Like most long-time fans of the University of Arizona basketball team, I thought they had a chance to beat Duke last night. Maybe not a great chance, and it was far more likely that Duke would win (I had Duke winning it all on my bracket), but there was a chance. But I never once thought the Cats would do what they did in the second half last night.
I lived in Tucson from 1982 to 2007. There are no major league teams in Tucson, and the only really big-time sports in town is the U of A. Lute Olson came to Tucson a year after I did and built a collegiate basketball national power. A national championship in 1997, three other final four appearances, and twenty-five straight years of making the NCAA tournament spoiled the fans. We expected greatness every season and refused to accept anything less.
Lute's exit from the head coaching position was messy and protracted. Blue chip recruits reneged on their commitments and other talent transferred. The school hired Sean Miller from Xavier to take over the program. Miller seemed to be a good coach and had done a fine job at Xavier, but I had my doubts. Last year, the team struggled. They finished 16-15 and for the first time in a quarter century, the Wildcats did not make the NCAA tournament, or even the NIT. It was a dubious beginning for the new regime.
This year was supposed to be a rebuilding year. The only star from the team last year was Derrick Williams, now a sophomore. The rest of the team was a bunch of guys that no one knew about. The team seemed unfocused and lost in the early part of the season, but they started to jell in January. Williams was outstanding, and the supporting cast started to learn their roles. They began to exhibit a toughness and determination that they all said came from their coach. The turning point was in early February, when the team won a triple overtime game at Cal which vaulted them into first place in the Conference.
A couple of weeks later, they came to Tempe, AZ to play their arch-rivals the ASU Sun Devils, who had been awful all season. I went to that game and saw a first-place Wildcat team that looked terrible. Williams was off his game and the entire team played without much fire. They won by 15. I thought to myself if they can play so badly and still win by that much of a margin, then this just might be a special team.
The Wildcats got manhandled in LA on the next to last weekend of the regular season and lost to both USC and UCLA. But they won their final two games at home and won the Pac 10 Conference regular season. They lost the championship game of the Conference tournament to Washington on a last-second shot, but looked forward to a return to the Big Dance.
Their first game in the tournament was against Memphis, coached by former Wildcat player and assistant coach, Josh Pastner. Pastner has put together a great, young team of quick, talented players at Memphis. They gave Arizona all they had, and the Wildcats were lucky to come out of it with a two-point win.
Next up was Texas, which had actually been ranked number one in the nation at one point early in the year. They were big, tough, and talented. No one, including yours truly, gave Arizona much of a chance to win. And, indeed, despite running out to a double digit first half lead, the Wildcats gave it all back in the second half. Texas had a two point lead and the ball with 14 seconds left. It looked like the Wildcat season was about to end. But some tenacious Wildcat defense prevented Texas from inbounding the ball and the Longhorns turned the ball over. Somehow, Williams was able to penetrate through the Texas defense, made an unbelieveable behind-the-back shot which went through the hoop, and was fouled on the play. To that point, Williams had missed free throws all night. But he sunk that last one, and the Cats held on to their one point lead, and won the game. An improbable trip to the Sweet 16 had now come true.
But be careful what you wish for. The gift for making it to the Sweet 16 was a game against the defending national champions, the mighty Duke Blue Devils, and their future Hall of Fame coach, Mike Kzryzewski. No one, except Charles Barkley, gave them a chance.
Duke looked awesome in the first half. They pretty much did anything they wanted. The Wildcats, on the other hand, were a one man team. Derrick Williams was unbelieveable, making four three-pointers, grabbing rebounds, and slamming one of them back home with a tomahawk slam which will be talked about for years. Williams scored 25 points in the first half, but the rest of the team scored only 13, and the Cats were down by 6 at halftime.
Then came the second half, which will go down in school history as the best half of basketball every played by a Wildcat team. It started with point guard MoMo Jones suddenly penetrating and scoring. Before you could take in what was happening, every player in a Wildcat uniform seemed to be grabbing rebounds, pushing the ball up the floor on a fast break, swishing in a three-pointer, or slamming a basket. Duke didn't know what hit them. The Wildcats went on a 19-2 run and never looked back. They outscored Duke 55-33 in the half, out-rebounded them 25-9, and totally dismantled them. The Blue Devils looked like they had been gutshot. They lost the game by 16 points after leading by 6 at halftime. It was unbelieveable. I'm still in shock.
In 1997, the Wildcats won their only National Championship. In the Sweet 16 that year, they played No. 1 seed, Kansas, which had been ranked number one in the country for most of the year. The Wildcats upset the Jayhawks in a tough, close game and went on to win the national championship, beating two other No. 1 seeds, North Carolina in the semi-final and Kentucky in the final. It was magical and wonderful.
I haven't felt that way about any other Wildcat team since then. Until last night. Last night's win will go down as one of the top three in school history, right there with the wins over Kansas and Kentucky in '97. Sean Miller has proven to be an outstanding coach, and a worthy successor to Lute Olson. His team is made up of one superstar and a bunch of over-achieving, hard-working young men who wear their hearts on their sleeves and play like a team, without any semblance of ego or selfishness. They are a joy to watch.
I love this year's Wildcat team. Even if they lose in the next round, they will go down in school history as one of the best ever. They have taken what was supposed to be a rebuilding year, and moved on to one game shy of the final four with a signature win that will live for the ages. I am more proud of this Arizona team than any other. Bear down, Arizona. Beat those Huskies from Connecticut on Saturday.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Academy Award special
The Academy Awards are just around the corner, and I wouldn't be a dedicated film buff and would-be reviewer if I didn't take this opportunity to put my two cents in. I haven't seen anywhere close to all the nominees, but I've seen enough to have an opinion. In a later blog post, I will be discussing a few of what I consider to be the worst Academy Award winners in Academy history. But first, my predictions and preferences:
Best Picture
The consensus seems to be that "The King's Speech" has this award locked up. My guess is that it will win, but my pick would be "Inception." My justification is the same argument I would have given last year, when I thought "Avatar" should have beaten out "The Hurt Locker." Both "Inception" and "Avatar" blew me away, they seemed fresh, exciting, and new. They were visually rich and made to be experienced on a big screen. They seemed to carve out new territory. "The King's Speech" is an excellent movie, and I will have no problem if it wins. I just don't think it's as exciting and overwhelming as "Inception."
Best Actor
Colin Firth will probably win for "The King's Speech" and I will have no argument with that. His performance was understated, subtle and magnificent. He may get beaten out by Jeff Bridges for his somewhat less-than-subtle, but equally impressive performance in "True Grit." But Bridges did win last year, and Firth's role as King George VI was much more difficult than playing Rooster Cogburn. It's not that Bridges' performance doesn't deserve an Academy Award, it's just that Firth's was better. I haven't seen the other performances other than Jesse Eisenberg for "The Social Network," and while he was very good, the other two were much better.
Best Actress
The only performance I've seen in this category is Annette Benning for "The Kids are All Right," and while the movie underwhelmed me, Benning was amazing. I have no problem with her winning the award, and only wish the Academy had had the good sense to nominate Julianne Moore for the same film, since she was equally as good. I think this award will go to Benning.
Best Supporting Actor
This is traditionally a strong category and this year seems to be no exception. I haven't seen "The Fighter", but I hear Christian Bale is excellent in that. Geoffrey Rush was fantastic in "The King's Speech" in a very difficult role and I think he will bring home the statue, although Bale could certainly win. Mark Ruffalo will have to be satisfied with his nomination, especially since so many worthy actors were overlooked (can you say "Social Network?").
Best Supporting Actress
It seems like the two favorites are the only two performances I've seen in this category. Hailee Steinfeld was simply wonderful in "True Grit," but she has clearly been nominated in the wrong category. She was the main character and had more screen time than anyone else and she should be up for Best Actress. Helena Bonham Carter was equally marvelous in "The King's Speech." Every look, every gesture was absolutely perfect in the part of the wife of King George VI. She never once upstaged Firth or Rush, yet she was unforgettable. My vote would go to her.
Best Director
How in the world is Christopher Nolan not nominated for "Inception?" He did an unbelieveable job with a difficult, challenging film. His film was a joy to watch and it was overwhelming and absorbing. His ommission is a crime. If I had a vote, I would probably boycott this category in protest. My prediction is Tom Hooper for "King's Speech," but of those nominated, I would like to see David Fincher for "The Social Network." And then I would like to see Fincher get up there and give his award to Christopher Nolan, who has been burned now for "Inception," "The Dark Knight," and "Memento". Shameful. He's the new Martin Scorcese.
Best Screenplay
As you know, there are two different awards for this, and I predict that "The Social Network" and "The King's Speech" will go home winners. Both scripts were witty, intelligent, and very entertaining.
And that's where I stop. I don't care who wins Best Song or Best Documentary or any of the others. I've made my predictions and I'm sticking to them. We'll see what happens Sunday night.
Best Picture
The consensus seems to be that "The King's Speech" has this award locked up. My guess is that it will win, but my pick would be "Inception." My justification is the same argument I would have given last year, when I thought "Avatar" should have beaten out "The Hurt Locker." Both "Inception" and "Avatar" blew me away, they seemed fresh, exciting, and new. They were visually rich and made to be experienced on a big screen. They seemed to carve out new territory. "The King's Speech" is an excellent movie, and I will have no problem if it wins. I just don't think it's as exciting and overwhelming as "Inception."
Best Actor
Colin Firth will probably win for "The King's Speech" and I will have no argument with that. His performance was understated, subtle and magnificent. He may get beaten out by Jeff Bridges for his somewhat less-than-subtle, but equally impressive performance in "True Grit." But Bridges did win last year, and Firth's role as King George VI was much more difficult than playing Rooster Cogburn. It's not that Bridges' performance doesn't deserve an Academy Award, it's just that Firth's was better. I haven't seen the other performances other than Jesse Eisenberg for "The Social Network," and while he was very good, the other two were much better.
Best Actress
The only performance I've seen in this category is Annette Benning for "The Kids are All Right," and while the movie underwhelmed me, Benning was amazing. I have no problem with her winning the award, and only wish the Academy had had the good sense to nominate Julianne Moore for the same film, since she was equally as good. I think this award will go to Benning.
Best Supporting Actor
This is traditionally a strong category and this year seems to be no exception. I haven't seen "The Fighter", but I hear Christian Bale is excellent in that. Geoffrey Rush was fantastic in "The King's Speech" in a very difficult role and I think he will bring home the statue, although Bale could certainly win. Mark Ruffalo will have to be satisfied with his nomination, especially since so many worthy actors were overlooked (can you say "Social Network?").
Best Supporting Actress
It seems like the two favorites are the only two performances I've seen in this category. Hailee Steinfeld was simply wonderful in "True Grit," but she has clearly been nominated in the wrong category. She was the main character and had more screen time than anyone else and she should be up for Best Actress. Helena Bonham Carter was equally marvelous in "The King's Speech." Every look, every gesture was absolutely perfect in the part of the wife of King George VI. She never once upstaged Firth or Rush, yet she was unforgettable. My vote would go to her.
Best Director
How in the world is Christopher Nolan not nominated for "Inception?" He did an unbelieveable job with a difficult, challenging film. His film was a joy to watch and it was overwhelming and absorbing. His ommission is a crime. If I had a vote, I would probably boycott this category in protest. My prediction is Tom Hooper for "King's Speech," but of those nominated, I would like to see David Fincher for "The Social Network." And then I would like to see Fincher get up there and give his award to Christopher Nolan, who has been burned now for "Inception," "The Dark Knight," and "Memento". Shameful. He's the new Martin Scorcese.
Best Screenplay
As you know, there are two different awards for this, and I predict that "The Social Network" and "The King's Speech" will go home winners. Both scripts were witty, intelligent, and very entertaining.
And that's where I stop. I don't care who wins Best Song or Best Documentary or any of the others. I've made my predictions and I'm sticking to them. We'll see what happens Sunday night.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Another Jet crash and burn
Being a Jet fan is like that famous quote from Godfather 3: "Just when I think I am out, they pull me right back in!" That describes it in a nutshell. Just when I think the Jets can't disappoint me anymore, they find yet a new way to do it all over again.
This year was supposed to be different. A year removed from last year's giddy and improbable run to the AFC Conference championship game, they were now supposed to be one year better and more experienced. Mark Sanchez was now a second year quarterback, the team added standout wide receiver Santonio Holmes, to go along with Braylen Edwards and Jericho Cotchery, not to mention a re-invigorated Ladanian Tomlinson, and the defense was supposedly as tough as ever.
The team did great for the first three months of the season, then backslid over the last five games, which included a blow-out loss to the Patriots and an inexplicable loss to the Dolphins. The Patriots won the division going away, but the Jets made into the playoffs as a wild card. That earned them a road game against Peyton Manning and the Colts. The Jets came through with an epic win on the road, Sanchez leading them down the field in the final minute of play for a last second winning field goal. It looked like this might indeed be a different Jets team with a different destiny.
Things only got better the following weekend at New England. The Jets were decided underdogs, but ended up handing it to the Patriots big time. Tom Brady was knocked around, hurried, and sacked all day long, and the Jets came out with one of their most inspiring playoff victories in their history. Up next was a rematch with the Steelers (the Jets had beaten them in Pittsburgh five weeks before) with the winner going to the Super Bowl.
All week long, the Jets were their normal, confident, brazen selves. They had triumphed over Manning and Brady on the road in consecutive weeks, and they were not afraid of Ben Roethlisberger. It was hard for me, as a lifelong Jets fan, not to get excited and anticipate what would be only the second Jet appearance in a Super Bowl.
But a funny thing happened on the way to the Super Bowl. The Jets forgot to show up in the first half of the Conference championship game. The defense couldn't stop anything on the first Pittsburgh drive of the game, which lasted 15 plays and ten minutes, resulting in a touchdown. On the next Pittsburgh drive, Big Ben tossed a 50-yard bomb, which Jet cornerback extraordinaire Darrelle Revis jumped in the air for and had in his arms for an interception. Except, the ball bounced off his hands, off his chest, and onto the ground. The Steelers then marched downfield for their second touchdown. Later in the first half, the defense finally stopped the Steelers, who were forced to punt. Oops! One of the Jets rushed in trying to block the punt, got no part of the football, but ran into the punter, giving the ball back to the Steelers. And let's not forget the brilliant fumble by Sanchez and run back for touchdown late in the half by Pittsburgh. If not for a last second field goal, the Jets would have been shut out in the half.
The Jets did manage to show up for the second half, and made a stirring attempt to come back. It might have even been successful if not for a ridiculous 8-minute drive which culminated with a first and goal from the 2, and the Jets foolishly calling two terrible pass plays, and ultimately failing to score. That really was the game right there. Final score, Steelers 24, Jets 19. The fourth consecutive time the Jets have lost a Conference Championship game, with only one win in their history.
Frankly, I don't want to hear that I should be proud of the team, they came so far, they got to the AFC Conference championship game two years in a row, blah, blah, blah. The unmistakeable truth is they should have beaten Pittsburgh and won that damn game, but for whatever reason they just did not show up in the first half. The offensive play-calling was terrible, and there were way too many stupid plays and foolish penalties. They beat themselves, yet again, and disappointed their long-time fans. Yet again.
I really like this team. Sanchez, Revis, Holmes, Edwards, D'Brickeshaw Ferguson, Calvin Pace. There are some truly talented football players on this team. And they love Rex Ryan and are very loyal to him. And I have to admit that I love Ryan's confidence and bluster. No Jet coach has ever taken the team this far in back-to-back seasons. It's really inexplicable why they performed so poorly last Sunday. Oh, wait a minute, there is an explanation. It's on the front of their uniforms. It's spelled J-E-T-S.
This year was supposed to be different. A year removed from last year's giddy and improbable run to the AFC Conference championship game, they were now supposed to be one year better and more experienced. Mark Sanchez was now a second year quarterback, the team added standout wide receiver Santonio Holmes, to go along with Braylen Edwards and Jericho Cotchery, not to mention a re-invigorated Ladanian Tomlinson, and the defense was supposedly as tough as ever.
The team did great for the first three months of the season, then backslid over the last five games, which included a blow-out loss to the Patriots and an inexplicable loss to the Dolphins. The Patriots won the division going away, but the Jets made into the playoffs as a wild card. That earned them a road game against Peyton Manning and the Colts. The Jets came through with an epic win on the road, Sanchez leading them down the field in the final minute of play for a last second winning field goal. It looked like this might indeed be a different Jets team with a different destiny.
Things only got better the following weekend at New England. The Jets were decided underdogs, but ended up handing it to the Patriots big time. Tom Brady was knocked around, hurried, and sacked all day long, and the Jets came out with one of their most inspiring playoff victories in their history. Up next was a rematch with the Steelers (the Jets had beaten them in Pittsburgh five weeks before) with the winner going to the Super Bowl.
All week long, the Jets were their normal, confident, brazen selves. They had triumphed over Manning and Brady on the road in consecutive weeks, and they were not afraid of Ben Roethlisberger. It was hard for me, as a lifelong Jets fan, not to get excited and anticipate what would be only the second Jet appearance in a Super Bowl.
But a funny thing happened on the way to the Super Bowl. The Jets forgot to show up in the first half of the Conference championship game. The defense couldn't stop anything on the first Pittsburgh drive of the game, which lasted 15 plays and ten minutes, resulting in a touchdown. On the next Pittsburgh drive, Big Ben tossed a 50-yard bomb, which Jet cornerback extraordinaire Darrelle Revis jumped in the air for and had in his arms for an interception. Except, the ball bounced off his hands, off his chest, and onto the ground. The Steelers then marched downfield for their second touchdown. Later in the first half, the defense finally stopped the Steelers, who were forced to punt. Oops! One of the Jets rushed in trying to block the punt, got no part of the football, but ran into the punter, giving the ball back to the Steelers. And let's not forget the brilliant fumble by Sanchez and run back for touchdown late in the half by Pittsburgh. If not for a last second field goal, the Jets would have been shut out in the half.
The Jets did manage to show up for the second half, and made a stirring attempt to come back. It might have even been successful if not for a ridiculous 8-minute drive which culminated with a first and goal from the 2, and the Jets foolishly calling two terrible pass plays, and ultimately failing to score. That really was the game right there. Final score, Steelers 24, Jets 19. The fourth consecutive time the Jets have lost a Conference Championship game, with only one win in their history.
Frankly, I don't want to hear that I should be proud of the team, they came so far, they got to the AFC Conference championship game two years in a row, blah, blah, blah. The unmistakeable truth is they should have beaten Pittsburgh and won that damn game, but for whatever reason they just did not show up in the first half. The offensive play-calling was terrible, and there were way too many stupid plays and foolish penalties. They beat themselves, yet again, and disappointed their long-time fans. Yet again.
I really like this team. Sanchez, Revis, Holmes, Edwards, D'Brickeshaw Ferguson, Calvin Pace. There are some truly talented football players on this team. And they love Rex Ryan and are very loyal to him. And I have to admit that I love Ryan's confidence and bluster. No Jet coach has ever taken the team this far in back-to-back seasons. It's really inexplicable why they performed so poorly last Sunday. Oh, wait a minute, there is an explanation. It's on the front of their uniforms. It's spelled J-E-T-S.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
The Politics of Hate
Like most of the nation, I am still stunned a day after the horrific shooting in Tucson of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and 18 other people. Six of those people died, including Federal Court Judge John Roll and the 9 year-old granddaughter of former Major League Baseball manager Dallas Green.
The truth is, I'm probably a little more stunned than most people. Tucson was my home for 25 years, from the day after I graduated from Law School in 1982 to the day I moved to Phoenix in 2007. It is still home to my mother, my brother, my sister, and my daughter and her mother. I passed the Bar exam there and began a legal career that is still going strong. I married my first wife there and had a beautiful daughter, and married my second wife there and helped to raise my two stepchildren. I met Ms. Giffords once, back when she was campaigning in what would be her first election to the U.S. House of Representatives. And I appeared in front of Judge Roll many times in Federal District Court in Tucson. I've been to that shopping center many, many times. These things are not supposed to happen in a place that you call, or have called, home.
The first reaction was one of total numbness and disbelief. That's always the case with senseless tragedies like this, but especially so when you know the place or the people whose lives have been taken for the ridiculous reason of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Judge Roll was a good man and a good judge. We weren't what you would call friends, but I appeared in his courtroom many times over the years, and I respected and admired him. The shopping center where the Safeway is located has a Chinese restaurant that I have gone to many times over the years. I don't know that I can ever bring myself to go there again.
The numbness and disbelief passes and what is left is shock and anger. Anger that some lone lunatic, obviously disturbed and deranged, is allowed to possess firearms and stalk an honorable public servant. Anger that the political discourse in this country, and especially this state, has grown so vitriolic and divisive that threats and violence are real dangers. And absolute fury that Sarah Palin can create a website that depicted certain Congressional districts on a map with crosshairs. Gabrielle Giffords was one of those members of Congress depicted by Palin as in the crosshairs of her movement. And how totally ironic and infuriating that Giffords herself pointed out the danger of being treated in such a manner. As far as I'm concerned, Sarah Palin, the Tea Party candidate who ran against Giffords, and the entire bigoted, racist, anti-Semitic movement has blood on their hands.
How did we get to this point? The political debate in this country has always been seriously divided among ideological grounds, but I don't remember it ever being this angry and divisive. There's nothing wrong with targeting certain Congressional races for a political party or movement to concentrate on, but to depict them with the crosshairs of a telescopic rifle? Not to mention the Tea Party candidate campaigning with a loaded rifle, aiming it symbolically at the incumbent. Don't these people realize that there are dangerously disturbed individuals out there who will believe that those messages are subliminal instructions to commit murder in the name of political zeal? How in God's name do these people justify their hatred and vitriol? How does Sarah Palin live with herself? Or is she such an ego-centric psychopath that she just doesn't care?
Palin actually had the nerve to state her condolences to the victims, and of course, deny that her actions had anything to do with the demented gunman in Tucson. The campaign manager of the Tea Party candidate who opposed Giffords (I refuse to use his name---my own personal decision to not humanize the cowardly s.o.b.!!) has said that there is no connection between the candidate and the nutjob gunman. They deny any responsibility whatsoever, the cowards. They make me sick.
Also dead in Tucson yesterday was Christina Taylor Green, a nine year-old girl who ironically was born on September 11, 2001, another day forever linked to senseless insanity and the horrific deaths of innocents. She was recently elected to her student council and wanted to meet her Congresswoman. And, not that it matters, but she had a famous grandfather who made a name as a Major League Baseball manager back in the 80's and 90's. She was apparently smart, loquacious, and a talented athlete. And now she is gone forever.
I mourn for my country, and my state, and the city where I lived for a quarter of a century. I don't understand why this has happened, how it can continue to happen time and time again. What is wrong with us that we have allowed our society to become like this? When will it ever stop?
The truth is, I'm probably a little more stunned than most people. Tucson was my home for 25 years, from the day after I graduated from Law School in 1982 to the day I moved to Phoenix in 2007. It is still home to my mother, my brother, my sister, and my daughter and her mother. I passed the Bar exam there and began a legal career that is still going strong. I married my first wife there and had a beautiful daughter, and married my second wife there and helped to raise my two stepchildren. I met Ms. Giffords once, back when she was campaigning in what would be her first election to the U.S. House of Representatives. And I appeared in front of Judge Roll many times in Federal District Court in Tucson. I've been to that shopping center many, many times. These things are not supposed to happen in a place that you call, or have called, home.
The first reaction was one of total numbness and disbelief. That's always the case with senseless tragedies like this, but especially so when you know the place or the people whose lives have been taken for the ridiculous reason of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Judge Roll was a good man and a good judge. We weren't what you would call friends, but I appeared in his courtroom many times over the years, and I respected and admired him. The shopping center where the Safeway is located has a Chinese restaurant that I have gone to many times over the years. I don't know that I can ever bring myself to go there again.
The numbness and disbelief passes and what is left is shock and anger. Anger that some lone lunatic, obviously disturbed and deranged, is allowed to possess firearms and stalk an honorable public servant. Anger that the political discourse in this country, and especially this state, has grown so vitriolic and divisive that threats and violence are real dangers. And absolute fury that Sarah Palin can create a website that depicted certain Congressional districts on a map with crosshairs. Gabrielle Giffords was one of those members of Congress depicted by Palin as in the crosshairs of her movement. And how totally ironic and infuriating that Giffords herself pointed out the danger of being treated in such a manner. As far as I'm concerned, Sarah Palin, the Tea Party candidate who ran against Giffords, and the entire bigoted, racist, anti-Semitic movement has blood on their hands.
How did we get to this point? The political debate in this country has always been seriously divided among ideological grounds, but I don't remember it ever being this angry and divisive. There's nothing wrong with targeting certain Congressional races for a political party or movement to concentrate on, but to depict them with the crosshairs of a telescopic rifle? Not to mention the Tea Party candidate campaigning with a loaded rifle, aiming it symbolically at the incumbent. Don't these people realize that there are dangerously disturbed individuals out there who will believe that those messages are subliminal instructions to commit murder in the name of political zeal? How in God's name do these people justify their hatred and vitriol? How does Sarah Palin live with herself? Or is she such an ego-centric psychopath that she just doesn't care?
Palin actually had the nerve to state her condolences to the victims, and of course, deny that her actions had anything to do with the demented gunman in Tucson. The campaign manager of the Tea Party candidate who opposed Giffords (I refuse to use his name---my own personal decision to not humanize the cowardly s.o.b.!!) has said that there is no connection between the candidate and the nutjob gunman. They deny any responsibility whatsoever, the cowards. They make me sick.
Also dead in Tucson yesterday was Christina Taylor Green, a nine year-old girl who ironically was born on September 11, 2001, another day forever linked to senseless insanity and the horrific deaths of innocents. She was recently elected to her student council and wanted to meet her Congresswoman. And, not that it matters, but she had a famous grandfather who made a name as a Major League Baseball manager back in the 80's and 90's. She was apparently smart, loquacious, and a talented athlete. And now she is gone forever.
I mourn for my country, and my state, and the city where I lived for a quarter of a century. I don't understand why this has happened, how it can continue to happen time and time again. What is wrong with us that we have allowed our society to become like this? When will it ever stop?
Sunday, June 13, 2010
The Desert Island---Part 3
I don't know about anyone else, but there is no way I could survive on a desert island with only CD's and DVD's to keep me company. I would have to have my favorite books along with me. So, in keeping with the theme of these posts, there are a few ground rules. I can only bring 10 books with me, and I can only bring one book per author, although if one of the authors has co-written a book with another author, then that is OK. And I'm not limiting myself to just fiction, any book which I absolutely must have with me and is one of my all-time favorites is eligible.
So, how do I pick my top ten? I'm certainly not going to pick the great classics that all the English profs love that I wouldn't pick up and read again if my life depended on it (sorry, WCK). So, you're not going to find any Dickens, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Orwell, or really any of the truly great authors represented on my list. What you'll find are the ten books that have affected me most, that I can read over and over again, that have influenced me in some fashion, or simply given me the most joy. Many are books I read when I was younger, even when I was a kid. One of these books helped influence me in my career path. And another remains my favorite book since the first time I read it. So, without further ado, here are my top 10 books, in no particular order.
1. "The Stand" by Stephen King
It should come as no shock whatsoever to anyone who knows me what my first choice would be. I have stated on this blog before that I am one of Stephen King's "constant readers", having read every one of his books and being a lifetime fan. "The Stand" came pretty early in King's career, and despite some game efforts, he has never equalled it in terms of scope and power. It is an epic in every way possible, and it tells a story that captivates almost from the first page. It presents vivid characters in compelling situations, and it starts off by killing off almost the entire population of the planet. But if there's one thing that "The Stand" does as well, if not better, than any other work of fiction, is present a fascinating and complex villain. In fact, it gives us not one, but three villains, marvelously drawn and endlessly interesting. There is Lloyd Henreid, the two-bit loser who rises up from the plague known as Captain Trips to become a powerful force in Las Vegas. There's the Trashcan Man, one of the most compelling and complicated characters in all of King's fiction. And then there is Randall Flagg, the Dark Man, the personification of evil who becomes one of the two dominating forces in the post-plague world. It's a classic tale of good versus evil, with all the usual wonderful King touches. At over a thousand pages, it is endlessly readable and never ceases to amaze. It's my all-time favorite.
2. "The Talisman" by Stephen King and Richard Straub
This is the kind of book that non-Stephen King fans love. It is not scary in any way, shape, or form, but more like an epic quest, sort of similar to "Lord of the Rings", without the complexity. Straub played the perfect foil for King and they created a wonderful tale of two parallel worlds, whose very survival depends on the success of twelve year-old Travelling Jack, and his pal, Rational Richard. They "flip" between both worlds as they fight bad guys and monsters in their quest to get the Talisman, and bring it back to save Jack's mother and the Queen of the Territories. A rich and compelling tale of heroism and sacrifice, this is a tremendous book which demands multiple readings to get the full essence of its greatness. Straub has never been better and the combination of he and King was pure magic, something they fell far short of in the sequel.
3. "Exodus" by Leon Uris
I've read most of Uris's books, but nothing has affected me quite like "Exodus." Maybe it has something to do with being Jewish, or maybe not. Uris does an incredible job of telling the story of the Jewish emigration to Palestine, the rise of the Jewish state, and the experience of these people in World War II, as they tried to survive the Holocaust. It's a powerful, touching, heartfelt story, and if it seems quaint in light of today's politics, it remains a wonderfully compelling read.
4. "The Godfather" by Mario Puzo
This choice pretty sums up what I was talking about in my introduction, I am less interested in bringing classic novels with me to my island than I am in bringing entertaining and enjoyable fiction. Many people deride this novel by stating that the movie was better, and if that is what they truly believe, they need to read the book again. The epic story of Don Vito Coreleone and his family remains an exciting, dramatic, and fascinating tale. The Godfather is fleshed out much more in the book than he was in the movie, and supporting characters such as Lucy Mancini and Johnny Fontaine are given far more time and become that much more interesting. A true American classic of history, intrigue, crime, and family values, during the tumultuous early half of the 20th century, "The Godfather" presents the classic tale of immigrants and how they made do and survived in their new country to become powerful and dangerous, without losing their character and culture. Well, at least some of them didn't.
5. "The World according to Garp" by John Irving
Has there ever been a book or main character quite like Garp? Or a supporting character such as Garp's mother, Jenny Fields? And how many books prior to this one presented a critical supporting character that was a transexual former pro football player with romance problems, a la Roberta Muldoon? Irving struck gold with this novel of vivid characters, fascinating situations, and topical issues. He successfully balanced joy and humor, with tragedy and pathos. And he does so in a readable and entertaining manner that he has never been able to attain since. No matter, Garp is his masterpiece and will make Irving memorable forever.
6. "Helter Skelter" by Vincent Bugliosi
I don't think I've ever read anything more fascinating than Bugliosi's story of the Manson family, the horrific murders they committed at the behest of their leader, Charles Manson, and the resulting trial in Los Angeles, which was prosecuted by Bugliosi. Unless you've hidden under a rock, you know the story, but it's hard to deny the fascination of reading about how it all went down, and was subsequently pieced together by Bugliosi. This was the book which influenced my career path, and I have not looked back since.
7. "Ball Four" by Jim Bouton
It's a shame that Bouton became such a pariah for writng this expose of baseball during the 1969 season. It seems almost tame by today's standards and the knowledge we now have of ballplayers. But back then, it was scandalous. Bouton was excoriated by the baseball establishment and he is still shunned by most retired ballplayers. But every kid in America back then, including the author of this blog, owned the book, and read it endlessly. I know some guys who bragged that it was the only book they ever read as a kid. And I know others who claimed that they only read it late at night, with a flashlight in their beds, long after their parents went to sleep. Quite simply, it's the best book ever written about baseball, maybe about all sports, and it is an absolute gem. Bouton should be enshrined in the Hall of Fame. Right, like that will ever happen!
8. "Seven Days in May" by Fletcher Knebel
I'm not sure why this book hit me as hard as it did when I first read it as a kid, but it did and still does. The story is compelling, the characters are rich, and the dialogue is first-rate. A wonderful Cold War thriller with a roller-coaster plot and a satisfying climax.
9. "Ragtime" by E.L. Doctorow
A great novel which combines real and fictional characters in a time that now seems almost ancient, "Ragtime" manages the difficult task of being entertaining, outrageous, and topical. The issue of racism has never been presented quite like this before, and the book manages to enthrall and enlighten at the same time.
10. "Catch-22" by Joseph Heller
An all-time classic, which manages to be funny, shocking, horrifying, ridiculous, touching, and mysterious. With a timeline which makes no sense, and a story that goes back and forth in time at a dizzying pace, Heller tells the story of Yossarian, the World War II pilot who wants nothing more than to complete his required missions and get the hell back to the states. Perhaps the best book about war ever written.
So, there it is, my top 10 list of books I need to have on my desert island. Good Heavens, in writing out my list, I've remembered a whole bunch of others that I should have, could have, included. Books like Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse Five" and Wolfe's "The Bonfire of the Vanities" should be on my list somewhere. Maybe I'll change the rules and take more than ten with me to the island.
So, how do I pick my top ten? I'm certainly not going to pick the great classics that all the English profs love that I wouldn't pick up and read again if my life depended on it (sorry, WCK). So, you're not going to find any Dickens, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Orwell, or really any of the truly great authors represented on my list. What you'll find are the ten books that have affected me most, that I can read over and over again, that have influenced me in some fashion, or simply given me the most joy. Many are books I read when I was younger, even when I was a kid. One of these books helped influence me in my career path. And another remains my favorite book since the first time I read it. So, without further ado, here are my top 10 books, in no particular order.
1. "The Stand" by Stephen King
It should come as no shock whatsoever to anyone who knows me what my first choice would be. I have stated on this blog before that I am one of Stephen King's "constant readers", having read every one of his books and being a lifetime fan. "The Stand" came pretty early in King's career, and despite some game efforts, he has never equalled it in terms of scope and power. It is an epic in every way possible, and it tells a story that captivates almost from the first page. It presents vivid characters in compelling situations, and it starts off by killing off almost the entire population of the planet. But if there's one thing that "The Stand" does as well, if not better, than any other work of fiction, is present a fascinating and complex villain. In fact, it gives us not one, but three villains, marvelously drawn and endlessly interesting. There is Lloyd Henreid, the two-bit loser who rises up from the plague known as Captain Trips to become a powerful force in Las Vegas. There's the Trashcan Man, one of the most compelling and complicated characters in all of King's fiction. And then there is Randall Flagg, the Dark Man, the personification of evil who becomes one of the two dominating forces in the post-plague world. It's a classic tale of good versus evil, with all the usual wonderful King touches. At over a thousand pages, it is endlessly readable and never ceases to amaze. It's my all-time favorite.
2. "The Talisman" by Stephen King and Richard Straub
This is the kind of book that non-Stephen King fans love. It is not scary in any way, shape, or form, but more like an epic quest, sort of similar to "Lord of the Rings", without the complexity. Straub played the perfect foil for King and they created a wonderful tale of two parallel worlds, whose very survival depends on the success of twelve year-old Travelling Jack, and his pal, Rational Richard. They "flip" between both worlds as they fight bad guys and monsters in their quest to get the Talisman, and bring it back to save Jack's mother and the Queen of the Territories. A rich and compelling tale of heroism and sacrifice, this is a tremendous book which demands multiple readings to get the full essence of its greatness. Straub has never been better and the combination of he and King was pure magic, something they fell far short of in the sequel.
3. "Exodus" by Leon Uris
I've read most of Uris's books, but nothing has affected me quite like "Exodus." Maybe it has something to do with being Jewish, or maybe not. Uris does an incredible job of telling the story of the Jewish emigration to Palestine, the rise of the Jewish state, and the experience of these people in World War II, as they tried to survive the Holocaust. It's a powerful, touching, heartfelt story, and if it seems quaint in light of today's politics, it remains a wonderfully compelling read.
4. "The Godfather" by Mario Puzo
This choice pretty sums up what I was talking about in my introduction, I am less interested in bringing classic novels with me to my island than I am in bringing entertaining and enjoyable fiction. Many people deride this novel by stating that the movie was better, and if that is what they truly believe, they need to read the book again. The epic story of Don Vito Coreleone and his family remains an exciting, dramatic, and fascinating tale. The Godfather is fleshed out much more in the book than he was in the movie, and supporting characters such as Lucy Mancini and Johnny Fontaine are given far more time and become that much more interesting. A true American classic of history, intrigue, crime, and family values, during the tumultuous early half of the 20th century, "The Godfather" presents the classic tale of immigrants and how they made do and survived in their new country to become powerful and dangerous, without losing their character and culture. Well, at least some of them didn't.
5. "The World according to Garp" by John Irving
Has there ever been a book or main character quite like Garp? Or a supporting character such as Garp's mother, Jenny Fields? And how many books prior to this one presented a critical supporting character that was a transexual former pro football player with romance problems, a la Roberta Muldoon? Irving struck gold with this novel of vivid characters, fascinating situations, and topical issues. He successfully balanced joy and humor, with tragedy and pathos. And he does so in a readable and entertaining manner that he has never been able to attain since. No matter, Garp is his masterpiece and will make Irving memorable forever.
6. "Helter Skelter" by Vincent Bugliosi
I don't think I've ever read anything more fascinating than Bugliosi's story of the Manson family, the horrific murders they committed at the behest of their leader, Charles Manson, and the resulting trial in Los Angeles, which was prosecuted by Bugliosi. Unless you've hidden under a rock, you know the story, but it's hard to deny the fascination of reading about how it all went down, and was subsequently pieced together by Bugliosi. This was the book which influenced my career path, and I have not looked back since.
7. "Ball Four" by Jim Bouton
It's a shame that Bouton became such a pariah for writng this expose of baseball during the 1969 season. It seems almost tame by today's standards and the knowledge we now have of ballplayers. But back then, it was scandalous. Bouton was excoriated by the baseball establishment and he is still shunned by most retired ballplayers. But every kid in America back then, including the author of this blog, owned the book, and read it endlessly. I know some guys who bragged that it was the only book they ever read as a kid. And I know others who claimed that they only read it late at night, with a flashlight in their beds, long after their parents went to sleep. Quite simply, it's the best book ever written about baseball, maybe about all sports, and it is an absolute gem. Bouton should be enshrined in the Hall of Fame. Right, like that will ever happen!
8. "Seven Days in May" by Fletcher Knebel
I'm not sure why this book hit me as hard as it did when I first read it as a kid, but it did and still does. The story is compelling, the characters are rich, and the dialogue is first-rate. A wonderful Cold War thriller with a roller-coaster plot and a satisfying climax.
9. "Ragtime" by E.L. Doctorow
A great novel which combines real and fictional characters in a time that now seems almost ancient, "Ragtime" manages the difficult task of being entertaining, outrageous, and topical. The issue of racism has never been presented quite like this before, and the book manages to enthrall and enlighten at the same time.
10. "Catch-22" by Joseph Heller
An all-time classic, which manages to be funny, shocking, horrifying, ridiculous, touching, and mysterious. With a timeline which makes no sense, and a story that goes back and forth in time at a dizzying pace, Heller tells the story of Yossarian, the World War II pilot who wants nothing more than to complete his required missions and get the hell back to the states. Perhaps the best book about war ever written.
So, there it is, my top 10 list of books I need to have on my desert island. Good Heavens, in writing out my list, I've remembered a whole bunch of others that I should have, could have, included. Books like Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse Five" and Wolfe's "The Bonfire of the Vanities" should be on my list somewhere. Maybe I'll change the rules and take more than ten with me to the island.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Grand Poker Series at the Golden Nugget
It was four years ago that I played in an early event at the World Series of Poker. I don't think a day has gone by that I haven't thought about it. Looking back, I know now that I wasn't ready. I really didn't have much of a clue. In retrospect, it's not surprising that I got knocked out fifteen minutes into the tournament.
Since then, I've been to a poker boot camp and learned from pros like T.J. Cloutier and Vanessa Ruosso how to play a no-limit tournament. I've played dozens, no, make that hundreds, of no-limit hold em tournaments in casinos, online, and at private homes. I've won a couple outright, chopped a victory a number of times with other players, finished at numerous final tables, and got knocked out in every which way possible. I now have a clue, and a strategy, and a game plan. I have confidence, and I always expect to do well, so that when I don't, I am disappointed.
The original game plan was to go back to the World Series this year, and play in an early event for a thousand dollar buy-in. Then, I recieved an offer from the Golden Nugget hotel to stay at an extremely discounted rate and participate in their Grand Poker Series of tournaments. Apparently, several Vegas casinos these days, including the Nugget, put on major tournament series to compete with the World Series. The buy-ins are much less than the World Series, but the competition was supposed to be stiff and the tournaments had the reputation of being extremely challenging. So, I opted to do that instead, and see how things went, as a sort of test for whether I'm ready for the World Series.
On Saturday, I played in a $135 dollar buy-in tournament. There were 372 players in the tournament, and we were in a huge room at the Nugget. Other than the WSOP four years ago, it was the biggest tournament I ever played in. The legendary poker brat, Phil Hellmuth, was there for the start and kicked it off. We started at noon with a chip stack of 12, 000 chips.
The first four hours were absolutlely brutal. Other than A-K one time, I never got a premium hand, not in the whole four hours. And when I did hit with a hand, Lady Luck kicked me in the ass. Here's an example of what I'm talking about. We were probably about an hour or so into the tournament. The player on my left was very aggressive, but not very smart. He was one of the few mediocre players I saw all day. Anyway, he had foolishly lost more than half his chips, and he was scuffling with about 4,000 or so chips left. I was in early position, and I looked at 10-J suited in spades, normally not a hand you want to play in early position. But I had barely played a hand all tournament to that point, so I put in a raise of three times the big blind, which Mr. Aggressive promptly called. The blinds also called my raise, so it was just the four of us. The flop came A-K-Q, rainbow, which means all different suits. I had flopped top straight, and I held in my emotions as I checked to Mr. Aggressive. He took the bait, and went all in. The two blinds folded, and I called. He had A-10, and almost cried when he saw that I had already made my straight. He got up to leave, and then on the river, a Jack fell, giving him a straight as well, making us chop the pot, and giving this jerk new life. And that's the way things went for the first four hours. Most of the time, I had nothing but crap, and had to fold. I won two other times when I had to chop the pot with someone, and I was watching my stack dwindle.
I made it to the second break and called my wife, telling her that I would probably be out soon. It was disgusting, crappy cards and crappy luck. I had managed to stay disciplined and patient, I refused to gamble with garbage hands, and the few bluffs I made were done when I was in position and there had been no raises in front of me. Even one of those backfired, when two 9's came on the flop and one of the other players at the table called my continuation bet after the flop. I checked the turn, and when he fired out with a bet that would have put me all in, I folded. Other than that, I remained disciplined and patient, but my stack was dwindling, the blinds were going up and it was only a matter of time.
About five hours into the tournament, I looked at my hand to see pocket aces for the first time. The big blind was 1,000 at that time, and the guy to the right of me raised to 4,000. My stack was only about 8,000, so I shoved all-in. Everyone else folded, and he called. With the blinds, antes, and our bets, there was about 21,000 chips in the pot. He showed pocket queens, I had the aces, and there was no miracle queen on the board for him, so my aces held up and for the first time that day, I won a big pot.
About a half hour later, I was the big blind, which was now 1,500. A guy three seats to the left of me raised to 4,500, and the guy next to him made it 10,000. Everyone folded around to me, and then I looked at my hand (when I am in the big blind, I don't look at my cards until it is my turn to act). I looked down at pocket aces one more time. In the big blind, of all things. I thought about how I wanted to play it, and knew that at least one of these guys, if not both, would have to be aggressive and probably call a re-raise if I made one. I wanted to make it as expensive as possible for them to call, so that if they sucked out on me (ended up with a better or winning hand with the cards on the board), they would have to pay to do so. I pushed all in with a stack of about 20,000 chips.
The first guy thought long and hard, for him to call meant throwing all his chips in, since I had him covered. He ended up folding after thinking about it for quite some time. The other guy called. There was just under 50,000 chips in the pot. I turned over pocket aces, and he turned over KQ suited. The board was an absolute blank for him, and I scooped in a huge pot, and crippled the guy, who up to that time had shown that he was a good, solid player.
The dinner break came after hour number six, and I was overjoyed to have made it that far, considering the horrible cards and horrible luck I had in the first four hours. Not to mention, the level of competition. Other than a couple of donkeys, the vast majority of poker players in this tournament were very good players, solid and somewhat intimidating. And I was holding my own with them.
The tournament continued, and I continued to play solid and disciplined. I never was able to get on the kind of run that would give me a huge, commanding stack, but I picked my spots, played aggressively when I had a good hand, or was in position, and continued to hold my own. I never got much below 35,000 chips and never quite got up to 50,000, but I continued to hold on, as hour after hour passed, and players kept getting knocked out, three of which were courtesy of yours truly.
The bubble position was 37, which meant the person who got knocked out in 37th position would be the last player to win nothing. Everyone after that would be in the money. When we got to 37 players left (including me, incredibly), they asked if we would agree to take $200 off the winner's share, and give that to the bubble. We all agreed, and so, just like that, we were all in the money. It was after midnight, and we had been at this thing for twelve hours.
I don't remember a whole lot of the next 45 minutes or so. I folded the crap I got, and went all in when I had a hand. I was no match for the monster stacks of some of the other players, and I was just trying to hold on. Several players who had been knocked out earlier in the day or night came back into the room, some of them had been at my table. They looked at me and remarked about how impressed they were that I was still there, I had been short-stacked pretty much all day and night. Obviously, it takes superb playing to last as long as I did without getting a string of great cards. I was exhausted, but still focused and determined.
At 12:55 a.m., there were 31 of us left. I looked down at A-Q suited, and went all in. Everyone folded, and I finally scooped a pot that put me over the 50,000 chip plateau. I remarked to one of the other guys at the table that it was the first time all day I had reached that milestone. The very next hand, I looked down at pocket 8's, so I figured I would be good to do it again, and increase my stack. I went all in, and then was surprised to be called by one of the monster stacks at the table, who had about 7 or 8 times as many chips as I did. When he turned over pocket aces, I could feel my heart break. And then I watched the board, waiting and praying for the miracle 8, which would allow me to continue to play. But it never came. And I was done. 13 hours and only God knew how many hundreds of hands later, I was knocked out in 31st place. That's 31st out of 372. I shook hands with several players as I got up to leave. There's a comaraderie that builds up in a poker tournament, and when you get that far in a major tournament, you win the respect of all the other players at your table. Luck can only get you so far, you need skill and solid play to get as far as I did. Especially considering the field, which was dominated by solid, excellent poker players.
I got my winnings, and headed up to my room, where my poor wife was waiting in bed, having spent 13 hours by herself in Vegas while I played in this tournament. I was exhausted, mentally drained, but absolutley exhilarated. I had made it into the money, finished 31st out of a field of 372, stayed focused and disciplined for 13 hours. I felt triumphant.
The Grand Poker Series tournament was a major test for my poker playing, and I came through with flying colors. All things considered, it was my best performance in any poker tournament, and as I write this three days later, I am proud as hell. I feel like I've turned a corner, and I will be ready for the World Series of Poker next year. I can't wait.
Since then, I've been to a poker boot camp and learned from pros like T.J. Cloutier and Vanessa Ruosso how to play a no-limit tournament. I've played dozens, no, make that hundreds, of no-limit hold em tournaments in casinos, online, and at private homes. I've won a couple outright, chopped a victory a number of times with other players, finished at numerous final tables, and got knocked out in every which way possible. I now have a clue, and a strategy, and a game plan. I have confidence, and I always expect to do well, so that when I don't, I am disappointed.
The original game plan was to go back to the World Series this year, and play in an early event for a thousand dollar buy-in. Then, I recieved an offer from the Golden Nugget hotel to stay at an extremely discounted rate and participate in their Grand Poker Series of tournaments. Apparently, several Vegas casinos these days, including the Nugget, put on major tournament series to compete with the World Series. The buy-ins are much less than the World Series, but the competition was supposed to be stiff and the tournaments had the reputation of being extremely challenging. So, I opted to do that instead, and see how things went, as a sort of test for whether I'm ready for the World Series.
On Saturday, I played in a $135 dollar buy-in tournament. There were 372 players in the tournament, and we were in a huge room at the Nugget. Other than the WSOP four years ago, it was the biggest tournament I ever played in. The legendary poker brat, Phil Hellmuth, was there for the start and kicked it off. We started at noon with a chip stack of 12, 000 chips.
The first four hours were absolutlely brutal. Other than A-K one time, I never got a premium hand, not in the whole four hours. And when I did hit with a hand, Lady Luck kicked me in the ass. Here's an example of what I'm talking about. We were probably about an hour or so into the tournament. The player on my left was very aggressive, but not very smart. He was one of the few mediocre players I saw all day. Anyway, he had foolishly lost more than half his chips, and he was scuffling with about 4,000 or so chips left. I was in early position, and I looked at 10-J suited in spades, normally not a hand you want to play in early position. But I had barely played a hand all tournament to that point, so I put in a raise of three times the big blind, which Mr. Aggressive promptly called. The blinds also called my raise, so it was just the four of us. The flop came A-K-Q, rainbow, which means all different suits. I had flopped top straight, and I held in my emotions as I checked to Mr. Aggressive. He took the bait, and went all in. The two blinds folded, and I called. He had A-10, and almost cried when he saw that I had already made my straight. He got up to leave, and then on the river, a Jack fell, giving him a straight as well, making us chop the pot, and giving this jerk new life. And that's the way things went for the first four hours. Most of the time, I had nothing but crap, and had to fold. I won two other times when I had to chop the pot with someone, and I was watching my stack dwindle.
I made it to the second break and called my wife, telling her that I would probably be out soon. It was disgusting, crappy cards and crappy luck. I had managed to stay disciplined and patient, I refused to gamble with garbage hands, and the few bluffs I made were done when I was in position and there had been no raises in front of me. Even one of those backfired, when two 9's came on the flop and one of the other players at the table called my continuation bet after the flop. I checked the turn, and when he fired out with a bet that would have put me all in, I folded. Other than that, I remained disciplined and patient, but my stack was dwindling, the blinds were going up and it was only a matter of time.
About five hours into the tournament, I looked at my hand to see pocket aces for the first time. The big blind was 1,000 at that time, and the guy to the right of me raised to 4,000. My stack was only about 8,000, so I shoved all-in. Everyone else folded, and he called. With the blinds, antes, and our bets, there was about 21,000 chips in the pot. He showed pocket queens, I had the aces, and there was no miracle queen on the board for him, so my aces held up and for the first time that day, I won a big pot.
About a half hour later, I was the big blind, which was now 1,500. A guy three seats to the left of me raised to 4,500, and the guy next to him made it 10,000. Everyone folded around to me, and then I looked at my hand (when I am in the big blind, I don't look at my cards until it is my turn to act). I looked down at pocket aces one more time. In the big blind, of all things. I thought about how I wanted to play it, and knew that at least one of these guys, if not both, would have to be aggressive and probably call a re-raise if I made one. I wanted to make it as expensive as possible for them to call, so that if they sucked out on me (ended up with a better or winning hand with the cards on the board), they would have to pay to do so. I pushed all in with a stack of about 20,000 chips.
The first guy thought long and hard, for him to call meant throwing all his chips in, since I had him covered. He ended up folding after thinking about it for quite some time. The other guy called. There was just under 50,000 chips in the pot. I turned over pocket aces, and he turned over KQ suited. The board was an absolute blank for him, and I scooped in a huge pot, and crippled the guy, who up to that time had shown that he was a good, solid player.
The dinner break came after hour number six, and I was overjoyed to have made it that far, considering the horrible cards and horrible luck I had in the first four hours. Not to mention, the level of competition. Other than a couple of donkeys, the vast majority of poker players in this tournament were very good players, solid and somewhat intimidating. And I was holding my own with them.
The tournament continued, and I continued to play solid and disciplined. I never was able to get on the kind of run that would give me a huge, commanding stack, but I picked my spots, played aggressively when I had a good hand, or was in position, and continued to hold my own. I never got much below 35,000 chips and never quite got up to 50,000, but I continued to hold on, as hour after hour passed, and players kept getting knocked out, three of which were courtesy of yours truly.
The bubble position was 37, which meant the person who got knocked out in 37th position would be the last player to win nothing. Everyone after that would be in the money. When we got to 37 players left (including me, incredibly), they asked if we would agree to take $200 off the winner's share, and give that to the bubble. We all agreed, and so, just like that, we were all in the money. It was after midnight, and we had been at this thing for twelve hours.
I don't remember a whole lot of the next 45 minutes or so. I folded the crap I got, and went all in when I had a hand. I was no match for the monster stacks of some of the other players, and I was just trying to hold on. Several players who had been knocked out earlier in the day or night came back into the room, some of them had been at my table. They looked at me and remarked about how impressed they were that I was still there, I had been short-stacked pretty much all day and night. Obviously, it takes superb playing to last as long as I did without getting a string of great cards. I was exhausted, but still focused and determined.
At 12:55 a.m., there were 31 of us left. I looked down at A-Q suited, and went all in. Everyone folded, and I finally scooped a pot that put me over the 50,000 chip plateau. I remarked to one of the other guys at the table that it was the first time all day I had reached that milestone. The very next hand, I looked down at pocket 8's, so I figured I would be good to do it again, and increase my stack. I went all in, and then was surprised to be called by one of the monster stacks at the table, who had about 7 or 8 times as many chips as I did. When he turned over pocket aces, I could feel my heart break. And then I watched the board, waiting and praying for the miracle 8, which would allow me to continue to play. But it never came. And I was done. 13 hours and only God knew how many hundreds of hands later, I was knocked out in 31st place. That's 31st out of 372. I shook hands with several players as I got up to leave. There's a comaraderie that builds up in a poker tournament, and when you get that far in a major tournament, you win the respect of all the other players at your table. Luck can only get you so far, you need skill and solid play to get as far as I did. Especially considering the field, which was dominated by solid, excellent poker players.
I got my winnings, and headed up to my room, where my poor wife was waiting in bed, having spent 13 hours by herself in Vegas while I played in this tournament. I was exhausted, mentally drained, but absolutley exhilarated. I had made it into the money, finished 31st out of a field of 372, stayed focused and disciplined for 13 hours. I felt triumphant.
The Grand Poker Series tournament was a major test for my poker playing, and I came through with flying colors. All things considered, it was my best performance in any poker tournament, and as I write this three days later, I am proud as hell. I feel like I've turned a corner, and I will be ready for the World Series of Poker next year. I can't wait.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
The final episodes of "24" and "Lost", or What in the world am I going to do on Monday and Tuesday nights from now on?
Two of my favorite TV shows wrapped up last week, "24" and "Lost." I came to both shows late, became entranced with them, caught up by renting the DVD's and then followed them to their finales. I believe that they are two of the best TV shows ever produced, and they will be missed, at least by me.
"24" was my once a week vacation from the realities of my life. It gave me a larger than life hero, exciting stories, complicated characters, and intensity from start to finish. More than that, though, "24" provided a unique premise, with each episode comprising one hour in a continuous day told in real time. I believe it's the premise more than anything which made the show work.
This season's story was great for the first few episodes and then sort of lost its way. What was missing was a dynamic villain, always a key element in "24." Finally, they brought back disgraced deposed former President Charles Logan, one of the all-time great TV villains, and the show rocked from that point on. The finale was exciting, suspenseful and touching. The final tender moment between Jack and Chloe was heart-breaking, and very well acted. It was a wonderful, albeit surprising, ending since practically everyone was expecting Jack to die. It left open the possibility of more seasons (which won't happen) or a "24" movie (which I hope to hell won't happen). And it showed once again how crucial the performance of Kiefer Sutherland has been to the success of the show. Before "24", Kiefer was a moderately successful young actor, probably best known for being the son of Donald Sutherland, and for playing the teenage punk/bad guy in "Stand by Me." "24" has provided him opportunities to grow and transform as an actor, and he has not disappointed. Kiefer has become a star, and it will be interesting to see where he goes from here.
"Lost" was a very different piece of escapism for me. A show that was often maddening in its endless mysteries and plot twists, the creators have spent this season answering all the questions. And while not everything has made perfect sense, the final episode did bring some finality.
In keeping with the show's history, the final episode was open to several different interpretations, including the very wrong "they all died in the plane crash and the entire show was just a dying dream of Jack's" (I always thought it interesting that the central character of both shows was named Jack and were actually very similar). Anyone who believes that interpretation wasn't paying attention. So here's my interpretation:
The island was a real place, complete with a special magnetic force and other mystical, special qualities. Jacob was the protector of the island, and he was flawed in his treatment of his brother, the "Man in Black", whose goal was to kill Jacob and get off the island. The island was settled by the Dharma initiative, which built a village and several scientific laboratories or stations. The others, and their offspring, including Ben, were brought to the island by the Dharma initiative. Jacob hand selected several individuals, or candidates, to come to the island to take his place as keeper of the island. He manipulated them to be on the plane, and then created the events which caused the plane to crash. Everything that happened on the island, and to the "Oceanic Six" really did happen. Jack died in the last episode re-igniting the force and light, and Hurley became the keeper of the island, while Ben became the "Number two", or the replacement for the Man in Black. The flash sideways stories of the final season was the fantasy world, how the characters would have liked their lives to have been. Those stories took place after the characters died, in some sort of after-life, and when they remembered each other and were re-united in the church, they were in that after-life place, sometime in the future after they all had died. Ben did not come into the church because he had more to do, and could not be part of the reunion.
Or, at least, that's my interpretation. It makes sense to me. And it illustrates what was so great about the show, its complexities, its different interpretations, and its fascinating story. Despite its maddening premise, the show kept me riveted week after week. The writing was great, the acting was solid, and the setting was utopian. Like "24", it provided a wonderful hour-long escape from the reality of my life. And that's what can be great about television, that you can for one hour escape into some fantasy show, and forget about your problems and everyday stresses. Both "24" and "Lost" succeeded in that admirably, and I will miss them both.
"24" was my once a week vacation from the realities of my life. It gave me a larger than life hero, exciting stories, complicated characters, and intensity from start to finish. More than that, though, "24" provided a unique premise, with each episode comprising one hour in a continuous day told in real time. I believe it's the premise more than anything which made the show work.
This season's story was great for the first few episodes and then sort of lost its way. What was missing was a dynamic villain, always a key element in "24." Finally, they brought back disgraced deposed former President Charles Logan, one of the all-time great TV villains, and the show rocked from that point on. The finale was exciting, suspenseful and touching. The final tender moment between Jack and Chloe was heart-breaking, and very well acted. It was a wonderful, albeit surprising, ending since practically everyone was expecting Jack to die. It left open the possibility of more seasons (which won't happen) or a "24" movie (which I hope to hell won't happen). And it showed once again how crucial the performance of Kiefer Sutherland has been to the success of the show. Before "24", Kiefer was a moderately successful young actor, probably best known for being the son of Donald Sutherland, and for playing the teenage punk/bad guy in "Stand by Me." "24" has provided him opportunities to grow and transform as an actor, and he has not disappointed. Kiefer has become a star, and it will be interesting to see where he goes from here.
"Lost" was a very different piece of escapism for me. A show that was often maddening in its endless mysteries and plot twists, the creators have spent this season answering all the questions. And while not everything has made perfect sense, the final episode did bring some finality.
In keeping with the show's history, the final episode was open to several different interpretations, including the very wrong "they all died in the plane crash and the entire show was just a dying dream of Jack's" (I always thought it interesting that the central character of both shows was named Jack and were actually very similar). Anyone who believes that interpretation wasn't paying attention. So here's my interpretation:
The island was a real place, complete with a special magnetic force and other mystical, special qualities. Jacob was the protector of the island, and he was flawed in his treatment of his brother, the "Man in Black", whose goal was to kill Jacob and get off the island. The island was settled by the Dharma initiative, which built a village and several scientific laboratories or stations. The others, and their offspring, including Ben, were brought to the island by the Dharma initiative. Jacob hand selected several individuals, or candidates, to come to the island to take his place as keeper of the island. He manipulated them to be on the plane, and then created the events which caused the plane to crash. Everything that happened on the island, and to the "Oceanic Six" really did happen. Jack died in the last episode re-igniting the force and light, and Hurley became the keeper of the island, while Ben became the "Number two", or the replacement for the Man in Black. The flash sideways stories of the final season was the fantasy world, how the characters would have liked their lives to have been. Those stories took place after the characters died, in some sort of after-life, and when they remembered each other and were re-united in the church, they were in that after-life place, sometime in the future after they all had died. Ben did not come into the church because he had more to do, and could not be part of the reunion.
Or, at least, that's my interpretation. It makes sense to me. And it illustrates what was so great about the show, its complexities, its different interpretations, and its fascinating story. Despite its maddening premise, the show kept me riveted week after week. The writing was great, the acting was solid, and the setting was utopian. Like "24", it provided a wonderful hour-long escape from the reality of my life. And that's what can be great about television, that you can for one hour escape into some fantasy show, and forget about your problems and everyday stresses. Both "24" and "Lost" succeeded in that admirably, and I will miss them both.
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