The Wrong Side of That Line

Friday, January 26, 2006

The River

Because I had agreed to just seven weeks in Princeton, not much time to get actual work done, I did not want to ask for any days off for things like the Early Bird. Besides skipping that, I stayed at work as late as I could to get my hours closer to 40 (but not quite), and I left the parking lot about 3:55 with concerns about the Friday traffic to Atlantic City.

Had to fill up first, and it appeared everybody else was too. Boy, do I hate that New Jersey law about not being able to fill up your own tank. That's probably the worst part of being back in Princeton.

Slow going along country roads to I-195, and as soon as I settled into smooth driving I realized I had a yemen. I didn't know what the tournament venue was! Fortunately, having a mobile phone gave me options. I called Woody, was surprised to learn he was skipping AC, and retrieved some info from him--the Clarion on the Black Horse Pike. No address, but I had Streets & Trips right next to me. No Clarion was found in Atlantic City, so I zeroed in on the Blak Horse Pike and scanned for hotels--there it was! I called to confirm that Scrabble was being held there, and I couldn't help but think that those people who maintain a disdainful attitude about mobile phones are being rather foolish.

I tried to study some words, but I had to keep my eye on my route. I was only on I-195 for a few miles, and then it was back to more county roads. I guess I didn't pay enough attention, because I missed a turn, and then when I turned around to get back on the right road I ended up heading north instead of south, away from Tom's River. Blast! Despite the presence of a map right next to me, I had trouble figuring out where I was and felt rather disorienticated.

Meanwhile, while scanning the dial for a NPR station closer to where I was, I stumbled upon what sounded like a preacher talking about "rising up and thrusting". What is that doing on a religious station? Trying to appeal to a younger demongraphic?

Still on a religious tip, perhaps, I noticed that the area I was driving through, a heretofore unexplored sector of New Jersey, was populated with men and boys in dark suits, many wearing a funny-looking furry had shaped kind of like a cake. My first though was that they were orthodox Jews, but I couldn't figure out the funny hats. They looked nothing like the yarmulkes and regular hats I'd seen orthodox Jews wearing. Later, as I continued to see them walking about, I started to wonder if they were not Jewish at all, but rather Amish or Mennonites. But they didn't look like any Amish or Mennonites I'd ever seen.

The myster was soon forgotten as I zeroed in on the Ocean County Mall and looked for the main entrance, which was not "in front" of the Macy's as the barista had said. I drove around to the other side of the mall and just took the first entrance I said and had to walk all the way across the mall. For to save time, I forwent my usual introduction and just bought a much-needed coffee (especially since Scrabbling would go on 'til nearly midnight). Then I went outside and scanned for the security guards while positioning myself for a photographs. I quickly set my backpack on the floor, ducked down, pulled the camera out of the bag, turned the on switch, and... nothing. For the love of god, no battery! I had been in the process of putting the battery into the camera when I got distracted, maybe looking for the entrance, and I forgot. I grumbled all the way back out to the car, moved it close to the main entrance, and went back in. The security guards had just passed in front of the store, which gave me a good window in which to take the photo. I went back to my chosen spot, took the camera out of my bag, and... I had forgotten the battery again!!! Sweet Jesus, what was wrong with me? Back to the car, got the battery this time, rushed back into the mall, looked around for the security guards, and finally, finally took my photo!

I returned to the car, but before I could rush off I had to deal with yet one more freakish occurence--my coat zipper handle had somehow gotten caught in the mesh of my backpack. How do these things happen???

I finally got onto the GSP, and traffic was heavy as I expected, but not as bad as it could have been. I had no choice to settle into the drive and try enjoy the latest Lost Podcast (over six weeks old) that I had finally downloaded. I'm sure other drivers couldn't help but notice my occasional spasms of laughter at the commentary by those wacky dudes Damon and Carlton, especially when they made me lose control of the wheel.

I reached my exit with trime to spare, but I did not see the Clarion where my map said it was. I called the hotel and quickly explained where I was, but some dumbfuck kid just put me on hold. Fucking idiot doesn't know where he works? The manager came on, and he was a dick. He tries to tell me which way to turn, and I tell him it depends which way I'm headed. He said no it doesn't and tells me to turn right on Fire. Idiot. I ignored his advice and turned left, which made more sense according to my map, and I found the hotel.

I found the Crystal Room, and there I encountered one final irritant, the discovery that the tournament would be starting not at 7:00, but 7:30! AARRGH!!! I could have stayed at work another 30 minutes. Blast.

On the other hand, I had time to snap a few candids. Heavy hangs the head...

My nametag had the offending fake last name, and when I picked up the marker to correct it I found it dry. I walked up to the front desk to ask for one, and the selfsame manager that had so curtly given me improper directions immediately said they didn't have one. He didn't even bother to look, thus confirming his status as a royal dick.

Into the Fire

My first opponent was an unrated, Eric Pufferfish or something like that, but no one I had heard off, so I wasn't worried. When I opened with the blank on my rack, my thoughts turned immediately to how much of a spread I could run up. Rather than playing the certain tWINKLE that opened a triple line, I went with W(H)ELKINg*. It was funny because at Philly club I'd been talking smack about how many phonies I was going to get away with, and I led off with one. IMP(R)ESA for 44 was next, and I was feeling pretty good. Despite a couple of no-gos, I was able to continue to score, and I did not worry too much about Eric's DER(I)DING. But when he scored 50 with OX to catch up, I forsaw disaster. A few turns later, he got down ATONiAS, and I could still had won it in the end game despite being outdrawn, but my play was less than the perfection demanded. The unthinkable occurred--I lost to an evil unrated, and the tone for a tough tournament was set.

Joe Geibler gave me a bit of a scare when he bingoed with (R)AINiEST to take the lead, but I managed to win it without any bingos. Play of the game--MENTUM, a wild guess from MENTA.

Marty Fialkow couldn't seem to get a bingo going against me, and by the time he plunked down CHESTED I had already bingoed twice. My third and fourth bingoes, D(U)ALIzED and the out-play TURNOV(E)R, were superfluous, though they did get my spread where it needed to be.

But spread didn't matter without wins, and for my loss to Frank Tangredi, I have no one to blame but myself. Even draw, but I managed to bingo twice and had a bingo lead with the game all but over. Holding the case S, Frank opened the triple-line with D(A)K, and I focused on the possible bingo and blocked with I(C)Y. His SJOLD* caught me completely by surprise, and though I suspected it was phony, I knew I had seen some word like it on a list somewhere, and I just wasn't sure. I finally blinked and let him have it, hoping he'd have trouble playing out with 1 or 2 vowels (I was off my tracking), but he had the win. Had I had enough time to work this out, I would have had to challenge, and I would have won. On the bright side, I got another phony down, PA(R)SONER*. I think I had published that phony when Jerry Lerman tried to play it against me, but I guess Frank never read that particular blog.

Thanks to Esla, Bernadette Buckley had offered me a place in a spare room, and in exchange I took her and Erica Norris Moore (who had the spare bedroom), to Bernadette's house a few miles away. Erica, being true to her "words n rhymes" handle, rapped incessantly about her old life back in Cincinnati. I was reminded of Gerard, the talking parrot from Michael Crichton's novel Next.

At the house, Bernadette tried to blow up an air mattress, but the pump's batteries were dead. I assured her over and over I would be okay on a cushion--way better than the car out in that cold. B&E settled in for a drink, and I went straight to bed.

Sometime later I heard a noise at my door. I heard it creak open, and I thought--aha!!! I knew it--the invitation to stay over was just a pretense to take advantage of my manhood. But then I realize it was just the black cat, Freija.

January 27, 2006

Anxiety woke me at 7:27, and for the next hour I just tossed and turned until I gave. Felt good to have a shower, though, even if I did have to do a little dance with the water stream as the temperature shifted from frigid to scalding. Woke me up at least. And given the "cozy" nature of the playing room, I was sure my showering would be appreciated.

The bath had a one of those fancy adjustable massaging-type shower nozzles, and thus I was faced with the second most important question of ethics and politeness when in a guest's bathroom. The first is whether it is acceptable to urinate directly into the drain. The second is whether it is acceptable to make "intimate overtures" towards the shower equipment. The danger of this is, of course, that the shower will reject your advances, which can be truly demoralizing. Once again... discuss.

Fully awake now, I still needed to make a Starbucks run. It was almost 9:00, but Bernadette was just getting up, so I rushed off and assured the two I'd be back soon. Took a little longer than I expected, and when I pulled into the driveway shortly before 9:30 and honked the horn, I expected B&E to come running out. How silly of me. They are, after all, women. I went back to the car and waited.

When I expressed my desire for breakfast, Bernadette repeatedly reminded me of the McDonald's just down the street, unaware of my disdain for the company. Sure, if I was absolutely starving I could have an Egg McMuffin, but it would be my last resort. On the rare occasions that the effects of subliminal advertising produced in me an urge for a McMuffin, I will strike myself in the testicles until the urge passes. So we blew right past the McDonald's. The Dunkin Donuts was a possibility, but just a quarter mile from the hotel we (by which I mean I) spotted Deli On The Square. No biscuits, but a real breakfast at least, and a syrupy mess for poor John Gove's board.

Lucky Town

With Pufferfish's outdrawing still fresh in my mind, and being stuck playing a lower-rated opponent, I was determined to push John Gove as much as I could. So when he played TH(Y), I immediately, without hesitation, slapped down PENA(T)IVE*. I didn't look at John, just went about my tracking business, didn't reach for the bag too quickly, and when I heard him call out my score I breathed a sigh of relief. John then proceeded to play R(E)LENTEd, and I was immediately glad I had played the phony. When John later played the second blank, (T)WANGlES, blocking my SNEAKED, and then blocked my UNSALT(E)D, and later my DURIANS was an orphan, I was really glad I had phonied, because it seemed John was getting lucky. It was a great relief when I finally had NODDIES in two places, and I was able to stay well ahead of John's MUCOSAE to further extend my spread to 416. Earlier that morning I had found myself at #3 of the 2-2 players, and I wanted to try and get up to #1 and get a crack at somebody with a better record.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, I experienced something unusual. I strained so hard that I actually became lightheaded and dizzy. Couldn't remember that having happened before. Getting old, dammit.

When I returned to the table, I noticed my clock had been started, which miffed me a bit, because I had been waiting quite a while for Keith Hagel before I decided to go to the bathroom. But when I drew my tiles and saw DEFKNR?, all was forgotten, and I proceeded to draw like gangbusters to further extend my spread by another 241 points.

Finally had a phony challenged off, TOWNED* by Carla Cree. I figured after losing a challenge of my opening DEVISEE she would be too timid to challenge again, but she said through my logic. Could have been bad had she bingoed right away, but I escaped unfazed, and I went on to draw well enough to win with a good spread. But I ended up actually winning with a great spread for the wackiest of reasons. Carla mistracked and left one tile in the bag (four on her rack), and she thought she was playing out and stuck herself with the Q. Leaving a tile in the bag happens all the time I think, but when it's the Q it's really painful.

Incidentally, DEVISEEs was also in one of my blogs, from the USSO. Evidently Carla missed it. Woe be to those who don't read my blog.

Got away with yet another phony, vAN(T)AGED*, against Glenn Filzer (but should have found INDAGA(T)E) in response to his COATI(N)GS, and from that point I began to build a gradual lead. Glen retook the lead the STiPEND, but my exchange of AIIINR (leaving X) yielded some good tiles, and on a tight, tight board my tiles proved superior. One interesting note--I went into endgame mode on turn 10, with 28 tiles in the bag. That decision proved critical.

Hungry Heart

I had tossed part of my breakfast once the game started, and the result was that by 2:00 PM I was famished. But I also felt a great sense of relief that I had managed to come back from a lousy 2-2 opening to build a healthy spread. Only Lloyd Mills had a higher spread of the 6-2 players, and there were only about 8 players at 7-1 or 8-0, putting me in a great position--but I had to hang with the big boys. Mr. Cooper was no longer a factor. I even started to dream of placing.

I had hoped to sneak into the lunch room and catch Seth's talk, when when I returned from the deli I was told the talk had not yet begun. I don't think I took that long eating (and charging my laptop), but when I finally found the room Seth was wrapping up. Rats. I guess I'll have to wait for the DVD.

Missing Seth's talk was quickly forgotten as I discovered what happens when you drop a backpack holding a glass bottle onto a cement floor. A mess, that's what. And danger, too, when you are as accident prone as I am. I got as much of the glass out as I could, but I had to ditch the pack out in the car to dry so that I could shake any other small slivers loose before they ended up embedded in my skin.


Well, not quite. My face-off with Nathan Benedict could hardly be called a game. Probably remembering Portland, Nathan opened with a modest GOOF and then proceeded with USEABLE (80), OUTW(I)TS (40), WINCERs (79), EDGES (45), APATH(I)ES (68), and LOCATIV(E) (92). to lead by 243. At that point, with an O in one triple column and I holding ADDELO? (but not knowing or seeing 3x3 OnL(O)ADED), I figured my best chance was to open a second 3x3 line with LO(A)D. This gave Nathan B(L)EAK for 42, and I drew just what I didn't want--the Z. I never ended up bingoing, and I had to play the blank off with the X for 50, and Nathan ended up winning by 244 to pound my huge spread back to reality. So much for my dreams of glory.

After that loss, I would have gladly taken an easier opponent just to get some spread points again, but instead I got Chris Cree, and another crappy draw. Furthermore, it was my turn to suffer a phony, FAUNING*. Goes both ways, eh? I held a blank, from the onset, but with HIOOVY, then DIIOPV, then AFIMPU, then FGIRUU. Finally I drew the second blank, overkill for a 74-point (P)EROxIdE, and I was still 35 down. More crap, EEEEOWR, then ACEEEOR, then AAEEILR. Finally I drew into a bingo AEEILRS, but Christ blocked it. Then AEILRSW--blocked! And that was it--too late to recover.

The Rising

Got my spread back up with a gift, courtesy of Joe Jokubaitis who had lost his two previous games and decided to give up. He kept dinking off tiles to try to bingo, and while he did manage to bingo twice, I scored continuously plus bingoing four times for a 292-point win.

Jim Fonti gave me a scare when he opened with JAUNDI(C)E, and my response, like that of the cornered wolf, was to phony--CLERYI(N)G*. Then (R)ETHROWS*, and then I challenged off his UnPROVE(S). He then tried UNP(R)OVEn, and I wasn't sure, but thankfully I had LIVE(N)ING and didn't have to worry about challenging. But then Jim hit again with SQUABS for 76 to cut my lead to 18, and I started to worry. Thankfully, I had drawn the Z and S after my bingo, and along with the X, I had the amm to pull away for good.

Later that night I realized that Jim had been at the Bayside tournament at which I went 7-0, and he witnessed my game against a 1000-rated player in which all three of my bingoes were phonies. Guess he forgot.

Human Touch

I had been planning on heading up to Voorhees to see Miss Potter, but the pushback of the day's start time to 10:00, plus the generally slow nature of the event, meant I had missed the 7:25 screening. The next show was 9:50, later than I wanted to stay up, so I decided to skip it and went back to find Bernadette. I waited for her to get her board back, and I drove off with B&E. We discussed dinner possibilities, but first on the agenda, for them, was nourishment of a liquid variety. Somewhere along the way I remembered that Colombian restaurant near downtown, and I got a craving. I dropped the two back home to prepare whatever was in the fridge, and I looked up the approximate location of the restaurant in my blog, somewhere on Pacific Avenue.

I drove up and down Pacific a couple of times, comparing the storefronts with my photo, and I discovered that the one was most similar had been turned into a go-go club. AARRGHH!!! Didn't AC have enough bars and clubs that they had to put one in the space held by the only Colombian (and maybe South American) restaurant in town??? Come on!!!

I drove around a bit and found a Mexican restaurant with a neat-looking facade, and though the prices for the full meals were out of this world. The black bean and rice soup for just $5.55 was plenty to tide me over 'til morning.

While I drove, I spotted the Sky Salon, offering professional massage and facial. Offering facials made me think the place is legit, but the fact that it was open at 9:47 (or so the sign said) made me wonder. On the other hand, maybe in a party town like AC, women feel the need to get a facial at 10:00 PM.

Since I was already downtown, I decided to check out one of the strip clubs I had spotted off Pacific. For some reason I had not managed to visit any in all my previous trips to the city. Oh, wait, I think remember why. Because games always finished so late on Friday night I was tired, and by Saturday night I was either too gamey from sleeping in the car or sulking from a poor performance. That's probably it. Anyway, I was smelling fresh as a daisy Saturday night, and I had the magic romance paper in my pocket, but there was still a missing element. Dancers! Much to my surprise, in city like Atlantic City, and on a Saturday night, the club had not opened 'til 9:00. A little after 10:00, the place still faced a dearth of patrons and dancers both. True, Babe's was a little diveish, but not that bad.

While I waited, I amused myself by trying a new flavor of my usual girly drink, Smirnoff Ice Triple Black. I thought back to my younger years when I was a manly man and used to down shots of Jagermeister.

A song featuring the Notorious B.I.G. started playing on the music system, and I noticed a resemblance between its beat and that of Eminem's "Square Dance". Later I would try googling, but I was not able to find out if they sampled the same original song. I also listened to clips of every Biggie song available on iTunes looking for one with a similar beat, but I did not find it. Add that to the list of life's mysteries that I juggle in my mind.

As I sat there, I worried about my car parked outside. Back when I drove beat up/old cars, I didn't really worry about theft. But now that I was driving a new car, even though it is a Hyundai, I was a little bit concerned. I wanted to get the Club for it, but I kept forgetting. Besides my car worries, as the minutes ticked on, my time-wastage meter started buzzing, approaching my threshold. I was able to leave when a non-skanky looking dancer finally came out of the dressing room. Blonde, Russian. I usually avoid the Eastern Europeans because most have come off as interested in nothing but the money, but this one was nice enough. But overall, the club did nothing to change my perception that New Jersey is a wasteland for gentleman's clubs.

One more stop, at a club just a mile or two down from Bernadette's neighborhood (lucky her), called Allure. Once again I was surprised--not because it was empty this time, but because the club was all nude, at from the lobby I could see a dancer doing something really freaky on stage. I didn't think they allowed that kind of thing in New Jersey. But the cover charge was $25, and that was enough to turn me around. With most of my debts paid and some money in the bank, maybe I could see myself paying a $25 cover to satisfy my curiosity, but not when I was tired and not planning to spend more than a short time in the club. And also not with a queue of bachelor partygoers waiting to get in, because all the dancer would naturally gravitate to them, expecting them (correctly) to be bigger spenders.

Back at the house, I arrived just as Bernadette was about to take up the main bathroom for a long bath. I was displacing me to the guest bathroom, which didn't have a lock (or I couldn't figure it out). Next thing I knew Erica was opening the door suddenly and gasping. I will let her describe the sordid details in her blog.

January 28, 2006

More anxiety, from 5:55 AM for about an hour or so before I fell asleep again. Then, out of the blue, it was 7:58, and I felt ungaschlungashlish. Must have been withdrawal from the venti coffee and then the one drink. I wanted more sleep, but I dragged myself into the shower and then hurriedly made my Starbucks run. B&E were more ready this time, and we rushed off to the deli for much-needed grub.

We reached the Clarion with plenty of time to spare (as these events never start on time), and I sat down to enjoy my pancakes, when to my shock I discovered... no syrup!!! That wench back at the deli had given me ketchup (why???), butter, but no syrup!!! I checked at the hotel resaurant, but after a waitress could not find any, a manager unsympathetically stated that they had no syrup. Honey, yes. Syrup not. So what could I do, but got back to the lobby and embark on a new adventure for me, something I'd never done in my entire life, eating pancakes without the syrup. Guess there's a first time for everything.

Ratings-wise, I had only played two top experts and one other in the 1700s, and I was disappointed to see that I was paired yet again with a lower-rated player, Connie Creed. Not surprisingly, she was late, and not at her most alert. With me about 100 points behind Lloyd Mills and Marlon breathing down my neck, I wanted to abuse Connie like I'd never done before and run up my spread. Not out of spite or anything--my lustful schoolboy crush on her had long-since passed. I just needed those spread points for better placement in the KOTH!

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, I looked up and to my surprise saw an infamous female Scrabbler (who happens to be on the National Do Not Blog Registry) with a flustered look. She just needed paper towels, was all, but I was sure glad I had not been caught in an "intimate moment".

My Best Was Never Good Enough

14th round, yet another lower-rated player!!! Dammit, the downside to playing these is that eventually one of them is going to outdraw you, like happened in the first round. And Phil Polsky seemed to have the tiles at the right moment. I opened with two eses, AEINUSS, and I played US (highest simming) over exchanging with the fear in my heart that I would draw another I--and sure enough, I did. Phil's DIALERS did not slot the T I needed for VANI(T)IES, but I still felt okay. With two eses on the board and one in my rack, I felt hopeful that playing (D)IVAN to the triple would yield results. I was not surprised that Phil blocked, and I got my bingo elsewhere, LINE(A)GES, but then Phil played the final es, OU(R)S for 26, and I was facing an uphill battle. My PAW(I)N(G) gave him MOR(P)H for 48. My LOCATED gave him Z(O)RI for 46. Then (L)AX for 33, but with two blanks unseen I still had hope. Phil's phony (R)ADIOE* gave me more hope to catch up, but looking at his tiles I knew it was a risk to open the board. But I needed the points, so I placed INCEPT for 36 to take the lead, and that gave him (C)HATTIEr two turns later. One blank left, and it would probably make all the difference. And sure enough, Phil drew it for (S)NOUTIeR, and that was that.

Next up was another accursed unrated, Sandy Sha, and she happened to be right in front of me as I expressed my frustration at having to play her. Somebody pointed out that, at 9-5, she was doing well enough that a pretty high rating would factor into my calculation, but I wanted to play (and beat) somebody 1800+. On the other hand, I drew extremely well for a 165-point win, plus two phonies (SAR*, ANODIZE(R)*) to boost my spread to 1051. This actually put me ahead of most everybody else's spread, so if I could win the final game I might actually place in the event.

Blinded by the LLoyd

Final round, Lloyd Mills, and if I beat him I might just place 8th and win some cash and save my rating. I started off well, finding the double-double LANGuOR/u(DON) and then scoring 52 with JO in response to Lloyd's OILCANS. But two turns later, my racks became clunky, and I failed to play through the difficult times. Meanwhile, Lloyd managed to bingo two more times, and I went down hard.


0 W(H)ELKINg*  
6.6 BRIC(K)  
3.7 SABLE  
8.9 AYAH  
0 YE  
15 RA(J)  
2.0 REI  
0 (DOR)E  
1 (WO)T  
0 LOX  
3.5 CHAOS  
6.3 (A)VOID  
0 QI  
3.2 ZEA(L)S  
0 H(A)ET  
0 WEN  
0 JU(N)  
5.3 (I)N  
0 FA  
0 BA  
0 bEN  
5.3 GAMBS  
6.1 IG(N)ORERS  
3.6 WYE  
0.6 KAIN  
14.9 RETOTA(L)S  
12.8 F(R)IZ  
2.0 (Z)INC  
10.1 D(U)ALIzED  
20 RE  
0 -UVV  
31.9 FO(G) MO (keep M better for bingo extend spread)
0 M(I)  
0 TURNOV(E)r  
4.9 NARI(C)  
6.8 XI  
0 VIE  
0 EAU  
0.9 lAITIES  
25.9 I(C)Y  
5 OE  
0 (E)ON  
0.9 YOB  
0 QIS  
6.4 BARF  
0 FAIL  
9.8 TET  
3.7 ZO(R)I  
0 EKE  
0 LUT(Z)  
0.2 RA(J)  
0 U(N)CI  
0 HA  
2.1 BANTIEs  
0 ZA(I)RE  
0.7 YO  
10.3 IRIS  
0 T(A)R(E)S  
12.6 HA  
6.1 ODEA  
15.9 GE(N) avoding bad tiles
31.2 GU(T)TER  
0 (C)I(G)  
0 V(END)  
0 L(OPS)  
0 N(E)  
41 lose turn  
6.2 TOWED  
5.1 (NO)GGIN  
5.9 (G)AZE  
2.1 SALVO  
2.9 M(E)T  
0 PUT  
0 T(I)  
0 ROsY  
0 FE  
7.3 (G)EM  
0 Q(U)EER  
6.4 M(A)KO  
0 ZO(A)  
0 MA(K)O  
6.7 LOI(D)  
5.5 TOP  
0 (P)IX  
0 ED  
0 F(AD)  
3.2 TE(EN)  
14.9 JE(ON) defense
0.9 (E)RR  
4.9 VI(S)  
0 AI  
0 TA(V)  
2 (N)U  
13.8 JIN  
1.3 POMO  
86.2 LO(A)D OnL(O)ADED
17.8 (M)EZE reaching
16.3 Xu (E)X(P)END
1.0 HADE(D)  
0 AND  
9.3 (A)HOY Y(A)HOO
2.0 OV(O)ID  
0.4 PAM  
4.3 FUGU  
3.0 (P)EROxIdE  
11.5 WE(T) missed FUGU hook
16.9 OCREA missed FUGU hook
5.8 (K)AE  
14.5 (P)E  
4.6 ISLE  
9.0 ARB  
29.6 VERT(U)  
0 W(I)Z  
0 FOX  
0 CENT  
0 (C)RAFT  
9.3 ANILE  
16.7 IN(R)O BI(R)O
7 EH  
18.1 ZEK  
0 V(R)OW  
0 GEMS  
0 FEM(S) know Jim's rack
2.1 LIVE(N)ING  
16.7 G(L)EY  
0 ZEST  
16.4 (G)OX  
12.4 KIP KIT (not sure why)
17.4 TRAWLE(Y) block lanes
8 I(O)NIc  
4.9 OX  
0 WHI(Z)  
36.3 lose turn  
4 THYM(E)  
0 GET  
3.3 VENT  
15.9 AI(R)Y  
11.4 OI  
8.5 DI(E) (L)IPOID
0 P(I)T  
0 (R)EJOIN unsure if pass better
0 US  
17.5 PAW(I)N(G) WEAPO(N) (killer mistake)
28.3 PRE(Z) (goddammit!!!)  
0 IF  
4.1 INCEPT PINEY overlap safer
12.8 QI  
11.6 L(E)GGY  
0 WEB  
14 JA(r)  
6 ENVY  
0 BU(L)LY  
0 UGH  
3.5 SAR*  
12.9 TH(A)N miss SAR* D hook
0 (R)OVE  
3.9 (O)FT -BCTT
0 B(R)IT  
20.3 TW(O) trying 2 bingo again
0 (E)M  
0 GERM  
0.1 JO JOE
0.4 OWE  
6.1 -UUAI (L)UAU risky
3.8 T(AW)NY  
13.6 F(JO)RDS  
13.8 V(E)R(Y) CUT(E)S(Y)
16.4 TU(M)P  
1.4 ZEE  
14.7 SWAN(G)  
0 (K)I  

Average Equity Loss Per Turn (using Quackle 0.93)

1 - L - 9.3 (130.4)
2 - W - 1.7 (24.9)
3 - W - 6.9 (95.9)
4 - L - 4.8 (63)
5 - W - 2.1 (27)
6 - W - 6.1 (103.1)
7 - W - 5.4 (81.2)
8 - W - 3.1 (58.2)
9 - W - 13.2 (145.6)
10 - L - 8.5 (110.9)
11 - L - 6.2
12 - W - 7.2 (85.9)
13 - W - 8.1 (113.6)
14 - L - 8.2 (106.3)
15 - L - 3.0 (42.6)
16 - W - 8.9 (124.4)

Avg: 6.4

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