Proper Football-Now that the Pirates are finished

All week long, I wait. I wait for Saturday or Sunday morning, when I can turn on the TV, boot up the internet to look for a live stream, or, best of all, head down to the Cock n' Bull to meet up with the other two West Ham fans here in the midlands of South Carolina to catch the Hammers match up against their latest foe in the perils of the EPL. Sometimes, I have to wait for a tape delayed broadcast. Most often, I can wait until it comes on before I search for the result online. Very rarely do I seek out the final score before having the chance to watch the actual match.


WW surveys the Tennessee River where Grant and the Union troops crossed to meet the Confederates at Shiloh.


So, like most of the Hammer fans this week, I was distraught when the match was postponed due to potential fan danger getting to and from the event. The despair became greater when the photos of the grounds surrounding Upton Park came out, showing clear streets and sidewalks. Of course, the more rational Hammers realized the delay could only help our team by giving them a chance to heal and field a stronger team when the two underprivileged tier teams met. When was the last time you met a rational Hammer's fan, though? I can't be counted amongst their ilk most times.

On January 2, 2010, I watched the East Carolina Pirates lose to the Arkansas Razorbacks in the Liberty Bowl in Memphis, Tennessee. When I played for the Pirates, we weren't very good. To be fair, we played a brutal schedule every year that kept us from competing for the much fewer bowl spots available in that day. I have had the chance to attend a few bowl games since then though as a fan and have had a great time at them all. This year, I took my 80 year old father and Buddy Steve and headed out to Memphis for BBQ and gambling in Tunica. With no real time to apply to a long session at the poker table, I concentrated on blackjack and got back about half of what I donated in Vegas last summer. I gave Dad five basic rules of blackjack and set him loose on a $10 table. Buddy Steve lives by his own rules, not those of the universe.

We wanted to record a hit record. We were rebuffed.


We spent a full day in Memphis and enjoyed fantastic ribs at the BBQ Shop. Go there. Now. We had big beers on Beale Street and I stopped a fight in Blues City Cafe. Unfortunately, the game did not prove to be the high point of our trip. After dominating possession and both lines of scrimmage, the Pirates had two mid range field goal attempts in the last few minutes to in. These are not quite as makeable as a penalty, but they should be darned close for a college kicker. Making matters worse, the Pirate kicker missed in overtime and the Arkansas kicker didn't. The Razorback fans, so full of pride of their big conference program (Think EPL versus Fizzy Pop) slunk out of the stadium, cautiously happy about the escape.


Chicken and Waffles. Win.


What in the world does this have to do with proper football you make ask? Well, immediately after the game, we headed back to the car for the twelve hour trip back home. I got so sleepy, I actually let Dad drive for a bit. That may not sound like a big deal, but for the last two trips I have made cross-country, I have driven all but about ninety minutes. That is about eleven thousand miles of beautiful country, almost all of which I experienced eyes wide open.


I stopped a fight inside, then had some fantastic bar-b-queued shrimp.


Anyway, we finally made it back to town with one extended stop at a Waffle House on the west side of Atlanta. I dropped Dad off and made an offer to Steve to drop him at his house or bring him along to Cock n' Bull for the FA Cup match versus Arsenal. That's right, I drove twelve hours over night (drove over ten of them at least) after being up all day drinking beer (I quit in the first quarter of the game and was dead sober by the end) to continue past my house and the arms of my loving family to sit in a dark bar and watch West Ham play a match they could not possibly win. To make matters worse, I was the only Hammer in the bar. In Columbia, there are three West Ham fans, two Spurs, a smattering of Hull and Fulham fans (due to Dempsey and Altidore), and one lonely Pompey. There are a butt-load of Arsenal fans though. They sat silently to either side and around me as I hunkered down over a Guinness, then another. Right before half, I raised my arms in silent triumph as Diamante finished like a champ. I grimaced in the second as the dream died. I paid my tab and drove home to the embrace of my kin and collapsed into bed.


The tracks out of town.


A rational fan would realize a loss early in the Cup helps the long-term prospects of WHU. Who wants to be rational though?

I have registered to play in the PokerStars World Blogger Championship of Online Poker! The WBCOOP is a free online Poker tournament open to all Bloggers, so register on WBCOOP to play.

Registration code: 887909

Sitting on a bar stool in Memphis

I stopped a potential fight in Memphis on New Year's Day while sitting on my ass, drinking beer. Somehow, a discussion between and Arkansas fan and an ECU fan about Joe Paterno in the back room of Blues City Cafe had suddenly turned very tense. Once intelligence started getting insulted, the Arkansas fan stated how he would crush the ECU fan in Jeopardy! I raised both of my arms straight into the air and bellowed, "As the only two-time Jeopardy! champion in this room, I am telling everybody to shut the hell up and drink your beer!" It worked. The ECU fan thanked me for the intervention and the Arkansas fan and I discussed the situation on the Klamath River for the next ten minutes or so.

The best part was listening to my Dad retell the story to Buddy Steve who had been out watching the Liberty Bowl Parade pass by on Beale while all this was going one. I interrupted to correct a factual mistake he was making and Dad said, "I'm not recounting facts here; I'm telling a story." I shut up and went back to my beer.

Hope everyone has a great year in 2010.

Civil War

Should a Rose Bowl berth be decided on a Thursday night?

Cheating

Cheating; I am usually against it. Some of my friends hate to play golf with me. If there is any kind of bet on the line, I make sure to state the rules of the game in appropriate situations. As a kid, most of my buddies looked to me when an interpretation of rules came up in any sport we were playing. I was, and am, a geek for the rules of the game.

Now, if you want to go out and kick your ball away from a rock or root and we don't have a nickel on the outcome, go ahead. One cheating one's self does not bother me at all. Like Ty Webb, you can always measure yourself against other golfers by height.

I was silent last week though. It had been brought to my attention that one of the players in our game regularly cheats. I sat beside him and watched what he was doing. We play with two decks and shuffle behind the deal. So, when I was dealing, the player behind me was shuffling for the next deal. After my deal, I was to cut the newly shuffled cards and slide them to my left for the next deal. The cut rule was put into place a few weeks ago after not having one for years. I thought it was due to another player that always riffled the cards when it was his deal. there have been no cheating allegations with him as far as I know. The rest of the players just do not like him reshuffling cards he is getting ready to deal.

Now, I knew the real target of the new procedure. His cheating was obvious as soon as I paid attention. He would pick up the deck and slap an edge on the table with the bottom card facing towards him. He deals a criss-cross variant that puts all the cards in play. The way he deals the game allows him to put the bottom card in his hand or on the board. Playing hi-low, he can stick an Ace in his hand or an Eight on the table. It is not a big cheat, but a cheat none the less.

The question is, what to do about it. My inner rule-geek demands I speak out. The banker in me says, 'Shut up, he's a regular depositor. Don't drive him away." A very good player was found cheating in this game a few years ago and was banished immediately. Should a bad player have the same consequence? Not only is he a bad player, he is one that can actually bear the costs of losing in this game if the others' statements are to be believed.

I don't countenance cheating when money is on the line has been the rule of my life. Now, I appear to have changed because money is on the line. In golf, the better players give strokes to the weaker ones. Am I just giving him a couple of strokes here?

Saturday

To everyone not from here, especially the national announcers: It is CLEM-sun, not clem-ZUN. Geeesh.

Also, it is GO COCKS!

GAME!

Pirates go for the division crown at 1:30 e.s.t.

Bethel College Football Trick Play

The Old Bouquet Toss Play.