No dice

Well, it looks like I am going to Vegas this year after all. I'd been pretty apathetic about it for the past few weeks, but I've won my seat now so that's that. Let's hope it's third time lucky.

Frankly, the prospect of cramming into the Rio surrounded by 6600 hometown heroes still fills me with dread. It was never like this in the good old days (i.e. 2003). Back then you felt you'd really done something to get to the WSOP. Now every lowlife from Porvoo to Pasadena has finegled their way in. They'll be very alright.

Still, these boys Victor Chandler really know their onions. Check out www.victorchandler.com/coupon_outright.jsp?&eid=59058100&eid=&ot=100 . I'm a very reasonable 125/1 to make the final, a shorter price than 6 former world champions, and one Neil Channing. Can't argue with that.

For those of my chums also going to Vegas, I can't wait to see you out there. We''ll knock back some White Russians, go bowling in the Orleans, and generally just kick back and glory in the heady social funfest that is the WSOP. I've always hated it for the poker, but loved it for the company. But please, let's not play any dice. I can't take the pain any more. Last year I was struggling in the WSOP so I spent the ENTIRE dinner break not eating dinner, not hanging around taking solace from my cronies, but playing dice ON MY OWN in the Horseshoe. Solitary dice is the choice of the true sicko. Obviously the inevitable happened, as I spent the first hour doing my nuts and then, just as the event restarted, I got on a roll. I now had a choice to make between getting my money back on the bones or defending my blinds in that silly tournament thing. Bit of a no-brainer. Twenty minutes later I finally struggled back to my seat feeling the relief of a man spared by the dice gods. Within another twenty I was out.

Not this time. Not this year, goddammit. This year the lure of the hardways and the high horn won't distract me from the task in hand. This year I'll just ignore the boys when they suggest a jolly old dicecapade. Perhaps I'll take some Sartre or Proust and examine the philosophical implications of the come bet whilst they donate to the construction of more Nevadan funhouses. Or maybe I'll just go swimming or sightseeing or take in a show. Or maybe I'll just stand and watch, taking in the ambience without the need for financial risk.

Or maybe I'll cut off my own testicles with a rusty scythe. The likelihood is about the same.