Made it through airport security this morning with surprisingly little fanfare. No body scan. No touching of the junk. No request to remove my prosthetic limb. (Just kidding.) I also managed to keep my pants on the entire time, something I occasionally have had trouble with when traveling before.
Came to the airport much earlier than necessary, in fact, and so I have a couple of hours of sitting around before my first flight takes off. There are a number of folks milling about, though not too many. A few families. A basketball team heading to a holiday tourney. Much fewer, though, than were traveling yesterday, I would imagine. Most folks have already arrived at their Thanksgiving-day destinations, presently readying for a long day of feasting and football.
I suppose I have done enough of this traveling thing (and tourney-reporting thing) by now for the novelty to have worn off a little. Not as much as some of my reporter buddies, of course, the full-timers who do this stuff year-round. But enough to have developed a set of expectations -- for the wide-eyed innocence to have worn off just a bit.
Even so, I’ll admit to feeling a little of that familiar mix of anxiety and excitement, particularly given the fact that I’m heading to a new country. (Heck, a new continent!) And really, every poker tournament necessarily is going to offer something unique or unexpected. Part of the reason why people keep playing ’em, I suppose. A brand new starting stack. Possibility. Promise. Something to play for.
Am certainly thankful for the opportunity to take another of these trips. And hopeful I’ll be able to share a little of the experience here over the next few days.
Am thankful, as well, for your stopping by Hard-Boiled Poker. Enjoy the day. Talk to you next from the Kingdom of Morocco.