Saturday night in Vegas

The other day I was exhausted but felt suddenly comfortable and awake the instant I sat down at the poker table. After exercising yesterday, a reasonable night's sleep, and a healthy meal I feel fantastic, energized and aggressive as we sit down to play at noon. The second the cards are in the air, however, I feel exhausted and can barely keep my eyes open. My usual green tea has no effect and I drink my first cup of coffee all week with little improvement. I have the beginnings of a slight sore throat, and quickly become more irritated than usual with some of my opponents' annoying mannerisms. Finally, it dawns on me--I'm burned out.



A wild but ultimately inconsequential run of cards wakes me up a little and once again I outlast 3/4 of the field before falling to a coin flip when my A 10 fails to connect and loses to my opponent's 9 9. I confess to Stephen I am momentarily sick of cards and poker. "You look tired," he says--the last thing I want to hear. And so after two beers and a sushi dinner, with not only all of the best poker games on the planet in my hotel, but the Siren Song of Vegas on Saturday night calling, I tuck myself into bed at 7:15 pm.



Two and a half hours of occasional fitful sleep later, I feel marginally better and slightly more interested in playing some cards. My justification for heading off to the tables comes down to this: (1) continuing to sleep now would totally throw me off schedule--I'd probably wake up at 2 with nothing to do, and (2) poor as I feel, at least I've had a long break; the players at the Rio have been playing for so many hours that now I must have an edge! I shower, search for some clean clothes with some mojo, and check myself out in the mirror. My eyes are a little red and have a slight sickly glaze that no amount of Visine washes out.



Wish me luck!