Yesterday, my Dad and I woke up really early (7:00 a.m. is “really” early to any poker player) to go hike around Red Rock Canyon. My friend Dave Irish and a friend of his came along. The Canyon is about an hour away from the Strip, so by the time we got out the door, stocked up on bottled water, and made it to Red Rock, we were hiking by 9:00.

We drove around for a little while trying to figure out what trail we wanted to hike. The process got a little frustrating because we couldn’t find an “easy” trail (they’re rated easy, moderate, and difficult) that was in the ~2 mile range. After searching for a trail for a while, we decided to just try a “difficult” trail that was 2.5 miles long. We always figured if it proved to be really hard, we could just come back to the car and go search for an easier trail. Whoever makes the decisions on how to rate the trails must have a pretty skewed view of what is truly “difficult”, because none of us had much trouble on the trail at all despite no experience, equipment and mediocre physical fitness levels.

It was a really cool experience and something I hope to do a few more times this summer. Here’s a shot I took while we were hiking. The moon was positioned in between these two peaks. You can barely see it in the picture, but in real life it was quite the sight.

My Dad and I pressed on a little past the blazen path just for fun while Dave and his friend waited back and hydrated. We stumbled upon this old military gear box that was wedged in between two rocks. The chances of stumbling on this thing randomly are pretty low; we had to walk through a bunch of bushes that kind of cut up your arms and stuff. In other words, getting to where this box was located was not somewhere many, if any, hikers would be likely to do unless they were purposefully seeking it out. My Dad kind of thought that opening the box could be dangerous and that maybe we should just carry it down with us and return it to the park officials. I wanted to gamble a little and decided to open the box anyway. Here’s what I found inside:

Here’s a closer view of the note (an even closer view here).

Pretty cool, huh? I had never heard of geocaching prior to stumbling on this box, but I absolutely love the concept. The only thing either my Dad or I possessed that could really constitute as a “trinket” was a $5 casino chip from L’Auberge du Lac in Lake Charles, Louisiana that I had in my backpack, so I left that in the box and notated on the pad of paper the date that we found the box.

The whole geocaching thing seems pretty cool; when I’ve got the time, I might look into seeing if there are other boxes hidden around the Vegas valley. It gives a little more purpose to hiking than just a desire to exercise and be outdoors.

Later in the afternoon, I took my Dad to the Harley Davidson Cafe on the Vegas Strip (he’s really into motorcycles) where we ate a pretty huge meal. We walked off a lot of those calories in the following hours when I showed him around the Strip. We walked from Planet Hollywood north to Wynn on the east side of the Strip then crossed over to the west side and came back down to New York, New York where we rode the roller coaster they have.

All in all, it was a really enjoyable day where I estimate we walked probably about 8 miles. I just dropped my Dad off at the airport a little while ago. After I finish posting this entry, I’m going to head to the Rio where a summer of poker officially starts for me with the $1k event. More about that in the next entry.

I’m skipping the $1,500 event on Friday to spend time with my father in a city he’s never visited. On Saturday, barely an hour after his plane for home departs, cards will be in the air for the $1,000 tournament which will be the first of many events I plan to play this summer. With the exception of a weekend in New York to visit my girlfriend and clear my head of Vegas, desert heat, and the debilitating effects of spending most of one’s time around other males chasing a pot of gold at the end of the poker rainbow, I plan to spend time in one tournament or another during each day of this trip.

As I have for the past four years, I will be blogging live from the WSOP on PokerTips.org. I’ll be cross-posting those entries on this blog. Although this is my sixth year at the WSOP (wow, six years), this will be the first time I’ve spent the majority of the series in Vegas. That I’ll actually be living in Vegas rather than flying back and forth in a week-on, week-off fashion, has me anticipating this WSOP with unprecedented excitement.

It’s such a sick city like that because no matter what happens they’ve got you hooked and you’ll want to be coming back.

This trip was just disastrous in every way imaginable for me on the gambling front. I mean, we’re talking 99th percentile in terms of statistical “run bad”. I may never have a trip like this again from just a sheer “odds going against me” standpoint. I lost everything. I mean everything. Overpairs vs. underpairs in poker for a $5k NAPT seat. Got rivered. Doubling down on 11s, I musta been 0/14 on catching a Ten. Sports bets? Forget it. Anyone who had taken the other side of my sports calls and put triple their normal bet on it would be clinking together glasses of champagne on a yacht right now and having a hearty laugh with their friends off the coast of Monte Carlo. I mean it was that bad but of course I’ll still go back in a couple months.

On our last night there, we were at this place on the 58th floor of the Palms that is like a hybrid between a nightclub and a casino. They’ve got blackjack tables and a roulette wheel so if you want to gamble and skip all of the dancing and socializing, you can. After three nights straight of going out to fancy-shmancy places, all I really wanted to do was sit down at a blackjack table and leave the dancing to the new arrivals.

My friends were pretty much feeling the same way, so they joined in. One friend, I’ll call him Terry since I don’t know how he’d feel about his business being aired on the Internet for everyone to read, had won a ton of money playing slots of all things. I mean, everyone knows that there are plenty of sucker bets in Vegas, but slots are the sucker bets of the sucker bets. Even the three card poker players view the slot machine players as total suckers. But Terry likes to overlook this fact and sit down at the slots thereby making all of his friends uncomfortable since playing slots is a very chick thing to do. How does Terry do at the 15% house-edge slots? Kills them, of course. So while Greg (another fake name) and I are getting killed at things we’re good at (poker) and things that don’t have thaaat bad of a house edge (blackjack), Terry is absolutely mutilating the slot machines to the tune of a couple thousand.

And it’s not like he hit some big jackpot either. He was just spiking $100-$200 scores on the slots all day like that type of thing just happens normally.

So we’re up there and Greg and I are just getting killed. Absolutely killed. I finally catch a good card. I hit a 13 against a 10 and spike the perfect 8. Sweet! I am finally going to win a hand. Before the dealer showed their down-card, I said, “if I don’t win this one and somehow push, I’m done. I’m out of here.” Dealer’s down-card is a 2, draw card is, you guessed it… 9.

I grab my chips and leap up out my seat. “Nyet! I’m outta here. I’m going back downstairs. Screw this place.”

After I walk away, Greg tells Terry that he should play the next hand that I would have been dealt if I hadn’t left. He was like, “listen, I know you don’t like blackjack, but you’re basically the luckiest guy in the city right now. You need to put $100 on the next hand that Cory was going to be dealt. You’re a guaranteed winner.” Terry complies and of course gets a blackjack.

Near the very end of the night, we wind up at a blackjack table downstairs where there is this Asian male dealer. At this point, I was totally down to the felt. Whatever money I could lose on this trip was pretty much already gone. I had maybe a couple of bets left in me before it was time to take that long, painful walk to the elevator with nothing but your room key in your pocket.

At some point we learned that the Palms blackjack tables allow surrendering. If you don’t know what that means, don’t sweat it too much; it’s basically just a nice alternative to hitting or standing that can save you half your bet when you have a really bad hand.

So I get dealt a 16 against a 10 which is pretty much the worst statistical scenario you can find yourself in at a blackjack table. I motion to the guy that I want to surrender my bet. Now this is how cold I was running… I had already lost so much hand over fist that it had gone from being frustrating to just being funny. So I motion surrender and the dealer looks at me, swear to God, and says, “why?”

Pause… pause…

I look around in disbelief with my arms in the air and just say to him, “I dunno man!!…. CAUSE I SAID SO!! Since when is that not good enough?!” My friends and I just lose it. Even he started laughing. I mean… I was running so cold that I couldn’t even get the dealer to just do what I wanted him to without having him drag me over the coals about it! What makes it especially startling is that surrendering is what you should do in that situation from an optimal-strategy standpoint! I mean… really?!?! What do you mean, “why?” For one, because you’re supposed to, but more importantly, why on God’s green earth are you asking me? Just deal the card!!

The whole thing was a pretty good laugh. It truly did feel like something out of a movie where there was a moment where you couldn’t even believe what was happening. He turned out to be really cool and ironically reminded me that surrendering was an option when I was later put in the same 16 vs. 10 scenario on the biggest bet I made of the night (it’s easy to forget that surrendering is allowed since it usually almost never is). That was a moment I’ll never forget. I’ve played thousands and thousands of hands of blackjack before but never once has a dealer just looked at me and said, “why?” after I declared my decision.

Vegas is such a terrible place. Think about it… where else in the world can you visit, have the worst luck imaginable all trip, and on the flight home agree wholeheartedly when your friend says, “we should go back in April!”

Note: I didn’t really want to write much about poker in this entry since I already did so in an article on PokerTips.

Since buying airfare, the whole trip has taken on more significance. Two friends are now meeting up out there and the Venetian altered their Deep Stack schedule by adding the $5,000 buy-in inaugural Main Event for the newly-created North American Poker Tour (NAPT). That event starts on Saturday. On Friday, I’ll be chasing a pipe-dream of participating by playing some satellites.

A few weeks ago, my friends and I booked a table at Tao, the nightclub at Venetian, for Friday night. Just today I saw that PokerStars is holding a launch party for the NAPT that same night which will be headlined by T-Pain. Apparently Tony Hawk, Christian Slater, Brad Garrett, Marlon Wayans and several others will be in attendance as well. How cool is that? Just so happen to book a table at a certain club on a certain night in Vegas and it turns out PokerStars is holding some huge launch party there!

Should be interesting. I’ve been to Tao before and the place is pretty huge, so it’s entirely possible that the launch party will be going on in a part of the club that my friends and I are unable to gain access to. That, or I’ll be standing on top of a piano singing I’m On a Boat with T-Pain.

Hey, it’s Vegas. Anything can happen!

The trip still had its enjoyable moments, though. One friend in particular whom I hadn’t seen in two years is always great to hang out with since he’s like an encyclopedia about the lives of people we grew up with (not to mention a wild “life of the party” type). Playing the “whatever happened to so and so?” game with him might have been the highlight of the trip.

Another highlight was winning the WCOOP Extreme Satellite yesterday on PokerStars, an event in which they added fifty $5,200 seats to the prize pool. I was a pretty big underdog to play the WCOOP Main Event this year due to, as Bill Fillmaff puts it, bankroll irregularities. Now that I’m in, I’m giving people a chance to buy a chunk of my action. If you’re interested, more information is available in this PokerTips thread.

Last year, I played the WCOOP from a hotel room in a Louisiana casino which was my home for a few days while Houston was repairing itself from Hurricane Ike. Hopefully Mother Nature won’t impose the need to flee again this season, but taking a trip for the WCOOP sounds kinda fun anyway. Anyone got any ideas?

Finally, a friend introduced me to this guy ‘Matisyahu’, a Hasidic Jew reggae musician. Yea… not a combo you see every day. I’m sure a lot of you have heard of him. I’m pretty terrible about knowing anything about any artists who aren’t played on the top 40 stations. Anyway, here are a couple of his songs that I like a lot:

I’ve spent most of tonight making sure my iPhone is loaded with music I can use to ’stay in the zone’ (a corny, over-used phrase, but one that seems appropriate right now) for a summer of tournaments. The playlist will mostly alternate between hip-hop and trance. This weekend is the $1k ‘Stimulus’ event. Beyond that, I’m really not sure what I’ll play, but the $1,500 6-Max event on Tuesday looks appealing at the moment.

One aspect of this trip I am excited about is the unknown. I have no return flight. I have no hotel accommodation beyond Monday. And I only have enough money for what I would describe as a slightly larger than meager amount of participation in tournaments. Within a week, I could be completely broke and back home or living in a high-rise condo following through on an outside chance to win WSOP Player of the Year thanks to a fantastic start… or anywhere in between.

For the fourth year in a row, I’ll be documenting the ups and downs, but hopefully mostly ups, on my WSOP blog at PokerTips.org.

Thanks for reading and may we both have a good summer!

Size of City

I don’t really like small areas for the simple reason that it’s too easy to get bored. On the contrast, I’m not too wild about large cities either. There’s something about the hustle-bustle and magnitude of large, urban areas that overwhelms me. I don’t like going to a place for several nights and still feeling like I have no grasp on the size and scope of the city. Houston sits alright with me because it’s not endlessly urban; rather, the city is more a bunch of neighborhoods and suburbs that just have no clear delineations between one another. But even after living there for three years (this month), there are still parts of the city I’ve never been to and some I’m sure I haven’t even heard of.

What I like about Tel Aviv is that it fits in that perfect zone between small and large. To be sure, it’s a very large city, but it doesn’t seem so large that you couldn’t know your way around after just a couple of months.

Girls

The women here are really good looking. I’d guess there are a couple primary reasons for this. First of all, military service is required for all Israelis around the age of 18. That obviously helps promote fitness. However, I’d say what’s more important is the diet of the region. This is more of a eat to live, not live to eat culture. There’s less wealth per capita here which helps discourage a lifestyle of excess. Additionally, since the weather is so good, people are able to stay active outdoors for most of the year.

Food

The food here has been surprisingly great. Most food in Europe sucks in my opinion. I know that’s counter to what most people like to claim, but most people are idiots. The food in Israel is actually pretty solid. The produce is very fresh and most foods are prepared with olive oil. A strong emphasis on spices and seasonings in most entrees make for very flavorful dining.

Misanthropic Inhabitants

People in Tel Aviv keep to themselves. I’ve hardly noticed anyone who could be classified as loud or obnoxious. They go about their routines and find little need for exhausting chatter. Perhaps this is rooted in some sort of innate distrust for others. After all, many people here are the descendants of Holocaust survivors living in a nation where every neighboring country wants to wipe them off the map. However, this isn’t to say that they aren’t courteous, which they are.

Climate

At least right now, the weather here is simply fantastic. Aside from a couple brutal summer months (which I’ll take any day over a frigid winter), the climate here is great.

Safe Region

Before arriving, my friend Ira told me he felt safer in Tel Aviv than he does in the U.S. I figured that was just his Jewish-bias trying to stick up for an area with a reputation for being dangerous, but he wasn’t exaggerating. I feel completely safe here. Even wandering around the streets at night, which is something I would never do in most parts of Europe (thanks to some unsavory experiences in Amsterdam), it doesn’t even cross my mind to feel unsafe. The only particularly dangerous parts of Israel are the West Bank and Gaza, both of which are a very safe distance away from Tel Aviv.

I’ve noticed that in places where all of the people have an easier time feeling like one big family, the area is just a lot safer. Another example of this is Copenhagen. Both there and in Tel Aviv, there are a fairly small amount of people who share their own language and currency that is foreign to the rest of the world. It’s like being in a small community where no one would think to bring harm upon one another because they have an easier time adopting a “we’re in this together” mentality. Not surprisingly, the people of both areas have chosen a strongly socialist form of government.

Developing Region

To me, there’s something that energizes me about areas that are less developed than the U.S. Maybe it’s all of the opportunities for growth and adding efficiencies that fosters a certain level of excitement. Tel Aviv is very refreshing in this regard. It’s a nice reminder that not all the world is spoiled by a sense of entitlement and destined to stagnation.

It has me thinking that my friends Sam and Justin, who each left the U.S. for South Korea and Thailand, respectively, might be on to something. I would love an excuse to spend a couple months out of the year here. It’s possible, though not too likely, that such an excuse could materialize out of a new business relationship that brought us to this lovely city in the first place.

Sunset view from our hotel.

Our tour guide was this hilarious Israeli dude named Eilon:

Eilon really added to the overall enjoyment of the tour. He was energetic, knowledgeable, and generally did a good job of anticipating everyone’s needs (we were in a group with six other people, four Canadians who work for Air Canada and were on a three-day stay over and two guys from Hong Kong). When the day was over, Michael and I each gave Eilon a 100 shekel tip as a small way of showing our gratitude.

The four Canadians had purchased a package for a tour of both Bethlehem and Jerusalem. The Chinese guys and Michael and I only purchased the Jerusalem package. In our case, this was mostly because we were unaware there was a Bethlehem option, but being that it rests in the West Bank, we were fine with letting the Canadians enjoy that part amongst themselves.

Eilon dropped the four of us off on the outskirts of Jerusalem at Yad Vashem, the foremost Holocaust Museum in the world, before taking the Canadians to Bethlehem for two hours.

What to say about Yad Vashem? It’s a thoroughly impressive museum. A lot of people and a lot of money have gone towards preserving the history of the Holocaust and memorializing its victims in this museum. At times, it was pretty easy to feel overcome with emotion.

The lesson I took from Yad Vashem is that humanity’s worse doesn’t materialize overnight. It’s a process. There is a saying I like a lot that goes, “if you put a frog in boiling water, it jumps out immediately. If you put it in room temperature water and set it to a boil, the frog will stay in the water until its death.” The world was the latter such frog in the Holocaust. It didn’t start with Hitler coming to power and promptly declaring that he wishes to exterminate all Jews. It started slowly: first requiring Jewish property owners to register themselves, then for all Jews to identify themselves, then for them to be relocated to ghettos, then for them to be hauled off to work camps… it was a very slippery slope in which the better nature of many people was lulled to sleep in the face of an injustice.

The Chinese guys leaving Yad Vashem. No photography was allowed inside the museum.

Eilon returned to pick us up and we made our way to the Mount of Olives. It is here where Christ made several journeys between Bethany and Jerusalem and also where he is said to have ascended into heaven.

From the vantage point of the Mount of Olives, the entire Old City can be seen. For about an hour, Eilon pointed out several historic sites and routes from religious history dating back 5,000 years while we were occasionally interrupted by a Palestinian guy practicing his drifting in a run down Kia some 50 feet behind us.

The view of the Temple Mount from the Mount of Olives. The land inside the walls where the Dome of the Rock is seen is probably the most highly coveted area of land on Earth. Jews believe it is the site where God created the world in its current form. Muslims believe it is the site where the prophet Muhammad ascended into heaven. In the 9 o’clock direction from the Golden Dome is a grey colored dome. That is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the site of Christ’s crucifixion and burial. He was nailed to the cross 200 meters to the right of the Golden Dome (in this picture) and was forced to carry the cross through the streets to the site of his death.

Me looking like a tourist.

Eilon explaining the history of the area.

The building towards the bottom-right of the picture with the multitude of small grey domes rests over the land where it is believed Judas betrayed Jesus. The Temple Mount is just out of site to the upper-left.

At the base of the Temple wall is what appears to be a bunch of rubble. Those are actually grave sites. It is said that when Jesus returns to Earth, he will go through the gates and into the Temple. However, Jewish law states that no person of priestly origin (of which Jesus is) can enter a graveyard. For this reason, Muslims have buried people all around entrances to the Temple in hopes of preventing Jesus from being able to enter.

We left the Mount of Olives and made our way to the Temple’s Western Wall (perhaps better known as the Wailing Wall). The Western Wall marks the spot that is as close as Jews can get to the Temple since it is under Muslim control. It is a hugely significant site, quite probably the most significant site in all of Judaism. Eilon said that a crummy apartment in Jerusalem with a view of the Wall goes for multi-millions.

Entering the area of the Western Wall.

The Wailing Wall with the Dome of the Rock barely visible above.

I spent probably five minutes at the Wall. No cameras were allowed within about 100 feet. The Wall is packed with notes and prayers placed by people from all over the world. I was actually a little uncomfortable, or at the very least felt awkward while at the Wall. The gap between what it means to me and what it meant to the pilgrims three feet away made me keep my social awareness dial on it’s maximum setting. I wanted to see the Wall and touch the Wall but not for a second if it came at the expense of offending anyone or seeming out of place. I spent a few moments touching it and appreciating the history behind it before removing myself.

Michael and I at the Wall.

The holiness of the Wall was probably lost on this cat.

Several Hasidic Jews praying and talking at the Wall.

Michael explaining why the Wall is overrated.

From the Wall, we made our way through a crowded Muslim corridor with several merchants selling trinkets.

We stopped at a great place for lunch. I had a shawarma sandwich and a falafel sandwich both of which were quite tasty. The food here seems to be really good if you stick close to the vest. The only poor meal I’ve had was when I took a gamble and ordered a steak. Bad decision.

After lunch, we made our way to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (meaning “tomb of Christ”).

At the entrance to the Church. The ladder outside the window above and a little to the left of my head has been there since at least 1850.

Crosses rest against a wall of the Church.

Stairway leading up to the site of Christ’s crucifixion.

A mural depicting Jesus on the cross which also marks the spot of where one of the prisoners who died alongside Christ was crucified.

The site of the crucifixion of Christ.

A tablet that commemorates where Christ was placed after being removed from the cross to be cleaned for burial.

Outside of the tomb of Christ.

The entrance to the site commemorating the tomb of Christ.

After leaving the Church, Eilon lightened things up by dragging Michael into a Muslim barber shop and having the guy threaten to shave his head. To me, this picture captures a fact I did not realize before today: relations between Muslims and Jews in this region aren’t as hostile as the nightly news might have you think. While the governments may be hostile towards one another, the average people from each group co-exist just fine on an individual level for the most part.

A broad view of the Western Wall as we made our way back to the tour van.

Eilon leading us towards the outside of the Old City walls.

I got the chance to call my Mom from the Mount of Olives and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre which I could tell meant a lot to her. I did not speak with my Dad while he was at work, but I texted him from the site of Christ’s crucifixion. I think they’re enjoying living vicariously through me on this trip and I hope they can make a visit themselves at some point in the future, perhaps even with my company.

Israel is a very beautiful country rich in history. I plan on squeezing as much juice out of the fruit as possible in my remaining five days here.

A little while ago at 2 pm, Michael and I were awoken to a PA announcement in our room that kept repeating the phrase, “all guests and staff need to evacuate the hotel immediately.” When you’re in a country where terrorist attacks are not infrequent, that message served as about the most effective alarm clock I’ve had in my life.

Thirty seconds later, we were clothed and out the door. The hotel is basically a giant atrium. While rushing towards the elevators, I looked down and noticed not the slightest sense of urgency from anyone who was loitering in the lobby. Once we made our way down there, it was clear that there was no imminent threat to the hotel.

“What was up with that evacuation announcement?” I asked one of the staff. “Oh it’s just a drill, we do it every three months.” Lovely.

Though to be fair, it’s probably good that it happened. There’s no telling how long we would have slept. Despite going to sleep at midnight, we were both so horribly sleep deprived that it wouldn’t have been absurd to think that we might have slept until 6 pm or so, thereby really screwing over our sleep schedule for this trip.

Last night, we watched the Israeli National soccer team play Greece at a sports bar with a few people we know. Israel kept it interesting for most of the game until letting Greece pull ahead 2-1 on a penalty kick somewhere around the 70 minute mark.

As for today, we’re just going to take it easy and do some light shopping and exploring around Tel Aviv. Hopefully by tomorrow we’re fully recovered from the travels enough to enjoy a day trip to Jerusalem.

Woke up at 7:30 am in Houston yesterday and flew to NYC to catch a flight to Tel Aviv where I’m staying for a week for business purposes. Long story short: our flight got to Tel Aviv six hours later than it was supposed to. This was thanks to three reasons: 1.) the plane was two hours late getting to the gate on departure, 2.) after we boarded, someone decided they didn’t want to go after all, so baggage claim had to unload all the bags to find that person’s bag, 3.) once we got over the Mediterranean, one of the passengers started having a heart attack which forced us to make an emergency landing in Athens. That detour only got us to the ground 20 minutes faster than it would have if we had just continued on to Tel Aviv, but I guess 20 minutes is an eternity when it comes to responding to a heart attack.

Two nights ago I only slept for four hours. Last night (on the plane) I didn’t sleep at all. So I’m completely exhausted and the obvious thing to do would be to go to sleep.

BUT… a friend of Michael’s cousin (both of whom are also in Israel, incidentally) just pointed out that the Israeli national soccer team kicks off against Greece in a World Cup qualifying match in an hour. So I sprinkled some money on Israel +355 (to render myself as much a fan as the locals) and now we’re heading out to a sports bar to watch the game.

Pictures later mb.