Michael Craig's Journal

I’ve been enjoying my family and sleeping in the same bed for five straight nights, so I apologize about not having written anything since concluding the Matusow-Grizzle saga. You have to admit, though, that it makes for great Halloween-season reading. Hope you enjoyed it. I’ve also been proofreading my way though the FULL TILT TOURNAMENT EDITION manuscript (500 double-spaced pages) and tying up loose ends. (I’m writing bios of the players and trying to get Chris Ferguson to realize that November 6 is truly a final date for making major changes, though I’m telling this to a guy who spent 13 years on his dissertation.)

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Some kind of scene was going on between Grizzle and Matusow to which I was not privy, and did not want to become privy. Sam was holding his cell phone away from his face, and it sounded like someone was talking very loud on the other end. I think he was trying to get Mike to take the phone and speak to that person.

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Sorry about the delay in finishing the Matusow-Grizzle saga. I did wrap-up interviews with Andy Bloch and Chris Ferguson since Wednesday night plus drove home from Vegas. I’m seeking legal advice regarding sharing certain portions of the story. I’ll try to resolve that and pass it along soon.

So I followed Mike Matusow downstairs, where he proceeded to drop to the floor and fall asleep in front of a 72-inch TV for the next 3 hours.

And yes, that was Sam Grizzle sprawled on Mike’s couch.

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I get it, I get it.

From the comments I’ve gotten and all the e-mails, you guys are getting impatient to hear the rest about Mike Matusow, Sam Grizzle, and whatever other improbably people and places showed up in my adventures of Sunday night.

So let me say the following:

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So I go up the darkened stairs of the darkened house to Mike Matusow’s bedroom which is, naturally, dark. Except it’s not completely dark because the big TV is on. If Mike can save money by getting a TV without an on/off switch, he should jump at it because this set gets very little downtime. The Raiders-Cardinals football game is in its closing minutes.

As I always do in these situations, I take a mental inventory of the room. Then when it’s clear Mike is asleep, I take a written inventory.

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You’re going to have to tease this story out of me. I told a version of it to Amy Calistri this morning and she said, at one point, “You’ve got to be making this up,” and at another, “I think this is just some hallucination of yours.” Finally, she concluded, “This is too strange for you to be making this up.”

It’s all true, but so strange and disjointed that it’s hard to piece together. So I have to give it to you bit by bit.

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I have these experiences in poker every so often - actually, I have them SO often - that I just have to ask myself after, “What the hell just happened?”

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That expression is supposed to be an ancient Chinese curse. I was reminded of it for two reasons. First, several people have said to me recently - none really as a compliment - that I lead an interesting life. Second, I just learned that it’s NOT an ancient Chinese curse.

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One of the fringe benefits of the Andy Beal games and my proximity to them is that I got to meet Steve Wynn. I saw a story today about Wynn that I had to share, and use as an excuse to tell my Wynn story and a few other details.

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