Michael Craig's Journal

At least that’s what my most infamous Detroit friend Marshall Mathers said. (If I hadn’t mentioned it before, I hail from Detroit. In fact, I went to high school with Madonna, or dated Madonna, depending on which version of the story I’m telling.)

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At about 10:03 PM, I busted out of the Main Event of the World Series of Poker. I’ll be fine in the morning; the recovery process has already begun. But I’m too spent by it all to write a proper entry.

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The tournament starts in 71 minutes from when I’m writing this.

I admit it: the butterflies are starting to flutter.

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. Rumble, young man. Rumble.

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It’s 2:45 AM on Sunday. I play in the Main Event in eight hours and forty-five minutes. (Table 105, Seat 8, if you want to drop by and say hello.) Something in my mind can’t register that this is for real.

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I was in the Full Tilt suite, showing my movie producer around the World Series. (Yeah, I know I should explain that one and I will, just LATER.) The players in flight 1-B went on break and the room sprang to life.

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I’m signing my books (and, hopefully, selling them) at the PokerPainter.com booth at the World Gaming Expo at 1 PM today (Saturday). Please stop by. Even if you don’t buy a book, we can shoot the breeze and maybe wrangle passersby into thinking I’m doing a brisk business.

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I just started reading Peter Alson’s TAKE ME TO THE RIVER, an account of Peter’s play at the World Series last year, wedding not long after, and his life at the crossroads. I’m sure I’m not doing the book justice through that description and my initial reaction, if I didn’t know the author, would be, “Another guy telling us how he did at the World Series? Wow.”

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Yesterday’s Celebrity/Media Tournament at the World Series was a bust. I found out at the last moment that the money was, indeed, going to charity. It was too late to back out and stupid pride and conceit took over.

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A tradition at the WSOP since time immemorial is the Media Tournament. Originally conceived by Eric Drache and Jack Binion to teach the media about the news story they were about to report – and to put a few bucks in the pockets of reporters they were pleased just to have show up – it offered bragging rights, cash prizes, a reunion with comrades, and some of the worst poker imaginable. Traditionally, the winner was some guy who wrote a column for CARD PLAYER whose real job was cleaning up in the $30-$60 Stud came at the Golden Nugget.  (more…)

By Michael Craig, Exclusive Internet Content Provider of Roshambo, the Rematch

I have just witnessed a war.

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