Hands of God

Yellowtail, my lucky place to eat.

The best way to recover from a 6.30am wake up call after 3 hours sleep to watch football is to head to the Bellagio spa and get all the stresses and strains massaged out of you. Following the football theme my masseuse Maria was a ringer for Diego Maradona but she had 2 hands of God and I’m glowing more than a Dale Winton fake tan.

Its interesting to be in the States whilst the World Cup is on. The Americans can’t make it out, the refereeing that is. They scratch their heads then mock. It actually might be a good thing, they are defo way more into football than on previous visits and if they get more involved globally they won’t stand for letting some gimp in a yellow shirt make 'history changing' decisions on a guess. Hopefully if Fifa refuse to budge the bigger countries will act as the English teams did with the FA and just set up a new organisation with improvements.

There have been some standard tales of inglorious excesses coupled with complete disasters reaching my ears on a daily basis and one has to be careful, as I spoke off earlier, one of Vegas charms is her goofy ways and multiple moods but fuck with her and she bite’s hard, harder than some people can ever recover from. It’s fair to say I picked up a few love bites from her in years gone by but I treat her and myself with a lot more respect these days and things have worked out for us; we are back very much in love.

Having said all that I had to manoeuvre myself around a potential accident spot the other evening. I was invited to a party at a private Villa. The Villa was a mind blower and the freeze booze was going down a storm. There were was a great atmosphere I’m a pretty good reader of people; collectively the temperature in the room was at ‘we are going to let our hair down tonight’. I’ve been in these situations before and their great fun but you need 5 days off afterwards curled up in your blacked out hotel room eating waist increasing comfort food and watching mind numbing rom coms at $20 a pop. As the charge to the night club began (to get really warmed up), I went to play poker, the most beautiful feature of Vegas for me.

Now I think about it the only thing I didn’t like about the Spa was the fact that in the steam room the men all sit naked, just openly letting it hang out, (why? use a towel). I’d already viewed enough pricks representing England, and I didn’t need to look at any more and i started to thaw as the first wave of blinding steam hit my face.

Eating Endangered Species

Diner at next table & ex Chelsea centre forward. Therefore part Legend.

Dining out alone wouldn’t be something I do a lot of generally but out here I love it and for many different reasons. Chiefly the food but the random stranger you get sat next to is always good value in Vegas. The other night I munched on Japanese fusion tapas next to a coke addled millionaire Kiwi and three Ladies from California. All this whilst getting served by a flirty Naomi Campbell (or her twin) meant I had an extra glass of Pinot that wasn’t budgeted for but hey, sometimes you gotta kick back a little.

The food here is one of the reasons I keep coming back. I like fine dining and you get the best value in the world here. 5 dear friends of mine ate at the Wynn’s signature Japanese eatery where the service is excellent and the food spectacular. It was an evening of great entertainment in great surroundings with a sumptuous meal thrown in all for less than the cost of a show ticket. One must always be careful in Vegas if food is not part of your holiday money (which also makes Vegas so great as you can eat good food for almost nothing). Last year a well known Irish poker player was going for a burger, met Nicky Power who said he was joining a few of us for a Burger at the Wynn. The poor chap wasn’t informed that the burger would be in the Wynn’s signature steakhouse in the company of some of people who were ordering Sashimi Dolphin covered in Egyptian swan feather dust and that was just for starters. The look on his face when he received his share of the bill would have raised millions for charity.

He could have course joined in the craze of spoofing for dinner. Spoofing is http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20080627022757AA5Tm2p

And if you can’t be arsed to read the above your basically gambling for who pays the bill. Anyone who thinks their good at poker thinks their good at spoof because of nonsense like soul reads and tells. There’s only one bit of skill in the game, make sure you always have dinner with Marty Smyth.

It's Win Wynn

Played the Wynn course twice and made par on this hole both times. Think the big stage suits me.

I've never licked Dom Pérignon Rosé Vintage 1959 from Kelly Brooks thighs but I can imagine it would be a very similar feeling to the one I got as I was about to tee off on the first at the Wynn Golf course. I have been lucky enough over the last few years to play some of the best courses in the world and this one ranks right up there for me. To create this spectacular Augusta like course in the middle of the desert and then have it sitting empty most of the day could only happen in Las Vegas (or perhaps Dubai), another glorious example of excess. The reason it’s empty is due to the price (it’s cheaper to buy that bottle of Dom P and hire Kelly Brooke for the night) but when you’ve had a little touch as I did on my first day here in town, its only right to treat oneself.

When I was first started coming here regularly I couldn’t find anyone interested in playing a game of golf, “it’s too hot, I’m in a tournament, I’ can’t be arsed”, these days the opponents are flying in specifically for the golf and the fact the world series of poker is on just seems like an additional bonus. Of course being in Vegas, surrounded by poker players playing golf can only lead to one thing, arguing for hours about your handicap and then betting on your swing and nerve. I’ve only once before played a game for more money than I could afford to lose and I choked more than a fluffer at an Annabel Chong world record; luckily for me my opponent was a bigger bottler. In the coming days I will be stepping up to the tee box in a heavily wagered golf match (against one John O’Shea), a game arranged a year ago after plenty of banter and even more cocktails. Contrary to popular rumour I didn’t leave my job as it was interfering with my practise but the stakes are high for me and I’m revelling in the challenge. I love prop bets and whatever the outcome I’m certain this will lead to a few new ones for next year.

As well as John I have a rematch with usual foe Tristan. Rory Brown & partner seem to be running scared. The big one is the team match of me and Julian v Marty and Nicky. Last year’s matches saw everything bar punches exchanged at a variety of courses with us Brits humbling our Irish opponents by overcoming their mind games and dubious interpretation of rules & ethics that would make Thierry Henry blush etc. with a glorious display of flawless golf performed with immaculate sporting manners and I’m sure everyone is hoping for the same result this year.

Many pots have been simmering and now it’s steam time. Being in Vegas with the U.S.A. qualifying and us scrapping over the line only to find our next opponents Germany. Will be mind blowing being here in the heart of one of the things I most love about Vegas, her blood line. There is not a place on the planet that has so many diversities mixed up together in any one hour and now they all love football. I was in the Bellagio sports book for one of the greatest superbowls ever http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Super_Bowl_XXXIV and it’s a proper buzz knowing Sunday has the potential to top that.

Vegas 2010 Day 3

4 hours till kick off. I'm on the 8th floor, middle right

I’m back with an old girlfriend, same ol same ol. Vegas and I go way way back. I'd dreamt of her since a small boy influenced by TV and Elvis. At 24 I managed to scramble a bank roll together and the plan of going with my mate Billy for 3 weeks, to meet my dream girl and make my fortune. I lost half my bankroll before I checked in. There was a long queue for check in; we were all off an air tours direct package from Manchester staying at the Aladdin. All I’d seen of Vegas was on TV the blackjack and free booze, let the love affair begin. The highlight of the trip was on the last night. I’d hid my last $200 bucks of my tank from Billy, things were that bad. His idea of Vegas was the same as mine and we were both to find out the hard way that if you don’t treat her right, Vegas is not just a cruel mistress, she’s far worse. I sprung the $200 on him on our last night and made a deal, he was to get $50 for presents, trinkets for his kids. Our gambling tank was $50 between us for the night and with the rest we were to go and blow on a slap up steak night, Vegas style. In hindsight my budgeting wasn’t the best. We sat in our seats and as I stared at the menu surrounded by I love Las Vegas tee shirts for all sizes I could feel the vibe and knew what was coming. “Paul I don’t really fancy this food stuff, can I have my half of the meal and catch u later?” Off he went and I dined alone in a somewhat shabby booth gulping a cheap red wine and missing my girlfriend (the real one back in Rochdale). As I stared at a desert I never wanted or was about to leave behind Billy sprung up to the booth with a popcorn sized bucket of coins and a big grin on his saintly face. It turned out Billy’s system of playing video keno had finally paid off, a combination of kids numbers birthdays wives etc. $1200 in quarters sat in that bucket and the beginning of a love affair that still exists today.