LandoNation: From the Archives - "Australia's Shameful Slowroll"

It's been a long time - far too long - since my last post. Then again, the last few months have been nothing short of insane. In a good way.

Long story short, I'm back in the grind, having now hung up my last media pass on the back of my office door. It is true - my career in poker journalism, and all the perks that came with it, has come to an end. But boy, oh boy, it was one helluva ride.

And with the one-year anniversary of my trip to Las Vegas coming up, there has been a pang of sadness when I think about what could have been. A return trip to the World Series of Poker? Perhaps another stint or two on the Asia Pacific Poker Tour? Even taking a trip out to Europe for one of their many poker events?

Who knows? All I know is that I've had my fair share of run-good and now I'm cashing out while I'm ahead. GG Lando, thanks for playing.

Anyway, now that I've got the sentimental stuff out of the way, I thought it would be nice to be able to share some of my personal highlights with you. There's been a fair bit of copy I've managed to churn out over the years (most of which has been online), but I wanted to take the opportunity to share some of my favourite articles with you.

I'll do my best to post them as regularly as I can, but with the hours I'm working these days, that may not be a possibility. But hey - it's not like anybody's checking back all that often, right?

So here goes - my first LandoNation: From the Archives.

* * * * *

This article was written for the PokerStars Blog during the 2011 APPT Melbourne Main Event as the "opener" for Day 4. By my own admission, I did borrow the idea from my mentor, Sean Callander, who had touched on this piece of infamous sporting history in a previous APPT feature article when we worked in Auckland together in 2009, but I thought, "What better way to try and drudge up the trans-Tasman rivalry before the final table than to discuss 'Underarm '81'?"

The end result: a heated heads-up war of attrition between Australian Poker Hall of Famer Leo Boxell and Kiwi young gun Phillip Willcocks. There was a lot riding on Willcocks' shoulders, having come so close to a win previously on the ANZPT circuit during the 2009 Queensland event, but Boxell was pulling out all the stops to win that elusive major title - his first since 2000. With his wife Beverley watching on, Boxell emerged the victor, much to the delight of the huge contingent of Aussie pros on the rail.

Now, I'm not saying that this article was responsible for the love lost between Boxell and Willcocks, but it sure did reflect the emotion and the intensity we all felt in the Crown Poker Room as we watched on that night. Indeed, it was probably my most favourite piece that I've ever written, so without further ado, I present: "Australia's Shameful Slowroll".

* * * * *

When it comes to international sporting rivalries, there are few that compare to the one between Australia and New Zealand. Even if you're not from either country, it's not hard to get caught up in the cross-fire between the two nations.

No matter what the game - be it cricket, rugby, netball or soccer - those who don our national colours of green and gold are always up to show the "All-Blacks" just how it's done, and vice-versa. It's always a fierce contest, laced with the occasional dust-up, but always plenty of trash talk and chest-beating.

Come at me, bru!

Most of it, of course, is all in good fun. After all, we go way back and have been there for each other through thick and thin: the most-recognised bond between us is encapsulated in the ANZACs (Australia & New Zealand Army Corps), where our soldiers have served side-by-side in times of war.

However, there was one dark moment in our shared history that nearly tore the alliance - and the two countries - apart.

Rewind back to the summer of 1981 - almost 30 years ago to the day. The setting: the Melbourne Cricket Ground. It was the third one-day international cricket match in a best-of-five finals series between Australia and New Zealand. The arena was packed with more than 100,000 screaming fans and it was do-or-die out there for both teams.



New Zealand were down by six runs with one ball remaining in the final over. Greg Chappell, the captain of the Australian side, called in his brother Trevor after using up his best bowlers. Despite Trevor having already taken two wickets, it wasn't enough for Greg to be convinced that his younger brother could deliver.

In a moment of madness, Greg took it upon himself to do the unthinkable. In poker terms, he decided to angle-shoot for the win.

After consulting with the umpires and the New Zealand batsmen, Greg ordered Trevor to deliver the last ball of the over underarm, which at that time was technically legal, but in terms of playing in the spirit of the game - well, as the saying goes - it's just not cricket.

The horrific images of "Underarm '81" still make any Aussie or Kiwi sports fan cringe to this day



As their older brother Ian watched on helplessly in the commentary box, Trevor stepped up to the crease and proceeded to roll the ball down the pitch. The ball skidded along the ground towards Brian McKenchie (the New Zealand batsman on strike) and he was forced into playing a defensive stroke before tossing his bat away in disgust as he stormed off the field.

Although Australia won the game to take the lead in the series 2-1, even their fans booed the team as they headed back to the pavillion. In front of a sold-out crowd at the MCG, with millions more watching on television around the world, Australia had blatantly committed the sickest sporting "slowroll" in history.

The fallout from the incident was ugly. The Chappells became social pariahs and the International Cricket Council, the sport's governing body, immediately changed the rules to make it illegal to bowl underarm. Naturally, it became the major talking point at water-coolers and breakfast tables nation-wide in both countries and created a global media frenzy.

Even the leaders of both countries spoke out in condemnation of the team's actions. Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser said that it was "contrary to the traditions of the game", but New Zealand Prime Minister was more blunt in his response: "[It was] the most disgusting incident I can recall in the history of cricket ... it was an act of true cowardice and I consider it appropriate that the Australian team were wearing yellow."

We're hoping that nothing controversial like this occurs today at the final table of the PokerStars.net APPT Melbourne Main Event, but one thing's for certain - this Trans-Tasman battle will be one for the ages. Play will get underway at 2:10pm local time (GMT +10), so be sure to keep your browsers locked to the PokerStars Blog as we bring you live updates from Crown Casino!

The WSOP Diaries: Week 2 - (Not So) Pretty Vegas

Living in Las Vegas is like meeting a girl at a nightclub. Through all the flashing lights, loud music and the crush of the crowd, you see a hot young thing batting her eyelids at you across the room. Your heart flutters. You can feel your face flush red-hot. You’re not sure if it’s from the haze of cigarette smoke or the beer goggles that you’re now wearing after downing a gallon of vodka, but to you, she’s the most wonderful person you’ve ever met. It’s love at first sight.

As you dance the night away together, bumping and grinding and sweating, the chemistry builds. She’s giving away all the signs. You know that you want to take this girl home and ravage her in every way possible – and she knows that you know and she’s down for anything. It’s like neither of you want to be out each other’s lives from this moment.

But after you wake up in the morning and rub your eyes to take a real look at her in the sunlight. The bile rises in your throat from her scent. You study her body intensely. It’s pocked, flabby and pale, covered in bruises and scars. Her make-up is peeling from her body heat. It’s intense, but right now, the last thing you want to do is be next to her.

Too late – as you begin to slowly creep out of bed, she stirs, sits up and greets you with a smile, only this time you can see the stains in her teeth. She begins to talk about the night you’ve had together and you can’t believe the shit that’s pouring from this girl’s mouth. “I know you have feelings for me, and yes, I have them too – I want us to be together forever.”

You smile politely. You answer her questions with a series of uh-huh’s and mmmm’s, but secretly, you want to get the fuck out of there as quickly as you possibly can.

Las Vegas is a seedy, dangerous place by day. As you walk down the street, you'll find yourself surrounded by dusty, ragged, downtrodden zombie bums that wander aimlessly up and down Flamingo, usually hanging around the bus stop outside of the Westin. You can tell by how much they’ve pickled in the Nevada sun as to the length of time that they’ve spent on the streets.

Still, they don’t beg. Instead, they just sleep in the shade or sip from the pint-sized beer cans in brown paper bags. They know that nobody’s going to give them money. This is Sin City. Out here, you’ve got to fend for yourself. If you don’t develop a steel spine, Las Vegas will chew you up and spit you out.

Oh, and God help you if you’re homeless and out on the street on weekends. There must be some sort of code, because on Friday and Saturday nights, they’re nowhere to be found. After all, they have to make room for all the tourists.

Instead, they’re replaced by hoardes of Hispanic immigrants that stand on every street corner of Las Vegas Boulevard, wearing cheap fluoro t-shirts blaring the slogan, “MEET HOT SEXY GIRLS TONIGHT!” All day and all night, they’ll flick pamphlets at you – you’ll constantly hear the fap-fap-fap of the cardboard slapping against their hands, trying to dish off discount vouchers to strip clubs and escorts.

All you need to do is just keep your head down and keep walking – besides, if you are looking for a quick fix, there are red-and-yellow boxes on the sidewalk that have all the pornographic catalogues you need. Not an actual newspaper stand or postbox in sight.

So one would think that upon arriving to work before the start of another day at the World Series of Poker, you’d be okay. It’s air-conditioned, spacious and besides, you’re in the midst of poker Mecca. The biggest poker event on the calendar. Surely, this would cheer you up. Right?

Wrong.

It’s not that you don’t want to be here – after all, it’s everyone’s dream to come to the WSOP, no matter if you’re a player, dealer or a member of the press. Like any job, you have your good and bad days, plus you’re always meeting lots of new people and running into plenty of other friends from back home.

It’s not that at all – it’s the incessant clacking and riffling and splashing of poker chips, across all 400+ tables in both the Pavillion and Amazon Rooms. Add to that the super-high ceilings and it makes the sound echo like crickets chirping. Not even the years of working in casinos and card clubs can help you to shut out the sound.

It drives you insane. You feel your blood boil. You have to get rid of the noise, it’s burning into your brain and it’s making your ears ache. As soon as the tournament director announces time for the break, you run outside for a smoke and escape to the silence.

And you don’t even realise that until you’ve looked up from lighting your cigarette, it’s now late at night and the glittering lights of the casinos on The Strip are lit up once again. You see the bellowing fountains of the Bellagio. The Roman empire that is Caesar’s Palace. The bella vista of the Venetian. The untold bounties that lay within Treasure Island and the piercing tower of the Stratosphere and all the places in between, making the black sky burn from the neon.

And it’s at that very moment, as you look out at that view, that you find yourself falling in love with her all over again.

The WSOP Diaries: Week 1 - Losing My Vegas V-Plates

For the last few days, I’ve been trying to put my thoughts into words for this blog in an attempt to tell you about my first week here in Las Vegas. It’s been a struggle, to say the least.

In fact, one could say that coming here for the first time is a lot like losing your virginity: awkward, painful and humiliating – and at times you often question yourself as to why you’ve even put yourself here.

Every day, my head is aching from the million-and-one thoughts running through my brain. My body feels like it’s about to float away and my skin constantly tingles. My palms are sweaty from nerves, my lips are chapped from the heat and my mouth is always dry from the air conditioning in our apartment. I always feel like I’m dehydrated, even after gulping down gallons of bottled water.

I’ve put it down to a mixture of jet lag, alcohol, writer’s block and homesickness – especially homesickness. Seeing my fiancé burst into tears on the morning of my departure from Tullamarine Airport was heart-breaking, as we’ve never been apart for this long.

She understands that this has been the ultimate dream since I started working in this industry seven years ago and although I am indeed living that dream now, the last thought in my head every night as I’m about to go to sleep is that I’ll be waking up the next morning, back in my bed at home, next to her once again.

Even as I’m sitting out on the balcony having a smoke, I have to close my eyes tightly, open them and take another look at the view. From left to right I see the Flamingo, the Imperial Palace, Harrah’s, the Wynn and the Stratosphere casinos. The desert haze causes the buildings to fade slightly, making the buildings appear as if they were in a painted backdrop on a movie set. It just doesn’t seem real.

Incredible: the view from our balcony at dusk

Yet, here I am, alone, smack-bang in the middle of the Nevada Desert, living in God’s playground. And tomorrow, I launch myself head-first into the madness that is the World Series of Poker (WSOP). That’s not to say that I haven’t had my fair share of adventure in Sin City already.

Even the flight from Melbourne on Saturday morning was an experience in itself. Upon arriving at the airport at 3am, I was expecting to see the terminal buzzing with life. Instead, it was as empty and lifeless as a graveyard and my stomach churned as I waited in the departure lounge. Without all the hustle and bustle and the organised chaos around me, it just didn’t feel right. As soon as the announcement came over the PA, I rushed to the front of the queue to board the plane as quickly as possible to rid myself of that deafening silence.

Mind you, after more than 20 hours crammed in cattle class, I wanted nothing more to do with flying and was relieved to finally arrive at The Meridian, my home for the next two months. We’re located a couple of miles south of the Rio, on the corner of Koval and Flamingo – which is right near where Tupac was shot. I’ve also been told that 11-time WSOP bracelet winner Phil Hellmuth puts his parents up here every year.

Home sweet home, indeed: the main pool and clubhouse at The Meridian

The Meridian looks more like a resort, with two swimming pools (both with outdoor spas and gas BBQs and cabanas poolside), a fully-equipped gym, clubhouse, concierge (who is never around when I need them) and squash and racquetball courts. Luckily I had done my research on this place and packed my racquet – who knows, perhaps I could be Las Vegas’ first-ever squash-playing hustler in history?

But on that first day, peeling myself out of the clothes I had been wearing for the last God-knows-how-many-hours, I discovered to my horror that the showers didn’t work. At least, that’s what I thought for a couple of days, during which time I was using the swimming pool as a bath – until Harley (AKA ‘Canadoft’, who is also reporting at the WSOP for the first time this year) pointed out that you had to twist and pull out the tap simultaneously to turn it on.

I’m almost certain I could taste those sweet tears of joy (or was that caked-on sweat?) through the water during that first shower.

My flatmate this year is Chris, AKA ‘Homer’. He’s a British poker blogger extraordinaire and we’ve worked together before at the Aussie Millions a couple of years ago. From memory, this is his third trip to the WSOP and admittedly, I’ve been annoying him with questions about everything, but he’s helped me through a lot over the last few days and we get along just fine.

And during the course of the next few days, there was plenty more that I learned about this town, which I strongly recommend that you should take note of, in case you’re planning to come over here next year:

Firstly – always tip. Tip taxi drivers, tip waiters and waitresses and tip dealers. It’s expected that you do so, even if the service is crappy. Fortunately, I haven’t had a bad experience – yet – and have had no inclination to refuse to tip. Just be prepared to cop a mouthful if you don’t.

You can’t hail a taxi off the street in Las Vegas. Instead, you either have to book one over the phone or walk to the nearest casino taxi rank and get one from there, so make sure you always have cash on hand for fares.

Speaking of walking, be prepared to walk a long way and walk often. Everything about this city (and America in general) is big. Even a trip to the corner store takes about 15 minutes and to walk to a department store can take more than half an hour. Now I understand why so many people use those electric scooters.

It’s really easy to get lost. Even with directions from Google Maps, I somehow managed to walk for over an hour all the way down the wrong street in order to get to Target the other day, before giving up and catching a cab there from the MGM Grand. It doesn’t help that Americans drive on the wrong side of the road, so that messes with your head even more.

At least shopping here in the US is really cheap. I don’t know of any other place in the world where you can get a slab of bottled water for $3.49, or pick up a weeks’ worth of microwave dinners for a little over $2 each. Even purchasing a prepaid cell phone is a breeze. I only paid $141 for a $60-a-month unlimited talk, text and internet plan (and that included the handset). The salesman even activated the phone at the store, set it up and showed me how to use it – now that is customer service!

But whatever you do, don’t attempt to push your shopping trolley out of the car park. As I was walking up to the street from Target, phone in one hand (on hold to the cab company in order to make a booking) and pushing the trolley with the other, I didn’t realise that there was a security mechanism that causes the wheels of the trolley to lock up after it reaches a certain distance from the store.

I heaved, pulled, pushed, sweated and flailed about helplessly in the middle of the car park for over five minutes, trying to get back to the main entrance before an empty cab passed by. Out of sheer desperation, I hailed the driver – and fortunately for me, he did stop!

He even helped me load the groceries into the cab and then into the trolley when I got back to the Meridian so I could take them up the elevator to our apartment. I’m just glad that there are still some Good Samaritans out there in this world and I couldn’t thank him enough – the least I could do was pay him double the fare.

Finally, I have learned that the media’s hangout of choice is the Gold Coast Casino. It’s not the most glamorous place in the world (to put it lightly) and the entire place reeks of carpet freshener mixed with stale booze and cigarettes, but it’s got a certain charm to it that you can’t resist and you’re always in good company. It’s also got a 70-lane bowling alley (which costs only $1 per game after midnight) and $10 Pai Gow Poker, which is probably the most fun you can ever have grinding away $100 over several hours, all so you can drown yourself in free cocktails.

All this in one week – and the scary part is that I haven’t even officially started working yet. As the legendary Dr. Pauly said to me on the first night, “Get used to it. We’re going to be doing this every fucking night for the next seven weeks.”

It’s going to be a long two months for this Vegas virgin.

Oh, No He Didn't!

Just before 7.30pm, I received this particularly interesting email from one Michele Clayborne. It seems that after Phil Ivey came out swinging against his former sponsor (you can read the press release here), Tiltware have returned fire, releasing this official statement:

“Contrary to his sanctimonious public statements, Phil Ivey’s meritless lawsuit is about helping just one player – himself. In an effort to further enrich himself at the expense of others, Mr. Ivey appears to have timed his lawsuit to thwart pending deals with several parties that would put money back in players’ pockets."

"In fact, Mr. Ivey has been invited -- and has declined -- to take actions that could assist the company in these efforts, including paying back a large sum of money he owes the site. Tiltware doubts Mr. Ivey’s frivolous and self-serving lawsuit will ever get to court. But if it does, the company looks forward to presenting facts demonstrating that Mr. Ivey is putting his own narrow financial interests ahead of the players he professes to help.”


And with reports coming out of yesterday's opening day of the WSOP of a verbal stoush between James Bord and John Juanda during the $25,000 Heads-Up No Limit Hold'em Championship, there's no doubt that there are going to be some serious fireworks during the next two months. Stay tuned!

Yes, this shit did indeed just got real.

"You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry ..."

The 2011 World Series of Poker (WSOP) is only 12 hours old, but already there's been some huge news to have come out of Sin City, with Phil Ivey having announced that he is not playing in this year's series and will be suing Full Tilt Poker.

Yes, you read that right. Phil Ivey is NOT playing in this year's WSOP.

I can't even begin to tell you how much of a big deal this is. This is the Tiger Woods of Poker we're talking about. The eight-time WSOP bracelet winner, WPT champion and without a doubt the most popular player on the face of the planet and poster child for what was formerly one of the largest online poker sites in the world.

Now, with all the fallout from Black Friday, it seems that Phil Ivey has had enough of Full Tilt delaying the process of refunding its money to its players. And when Phil Ivey speaks, the world listens.

Here's the official statement from his website:

For many years, I have been proud to call myself a poker player. This great sport has taken me to places I only imagined going and I have been blessed with much success. It is therefore with deep regret that I believe I am compelled to release the following statement.

I am deeply disappointed and embarrassed that Full Tilt players have not been paid money they are owed. I am equally embarrassed that as a result many players cannot compete in tournaments and have suffered economic harm. I am not playing in the World Series of Poker as I do not believe it is fair that I compete when others cannot. I am doing everything I can to seek a solution to the problem as quickly as possible.

My name and reputation have been dragged through the mud, through the inactivity and indecision of others and on behalf of all poker players I refuse to remain silent any longer. I have electronically filed a lawsuit against Tiltware related to the unsettled player accounts. As I am sure the public can imagine, this was not an easy decision for me.

I whole heartedly refuse to accept non-action as to repayment of players funds and I am angered that people who have supported me throughout my career have been treated so poorly.

I sincerely hope this statement will ignite those capable of resolving the problems into immediate action and would like to clarify that until a solution is reached that cements the security of all players, both US and International, I will, as I have for the last six weeks, dedicate the entirety of my time and efforts to finding a solution for those who have been wronged by the painfully slow process of repayment.

The fallout was instantaneous – the Two Plus Two forums are being inundated and the World Series of Pai Gow at the Gold Coast has been put on hold as the bloggers belt out their two cents' worth. I myself was planning to put up my very first post on my Vegas experiences thus far, but clearly, this is not the time.

Mind you, Ivey had apparently been out of action from the tables in Bobby’s Room for some time now and naturally was amongst the millions of Americans shut out from online poker once the DOJ came in and crashed the party.



Let's be clear about one thing - when Ivey comes out and says something about this, you know you can take it as gospel. When it comes to poker (or gambling in general), Ivey means business - and like anybody, he will do as much as he can to protect himself and his interests. It's by no means an arrogant move - if you've been following him over the years, you know that Ivey is not quick to get out and sign autographs for fans or pay lip service to the media (both poker and mainstream).

As a result, Ivey has built a reputation of being a puzzle wrapped in a riddle wrapped in an enigma. The world knows it and they love it. All they want, all they need, is to see Phil Ivey play poker. They know that all Ivey wants to do is play poker. That's the way it was for him before the Moneymaker effect, and he has worked hard to keep it that way ever since.

So for him to say that he's not playing is a big deal. Because like everyone else, he wants to secure the future of the game for its players. He wants to ensure that Full Tilt, a company that he has been a big part of since its inception in 2004, pays its dues. And rest assured, if Phil Ivey is leading the charge against Full Tilt, thousands - and we're talking hundreds of thousands, if not millions - of people will stand beside him.

And they know that once everything finally gets sorted out (which for all we know could take years), he'll will be back at the WSOP next year. So don't be angry or upset - rejoice, because if there was ever a time that the poker world needed someone to speak out, it's right now - and we couldn't have found a better voice than Phil Ivey.

30-Day Song Challenge (Day 3)

It's time for another 30-Day Song Challenge blog and given that most of my friends of Facebook have already completed their lists, I better get a wriggle on!

Song #3 - A song that makes me happy
One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces - Ben Folds Five (from the album Whatever and Ever Amen, released by 550 Music, 1997)


When I first heard this song in Year 7, it made me smile. Not just because of the awesome piano-rock that is Ben Folds Five (which also happens to be one of our biggest influences for our band), but because I could relate to the lyrics and th underlying message of the song. I went through so much crap in my first four years of high school, but like Ben Folds, I knew that some day, I'd be able to rise above the bullshit.

This song inspired me and now, more than 10 years later, I'm exactly where I want to be. Every time this song comes up on my iPod, it still cheers me up and I can't help but dance to it and sing along - even if it's in the middle of a train station and I look and sound like a weirdo!

Please watch the video, listen and enjoy!

Lyrics

September '75, I was 47 inches high,
My mom said by Christmas I would have ...
A badass mother G.I. Joe, for your little minds to blow,
I still got beat up after class.

Yeah, now I'm big and important,
One angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces of you.
If you really want to see me,
Check the papers and the TV,
Look who's tellin' who what to do.
Kiss my ass,
Goodbye!

Don't give me that bullshit,
You know who I am!
I'm your nightmare, little man.
Vic you stole my lunch money, made me cry.
Jane, remember second grade?
Said you couldn't stand my face!
Rather than kiss me,
You said you'd rather die ...

Now I'm big and important,
One angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces of you.
If you really want to see me,
Check the papers and the TV,
Look who's tellin' who what to do.
Kiss my ass,
Goodbye!

You'll be sorry one day,
Yes, you will, yes, you will.
You shouldn't push me around,
'Cause I will, yes I will.
You will be sorry when I'm big,
Yes, you will, yes you will,
You will be sorry!

Now I'm big and important,
One angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces of you.
If you really want to see me,
Check the papers and the TV,
Now ... look who's tellin' who what to do!
Kiss my ass!

Kiss my ass, kiss my ass, kiss my ass goodbye now!

Kiss my ass, kiss my ass, kiss my ass goodbye now!

September '75 I was 47 inches high ...

September '75, September '75 ...

AHHHHHH!!

The Big Dance

I know it's been a long time since my last post here on LandoNation, but there's been a lot going on with school lately, most of which I'm trying to catch up on this weekend before I head overseas.

It's been a while since I've left Australia (the last trip was to Cebu, The Philippines in 2009), but this year, if I'm only going to be taking one trip, it would be this one.

The rumours are true - in exactly two weeks' time, I will be heading to the "big dance" that is the 42nd Annual World Series of Poker (WSOP) at the Rio All-Suite Casino & Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada, USA!

It's my first time to the WSOP (and indeed, America) - and also the first time that I'll be celebrating my birthday outside of Australia! I don't think I've been this excited about an overseas trip in a long time, but at the same time, I'm preparing myself for what will be the hardest job in my career as a poker journalist.

58 events across almost three months in the midst of the Nevada Desert, at the height of summer, where the average temperature is above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Sure, we'll be inside the casino all day, but that's where the other extreme comes into play - from what I've been told, you'll need to rug up in winter clothes if you sit in the wrong spot. Industrial-strength air-conditioning FTW!

Also, the experienced campaigners have told me to expect an average day of about 14 hours - and I know one of my colleagues was stuck covering a final table for almost 24 hours! Of course, this is to be expected - after all, this is the WSOP. The one time of the year where anyone and everyone migrates to the hallowed felt for their shot at stardom. There's no other event like it - where else are you going to see the Average Joe and the Big Name Pro shoulder-to-shoulder, each with an equal chance of winning millions of dollars and the coveted gold bracelet?

I can't even begin to tell you just how big this event is, so I'll let this video do it for you.

I promise you, citizens of LandoNation, that I will endeavour to update you on all the goings-ons while I am in Las Vegas - assuming that I don't either collapse from exhaustion (or be hospitalised for alcohol poisoning when June 25 comes around).

In the meantime, I'm trying to make sure that I have all my assessment tasks up-to-date for uni before I leave, so I probably won't be able to post again until before I leave (and/or after I arrive). As for the videos, I'll try and get at least one up on the YouTube channel before I go, but with all that's happened (and still happening), I'm just taking it one day at a time.

I'll leave those random thoughts for another day. Right now, it's back to work!