LAS VEGAS – Seven hours later, and I’m done. Hell, I’m done, and had time to have dinner. Wasn’t the first to bust out. Didn’t make the dinner break. Was more aggressive, which doesn’t work when you’re up against a passive calling station who seems to think he’s in a $4-$8 game at the Mirage. He just keeps calling when he should be folding, and cripples then busts me on three hands in the third hour of the tournament. I can’t make him go away. I’d like to get him in a cash game for the rest of his life, or until his money runs out.
I didn’t play as well as I would have liked to, but didn’t play at all badly.
The tournament was shunted off to the Pavilion, which is basically a pre-fab tent-like structure, which was an adventure this afternoon, with winds howling through Las Vegas from the West. Listening to the Pavilion creak and moan, all I could think was “If we land on the Wicked Witch of the East, her sister is going to hold us responsible.”
Don’t have another major tournament until Monday, but CineVegas starts tomorrow. Actually, it’s starting now, but apparently they don’t let the press pick up their credentials until after Clooney, Pitt and company arrive and depart for the premiere of Ocean’s Thirteen, the opening night film.
