Tonight I leave for Vegas for the World Series of Poker.  It’s a big day—as you’re likely aware, in June Las Vegas becomes the undisputed poker capital of the world, with many massive tournaments taking place every day.  Spending the month in Vegas creates a big window of opportunity for guys like me.  While most poker players view departing to play the WSOP as one of the highlights of their year, for me it is a day that brings hope but also sadness and trepidation.

At this stage of my life, I’m happiest at home in Carroll Gardens.  I love being here with my trusty confidantes Janeen and Ruthie, both of whom I will miss dearly for the next month.  My yearly WSOP trip differs from all the others in both distance and length.  I’ll be far away, outside of my comfort zone for quite awhile.  The sudden mid-meet drives home that I’m notorious for will be impossible from the Mojave.

The WSOP presents numerous challenges beyond the obvious fiscal risk.  I know from past experience that a long dry spell will result in a potentially consuming emotional upheaval. Although I’m logically aware that bad runs are inevitable, I’m wired to compete.  I put undue pressure on myself and still don’t handle failure too well.   I’m therefore going to try my best not to let the daily ups and down get the best of me in the absence of my support system.

Speaking of my support system, another serious issue with spending a month in Las Vegas is avoiding social isolation.  I find that playing tournaments out there for a month straight can be very lonely.  I’m lucky to have a great friend who lives in Vegas and a couple of true friends on tour.  Outside of that handful of people, I’ll have no one to rely on.  Don’t bother feeling bad for me though; it’s a personal choice.  I’ve discovered that being alone is better than hanging out with idiots.  There’s nothing worse than spending an entire evening listening to people you have nothing in common with flap their gums.  If you’re not careful it happens a lot in my line of work.

Through trial and error I’ve found a decent salve for lonliness in Vegas.  The following methods help:

-Always maintain contact with Janeen and the real world.  Watch the news, watch Sportscenter.  Read books, listen to the radio.  Hang out with Jon and other non-poker players.

-Rent a car.  It’s important to be able to go where I want when I want.

-Schedule activities.  Never reduce the trip to eat/sleep/poker.  I’m gonna go bowling a lot.

-Don’t tag along for group activities you know you won’t enjoy or hang with people who annoy you.  It’s a recipe for hating life.  Avoid known douchebags.   They’re so not worth it.

-Have fun when playing; don’t be a bitter dickhead at the table.

Although “jaded and cynical” comes naturally to me, I still appreciate what the WSOP is really about.  This is an event that started many years ago as a get-together for the country’s best gamblers.  Today, of course, it has been bastardized and commercialized nearly beyond recognition.  Despite its modest origins, everything about the WSOP—from the brand of playing cards used, drinks served, even the time of year it takes place—is now controlled by corporate interests.  However, when you boil it down, the WSOP remains singular in its scope and prestige.  It is Mecca to the few thousand or so poker players (along with the requisite horse stakers, shot takers, funk fakers, etc. etc.) who can honestly call themselves the world’s best.  As I have a reasonable expectation of leaving Vegas at the end with more money than I came with, I’m proud to say that I am included in that group.

And now for some good news for those of you who read this website regularly:  I will be blogging much more frequently from Vegas this year.  I’m shooting for more of a diary-style blog this June and will likely update a few times per week.  I’m hoping my perspective is a fresh one and will be worth a read.  I also think it will keep me mentally sharp.

I will also be continuously tweeting my tourney progress at twitter.com/SugDpoker.

Since so much of what I’ve written recently is fairly negative, I think I will throw a curveball today. I’ve neglected to mention some of my recent success.

I’ve “outright shipped” (i.e., won) three tournaments in the last month and a half. In the grand scheme of things, each of these tournaments was about as small as a pro poker tournament can be without being irrelevant. However, outright wins are quite difficult to come by, so I will provide a brief recap.

The first was a $500 Bounty Event at Mohegan Sun with just over 100 entrants. I picked up aces on the money bubble and never looked back. The final four players negotiated a save and then we played it out.  In the end it was me who had his picture snapped behind a pile of chips and a trophy.

The second was a $26 tournament on Full Tilt with over 1000 players. This was about as clean a run as one can have; I was the chip leader with around 150 player left, with 15 players left, and with 1 player left. Easy game.

The third tournament took place just a few days ago, a $300 tournament with only 98 entrants at Harrah’s in AC. I’m particularly pleased with this win because I pulled off one of tournament poker’s more badass feats: repeatedly refusing a deal despite being a chip count disadvantage, then systematically dispatching my opponents. (At one point, we were actually on the verge of creating a save, but one player scoffed when I explained that I’d need his name, address and social security number to deal, so we played on).

Some tourney grinders play for the money. Some play for the fame (and will literally buy Player of the Year points from you if you’re lucky enough to chop with them). Me, I play for the doofy “winner’s circle” pics.

Next stop is Vegas.

My good ol’ friend Matt C. and I love to give each other the business. For the past twenty years, we have taken it upon ourselves to keep each other in check. If one of us ever gets a little too big for his britches, the other comes along with a good-natured smack in the head, returning the recipient to cold reality and taking him down a peg. It sounds more ruthless than it really is. We’re both capable of laughing at ourselves and as well as each other.

Today I’m happy to report that Matt and his lovely girlfriend Alfia were recently engaged to be married. This news—in and of itself—opens a veritable treasure trove of Matt-ripping material for me to enjoy. You see, the formerly perennially single Matt has always availed himself of a line of humor that pokes fun at the duties and responsibilities foisted upon me by my commitment to Janeen (“Who are you texting?!?”). It would therefore suffice if I were now merely able to return the favor with similar jokes. But something much greater and more abundantly humorous has arrived. Something irresistible and packed with delicious, oozing irony has been bestowed to me. No, it is not a twelve pack of Hostess Fruit Pies. It’s better.

One of Matt’s favorite topics throughout our little twenty-year war is my mother. I was reared by an energetic and protective woman. Some might say I was coddled. My mother remains interested and involved in my life to this day. Matt certainly capitalizes on this fact with his humorous imitations of my mother’s thick New York accent and constant reminders of our shared adolescence filled with strange admonitions from my Mom (“David can throw up in the basement, but I expect better from you, Matt.”)

One of Matt’s other repeat topics is my alleged materialism. When I proceeded directly from law school into a high-paying job and an upper east side mini bachelor pad, Matt began giving me the business about it, and continued every time I purchased anything he perceived to be a newfangled luxury item. Most famously (and I’m aging us here), he used to give me a very hard time for owning…. (gasp!) a cellular phone. Matt’s preference in consumerism is for the quirky and offbeat (including some hilarious flops like those god-awful Crocs), so anytime I came up with anything he deigned expensive and/or mainstream, he gave me holy hell about it.

Another of Matt’s go-tos is this blog’s existence, and the act of blogging in general. The salt-of-the earth Matt loves to laugh at how pretentious I’ve become. I have the gall to presume that my professional gambling somehow transforms my daily life into something noteworthy to others. Matt has an oft-repeated two-word summation for this sentiment: “Dear Blogisphere!” End of story.

As you can see, I have taken a beating for many years from Matt for a) my mother’s ubiquity; b) being in a committed relationship; c) occasionally enjoying fancy things; and d) blogging.

So without further ado, I am now thrilled to present to you Matt’s future mother-in-law’s handiwork:

REALLY? I’M MOTHER OF THE BRIDE?

I’ve had some trouble conjuring anything to write here. The problem is that there’s no underlying theme to draw from; my thoughts have been all over the map lately. This has been reflected in the way I’ve spent my time.

One day I grind my ass off, the next I’m crafting an outline for a yet-to-be-written book. One day I’m up at the crack of dawn, driving down to AC determined to dominate, the next I lay in bed all day reading. One day I gorge on MTT training videos in an effort to cure my maddening futility in online tourneys, the next day I’m pondering some business opportunities and thinking my old life as a suit wasn’t really that bad.

For those keeping score, my bottom line this year is about break even. I’ve had success in fits and starts—I won a small tournament at Mohegan Sun and came fourth in a big $500 event at Borgata (neither of which got any play on this blog), so it’s not all doom and gloom—but I’m used to having more success than this. The upcoming summer-long WSOP is likely not only to have a disproportionate impact on my 2010 income, it may also shape my future in a larger sense. My summertime plans were just solidified. I leave on Memorial Day.

The last time I was having the proverbial “bad year” at the start of the WSOP, I ended up hitting for what remains to this day my biggest score, so perhaps history will repeat itself. But perhaps it won’t, which would be okay too.

In the immediate future I’ll probably tune up for the WSOP with a couple of Foxwoods and Harrah’s events. And I’ll probably continue to get drubbed online, I’m a glutton like that.