Perseverance
In order to win the KO’s, you have to make it to the finals.
In order to make it to the finals, you have to make it to the semi-finals.
This week, that little goal has eluded us, until tonight.
We have been in Bracket 2 all week, but so many teams have gone home that we are in Bracket I for the final KO that started this morning. There were 10 teams in our bracket, so they reduced it to 6 in the first round, and had two round robins in the second session, so there will be 4 teams tomorrow morning in the semi-finals, and our team is one of them. Perseverance pays off.
Mike and I played the first half tonight, then we were out so we went to play our annual game of miniature golf. Neither of us is a real golfer, so 18 holes a year of mini-golf is about enough for us.
Dinner tonight at the Texas Roadhouse, which is pretty much like everyplace else here. A waitress who asked if “y’all have ever ate here before”. Excessively sweet dinner rolls served with cloyingly sweet honey margarine. Salads from the kitchen instead of a salad bar, but pretty good. Really really good ribs. I’m not really a rib afficianado, but if you’re in Tennessee, you owe it to yourself to try them.
Semi finals at 10 Sunday morning. If we lose, Mike and I head to Knoxville, a trip to the art museum, a night at the Hilton and then an early plane Monday. If we win, we stay and play the finals, no museum. I like that plan better, how much great art can they have in Knoxville, anyway?
Winding down
At most tournaments, Saturday is the big day. Around here, things are already winding down and closing up. Last night they were collecting the yellow bid boxes, because they go out today, just leaving the orange bid boxes. We’re not using the upstairs room anymore. People are starting to go home.
And maybe we should have, too, since once again we won the first round of the KO and got beaten in the second. This time, it was more embarrassing than usual because there was a mix up, our bracket had 17 teams, and we had a round-robin in the second round, so we only had to beat one of two teams and we couldn’t do that, either. Lost both halves of the round robin and went home sadder, wiser, poorer and defeated.
Today, we will begin the SIXTH KO event of the week in our quest to win something, anything, so our wives don’t spend all of the next 11 3/4 months laughing at us and asking why we bother to come here if we aren’t going to win.
There was no morning team event today, so the athletic members of the group went on a nature walk. Danny and I, not the athletic types, drove over the Smoky Mountains to Cherokee, North Carolina (pronounced Calina by the locals) because we’ve seen all the tacky Gatlinburg has to offer and wanted some new tacky for a change.
The drive is stunningly beautiful, through the Great Smoky Mountain National Forest. The road is wide and smooth and people actually drive the speed limit of 35, which is boring but lets you enjoy the vista.
We went to Peter’s Pancakes, which is, it seems, the Holy Grail of pancake lovers. And this is definitely pancake country–there are at least 5 major pancake restaurants in Gatlinburg.
Danny, therefore, had the de rigeur breakfast:
"Hikers" pancakes, sausage and scrambled eggs.
The hikers pancakes are made with multi-grain flour and nuts, the better to sustain the people who are in the process of hiking the entire Appalachian trail. Danny needs the extra energy to sustain his bidding.
I went the modern truck driver route:
Biscuits and gravy and 2 eggs over easy. Very, very small eggs.
When I went to UC Davis, there was a breakfast place we went to that offered 3 eggs on its breakfast dishes–then we found out they meant the tiniest little eggs you’ve ever seen. I think that their purchasing manager is working at Peters Pancakes, these were like robin’s eggs. But the biscuits and gravy were classically wonderful, so it worked out.
Of course, Dan and I had to share a bowl of the culinary pride of the south, grits:
That's it. White mush. Gruel. Grits, which have sustained the south for generations.
The grits were on the menu as “buttered grits”. I found another area where the purchasing manager was saving a few cents:
"Fresh Buttery Taste Spread" is another way of saying "yellow grease"
The Guide Michelin, doesn’t have a North Carolina edition, and Peter’s Pancakes may be the reason why.
Last night we went to the Park Grill, one of the better places in town. I tried to explain to the group that if you have to wait for the restaurant to open, you’re way to damned early, but they’re all old men who would eat dinner at 4:30 if they could get into the place, so I went with them.
The prime rib was fine, the sweet potato casserole was like dessert, the unsweetened iced tea kept flowing. What more could you ask for?
Danny and Bruce insisted on having their picture taken in front for some reason. I don’t get it, but here it is:
Bruce wants to point out that the bear was standing on a box Danny would be taller than it was. These guys confuse me.
Finally, it’s time for the annual team photo. We asked a passer-by to take the shot, and he turned out to be a self-styled artiste, who spent too much time to get a simple shot. At least nobody has his eyes closed.
Unit 499 Traveling squad, 2012
In other news, sun rises in the east
I saw Eric Rodwell smile today.
That’s not a good thing, Eric isn’t what you’d call lighthearted or jolly.
You don't see this grin very often.
Mike and I were out the first half: the score was 56-3 when we got there, and Jeff Meckstroth and Eric Rodwell hadn’t played the first half either, because that’s when the sponsor plays with her personal pro and guru, Mike Passell.
So Micky and I sat down against Jeff and Eric, trying to, if not win, then lose by less than our teammates had. Twasn’t to be.
Playing like very fast machines, the big boys picked us clean 58-1. They were friendly, easy going and almost flawless–they did play 2S in their 5-1 spade fit, down 200, but we still lost 3 IMPs on the hand when Bruce and Jack played 1S on the same cards down 3.
Jack, Cesare Baliki and Bruce. Adam Zmudskinski with his back to the camera.
Second place is decidedly overrated.
We start yet another new KO event right after lunch. Never say die.
Houston, we have achieved mediocrity
After a big start this morning, things pretty well tapered off.
We started a new KO event, and were leading at the half but couldn’t hold on, so we had to play loser Swiss this evening. We won two and lost two, finished just above average and couldn’t wait to get out of there.
On the way back to the house Gail called and asked if I wanted to play the next BBO tournament. Since I really like to play with her, and I don’t go to bed all that early anyway, I said yes.
BBO played better than live bridge today; we had a 55% game and won half of a masterpoint, so I have more points this week than Mike.
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Walking around town and poking into the plethora of gift and souvenir stores, one of the shopkeepers noted that I must be a bridge player. I asked if it was the old, white, pale, overweight look but she said it was because I was well-scrubbed and didn’t sound like Foghorn Leghorn. That’s Gatlinburg in a nutshell.
Lunch today with Bruce and Jack at a “grill and bar”, which is considered clever branding in these parts. Our waitress sounded just like Mrs. Foghorn Leghorn–we could understand about 30% of what she said, starting when she got to our table and said she would “just plop a squat” at an empty seat.
The French dip sandwiches were decent, not great. The iced tea was unsweetened, Jack seemed to like his burger and Mrs. leghorn insisted on bringing me some barbecue sauce for my onion rings even though I asked for ranch. Made a big deal about not charging me for the BBQ sauce I didn’t want, too. I’m lucky that way.
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Laura and Tanya, the hat girls
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Tanya Moalem used to live in the Bay Area, but she got married and moved to New York. I see her at all the tournaments, but not like this–she is playing with a woman from Maine named Laura, and Laura makes hats. So she and her partners and teammates wear those hats, and this is who was next to us after the first round this evening.
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Five guys, spending a week without wives in a far away tourist mecca. Must be pretty rowdy, right?
Diet Coke and popcorn--we're living the high life now.
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These are the guys after the game tonight–sitting on the sofa, watching basketball and getting wild and crazy on Diet Coke. Jack had already gone to bed and I was playing cards online with Gail. You can see why we need this week every year to bust loose and, well, something……………
Maybe we’re not as rowdy as we think we are. Ill just have a glass of warm milk and hit the sack. Big game in the morning
Good news, bad news
The good news is that we won this morning, propelling us into the finals of the morning KO. We were up 4 at the half, and added another 15 or so in the second half to advance.
The team we beat is eligible to play the loser from the other semifinal for a playoff for third/fourth, with the winner collecting about 7.5 masterpoints.
The bad news is that we won this morning, propelling us into the finals of the morning KO. Which means that tomorrow we have to face the Lynch team: sponsor Carolyn Lynch, Mike Passell, Jeff Meckstroth, Eric Rodwell, Cesare Balecki and Adam Zmudskinski. Nothing like facing five of the strongest players in the world to get your heart started in the morning.
Micky says if we beat them he’ll buy dinner tomorrow night. Right. Like beating these guys isn’t incentive enough, he needs to offer us Big Mac Happy Meals, too.
A certain level of frustration sets in
The tournament continues to be fun, but it would sure be nice if we could win the second match in a KO.
The morning KO’s started today, and we had a nice win against a good team. On one board, Jack and Bruce bid a small slam, and were surprised when Dan and Bob came back and said their opponents bid and made a grand slam–so we lost 13 IMPS. Except that Jack said 7 was impossible, and the declarer at the other table must have made a bad claim. That declarer was a well known professional, but Bob went back, went over the hand with him, and sure enough he was down 1. So we won 17 IMPS instead. Top players are often very casual about their claims–it pays to check thing out, in this case it paid 30 IMPS.
Then we won the opening match of the new prime time KO, and got beaten in the evening session. Tomorrow, I guess we’ll start yet another new KO in our quest for glory and riches.
Yesterday I showed you the main room. This is the upstairs overflow room. This tournament is vast.
There was a bright side to the day–I had dinner with Wendy Sullivan, the ACBL Ask Me Girl, who is also the Patron Member coordinator and all around go to person when you want something taken care of. You remember her as the one I was dancing with in Memphis last month:
Meeting planner, Ask Me Girl, patron member coordinator, all around factotum and general star Wendy Sullivan. Darned good dancer, too.
Wendy was here with meeting planner Jeff Johnston to see how a big regional operates, and she just had to be Ask Me Girl for a while. She started that job in Saint Louis when Jeff handed her an “Ask Me” sign and a schedule and said good luck. She doesn’t play bridge, although she has worked for the league for 22 years, and had to learn many things fast, like how to win Gold Points. She’s been a hero at her job ever since.
And yes, she gets asked some dumb questions. The two most common are “What should I ask you?” and, as she is handing out Daily Bulletins, “Is this today’s?” Don’t ask her that.
Wendy is the real backbone of the league–she works hard and long to support a game she doesn’t play. We all want to go to the next nationals, she wants to go to Key West and just hang out. She sure deserves it–without her our NABC’s just wouldn’t run nearly as well.
People are different here than they are in California. I had to have a picture of this group:
Momma and Her Chicks. Yes, that's what they call themselves. No, I don't know which one is momma, and neither does any other gentleman.
These ladies are from Winchester, Tennessee, and have been playing together for about 8 years. I try to get our team to all dress alike, but I don’t think that they are going to go for it.
The game continues
This is a great place to have a sweet tooth. There are more candy stores and fudge factories here than in the entire Bay Area, I should think. Add in a 15 or 20 places to get ice cream, frozen yogurt or frozen custard. Then there are the restaurants, which make everything sweet.
We had dinner tonight at Peddlers, which is considered one of the best places in town. It’s a steakhouse, they offer big slabs of beef, even to the point that a man comes to your table with entire loins and strips and offers to cut off as much as you want right then and there. I had the trout, which is local (they say), but I’m a contrarian. Like many of the places here, it offers a salad bar, so you can make you own enormous salad–and many of the items on that are sweet, including a fruit salad, corn, carrots and peas.
Ice tea is served already sweetened, really really sweetened, unless you ask for it otherwise.
The rolls they brought to the table were sweeter than some pastries I have had. You get your choice of side dishes, and we all chose the sweet potato casserole, which is mashed sweet potatoes, butter, brown sugar and a bit of coconut to add that last little bit of sweetness. It’s like a dessert. If The French Laundry would add it to the menu the Michelin people would have to add another star to their rating.
The tournament is huge. This photo is a composite of 5 shots I took trying to get everything in:
The room is a huge rectangle, distorted by the photo process.
Here’s a single shot of the busiest end of the room–these are just the KO’s for teams with over 4000 points. There is another huge room on the other side of the far wall for the newer teams.
Our guys were on the far side, at the table with all the lights.
I wandered around this afternoon and took some photos. G’burg isn’t a bastion of class and style:
Hard to believe anyone over the age of 7 would want to wear these.
The politics in Tennessee are somewhat to the right of home:
Nope, don't miss him yet. Notice he's completely missing from this years races. Nobody quotes him, nobody wants his endorsement.
There are some cool people on the street, though:
Not just anybody could carry this look out this well.
There are things I don’t understand:
5D? Isnt' that two more D's than there are?
This is the display in front of the 5D shooting gallery. Why is the donkey riding the man? What does this mean? Does it make you want to go in?
Still, weird and tacky as G’burg can be, it’s a beautiful spot in the mountains, very green and lovely. It was raining lightly this afternoon, and the colors just popped off these rose growing on the main street:
Nothing to complain about here, it was lovely.
Oh yes, the bridge. I guess I have to get around to that. We started a new KO this afternoon, roundly trouncing some very nice people. In the second match, after dinner, we were ahead by 8 at the halfway point but lost by 16 in the second half. There were 3 swing boards where we could have saved the event, but we didn’t, and tomorrow morning we’ll start the morning KO’s and then at 1:00 we’ll start another prime time event. Meanwhile, I think I’ll have something sweet.
I’m Here, the Fun Begins
The flight from DFW was bumpy but uneventful. Plane left about 30 minutes late, but we didn’t have to be here any special time.
Hertz offered me either a bright red Camaro or a mini-van. Staid, sober, rational Micky wanted me to take the soccer mom-mobile. We’re enjoying the Camaro–it even has the modern heads-up display, where you can see what speed you are doing in the middle distance in front of you without looking down, and a back-up camera that displays in the rear-view mirror. Much more fun to drive, practicality be damned.
Gail let me take her new iPad on this trip, so I used it to make a video of the palace Bob rented for us:
The alarm system wouldn’t stop beeping, and it’s on the wall in my room. Bob probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it, but it wasn’t something I could live with. The rental company sent a maintenance man right out and he made it stop, then I had him check the air conditioning upstairs–it was 20 degrees hotter up there. He decided that the A/C was not working, and called for a repairman, who arrived in about 90 minutes and quickly fixed that problem. So now everything is perfect.
Bob, Dan, Bruce and Jack played a one-session Swiss team event this afternoon, and came in first in the X flight and 3rd overall. We start the KO’s at 7:30 tonight; Mike and I go in for the second half at 9:00.
On the way
v
Nothing like getting to the airport and seeing my friends already there. But I haven’t gotten anywhere ahead of Mike in over twenty years and I don’t expect to start anytime soon.
Last night was just as planned-a dumpy airport hotel with barely adequate Internet, but worth what I paid. The “breakfast buffet” was a pretty poor shambles, and I had to raid the pantry to find my own cream cheese for my bagel.
Still, the shuttle bus was not only on time but early, security only had one person in line and here I am. And they just announced that our plane would be twenty minutes late, so I think I’ll get a shoe shine.
I’ll leave you with this:
This was the windshield of the shuttle–the damage was from the hail storm last week. Another reason I’m glad to live in California.
The wild ride begins
Sitting in SFO waiting for a plane, headed to Gatlinburg for the annual pilgrimage to red neck heaven and an orgy of masterpoints.
This could be a record breaking trip for travel issues. First, I was scheduled to leave early tomorrow morning, meet Mike in Dallas and fly to Knoxville. American Air cancelled that flight, and put me on one that landed much later, too late to play at all on Monday. Mike, who left for Dallas last Thursday to see his kids, was put on an earlier flight that would work just fine.
So I called American, and asked for that earlier flight. They said that my original flight from SFO would get me there too late, but I could take the 12:30 am red eye, wait 6 hours at the airport and everything would be fine. Not fine with me, I noted, what else do you have? Is there something Sunday afternoon/evening, and I’ll get a cheap hotel?
Well, yes, there is a 4:45 flight Sunday afternoon, but the rules say if you take that one you have to take the first flight the next day–at 7:00 am out of Dallas. I didn’t like that idea a bit better, and they weren’t swayed by my point that this was THEIR fault in the first place, so I gave up that day.
The next day I tried another agent, at their Advantage desk for people with a lot of miles. I told them I wanted the Sunday afternoon flight and the Monday at 11 with Mike. No problem. It helps to call the right people.
So today I get to the airport on time for the 4:45, and they tell me it’s delayed until 7:00. Shucks, I said, sort of, and headed off to the Admirals Club, where I fortunately had a day pass they sent me, to pout for three hours.
But the very nice young lady at the counter told me that the 2:30 flight was also delayed, and she could get me a seat–it was leaving at5:00, only 15 minutes behind my original schedule. Not only did that work for me, but it would be boarding so soon that I took my day pass back, to use another time.
I haven’t even gotten on the plane yet and this is the third scheduled flight I’ve had. The plane I’m currently booked on should be leaving in 23 minutes, but it isn’t at the gate yet. I’m booked into a cheap Sleep Inn tonight in Irving, which is some kind of -urb between Dallas and Ft Worth, and they promise a free shuttle and breakfast.
Gatlinburg is always an adventure, but usually not so much before I even get there. Stay tuned, this could be quite a ride.
Totally Unauthorized 