It’s turning into a tradition.  And it’s a tradition that I can get on board with.

There’s been a core group of friends (degenerate gamblers, or whatever you want to call them), who have made yearly trips out to Las Vegas for the first weekend of the NCAA tournament.  We go out, we gamble, we get absolutely rocked for free, and we come home with a sense of….calm.  And maybe a little lighter in the wallet. 

Then last year, as I was getting married to my lovely, lovely wife, we decided to save money.  We decided not to go to Vegas.

Big mistake.  BIG, big mistake.  On St. Patrick’s Day last year, the first day of the second round, our core group of myself and two close friends Mark and Amber, we looked at each other and said never again.  This could not, absolutely not happen again.  We had a great setup at Joe’s on Weed St. here in Chicago, and we got hooked up with a lot of freebies after spending essentially three full days there.  But as Mark and I were abosolutely cleaning up against the spread (through 48 games, I went 34-14, and Mark went 31-17), we decided that there was way, WAY too much money to be made.

This year will be a little bit different, as my lovely wife (also named Amber) will also be making the sojourn with us, and quite possibly (but hopefully not) sucking quite a bit of the fun out of the whole expedition.  But maybe not…..

Last year, my wife and I spent the Super Bowl in Vegas for free, and got to attend a huge Super Bowl party with free found and drinks during the game.  And it was her idea to make some bets right before the game.  And it was HER idea to put a bet on Devin Hester returning a kick for a touchdown in the game…and to bet enough that we would basically pay for the airline tickets, the only thing we had to pay for to get out there. 

12 seconds into the game, I had no voice, we paid for the trip and I loved that woman just a liiiiittle bit more. 

Will this March be any different?  I don’t know.  And maybe, that’s really the great thing about Las Vegas: Even as it gets more corporate, you really never know what’s going to happen.

Maybe you’ll almost knock Doyle Brunson over because you’re not paying attention (that was me).  Maybe you’ll have a little too much to drink and, at the prompting of your friends, proposition a married, older woman (Mark).  Or maybe on St. Patrick’s Day you’ll have a little too much to drink, fall off the bed and get stuck (the Amber that’s not my wife).  Or maybe you’ll make that really great bet.  Who knows?

And that’s the joy Vegas, baby.