Camping doesn’t interest me these days. There was a time in my youth when the idea of a tent and a sleeping bag had great romantic appeal, but no more.

Today my idea of camping is a hotel without room service.

So let’s get one thing clear. Camp Hellmuth is not about camping, and neither is Caesars Palace. <READMORE>

So being that I love to play poker, live in Las Vegas, and I’m always interested in improving my game, it looked like Camp Hellmuth might be my kind of gig.

I do love to be right.

Opening night at Camp Hellmuth was at Pure, voted the top nightclub in the US today, and with good reason. It’s awesome, and we had it all to ourselves.

Cocktail parties don’t always have food, so I stopped at the sushi bar before the party. Big mistake.

Phil, you didn’t tell me there would be food at the cocktail party.

The appetizer buffet turned out to be a Wolfgang Puck wet dream. Petite beef wellington with tarragon sauce, sun dried tomato and fontina cheese tarts, grilled salmon skewers, phillipine chicken with adobe peanut sauce…

Not to mention the gorgeous supermodels hostessing the event.

As I mingled, nibbled and sipped my way though the happy crowd, I wondered what was Phil’s inspiration for this event. Was it some kind of donkey eradication program? Something that might relieve Phil of the frustration of some lucky yahoo drawing out on him again in a big tournament?

Not so. Camp Hellmuth is the brainchild of Brandon Rosen and Jeff Goldenberg, a couple of savvy, young promoters, who, when they got this idea, simply called Phil up on his cell phone and pitched it to him. Nice work, guys.

Day One at Camp Hellmuth began with informative seminars by T.J. Cloutier and our illustrious host. Both gave entertaining and very useful tips from their own success.

But the show was stolen by Joe Navarro, formerly of the FBI, who gave a fantastic, not-to-be-missed, in depth presentation on reading poker tells.

Now listen up. As a writer, poker player, and real estate agent, I figure I know a little something about how to tell when people are lying to me. I was even married once. These days I don’t even bother to listen to what people say. Instead, I hear the truth between the lines, which is what they really mean anyway.

Well, fuhgeddaboutit. For all I really know about the science of reading body langauge and discerning truth, I’m as clueless as George Bush at a mensa meeting.

Joe and Phil are working on a book, and fellas you can sign me up for the first copy right now.

The second half of Day One was the cash tournament, which, I am sorry to say, didn’t last very long for your humble narrator, who’s pocket tens fell victim to Stefan Patterson’s pocket aces. I wouldn’t mind, but Stefan is a fellow writer for pete’s sake.

The really cool part about the tournament was being able to call over a pro to help you analyze your hand in a critical situation, before making your decision. This was great fun, and no one had a better time than Announcer Phil, who danced back and forth between the tables with his microphone like Richard Simmons in an aerobics class.

One of the most entertaining moments occurred when a player called over Mark Kroon, Ultimate Bets’ infamous POker HO, for a consult on whether to call an all-in bet.

Anyone who plays against HO could have told you he’d say, CALL, which he did of course, and the player got busted out. The player’s parting words to Mark, were, Hey HO, you suck!

To add insult to injury, Ho was the first player out on day two. Way to go, HO!

Day Two brought great presentations by Antonio Esfandiari and some other pros, and continued with the prize tournament, which ended up being hotly contested, as the first prize was to be an all expense paid trip to Ultimate Bet’s Aruba tournament this coming fall, which, I can tell you from personal experience having won a seat to this event online last year, is a total blast, and a prize well worth winning.

The tournament director, due to time constraints, was forced to implement a blind escalation pace that makes an online ultra-turbo look like an exercise in buddhist meditation.

The pace was ferocious, and by the time we got down to heads up, it was like an Ali-Frazier fight, and you were sorry that someone had to lose.

Enter Victor Bigio, the marketing rep for Ultimate Bet, who stepped up and gave both of the last two players the trip, with the winner to get the paid for seat in the Aruba tournament.

Camp ended with a fabulous Caesar’s banquet for all, while the players who made the final table from day one played on stage under the cameras and lights, and the rest of us watched.

In spite of the exponential, immeasurable growth of poker, a real sense of community prevailed at this event, and those of us who attended not only made new friends, but also wound up feeling like we belong to something. Something good.

One thing is for damn sure. If you love poker, and you want to be a better poker player, then you don’t want to miss the next Camp Hellmuth.

As for me, in the words of The Governator, I’ll Be Back.

Bob Tracey

Aka bobspirit

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