Today I played in the Sunday Storm at PokerStars – guaranteed prize pool of $1Million and 200k for 1st place. Yowzer! See…I originally thought to title this ‘The Growth of Poker’ but then that would mean I’d have to go into the Cinderella Story of Chris Moneymaker and the hole card cam and the World Poker Tour and 40 other things that have been hashed and bashed until I can’t stand to think of them anymore. And more appropriately, what this is about is the fact that the prize pools and the pots are super gi-normous now and they just keep growing.
but I did get tired. I actually didn’t post yesterday because Clearspine did and whoever posts last, their post hits PokerWorks’ main page. I wanted readers to read him and hopefully leave a comment on his query on how to blow off use his FPPs. So do give him a holler – all of you online poker players out there. Continue reading I didn’t get lost…
No, I didn’t get lost! Yes, the Montana Days are still in the works. What really happened is that I started leafing the two photo albums of players from the Montana Days and decided that I should do pictures along with poker tales. The damn pictures take a bit of messing with. Continue reading It’s the picture thang
Maybe not down, as in down, like the Stardust and all the other casinos that have literally went d-o-w-n, but it is closing. No emotion on my part, although I do have history with the place, IMHO at this time it’s just another seamy dive. Continue reading The Sahara is going down
I pulled out my two photo albums and leafed through them, stunned to find that I had a picture of Cap Walters, Desert Don, and a few others hiding in the pages that have been packed for such a long time. And I mentioned in a post about Red Gilman that he always wore a stetson…I lied…I found a picture of him wearing a baseball cap. I guess the mind is one of the first things to go, but where the hell does it go? I remember Red in a stetson – but then I also found him in a black one. Continue reading Montana – some Desert Don
I’ve been out to the desert twice daily ever since Scout came to live with me. And recently finding a Raven’s nest in the top of a mesquite tree, with a big-assed Raven sitting in it until we get too close and stay too long. But how does one get too close to something that’s practically unreachable, and after seeing them drag off pieces of red meat and other things for their meal, who would want to get that close? Continue reading The Raven’s Nest
I keep meaning to get here but it seems to be the last place I land in a week’s time. Sometimes I don’t have any noises I want to write about but I know if I was still the ‘Winehead’ or dealing poker I’d probably be here every day. Whatever the case may be, I seem to run out of time and energy about the time my head is leading me to my pillow. Continue reading Finally…