Brantford Scrabble Tourney Post Mortem
Since I spend lots of nights up reading or writing or blogging lately, it makes it tougher to get a good night's sleep before the tourney in Brantford yesterday. I go to bed around midnight and manage to get to sleep by 12:30, only to wake with a wild dream a mere three hours later.
I'm with a group of about a dozen friends in a club/bar-type place with a bowling alley crammed into it. We're paired up and I don't recognize my bowling partner, but we are having a tough time knocking down any pins. We aren't using bowling balls. Instead, we're hurling down the alley giant watermelons. How can you go back to sleep after that?
Oh, and I awake excited and curious about a cool looking motorbike just my (diminutive) size I spotted earlier in the day. Only it's not a bike. It's a moped. I thought that I have to have it, and spend the next hour online searching for it and trying to justify to myself that I will one day ride such a beast. Still curious? It's listed on Mr. Moped as Tomos Streetmate and I can't afford it anyway. But it's fun to dream. Even if only a daydream.
So I try to sleep for another hour or so. Not happening. Too much activity going on in my brain. I can't relax and focus on sleep. So I lay there, meditating on the previous day's fun and excitement and on the day ahead until it's time to get up and get ready for Vera who's going to pick me up and drive me to our tourney destination.
Vera doesn't get much sleep either and asks me to drive and I happily oblige. After picking up Dain by Roncessvales, it's a smooth drive west, through the Hamilton area and lots of pretty trees changing colours. I come to the realization that I miss taking road trips. Weekend getaways like I used to do every year. Even just to Niagara Falls or Kleinberg. The last one I recall was back in February, when I took my girlfriend at the time to the quaint little town of Creemore, Ontario.
We get to Brantford an hour before the tourney start and I'm giddy with adrenaline. My division goes from 1300- to 1600-rated players. With an NSA rating of 1338, I'm near the bottom-third of division two (out of five). I expect to do better than what my rating suggests and hope to place in the money and boost my rating above 1400.
I already have a bowl of granola with soy milk in my tummy, but I'm now a Hungry Hungry Hippo . All they have for us at this time is a huge assortment of doughnuts. I down a dutchie and a Timbit along with two styrofoam cups full of orange juice. By the time the first game is underway, the sugar rush transforms into sugar withdrawal and my mind is struggling to maintain focus.
I have a really rough start. Playing a middle-aged German lady named Hilda Schlechter, I go on a fishing expedition for a few turns (unlike me) while holding GOALIE + E, NOISES + E and SENIOR + E. I really should spend some study time on these common stems. I miss getting down EOSINES. I know there are lots more common sevens and even more eights in there, but the board isn't that open. I end up going over three minutes overtime (also unlike me lately) while searching for a bingo to at least get me close. Final score: 202-411. Yikes!
Second game is against a quiet man by the name of Tim Knowles. I've met Tim before at the Mississauga Scrabble club. I get an early lead with TONNAGE (though NEGATON I don't see, may have worked better dangling that last letter in the triple triple lane). He responds with BOUNTIED and the game is pretty even until his next bingo, OUTSLID*, which I hold him on. Eventually I let it go (I later discover that there's only TOLUIDS in that rack). Worse yet, I hook an E on it to make OUTSLIDE* (only TOLUIDES, SOLITUDE) which thankfully goes unchallenged as well. Near the end I draw the Q and get stuck with it. Final score 340-393.
*Phoneys, all of 'em (all future non-words in caps will have the * after them so you know they're unacceptable in the official Tournament Word List).
So I dig myself a big hole, just two games in an an 0-2, -262 record. There's gonna be a big bluff to climb out of if I am to try to place in this field of 24. Especially since I'm rated in the bottom third heading in.
Next up is a former expert player from Detroit named Danny Schey, whose NSA rating is 1527 going in. I ask him how long he's been playing and he tells me "probably since before you were born." I tell him I'm 33 and he says, "Oh, I thought you were younger than that." I guess I look like I'm 25 to him, since he's been playing since 1979. Well, so have I. My brother and I used to play since I was about seven. So I'd call it even. Although there's a big difference between kitchen-table Scrabble and competititve Scrabble, as you're about to learn (if you dare read on)....
Early in our game, while holding ENORRST, I prayed for another T and he laid one down for me and I immediately slapped down TORRENTS. No, I didn't see SNORTER, the natural on my rack. With two tiles left in the bag, holding CEITUV? I got a nice OUTVoICE play down through the second O for 62 points. I carefully marked my blank designation form, marked my score and cumulative score (cume) and drew the final two tiles. Only then did he say "hold!" but I already knew (with about 90% certainty) that it was good. Final score: 400-343.
Next comes lunch. Yummy vegetarian chili with extra chili powder for me. I meet up with Tia Knowles, the daughter of Tim, whom I played in game two. I had met her at previous tourneys, but she always seemed such a kid. Turns out she's now 23, just a year younger than my last girlfriend. She says that she'll try to make it out to my Scrabble in the City night some time.
The schlump (yes, it's acceptable; one of the six-consonant sevens) I beat before break leaves the remains of his lunch at my board, so my next opponent Jason Broersma and I have to clear it off so that we can begin game four. We joke around about it for a bit, making a friendly bet that if either of us plays SCHLUMP in this game he owes the other guy $100.
A few turns in, Jason gets down SLIDING. The next turn I lay down OUTBETS*, almost certain it's good. Turns out it's not, and I lose my turn. Two turns later and I'm holding DEENOST, but can't find a spot for its only seven, DENOTES, so I try SONETED* and fall on my face again. Turns out it's only good spelled SONNETED (anagrams to ENDNOTES). The next turn I come to and find ENDOSTEA, which draws a challenge and nets me a free turn. I find a 62-point JIBES play and pull ahead.
In a stroke of luck, I draw the dreaded Q in the last few tiles, but have a secret play awaiting. There's a P at 13C and I spy a 56-point play of QOPH (the hebrew letter) through it and pray he doesn't see it. Jason's down to less than a minute on his clock and lays down his FIST play for seven points and I pounce. Final score 407-348.
Now sitting at 2-2 with a -142 cume. I realize that I've drawn only one blank tile out of a possible eight and I have hope that I'll do alright after all. My next victim is Gene Rawlins, whom I've beaten at least the last five times at the Toronto Scrabble Club. And I'm confident as a cock. He gets the first blank and gets down CAREEEnS for 67 points and the early lead. I hold the other blank, but can't get it down jut yet. Instead I use my recent knowledge of the fours I've spent some time learning and get down HAUT to the triple for 45 points and a free turn as Gene challenges.
Now I'm up 110-102 and hold AEIIIY? and decide to spend the AY for 28 points to move further ahead. I draw more dreck, so I change five tiles, holding onto ES and later on realize that if an open L or C gets played I can get down the beautiful POTLATCH. Doesn't happen. Neither does the OVERTAX I hold in my rack, as the board gets cluttered towards the endgame. I spot an out-in-two-turns play and eke out a victory, catching Gene with eight points on his rack and win 380-364. Whew!
Next I'm up against Jim Carlton, rated 1499. I get down two bingos early on with RELATION and OPTIONAL and before long I'm up a hundred points. I mislay my tiles, getting down VANIER* (a high school in my old 'hood) instead of playing VAINER. Jim lets it go as he's got SCOOpING for a bingo, waiting to go down. The game is really close when he plays COVY* (probably confusing COVEY and CONY) and I challenge it off in a heartbeat. That turns out to be my game-saving play. Well, almost. Final score 383-383; my fourth tie in almost 500 tournament games in just over four years. We painstakingly do a recount and the score remains the same. I really want a win, and don't want to kick myself later for missing out for lack of diligence.
After a long wait for the final pairings, I'm told that Jim and I get to play each other again for the seventh and final game of the tourney. Great! What better way to settle things than with a rematch after a tie. By now it's about 6 p.m., it's dark outside and I'm struggling to stay alert. I grab a cold can of Mountain Dew (but the non-caffeinated kind) and a plateful of Rice Crispies left over from the dessert table, just in case I get the munchies or dip low on blood-sugar count again.
The first tile I look at is a blank and on my second turn lay down gUMLIKE (the only seven-letter bingo with that rack) and announce my 76-point score. Jim repeats "gumlike" aloud and I say "yep" and mark my score and cume and draw my tiles. Only then does he realize that I mislaid my tiles once again and actually played gUMILKE*, transposing the I and the L (I must have been thinking of playing YARMULKE.) Doh!
The next turn I hold AAINPVZ and see a Y to play through. I ponder playing ZAYIN for 34 points, but then think of playing ZAINY* for even more, before realizing it's spelled ZANY. Instead I play VAINY*, not learning my lesson yet. It gets challenged off and Jim gets rid of his Q with QAIDS for 40 points which puts him in the lead again. I finally play my ZAYIN and draw ALLPTVV. Great! Change five tiles the next turn (holding onto T and A, heheh) and grab a snack, take a sip and try to refocus for the rest of the game.
Next turn I get down STOAGIE* (should only be STOGIE) for another 76 points. Jim counters with EPILOGUE from H15, leaving a dangerous spot in the lower-right corner for a juicy triple-word-score if I had one of the remaining two esses. He tries to block it with a MOO play, but that only gives me more points, as I get down COoS thru his MOO for a sweet 62 points. Now I'm up by 29 points and hold DEGINOT on my rack and quickly find INGOTED but Alas! there's nowhere to put it. I find ZEIN (another hebrew letter) thru a Z and I on the board and I'm up 39 and realize I've got this game won. A few turns later and it's all over. Final score 436-397.
My final record: 4.5-2.5 with a cume of -57. Good enough for seventh place out of 24. Not bad, especially considering my dreadful start. My rating should go up about 40 points to somewhere near 1380. Still shy of my 1416 at the year's start, but it's something. Next tourney is December 17 in Cambridge, Ontario. I can hardly wait.
I drift off in the ride back to Toronto and fall asleep with my clothes on for what I intend to be just a catnap. I plan to go check out the Quintron and Miss Pussycat show at the Silver Dollar, but I'm awoken shortly after 11 p.m. by my best friend Dave, eager to hear how my tourney went. Damn, I realize that I just missed the puppet show. Oh well. I guess I need the sleep more. I can dream up my own puppet shows anyway. I stay up until 2 a.m. catching up with my email and blog and the Alexei Sayle book I'm reading and drift back asleep around 3 a.m. I awake to the sound of my alarm-clock radio at 11, but the blistering wind lulls me back to sleep until 2:30 p.m. Wow, now I'm totally caught up in sleep and feel ready to conquer the world!
I'm with a group of about a dozen friends in a club/bar-type place with a bowling alley crammed into it. We're paired up and I don't recognize my bowling partner, but we are having a tough time knocking down any pins. We aren't using bowling balls. Instead, we're hurling down the alley giant watermelons. How can you go back to sleep after that?
Oh, and I awake excited and curious about a cool looking motorbike just my (diminutive) size I spotted earlier in the day. Only it's not a bike. It's a moped. I thought that I have to have it, and spend the next hour online searching for it and trying to justify to myself that I will one day ride such a beast. Still curious? It's listed on Mr. Moped as Tomos Streetmate and I can't afford it anyway. But it's fun to dream. Even if only a daydream.
So I try to sleep for another hour or so. Not happening. Too much activity going on in my brain. I can't relax and focus on sleep. So I lay there, meditating on the previous day's fun and excitement and on the day ahead until it's time to get up and get ready for Vera who's going to pick me up and drive me to our tourney destination.
Vera doesn't get much sleep either and asks me to drive and I happily oblige. After picking up Dain by Roncessvales, it's a smooth drive west, through the Hamilton area and lots of pretty trees changing colours. I come to the realization that I miss taking road trips. Weekend getaways like I used to do every year. Even just to Niagara Falls or Kleinberg. The last one I recall was back in February, when I took my girlfriend at the time to the quaint little town of Creemore, Ontario.
We get to Brantford an hour before the tourney start and I'm giddy with adrenaline. My division goes from 1300- to 1600-rated players. With an NSA rating of 1338, I'm near the bottom-third of division two (out of five). I expect to do better than what my rating suggests and hope to place in the money and boost my rating above 1400.
I already have a bowl of granola with soy milk in my tummy, but I'm now a Hungry Hungry Hippo . All they have for us at this time is a huge assortment of doughnuts. I down a dutchie and a Timbit along with two styrofoam cups full of orange juice. By the time the first game is underway, the sugar rush transforms into sugar withdrawal and my mind is struggling to maintain focus.
I have a really rough start. Playing a middle-aged German lady named Hilda Schlechter, I go on a fishing expedition for a few turns (unlike me) while holding GOALIE + E, NOISES + E and SENIOR + E. I really should spend some study time on these common stems. I miss getting down EOSINES. I know there are lots more common sevens and even more eights in there, but the board isn't that open. I end up going over three minutes overtime (also unlike me lately) while searching for a bingo to at least get me close. Final score: 202-411. Yikes!
Second game is against a quiet man by the name of Tim Knowles. I've met Tim before at the Mississauga Scrabble club. I get an early lead with TONNAGE (though NEGATON I don't see, may have worked better dangling that last letter in the triple triple lane). He responds with BOUNTIED and the game is pretty even until his next bingo, OUTSLID*, which I hold him on. Eventually I let it go (I later discover that there's only TOLUIDS in that rack). Worse yet, I hook an E on it to make OUTSLIDE* (only TOLUIDES, SOLITUDE) which thankfully goes unchallenged as well. Near the end I draw the Q and get stuck with it. Final score 340-393.
*Phoneys, all of 'em (all future non-words in caps will have the * after them so you know they're unacceptable in the official Tournament Word List).
So I dig myself a big hole, just two games in an an 0-2, -262 record. There's gonna be a big bluff to climb out of if I am to try to place in this field of 24. Especially since I'm rated in the bottom third heading in.
Next up is a former expert player from Detroit named Danny Schey, whose NSA rating is 1527 going in. I ask him how long he's been playing and he tells me "probably since before you were born." I tell him I'm 33 and he says, "Oh, I thought you were younger than that." I guess I look like I'm 25 to him, since he's been playing since 1979. Well, so have I. My brother and I used to play since I was about seven. So I'd call it even. Although there's a big difference between kitchen-table Scrabble and competititve Scrabble, as you're about to learn (if you dare read on)....
Early in our game, while holding ENORRST, I prayed for another T and he laid one down for me and I immediately slapped down TORRENTS. No, I didn't see SNORTER, the natural on my rack. With two tiles left in the bag, holding CEITUV? I got a nice OUTVoICE play down through the second O for 62 points. I carefully marked my blank designation form, marked my score and cumulative score (cume) and drew the final two tiles. Only then did he say "hold!" but I already knew (with about 90% certainty) that it was good. Final score: 400-343.
Next comes lunch. Yummy vegetarian chili with extra chili powder for me. I meet up with Tia Knowles, the daughter of Tim, whom I played in game two. I had met her at previous tourneys, but she always seemed such a kid. Turns out she's now 23, just a year younger than my last girlfriend. She says that she'll try to make it out to my Scrabble in the City night some time.
The schlump (yes, it's acceptable; one of the six-consonant sevens) I beat before break leaves the remains of his lunch at my board, so my next opponent Jason Broersma and I have to clear it off so that we can begin game four. We joke around about it for a bit, making a friendly bet that if either of us plays SCHLUMP in this game he owes the other guy $100.
A few turns in, Jason gets down SLIDING. The next turn I lay down OUTBETS*, almost certain it's good. Turns out it's not, and I lose my turn. Two turns later and I'm holding DEENOST, but can't find a spot for its only seven, DENOTES, so I try SONETED* and fall on my face again. Turns out it's only good spelled SONNETED (anagrams to ENDNOTES). The next turn I come to and find ENDOSTEA, which draws a challenge and nets me a free turn. I find a 62-point JIBES play and pull ahead.
In a stroke of luck, I draw the dreaded Q in the last few tiles, but have a secret play awaiting. There's a P at 13C and I spy a 56-point play of QOPH (the hebrew letter) through it and pray he doesn't see it. Jason's down to less than a minute on his clock and lays down his FIST play for seven points and I pounce. Final score 407-348.
Now sitting at 2-2 with a -142 cume. I realize that I've drawn only one blank tile out of a possible eight and I have hope that I'll do alright after all. My next victim is Gene Rawlins, whom I've beaten at least the last five times at the Toronto Scrabble Club. And I'm confident as a cock. He gets the first blank and gets down CAREEEnS for 67 points and the early lead. I hold the other blank, but can't get it down jut yet. Instead I use my recent knowledge of the fours I've spent some time learning and get down HAUT to the triple for 45 points and a free turn as Gene challenges.
Now I'm up 110-102 and hold AEIIIY? and decide to spend the AY for 28 points to move further ahead. I draw more dreck, so I change five tiles, holding onto ES and later on realize that if an open L or C gets played I can get down the beautiful POTLATCH. Doesn't happen. Neither does the OVERTAX I hold in my rack, as the board gets cluttered towards the endgame. I spot an out-in-two-turns play and eke out a victory, catching Gene with eight points on his rack and win 380-364. Whew!
Next I'm up against Jim Carlton, rated 1499. I get down two bingos early on with RELATION and OPTIONAL and before long I'm up a hundred points. I mislay my tiles, getting down VANIER* (a high school in my old 'hood) instead of playing VAINER. Jim lets it go as he's got SCOOpING for a bingo, waiting to go down. The game is really close when he plays COVY* (probably confusing COVEY and CONY) and I challenge it off in a heartbeat. That turns out to be my game-saving play. Well, almost. Final score 383-383; my fourth tie in almost 500 tournament games in just over four years. We painstakingly do a recount and the score remains the same. I really want a win, and don't want to kick myself later for missing out for lack of diligence.
After a long wait for the final pairings, I'm told that Jim and I get to play each other again for the seventh and final game of the tourney. Great! What better way to settle things than with a rematch after a tie. By now it's about 6 p.m., it's dark outside and I'm struggling to stay alert. I grab a cold can of Mountain Dew (but the non-caffeinated kind) and a plateful of Rice Crispies left over from the dessert table, just in case I get the munchies or dip low on blood-sugar count again.
The first tile I look at is a blank and on my second turn lay down gUMLIKE (the only seven-letter bingo with that rack) and announce my 76-point score. Jim repeats "gumlike" aloud and I say "yep" and mark my score and cume and draw my tiles. Only then does he realize that I mislaid my tiles once again and actually played gUMILKE*, transposing the I and the L (I must have been thinking of playing YARMULKE.) Doh!
The next turn I hold AAINPVZ and see a Y to play through. I ponder playing ZAYIN for 34 points, but then think of playing ZAINY* for even more, before realizing it's spelled ZANY. Instead I play VAINY*, not learning my lesson yet. It gets challenged off and Jim gets rid of his Q with QAIDS for 40 points which puts him in the lead again. I finally play my ZAYIN and draw ALLPTVV. Great! Change five tiles the next turn (holding onto T and A, heheh) and grab a snack, take a sip and try to refocus for the rest of the game.
Next turn I get down STOAGIE* (should only be STOGIE) for another 76 points. Jim counters with EPILOGUE from H15, leaving a dangerous spot in the lower-right corner for a juicy triple-word-score if I had one of the remaining two esses. He tries to block it with a MOO play, but that only gives me more points, as I get down COoS thru his MOO for a sweet 62 points. Now I'm up by 29 points and hold DEGINOT on my rack and quickly find INGOTED but Alas! there's nowhere to put it. I find ZEIN (another hebrew letter) thru a Z and I on the board and I'm up 39 and realize I've got this game won. A few turns later and it's all over. Final score 436-397.
My final record: 4.5-2.5 with a cume of -57. Good enough for seventh place out of 24. Not bad, especially considering my dreadful start. My rating should go up about 40 points to somewhere near 1380. Still shy of my 1416 at the year's start, but it's something. Next tourney is December 17 in Cambridge, Ontario. I can hardly wait.
I drift off in the ride back to Toronto and fall asleep with my clothes on for what I intend to be just a catnap. I plan to go check out the Quintron and Miss Pussycat show at the Silver Dollar, but I'm awoken shortly after 11 p.m. by my best friend Dave, eager to hear how my tourney went. Damn, I realize that I just missed the puppet show. Oh well. I guess I need the sleep more. I can dream up my own puppet shows anyway. I stay up until 2 a.m. catching up with my email and blog and the Alexei Sayle book I'm reading and drift back asleep around 3 a.m. I awake to the sound of my alarm-clock radio at 11, but the blistering wind lulls me back to sleep until 2:30 p.m. Wow, now I'm totally caught up in sleep and feel ready to conquer the world!