I woke up in our holla-balla suite at the IP Monday morning and knew something was wrong. My head was pounding for the second day in a row and my throat was on fire. The combination of excessive drinking, smoking, and breathing in cigarette-drenched, bone-dry casino air had finally worn out my immune system after a five day bender. By the time we loaded up the car and drove back to Los Angeles, I had developed full-blown Vegas Disease.
I slept until noon today. Pauly and I hit the diner for some sustenance and I promptly passed out again within an hour of returning home. And now here I am at 6:30 PM on Monday evening typing this out.
Despite feeling physically awful at the moment, I had an amazing, epic weekend with the bloggers. It was the most fun I've had at one of these since the first one. I reconnected with old friends I hadn't seen since the WSOP and put faces to some of the newer names in the poker blogging world. My only regret was not being able to spend more time with everyone. It always is.
- Making the final table of the WPBT tournament. I was considering not even playing but once I found out I was on some peoples' fantasy teams, I had to do it. Turned out to be a good thing I did, as I finished in 9th place.
- Going 1-2-3 in the Treasure Island nightly donkament with Maudie and Mean Gene. Maudie came in 1st, I finished 2nd, and Mean Gene earned the bronze medal.
- Eating lobster pot pie at Nobhill and drinking fine wine surrounded by friends. If heaven exists, I hope it's something like that night.
- Spending two nights at Bellagio with my beloved and enjoying another fine meal at Craftsteak. Laying down those pocket tens three-handed at the media event at the WPT Championships last spring might have been my best poker move of the year, as the prize package I received for finishing first brought us a taste of the ultimate in Vegas luxury.
- Meeting the great Johnny Hughes. A fascinating man with a wealth of stories. It was truly a privilege to spend some quality time with him.
- Playing blackjack with Sweet Sweet Pablo in the Champagne Pit as our 80-year old dealer lip-synched the words to the booty songs blasting over the loudspeakers.
More details to come when I feel a bit less like ass...
It sure was good seeing you all.