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Camping
doesn’t interest me these days. There was a time in my youth when
the idea of a tent and a sleeping bag had great romantic appeal, but
no more.
Today my idea
of camping is a hotel without room service.
So let’s get
one thing clear. Camp Hellmuth is not about camping, and neither is
Caesars Palace.
So being that
I love to play poker, live in Las Vegas, and I’m always interested
in improving my game, it looked like Camp Hellmuth might be my kind
of gig.
I do love to
be right.
Opening night
at Camp Hellmuth was at Pure, voted the top nightclub in the US
today, and with good reason. It’s awesome, and we had it all to
ourselves.
Cocktail
parties don’t always have food, so I stopped at the sushi bar before
the party. Big mistake.
Phil, you
didn’t tell me there would be food at the cocktail party.
The appetizer
buffet turned out to be a Wolfgang Puck wet dream. Petite beef
Wellington with tarragon sauce, sun dried tomato and fontina cheese
tarts, grilled salmon skewers, phillipine chicken with adobe peanut
sauce…
Not to mention
the gorgeous supermodels hostessing the event.
As I mingled,
nibbled and sipped my way though the happy crowd, I wondered what
was Phil’s inspiration for this event. Was it some kind of donkey
eradication program? Something that might relieve Phil of the
frustration of some lucky yahoo drawing out on him again in a big
tournament?
Not so. Camp
Hellmuth is the brainchild of Brandon Rosen and Jeff Goldenberg, a
couple of savvy, young promoters, who, when they got this idea,
simply called Phil up on his cell phone and pitched it to him. Nice
work, guys.
Day One at
Camp Hellmuth began with informative seminars by T.J. Cloutier and
our illustrious host. Both gave entertaining and very useful tips
from their own success.
But the show
was stolen by Joe Navarro, formerly of the FBI, who gave a
fantastic, not-to-be-missed, in depth presentation on reading poker
tells.
Now listen
up. As a writer, poker player, and real estate agent, I figure I
know a little something about how to tell when people are lying to
me. I was even married once. These days I don’t even bother to
listen to what people say. Instead, I hear the truth between the
lines, which is what they really mean anyway.
Well,
fuhgeddaboutit. For all I really know about the science of
reading body language and discerning truth, I’m as clueless as
George Bush at a Mensal meeting.
Joe and Phil
are working on a book, and fellas you can sign me up for the first
copy right now.
The second
half of Day One was the cash tournament, which, I am sorry to say,
didn’t last very long for your humble narrator, who’s pocket tens
fell victim to Stefan Patterson’s pocket aces. I wouldn’t mind, but
Stefan is a fellow writer for pete’s sake.
The really
cool part about the tournament was being able to call over a pro to
help you analyze your hand in a critical situation, before making
your decision. This was great fun, and no one had a better time
than Announcer Phil, who danced back and forth between the tables
with his microphone like Richard Simmons in an aerobics class.
One of the
most entertaining moments occurred when a player called over Mark
Kroon, Ultimate Bets’ infamous Poker HO, for a consult on whether to
call an all-in bet.
Anyone who
plays against HO could have told you he’d say, CALL, which he did of
course, and the player got busted out. The player’s parting words
to Mark, were, Hey HO, you suck!
To add insult
to injury, Ho was the first player out on day two. Way to go, HO!
Day Two
brought great presentations by Antonio Esfandiari and some other
pros, and continued with the prize tournament, which ended up being
hotly contested, as the first prize was to be an all expense paid
trip to Ultimate Bet’s Aruba tournament this coming fall, which, I
can tell you from personal experience having won a seat to this
event online last year, is a total blast, and a prize well worth
winning.
The tournament
director, due to time constraints, was forced to implement a blind
escalation pace that makes an online ultra-turbo look like an
exercise in Buddhist meditation.
The pace was
ferocious, and by the time we got down to heads up, it was like an
Ali-Frazier fight, and you were sorry that someone had to lose.
Enter Victor
Bigio, the marketing rep for Ultimate Bet, who stepped up and gave
both of the last two players the trip, with the winner to get the
paid for seat in the Aruba tournament.
Camp ended
with a fabulous Caesar’s banquet for all, while the players who made
the final table from day one played on stage under the cameras and
lights, and the rest of us watched.
In spite of
the exponential, immeasurable growth of poker, a real sense of
community prevailed at this event, and those of us who attended not
only made new friends, but also wound up feeling like we belong to
something. Something good.
One thing is
for damn sure. If you love poker, and you want to be a better poker
player, then you don’t want to miss the next Camp Hellmuth.
As for me, in
the words of The Governator, I’ll Be Back.
AKA
bobspirit
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