It was another bright sunny day in Las Vegas as I headed down to the Rio with a group of friends on yet another swag hunt, but as I entered the doors to the main hallway that leads to the Amazon room a feeling came over me that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I know I recognized this feeling before, and as I proceeded down the hallway small flashes of memories would pass before my eyes, but I couldn’t quite make out what they all meant.
I rounded the corner and I was almost knocked over by the smell of Ben Gay. It’s menthol aroma was like a combination Bruce Lee kick to my chest, and a Curly Joe gouge to the eyes. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t see. That’s when it hit me. Add some kitty litter odor to the mix and I’m back at Grandma’s house.
I entered the Amazon Room which on any normal day is already busy, and quite loud. But today it was like the depths of hell opened up, there was a cacaphonous chorus of “huh, what did he say?” “Huh? What? Is that a raise?” Only then did I realize that today was the day they held the senior event, an event where “last longer” bets take on an ominous meaning.
I scanned the crowd of oxygen mask covered faces and the only one I recognized was Death. He stood head and shoulders above all and was fashionable in a suit and tie along with jewelry he borrowed from David “Devilfish” Ulliot. Mr. Death was today’s celebrity tournament director and it was clear that he would be the only real winner here.
We had arrived just before a scheduled break, it was announced the players had only twenty minutes to use the bathroom. The race was on for half the crowd, and I lost a good friend today in what will forever be known as the walker stampede of 2006. The other half just stayed in their seats and used their Depends, which oddly enough was one of today’s event sponsors.
Okay, okay I have to stop before I lose some good friends. The seniors tournament I have described only played out in my imagination here at two in the morning, it in fact was like any other event held at the WSOP full of dealers errors and bad floor decisions, the only exception was players had to be at least fifty to buy in.
Some members of our Wednesday Poker Discussion Group were part of the field, some damn good players mind you. Players like Warren Biscoe who has a T.V final table under his belt on the Ultimate Poker Challenge, Jan Fisher the in-studio announcer for the Professional Poker Tour, David Chanduloy a veteran tournament player, and Dennis Oehring a contributing author to many of today’s hot poker publications.
We WPDG’ers as we call ourselves, feel a sense of pride when our members play in any event. For a bright shining moment we have a stake in the event, someone we affectionately call our horse. Our horses didn’t fare too well, by the dinner break Warren and Jan had both busted out and David was down to his last 3,000 in chips and blinds were around 200/400 it was just about time to push with any two cards. I don’t know how Dennis did, but as I write this I hope to hear that he made it to day two.
While all this was going, there was another event playing out. Probably one of the softer events in the tournament, so much dead money in that field that even I held an edge. It was the $50,000 H.O.R.S.E. event. For those who don’t know H.O.R.S.E. is an acronym that stands for How Our Retirement Savings just Evaporated.
This was an amazing field of players, it was a veritable who’s who list of the top professional poker players in the world.
We, and by we I mean the WPDG’ers had a horse in the H.O.R.S.E. event, but too bad she didn’t even make it to the starting gate. Due to a comedy of errors Linda had to pull out at the last minute. Well not exactly the last minute, I think it was level two. However she did win the over under bet for $100 she made with Marc Seif when she took the over for the event which topped out around 120. Congratulations Linda, it’s not a bracelet but a win is a win!
After some dinner, and some poker talk, and a lot of laughs the rest of the night for the group was spent either in a cash game, or taking turns sweating Linda in the 75/150 Pot Limit Omaha game. Damn life can be good.
