A couple of days ago, my wife and I put our kid to bed. Any parent knows what it feels like to exhale after another long day. I collapsed in my chair and looked at the woman who had once been my drinking buddy and is now the much-too-fit mother of my only child.

"I don't remember what it felt like," I said. "What was our life like before we had a kid?"

"We were never here," she smirked. And she was right. Five years ago, if we weren't working, we were out at a show, a bar, or a camp site. Still, it was nearly impossible to remember what life was like before the kid revolution on Mt. Otis.

Even if you lived the poker life before the poker revolution, I bet it's very hard to remember what it was like in the days before the 2003 World Series of Poker. Nine men sat at that final table. Many of them became famous. One of them helped revolutionize poker.

Now, five years later, it's interesting to look back and see what happened to them.

David Singer--9th place--Once a seven-card stud grinder, Singer's ninth place finish and $120,000 payday at the 2003 WSOP was, at the time, his biggest cash ever. Since then, however, Singer has become a well-respected tournament pro and has amassed more than $3.5 million in winnings. He's a red pro at Full Tilt Poker. In 2007, he final tabled the WSOP $50,000 HORSE event and won the first ever Caesars Palace Classic for $1 million.

David Grey--8th place--Unlike most people at the final table, Grey actually made more money in a previous event than he did at the 2003 WSOP final table. He won nearly $200,000 in 1999 for a victory in a seven card stud event. In 2003, he earned $160,000. Since 2003, Grey has had just one other six figure cash. In 2005, he won a little more than $365,000 for his bracelet win in the No Limit Deuce to Seven Lowball event at the WSOP. He's still a regular on the poker circuit and made it to the final three tables of the WPT Championship last month.

Young Pak--7th place--You remember him? Because I certainly don't. Regardless, he was there at the same final table with the rest of these guys. He placed seventh and won $200,000. There has been no reason for you to hear from him since. He cashed in a few more events in the following years. However, 2006 was the last time he cashed in a major poker tournament.

Amir Vahedi--6th place--Vahedi is one of those people who was around long before 2003 and will be around until someone poisons his cigar. Few people know that his final table finish was not his biggest win at the 2003 WSOP. Just a couple of weeks before the 2003 main event, Vahedi won a bracelet in another event for $270,000. His sixth place finish in the main event earned him $250,000. Today, he has more than $3 million in career tournament winnings. Just last month, he was bubbled the WPT TV table in his seveth place finish at the WPT Championship. In 2007, he cashed in 14 tournaments.

Tomer Benvenisti--5th place--I can still hear Lon McEachern saying Benvenisiti's name. Problem is, I haven't heard him say it since the 2003 broadcast. While Benvenisiti stood a great chance at becoming as big of a star as the rest of the people at the table, he simply didn't. He's still playing, though. Just last month, Benvenisti cashed in a prelim tournament at the Caesars WSOP Circuit event. He won $1,379.

Jason Lester--4th place--Before the 2003 World Series, Lester had never won more than $29,000 in a poker tournament. His fourth place finish in 2003 earned him $440,000. While his name is not held in the same reverence as many of the other people at this final table, he has managed to win more than $1.6 million in tournament poker and a WSOP bracelet in Pot-Limit hold'em. His last cash was at last year's WSOP.

Dan Harrington--3rd place--Harrington is one of a few people from the 2003 final table that needs no introduction. His books and record have come to speak for themselves. With $6 million in career tourney earnings, Action Dan has won more tournament money than any other single player at the 2003 final table. In August 2007, Harrington won more than $1.5 million in the WPT Legends of Poker event. It was his first first place finish since the year 2000.

Sammy Farha--2nd place--Farha's heads-up match with Chris Moneymaker is now the stuff of legend. It's usually forgotten that Farha won $1.3 million at that final table. Thanks in part to GSN's High Stakes Poker, Farha has become as well known for his high stakes cash play as he was for his runner-up finish in 2003. Regardless, he's still active on the tournament circuit. He won $398,560 and a WSOP bracelet in 2006 for a first place finish in the Omaha Hi-Lo event. Still, he hasn't made a major tournament cash since April 2007.

Chris Moneymaker--2003 World Series Champion-By the end of 2003, nearly everyone knew that Moneymaker had no poker past. His $2.5 million win gauranteed him a poker future. Shortly after his revolutionary win, Moneymaker earned another $200,000 in the WPT Shooting Star event. Although he has cashed a few more times since then (he has ten total cashes for around $2.8 million in live tournament winnings), he has not come close to hise 2003 success. Still, he is one of PokerStars' top pros and continues to play around the world.

***

Outside of the birth of the WSOP and the birth of the main event satellites, there haven't been many more important times for poker than 2003. Televised poker boomed, online poker boomed, the WSOP boomed. Everyone can say what they will about Moneymaker's talent or how the "poker boom would've happened anyway." I, for one, choose to give credit where credit is due.

It's now been five years since that May night when Moneymaker helped open the tent to everybody. Seven out of the nine people at the final table are what could still be described as "name pros." Poker, despite all the setbacks caused by the UIGEA, continues to thrive.

Next week, we can celebrate the anniversary of the day that made everything from blogger tournaments to bloggers playing in the WSOP as possible as it is today. What happened five years ago is the reason many of us can do what we do today. Whether it's making a living from poker play, poker writing, and poker affiliate deals or simply enjoying playing poker online and watching poker on TV, the 2003 WSOP played a big role in making it all happen.

That is a long way of saying, if not for the WSOP final table in 2003, we all could be trying to get on Dancing with the Stars instead of chasing gutterballs and writing about bad beats.

I think you know which one I prefer.

I used to say, "I have the bladder of a pregnant woman." Then, my wife got pregnant and still lasted longer between trips to the head than me. The Otis family bladder is pretty legendary. It defies all marketing plans about the distance between truck stops and laughs out loud at medical studies. If you were to put my father, brother, and me in a car for a road trip to Vegas and someone offered you an over/under bet on the number of times we'd stop to use the restroom, you should take the over--no matter what the line was.

Here's a confession I think I've only made to one person in my life.

Back in the late 90s, my relationship with Mrs. Otis was only a couple of years old. I lived in Jackson, Mississippi. She lived in Columbia, Missouri. I made the drive up to my old college town about once every two weeks. I'd get off work around 6pm, grab a bag of sunflower seeds and two one-liter bottles of Diet Mountain Dew. Even if I drove like a crazy person, the drive usually took around eight hours. I could cut 20 minutes off the trip if I only stopped for gas. I don't think I have to tell you that I saved the lids off the one-liter soda bottles for a reason.

Why do I bring it up now? Well, as I might have mentioned a few weeks back, I am an occasional reader of high-stakes no-limit grinder Leatherass9's blog. He recently made a confession on his blog to which I can relate--at least to the degree that I know where he's coming from, if not related to poker and EV. Here's a quick synopsis...the guy figured out how much he was costing himself to get up and go to the bathroom. He wrote, "So it essentially cost me $100 to pee. Twice a day makes that $200 and if I play about 250 days a year (very conservative estimate) that means it costs me $50,000 a year to pee which was more than I used to make at my old job!"

While I've never been serious enough about poker to pee in a bottle (I wonder what Jim Croce would've sung about that), I have put significant thought into how urination and poker go together. See, I've never understood people who take multiple breaks during poker tournaments. I know a couple of people who will take one or two smoke breaks per level (not including the official breaks) of major poker tournament. Leaving the table for a nic-fix or to go to the bathroom requires more than a "I want it" or "I gotta go." One should take into consideration a wide variety of factors. If leaving the table, it should be done in such a way that you give up as little positional advantage as possible while not missing any of your blinds. Thus, there are only a couple of times during an orbit when you can leave the table.

During that first year at the World Series, I happened upon this way of doing things. I'm happy to share it with you now.

The Otis Strategy for Urinating During a Poker Game

This one came early in the tournament, the 15/30 level. I had worked my way up to 3380T and was the chip leader at the table of 6. UTG, I call with 9c9sTdJs. I like grouped cards plus I had a pair and a flush possibility. Five of us see a flop of Tc5h9h. What's not to like, right? At this point, I'm only behind pocket T's. I lead out for 100 into a pot of 150 and get called by Mean Gene.

The turn is a seemingly harmless Ace of diamonds. It doesn't complete a straight and it doesn't complete a flush. It's unlikely to give Gene a set of Aces because he didn't raise preflop. That card couldn't have hurt me. I lead out 275 into a pot 350. Should I be betting the pot? I should, right?

This is where I become a giant pussy. Gene raised me to 445 to 720. "Really?" I type. "The ace did it."

"Nah," Gene tells me.

"Already had it?" I ask. "Big draw?" My time runs out, and I fold. I'm really out of practice, especially in Omaha, and I think my rust caused me to see a monster. It wasn't logical, but I saw it nonetheless. He raises preflop with Aces and he didn't raise. The chance of him having the last two T's is slim (remember, I have a T). Unless he's sitting on a monster draw like QJh, I'm in great shape. And yet, I folded.

"Top 3 pair," he tells me. Bad fold. Terrible fold.

It's Level VII now (150/300) and I'm among the chipleaders with 9477T. There are only five of us at the table now. Again, I'm UTG, this time with 8hJs9dTh. Once again, they're grouped, and I think they offer lots of possibilities. I limp again and three of us see a flop of KcQd7s. Bayne leads with a pot-sized bet of 900.

I have to call, right? I don't raise, right? The turn is the 8s. It puts a flush draw out there, but I shouldn't be too worried about that, should I? Anyway, the 8 gives me even more outs. Now, I complete my straight with any 6, 9, T, J or A.

Bayne leads out with another pot-sized bet of 2700. To me, that suggests he's trying to push out the draws. So he's sitting on a set or two pair, right?

This is where my tough decision comes. There's 5400 in the pot right now and I need to bet 2700 to see a river. If I'm getting 2-to-1 on my money, then I need to be getting 2-to-1 odds. My rough math had me with at least 17 outs out of 40 cards. I could have been wrong, but I figured it was good enough to call.

The river was a blank for me, the 4 of spades. Surprisingly, Bayne checked. I suppose I could have bluffed the flush. Would he have folded? I doubt it. I checked behind him and his set of Queens took it down. (He held 7d8dQsQh.)

Now this is where it all went down hill. We're down to three players. I had been as high as 25K, but a cold run had me down to 16K. AA_Matt_AA sat with 11K and Bayne had 8K.

From the SB, I'm dealt Js7sJc8c. I like that hand a lot three-handed. I've got a big pair, grouped cards and I'm double-suited. Bayne raises to 2400 UTG. I think my first mistake was not re-raising, but I just call. We see a flop of Td6cQc.

I've got a flush draw and a gutshot straight draw. All in all, I'd call that a good flop. The question is whether or not I want to get all the chips in the middle. I'm pretty sure Bayne is playing a big pair, just hopefully not Qs. If he does have an overpair, I think I have a lot of outs.

I check, he bets the pot, and I check-raise him all-in. I think I like the play, but I'm not sure. Bayne shows 9hKh3hKd. I'm glad the read was right, but I lost some of my outs. The turn is the Ks, which puts me in even worse shape. I'm down to any 9 or any club that doesn't pair the board.

The river is the Th. Not only does it not help me, but it gives Bayne the boat. I'm down to just a few thousand chips. It doesn't take long for me to bust out.

Did I play these right? I'm positive I should have pushed with my pocket 9s in the first hand. Should I have been more aggressive with my draws? I did an awful lot of calling. How about the check-raise on the last hand? I could have just called and then folded to the big bet with the K on the turn.

Anyway, I'll wait for some of you PLO experts to let me now if I could have played it another way. Hopefully I'll see some of you at the tables tomorrow at the next Saturdays with Dr. Pauly.

***

If you're just tuning in, see The Big Pair Limp Question for background.

Let me begin by acknowledging, there is no right answer to this question. Lee Jones' initial argument in favor of Esfandiari's move was convincing and sound in its foundation (maybe someday I'll convince him to guest post here and fully explain his reasoning).

It simply comes down to a "What would I do" question. The answer: I wouldn't limp with pocket queens under the gun in that particular situation.

With 20 or so players left, Esfandiari had the chip lead and double the chip average. I don't recall whether he'd played much with Stig Top-Rasmussen, but I know they had just recently been seated at the TV table together. Still, Stig had developed a reputation. He was a wild, celebratory, loose, hyper-aggressive Danish player who occasionally made moves that could politely be described as unconventional. I don't know if Esfandiari was specifically targetting Stig here or anyone who might raise. I do know, however, that Esfandiari was justified in believing in his big pairs. They'd been holding up for two days and played a large role in his chip lead.

Here, The Magcian had a choice. He could raise or limp. Limping wass sure to be suspect and opened him up to the possibility of playing queens against a wide variety of hands. Raising, though, would possibly kill his action. Which is worse?

Proponents of Esfandiari's move suggest that limping could serve to incite more action (as it obviously did), and, in the event everybody limps, Esfandiari could simply play his hand differently than he might otherwise. Again, a fine argument. In the event someone raises, he can re-raise and hopefully take down the pot right there. Thing is, that didn't happen.

So, what happens if he raises pre-flop? He might get a call, he might not. Stig might make the move in the big blind or he might not. There are other possibilities as well, and they are the reasons I think Esfandiari might have been smarter to take a more traditional line. Stig might have made a more conventional re-raise, at which point Esfandiari could've re-raised to announce the true strength of his hand. Or, Stig might have smooth called pre-flop, whiffed the flop, and given Esfandiari a chance to take down the pot then.

Again, none of those things happened. Here we saw a perfect storm of two gamblers' plays meeting over a massive pile of chips. Esfandiari was obviously the smarter of the two, but in the end it didn't matter.

I couldn't help but continuing to delve into the hyopthetical, however. It occurred to me, that Stig also makes that same move with Ace-King. In that case, Esfandiari has forced himself to play the biggest pot of the tournament on a coin flip when there is still a signficiant number of people left in event. Nobody likes to take a coin flip in that situation, but that would've been the result. The counter to that argument is valid as well...that it stood a greater chance of being a hand other than AK, and hence it was the right play.

The greatest argument in favor of Esfandiari's move is that he got his money in as a favorite. He gave him chance to have a gigantic chip lead (read: utility) with 20 players remaining. The fact that the result did not go the right way is irrelevant. Again, it's hard to argue that. We make decisions based the odds. Sometimes they don't go our way.

There is a counter to this arguement however. While the utility of having nearly 3 million chips when everybody else has under 1 million is immense, there is something to be said for having 1.6 million when everbody else has less than a million and the blinds are still at 5,000/10,000/1,000. It's a question of whether you want to risk giving up the only power you have for a chance at obtaining more power.

In the end, there is nothing wrong with Esfandiari's play. It was a gambler's move aimed at giving him a better shot at owning the tournament. It missed and so did he. Critics (I suppose this one included) would say that Esfandiari's attempt to give him a better chance at winning the tournament ended up in severely reducing his chance at winning the tournament. It's one thing to not go out like Broomcorn's uncle. It's another thing to have a chip lead and take a gamble for half your stack.

After I wrote the initial post, there came a time I was able to stand right over Stig's shoulder as his stack slowly dwindled back down to where it started before the hand with Esfandiari. I watched Stig clash with another unconventional line. This time it worked the way it was supposed to.

(From the PokerStars Blog): In one of the biggest pots yet, Henrik Gwinner came in for a raise and PokerStars qualifier Michael Martin called. Stig Top-Rasmussen re-raised from the big blind for an additional 190,000. Again, Martin called. The flop came out J92 and Rasmussen almost immediately pushed in. The only thing faster was Martin's call for his entire stack--516,000 more. Rasmussen shows pocket sevens to Martin's slow-played pocket aces. The board bricks out and Martin wins a massive pot, totalling around 1.5 million.

What's interesting, is that of all the guys involved in these big pots, none of them finished better than fifth place. As for the two involved in the hand in question, Stig finished in tenth place. Esfandiari ended up finishing in eighth.

I think this all goes to show two things. First, one hand does not always make a tournament. Second, I'm probably more conservative than the vast number of tournament players and that's probably why I finish second more than first.

As I write this, I'm folding away in 3 Poker Stars SNGs. I can usually fold my way into the final four and then scrape a few bucks in the end. If I were a patient man I'd make good money this way.

A good SNG is like an easy contract job. It helps cover a shortfall when the bills are due.

As a rule, I don't win much but enough that whenever I sit down and fire 3 or 4 up I'll have a few extra dollars in the "Cashier" window.

If I were a reasonable man, I'd be very profitable at poker.

THE BLACK HOLE

Even now, while still folding in my SNGs, I'm drawn to that list of gigantic MTTs. I'm like a lottery junkie. Frankly, the odds of me actually winning an MTT are about the same as the lottery.

If you ask my friends, those I rope into watching me as I approach the big payout, they'll tell you I've developed a pretty standard tournament profile. It goes as follows:

1. Semi-patient I fold marginal hands for an hour.
2. My patience pays off and I build a decent stack the moment I catch a few cards.
3. I use the second hour and most of the third turning my stack and, now, more aggressive style.
4. The blinds escalate, I lose my cool.
5. I make a very stupid play and go from a massive final table stack to the bubble.
6. I curse out loud and close the laptop without bothering to log off.

Sometimes I'll notice the clock on my cable box is nearing the top of the hour and quickly log in to Stars to see if there's a good tournament coming up.

If the only tournament is well beyond what I can comfortably handle in my roll, I'll convince myself I'm playing well enough to win anyway and register.

If my roll is just a little shy, I'll boot up an SNG and build it up a little so I can play in one of the big boys an hour later.

Pathetic no?

By the way, I've jut won one of my SNGs and missed the money in the other two. Thus, I've made a very small amount of money.

It's 11:15 as I post this.

I'm looking for something to do until some nice big tournaments start again at noon.

Quick background: Antonio "The Magician" Esfandiari has been running over the tournament for two days. With the chip average just over 600,000, he has 1.6 million or so. He's been moved to the TV table with a rather loose-aggressive Dane named Stig Top-Rasmussen. Rasmussen has about 700,000 chips. Blinds are at 5,000/10,000/1,000. Twenty-one players are still left in the event. First place pays more than €2 million.

The hand (from the PokerStars Blog): Antonio limped UTG to see the button and small blind limp as well. Stig, in the big blind, thought about the situation for a bit and then pushed his 700k chips across the line. Almost without hesitation, Antonio called. The others ran for cover before Antonio turned over QQ. Stig somewhat sheepishly showed his AT. When the smoke cleared, the board read 7 3 4 A J and Stig was stacking about 1.5 million in chips.

You choose: I'm still thinking about the hand, but I have 90% definite opinion. Lee Jones differs. Tell me what you think and why.

A) Antonio, based on his chip position, was wrong to limp with queens

B) Antonio, based on his chip position, was right to limp with queens.

I'd also, just for entertainment value, be interested to hear your opinion on Stig's play.

I have registered to play in the PokerStars World Blogger Championship of Online Poker!

This Online Poker Tournament is a No Limit Texas Holdem event exclusive to Bloggers.

Registration code: 7777600

I don't like reviews so much. Trusting one person to tell you where to go is how you ended up drinking Ovaltine until you were 20. So, here I'm going to try to stick to a concensus formed among a number of people I know who have played in Caesars poker room. I trust everyone who reads this will feel free to back me up or correct me in the comments. Don't be shy. My feelings aren't easily hurt.

THE CAESARS TOURNAMENT ROOM

Caesars is one of few places you'll find in Las Vegas that has designated an entire room--a room much bigger than most poker rooms--solely for tournament play. Sepia toned pictures of some of your favorite poker players surround you and the seats are pretty damned comfortable. I have played several tournaments there and have managed to final table my last two. My feelings about this room are about as mixed as they come.

The Good

Depending on which tournament you play, the number of players and the amount of play you get for your dollar tends to vary. My last foray into the room saw me buying into the noon $200 tournament. On a Thursday afternoon, the tournament drew only 44 people (a far cry from what some of the $120 events later in the day draw). However, even with 44 people, there was actual poker being played. It was not a push and hope fest after the first level. In fact, it took us more than six hours to reach the final table and the winner was not declared until two hours later. Frankly, I'm not sure if I've found more play for such an inexpensive buy-in in any daily tournament. Even if I hadn't ended up making a little money on the deal, I would've been happy about the amount of poker I got for my buy-in. Now, to be fair, the structure in the later events is a lot faster and doesn't allow for nearly as much poker. The previous event I played was a $120 event that went off at 11pm. It drew around 145 players mid-week. We finished the final table before 5am.

Other good marks include a competent dealing staff and a rather good payout structure.

The Bad

If it hadn't been for the Rio's screw up with a recent World Series of Poker, we could all still cut some good deals in Harrah's property tournaments. I don't have this information down to the detail, but, according to a number of sources, the kind of money deals worked out during the WSOP ended up costing the U.S. government about half a million bucks in unreported winnings. As I heard the story, the IRS was none too happy with this and Harrahs ended up cutting a deal that requires them to pay out exactly the percentages listed on their payout schedules. If you ask a poker room manager at Caesars about this, he will tell you that the Nevada Gaming Commission requires Caesars to follow these rules and at no point will Caesars pay out an amount different than listed on the payout schedule.

So, no big deal? Well, not really. See, anyone who cashes out of a Caesars tournament for more than $600 is required to sign for it, generating a W2G and, thus, a record of winnings. Now, if I have poker winnings at the end of the year, I pay taxes on them. Here's the rub. Say you're down to the final table of a tournament at Caesars and, for whatever reason, you want to cut a deal. It doesn't matter how much money any of the players take out of the prize pool, someone is going to have to sign for top prize.

So, let's take a look at a tournament I played recently. At the end of it, four of us took an even chop for $2,000 a piece. One of those four players ended up having to sign for more than $4,000. I can tell you right now...it wasn't me, nor will it ever be unless I get consideration in the deal.

And that's what people say: Just work it out in the deal! Well, if you've ever worked a deal at a final table, you know that so many factors come into play that adding taxes into the mix can be the one thing that throws a deal out of whack. Trying to convince some guy from Brazil (who already has to give up a full 1/3 of his payout because of tax treaty issues with the U.S) that he has to sign for even more money than he's going to win is damned near impossible. So, deals fall apart. Or, if they get made...well, that's where things get even more interesting.

In the last tournament I played, we had been playing for nearly seven hours and were down to seven players. Only five were going to get paid. We decided it would be nice if the bottom two players got a little something for all thier effort. So, we made a little save for sixth and seventh place that guaranteed we all got a little profit on the deal. That's all well and good. However, after six and seventh place busted, they (and that includes me...) had to wait around for the entire tournament to finish before the could get paid. Because sixth and seventh place weren't listed on the payout sheet, Caesars wouldn't bring the money out. Plus, there was no way any of the rest of the players would go ahead and buy out sixth and seventh place, because none of them knew whether they were going to have to sign for bottom money or top money. Yeah, back to the taxes.

So, if you're going to play in Caesars tournaments, be aware that your ability to make a fair deal is going to be a lot harder than somewhere that is not a Harrah's property.

Side note: I need to include this, because it ruined my last experience. Something was going on with the speaker system in the tournament room. For for two hours, it sounded like there was a power drill over our heads, sometimes loud enough to keep the players from hearing each other. Despite our repeated requests for Doug, the manager on duty, to call someone about it, he refused and said there was nothing he could do. Although there were about ten open tables in the main poker room, Doug also refused to move us to the other room. In short, Doug was rather unhelpful at every turn. I do not find him representative of the staff there, but he did help ruin many players' experience that day out of a sheer unwillingness to be accomodating to his customers. I'm going to hope he was just having a bad day.

The Ugly

If there is one thing that will probably keep smart players from flocking to Caesars tournament room for the $100-$200 buy-in tournaments, it's the juice. It's about as disgusting as any place I have played. For instance, in the $200 event that goes off at noon, $35 goes to the house. If memory serves correctly, I believe the $120 events that go off later in the day charge $25-$30 juice. I'm not even sure why I bothered, except for the fact that I came out of the last two tournaments feeling happy and with more money in my pocket. Not as much money, however, as if the room didn't fleece me on the juice.

Think about that for a second. We'll say the juice on the last $120 I played was $25 (even though I think it was $30). At 145 players, Caesars made $3,625 in juice. I don't know how that breaks down going to the staff and dealers, but it's still pretty damned sick. I believe in the staff and dealers getting their tokes, but when the juice on a $120 is that big, convincing folks to tip any more is going to be hard.

I no like-a da juice.

THE CAESARS POKER CASH GAME ROOM

With all of the above said, I adore the Caesars cash room. I reserve my cash play in Vegas for a few places and Caesars is one of them. For the small to mid level player, there isn't much better place to play. The $1/$3 NL game is capped at a perfect $500. With that much money in play, the game plays a little bigger and allows for much better action than other $1/$2 NL games in town.

Even better, the $2/$5 and $5/$10 NL games are uncapped. I've never played the $5/$10 game but an uncapped $2/$5 NL game is a thing of beauty. It's the only $2/$5 game I've ever played that had $40,000 on the table at one time.

Caesars also runs several low-limit limit hold'em games and will spread other games on request. Management recently introduced a high hand jackpot. The day I was there, it was paying between $60 and $400 for quads up to royal flushes.

The room is well-run, has a good floor staff, and a competent dealer staff. Unlike other poker rooms, this one is cut off from the main casino by a thich set of walls and has the feeling of a private room, despite its enormous size. It's quiet and comfortable, despite being on the other side of the wall from Pure and the Caesars sports book.

If I had one complaint about Caesars room when compared to other rooms, it's that their staff of servers is slower than any place I've been. Waiting for food and drink there is like waiting for a premium hand. I've heard a variety of excuses for this and don't know which to believe. Some people say it's because it's a union shop. Other folks say the waitresses have to travel too far to get their orders filled. Regardless, it's the one thing I would correct about the service at Caesars.

***

So, that's that. Correct me if you like. Back me up if you life. Fill in the holes where you like. Bottom line, if you can stand slow service and some of the worst tourney juice I've ever seen, I'd recommend Caesars poker room. Just be sure you lock me up a seat.

That plan almost failed when my 88 was all in preflop against Pushmonkey's 99... but I calmly asked for an 8 in the chat box and the dealer obliged on the flop. From there, I was at or near the chip lead the whole way. Here now is my best Hoy impersonation (minus the donkey references):

Hand 1
This was some tricky strategy. I employed my super, reverse tell, continuation check manuever. Ah, screw that. I got all in with JTo vs. Iggy's Hiltons and I sucked out hard core. It's what I do.

Hand 2
Some more tricky strategy here. This time, it was against Garth and I had to be extra sneaky. Ah, screw that. I limped with the HAMMER. Flopped trips. Turned a boat. And cracked his Aces. The best part was when Al said, "Hammer goot" before the showdown.

Hand 3
At this point, oossuuu754 had promised me that he was in my rear view mirror. I told him I couldn't see him. He said I wouldn't until he passed me. So when I flopped top pair with KJo, I let him do all the work. He pushed with his AT and never improved.

Hand 4
I'm heads up now with FishyMcDonK and I have a 9-to-1 chip lead. He actually made quite a comeback, cutting my advantage to about 3-to-2. But it all ended when I masterfully and strategically flopped top pair to his second pair and all the money went in.

And that was that. Beware... my game is feeling good again. I'll see you at the tables!

I'm fascinated by this hand. I'm fascinated because I think both players played it very well and did what they had to do to win. Further, I'm fascinated because the players were able to make the moves they did with so much on the line. I was there for the beginning, middle, end, and epilogue. I heard no talk of any deal and honestly believe there was none.

And, so, this is how it played out.

It was the end of the 25,000/50,000/5,000 level. The players would go on break and play higher and later into the night.

Gavin made it 150,000 to go pre-flop and Marc re-raised to 400,000. Marc played a very aggressive game from the beginning of the tournament to the end. If he believed he was ahead or believed his opponent was weak, he would re-pop it. I'm not saying he was always right, but he was rarely afraid to make the moves.

Gavin called. And this didn't surprise me much. Gavin played great after the flop. He actually spent an entire day moving from 800,000 up to 2.6 million without ever busting a player. He was fantastic at using his table image to pick up pots post-flop.

And so the flop. It came out, as I wrote, 2s-3c-4d. To be fair, in this heads up battle, the flop could've hit or missed either of them. An amateur's read (mine), however, was that this flop was neither helpful to either of their hands, nor particular hurtful. I figured Marc for pocket eights or nines, and Gavin for a big/middle ace.

Marc pushed out a bet of 500,000. He seemed no more and no less confident than he always was. From my vantage point, I couldn't see Gavin's face. He always rested his chin on his left hand. He has been sick that day and was sniffling in between hands. He was starting to look tired. He didn't think especially long before announcing he was raising to two million.

The heads up battle had been going on for about two hours. There had been swings of a million here and there. Now, a hand that looked to get interesting. It's that moment when everyone watching moves from a slumped position to the front of their seat. All talking stops. It becomes absolutely quiet except for the sound of the cameras moving into position.

"All-in," Marc said and stood up.

Gavin had half his chips in the pot already. Everybody in the room knew, unless he had air, he was going to call. He had Marc covered by 500,000. It wan't really enough to play with, but, even so, I felt sure Gavin would call.

Gavin shook his head. "You have the best hand," he said.

"Air?" I thought. No, he was calling. He had to be.

"You're calling?" Marc asked. I wasn't sure if he was sitting in disbelief or if he was ecstatic.

"Yeah, I call," Gavin said.

"I have a pair of fours," Marc said, grabbed for his cards and slammed them on the table.

A pair of fours? Did he mean he had a set? No, I could see, he had a four and a ...seven? Yeah, he did. He had re-popped pre-flop, bet out and re-raised the flop, and he had top pair with a seven kicker. What's more, he was right. He was, if not statistically, at least in reality, ahead.

There was a moment during which we couldn't see Gavin's cards. The tournament director wanted to count up all the chips to see who covered whom. It took a good three minutes before he announced that Gavin held Kd-5c.

To summarize:

Marc: 4s-7h
Gavin: Kd-5c
Flop: 2s-3c-4d

With two cards left to come, Gavin had 14 outs twice. Any ace, any six, any king, or any five would give Gavin the lead. For the moment, it was basically a coinflip.

The turn was a three of hearts. It changed nothing except the number of chances Gavin had left to hit one of his fourteen outs.

The river was the king.

Gavin Griffin had won it all.

***

To be sure, it takes intellect to play heads up poker. That said, I think it takes more balls than it does brains. That's one of the reasons I'm such a bad heads up player. I have no balls. I know for a fact, I could not have made either of the moves those players did on the flop. The only way I can make those moves is if the money truly doesn't matter. I'm fair--at best--at detaching myself from the money aspect when making moves, but I think if there were that much on the line, I'd be one boring and ineffective heads-up player.

Frankly, it has me questioning whether I ever stand to be good at this game. I've faced a lot more questions than answers recently. Watching that hand play out made me question even more.

Regardless, it was fairly exhilarating to watch. I've played against Gavin online and I've watched Marc play quite a bit live. There's no doubt in my mind, they were not thinking about the money.

I'm curious as to what you think. We all talk a really big game. We all talk about how we could make moves and not think about the money. However, with a million bucks difference at stake, could you push with a low top pair and no kicker. Could you raise for half your stack with what you believed was no more than 8 to 11 outs twice?

The first two hours

I'll make this brief. I played about one hand each half hour level. My best hand was A8s and pocket 2s. I stole the blinds twice, won one hand that was checked down to the river and won another when I bet with 86o from the button at a ragged flop after it was checked to me. That was it.

Finding some chips

I felt good that I was on the opposite end of the table from Gavin. I was in the 9s and Gavin was in the 4s. Unfortunately, I was also on the left of Brandon. I didn't want to be in the position of him coming after me. Thankfully, we rarely tangled, and when we finally did, I ended his night.

The cards didn't turn for me at this point, but my chip position did. With an M of just 5, and blinds at 300/600, Falstaff came in for a raise to 1500. I looked down at pocket 3s, a monster the way my cards had come, and I pushed. Falstaff considered it for a bit, but eventually laid down what he told me was JTs. It wasn't a huge hand, but it gave me some breathing room.

It was just a few hands later that Brandon pushed into me. He had been crippled a few hands earlier and didn't have much left. I looked down at Ace-rag and called. Brandon needed some help that didn't come and I knocked out my first pro.

F$#%in' Blinds!

I don't know what happened, but suddenly we were four handed (on the bubble) and none of us seemed to be in great shape. In fact, all someone had to do to get from worst to first was double up.

I got myself severly short-stacked when my Ace-rag failed to hold up against Falstaff's KQ. He flopped two pair and there was no miracle for me.

Joe Speaker had already stolen my blinds a couple times and I told him all I needed was a face card to call him. He tried one more time and I looked down at K7o. My timing was perfect because Speaker only had K4o and I doubled up into the chip lead.

If you hadn't noticed, I still haven't mentioned a premium hand. This deep into the tourney, my best pair was 5s and my best Ace was A9. I couldn't find a hand to save my life. Frankly, I didn't know how I was still alive.

The deal turns

Better late than never, right? In fact, my beer-bitch, Bad Blood, told me that it was better to get big hands late than early. He couldn't have been more right.

Speaker found himself short-stacked when he pushed from the button. Sitting in the SB, I told the dealer that this would be a good time for my first premium hand. I squeezed an Ace fully expecting to squeeze something like a 4, after all, that's what I had seen all night. Instead, it was another Ace.

I called and tried to goad Gavin into getting involved as well. He thought about it for awhile before folding his pocket 6s face up. Kent had a hand that can crack Aces, but his JTs failed to improve anymore than the Jack on the flop. We were three-handed and I was the chip leader.

Sending the Canadian packing

To this point, I had hardly played a hand with Gavin. One time, he called my pre-flop raise with 32s and we checked it down to the river where my A8s won unimproved. Beyond that, he generally folded to my raises. I was clearly the tightest player at the table, by a long shot, and my raises got respect.

Three-handed, however, I was getting involved a lot more. Gavin pushed from the button, Falstaff folded, and I looked down at my second-biggest pair of the night: pocket 5s again. With Gavin's wide range (and when I say wide, we're talking Grand Canyon-wide), I could hardly lay down a pair.

I called and the best Gavin could do was hit a 4 on the river. He didn't show his other card, so I can only assume it was a big card, like an Ace or a King, or maybe he was playing suited connectors with a 5 or a 6. Either way, Gavin was out and Falstaff and I were heads up.

Who's The Luckbox?

Once we got heads up, I quickly became worried that my reputation was in trouble. Falstaff had already seen his fair share of fortunate hands. With a 3-to-1 chip advantage, I hoped it was enough to hold him off.

After jousting a few hands, we got all in preflop. I held Speaker's favorite hand, AJs. AJ is gold, after all, right? Falstaff was in trouble, holding just A3. Except for one thing. I was ahead. And that's usually not a good thing. When a 3 fell on the river, I was suddenly in deep trouble.

A few hands later, I looked down at my best hand of the night. It was only the second premium hand I'd seen. It was.... THE HAMMER.

Falstaff remembers him pushing, but I'm pretty sure I pushed and he insta-called. He was holding K7o, which we all know is no match for a hand as good as The Hammer. When the inevitable deuce fell on the river, I was back on top!

Two or three hands later, Falstaff decided to make a stand with 9To. I figured pocket Aces was a good enough hand to call with. By the river, Falstaff needed a non-diamond Jack to suckout. Instead, I completed my nut flush and it was all over.

Shock

I'm still not sure how I made it. Thankfully the structure was forgiving enough for me to play tighter than a 19-year old virgin with legs that go for miles... oh... where was I? And Gavin's constant taunts of "douchebag" did little to throw me off my game.

In the end, the tourney raised a whopping $12,000 for charity. It was a blast, and I can't wait to do it again!

I leave you with a picture of the lovely Lacey, the Bash's best bartender (yeah, her T-shirt says "Spin the Bottle Champ"):

And some pictures that are NOT gambling in a bar and a picture of our Beer Pong runners-up:

***

Absinthe would later write that no one should listen to me after one in the morning. Apparently, I am incapable of rational thought after Vegas' version of the 13:00 hours. That night, the same night Phil Hellmuth won his tenth bracelet, my friends had no such warning. They'd mistakenly hopped on the Otis Tilt-a-Whirl and were on the ride for the duration.

Our ride took us from the now infamous confines of the Tilted Kilt, to the side of the poker table as Phil Hellmuth celebrated his tenth bracelet, to the Ultimate Bet hospitality suite, to a taxi cab where the driver told actual fish stories and tried to convince the lot of us that Treasures strip club had the best steak house in all of Vegas.

Ultimately, we landed in front of Binions and in another world. We stood in front of the place that made the World Series of Poker famous. It was where Hunter Thompson, Al Alverez, Tony Holden, and Jim McManus had found the inspiration for each of their most famous books. Nearly every poker legend that we knew had made their bones inside the rundown building. As recently as one year before, Binion's still played host to the biggest event in all of poker--and, arguably, the richest event in all of sports or gaming.

Now, it was 1:58am and I had more name recognition than most people within stumbling distance. I would learn this half an hour later when the dealer looked up at me and said, "You're Otis" and the guy in the one seat said, "Holy shit, you are Otis." A world where I get recognized is not a world that God created.

If it hadn't been for the complete vacuum enveloping all of Fremont Street, my footsteps would've echoed. It was not a cavern of despair. For despair to exist, it would require someone actually caring. Instead, it was simply a black hole for things forgotten.

***

Everybody knows the little shop I'm talking about. It's the place you go when every bar and every gift shop in Binion's has closed down for the night. It's the first corner store you see when you breach Binion's air conditioning and step into the superheated Vegas air. If it weren't for the completely depressing nature of such a store in the tourism capital of the southwest, it might be considered a beacon of hope. Instead, it was the only place I was going to find sustenance for Wheaton.

I jogged through the door and then sprinted past the zombie behind the counter. He mumbled something about "brains," and I thought, "None here, sir." With time being of the essence and all (the tournament was now starting in less than one minute), I let marketing decide how to best feed Wheaton's beast.

"Snickers satisfies," I thought. I was a zombie for a good marketing campaign. I grabbed one candy bar, then decided I couldn't be sure that Wheaton wasn't on the verge of real meltdown.

"Three oughta do it," I said to myself. I threw some money at the zombie and ran for the door.

As I reached escape velocity, I spotted a giant bin of cheap sunglasses.

"Yes," I thought, my 2:00am trance kicking in something fierce. Poker players wear sunglasses. I should wear them for the tournament.

Another voice, this one near my medulla oblongata (incidentally, I think the zombie was eying that particular cut of my noodle), spoke to reason. "You don't have time to buy sunglasses. The tournament is starting in thirty seconds."

I'm not sure where the third voice came from, but it was emphatic as Wheaton was when he said he needed food.

"Steal them," it said.

I've never been a thief. Outside of a few poker blinds and a piece of gum from a corner store when I was a kid, I've always shied away from a life of theft. Still, it made so much sense. The bin of shades sat right by the door. I was already nearly sprinting. No one would catch me. What's more, I would be the envy of every 2:00am tournament player. The 22-year-old recovering alcoholic on my right would ask to borrow them. James Souza (onetime WSOP final tablist turned Binion's $110 tournament regular) would forget that I sucked out on him and compliment me on my ability to turn downtown Las Vegas fashion on its ear. The waitress who learned to bring me a drink every time she came by would ask me what I was doing when she got off at 6:00am.

In short, I needed the glasses and I was willing to resort to a life of crime to get them. Indeed, I would steal the sunglasses.

Just as my brain forced my hand toward the overflowing bin, my eyes fell on a hand-printed sign hanging on the display.

It read: DON'T STEAL.

The world stopped. Wheatons' Snickers began to melt in my hot hand. Suddenly, the tournament and making it to the table on time meant nothing.

Don't steal?

The zombies were one step ahead of me and that meant they had more brains than I did.

***

Everything beyond that moment is a matter of poker. It was a practice in crapshoot action, late night hijinx, and short-stack strategy at the final table. It was Souza saying (after I sucked out on him), "I didn't realize you'd been drinking." It was the young alcoholic asking me to move over because I "smelled like beer." It was Wheaton, Absinthe, and Spaceman sweating me at the final table and imploring me to bubble.

It was, in short, fun.

Still, as we sat down in the cab and settled up on the last longer, there was no escaping the fact that we were likely leaving a casino that won't exist in the near future. Like an old man who has outlived every member of his family, there was no one left to care whether Binion's lives or dies. We young travelers were hoping to find some breath of the excitement Binion's used to symbolize. We were left with the smell of cigarette-burned carpets and the sound of doors that closed before we even got there. While there was universal uneasiness about the way Harrah's was now running the World Series of Poker, there was no questioning that poker had outgrown its home and that Thomas Wolfe was probably right.

Still, Wheaton's belly was sated and I had somehow escaped transformation into a thief or a zombie's dinner. We had set out looking for adventure and we had found it. Like they say, it's not really about where you're going, but how you get there.

We left downtown Las Vegas as the sun rose over Vegas. The zombies would go back to their holes and we would go to bed knowing that, even if no one else cared, we had sat with Binion's as it slipped a little closer toward irrelevance and its ultimate demise. We were a hotel's hospice and it whispered to us as it drifted away.

I just had to get my poker fix before I come to join you in Vegas. I was playing the single table tournaments. The first tourney ended up with me and Cindy heads up. We were rather friendly and we got to talking about our favorite hands in poker. While we played, I told her the story of my first exposure to the Hammer (under the tutelage of CJ).

When Cindy wanted to know if I continued to play the Hammer, I answered with a laugh and said, "Ah, not really--all the players at my regular game have read the blog--I only play it when I am on the button now."

Cindy and I went on to chop first and second for a nice $470 each. We soon met on another table that morning. I landed the prized button. I did not look at my cards until the action was on me. I had to suppress a smile when the peek revealed 72o. There were two limpers ahead of me when I called as did the blinds.

The flop came 3A9, rainbow. Both players checked to me. I immediately raised to $400. Both blinds folded, followed by the first limper in early position. He threw down his cards disguised and threw me "the Look." The last limper folded and I took down the pot.

Just before stacking my chips, I flipped over the Hammer for all to see. This caused the early limper to exclaim, "You did not play that!" And began to boil at having laid down the best hand to the Hammer. I laughed and told him, "Now, we've broken the ice at this table." Cindy began to laugh and recanted my first exposure to the Hammer to the other players.

Jena arrives in Vegas tomorrow. We'll see how many Hammers she drops this week!