by Wil Wheaton

Dammit.

A few minutes after the dinner break, I walked into the Amazon room and saw that the final table had resumed. Men The Master ran up to the rail to celebrate winning a hand with some people as I walked in, and it cracked me up that he was having such a good time, and acting like me and my friends do in a tourney with one tenth the buy-in.

I made my way down along Main Street until I found a spot where I could get close enough to the rail to go under the rope, when a voice called out, "Cowboy Wil! Cowboy Wil!"

I turned around, and saw John Vorhaus in one of the 2-5 no-limit games. We talked for a minute or so, and when he sat down to play his blind, I looked back to check on Greg's table.

Okay, a small problem: Greg wasn't there.

"Oh shit," I thought, "Greg busted out."

"I have to go," I said, and I pushed my way past some tourists and beyond the rail. I walked past several empty tables, and an empty seat where Greg had sat confirmed my fears: he was eliminated in fifth place. Evelyn Ng sat in a chair at an empty table as she sweated her friend David Williams.

"How did Greg go out?" I said.

"David just busted him," she said.

"Do you know how the hand went?" I said.

"No, I missed it."

Aside: I checked on Pokerwire when I got back into the media room (where I've moved to do all my writing today; it's just too crazy and crowded in the halls) and saw that Greg once again got his money in ahead, and was outdrawn.

I pointed at David's massive stack of chips. "Not too bad for someone who says he's never played the game before today, huh?"

Evelyn smiled. "Nope."

Daniel Alaei showed a 7-5-4-3-2 for the absolute mortal nuts on the next hand while Evelyn and I talked. It's not the biggest deal in the world, but it was cool to see that hand, on the felt, just a few feet in front of me.

"Otis and I were really hoping for Greg vs. David 2: Electric Boogaloo," I said.

She laughed this time, and said, "Hey, did you bring Darwin with you?"

"Of course," I said, "and he's on top of his game this year."

Men The Master went all-in against Daniel Alaei. Daniel showed a 7-6-5-3-2 this time, and Men mucked, picked up the deck laughing, and started looking through the cards like the game was rigged or something. It was really, really funny. Men shook hands with all the players at the table as his fans cheered him on from the rail.

"When do you play the main event?" I said.

"Saturday," she said. "You?"

"Friday. Saturday is my birthday, and I'd rather hang out with my wife than play poker on my birthday."

She looked at me like it was completely insane to suggest that I'd rather do anything than play poker. "Hey, baby, I'm a lover, not a poker player."

"Anyway," I said, "I have to go write this up, now, so I'll see you around."

"Good luck on Friday," she said, "and happy birthday!"

"Thanks," I said.

As I made my way out of the tournament room, I saw that Greg was waiting at the cashier to collect his ninety-three thousand dollars for fifth place. I thought about walking over to congratulate him on his finish, but came into the media room to write, instead. Greg has been so gracious and so generous with me, I felt like it was time to just walk away and give him some space.

Aside: Men Nguyen outlasted Greg by about four minutes, and picked up an additional thirty-thousand dollars. Back when I was a big deal actor a million years ago, I'd have to work ten weeks on a movie to make less than that. Crazy.