I can count the number of times I've been drunk on one hand. Some of you probably think that's rather sad, but it's not a big deal for me. I could drink if I wanted to. My family has a fine history of good drinkers (anyone who's bellied up to the bar with my Dad or brother would know that, right G-Vegas?). [Ed note: My sister can drink, too.]
The last time I was drunk it was my going away party before leaving for Lafayette, LA. The fine folks in Greenville decided I needed to drink... a lot. G-Rob was my personal bartender it seemed (which is never a good idea). If you don't know, I'm not a fan of shots. And I can't count how many shots of Goldschlager (don't ask) I did that night, but the bottle was empty and I figured I was done.
Until G-Rob approached me with a full shot glass of a dark liquid. It was Jager. I was too drunk to decline (despite screams of horror from my stomach), and when the liquid touched my tongue, my stomach had enough. Next stop: the bathroom. (If G-Rob decides to embellish I threaten to pull out the Champagne story.)
Oh, and someday I'll tell you about the fruit bowl of Vodka.
The Sportsbook
This all brings me to a magical morning in the Mandalay sports book. I didn't get a wink of sleep the night before and I hoped to get there in time to secure comfy seats. No luck. Eventually BG and On_THG met me. They had a prop bet going on number of bloggers who beat them there. BG had the over and lost. [Ed note: BG had the under and won.]
We snagged some seats in the horse racing area and BG began showing off his knowledge. Unfortunately, it didn't translate into much in the way of winnings for him. It's not that he didn't know (because his analysis was staggering at times), but the tickets always seemed to be just one off. It was a tough run for him, but I'd take his word on the ponies any day.
Of course, I ran up to the window with a $1 2-3-4 exacta box and it cashed for $90 when the 50-1 shot came in second. There was no analysis there.
And then it happened. The horse that changed my weekend.
Too Drunk to Call
I'm not sure who saw the name first, but I think it might have been Donkeypuncher. But with a name like Too Drunk to Call, I think AlCantHang would have kicked our ass for not playing it. [Ed note: The Princess spied Too Drunk to Call, which means Donkeypuncher spotted Mr. Otis, the 40-1 shot we all lost money on.]
I decided on another exacta box. I put Too Drunk with the two favorites. They're loading the gates and dozens of bloggers are waiting in breathless anticipation. Suddenly, we see the 1 horse running around without a jockey and then we hear the 2 horse busted through the starting gate. Both would be late scratches. The 2 was the favorite, and on my ticket.
I ran up to the window and replaced the 2 on my ticket with the 5 horse. I had no good reason, but I also didn't have a lot of time.
Soon, they were off, and miraculously, Too Drunk went wire-to-wire and the 5 horse finished placed. It was a $189 exacta. My gambling weekend was turned on a dime.
The Second-Half Bets
The NFL betting wasn't going as well. I played a few early game parlays and put some money on the Jags to upset the Colts. I knew the Jags would cover, but I put some cash on the money line. Unfortunately, the early games were not good to me.
I did, however, bet four second half lines and I won three of them. I think the 2nd half lines are one of the best bets in Vegas.
When the late games rolled around, I hit one of my three parlays and won 5 out of 6 second half bets. Had my Eagles pulled off the upset in overtime, I would have won two more money line bets there, too. Instead, it was a tidy sports gambling profit for me.
Shouldn't I Be Playing Poker?
Thus far in the trip, I'd played very little poker. I mean, I sat at lots of tables, but that's different. There was a $125 tourney at the MGM Sunday night, and I wanted to give it a shot. I ran back to the hotel to change and headed to the monorail for the MGM
That's when the call from Otis came and I found out the tourney was full. I was really disappointed. He said the alternate list was full, too, but he could get me on an alternate-alternate list (whatever that means). Dejected, I told him to go ahead, but that I'd likely find a NL game when I got there.
When I finally arrived, I found out I was the 18th alternate. Not a good way to start. The finish, however, was a thing of magic...