Justin Shronk

Whew.

I've only gotten punched a few times in my life. Turns out, one of the benefits of mastering double-speak and possessing an IQ higher than that of posterboard is that you can frequently talk your way out of situations that would normally find you receiving bodily harm.

The thing about getting punched is that no matter how recently the last time it happened to you, and regardless how vivid your recollection is of that time, you're still never ready for the entirety of the situation when it happens again.

This is what I realize at the end of every WSOP.

Now, probably more than 95% of the media, I love going down to the Rio everyday and walking the floor and giving a fist-pound to some famous pro I know (half because I whole-heartedly wish them well and half because I want people around to know that I know them... a little bit more of the latter with Shannon Elizabeth). I love getting there before everyone else and parking in the secret empty parking lot and taking the secret door in (you know, the one that I found out about ten days ago). I love helping create something that I think is legitimately the best of its kind in poker.

But seriously, 45 days is a long, fucking, time. And it takes getting up on day 45 (well like 41 in this case since we have to leave early to go cover Bellagio Cup), to really remind you what a punch actually feels like.

I feel like got a lot done this summer. I really think I helped take the show, along with Ali Nejad, to a new level. We didn't really start doing anything new or groundbreaking; we just got really good at the things that make the show good. Of course, without Ali, Joe, Gavin, Court, and all the guests, what I do is just a bunch of bulletpoints highlighted in different colors and geniusly organized into sections and subsections in a Microsoft Word document - but still, the show was great week after week and I like to think that enough of it was done with my help that I can take some substantial pride in that. I also had an Asian kid ask for my autograph and picture with me - that's happened before but this time the person didn't think I was Mike Matusow.

On a larger scale, I covered my third straight WSOP for my third different media outlet. I'm not sure what that says about me or the poker industry or both. I think at the very least it says that hopefully I've built up a skill set that will never leave me jobless in this volatile industry. I also moved into a smaller apartment (again, one of those push-pull accomplishments - proud of myself for getting through a move at one of the busiest times of my life? Or sickened that I had to move into a smaller apartment since I'm poor?), and played in my 2nd, 3rd, and 4th career WSOP tournaments (with a combined success level still far less than my first). I went to a strip club for the first time other than on my sister's 21st birthday (not recommended, btw), and I lost over 50 lbs and continue to follow my doctor's orders and not drink any alcohol at all (after a December freak seizure at Bellagio).

After you get punched, there's about 3 seconds where your brain and your body decide to totally forget where and when they are. It's probably the most devoid of conscious thought your brain will ever be. Then you realize where you are, and that you just got punched, and then you just kinda go from there. Nothing hurts yet because of Adrenaline.

So how was my WSOP overall? Well, I have no money, my new apartment is full of boxes and piles of clothes, and I just busted the last $40 in my Full Tilt account (after cashing out about $600, don't worry mom). On the other side, all my shorts from last summer are too big for me, I'm down to two Ativan a day, and there's a chance I might actually be able to pay my rent on time this month.

Not that any of that matters though, I won't be able to feel anything for another week or so.