Gray-haired poker TRs: Living the WSOP dream

GL rppoker!

Gl, I will be there 6/10(my bday!) -6/30 and then 7/4-7/13

Errands ... Make America Unhealthy Again ... Too hot in the hot tub

From the cell phone camera of rpphotographer

Quiet day for photos today for two reasons attributable to rppoker: 1) He has errands to run, and 2) other than that he is wimping out because of the heat.

Errand No. 1: Grocery shopping to fill up rppoker's room/refrigerator. Take note of the utter lack of healthy food. He seems to be running for office on the Make America Unhealthy Again ticket.

An amazing sight at the store (Smith's, which rppoker says is superior to Vons in Las Vegas) is the fact that even grocery stores offer gambling in this town.

More grocery pictures ...

Errand No. 2: Go to the bank to get the rest of rppoker's cash. Nothing terribly photo worthy about a bank, but I did see a billboard across the street from the bank that amused me ...

With errands completed, rppoker's schedule called for us to go to Fremont Street. We've never gotten to Fremont Street during past WSOPs, and I for one wanted to go and see the circus that is this iconic location. I hear there are photo opportunities galore.

But noooooooooooo, rppoker wimped out. Said it is too hot. He's such a buzzkill.

Although in fairness to him, the temperature was a scorching ...

... 109 degrees.

When it's this hot, rppoker and his good friend NextDoorLou always say, "It's too hot in the hot tub."

Dinner tonight at Joe's Seafood. Tomorrow morning rppoker jumps into the mean streets of WSOP MTT poker. He's already registered for Day 1D of the $1,500 Monster Stack No-Limit Hold'em.

Best of luck to Professor Pepper!

Curious how you get all those groceries up to the room.

It was 109 degrees and people are crazy ... Guitar Hotel Update ... Caesars Palace photo dump

From the cell phone camera of rpphotographer

It was 109 degrees, what the hell are these people doing outside?

Up to the minute of the Guitar Hotel progress

Dinner at Joe's Seafood at Caesars. rppoker won't let me post the pictures of his dinner. He says that's for his trip report. He's very bossy. In any event, here is my photo dump of time spent on the Caesars property.

People actually paid money to get driven around in an oversized shopping cart?

Jeff Platt hard at work

Featured tables

I took a whole bunch of photos of TonySoprano9 playing in the Big O as they neared the money bubble, but I sent them to Tony and he can decide what/if he'd like to use them.

A $5 tip to a bellman

You didn't buy any firewood?

Best of luck bro! Looking forward to reading about your bracelet journey! Have an awesome time.

From the cell phone camera of rpphotographer

It's late since the night was spent with TonySoprano9 watching hockey, drinking and chatting and there's a tournament to be played tomorrow, so this is a quick photo dump from today.

WSOP retail

Monster Stack, Day 1D

WSOP High Stakes Live, Chris Moneymaker

Josh Arieh, final table

Rampage is crushing that game. Unfortunately the stream sucks.

The Foxens, 25K High Roller NLHE

From the cell phone camera of rpphotographer

My first WSOP dog sighting

This photo makes me happy

A peak behind the curtain of WSOP media coverage

From the cell phone camera of rpphotographer

rppoker says the last photo showing Jeff Platt's drink consumption while on the job takes him back to his days as a sports writer. rppoker also approves of the Dr Pepper can amidst the carnage of Jeff's work area.

From: rppoker
To: Anyone who is currently at the WSOP or is still to arrive at the WSOP
re: Daily Deepstack tournaments at the WSOP

In the past I have been pretty critical of the WSOP Daily Deepstack tournaments. Having played in it the last two days, I have to say that the experience is much better this year.

For starters, the Daily Deepstacks are now in the Horseshoe Events Center as compared to being in the Normandy in recent years. The Event Center is way more spread out and spacious than the Normandy. The Event Center is a better location on a massive scale. It's not even close.

Also, this year my tables were always nine-handed, which is much better than past years when it was 10-handed.

Then there is the temperature. In the Normandy the last couple of years, it was like playing in a sauna. Ridiculously hot. In the Event Center you don't have to worry about being hot. Instead, it is a little bit on the cold side, but wearing a hoodie is all that you need. It's not an ice box. I'd prefer they make it a bit warmer, but it's not terrible.

As for the dealers, not much change from the past. A lot of dealers who have no idea what they are doing. The table is able to police itself when it is clear that the dealer is uncertain what to do. Even on basic things like making change, a bunch of dealers struggle. There are some good dealers but they seem more like the exception. Otherwise, there are a lot of dealers who aren't up to the task. It's not the end of the world. The least experienced dealers have to go somewhere, and the daily deepstack does seem like the most logical place. The really inexperienced dealers really slow down the game. Even shuffling the cards is done really slowly in many cases.

Even with the dealer situation being what it is, the daily deepstacks are much improved in my opinion.

The tools of my trade at the WSOP (sort of a team picture) ...

Back to reality

My WSOP is over. Las Vegas is in my rear view mirror. Whole lotta work to get done.

Daunting Task #1: Today is my first day back in my office, and the work has really piled up while I was away In Las Vegas despite the fact that I kept current with my critical e-mails while away.

Daunting Task #2: I have almost 50,000 words of rough draft material to edit for my trip report before I can start posting.

Thanks. Congrats on your cash.

Just a quick update. I have completely edited my trip report (now more than 53,000 words). I have created my artificial intelligence artwork.

All that I have left to do is finish writing the headlines for each post, which is surprisingly time consuming (I'm two-thirds done). I also have to send pictures taken from my cell phone to my laptop.

Given that tomorrow is Father's Day (lots of family time), I figure I will be ready to start posting in 2-3 days.

Start of 2026 WSOP Trip Report in ... 10 ... 9 ... 8 ...

WSOP 2026: June 4 (Part 1 of 3)[/U]
The journey begins ... I have a plan ... I need a new plan ... The Complaint Department is closed! ... I’m a nice guy, but I’m not THAT nice of a guy ... I find wisdom from Dr. Dre

Travel day. Get from Point A (home) to Point B (Chicago O’Hare Airport) to Point C (the lap of luxury that is the United Club at the airport) to Point D (Las Vegas) to Point E (Poker Glory). Getting from Point A to Point D should be simple. All I have to is get myself on the plane on time. Even I can’t screw that up. Getting to Point E is the tricky part.

I have the driver I always use pick me up an hour earlier than necessary because I have a plan. Not a plan for getting to Point E. I haven’t even left home yet. It’s too ambitious to jump all the way ahead to Plan E (Poker Glory). Let’s just start with a really basic plan to get things started.

But the point being, I am a man with a plan.

The plan is to arrive three hours before my plane leaves, get through security and then go to the United Club where I can get something to eat, plop myself down in a comfy chair that has plenty of open space around it and start typing up my WSOP 2026 intro. I can do this because my credit card gives me two free United Club passes every year. I’ll get to hang out in comfort away from the barbarian horde that overwhelms the gate areas.

I get to the airport and initially everything goes great. I checked in last night for both my boarding pass and luggage. My driver takes me to the last area of my terminal where there is no wait to check my bag. Veteran move. I get to the baggage check and all I have to do is take a picture of a bar code and a bag tag is printed out. Look at me embracing technology.

Next, I go to the pre-TSA area to go through security. The line is not long and then a new lane is opened up right in front of me. I take this short cut and hit a bit of a line but, presto, a new lane opens up right in front of me. This takes me immediately to an agent. I try to give him my boarding pass on my phone, but he says that is not needed. He just needs my driver’s license, which he scans and I am good to go. I get to the carry-on baggage checkpoint, and a new lane is opened up just in front of me. No wait. It’s like something out of a movie where a hacker takes control of traffic lights and his accomplice, driving a car during a scam they are running, gets green light after green light after green light ...

From the time my driver dropped me off up to and until I pass through the security scan area, the whole process has taken five minutes. I’m running good.

I get to my terminal and I have oodles of time. Earlier this morning I made the decision to not bring the book I have been reading, which is a 700+ page monster. I pulled it out of my backpack because a) It is written in a way that I can pick it back up in two weeks without needing to remember what has been read so far, b) the book is heavy and I don’t want to deal with the weight in my backpack, and c) I will not be able to finish it on my flight and there’s no way I’ll pick it up the entire time I am in Las Vegas.

Still, I’d like something to read on the plane, so I go in search of magazines. I stop at three different shops that would seemingly sell magazines (i.e. Hudson News), but they only have food for sale. Strange. Finally, I find a store that sells books and magazines. I buy Sports Illustrated and Forbes.

Next stop, the United Club to lounge in comfort. I get there and The Plan suffers a setback. I am not welcome with my “one-time pass.”




Bad beat. They have reached capacity and the likes of me (one-time users AKA riff-raff) have been sent away much like someone in Group 7 of a plane boarding who will not be able to bring a carry-on bag onto the flight. The guy in charge suggests I either go to another terminal (I’m not walking that far) or come back in half-an-hour (sigh).

This reminds me of something my dad had framed and on his office wall when he was still alive. It was a small sign from a hotel that said ‘Shoeshine service available, will be returned next morning.” My dad called to get his shoes shined and he was told that the shoe shine service was not currently available. My dad took the shoeshine sign, had it put inside a frame and put it up on his wall. When I asked him to explain the meaning of this odd sign on his wall, he said, “It’s a reminder to me to never promise something and not deliver.”

OK, back to my United Club setback. I’ve got a Plan B. I go to the Billy Goat in the terminal food court.




Back in the day, I worked for the Chicago Sun Times for one year. Close by was the original Billy Goat restaurant down a dark, foreboding street. The Billy Goat was a favorite hangout for reporters and editors of the Chicago Sun Times and Chicago Tribune. For those of you old enough to remember, there was a famous Saturday Night Live skit based on the Billy Goat. I loved the place’s great cheeseburgers.




So, I get to the airport Billy Goat, there is no line, which is surprising, and I order a double cheeseburger. The guy responds, no cheeseburgers now, breakfast only. This is really surprising because 1) I am sure I have ordered a cheeseburger here in the past in the morning, and 2) this is blasphemy to someone who used to go to the original Billy Goat where I am almost certain cheeseburgers were available any time.

Bad beat.

I walk around the terminal looking for somewhere to eat, but I don’t love any of the options. Before I settle, I decide to walk back to the United Club and see if it is less busy.

I get there and the go away sign is gone. I am no longer riff-raff, and I’m welcomed with open arms.

Look at me, a man with a plan ...

... and I love it when a plan comes together.

As someone who sat at the table next to rp in the Colossus I can confirm he was studiously taking notes in that notebook. Probably why his TR's are so damn good!

WSOP 2026: June 4 (Part 2 of 3)
I contemplate my 2026 WSOP goals ... Do I aim high? ... Do I aim low? ... Do I aim reasonable? ... A memory of training side-by-side a future Olympics legend ... Wisdom from Kurt Vonnegut ... I overdo the goal setting ... I get the goal setting just right

While still flying to Las Vegas, my thoughts turn to the journey I am about to embark upon. As my 2026 WSOP is about to begin, it seems like a time to identify my goal for the two weeks in which I will compete. I could say I want to make a final table, but let’s be real. Playing in huge field events, and only four of them, calling my shot that I want to make a final table seems massively over optimistic. I could say my goal is to run deeper than I’ve gone before, but my previous best is the top 6%. To run that deep I not only have to play my very best but I’ve got to win key flips and avoid coolers. I can’t control the flips. I can’t control coolers. I think if I want to have a reasonable goal or even an aggressive goal, I think it should be to play well, run deep and see what that means. Which is kind of boring.

OK, fine. Gotta do better for the trip report. All that said, what should be my goal? In my first WSOP, the closest I came to making the money was an event where I got very near the money bubble on Day 2 but crashed out of the tournament when my set of queens lost to a set of aces. Brutal cooler. No way to avoid going bust. In my second WSOP, I cashed in an event where I limped into the money with mere crumbs.

Last year I made my deepest WSOP run, making the money with a smallish but playable chip stack. I lasted for quite a while after that, finishing in the top 6%. I finished inside the top 1,000 of an 18,000+ person event.

Obviously, any goal should entail accomplishing something I haven’t done before. That would be finishing top 5% or better. Or it could be two cashes in a single WSOP. But given the fact that I only play in four events (multiple bullets as needed) that are huge field tournaments, either of those goals seems to me like I would be getting over my skis and really overly ambitious. Is it possible? Sure. But it is very far from likely.

I have an idea.

Cashing in one event two years ago was surprising and quite possibly a fluke. Making the money again a year ago made it two straight WSOPs with a cash, which is a streak albeit a very, very short streak.

That brings me to WSOP 2026. If I cash again this year, that would make it three WSOPs in a row.

It brings to mind a line from the movie Major League where the manager, Lou Brown, says, “OK, we won a game yesterday. If we win today, it’s called two in a row. And if we win again tomorrow, it’s called a winning streak.”

Three years of cashing in a row. That’s the goal. Three years straight is a legitimate winning streak. More importantly, I think it means that I belong.

I belong.

I like the way that sounds. Like it a lot. I’d love to be able to say that. Yep, that’s the goal. Make the money a third straight year, and, in my mind, I will have proven that I belong.

That’s my goal. That’s my target.

And here’s the thing. I don’t feel any pressure to achieve the goal. Perhaps that’s because I already feel like I belong. I’m not claiming to be a killer, but I feel in my element. I feel like I can handle whatever I will face. Yep, I feel like I belong. That is really freeing.

As Jonathan Little said in an interview on poker.org, “A lot of people get overly amped up to go play poker. They think that if they lose, they are a failure in life.”

(https://www.poker.org/latest-news/every-...)

I tell myself not to make this mistake.

I’m playing to have fun. But that doesn’t mean I’m averse to succeeding at reaching the goal of three straight WSOPs with a cash. Maybe it’s not a big goal compared to players whose goal is to win a bracelet. But it is a worthy goal for an amateur player whose volume is miniscule compared to what most WSOP players have put in. Yes, I’ve put in more volume the past 12 months than I’ve done before, but it’s still not a ton of volume. I have a career outside of poker, and I play in the WSOP for sheer love of the game.

It’s what makes the WSOP so great. So many people compete at so many different levels with so many different goals.

This takes me back to the summer of 1977. This will get a little convoluted, but bear with me. There will be a point. Eventually. If you’ve been following along you know that I use a lot of words, but you also know I eventually get to the point. Eventually.

During the spring of my freshman year of high school I had dislocated my hip. I was hospitalized for two weeks while morphine was pumped into my body for the pain, and then I was on crutches for the next three months. I got off crutches just as the school year was ending. On my first day off crutches, I went to the high school outdoor track/football field. I made it half way around the quarter-mile track and had to stop. The atrophy was massive. I had a lot of work and training ahead of me that summer to prepare for my sophomore season on the high school cross country team.

I went to overnight sports camp that summer in Wisconsin. On a typical day I would play in three different league games (softball, volleyball, basketball, soccer), play someone in tennis/take a tennis lesson or play in a pickup basketball game during a free period, etc. But I also did something that none of the other campers had on their daily schedule. I had to train for the Fall cross country season. The head counselor would wake me up an hour before Reveille was played to wake up the rest of the camp. I would get up and head for the far fields of the camp where three soccer fields were side-by-side-by-side and I would run lap after lap after lap until I had put in six miles. It was against the rules for me to run off camp grounds, so my only option was to run the same tedious repetition of laps in solitude every single morning when even the birds were probably still silently sleeping.

One early morning, to my surprise, there was someone else out there. It was a guy with massive thighs working out doing strange lunges while dragging something heavy looking that was behind him and tethered to his waist. I ran my laps. He did his peculiar looking lunges and other training that was unrecognizable to me. He was old enough to be a junior or youngish senior counselor, but he wasn’t a counselor. I had no idea who he was. We did not interact. We were two guys committed to putting in the grind in solitude and obscurity.

At lunch that day, Lunge Guy was introduced to the rest of the camp. He was friends with one of the counselors of the camp, was visiting and was in the process of training for the Winter Olympics that were a few years away in an obscure event. His name was given, but it was not a name I recognized. I did not give it a second thought.

Three years later, his name would mean something. His name was Eric Heiden. He would go on to win five gold medals in speed skating in the 1980 Winter Olympics. The greatest single Winter Olympics any athlete had ever had. For a few very early mornings at a summer camp in Wisconsin we shared the same turf. Just the two of us. Putting in the grind while everyone else at the camp was sound asleep. Trying to accomplish very different things. I was coming back from a devastating injury trying to prepare for high school cross country season. An unknown who would remain an unknown. He was preparing for an Olympics that was three years away. An unknown who would become a legend known worldwide.

That is what I think the WSOP is in a nutshell. It is a place where a ton of unknowns on different trajectories (some who’ll remain unknown at one end and some who are on the path to becoming legends at the other end) can all share the same turf. Plus, we get to share the same turf with already known stars. There are a lot, A LOT, of different stories playing out. And for every single player, their individual story matters to them.

For my individual story, I think an anecdote about renowned science fiction writer Kurt Vonnegut spending a month working on an archeological dig when he was 15 years old summarizes what the WSOP is for me (Source: https://www.coleschafer.com/blog/kurt-vo...

“(Vonnegut) once told a story of how he was talking to one of the archeologists one day over lunch and the archeologist was bombarding him with all of the typical get to know you questions ...

“ ‘Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject?’ “

“Vonnegut told the archeologist that while he didn’t play in any sports he was in theater, choir, played violin and piano and used to take art classes.

“The archeologist was impressed.

“ ‘Wow. That’s amazing.’

“To which Vonnegut responded ...

“ ‘Oh no, but I’m not good at ANY of them.’

“And this is where the archeologist said something to Kurt Vonnegut that Vonnegut would later say changed the trajectory of his thinking ...

“(The archeologist said) ‘I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all of these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.’ “

Yes, me playing in WSOPs does make me seem interesting to people. Certainly more interesting than my business life is to people. Hadn’t thought of this. It’s not why I play poker, but I guess I can see that doing outside-the-box things like playing in a WSOP is part of the path to a life well lived.

The headline for the article in which the above story was told was, "Being good at things isn't the point of doing them."

And then, out of nowhere, a distinctively different thought suddenly pops into my head ...

It’s my time.

I can’t defend this feeling based upon my past results. I can’t really explain this surge in confidence intellectually. It’s not a feeling I’ve ever had before as a poker player. It’s just something I feel. It comes across my mind like a thunderbolt.

It’s my time.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I have lost sight of the bigger picture. I am letting the tail wag the dog. Bad, rppoker, bad! I did not embark on this journey to become a professional poker player. I embarked on this journey to do something cool, to do something I enjoy. Sure, I can work to improve my game, but I cannot, I should not, require results to dictate whether the journey is a success. Famed basketball coach John Wooden used to famously say that “the journey is more important than the final destination.”

The journey is all that matters. Yeah, much better.

Let my 2026 WSOP begin. This is my story ...

WSOP 2026: June 4 (Part 3 of 3)
My plane lands and my non-poker life intrudes ... Unpacking a trip achievement I failed to accomplish one year earlier ... Dinner with TJ Eckleburg12 at Carversteak ... The most decadent dish IÂ’ll eat all trip

My work responsibilities do not cooperate.

My plane lands, and my cell phone blows up.

When I left work at the end of the day yesterday, I was completely caught up. I thought there would be smooth sailing regarding work staying out of the way of my poker trip. Man plans, God laughs.

The first voice mail had to do with my mom. I fill her pill boxes, and as a result when she sees a doctor I go with. Her doctor visit the other day determined she should see a neurologist. For some reason the neurologist's office called me to make the appointment, which doesn't work because my mom makes her own appointments. I forwarded Mrs. rppoker the information and asked her to work this out with my mom. Problem solved.

The next voice mail was from the leasing broker I use for a strip center in which a major tenant will be leaving because HQ decided to close their stores in a large chunk of the midwest. The store in my strip center was actually doing well, but it got caught up in the undertow of problems elsewhere for the brand.

The leasing broker has been in promising negotiations with a big-name tenant. If the deal goes through it will be a home run. I figure that is what he is calling about. So I am highly motivated to get back to him. I wait until I get off the plane to try to call him back because of a) the volume of all the other people on the plane talking, and b) I don't want to have the conversation for the whole world to hear. I get off the plane and call. Voice mail.

I head down to baggage claim. The luggage takes quite a while to arrive, but when it finally starts unloading there is no sign of my suitcase. Next thing I know, the number of people at the carousel is one. Me. Alone. Seriously? I have to deal with a lost suitcase? I head toward the Desk of Unhappiness to report my bag missing, but then I see a section of suitcases sitting out separate from everything else. Then it hits me. I arrived at the airport early, so they sent my suitcase on an earlier flight. I hate when they do that because you never figure it out until after all the bags on your flight get picked up and you are all alone empty-handed. I find my bag. Crisis averted. And there was much relief.

Bag in hand, I start walking toward the car rental bus while trying to call my leasing broker. Once again, voice mail.

I get to the Alamo desk, and the line is mercifully short. I fill out the paperwork, and I start walking toward to car pickup, while once again trying to call the leasing broker. Again, voice mail.

I get my car, drive out of the airport and arrive at the Signature where I am staying. I intentionally chose the flight I did because I knew check-in is 4:00 p.m. and it has not been negotiable in past years when I have stayed at the same hotel. I arrive at 4:15 p.m. Perfect timing. There is no line, and I quickly find myself in my mini suite.

I do not have a picture of the view because I don't think I spent 30 seconds all trip soaking in the view.

I try one last time to reach my leasing broker and -- chime in if you've heard this before -- voice mail. I leave a message saying I will try to reach him tomorrow.

I then turn my attention to something I failed to accomplish during last year's WSOP. I never got around to unpacking my suitcase, instead just pulling out clothing each day. I vow that I will act like a grownup this year, and as soon as I start unzipping my suitcase my cell phone rings. It is my leasing broker.

I figure he is simply calling with an update on the leasing negotiations. He is not. He is calling to say that someone has offered to buy the property. The offer is on the low end of acceptable if the soon to be vacant space is unleased. But if we get the big-name tenant we are talking with to the finish line the property will be worth way, way more than the prospective buyer is offering. It is a complicated analysis given there are so many uncertainties. It takes a little over an hour to discuss, but my response is to take the risk of getting the big-name tenant to the finish line.

I am very aware of a fascinating analysis of my willingness to embrace risk and variance. We are talking big numbers. The varying ranges are very different. I do not hesitate. I am fine with it. What is fascinating is that in business I am OK with this, whereas in a $500-$1,500 poker tournament my biggest leak is I do not take enough risk. I guess the difference is that in real estate I possess the strength of a lot of experience, whereas in poker my volume -- despite my efforts to put in the time -- is still very small.

My leasing agent wants to firm up all of the back of the napkin numbers we just threw around and then get back to me probably sometime next week for further discussion.

The call concludes. I just ate up a bunch of time that wasn't part of the plan. The suitcase will not get unpacked right now. I have a 9:00 p.m. dinner reservation with TJ Eckleburg12. I want to get my cash deposited in my WSOP account. It's a little tight, but I think I can still get it done. I grab a cab to the Paris, get to the cage area and there is only one person in line ahead of me. I am back on schedule.

I cab it back to my hotel.

I have enough time to unpack, which I get done. Remember, last year I never got around to unpacking. This year I have unpacked like an adult. Already I have accomplished something I failed to do at last year's WSOP. Hendon Mob does not acknowledge this achievement.

I try to order a cab through the bar code at the bell stand. It does not work. I ran into the same problem earlier. The bellman has the security gate turn on the light that can hail a cab. This works, although much slower that what I have experienced in past WSOPs when I have stayed at this hotel. The bellman hypothesizes that either the bar code is not working or there has been an influx of more people than usual today. Whatever the reason, I really hope I don't have to deal with this with regularity the next two weeks.

I get to Resorts World where I have a reservation at Carversteak for TJ and me.

I am early so I wander around for a while. Soon enough, 9:00 rolls around and TJ arrives. We get seated and it feels like we have been close friends for decades. We have all the same interests. College football in particular leading to an SEC (him) versus Big Ten (me) discussion. I immediately concede that prior to the last three seasons, there was nothing to debate. The SEC was king! It's not even arguable. But the last three seasons the Big Ten has won the national title. Trend or a mere blip? No way to tell. But we do discuss the reason why the Big Ten has won the last three national titles, and we conclude that it seems to be NIL related.

It's not just college football we discuss. We talk sports beyond football. And then of course there is the poker. We both love to play. We both love to write trip reports. We both love to read other people's trip reports. We talk on and on about poker.

To be clear, I have no illusions that I am on TJ's level. He is the far superior player. He is the far more accomplished player. He has a ton more volume than I do. None of that seems to matter. While our poker goals may be very different, our love of the game is the same. What helps the conversation is that TJ is a willing participant in discussing poker concepts at my level. We talk about the importance of a cash to a player like me and how far I should be pushing the envelope near the money bubble. We talk about my aggressiveness in Level 1 when the table is short-handed. We talk about me needing to 3-bet light more often. We talk about all kinds of areas I need to improve. TJ is a great teacher in that he is able to see the game through my eyes, share his experience and do so in a way that I can absorb.

We talk about a whole ton of other stuff. It is that rare first meeting where the conversation never -- not for a second -- runs out of gas. No uncomfortable pauses where you run out of things to talk about.

I don't know what my WSOP 2026 has in store for me, but I can already say that tonight's dinner was and will continue to be a highlight of my trip.

The reason I chose Carversteak months ago for tonight's dinner (I asked TJ to join me more recently) is a signature dish on the menu. The lobster en croute. It's a two-pound lobster with a Beef Wellington like pastry shell topped with a creamy Cognac sauce. I gave TJ a sample, and he described it as decadent. That is the perfect word. Actually, in his trip report, he wrote DECADENT. All caps! I think I gained two pounds just looking at it. Gained another two pounds eating it. And my cholesterol, blood pressure and anything else that can be measured probably skyrocketed. I have spent months anticipating this meal and it not only lived up to the hype, it exceeded it.

I have Leon to thank for this. He strongly suggested a couple of years ago that I incorporate more good food into my trips, and I have tried to do so the first two nights of my WSOPs ever since before I get deep into tournament mode where you can't make dinner reservations ahead of time.

Just a great night. Great conversation. Great food.