For most of the players in this year’s Main Event physically getting there was NOT half the fun. Getting to the Rio itself is no big deal, but then the blistering sun punishes you while walking across the parking lot, and then you have to deal with the anxious crowds in the halls. But for most the real journey doesn’t begin until security throws open the Amazon Room doors and let’s everyone inside.
Of course Phil Hellmuth doesn’t run with the pack. Once again this year he made a grand entrance into the Main Event, and this year he (and everyone else responsible for pulling this off) went far beyond anything we’ve seen before. Phil was borne to the front of the Rio in a sedan chair, and then escorted by 11 Gladiators and 100 Muses to his seat at the feature table. Well, rather than describe it why not just show what it looked like:
As we all waited in the broiling sun for Phil to appear I found myself looking at the ladies dressed as “gladiators” and found myself wondering “How the heck did they do that?” And by that I mean the extensive body-paint that each gladiator was wearing. The straps on the shoulders and the UB logos on their backs–they’re painted on. Speaking as someone with zero artistic ability my mind tried (and failed) to figure out how they did it. Each model looked identical, and I knew they had to paint them all that morning. How’d they pull it off?
Well, wonder no more, as there’s a behind-the-scenes video of the models being prepared before Phil’s grand entrance (and video of his arrival as well). Kinda neat to see it all from begining to end…still can’t believe that a lot of the decorations were painted freehand. I couldn’t have managed that in a million years. Anyway, enjoy:
Entering the Amazon Room dressed as Caesar, with 111 young women in tow. How, exactly, do you top that for 2010? Do you even try? Or do you go for something totally different. Some of my fellow wags on media row discussed what Phil might try next year for his entrance, here’s a few of the ideas that were bandied about:
A jet-pack. This was actually the most frequently-raised option, that Phil might streak down the Strip in a Space-Age jet pack before banking left and soaring over I-15 to the Rio. Or, maybe, even swooping through the open doors and streaking down the hallway, hovering over the Feature Table before gently alighting upon his seat. Now THAT would be an entrance, though with a jet-pack there would be the very real possibily of a hilarious tragic accident. Phil bonking into a palm tree or knocking over a gaggle of fans like so many duckpins would not be an auspicious start to the Main Event.
Sky-dive into the Main Event. Phil jumps out of an airplane with, say, 11 (or more, depending how the 2010 Series goes) precision jumpers. Black-and-gold smoke billowing from his boots, Phil would gently touch down at the Rio and, still at a trot, detach himself from his chute and race to his seat still dressed in his custom-made jump gear. The problem with this idea is that landing at a precise location ain’t that easy, and what with all the power lines criss-crossing Vegas a near-miss could be a real problem. Also the searing Vegas sun baking the asphalt probably creates some wicked thermals, and I can just see Phil floating above the Rio, borne aloft by powerful updrafts, carried by the breeze until he’s finally able to touch down in coyote/tumbleweed country. Which could lead to hilarious uncomfortable circumstances.
Phil the Ninja. Instead of a Hollywood production leading to his Main Event arrival, Phil infiltrates the tournament by stealth. Dressed head-to-toe in black Neoprene and suspended from the Amazon Room rafters hours before play begins, Phil suddenly appears out of nowhere, throwing a handful of flash-powder on the table and descending Mission Impossible style via a filament-thin zipline. Once in his seat he pulls out a razor-sharp katana and cuts the deck in two with a glittering blade. THIS idea I like, it reinvents the whole big entrance idea and inspires a different sort of awe. It would add an aura of mystery, as everyone knows Phil ALWAYS makes a big entrance and, yet, no one seems have a clue what it might be. And no one manages to figure it out before…they’re dead. Figuratively speaking, of course.
So these are just a few ideas, please feel free to contribute your own in the comments. Now’s the time to brainstorm, because there’s only about 49 weeks until the 2010 Main Event kicks off.
There’s a legend that when Julius Caesar was at the pinnacle of his power and popularity someone told him, “Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal”. It was a reminder to guard against hubris, because we all die in the end, no matter how exalted we are during our time on Earth. I know that’s some heavy stuff to lay on you but when you’re at the World Series of Poker you’re constantly reminded of how brief life can be, especially when you flop set under set. And I couldn’t help but think of Imperial times this afternoon as I watched Phil Hellmuth make his majestic entrance to the Main Event.
Perhaps only one poker player could actually pull off dressing as Julius Caesar and striding into the Rio escorted by 11 female gladiators and 100 Muses, and that’s Phil Hellmuth. That’s what he did today, as he eschewed his normal limosuine for human-powered transport to the Rio:
Carried along in a sedan chair Phil alighted onto the blazing-hot asphalt to the delight of his devotees:
And then it was time for Emperor Phil to make his way to the Amazon Room, escorted by 111 young women and a trumpetor to announce his arrival. Rose petals were cast at his feet as he walked, hundreds of admirers strained to catch a glimpse of his noble form. Fairly low-key stuff.
The walk down the hall to the Amazon Room reminded me of something from Roman times, a vast unruly mob shoving and jostling in tight quarters trying to follow Phil. I punched a few people in the face and kicked out someone’s crutches to get a few shots of the procession:
And then Phil reached the Amazon Room and it was time to alight from his exalted perch and take his seat with we mere mortals. Of course only after favoring the masses with a dignified wave:
Quite a few people remarked today that Caesar ended up being assassinated by his colleagues in the Senate. And in a manner of speaking (I hope not literally) that’s exactly what the eight players at Phil table will try to do today–whack Phil and send him out of the Main Event. That may be easier said that done–today isn’t the Ides of March, I didn’t see anyone at the secondary Feature Table brandishing swords, and I haven’t seen a Brutus or Cassius listed in the chip counts. Still, today will be filled with treachery and conspiracy–all that remains to be seen is if Caesar…I mean Phil Hellmuth…is able to outmaneuver his enemies.
That was the question circling the Amazon Room as the end of Level 3 grew nigh. Like I said in my last post, Phil always shows up late, but this was pushing it even for him. It was confirmed he’d registered, there was no danger of him missing the event, we even knew that he’d be sitting at Table 70, Seat 7. He just wasn’t here. There were rumors he was planning some outrageous Main Event-style grand entrance for the swarming ESPN cameras, and I staked out Table 70 like a rancid paparazzi stalking Lindsay Lohan.
They say a watched pot never boils, but my craning neck spotted a black baseball cap with a gold UltimateBet logo knifing through the crowd. Seconds later the ropes parted and there was Phil Hellmuth in the flesh, making his 2009 World Series of Poker debut:
There was some minor commotion as Phil sidled up to his seat. “Philly’s here!” crowed Scotty Nguyen and Scott Seiver said, “The man, the myth, the legend.” The mob clustered around the rail swelled as Phil showed off copies Deal Me In, his new book featuring interviews with a number of top professionals. One of whom, Phil Ivey, took a copy and immediately started riffing through pages, perhaps looking for his chapter:
As you can see, that’s a pretty loaded table…and that doesn’t even include David “The Dragon” Pham, barely visible two seats over from Ivey. There’s enough star power at that table to draw an army of railbirds and platoons of photographers, but I’ll bob and weave my way back there and see how Phil progresses…now that he’s actually playing in the tournament.
It was a broiling hot Vegas afternoon and I was standing outside of the Rio. Outside, where the heat stripped the moisture from my skin and my Ray-Bans couldn’t cope with the raw sunlight. “So it’s come to this,” I thought as I marinated in my own sweat. “I’m standing here with my camera on a 145-degree day waiting for Phil Hellmuth to drive up in an Army jeep.” Not the sort of thing my high-school guidance counselor could’ve predicted when it came time to discuss possible career choices. You can never be sure where life will take you.
Anyway, Phil of course likes to make a grand entrance at the World Series of Poker and in 2008 he planned to show up in a military convoy dressed like General Patton. And from across the shimmering curtain rising from the parking lot I beheld the man, the myth, the legend, launching his invasion of the Main Event.
As I saw Phil approach (his Jeep driven by P0ker H0) the first thing that went through my mind was, “Holy s***, he’s gonna sweat to death. He is going to DIE.” Buttoned-up jacket, tie, gloves, trousers bloused into riding boots, gloves…and a helmet? You could’ve filled a pot with water and boiled pasta on the Rio tarmac, and there he was wearing a helmet. But when Phil deJeeped I saw that it was a plastic helmet, not metal, and that meant that Phil’s brain wasn’t being sauteed. And then of course was time for Phil and H0 to, uh, salute:
Not that I kept my camera pointed at Phil the whole time, not when I saw who he brought along as his military escort:
And then the entire entourage made it’s way toward the Amazon Room, and as you might expect Phil Hellmuth walking toward the Rio with eleven models in tow, the whole gang followed by a dozen or so photographers and a ESPN film crew, garnered a bit of attention:
It wasn’t until we got inside the Amazon Room proper that I remembered why we were here in the first place–Phil was playing in the Main Event. And having missed the first three hours of play you’d think he’d be raring to go, but first he had to make his way to the ESPN Feature Table, be introduced to the crowd by WSOP Commissioner Jeffrey Pollack, and shake hands with his tablemates (including MMA star Chuck Liddel). It was during this rather chaotic scene that I took what was probably my favorite picture of the World Series. It was dark in there, I didn’t have time (or space) to switch to a faster lens, and Phil wouldn’t hold still. So I panned along as he walked around the table and squeezed off one semi-sharp shot of Phil in motion:
And from there Phil went on to finish 45th in the Main Event. How will he top either his entrance or his deep run? The latter is easy–just win the thing. But topping the Jeep, the ladies, the uniform? I’m thinking precision skydiving. I’m just throwing that out there. Believe me, I’ll be there with my camera to record THAT.
