Michael Craig's Journal

What the hell am I doing playing Pot Limit Omaha? I’ve got John Shipley to my right, David Plastik to my left, and Erick Lindgren has just sat down in seat seven. My original plan was to finish writing the Stud Eight or Better and PLO chapters for the Full Tilt Tournament Guide and play in the PLO to test what I had learned and reward myself for spending at least one day doing what I was supposed to do out here.

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These entries are excerpts from my Journal from July 14-15, or items written from notes contained therein. The experience of watching the HORSE final table was a draining one, and it’s taken me almost two days to put together just a fraction of what I experienced. The previous Journal entry and these vignettes, however, will give you a pretty good idea of how it felt to me.

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It’s almost 10:30 PM Saturday night, more than twelve hours since the last hand in the HORSE event. I’ve slept twice during those twelve hours, and fought to figure out what the whole thing meant.

This is what I have so far, some of it from my notes, some from my recollections, and some that just seems to make sense.

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This was written on Tuesday, July 11, three days ago. Of course, I’m back in Las Vegas now.
Today is getaway day. I’m driving back to Scottsdale for a few days with my family before coming back for a long weekend. I’ll play at least one of the events this weekend, maybe more. Then I’ll go back home for a couple of days and be back in Vegas for the duration unless I can find a couple of pockets of time where I can fly back to Scottsdale.

Don’t go looking for my progress in the $1,000 NLHE event. I was eliminated before the first break; (slightly) more details to follow … maybe.

I’m spending a fair amount of time in the Series – probably more than I’m spending playing – in Full Tilt’s suite.

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I wrote this on Sunday, July 9, as Mike was preparing to play the final table of the $2,500 No-Limit Hold ‘Em event. He had a medium chip stack, but the player with the huge chip lead was to his immediate left. He went out later that day in seventh place. This entry is based on a series of notes I wrote that morning.

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Pirates of Las Vegas

It’s now 1:15 PM on Friday. I’ve gotten four hours of sleep, though probably little perspective on the events of last night. What follows are a combination of notes taken in the hours before dawn, hazy recollections, murmured hearsay from reliable sources, and a steady dose of my own two cents.

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I drove my family to the airport last night at 6:15 p.m. with mixed feelings. We had a great time together and I feel bad about committing so much time to poker and Las Vegas over the next month. But poker is no place for a family, unless your name is Lederer.

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I was in the hot tub with several players from the Ladies event when the fire alarm went off. No, wait, I was dreaming that I was doing that when the fire alarm went off. Regardless, it was 9:37 a.m. when the fire alarm at my hotel went off. I don’t know what set it off, but I do know what the prostitute two doors down wears for pajamas. (Not much.)

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1:55 a.m. – The Smoke & Disinfectant Inn has some problems (such as smelling like smoke and disinfectant) but I left Andy Bloch in the main casino of the Rio at 1:37 and I was back at my room 8 minutes 15 seconds later. And the lights were against me.

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Poker Buffet

10:15 p.m., last night – I got into town at 1:30 a.m. on Friday. Except for some mid-week trips back to Scottsdale for a couple days each, I’ll be here for the next 35 days. For now, I’m staying until Tuesday and my itinerary is more than full: speaking at the Blogger’s Convention on Saturday morning, working on my book, writing some blog entries (like this one), and playing in the $1,000 NLHE on Monday. I spent Friday with Jo Anne and the kids and will do the same Sunday. But Saturday is for the bloggers. A man’s gotta have his priorities straight.

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