My friend Anne appears on "As the World Turns" this afternoon as the compassionate nurse who makes sure Grand Dame Lucinda Walsh is "taken care of."

Anne was in a comedy of mine where she played the infant-fearing girlfriend of a guy who has a baby daughter, embodied in a 200-pound grown man wearing pink pajamas. All of the budget went to the crib (an Eddie Bauer crib at the Salvation Army), so the pink pajamas unfortunately weren't the shocking pink I had in mind and instead looked like normal pajamas. It shared the bill with a play by David Henry Hwang, so I was in very esteemed company.

I mention "As the World Turns" just in case anyone might be able to record a .WAV (2 p.m. EST). I'm without cable and TV reception, so I'll pop by a casino bar and try to convince them to switch off their pesky sports and tune to a soap. Think that'll go over with the gambling drinkers? Hmmm... maybe a sportsbook with their little TVs would let me pick up other stations.

§
Put the car into the shop yet again and the battery light problem resulted in needing a new battery (my five years were up before I took it cross-country) as well as a new alternator, charging the battery to just 11 volts.

I'm now on a first-name basis with my mechanic, Hutch, who recognizes his handiwork like Van Gogh because he chops something off each time to ensure I return the car in a few weeks.

And he had the nerve to ask why I hadn't gotten license plates yet.

I had a choice between a 3-year and a 7-year battery, and with the difference only $30, I went with the 7. I don't expect the car to last another 3 years, so I'm not sure why I took the upsell. $30 will buy an awful lot of shrimp cocktails.

That adds another $900 to repairs this year, totaling a little over $4000 that I've sunk into the car since I moved. Very distressing. Had I known the car would require this many repairs and with what I've lost this year gambling, I should've given away the car in DC and bought a new one once I arrived in Vegas. Hindsight.

After the repairs, I went to Sunset Station and picked up my free Barber-in-a-Box (a haircutting kit), then settled in for nine hours of poker at the 3/6/9. Would've played longer but the table broke, which it often does whenever shorthanded. People don't like playing shorthanded, even though worse hands play better short than full and even though the rake is dropped to $1 max or even zero. That's one aspect that's better than online; if you get down to five people, the floor will often decrease the rake.

Shortly after I sat down, a guy sat a couple seats to my right and began raising every hand preflop. If someone reraised, he would 3bet. If 3bet, he would cap.

People caught on and tried trapping, but it didn't work and soon it was common for the flop to be seen capped seven ways. It was also common for just top or middle pair to take down the big pot.

Swings were huge, but if you could manage to win a pot you'd win your money back fast.

Pots were so huge that it made it worth calling if you had a draw or any piece of the flop.

I began playing hands that I more tend to play in no-limit -- small suited and one-gap connectors. I didn't want the impression of being too tight, because if I came in for a raise, people would fold.

I lost every hand except one that I played against the maniac, mostly him hitting his trips or two pair on the river.

One hand I had against him had me with QQ. It was capped as usual preflop, and the flop gave me a Q but also two hearts. He bet out and I made the mistake of just calling when I should've raised. This let a couple more people in to possibly draw for cheap (I suspect if they were calling, they would've called a raise as well).

The turn gave another heart -- no straight possibility. When the maniac bet out, this time I raised and got the others to fold.

The river put out a fourth heart, and when he checked, I checked behind. Against someone else, I would've bet hoping they'd fold a small heart. The maniac wasn't folding regardless, and I figured I'd save $9. 'Course, I'd also lose that $9 in the event he didn't have a heart.

The set held up and he didn't have a heart. The two people who folded both said "good raise," because they did. It was a good raise, but one card too late.

After he busted, people began leaving, then the table broke.

I was never up more than $40 and at one point I was down $160. I left down $111, which I didn't feel too badly about.

I can't, however, continue playing this limit if I'm relying on it to pay the rent.

Bellagio is still too crowded and Wynn and Mirage are annoying to get to.

Green Valley Ranch caters to a higher clientele, and I'm hoping once their poker room opens (supposedly July, but I've heard they've pushed it back), they'll offer at least 10/20 or no-limit, which Sunset only spreads on weekends with a mammoth waiting list and one table.

I'm no longer playing online, so I'll need to be selective in where I play live.

§
The Thursday that the bloggers were in town, I'd met my cousin Deanna at Sahara before going to lunch. That was actually the first time I'd been to Sahara. It seemed reminiscent of a boxy Atlantic City casino, somewhere in between downtown and a resort Strip casino.

I hear constantly from other poker players that Sahara has the best no-limit hold'em tournaments in town, so I took in a couple on Sunday. Tournaments, that is.

From what I've seen, I'll be back.

They spread three every day -- 11 a.m., 7 p.m., and 11 p.m. All are $42 with an optional $20 rebuy.

Best of all, they offer free sub sandwiches at the first break. Looked at another way, if you're knocked out, they're $62 sandwiches. You have to be in the know for this, because it's well-hidden in the back of the poker room. I didn't think anything until I saw people walking around with similar sandwiches and no nearby deli. Like tracking ants, I found where they were grazing.

Play is exceptionally soft. Probably the worst play I've seen, and that's saying a lot. I saw people calling down raisers to the river with Ace high. Not even a draw.

And those draws -- you can't get people to fold. If you bet all-in on the flop and a bad player has a flush or open-ended straight draw, he will see the large amount of chips to be won, assume "pot odds" are now in his favor, and he will call.

My final hand of the 11 a.m. tourney happened before the second break. Someone went all-in at 4x the blinds and the chip leader called.

I had AQs. The correct play would've been to raise all-in to isolate. I had just been moved to the table and didn't know what the chip leader was capable of and I figured I'd take a flop.

Well, there goes me trying to justify. I flat-out made a mistake in not re-raising all-in.

The flop came A-2-x.

The chip leader bet the minimum.

Now I went all-in. Another mistake, because I could be dead to AK. A raise would be better to see where I am.

Chip leader insta-called and showed A2o.

No help for me on the remaining cards, and I'm out with no one to blame but myself.

The person who went all-in, by the way, had K-10. Later in the 7 p.m. tourney, I saw someone call an all-in with K-10. Final table and shortstacked, I understand... but first hour and average chipstack?

As I left, I heard people tell the A2o guy that he'd be at the final table for sure. I almost doubled him up, and he was chip leader to begin with.

Just for my own satisfaction, I checked back in a couple hours and he had already busted out.

§
I counted quite a few hours remaining before 7 o'clock.

Not a lot you can do in a casino, so after walking around, I picked up a player's card, earned 100 points (at an awful $10 playthrough per point) playing slots, and got a free buffet.

Hung out upstairs gorging for awhile, then back downstairs for some blackjack.

I heard Sahara had introduced a game called Blackjack Surrender, but I didn't see it anywhere. In that game, you get the option of winning a guaranteed half-bet if you show a 20 and the dealer shows a 10 (and no blackjack). My luck, I'd take this player insurance every time.

Discovered that the monorail brochure they're handing out contains a coupon for $50 in non-negotiable chips for $40. An instant 15 percent return sounded good to me, so I tried it out.

You bring the coupon and $40 to the cashier, and they give you $50 in blue chips to play at a table game (no poker).

Many casinos offer something similar, usually with Win Cards (rules and strategy cards for blackjack, craps, and roulette). Their marketing is toward first-time gamblers or to entice slot players to try out the tables.

What was different about Sahara was that they didn't ask for my ID or player's card (where at other casinos they can mark your account to let them know you've already taken advantage of the offer). They simply accepted the coupon and my $40, then gave me $50 with a smile.

The coupon stated "one coupon per visit." Per visit to the cage, is how I would stretch that restriction. And a few hours later (to try to catch a different cashier), I made another visit with another coupon and another $40.

Played blackjack with the chips to get myself on the Sahara radar. With some concentrated slot and table play in one day, I'm hoping to get slot tournament offers and maybe even a free room so I could stay there while playing at Wynn.

Then hopped in a lousy 2/4 game until the 7 p.m. tourney. The dealer kept making mistakes: forgetting to deal the button a second card, not realizing someone had raised, thinking someone was still in a hand.

The 7 p.m. tourney attracted 158 players with 149 rebuys. Top 11 cashed, with first place receiving $3044, second getting $1480, and third getting $740. From what I heard in the 11 a.m. tourney and from what is common, players tend to chop evenly. I'd love to play in a tournament that doesn't allow chopping.

I'm chugging along in the tourney and last three (I think) breaks, then we're at the final two tables when I get my pivotal hand.

Four callers to me.

I have AQs. I raise all-in, which amounts to only 3x the blinds.

This was a new table and the only other hand I'd played there was a raise to steal the blinds. No one had yet seen a showdown from me.

Others fold and a girl thought hard before calling with 99.

Coin-flip time.

Flop is Ace, river is Q, and no 9.

Not as if I needed reassuring, but I heard her boyfriend from the rail say, "He made the right play."

The same 99 girl is later all-in preflop with AQ (she's now the AQ girl) and another woman calls her with KQ.

The board is 8-9-10-J-x, not in that order.

The dealer pushes the pot to the KQ woman and mucks the cards, but that woman protests saying, "I think we split. We both had the Queen."

The dealer stops scrambling cards.

The woman continues. "I had KQ and she had AQ, so we both had the straight."

I shake my head about to say something, then catch myself. I wasn't in the hand, cards were mucked, and I didn't want to be the bad guy. It didn't affect me, except for serving to get an additional player out.

I probably should have said something, for the good of the game. (This bothered me enough that I posted it on a discussion group to see what they would've done.)

If I were in AQ girl's spot and someone said I won half the pot when I didn't, I would protest. I want to win fair and square.

I check other players' reactions, seeing if they noticed. Nothing. No one seems to know that the KQ woman should've scooped.

The dealer nods, says, "You're right," and chops the pot.

I get an inkling that the AQ girl knew she didn't win, but her bad beat let her conscience accept half the pot. I studied the KQ woman closely, but she seemed to truly believe it was a split pot and didn't seem to be giving her half the pot out of pity.

As the next hand is dealt, I hear AQ girl's boyfriend on the rail chatting with another friend who just arrived. He recounts the hand exactly. It's clear again that KQ should have won. I'm waiting for the friend to say that they shouldn't have chopped, but instead I hear, "Oh man, tough beat, but at least they chopped."

A couple hands later, it's folded to me on the button and I try a minimum raise to T8000 with JQo. Blinds are T2000/4000 and even though I only had T24,000 left, I wanted to make it look like I wanted a call. Others were folding to min-raises, and I saw the blinds were shortstacked.

The AQ girl raises all-in for T8000 more.

T30,000 in the pot now. If I folded, I'd be the shortest stack. Worse, I'd be showing weakness. If I called and lost, I was in good position to steal a couple blinds and recover.

I talked myself into having to call.

Referring to our previous heads-up match with my AQ and her 99, I say I have nothing this time and table JQ. She shows AQ and I get ready to leave.

I ask the dealer to throw a Jack out there. The flop is 8-9-Q.

How about another straight, I ask the dealer. The turn is x.

And the river... my lucky 10!

That's poker, yet I felt as bad as I would have if I were in her shoes. I don't pride myself on drawing out or getting lucky on people. But I don't think it's possible to win a tournament without getting lucky at least twice. (I don't consider my AQ hand vs. 99 a lucky hand, so I had one more draw out to go.)

She gets up and leaves, and I count the chips.

In the background, I hear her boyfriend say, "Oh man, shake her hand or something. At least give her a hug." She says to him, "That's all right."

I maintain composure and don't say anything, when inside I'm screaming with empathy.

After our final break, a guy from the second table sits at ours to balance. Sixteen people to go and top 11 cash. He's UTG and his first hand in, he raises 4x the blinds. It's folded to an older guy who looks at his cards and shakes his head in disapproval, as if saying, "I can't believe you raised me." Still, he had nothing invested in the pot so it was an easy fold. He told the table that he was the raiser's father, to which the raiser said, "Happy Father's Day."

It was now folded to me in the BB. Blinds still T2000/4000.

A lot of things go through my mind. My options are to raise all-in (which would be another T4000, which he would easily call) or fold. Just a few other players at the table have the same amount of chips that I do. I try to peer over to the the stacks of the second table, but can't see.

I call time.

Next hand I would be the button.

Five more players have to be knocked out.

I need chips.

I could double-up here and still be under average.

I fold, showing my JJ.

He says, "Good fold," and throws up pocket Aces.

The table oohs. The guy's father said he had AJ. More oohs.

I'm hoping by showing I can get people to respect my next raise, if they see what I'm capable of folding.

A few hands later, now at T3000/6000 and 13 people left, it's folded to me on the button and I raise the minimum with K10o. My hope was for the same fold from people thinking I had a big hand and wanted them to call, but the cost was showing definite weakness. Particularly if anyone happened to look at my puny stack and wonder why I didn't just go all-in.

The AA guy raises all-in, and I take some time to think just for show, and I fold. He could've been putting a move on me, knowing I'd made a big laydown to him before, but I couldn't take that chance.

The TD then moves me to balance out the second table.

I fold a few hands and then see JJ. I raise all-in and get two callers. Before they show their cards, I say, "Well, Aces are dead."

A6 and A10 called. Both offsuit.

They weren't chip leaders by any stretch, and I thought both were bad calls. Maybe not so much for A10 (who was next shortstack after me, and which put him all-in), but certainly for A6.

The flop gives a 6, and I feel that moment of dread.

The turn is a Jack, but now it puts three clubs out there.

The river is a club, and the guy with the A10 (Ace of clubs) takes it.

Four and a half hours down the drain.

In retrospect, I should have moved all-in wth JJ against the guy with AA. Even though I would have lost, who knew what he had. I was short enough at that moment that it warranted a call.

I should also probably have called with K10. My fold there crippled me, and I'd have to double-up a few times just to be average.

Both times I would've been out, but you never know.

I leave the poker room in 13th place (one more knockout and everyone would cash), redeem my second $50-for-$40 coupon at the cage, steam some in blackjack (which I do by betting bigger than my usual $25), shake my head incredulously losing eight hands in a row (this last happened playing live at The Plaza), then blow the popsicle Sahara looking for food.