Pics or It Didn't Happen - Vegas 2011 Photo Dump

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So here's your standard Southwest Airlines. Back of someone's head. Don't think he was a poker player. Not an auspicious start to this photo dump. But I'm putting the good ones up first to enhance your viewing pleasure. Because that's how I roll. You're welcome.

 

Hash House BLT. It apparently got me off on the wrong foot, from which I never recovered, because shortly after eating this, I went to play a 6pm Rio DeepStack and bluffed into the nuts within 3 hours. That was a real blast.




  

Allen "Chainsaw" Kessler. I saw him out in the hallway as I was heading into the Pavillion to register for that 6pm. I was all, "Allen Chainsaw Kessler?" as I stuck out my hand to shake his hand. He was all suspicious, like, "Uh...Yes?" as he reluctantly shook my hand. I said, "I follow you on Twitter! Hi, I'm PokerLawyer!" And he was all, "Oh! Ok!" Two beats, then confused look and furrowed brows..."Um...who?"  GLGL, sir! 

I saw a guy work on this for two days. I'd leave in the morning, he'd be out there with a level and other carpentry type tools.  I never saw him with any gray duct tape, but I think it adds a classy touch. Nice job, Imperial Palace.

Yeah, so if you look closely, that's Vanessa Selbst, who gave a great presentation for Bad Beat on Cancer right before the Ladies Event. I asked her a question, but when I tried a follow up, she was all, "Did I say I was done talking **********!?!?" Yes, I mean, no....I mean, ah hell..I fold.

I have no idea what the hell was going on because there was some screaming and some dancing and ladies waving swatches of cloth and then BOOM there was Jen Tilly. Sweet.  No one gave me sweet lady kisses or chips so it was a freaking total bust. Get it? Heh heh...I said bust. In the same sentence with lady. Oh, never mind.

Karina Jett, top right in the green shirt, ended up taking second. I was rooting for her and hollered, "Go Karina," as she raked a pot three-handed, and she looked over and smiled. Then security threw me out.

The next day, I busted out of everything there was to bust out of. Yes, I was quite surprised about that, too. Anyway, Mom and Aint Carol were leaving the next day so I decided to hang with them for a bit at Bellagio. They taught me how to play penny slots. Which apparently cost more than 1 cent to play. Which is bullshite. And of course, I lost $40 in, like, 10 minutes. But, the champagne was good, as were the noodles. And then....and then...and then there was the Sapporo. Goooood stuff.

 So I made sure the my elderlys made it back to their room at the Westin, lifted a $20 off my mom for pain and suffering, and headed back to the IP because, you know, comparatively speaking, I was just really getting tired of all that Bellagio fakery passing itself off as true class. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't get a wingman from the batsignal I sent out. Nice.

Jokes aside - the people I played with that night at the cash table were good people and funny. There were the WSOP dealers done for the day but still looking for action and reeking of an apparent 420 cloud they couldn't avoid walking through. There were the canucks and the sporty ladies and the drunks and two local, serious regs.






And then there was this guy.  The 20 year old stud from Liverpool. He told me I was too old for him. Broke my heart. It's ok. I slit the tires on his jazzy when he wasn't looking.

 Made a new friend in purpleshirted Carl-Henrik, who claimed to be some kind of Prince in Sweden. No harm, no foul, because I myself started out as a deaf mute. I miraculously regained my ability to speak as the night wore on (might've had something to do with the Sopporo. It's possible.) After showing him (and the entire table, can I get a cameo?!) the last episode of The Micros (here's a link to their terrific WSOP episode), he demanded that everyone call him "Swede Tooth," which we dutifully did.

End of the night disaster, $6 straddle preflop, entire table calls. BU raises to $25, entire table calls. Everyone checks the flop to the BU, who bets. Folds back to me and I shove. Of course, he quads the turn.  Nicely done you Russian bastard. Phil Helmuth would have similar luck with three such drawing hands at the $50k final table.

The next day, I busted yet another event (yes, I too am still surprised) and proceeded to sweat my friend @txcardslinger who ran deep in the Ladies Event over at Golden Nugget. She did great but ran a short stack (A9o) into BB's Aces, eight from the money. GTFO.

At the Rio, I got acquainted with SoCo, which I'd never had before, thanks to @AlCantHang (that mythical guy from Twitter you all want to be). It was, ok they were, quite refreshing.

Here he's contemplating a fanboy crush.





 

@PokerVixen was kind enough to carry me and @txcardslinger to our rooms one night in her sweet top down ride. That's the night I also met @WriterJen!

Another night, I got to meet some SuperModels at the hooker bar, including Kara Scott (@KaraOTR), @MarieLizette, @JenShahade, @AlCantHang, @Travich and @KevMath. Pretty sure Kara's part zombie and that she tried to slip something in my drink. I managed to hold her at bay - though it wasn't easy. Really quite pushy, that one.

And then, of course, there is The Godfather of Poker, Mr. Doyle Brunson himself...here he had just raked a pot from Allen Bari. Jason Mercier was also at the table...yeah, just trust me. They were there.

 Lots of tough players in this field...sorry you can't see any of them, other than Doyle.

Wait, here's a fantastic one of Patrik Antonius. Promise. That is him. Yes, I know it's the back of his head. It's still him.

And here's Joe Six Pack Gus Hansen. He was about to deck the interviewer, no lie. Ask @ftrainpoker.

And here's Doyle again, this time at Binions...groupiedom. Sorry, can't help it. Look closely and you can also see a really young Phil Helmuth and Johnny 'effing' Chan.

And here is what I guess they're referring to as the Mother Ship of tables at WSOP - where Phil Helmuth came oh so close to winning his 12th bracelet. Again, if you're not watching the @ESPN_Poker livestream to catch these tables, you're missing out. That's Rast there to the left of the dealer. 

And here's the Poker Brat himself right before the dinner break.

 I took one last shot at a Rio DeepStack, to no avail, but did see Leo Margets in line to register for the Main Event. She graciously allowed me to take her picture. She's carrying posh bags from cool Vegas shops. Gogogogo! 

I, on the other hand, went home with this...

Next year, Vegas. Next year...

For a true WSOP photo blog, be sure to follow @WhoJedi for his great photos.