Thought I'd give you the low down on my brief stop in the land of sin and unfeasibly hot sun, Las Vegas. Overall it was everything I had hoped, although I didn't really enjoy being on my own there (as I was for the second day) ... didn't like being knocked out of a tournament and not having anyone to rant to in the adrenaline-fuelled, poker-obsessed mind-frame you're in at that point. Am glad Dave and Nick will be there for such purposes come November.

First thing to say is that Vegas in the summer is damn hot. It is even more damn hot when the South-West US is experiencing a heat-wave. As we drove into town and performed the ultra-stressful manoeuvre of trying to find first the hotel, and then the right place within the cavernous hotel car park, the temperature outside apparently reached 122 Fahrenheit. I didn't believe this at the time but on exiting the car, well, maybe it wasn't that hot, but jesus christ it was hot. At one stage of the second day I decided to walk up the strip to a casino. By the time i had slogged my sweaty way there I was exhausted, i felt like i'd lost about half my body-weight and I came very close to fainting in the cool of the air conditioning. Basically I had to immediately take the monorail back to my room and lie down. After I got up I looked on a map to see how far I'd walked, expecting maybe 2 miles. It was about 1/2 a mile. So, yeah, it was hot.

The first day I was there with non-poker-playing, non-gambling friends (I do have some of these, honest). As a result I didn't hit-up the tables straight away and instead we saw the cultural side of Vegas. This meant we walked to the 8th wonder of the modern world, the canal on the second floor in the Venetian. It was absolutely brilliant; tacky, stupid, pointless, ludicrously expensive, everything you could want from the town. At one point we passed an oxygen bar, where people sat around breathing different 'flavours' of oxygen whilst someone gave them a massage; that's a pretty good measure of what kind of place it is. After that we went to the Bellagio gallery of fine art and saw an exhibition of photography (Ansel Adams, if that means anything to anyone), I expected it to be deserted, but there were actually quite a few people there. I guess when you've lost all your money you have to do something.

That out of the way though, it was time to do some gambling. As I've said my friends are not used to such things, and my efforts to persuade them to grab $100 of chips each and hit the $5 blackjack tables did not go well. Instead they seemed inexplicably excited by the prospect of playing some genuine one-armed bandits. Luckily the place where we were staying (the Imperial Palace) was designed for the low-roller crowd, and there was an abundance of 1 cent, 5 cent and 25 cent machines. I started off being very aloof, refusing to lower myself to such braindead persuits, but I changed my mind when I saw that even at the 5 cent machines people gave you free drinks. Brilliant! We quickly resolved to get as drunk as possible whilst losing the least amount. It was all going well, I had managed to go a whole beer whilst never pulling the lever and the waitress didn't even notice. That's right, in your face Imperial Palace! Then, my friend Maz amazingly enough managed to hit some kind of jackpot. Now, don't get too excited. It wasn't the top prize and this was a 5 cent machine, but still it dinged up to an improbable $125, not bad. Upsettingly you just got a printed bit of paper that you stuck into another machine instead of an exciting cascade of coins, but still, a win's a win.

At this point I was ever so slightly drunk, and I remembered that at the start of the holiday my friend's gran, a very nice old woman who knows an unbelievable amount about american football, had given me $10 and told me to gamble it for her when we got to Vegas. Well, here I was, and I decided that she deserved a proper gamble for her money, so I left the machines and decided to do the honourable thing and place the lot on one hand of Blackjack (plus another $10 of my own to keep it real). I wandered about the casino for a bit, picking my spot, and finally approached a deserted table. I plonked the $20 down and to make the whole thing more exciting told the dealer this was the last money I had and that I intended to win big. Sadly the dealer didn't enter into the spirit of things and instead of dealing me a winner silently signalled for some woman, who i assume was the pit boss, to come over. We then did the standard "Are you 21?", "Well I'm flattered, but also a tad annoyed given I'm 28" dance, and finally my grumpy, silent dealer began to deal.

I first realised something was up after he dealt my cards face down instead of face up, I looked at the little sign and tragically found I was playing "Lucky Queens" or something or other and not straight blackjack as I knew it. I told the dealer that I didn't know the rules of this thing, and that he needed to help me win big. Continuing to be an arse he merely said that it was "like blackjack" and asked me if I wanted another card. Desperately trying to channel the spirit of Sklansky and work out the EV and perfect strategy of a game I didn't know the rules to, I looked at what I had been dealt. I was even doing this badly according to grumpo the dealer, who admonished me for bending the cards (i looked poker style out of habit). Apparently i had to lift them up without bending, and then gently stroke the felt if i needed to hit. It was some annoying situation like 15 against an 8, and I again tried to get the him to tell me exactly how this game that was "like blackjack" was unlike blackjack. He just said "do you want a card"? Sensing this thing was about to end badly for me and my mate's gran i stroked the felt, he dumped a 9 down there, and that was that. About the most soul-emptying way I've gambled money down a drain.

(Side note: More trips to vegas and I now know what was going on here, but am still slightly upset the dealer made no effort to explain it to me)

After this example of bad gambling, I decided it was time to do some good gambling. For some reason my drink addled brain decided that the best gambling would be those 'penny falls' machines, where you feed in the coins at the top and hope they provoke the vast piles of cash to fall out the bottom. I was able to persuade two friends that this was a fantastic plan, and we set off. Given its gaudy, old-skool exterior and all-round low-roller-ness I decided that the Barbary Coast would definately have these machines. Amazingly enough, after scouring the interior, all I found in there were acres of slots and various table games. Undeterred I flagged down a passing employee, and dissmissing the voice in the back of my head that told me I was about to look like an idiot, I asked her where the machines were. Brilliantly, instead of dismissing me as a annoyance and telling me to piss off back to Blackpool, her eyes lit up at my garbled description of the game, and she nodded enthusiastically that she did know what I was talking about. Sadly, however, I didn't get directed to them, but a short speech on the sadness of Vegas switching to machines that don't take actual coins (but the little slips of paper mentioned earlier) so such games were largely a thing of the past. She did offer some hope, apparently Arcades in the larger casinos still house machines taking coins, and they might have one. Excitedly we set off back to the Belagio where we had passed an Arcade earlier.

But again hopes were smashed, the Arcade was shut and my friends were flagging. They had to be up at 8:30am the next day for a flight, and I had just dragged them aimlessly around with no alcohol or gambling for about 45 minutes. They bade me good night, and I decided that slightly drunk and very tired at 1:30am was the perfect time to start my Vegas poker career. First I checked out the Belagio poker room but it looked crowded and intimidating so I pushed on to Caesars Palace. This place looked far more friendly, so I told the good people behind the desk I wanted to play $1/$2 NL and they promised to shout me when there was a free seat. This didn't take long, and pretty soon I was sitting down. First off I noticed that I was now seated in between a boyfriend/girlfriend combination, which was slightly unusual in that it was the female who was clearly more experienced at poker. On about hand 3 the guy lost his entire stack with 3rd pair or some such rubbish, tried to get his woman to leave along with him, but when she decided to stay put went off in a huff.

At this point I hadn't had anything to drink for an hour or so, and I realised I was sobering up. Probably a good thing, but it did lead me to play my normal squeaky-tight cash game stylee, I even waited for the BB which I think (from the reaction of the dealer) is pretty much un-heard of. The now boyf-less woman next to me made some hilarious comment about me never playing anything after I folded something like the first 6 of my hands (yeah, I know 6!!), and I (like the comedy god I am) told the table I only play suited pocket aces. They did have the good grace to chuckle slightly at this unbelievable old joke. The woman left a few hands later and at this point some bloke a few seats down told me I should be flattered as I was the only person at the table she had spoken too apart from her beaux, and it then transpired that everyone had hated her. This was a little weird as she seemed perfectly civil to me, but Vegas is a harsh town I guess.

I continued to get sod-all, and then some young dude sat down and started telling us pretty soon his mate would join us, and that his mate was 'crazy'. I more-or-less switched off at this point, figuring him for another from the long line of mouthy people with a exagerated sense of their own importance, and when I heard the name Mike Matusow being bandied about in the description of his friend it only strengthened my impression. "Cock" pretty much summed it up. However, whilst the guy pretty much was a cock, his mate did deserve to be likened to Mike Matusow as he turned out to be Mike's brother. Am averagely certain this is true because:

1. He never mentioned it himself, only when his mouthy friend prompted him
2. He looked very much like him

So yeah, 2:30 am in Vegas playing poker with Mike Matusow's brother, how cool is that?

The game was pretty much the comically loose/passive low-limit game of legend. 7 to a flop, pre-flop raises once every blue-moon etc. I started limping all kinds of semi-useless hands, and finally got my first joy when I flopped a straight. Someone bet out, I called (trap, advanced), another caller, then this bloke wearing sunglasses who had a major stack (about $800 or so) raised. Original bettor folded, and I re-raised. Sunglasses man asked me if I had the nut straight, which concerned me slightly as I didn't, I had the apt "Idiot" straight. However I cunningly affected a confused look, peered at the board and said "What's a straight?!". Here I got him good as I feigned weakness so he thought I was strong, when I wasn't as strong as he would think I was! That's clever. Caro would be proud. He passed showing the same hand as me. I, obviously, nodded, said "Good fold" and took the money. I was in the game, baby.

Fast forward a little while and I picked up the cowboys. Nice. Kindly UTG raises to $10 and no less than 5 people call him before the action is on me. That'll do nicely I think, and launch about $80 into the middle thinking I'll pretty much end it there. The table goes a little crazy at this point, and Mike's brother opines loudly as he folds that I definitely have Kings or Aces. This did annoy me to some extent, but lets face it, it was fairly obvious. Or so you'd think, but not to a quiet dude in a baseball cap who had sat down maybe 2 hands previously. When it got to him he launched all-in and I, slightly fearing I'd run into the boots, chucked in the extra $50 or so. Baseball-boy silently, and without too much ceremony, turned over J8s. Nice hand. There was a jack on the flop, but no more help, and I won a cool $150 or so. Baseball boy immediately bought-in again, obviously feeling he had just set the table up for a serious beating.

I pretty much only played one more hand of note, this time against the mouthy bloke. He had been loudly criticising the play and players (some were too passive, I was too tight) and talking to another person at the table about the press WSOP event they had both been at earlier that day. Improbably it was folded to me in the CO and I had AK, I raised. He studied me from the SB, and called, the BB folded. I got the impression that he was probably calling me with a marginal hand as he thought I was tight and he could steal it from me. The flop was low and innocuous, and he bet out $20. I decided that this was the perfect time for the min re-raise bluff. He probably has relative shite here, believes everyone at the table to be useless, and idiots min-raising you normally have a hand. I carefully stacked up $40 and pushed it out there. He thought for a little while, but then folded. It then got fun as he said "AK, eh?", I said yes and he was disgusted by it. Apparently I played the hand like an idiot and I should have lost money. Happily this caused him to mostly shut up for the rest of the time I was there, he seemed to be genuinely sad about the whole thing :).

I eventually cashed out about 4am up $160, which wasn't bad. The casino was pretty much deserted as I made my way out apart from cleaners, and it was at this point that I discovered that those stories they tell you, about there being no exit signs, are entirely accurate. It, no joke, took me 20 mins to make my way outside. At one point I did find an exit that lead out to a dark, dingy looking carpark at the back of the building, but I decided that it wasn't the time to explore that with $1500 or so on me. Eventually I stumbled upon the right door, and made my way to bed.

The next day I was woken at 8:30 or so to say goodbye to my friends who were leaving. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't knowing the whole of Vegas was just outside, so after a shower I decided to have a look inside some more casinos. I walked up the strip and stopped off in each massive monument to excess that I passed. Despite the great differences in exteriors they all look kinda similar inside, even down to having the same fonts on the signs telling you where each type of gambling is. I checked out where the poker room was in each, observed some degenerates playing roulette, and got lost in the vast conference section of the Venetian (where I did discover some water fountains, which should definately be more readily available in that town). I got some breakfast from a Starbucks, which would have been nicer if I didn't have to eat it at an outside table (already unfeasibly hot) and I headed back down to the site of last night's triumph for the noon 70+10+50 tournament. Thats $70 buy-in, $10 fee and $50 optional add-on. Given you get 1,500 to start, but 3,000 for the add-on it's pretty much a $120+$10 freezeout with 4,500 to start.

There were a little over 100 people in the tournament, which made the first prize something nice like 5 grand. I took the add-on straight away, as did most of the people on the table. It was, for the most part, a serious tournament with everyone acting like they could play. Over the course of it I sat with quite a few folks who were going to be playing the main event, which was due to start the next day. That said there were still plenty of muppets about. One such was a bloke sat at my table who quickly established himself as a bit of a live-one. He doubled up early after calling somone's all-in on the turn with a pocket pair lower than any card on the board, "bye-bye you donkey" we all thought, but it wasn't to be as his two-outer hit on the river. Being a bit of a card, instead of shaking hands with the poor bloke he had just brutalised, he let out a yelp and clapped. Beautiful. He then limped about 60% of his hands, min-raised about 35% and reluctantly folded the really bad ones. A few rounds later he pissed away half his stack calling to the river with A2o against a painfully obvious higher Ace.

It was folded to me on the button and I raised AKo he min-raised from the big-blind (as previously stated a favourite move), a few folks folded and it was back to me. I figured this guy was stupid enough to call me pre-flop with all manner of uselessness I was crushing, so subtlety be damned I just moved all-in. He insta-called and slammed down the ducks. A race, but it was early on and I'll take that for a shedload of chips. I hit the Ace on the flop and that was that. Entertainingly I had again disgusted a table-mate with my play, some oldish bloke wearing sunglasses muttered to his neighbour about "internet players" and told me to "keep over playing AK", I assured him I would but he sadly didn't learn. An orbit or so later I again got AK and raised it in mid-position, only sunglasses man called from the button. The flop was a pleasing AKx no suits, I bet out and sunglasses man called. The turn was another A, this time I checked (again note the trickiness), but my opponent also checked. The river was insignificant, and this time I came out betting, sunglasses had however seen my soul and raised all-in with what we found out to be QJ and a stone-cold bluff, I called, obviously, and had to tell him I had again overplayed my AK, which for some reason did not seem to amuse him. Ahh well.

From that point on though I pretty much got nothing in the way of cards, however a decent stack and the odd blind steal kept me surviving. What was very annoying though was that everytime I worked my way up to be comfortable I got slapped back down by some shorter-stack mildly sucking out. KQs