My precious daughter Addison has been on quite a roll lately.
The other day, when the tornadoes hit, I had a couple of poker-playing friends over because we have a storm shelter and they don't.
Addie really took to both of them, but she especially liked my friend Brian. After knowing him for about 30 minutes, she ran up to him and tried to kiss him on the mouth! If that's how she's acting at two-and-a-half years old, I can't imagine what it's going to be like in a dozen years. Anyone know a good gun shop?
After the storms passed, we all decided to go to a Thai restaurant. Missy, Addie and I took one car, and the boys drove separate. On the way over there, Missy and I were talking and Addie said, "Mommy." We were in the middle of our brief discussion so we just kept talking. Again Addie said, "Mommy." Missy was on the last sentence of our talk, but Addie couldn't wait any longer. "MOMMY!!!" she screamed at the top of her voice.
"Yes honey," Missy said. To which Addie calmly replied, "Where's Brian?"
Addison loves to help Missy with watering the gardens. Yesterday, unfortunately, she decided that our laptop needed some hydration. So I'm writing this blog on the old desktop, which literally took an hour to boot up. Once it gets going, it's not a ton slower than our laptop, but it does make a loud whirring sound on occasion.
When we bought the laptop, we figured it needed some "Addie protection," so we bought the full warranty, which includes things like pouring water all over it. We're crossing our fingers that the hard drive isn't fried, but regardless it won't cost us anything to fix/replace it. We'll just have to keep Addie from watering the old desktop for the next 2-3 weeks until we get our computer back.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Loads and Loads of Fun
Spent a month in Durant, Oklahoma on a poker trip this weekend, and it was loads of fun.
It started with a mix-up at the hotel I was staying at. I booked it through hotels.com and, long story short, it looked like they double-charged me for the room. I paid cash, but there was a debit on my bank card for the same hotel on the same day. Then it looked like hotels.com charged us once and the hotel charged us once, so we called hotels.com and had a wonderful conversation with them through an interpreter. Then it turned out that the charge was for my stay the previous weekend, but it didn't show up on my e-bank deal until the same day I checked in for the second time. Fun.
On Friday, I played for about 10 hours and lost $50 without anything exciting happening at all. Fun.
On Saturday, I was down about $500 after six hours. In total, I had been playing for 16 hours and hadn't really had one decent pot to show for it. I was sick of folding and waiting for something to happen, so I called Missy to vent. I told her I was considering switching tables and she agreed that was a good idea.
So I went back in, put my name on the list for a table change, and sat down at my table. I had to post the blinds that I had missed from being on the phone, which meant I had to play a random, terrible hand. Somehow, my terrible hand connected with the board, and I had the absolute best possible hand. I couldn't make anything happen for 16 hours with good cards, and here I was about to win a monster pot with some rags.
During the hand, I was informed that my seat at a different table was open and I was asked if I still wanted it. I went all-in for $800 and decided that if I won the hand, I would stay at this table, but if I lost I would move. One by one my opponents folded, until the last one called me with two pair. I had a straight, but the final card gave him a full house. To recap, I talked to Missy for 15 minutes, decided to switch tables, played one hand and lost everything I had in front of me. Fun.
Then I switched tables, and I have to take a minute to talk about this dude that was at my second table. My poker friends are familiar with a guy known as Tuff Fish online. Tuff Fish was a middle-aged hick who used to make videos of himself playing online poker and commentate on the hands as he played them. Unfortunately he didn't handle losing very well, which made for some hilarious videos. If you're interested, you can YouTube Tuff Fish, but I must warn you that the language is incredibly offensive. I tried to find one clip to post on here as an example, and they were all way too blue. This guy can't go 15 seconds without dropping an F bomb.
Anyway, I played with a guy Saturday night who was a real life version of Tuff Fish. He was probably in his late 50's, with a muscular build and a shaved bald head. He was already losing a lot when I got there, and after another lost pot his face turned beet red, and he stood up and started pacing around. Finally he slammed his fist on a drink tray at a table behind us, sending two drinks flying into the air.
He returned to my table and got involved in another pot. He bet, another man raised, and he raised another $400 on top. When his opponent went all in and he was forced to fold, real life Tuff Fish lost it. I won't repeat any of what he said, but his face was again as red as can be and he was spouting off profanities in incomplete sentences. His opponent was nice enough to show that he had the best possible hand, but that didn't seem to help. More cussing ensued, and the dealer called over security. Tuff Fish's opponent said sheepily, "I'm sorry you're upset." And Tuff Fish said, "Yeah, I bet you're real %&^*$#%ing sorry!" I couldn't help myself -- I burst out laughing. Probably not a good idea, but I needed a laugh after the way my weekend was going.
Of course, karma bit me right in the butt later on when Tuff Fish caught a perfect card to beat my made straight with a flush draw. To recap, I laughed at this dude and then handed him $1000 ten minutes later. Fun.
The final day of my trip was a blast, too. I was down $1900 for the weekend and wanted to at least put a dent in it. I played for 13 hours -- played really good too -- and won back a whopping $125. The highlight of that session was catching a lucky 6 to make a straight and build a huge pot, only to have a middle-aged Asian woman make four-of-a-kind on the last card and stand up, clap and hoot loudly for the next 30 seconds while my profit went from $1000 to $100. She was going, "Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay" in a real high-pitch voice.
F.U.N.
It started with a mix-up at the hotel I was staying at. I booked it through hotels.com and, long story short, it looked like they double-charged me for the room. I paid cash, but there was a debit on my bank card for the same hotel on the same day. Then it looked like hotels.com charged us once and the hotel charged us once, so we called hotels.com and had a wonderful conversation with them through an interpreter. Then it turned out that the charge was for my stay the previous weekend, but it didn't show up on my e-bank deal until the same day I checked in for the second time. Fun.
On Friday, I played for about 10 hours and lost $50 without anything exciting happening at all. Fun.
On Saturday, I was down about $500 after six hours. In total, I had been playing for 16 hours and hadn't really had one decent pot to show for it. I was sick of folding and waiting for something to happen, so I called Missy to vent. I told her I was considering switching tables and she agreed that was a good idea.
So I went back in, put my name on the list for a table change, and sat down at my table. I had to post the blinds that I had missed from being on the phone, which meant I had to play a random, terrible hand. Somehow, my terrible hand connected with the board, and I had the absolute best possible hand. I couldn't make anything happen for 16 hours with good cards, and here I was about to win a monster pot with some rags.
During the hand, I was informed that my seat at a different table was open and I was asked if I still wanted it. I went all-in for $800 and decided that if I won the hand, I would stay at this table, but if I lost I would move. One by one my opponents folded, until the last one called me with two pair. I had a straight, but the final card gave him a full house. To recap, I talked to Missy for 15 minutes, decided to switch tables, played one hand and lost everything I had in front of me. Fun.
Then I switched tables, and I have to take a minute to talk about this dude that was at my second table. My poker friends are familiar with a guy known as Tuff Fish online. Tuff Fish was a middle-aged hick who used to make videos of himself playing online poker and commentate on the hands as he played them. Unfortunately he didn't handle losing very well, which made for some hilarious videos. If you're interested, you can YouTube Tuff Fish, but I must warn you that the language is incredibly offensive. I tried to find one clip to post on here as an example, and they were all way too blue. This guy can't go 15 seconds without dropping an F bomb.
Anyway, I played with a guy Saturday night who was a real life version of Tuff Fish. He was probably in his late 50's, with a muscular build and a shaved bald head. He was already losing a lot when I got there, and after another lost pot his face turned beet red, and he stood up and started pacing around. Finally he slammed his fist on a drink tray at a table behind us, sending two drinks flying into the air.
He returned to my table and got involved in another pot. He bet, another man raised, and he raised another $400 on top. When his opponent went all in and he was forced to fold, real life Tuff Fish lost it. I won't repeat any of what he said, but his face was again as red as can be and he was spouting off profanities in incomplete sentences. His opponent was nice enough to show that he had the best possible hand, but that didn't seem to help. More cussing ensued, and the dealer called over security. Tuff Fish's opponent said sheepily, "I'm sorry you're upset." And Tuff Fish said, "Yeah, I bet you're real %&^*$#%ing sorry!" I couldn't help myself -- I burst out laughing. Probably not a good idea, but I needed a laugh after the way my weekend was going.
Of course, karma bit me right in the butt later on when Tuff Fish caught a perfect card to beat my made straight with a flush draw. To recap, I laughed at this dude and then handed him $1000 ten minutes later. Fun.
The final day of my trip was a blast, too. I was down $1900 for the weekend and wanted to at least put a dent in it. I played for 13 hours -- played really good too -- and won back a whopping $125. The highlight of that session was catching a lucky 6 to make a straight and build a huge pot, only to have a middle-aged Asian woman make four-of-a-kind on the last card and stand up, clap and hoot loudly for the next 30 seconds while my profit went from $1000 to $100. She was going, "Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay" in a real high-pitch voice.
F.U.N.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Another Great IHOP Experience
The last time I went to IHOP, it was such a ridiculous experience that I blogged about it.
http://luckylifeblog.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-last-possibly-forever-visit-to-ihop.html
If you looked at the comments on the aforementioned blog, my friend Chad suggested that future visits to IHOP be made only in the middle of the night.
Well, I took his advice. The result was yet another epic fail.
This time, I went a step further than just altering my appearance time. I didn't order anything but a glass of water.
It was a post-poker session IHOP visit with my friends Brian and Rychy at about 4:30 a.m. I wasn't hungry, I was just there to chill.
We waited the standard 5 minutes in a nearly-empty restaurant just to get someone to look at us and seat us. Then the waiter came by and asked what we wanted to drink. We all wanted water, but Rychy also wanted an orange juice.
The drinks actually came out in a timely manner. This was the beginning and the end of what IHOP did right during our visit. The drinks were timely but not entirely correct. The waiter brought two waters and an orange juice, and Rychy politely asked again for a water to go with his juice.
In the time between when our drinks came and when he took our orders, our waiter could have driven across town to his local drug dealer, conducted a seamless transaction, and returned to our table. I'm not saying that's what happened, just that it theoretically could have happened within that amount of time.
When he came back, he still didn't have Rychy's water, so Rychy asked for it again. Then the waiter took their orders. (I have to point out the irony of Rychy's order. He got the "Slim-N-Fit Egg Breakfast" but asked to substitute pancakes for the wheat toast. He should have just said, "I'll have the Slim-N-Fit Egg Breakfast, hold the Slim and the Fit.")
In the time between taking their orders and bringing their food, our waiter could have handed out the drugs he just bought to every employee in the restaurant, enjoyed them to the fullest, and made out with one of the waitresses. I'm not saying that's what happened, just that it theoretically could have happened within that amount of time.
Finally our waiter arrived with the food. He still does not have Rychy's water. Rychy asked yet again for a glass of ice water. The boys are now ready to eat, except for one problem -- we have no silverware on the table. Instead of waiting for this drooler of a waiter to get the silverware, Brian marches right up to the hostess station and grabs a couple of sets. Problem solved.
Now there is another problem. While waiting for silverware, Rychy realizes that his meal was supposed to come with a fruit bowl. This wasn't really too hard to notice, since his entire meal consisted of some eggs, the substituted pancakes, and a fruit bowl.
In the time between the waiter came brought the food and when he came back with Rychy's water, he could have been arrested on charges of possession and distribution of drugs, hired a good lawyer, gotten out of jail and come back to finish his shift. I'm not saying that's what happened, just that it theoretically could have happened within that amount of time.
When he came back with his half-baked -- I mean half-closed -- eyes and said, "How's everrrthang, gentulllmunn?" Rychy said, "I think my meal was supposed to come with a fruit bowl." Instead of giving any kind of fake thoughtful gesture, the waiter just said, "No. It doesn't."
Rychy said, "Well, could you check on it or something, because if I'm not mistaken it was supposed to come with a fruit bowl." The waiter said, "I don't think so, but I'll check on it."
In the time between when the waiter went to check on the fruit bowl status and when he returned, he could have entered and successfully completed a 12-week drug rehabilitation program. And then relapsed. I'm not saying that's what happened, just that it theoretically could have happened within that amount of time.
Then the waiter returned with a bowl of fruit. Instead of quickly retreating back to the smoke room like he had on every other visit, this time the waiter just kind of loomed over the table. Rychy said thanks, but this guy stood around the area without saying or doing anything. To an amateur like me, it seemed like he was waiting for Rychy to take a bite so he could go back and report to his co-workers that the sucker just took a bite of the special fruit bowl.
After Rychy ate the obviously-spat-upon fruit bowl, they paid the check and we left.
I'm not sure who's running these IHOPs, but they're a gold mine for bloggable material. Keep up the good work, IHOP.
http://luckylifeblog.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-last-possibly-forever-visit-to-ihop.html
If you looked at the comments on the aforementioned blog, my friend Chad suggested that future visits to IHOP be made only in the middle of the night.
Well, I took his advice. The result was yet another epic fail.
This time, I went a step further than just altering my appearance time. I didn't order anything but a glass of water.
It was a post-poker session IHOP visit with my friends Brian and Rychy at about 4:30 a.m. I wasn't hungry, I was just there to chill.
We waited the standard 5 minutes in a nearly-empty restaurant just to get someone to look at us and seat us. Then the waiter came by and asked what we wanted to drink. We all wanted water, but Rychy also wanted an orange juice.
The drinks actually came out in a timely manner. This was the beginning and the end of what IHOP did right during our visit. The drinks were timely but not entirely correct. The waiter brought two waters and an orange juice, and Rychy politely asked again for a water to go with his juice.
In the time between when our drinks came and when he took our orders, our waiter could have driven across town to his local drug dealer, conducted a seamless transaction, and returned to our table. I'm not saying that's what happened, just that it theoretically could have happened within that amount of time.
When he came back, he still didn't have Rychy's water, so Rychy asked for it again. Then the waiter took their orders. (I have to point out the irony of Rychy's order. He got the "Slim-N-Fit Egg Breakfast" but asked to substitute pancakes for the wheat toast. He should have just said, "I'll have the Slim-N-Fit Egg Breakfast, hold the Slim and the Fit.")
In the time between taking their orders and bringing their food, our waiter could have handed out the drugs he just bought to every employee in the restaurant, enjoyed them to the fullest, and made out with one of the waitresses. I'm not saying that's what happened, just that it theoretically could have happened within that amount of time.
Finally our waiter arrived with the food. He still does not have Rychy's water. Rychy asked yet again for a glass of ice water. The boys are now ready to eat, except for one problem -- we have no silverware on the table. Instead of waiting for this drooler of a waiter to get the silverware, Brian marches right up to the hostess station and grabs a couple of sets. Problem solved.
Now there is another problem. While waiting for silverware, Rychy realizes that his meal was supposed to come with a fruit bowl. This wasn't really too hard to notice, since his entire meal consisted of some eggs, the substituted pancakes, and a fruit bowl.
In the time between the waiter came brought the food and when he came back with Rychy's water, he could have been arrested on charges of possession and distribution of drugs, hired a good lawyer, gotten out of jail and come back to finish his shift. I'm not saying that's what happened, just that it theoretically could have happened within that amount of time.
When he came back with his half-baked -- I mean half-closed -- eyes and said, "How's everrrthang, gentulllmunn?" Rychy said, "I think my meal was supposed to come with a fruit bowl." Instead of giving any kind of fake thoughtful gesture, the waiter just said, "No. It doesn't."
Rychy said, "Well, could you check on it or something, because if I'm not mistaken it was supposed to come with a fruit bowl." The waiter said, "I don't think so, but I'll check on it."
In the time between when the waiter went to check on the fruit bowl status and when he returned, he could have entered and successfully completed a 12-week drug rehabilitation program. And then relapsed. I'm not saying that's what happened, just that it theoretically could have happened within that amount of time.
Then the waiter returned with a bowl of fruit. Instead of quickly retreating back to the smoke room like he had on every other visit, this time the waiter just kind of loomed over the table. Rychy said thanks, but this guy stood around the area without saying or doing anything. To an amateur like me, it seemed like he was waiting for Rychy to take a bite so he could go back and report to his co-workers that the sucker just took a bite of the special fruit bowl.
After Rychy ate the obviously-spat-upon fruit bowl, they paid the check and we left.
I'm not sure who's running these IHOPs, but they're a gold mine for bloggable material. Keep up the good work, IHOP.
Monday, April 25, 2011
At Least the Easter Bunny Only Poops Eggs
Just like most people 2000 years ago probably didn't expect the whole "Jesus rising from the dead" thing, our Easter Sunday didn't go exactly as planned.
The plan was to go to church, and then after church they were having a huge Easter egg hunt outside for all the kids. My family in Asia was wanting pictures of Addison so we thought this would be a great opportunity.
We got Addie in her beautiful Easter dress and went to church. Because of the rain, of course, they had to move the Easter egg hunt indoors. As soon as church let out, we realized we had forgotten our camera. We sent Missy's brother Aaron home to get the camera. It's only five minutes away so we figured he'd be there in 10 minutes.
We then went to the nursery to get Addie, only to be met with some bad news. Addie had a huge blowout and had gotten poop all over her leggings and onto her Easter dress. Addison hadn't had a poop blowout in a good 6 months, but of course Easter Sunday is a great day to break that streak.
By now the camera has arrived from home. I'm really glad we had the camera so we could get pictures of a naked Addie or the poop-stained dress. One or the other.
We decided to put Addie's coat on, but other than that she was only wearing a diaper and shoes. We went to join the Easter egg hunt -- only to find that all the other kids had snatched up every single egg.
Fortunately, a mother in our church knew about Addie's plight. She had four kids of her own, so they had acquired plenty of egg plunder during their search. She took some of her kids' excess eggs and re-hid them for Addie, and Addie had a lot of fun finding them. (Thanks Karen!!)
Despite Addie's unconventional new outfit, we got some good pictures of the egg search.
Somehow, the rest of the day went pretty much as planned. We ate a great Easter dinner and took advantage of the rainy weather to take a good nap afterward.
I suppose, on a much smaller and less important scale, that our Easter was kinda like the one 2000 years ago. It wasn't at all what we expected, but it turned out pretty good in the end.
The plan was to go to church, and then after church they were having a huge Easter egg hunt outside for all the kids. My family in Asia was wanting pictures of Addison so we thought this would be a great opportunity.
We got Addie in her beautiful Easter dress and went to church. Because of the rain, of course, they had to move the Easter egg hunt indoors. As soon as church let out, we realized we had forgotten our camera. We sent Missy's brother Aaron home to get the camera. It's only five minutes away so we figured he'd be there in 10 minutes.
We then went to the nursery to get Addie, only to be met with some bad news. Addie had a huge blowout and had gotten poop all over her leggings and onto her Easter dress. Addison hadn't had a poop blowout in a good 6 months, but of course Easter Sunday is a great day to break that streak.
By now the camera has arrived from home. I'm really glad we had the camera so we could get pictures of a naked Addie or the poop-stained dress. One or the other.
We decided to put Addie's coat on, but other than that she was only wearing a diaper and shoes. We went to join the Easter egg hunt -- only to find that all the other kids had snatched up every single egg.
Fortunately, a mother in our church knew about Addie's plight. She had four kids of her own, so they had acquired plenty of egg plunder during their search. She took some of her kids' excess eggs and re-hid them for Addie, and Addie had a lot of fun finding them. (Thanks Karen!!)
Despite Addie's unconventional new outfit, we got some good pictures of the egg search.
Somehow, the rest of the day went pretty much as planned. We ate a great Easter dinner and took advantage of the rainy weather to take a good nap afterward.
I suppose, on a much smaller and less important scale, that our Easter was kinda like the one 2000 years ago. It wasn't at all what we expected, but it turned out pretty good in the end.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Arrested Development
I went to play at the WinStar Casino last weekend, the big one right on the Oklahoma-Texas I-35 border.
They were gettin' me pretty good, and I decided to take a break to go outside and talk to Missy.
I was kind of wandering around an empty part of the parking lot as we were talking, when all of a sudden a police car flew up and turned on its lights. The officer got out of the car and said, "I need you to hang up the phone."
I told Missy, "Honey, it looks like I'm getting arrested. I'll call you back."
The officer then said, "Do you have any weapons on you? Please put your arms out."
I'm not sure why he asked me about the weapons, because he patted me down even after I said no.
He then informed me that there was a kidnapping suspect on foot in the area. I waited about five minutes while he ran my ID, then let me go when it came back clean.
After my name was cleared, I tried to report to the officer that the poker players inside the casino were robbing me, but that didn't gain much sympathy either.
They were gettin' me pretty good, and I decided to take a break to go outside and talk to Missy.
I was kind of wandering around an empty part of the parking lot as we were talking, when all of a sudden a police car flew up and turned on its lights. The officer got out of the car and said, "I need you to hang up the phone."
I told Missy, "Honey, it looks like I'm getting arrested. I'll call you back."
The officer then said, "Do you have any weapons on you? Please put your arms out."
I'm not sure why he asked me about the weapons, because he patted me down even after I said no.
He then informed me that there was a kidnapping suspect on foot in the area. I waited about five minutes while he ran my ID, then let me go when it came back clean.
After my name was cleared, I tried to report to the officer that the poker players inside the casino were robbing me, but that didn't gain much sympathy either.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Our National Pasttime
On the eve of yet another season, I decided to write a few things about baseball. Here are a few baseball-related top fives.
My five favorite MLB games I personally attended:
1) Astros-Dodgers, 1988. My first ever MLB game, which happened to be at Dodger Stadium. Fernando Valenzuela got rocked that day, but the Dodgers went on to win the World Series that season.
2) Expos-Cubs, 1998. My high school graduation gift was a trip to Chicago with my parents to see a Cubs series. This was my first Wrigley Field experience. Once you go to Wrigley, everything else pales in comparison.
3) Cardinals-Braves, 1993. We always went to one game a year in Atlanta when we visited my grandparents, and this season we just so happened to pick the so-called "fire game," when a luxury suite at Fulton County Stadium caught on fire and the game was delayed a few hours. The Braves made a frantic late-season comeback to make the playoffs that season, thanks in large part to a trade for slugger Fred McGriff. The "fire game" was McGriff's first game as a Brave, and with the crowd already buzzing because of the trade, the fire, and the pennant race, the Crime Dog hit a grand slam to propel the home team to victory.
4) Cubs-Cardinals, 1999. I went to St. Louis with dad during the height of the steroid era. But we didn't know about the 'roids, so the Mark McGwire-Sammy Sosa duel was still somewhat pure. We attended a 3-game series, and Big Mac and Slammin Sammy hit three homers each.
5) Pirates-Cubs, 2002. I went on a baseball road trip with my best friends Chad and Kevin to celebrate our college graduation, but unfortunately I was afflicted with mono and was pretty sick the whole trip (I didn't know it was mono at the time). We got to Wrigley early to get front-row bleacher seats, and I snagged two balls in batting practice. Sammy Sosa hit a three-run homer late in the second game of the doubleheader to propel the Cubs to victory.
I had to leave out some great games to make this list.
My 5 favorite baseball movies:
1) Field of Dreams -- I cry at the end every single time
2) Major League -- Charlie Sheen wins
3) Eight Men Out -- I wrote a 25-page paper on the 1919 Black Sox in college.
4) A League of Their Own -- "There's no crying in baseball!"
5) The Sandlot -- "You're killing me, Smalls!"
Yes, I know everyone else likes Bull Durham. I just thought it was OK.
My 5 favorite MLB broadcasters/commentators
1) Steve Stone -- Still mad at the Cubs for getting rid of him. He's the freaking man.
2) Vin Scully -- A living legend.
3) Harold Reynolds -- He did something stupid and got canned from ESPN, but he's still bringin' it on MLB Network.
4) Dan Shulman -- The best play-by-play guy in the business today. I liked Jon Miller, but ESPN decided to dump him and Joe Morgan in favor of a team led by Shulman. Joe Morgan is an idiot, so I'm all for any change that eliminates him from the airwaves.
5) Harry Caray and Ron Santo -- Even though it's not journalistically proper, they were essentially fans on the air, voicing their joy and pain on every Cubs game. They were a big reason I became a Cubs fan. RIP boys.
My 5 favorite Opening Day Traditions:
1) I usually watch "Field of Dreams" on or around Opening Day, though I don't believe I've been able to since Addison was born.
2) Grilling hot dogs, polish sausage, etc. during the games
3) Sunflower seeds.
4) Watching all the Opening Day games, even games I don't care about in the least any other day of the year.
5) Watching every pitch of the Cubs game, then realizing how bad they will be so I don't have to watch any more the rest of the year.
Five miscellaneous baseball-related items
1) Baseball video games -- Good times, good times. There's the old-school Nintendo games (RBI takes the cake) and the ridiculously realistic new ones. Just a couple weeks ago, I was playing MLB The Show with Scott. Game tied, bottom of the ninth, me in the field, Scott with runners on first and third. He does a double steal, and while his runner is about to walk right into a tag at the plate, my catcher throws down to second base and lets the winning run score. Arghhh!!!
2) Little League baseball -- Apparently, I ran to third the first time I actually hit a baseball into play. And who didn't love getting "suicides" and Fun Dips after every game?
3) Sneaking into better seats at MLB games -- I once got into the players' wives section right behind the plate at the Ballpark in Arlington. A good view indeed.
4) College baseball -- More ping, less bling. In high school, we'd often go to the OU games after school. We'd sit right behind the dugout and harass the umps and opposing teams. Real mature.
5) Jamey Wright -- Every season, I think he'll surely be out of the big leagues, but he always finds a home. In fact, he's had a lot of homes (Colorado, Milwaukee, St. Louis, Kansas City, Colorado again, San Francisco, Texas, Kansas City again, Cleveland, and Seattle) and his career record is less than spectacular (career record of 83-118, ERA of 5.00 in 15 major league seasons). But he's a fellow graduate of Westmoore High School, and he gave my mom and I tickets to see the Rockies and Cubs at Wrigley Field one year, which he certainly didn't have to do. He's had a great spring in the Mariners camp and looks like he'll be in Seattle this season. Best of luck to him.
Feel free to post your own top fives or comment on mine. Merry Opening Day!
My five favorite MLB games I personally attended:
1) Astros-Dodgers, 1988. My first ever MLB game, which happened to be at Dodger Stadium. Fernando Valenzuela got rocked that day, but the Dodgers went on to win the World Series that season.
2) Expos-Cubs, 1998. My high school graduation gift was a trip to Chicago with my parents to see a Cubs series. This was my first Wrigley Field experience. Once you go to Wrigley, everything else pales in comparison.
3) Cardinals-Braves, 1993. We always went to one game a year in Atlanta when we visited my grandparents, and this season we just so happened to pick the so-called "fire game," when a luxury suite at Fulton County Stadium caught on fire and the game was delayed a few hours. The Braves made a frantic late-season comeback to make the playoffs that season, thanks in large part to a trade for slugger Fred McGriff. The "fire game" was McGriff's first game as a Brave, and with the crowd already buzzing because of the trade, the fire, and the pennant race, the Crime Dog hit a grand slam to propel the home team to victory.
4) Cubs-Cardinals, 1999. I went to St. Louis with dad during the height of the steroid era. But we didn't know about the 'roids, so the Mark McGwire-Sammy Sosa duel was still somewhat pure. We attended a 3-game series, and Big Mac and Slammin Sammy hit three homers each.
5) Pirates-Cubs, 2002. I went on a baseball road trip with my best friends Chad and Kevin to celebrate our college graduation, but unfortunately I was afflicted with mono and was pretty sick the whole trip (I didn't know it was mono at the time). We got to Wrigley early to get front-row bleacher seats, and I snagged two balls in batting practice. Sammy Sosa hit a three-run homer late in the second game of the doubleheader to propel the Cubs to victory.
I had to leave out some great games to make this list.
My 5 favorite baseball movies:
1) Field of Dreams -- I cry at the end every single time
2) Major League -- Charlie Sheen wins
3) Eight Men Out -- I wrote a 25-page paper on the 1919 Black Sox in college.
4) A League of Their Own -- "There's no crying in baseball!"
5) The Sandlot -- "You're killing me, Smalls!"
Yes, I know everyone else likes Bull Durham. I just thought it was OK.
My 5 favorite MLB broadcasters/commentators
1) Steve Stone -- Still mad at the Cubs for getting rid of him. He's the freaking man.
2) Vin Scully -- A living legend.
3) Harold Reynolds -- He did something stupid and got canned from ESPN, but he's still bringin' it on MLB Network.
4) Dan Shulman -- The best play-by-play guy in the business today. I liked Jon Miller, but ESPN decided to dump him and Joe Morgan in favor of a team led by Shulman. Joe Morgan is an idiot, so I'm all for any change that eliminates him from the airwaves.
5) Harry Caray and Ron Santo -- Even though it's not journalistically proper, they were essentially fans on the air, voicing their joy and pain on every Cubs game. They were a big reason I became a Cubs fan. RIP boys.
My 5 favorite Opening Day Traditions:
1) I usually watch "Field of Dreams" on or around Opening Day, though I don't believe I've been able to since Addison was born.
2) Grilling hot dogs, polish sausage, etc. during the games
3) Sunflower seeds.
4) Watching all the Opening Day games, even games I don't care about in the least any other day of the year.
5) Watching every pitch of the Cubs game, then realizing how bad they will be so I don't have to watch any more the rest of the year.
Five miscellaneous baseball-related items
1) Baseball video games -- Good times, good times. There's the old-school Nintendo games (RBI takes the cake) and the ridiculously realistic new ones. Just a couple weeks ago, I was playing MLB The Show with Scott. Game tied, bottom of the ninth, me in the field, Scott with runners on first and third. He does a double steal, and while his runner is about to walk right into a tag at the plate, my catcher throws down to second base and lets the winning run score. Arghhh!!!
2) Little League baseball -- Apparently, I ran to third the first time I actually hit a baseball into play. And who didn't love getting "suicides" and Fun Dips after every game?
3) Sneaking into better seats at MLB games -- I once got into the players' wives section right behind the plate at the Ballpark in Arlington. A good view indeed.
4) College baseball -- More ping, less bling. In high school, we'd often go to the OU games after school. We'd sit right behind the dugout and harass the umps and opposing teams. Real mature.
5) Jamey Wright -- Every season, I think he'll surely be out of the big leagues, but he always finds a home. In fact, he's had a lot of homes (Colorado, Milwaukee, St. Louis, Kansas City, Colorado again, San Francisco, Texas, Kansas City again, Cleveland, and Seattle) and his career record is less than spectacular (career record of 83-118, ERA of 5.00 in 15 major league seasons). But he's a fellow graduate of Westmoore High School, and he gave my mom and I tickets to see the Rockies and Cubs at Wrigley Field one year, which he certainly didn't have to do. He's had a great spring in the Mariners camp and looks like he'll be in Seattle this season. Best of luck to him.
Feel free to post your own top fives or comment on mine. Merry Opening Day!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
The Lucky Zone
Tomorrow I leave to go to Southern California for a week to play poker and hopefully make some money.
As I'm packing for the trip, I was reminded of a similar poker trip that didn't go so well.
This was back when we lived in Lawton. A couple of guys I played with had received a free room at the Palazzo on the Vegas strip, and there was a special airfare deal for $125 round-trip from OKC to Vegas. (Non-stop flights too. Good luck finding that these days).
These guys were both middle-aged family men, and they planned to play a lot of tournaments while I prefer the cash games. So I figured we'd sleep in the same room but otherwise wouldn't see each other a lot.
The trip started with them picking me up at home around 6 a.m. to drive to OKC for the flight. We stopped at a gas station in town, and it was there that I discovered that one of my weekend companions, who I'll call "James", was an abject racist. He made several inappropriate comments about the clientele of the convenience store and how he generally refuses to go there for that reason.
Okie dokie, then.
I didn't say a word to him all the way to Vegas. When we got there, I decided to play the first tournament that these guys were entering. It had already been running about half an hour but you were allowed to register late and they immediately gave me a seat.
I folded about 5 hands before picking up pocket aces. Before it was my turn, two people had gone all-in ahead of me! I was excited to call and see that I was up against K-J and A-Q. I have an 81 percent chance to win this hand and build a huge stack immediately. Instead, the A-Q finds a way to win and knock me out of the tournament. So I've been in the Venetian less than 15 minutes and am already down $350.
I walked over to Caesar's Palace (no short stroll) and got in a cash game there. I'll spare the details, but needless to say it was not a pleasant experience. Keep in mind, this is back when I still worked full-time at the paper. I was doing well at poker but I had a much smaller budget for it than I do now. I wasn't losing money I couldn't afford but I still felt like crap for being 2,000 miles away from Missy and dropping a fairly significant amount of money.
So I moped all the way back to the Palazzo and decided to call it a day and go to bed early. When I got back to the room, I walked in to find that my new racist friend "James" liked to sleep in the nude. Awesome.
I grabbed a pillow and slept on the sectional sofa in the other part of the room, but the sections kept slowly drifting apart like glaciers, and I would slump in the middle. Still, I never even considered going back to the naked racist. No need to discover three new things about him in one day.
The second day of our three-day trip went about like the first. Poker took a dump on me, and life wasn't much better. I remember getting ripped off at Chipotle for about $2 and being too depressed to even say anything to the cashier.
I decided I had lost enough for one weekend, which meant I was stuck in Vegas for another 36 hours with money to eat on but nothing else.
The other guy who went with us played craps and blackjack a decent amount, and he was pretty cool to me when he found out I was busto. I went to a craps table with him and he told me to roll for him. I threw the dice way up in the air because, as everyone knows, the "lucky zone" in craps is 8 to 9 feet above the table. There's no telling where the dice will end up when you throw them that high, but you're guaranteed to win.
I won several throws in a row, and soon the whole table was excited. Some had been skeptics of the "lucky zone," but now they saw it with their own eyes.
Unfortunately, casino management was not a huge fan of the "lucky zone," especially since the dice bounce all the way off the table about one in three times. They don't really like that. I won about six games in a row, but when I finally lost I was politely asked to leave the table.
That was a fun way to pass the time, but I couldn't get back to Oklahoma fast enough.
Now, I can only hope that the week I spend in California goes a little better than that.
As I'm packing for the trip, I was reminded of a similar poker trip that didn't go so well.
This was back when we lived in Lawton. A couple of guys I played with had received a free room at the Palazzo on the Vegas strip, and there was a special airfare deal for $125 round-trip from OKC to Vegas. (Non-stop flights too. Good luck finding that these days).
These guys were both middle-aged family men, and they planned to play a lot of tournaments while I prefer the cash games. So I figured we'd sleep in the same room but otherwise wouldn't see each other a lot.
The trip started with them picking me up at home around 6 a.m. to drive to OKC for the flight. We stopped at a gas station in town, and it was there that I discovered that one of my weekend companions, who I'll call "James", was an abject racist. He made several inappropriate comments about the clientele of the convenience store and how he generally refuses to go there for that reason.
Okie dokie, then.
I didn't say a word to him all the way to Vegas. When we got there, I decided to play the first tournament that these guys were entering. It had already been running about half an hour but you were allowed to register late and they immediately gave me a seat.
I folded about 5 hands before picking up pocket aces. Before it was my turn, two people had gone all-in ahead of me! I was excited to call and see that I was up against K-J and A-Q. I have an 81 percent chance to win this hand and build a huge stack immediately. Instead, the A-Q finds a way to win and knock me out of the tournament. So I've been in the Venetian less than 15 minutes and am already down $350.
I walked over to Caesar's Palace (no short stroll) and got in a cash game there. I'll spare the details, but needless to say it was not a pleasant experience. Keep in mind, this is back when I still worked full-time at the paper. I was doing well at poker but I had a much smaller budget for it than I do now. I wasn't losing money I couldn't afford but I still felt like crap for being 2,000 miles away from Missy and dropping a fairly significant amount of money.
So I moped all the way back to the Palazzo and decided to call it a day and go to bed early. When I got back to the room, I walked in to find that my new racist friend "James" liked to sleep in the nude. Awesome.
I grabbed a pillow and slept on the sectional sofa in the other part of the room, but the sections kept slowly drifting apart like glaciers, and I would slump in the middle. Still, I never even considered going back to the naked racist. No need to discover three new things about him in one day.
The second day of our three-day trip went about like the first. Poker took a dump on me, and life wasn't much better. I remember getting ripped off at Chipotle for about $2 and being too depressed to even say anything to the cashier.
I decided I had lost enough for one weekend, which meant I was stuck in Vegas for another 36 hours with money to eat on but nothing else.
The other guy who went with us played craps and blackjack a decent amount, and he was pretty cool to me when he found out I was busto. I went to a craps table with him and he told me to roll for him. I threw the dice way up in the air because, as everyone knows, the "lucky zone" in craps is 8 to 9 feet above the table. There's no telling where the dice will end up when you throw them that high, but you're guaranteed to win.
I won several throws in a row, and soon the whole table was excited. Some had been skeptics of the "lucky zone," but now they saw it with their own eyes.
Unfortunately, casino management was not a huge fan of the "lucky zone," especially since the dice bounce all the way off the table about one in three times. They don't really like that. I won about six games in a row, but when I finally lost I was politely asked to leave the table.
That was a fun way to pass the time, but I couldn't get back to Oklahoma fast enough.
Now, I can only hope that the week I spend in California goes a little better than that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
