I’d like to jump start my brain somewhere in the middle of everything that’s going on, that way I could miss half of what has happened, and have the knowledge tucked away that would move me forward into the next step of the plan that never was. That’s how I feel. I had a plan…or did I? Maybe I didn’t. And if Plan A fails, aren’t you supposed to be ready to move to Plan B? Kee-rist! NO SUCH ANIMAL!

There’s still a huge amount of poker to be played at the World Series. I find myself intermittently wanting to be there for hours and then on the other hand, wanting not to be there at all. I happened to notice the list of WSOP winners on the wall, while I was playing the $1,000 buy-in, single table satellite the other night. Of the list, there are only two players that I haven’t dealt to – Sailor Roberts and Hal Fowler. If I’ve dealt to Hal Fowler, I don’t know who he is. In a way, it’s kind of scary that I’ve been around that long. In another way, it’s kind of neat that I’ve experienced a lot ofthe plateaus of poker.

It’s kind of scary that I can’t beat 3-3 with K-K. In the $1,000 satellite, I drew the 3s. The 1s was brash, noisy, knew everything, and somewherearound mid 20’s to 30ish. I just knew I would tangle with him. It’s always that way. When someone at the table is a fuel injected asshole, I know I’m going to have a head on collision with them. He started out by raising with A-6 off, getting a call from the 9s, he flopped Aces up and rivered a 6 for a full, while the 9s kept paying him off on every street until the 9s was all-in and had to leave us. The 1s talked it up, wondering what the guy could have had, blah, blah, blah. The 1s was the chip leader for a short period of time. He called a $400 raise here, a $300 raise there, and complained every time that he couldn’t follow through with anything. Poor guy!

When the blinds went to $50-100, I was in the BB, the pot was raised to $400 by UTG, and two people called. I looked down to A-3H, and called also. The Flop brought A-K-9, one heart. I checked, UTG bet $400, fold to me, I check raised all-in and UTG called. I had him covered. He turned up Q-10H. I won the pot. I was chip leader now. The kids in this game were a mix of guys of all ages, fun, easy to get along with, except for the 1s. He should be calling the Whiner Hot Line.

A few hands later, the 10s was the BB, the 1s raised it to $200, I raised it to $800 with K-K. The BB called and so did the 1s. The Flop brought something like 8-7-2. The BB checked, the 1s went all-in for about $900, Ipushed all-in too. The BB folded, the 1s turned over 3-3. I turned up K-K. Of course a trey popped off on the turn. Then I had to listen to, “I’m so sorry, I don’t deserve to win with this hand. I put a read on you and I was completely wrong…”

I calmly said, “That’s poker,” as the dealer made the pot right and shoved my chips to the 1s *gag*, “And I may do it to you before we’re finished.”

The next hand, I looked down to A-KC, raised it to $500 and proclaimed, “It ain’t steam!”

The boys all laughed and folded. Then it was the dead zone for awhile. The 1s kept frolicing up and down and whining, “I just can’t follow through with a hand, no matter what I call with, I can’t hit.”

I said, “Gee, everytime I pick up K-K, a 3 hits the board.”

It really didn’t even slow him down.

Well…then I picked up the dreaded nines. I was two off of the button. UTG raised it to $400, the 10s raised it to $1,500. I put some serious thought into this hand. Sure…all you pros can say what you want, but I was sure I had the best hand. I almost pitched it because 9-9 had been an ugly hand for me in three previous tournaments. But then some switch clicked inside my head and I just shoved my chips out. The player behind me went into the ‘super tank’ (I found out later that he threw away 10-10). UTG went into the ‘king of super tanks’ and tried to stare me down. I just propped the side of my head onto my hand and gave him the stare back until he finally gave up. WTF is that all about anyway? He folded. The 10s had to call if he had anything, he was almost all-in. He did. He had A-KD. The Flop brought 10-8-3-9-? But the worst of it was that the 9 on the turn was a diamond and made the flush for the 10s. More of my chips went away. The 4s was kicking and cursing that he’d folded 10-10…until he saw the diamonds hit.

The blinds went up. I made it through two more orbits and had $475 when it was my $200 BB. I told the boys that if I had a face card, I was playing. They chuckled. The guy that gave me the ultra stare down, 2nd from UTG, raised it to $600, everyone folded to me. I looked down to K-4H and called. He turned up 3-3. OMG! The dreaded threes. Not to worry, he made a full house. Have I mentioned how much I hate poker? Just K-I-D-D-I-N-G!

Amazingly, the following day, I played a $175 satellite, and picked up 9-9 UTG. The blinds were $25-50, and I raised it to $150. I got five callers back to the SB, he went all-in. Kee-rist! I folded. He got one caller, 8-8. The 1s turned up A-A. The guy next to me folded 8-8 also. The board came K-Q-J-A-10. They split the pot. Those bastard nines. I’m done with them…

Subject change:

Even though I hate heights and tiny spaces and places and too much motion, I couldn’t help but find a fascination in the Stratosphere (Yes I’ve been to the restaurant on top).

This is the overall of the height and the ride…thriller, chiller that is it:

Notice the green object? This is the viewbefore the whole thing swings out (OVER SPACE…WAY TOO MUCHSPACE) and the arms open up…ARMS? Help, I need Mommy’s arms for this one.

Say your prayers dahling…you gon’ die here!

I have to wonder if the sky is the limit in this city…or anywhere else for that matter. While I’m wondering, I think this whole thing falls under the category of ‘fast forward’. You won’t ‘see me there’.