Jennifer Creason has 2,400 in chips. She is whining about her bag cards, but she is a very charming whining and, after all, whining is allowed in razz.

When I come over at 2:11 AM, I say, “I’m here to bring you luck, Jen. I don’t know if it will be good or bad, but it’ll be luck.”

On the first hand, she has a five showing, completes, and everybody folds.

The guy in Seat 1 says, “You can go now.”

“Stay here,” Jen tells me, and I comply.

I finally catch Richard Brodie’s eye. “I’m in five figures baby. I’m pretty much a razz guy.”

“Yeah,” I say, playing along. “You’ve been playing the game your whole life.”

He tells me, “I love the line in the book where Ted Forrest says, ‘Most of the good razz players are dead.’”

David Oppenheim is sprawled in his chair. He is wearing blue jeans with skulls and crossbones on them.

2:25 AM – Jennifer Harman is sitting at Table 46. She is wearing a black hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. She is fussing between hands with her iPod Nano. It looks like she’s on short chips.

At Table 48, I see Mickey Appleman. He is wearing the same outfit he always wears and I think that Binion’s jacket has been part of the ensemble since Al Alvarez interviewed him for BIGGEST GAME IN TOWN 25 years ago. I wonder what the over/under is on that Binions jacket or how much he’d sell it for.

I see Annie Duke sitting next to Tom Schneider at Table 59. Annie is talking animatedly about hands with Tom.

2:30 AM – Chau Giang’s table has broken. He sees me and we exchange nods of hello. Chau looks younger than I’ve seen him in years. It must be because he has slept recently.

Andy Bloch also noticed Appleman’s timeless apparent and we talk about that and Frank Henderson’s NBC Sports jacket, which must also be decades old. Andy mentions that he has a closetful of Binions and Four Queens and other jackets, some of them saying “final table”. “I can’t just throw them out and because some of them are collectible or from final tables, I don’t want to give them to goodwill. Maybe I should sell them on eBay.” He agrees to let me take one when I’m over next time.

2:41 AM – Jen Creason has busted. It wasn’t any one hand, just a long, long time without good cards. She is not looking forward to doing chip counts tomorrow, especially in this event, in which she played so long without any opportunity to do well.

Annie Duke has not stopped talking. She is a bundle of manic energy. It’s funny to think about her hardly playing at all during the year. She is the most intense poker junkie imaginable. When I mention this after the chips are bagged up, she looks at me like I’m crazy. Then I walk out to where Joe is picking her up she machine-guns explanations of several hands played by Shannon Elizabeth a couple nights before. (She is coaching Shannon.)

The most intense poker junkie imaginable. I think it’s wonderful.

At Table 48, Eskimo Clark is in Seat 1 and Mickey Applman is in Seat 2. There are maybe two guys under 50 at the table. This table could be a reunion of a 1990 razz event at Binions.

2:45 AM – I see Robert Goldfarb is out.

Annie Duke has a rip in her jeans that is threatening to turn them into a pair of shorts.

I see Jennifer Harman as she is leaving. “I had 175 in chips about 3 hours ago. I went all-in blind as our table was breaking up. I didn’t want to have to move to the new table.” I ask her for a chip count. She has 10,400.

Harrah’s is adamant about getting the press out of the way during the color-up. They make an announcement that the press is supposed to leave the area. A floorman specifically tells me I have to get out, but he’s blocking the aisle. And another floorman is behind me, blocking that way. “How?” I ask.

“I don’t care how you get out. Just get out.”

I’m glad Harrah’s has some people reading this blog because I want to know what this fucking hump thinks he’s up to. Does this guy think he’s Tony Fucking Soprano? I think he’ll do very well in his next job as a flight attendant, acting like he’s the last line of defense against terrorism with peanuts and pillows.

Apparently, this measure was taken because it was the fault of the press that 2 million extra chips were passed out during color ups near the end of the Main Event last year.

No, wait. The press DISCOVERED it. This guy and the others who made the rule about keeping the press out were the ones at fault.

As I take one last survey of the room, Todd Brunson walks past and says, “I have forty-eight fucking hundred chips. Put that in your blog tomorrow.”

Annie Duke tells me she has 10,800 in chips.

I know I should not be playing in the $2,500 6-handed event at noon. Among the reasons: (a) While I have the money, I’m getting pretty close to the principal, the money I have saved up for the Main Event in the event I don’t qualify, and I haven’t qualified. (b) I could conceivably go home sometime tomorrow. (c) The one event I played horribly was a six-handed event. (d) I’m feeling like the worst poker player on earth, or at least the most unlucky. (f) I told Phil Hellmuth I’d be trailing him and, though he could probably care less and I’ll most likely have to reintroduce myself to him again, it will probably be better for the story if I’m keeping tabs on him.

On the other hand, I want to play. So I’m playing, and Annie Duke is buying 5% of me and we’ll work it out when I bust or finish in the money and pay her.

It’s now 4:40 AM. If I’m playing, I better get to sleep.