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#602 – World Series Final Table #15 – Late Night at the Final Table
I don’t know; was I too tough on that guy groaning out cheers for Dennis Phillips? I mean, what if the guy was Dennis’s father or something. On the other hand, it’s more likely he’s Dennis’s 300th best friend. (If he was Dennis Phillips’s dad, I think some of that $900k would have gone for orthadontia.) I don’t know if I’d want to get tagged with the behavior of my 300th best friend. Who is my 300th best friend?
Gasp – it’s probably YOU.
Everybody and everything gets weird after 13 hours of poker. I remember in 2005, the last year the final table was played at Binions, at 3 AM I was desperate to find something to eat. (That part of the scene was replayed at the Rio at about 11 PM. The restaurant that advertises “late night dining” closes at 10 PM, obviously targeting the evangelical gamblers.)
I went to this tiny newsstand at Binions about the size of your armpit but not as stylish. There, I bought a couple candy bars so shopworn that Benny Binion probably removed them from the crate himself.
The only cool thing about this newsstand was this hot French give who told me her name was A.J. I thought she was approvingly appraising me, though in all likelihood she was eyeing my media pass, there still being a long line to get access to the tournament area.
She batted her eyes and said something like, “I’d do anything to get in to see the final table.”
So I put my arm around her and walked past the security guard at the entrance. Or I tried to. A.J. wasn’t getting in without a pass.
Mike Laing had a pass but was standing outside, holding court with a number of other locals. Look up Mike Laing if you don’t know the name. Talented tournament player. Frequently broke. Drinks a lot – or used to. Weird stuff routinely happens to him. He was a great character in SUICIDE KING.
Mike sized up the situation and suggested that he and I walk in, he hand me his pass, and I bring it out and give it to A.J. We shared the plan with A.J. and she waited as Laing and I walked inside.
Then Mike changed up the play. He sat down next to a friend, then yanked the pass from that guy’s neck. For the record, he asked, “Mind if I borrow this?” but I think he did it after he took possession.
We brought the pass to A.J. who joined us inside the tournament room. After a minute or so, I decided I had to share this story with someone. I found my friend Amy Calistri and, giddy, recited the tale.
“So, did Mike and A.J. hit it off?” Amy asked.
I didn’t know, so I ran back to where they were sitting. But they were gone.
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