The only real issue is I have is coming home from work on a Friday or Saturday evening when the Hip-Hop hotel lobby and casino look more like the lineup for one of the monosyllabic nightclubs. Pushing through the crowd headed to Rain or Moon to get to the elevators can be a drag, and I do get kind of testy. (I'm working here people.)
But other than that it's OK. More eye candy here than Circus-Circus I'm sure.
The weather has been fantastic as well. Sometimes it even dips a few degrees under 100, which suits me just fine.
However, there are a few things I find annoying about the entire experience. I've given this a lot of thought and the truth is, they all center around the dead money!
I know many a professional poker career and for that matter, practically the entire game, has been built on dead money, but I still have to say, listening to these folks is getting a tad tiresome.
You see hundreds of them everyday at the Rio. The lucky ones may pull off a bluff against some pro and be immortalized in a PokerListings live update.
Unfortunately, in his or her 15 minutes of fame, he or she is only referred to as UTG, BB or sometimes just Player. (And I don't mean playa, this is the Rio not the Palms ... keep up kids!)
Still, it is the unlucky and unskilled ones that are the worst. Inevitably they bust out of every event and take the walk of shame through the convention center and into the Las Vegas heat. Almost always they do so with cellphone attached to side of head, explaining to the buddy back in Des Moines or Lincoln or wherever, how they busted out.
If I had a dollar for every conversation I've overheard that began with something akin to "So I had King-Queen," or "So I re-raised with pocket sixes," I'd be a rich man. Instead I'm just an angry one for having to walk up and down that hallway all day and hear them whine.
Most of these conversation will end up featuring the word "donkey" several times as well. Either they were called a donkey for getting their money in so bad, or the guy stacking their chips is some kind of donkey. Either way it's all about donkeys with the dead money.
Perhaps if they spent some time coming up with an original way to insult other players, instead of just repeating some thing they heard Mike Matusow say on TV, that kind of creativity would spill into their game. Instead of busting out all the time in the first few hours on Day 1, they might make the money.
The thing is, these morons are not just limited to the WSOP - the dead money walk the streets all over this town.
I've headed down to the strip on a few occasions to relieve a few of these dead money characters of their cash.
You can always find one sitting at a slot machine, flipping his mullet from side to side as he sips on a frozen margarita in a two and half foot long plastic cup explaining to his overweight fanny pack wearing wife how that bonus he's never going to hit works.
A lot of them have cellphones attached to their heads as well. Like the one I heard the other day explaining to his buddy back home that, while out drinking 17 beers, his other friend dared him to get a tattoo.
"I said fine, I'll do it as long as I get to pick it out," he said. Nice pal, you scarred yourself for life in a drunken haze, but at least you got to pick it out. Plus, isn't it great that your friends now know you'd jump off the Golden Gate Bridge if they dared you.
I will say this though, the one thing I don't mind is the fact you can find one playing just about every hand they get hold of in a Limit Hold'em game or others calling big bets in a No-limit game with second or third pair.
They may suck out the odd time, but always go broke before the night is through. Here, I like the dead money, I just wish they would pipe down a little - friggin' donkeys!