Thrilled to be alive for day 2!

Somehow or other I stuck to my plan of being patient (not at all easy for me!) even as my stack dipped dangerously low to $7500, making me the low man at the table. A cleverly played AQ doubled me up and I took full advantage of my (justified) tight old man image to steal a few pots. I got lucky twice, once when I found AK on the button and the big blind re-raised me all in with AQ and my kicker played on a 3 4 5 6 8 board and late in the evening when I had A A and busted the player to my right who had K K. The last two cards were Queens and I have never ever seen cards look so much like Kings before!

To make a long story short I ended the night with $37150 in chips, near average for Day 2. I now have two full days off to catch up on sleep and blogging, so expect some good stories.

I'll leave you with this one, courtesy of my good friend Bill Phipps. One of his buddies spent four hours before today's event getting himself made up as an old guy and has been disguising his steal attempts with classic old guy moves. (For example, sighing, frowning, and then moving all in with shaking hands.)

Needless to say, this makes me think I should take more advantage of my default image as "some random tight old guy" and rob these youngsters blind.

Bill is one of my true high-roller friends, who would think nothing of betting $10,000 on a blackjack hand to get a comp to cut a cab line, and who regularly bets six figures on absurd Super Bowl prop bets. Like all the rest of him, he sneers at my room at the Rio, preferring to alternate between classier places such as the Bellagio and the Venetian. I'm willing to stay at the Rio because it's more convenient and I can dart up to my room for a shower at the dinner break, but every time I venture out I see their point. I thought I had Bill for a minute when he mentioned he had a room at the Rio last year, but when I called him on it he one-upped me by letting me know he also had a room at the Bellagio. Sigh. I'll never be a real high-roller, certainly not as long as I keep my Honda Civic and put up with the grime at the Rio.

In any case, we had a marvelous time, quaffing a few well-deserved beers with Bill, his devastatingly beautiful black 6' 22 year-old nursing student girlfriend, and my friend John Armbrust, who was totally miserable about a few key hands at the end of the night even though he ended up with more chips than me.

As for me, having virtually counted myself out at the dinner break, I am beyond ecstatic to have mounted a serious comeback and be fully in contention when the tournament resumes in two days.