All Series long, the top pros have enjoyed unfettered access inside the Amazon Room. They can go anywhere they want whenever they want. Uninvited, Phil Hellmuth stepped onto the stage at the final table of the $10,000 Pot-Limit Omaha event to wish Doyle Brunson good luck in his attempt to win his record-tying eleventh gold bracelet. Scotty Nguyen, Phil Laak, and Humberto Brenes seemed to pop their heads into the Media Room on a regular basis. Now a former world champion was being prevented from simply walking the aisles and watching his peers play from the rail.

I had to say something. “He’s a friggin’ world champion,” I told the security guard. “For christ’s sakes, let him in.”

The security guard looked Varkonyi over once again, not quite believing what he’d just heard. This was no Phil Hellmuth standing before him, no brash tall loud showman. This was no Doyle Brunson, no famous old Texas road gambler. This wasn’t even a Chris Moneymaker, who the security guard would probably have recognized instantly. This was a short balding guy with glasses and an unassuming personality.

Emboldened by his frustration, Varkonyi finally stepped past the security guard into the room and pointed at the twenty-foot-tall picture of himself hanging above the security guard’s head. “See,” he said to the guard. “There I am. Now can I come in?”

A little embarrassed, the security guard nodded and returned to his post at the door.

While I have always admired Hellmuth’s boldness, laughing off the first several rounds of the most important poker tournament of the year as a way of proving what a master of the game he is, I am starting to question his sanity. What kind of many would voluntarily play poker in what amounts to a flashy mechanic’s outfit. “This is worse than Jeff Madsen having to play in a jester costume,” said a member of the media. “He did it because he lost a bet. Hellmuth is doing this because…” Her voice trailed off. Why was he doing this?

Well, mostly to foist his products onto the consumers of America. When he’s not selling them on the idea of playing online poker at Ultimate Bet, he’s pushing his books and DVDs on them, and now he’s got a new line of energy drink whose name I refuse to say lest you feel compelled to go buy some. Hellmuth doesn’t need any more money. What he needs is a few more people whose opinions he respects to tell him he’s an idiot. Somehow that message isn’t getting through to him.

I am tempted to compare this feat with Dan Harrington making the final table of the main event two years in a row, but I would be doing so with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek. It’s more comparable to Jim McManus making the final table of the main event in 2001. The headline is nearly the same: Writer Becomes the Story. Poker writers are supposed to be dead money. It seems those days have passed. If this trend keeps up, the Media event, which starts on Thursday and has historically been more Laugh Olympics than serious poker tournament, will turn into a title as coveted as the $50,000 H.O.R.S.E. event.

Having read about Michael’s travails when trying to interview Phil Hellmuth for Bluff magazine (a difficult experience I have also been forced to endure), I had to laugh when I observed Hellmuth stroll by Michael’s table minutes after getting knocked out of the $1,000 No-Limit Hold’em with Re-Buys event and look at Michael and say, “You made another one of these?” For the record these two men have now made the same number of final tables at this year’s World Series although Hellmuth remains slightly ahead in total number of bracelets won.

I also got a chuckle out of the fact that Michael seems to be following the tradition started by Barry Greenstein, who gives a copy of his book Ace on the River to whoever knocks him out. Michael arrived at the final table armed with not one but two copies of his book The Full Tilt Poker Strategy Guide. He has been crediting much of his success at the tables this year with the time he spent with various Full Tilt players writing this book. That’s as good of an endorsement as I have ever heard and I’m going to run out and get a copy as soon as I can.

At the start of the day Michael sat squarely in the middle of the pack with 161k. At last glance there had been at least one player knocked out, which means Michael can do no worse than tie his best finish, seventh, at a World Series final table. Already guaranteed at least $15,943, he has to be feeling pretty darn good at this point. Nice work, Michael.