waiting for the spot. It comes when Al goes all-in and I see AKs and insta-call. Al flips over AQh, and that's all she wrote.

Wait... what? I won? I WON? I WON! WOOOHOO!! Have I truly entered the illustrious guild of Golden Hammer winners? Is it sad that the $2600 prize is the biggest score I've taken down? Who cares! I have a hammer trophy that turns into a screwdriver (I think that may be ironic), and I went from sadly down on the trip to happily up! Up is good. Down is bad.

Now to find a place of honour for this trophy. Also, there's the parade planning. I wonder if I can catch up to the Olympic torch and help draw more crowds...

Anyway, I never thought it could happen to me, etc, etc.. Congrats to Al for taking 2nd and putting on a hell of a game. It could have gone either way a few times if not for my luckbox powers activating when needed. Thanks to April and F-Train for setting the whole thing up, CJ for the last-longer tourney, PokerStars for adding some gravy to that one, and everyone there for making the actual game a secondary concern to just having a good time and enjoying the company and competition amongst friends.

Post-game I chatted with Smokkee a bit before heading back to the room to drop off some of the winnings and meet up with E & N for dinner (having taken M back to the airport for the red-eye). Since it was after 10, most of the higher-end establishments were closing down. We opted for Burger Bar, where I had the Kobe burger on an onion bun with caramelized onions, aioli, dijon, peppered bacon, and something else I'm sure.

But that all took longer than I expected, and we didn't get back to the IP until 1am. There was a small group of bloggers at the Geisha Bar (Al, Iggy, OhCaptain, April, and a few others), Falstaff at the Pai Gow table, and a couple others scattered around, but no group... this saddened me, as I was hoping to see more people I hadn't had a chance to talk with at any length yet. I remember last year being crazy at the IP late into the night.

Regardless, I was there losing at Let it Ride and craps, and slots until 6am. The plan was to go until we needed to get to the airport, but once I started passing out at the the LiR table, I knew a power nap was needed. One hour later, we were up and out to catch the flight back home.