The JFK Perspective Part 2
When you get home at 4AM...10AM comes pretty quick even though it is six hours away. 10AM is the traditional start time of the GAME the morning after the start. It usually starts with Eric and Greg waking up, and shotgunning a beer.
That was not the case this year.
Perhaps this reflects a new found maturity? Perhaps this reflects their age? Perhaps they were just hungry instead. I don't know but I was grateful. The simple act of them doing it so early in the AM can sometime cause me to seek out areas with more oxygen. I feel light headed and the room begins to spin. At these moments, my saliva glands kick into overdrive and I just have too much spit.
As is, they did not shotgun so I did not have to spit. We commenced the game...but nothing really changed. Eric resumed his relentless assault on 400.
The second day is also known as 'silly clothes' day. This is when we all wear sporting colors of our favorite teams or sweaters from more mundane sports. Here is a simple photo of Greg in his silly kilt. Like all good Scots, Greg goes native. We really don't appreciate that. He knows it...and revels in it.
The game can become brutal. There was one point that I lost 6 of 8 hands. It becomes ugly. You change your clothes with the hope that it will change your luck. Fortunately, by donning the Kevin Fox Band concert t-shirt, my luck turned for the better. Unfortunately, here is an example hand of Eric's luck when he led the 3 of diamonds.
Now, for the Heart's novices out their...Eric led the 3...Greg played the 10 of Hearts (which is 1 point). I played the 2 of diamonds (which is under Eric)...and Graham threw the big lady (worth 13 points). Eric was not happy.
But that is how it goes and soon...the inevitable was over. Eric became the first wire to wire winner...ahhhh...loser of hearts. Well done Eric!
Here we see Eric receiving the Plaque from last years loser Greg. Eric now has a commanding lead of 6 losses.
The awarding of the plaque signals the start of our focused enjoyment on the city of our choice. Fortunately, Charleston has lots more to offer than places like South Dakota. Off we went into town and settled into a Sunday afternoon of football. When endeavouring in such activities, it is inevitable that we become good friends with the locals.
We typically bounce around and look to partake in various people and places. At one point, we became good mates of the local fencing coach and learned various things about calvary swords, rapiers, cutlasses, sabres, kitanas, and scimitars. I don't think I impressed him too much when I asked whether Glamdring or Orcrist was the better sword. Only Eric was attentive to that question.
We moved on...but not before I celebrated when I read the following:
Of course we all now know that there was no gas in the tank. The Twins expended all they had in winning the division. While I would have liked to see a better effort, I say Good On 'Em. That Aussie for 'way to go'.
We finally settled into a restaurant with a live band. They were playing old tunes that made me feel really nostalgic. It was a bit surreal as I listened in this foreign place that was in the US. It was weird being a person from Minnesota via Sydney in the deep South listening to Bob Dylan tunes. Too many realities to think about.
When a mate looks like Eric above, you know you need to send him home. The fact that I had the presence of mind to snap this meant I wasn't ready to go...so Graham and I closed down Charleston for the second straight night.
No Dink. No Waffle house. Plenty of God.
Game over.
That was not the case this year.
Perhaps this reflects a new found maturity? Perhaps this reflects their age? Perhaps they were just hungry instead. I don't know but I was grateful. The simple act of them doing it so early in the AM can sometime cause me to seek out areas with more oxygen. I feel light headed and the room begins to spin. At these moments, my saliva glands kick into overdrive and I just have too much spit.
As is, they did not shotgun so I did not have to spit. We commenced the game...but nothing really changed. Eric resumed his relentless assault on 400.
The second day is also known as 'silly clothes' day. This is when we all wear sporting colors of our favorite teams or sweaters from more mundane sports. Here is a simple photo of Greg in his silly kilt. Like all good Scots, Greg goes native. We really don't appreciate that. He knows it...and revels in it.
The game can become brutal. There was one point that I lost 6 of 8 hands. It becomes ugly. You change your clothes with the hope that it will change your luck. Fortunately, by donning the Kevin Fox Band concert t-shirt, my luck turned for the better. Unfortunately, here is an example hand of Eric's luck when he led the 3 of diamonds.
Now, for the Heart's novices out their...Eric led the 3...Greg played the 10 of Hearts (which is 1 point). I played the 2 of diamonds (which is under Eric)...and Graham threw the big lady (worth 13 points). Eric was not happy.
But that is how it goes and soon...the inevitable was over. Eric became the first wire to wire winner...ahhhh...loser of hearts. Well done Eric!
Here we see Eric receiving the Plaque from last years loser Greg. Eric now has a commanding lead of 6 losses.
The awarding of the plaque signals the start of our focused enjoyment on the city of our choice. Fortunately, Charleston has lots more to offer than places like South Dakota. Off we went into town and settled into a Sunday afternoon of football. When endeavouring in such activities, it is inevitable that we become good friends with the locals.
We typically bounce around and look to partake in various people and places. At one point, we became good mates of the local fencing coach and learned various things about calvary swords, rapiers, cutlasses, sabres, kitanas, and scimitars. I don't think I impressed him too much when I asked whether Glamdring or Orcrist was the better sword. Only Eric was attentive to that question.
We moved on...but not before I celebrated when I read the following:
Of course we all now know that there was no gas in the tank. The Twins expended all they had in winning the division. While I would have liked to see a better effort, I say Good On 'Em. That Aussie for 'way to go'.
We finally settled into a restaurant with a live band. They were playing old tunes that made me feel really nostalgic. It was a bit surreal as I listened in this foreign place that was in the US. It was weird being a person from Minnesota via Sydney in the deep South listening to Bob Dylan tunes. Too many realities to think about.
When a mate looks like Eric above, you know you need to send him home. The fact that I had the presence of mind to snap this meant I wasn't ready to go...so Graham and I closed down Charleston for the second straight night.
No Dink. No Waffle house. Plenty of God.
Game over.
posted by jfk at 1:19 AM
1 Comments:
Sweet recap...I will add my perspective.
Post a Comment
<< Home