I am currently blogging my experience from the 2006 WSOP Main Event as an example of how I think some of our Event satellite winners should do.

I arrived late to the Welcoming Party but I was determined that I would catch up. Walking in, the Barrel Room was dead. I’m not sure how many players attended earlier, but there were only 12-15 people in the room when I got there. I found the H.M.F.W.I.C. from 888.com. Nice guy. He showed me the open bar (1 double Wild Turkey on the rocks, please) and directed me to go check in and get my Seating Assignment. I took my drink down with me and this was done with no hold ups. Table 130, Seat 7, Day 1C. So I have 2 days off before my WSOP even starts.

Back to the party in the Barrel Room I go. Now it’s down to 8 people left. I get another drink and strike up a conversation with a couple of the people from 888.com. We talk about the normal pleasantries and a couple, a few, whatever of drinks later, one of them mentions that Chris “Jesus” Ferguson is sitting with friends in the Wine Cellar which is the bar where the Barrel Room is located. Fine. Time to go see Jesus.

Chris is kicked back having a drink with friends and he definitely knows that in this atmosphere, he’s an icon. Must be nice. A few other people are getting their picture taken with him. Not me. What the heck am I going to do with a picture of me and Chris Ferguson? I simply shake his hand, wish him luck, and tell him that I’ll see him at the tables.

Back to the Barrel Room for a refill. Oh no, the bar is about to close? Make that 2 double Wild Turkeys on the rocks, then. Man, I gotta buzz going. I better slow down a little. What? Sure I want to go to the bar upstairs. You betcha. The Rio is really rockin’ now. How far is this damn bar? I’m needing another drink. Finally. Yes, I’ll take one. Can the music be any louder?? I feel old. This is not my kind of scene. Yes, I’ll have another. Thank you. 15-20 years ago, this would have been a good bar to come to. Some good looking mamma-jammas up in here. OK, I’ll take one more. Then I have to go.

OK, I have to go. NOW. Where’s an exit? Here we go. Wait. This is not the front exit. Where the hell am I? Where’s a taxi when you need one? I know I look like every drunk guy you’ve ever seen on COPS. Just let me find a taxi and I’ll be OK. What’s around this corner? Yahoo, it’s the Gold Coast. I know I can get a taxi there. For being just across the street, it sure is a long way. Lord, I didn’t mean to get this drunk. If you let me make it all the way over there to the Gold Coast, I promise I won’t ever drink this much again. Finally. Can you call me a cab? Thank you. Did I thank this guy? I better thank him again just in case. Thank you. Oh, that’s my cab? Thank you. Orleans, please. Thank you.

Thank God I don’t play tomorrow. Thank zzzzzzzzzzzz’.