Las Vegas, Here I Come

Welcome from Las Vegas, home of gambling, drinking, whoring, and of course, the World Series of Poker. The 2008 WSOP should prove to be quite a year as the gold rush of poker doesn’t seem to be over just yet.

My journey started two days ago as I gassed up my 2000 Mustang convertible and hit the interstate system from the belly of Illinois. My trips to Las Vegas have usually been by plane, but I decided that this year I would get the complete Las Vegas poker experience – one mile at a time.

I wish I could tell you of all the exciting things I saw along the way, but I must admit, traveling through Iowa and Nebraska by oneself does not lead to a plethora or interesting stories. My mind wasn’t on the scenery or the surroundings – “just focus on the road, baby.”

The hours spent driving through Colorado and Utah were just a beautiful blur as I struggled to keep awake, a cold Red Bull always at my side, the sounds of classic rock blaring through the Mach speakers.

The sun was blisteringly hot as I entered Las Vegas. I got nostalgic as I cruised the strip, seeing the ghosts of the Las Vegas I used to know: Westward Ho, Frontier, Sands, Desert Inn, hell -- even the new Aladdin. I settled in at my suite at the Rio and got some well-deserved rest.

Waking up bleary-eyed and grumpy, I stumbled down to the convention center to check out the action as a wave of enthusiastic and hopeful poker players engulfed the registration area. I was reminded of a rather huge woman I saw at my local Sears store, trying to fit size nine feet into size seven shoes. Some things just don’t fit no matter what.

I heard that the line now stretched several hours, and I certainly decided that I could wait to register for one of the low buy-in events that welcomed donkeys like me.

I left the congested area and ran into Mike “The Mouth” Matusow, who was chowing down on a monster slice of pizza. When I asked what kind of a vibe he was getting from the crowd, he answered, “Good mojo, good mojo, Light. I’ve got a feeling that the final table has a little sign saying “Mikey” right at seat number one. I can feel it …”

The Mouth then took off to meet up with some fellow Full Tilt cronies, and I decided to answer nature’s call. Who should be standing next to me but Phil Ivey. I was going to ask him his take on the Main Event, but he had just lost a huge prop bet and gave me “the stare.” Okay – maybe I’ll ask next time.

Clonie Gowan agreed to meet me for drinks in the VooDoo Lounge in 15 minutes. I certainly have my priorities in order, so it is Goom Bye for now. Catch you a little later – if my heart does not fail me …