This is always the issue about heading off for the Winter Classic in Vegas: Too many places to go, too many people to see, but never before I check-in to some fleabag hotel...
.... except this time as soon as I hop off the plane there's three different venues to hit up!
First: Hard Rock Café to watch Sweet Sweet Pablo, Minty Fresh Gracie, Columbo, and of course AlCantHang (more tube sock girls, yes please) hitting up the Poker Jingle Charity tournament to benefit the leukemia and lymphoma society. Looks like a lot of Full Tilt and other "name" pros are hitting up this one, great chance to show your stuff and give cash to a worthy cause after check-raising Beth Shak into giving you a picture with her. Yum.
Second: The Pinball Hall of Fame. After checking my flight info, I might be too late for a pinball showdown with the blogfather and Rooster (KA-KAW!!!), but if you're already in Vegas like some fuckers today, hook up with Joaquin for a trip to show off your childhood ability to turn two dollars in quarters into an afternoon of entertainment or lunch money for the rest of the week (like some degenerates did by playing a buck a game with onlookers).
Third: Yardhouse. After at least one shot with he-who-turns-mush-into-viable-government-papers its off to this sizable brew pub that may or may not carry Miller Lite.
Fourth (I'm tired already): Meet up with cousin from Minnesota in Vegas (who will probably be the other person wearing shorts tomorrow in Vegas), maybe see if he'd like to view the maddness of the blogger MGM Mixed Game first hand and knock over my tower of chips before a certain princesses and an evil degenerate who gives back rubs just to get you to call that river check-raise do so.
After all that I'll need a wheelchair ride from something other then stupidly pouring a bottle of Bacardi 151 down my throat.
I always wondered why the gentle folks at Kissing Suzy Kolber were so mean to one Peter King of SI...
"I think despite seven viable MVP canadiates in the NFL right now you have to go with Peyton Manning".
This spew from one Peter King was heard by me (and all the glory of my half-deaf ears) while driving over the last frozen bridge to work while listening to Mike and Mike (which is surprising good imo) heading into hours of nailbiting suspense till I hit the McCarren taramac tomorrow afternoon.
Good god Mr. King, I've had Peyton on my fantasy team (selected first round) all season and have been starting Aaron Rodgers (giving myself 10 lashes to my back each week for a Packer on my squad) every week except the last one. Why? Does one have to dredge up that abomination of a game against the Browns where completing a forward pass seemed as unlikely as Britney Spears heading off to Oslo to pick up her third Nobel Prize for Literature.
I don't see the Colts Quarterback (despite their late run towards the playoffs) jumping off the page as "Most Valuable". Maybe most likely to appear in the next commerical type prop bet while watching football at the MGM on Sunday, but nothing measty about his efforts this year.
Nothing about his season jumps out and says "HE'S THE MAN!". Brenda Warner's porcupine hair wants to have a word with you.
See you tomorrow folks! And to those already there, keep an eye on the shifty Cheesehead StB to leave some Captain for me at the Geisha Bar.