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Friday, April 4, 2008

Previously, on "Tilebag Confessional"...
Winter, Cecilia, Terry, and Stefan have dinner at the Philly Diner. Winter raises the question of how does a person know he is in love. Cecilia says that a person knows when she feels an inescapable desire to profess that love.

Winter and a small group of players, probably geeky ones, discuss Star Trek during lunch. They agree that Star Trek: The Next Generation was the best series, and for some reason a particularly memorable episode, "Darmok" comes up in the discussion.

Winter breaks from standard practice and decides to share a motel room with a somewhat attractive female and an unknown male. Winter regrets his decision after experiencing rejection and anxiety.

That Which Cannot Be Taken Away

Woke up around 8:00, later than I had hoped, in no small part because I had had so much trouble falling asleep. Finding a campground had been easy enough. There was a new development, not yet listed on my map, behind the ACME shopping center in Middletown, DE. I had debated whether I should take the time to stop for a morning photo, but once the rain started I figured I'd be better off stopping than driving another sixty miles in the nighttime rain. My younger self cared little about dangerous driving conditions, to such an extent that the very fact that I have reached old age is evidence of my hypothesis that I am protected by higher powers.

I drove out of the parking lot and into the development, then made the first right. No suitable parking on those streets--much too bright. I went deeper into the neighborhood, and I found a perfect spot--right next to a large field. I couldn't see if it was an undeveloped plot or a park or a manmade body of water, but regardless it was dark and inconspicuous enough for my purposes. I was undisturbed, but I still couldn't fall asleep. The fake benadryl I'd taken didn't seem to help, and I had no idea why, but I worried that my schedule for Friday would be impacted (okay, I yield and accept that "impact" has become a verb).

It took me quite a while to get from Middletown to Seaford to Easton to Annapolis, at which point it appeared that by the time I reached Alexandria and Arlington, I might get stuck in some rush hour on the way to pick up another player. And jeez, that wasn't even considering I-270, where the outbound rush was a bear. I came up with a better plan, though, to meet down in Alexandria instead, from where we could head out towards the airport, visit a couple of other Starbucks, and then get up to I-70 a different way.

Introducing Mountain Maiden

Braddock station was conveniently located just a few blocks from a new store in Alexandria, and there I picked up the player henceforth known, for her own privacy and security, as Mountain Maiden. I was grateful for her willingness to take the Metro down to Virginia, thus saving us a great deal of time. Of course, in my usual and unimitable style, I proceeded to hemorraghe time like the Iraq war hemorraghes dollars and US credibility. First I got lost trying to get to Columbia Pike, where my friend Michelle said I could find a selection of Latin American restaurants. I only saw one that was open, a Peruvian spot, but it workedd out just fine--decent beans, rice, and yuca for me, and sweet plantains for Mountain Maiden.

Though the food was good, my enjoyment was diminished when, a few minutes later on Glebe Road, I stopped for gas and spotted, right next door, a Colombian restaurant! Aarrghh!!! I couldn't help myself--I had to place an order of tostones. That is, of course, the reason that, the previous day, in the shower, I reacted with dismay when I looked straight down to see an unsightly bulge where flat abs should have been.

After a third new store in the area, in Arlington, I made good time on the toll road towards Ashburn. I then proceeded to lose 30 minutes trying to find the new Starbucks. A barista's poor directions for partly at fault, but I also went astray by trying to optimize her nonsensical route. Grrr...

At the Broadlands store, Mountain Maiden decided to be clever and piggyback on my Starbucking in order to obtain a sample coffee of her own. Sneaky, sneaky.. I approve!!!

Final stop, the Dulles Town Center. When in a hurry, mall stores are the worst. Besides the hassle of finding parking, finding the store, finding a bathroom (if the store is a kiosk), I tended to lose a lot of time taking a photograph because I had to both wait for customers to move and try to avoid being spotted by security. To account for any possible "issues" with security, I devised an escape plan that would allow me to run from the mall without losing track of Mountain Maiden. She was instructed to act as if she were not with me, in case I was accosted. If that happened, she was to meet me in the residential development across the stream and adjacent to the mall. Yes, yes, I was probably overthinking the situation, but it never hurts to be prepared.

Hard Driving

I had perhaps been overly optimistic that I could make good time by taking SR-7 to Leesburg and then US-15 up to I-70. Perhaps earlier in the day, but rush hour was in full swing, and by the time we reached Fredericksburg I was looking at a midnight arrival time in Charleston, at best. Because of all the delays, I was planning to skip the Hagerstown store until I remembered that I would need to gas up anyway, and Mountain Maiden needed to eat.

We exited US-40 in Hagerstown, and after I gassed up and heated my leftovers, Mountain Maiden spotted a Salvadorean restaurant a mile or two down the road. I was pleased as punch that she had acquired my taste for Latin American food. I was proud to share my Hispanic heritage (even though Salvadoreans can't hold a candle to Colombians!).

On top of all the other delays, rain started up once we reached West Virginia. Combined with the darkness, the curvy mountain highway, and my exponentially-increasing fatigue, the last 100 to 150 miles proved rather unpleasant for me. As I struggled, I started thinking giving Mountain Maiden the ride, and going to WV instead of Bayside, had been a bad idea. Why hadn't I learned my lesson from my experience with taking Sam to Farmington. I'm not a young man anymore. I can't handle these long drives. But of course I knew the exact reason. There's a well-known story about a toad and a scorpion crossing a river. The moral of that story is that a man cannot go against his nature.

It was a 1:03 when I dropped Mountain Maiden off at the Red Roof Inn. I set off immedidately down MacCorkle Avenue (love that name) in search of a place to park. The public parking spaces all seemed to prohibit parking between 2 and 6 AM, and a couple of residential streets I tried prohibited parking except by police permit. Down at 38th Street, I spotted an apartment complex. Perfect. The buildings had parking alongside, and I went undisturbed throughout the night.

The Crushing Weight of Desire

That's not to imply that I had a good night's sleep. Quite on the contrary, I had a rough, rough night. Part of the reason was surely all the caffeine I had consumed, including a DoubleShot around 10:00 PM. I had wanted to save it, but I placed a greater value on staying away and keeping my car on the road.

The real reason for my sleeplessness, though, was my sudden and intense desire to attend the upcoming May 16th release of the next chapter in the Chronicles of Narnia film franchise. I had enjoyed the first film, though I would not say I had fallen in love with the series in the same way that I had with, for example, the television show Lost. So it was a mystery, then, why over the course of the previous 12 hours I was completely consumed with a passionate desire to see this film. Imagine a moment when you have wanted something more than anything else in the world, then raise that feeling to the power of ten, and you might have an idea of how mad I was with desire that night. At times it felt as if my body and soul were aching so much that I could not breath.

My imagination was working in overdrive dreaming up a multitude of different scenarios under which I would finally see the film. At the very first showing at midnight of course. At Mann's Chinese Theater, even better. I visualized myself waiting in line and then entering the theater and then watching the opening credits in much the same way that one would fantasize about an intimate experience. To visualize just how I tossed and turned inside the confines of my very comfortable Honda Fit, refer to the episode of Seinfeld titled "The Contest", in which Jerry, George, and Elaine compete to see who can win free radio station tickets to the premiere of the Wayne's World movie.

As much trouble as I had sleeping, it was a really good thing that I had backed out of sharing in the motel room when Mountain Maiden introduced the idea of adding a third roommate, a person who was not Bradley Whitmarsh. My restlessness might have made the others uncomfortable. For that matter, I had not wanted to face discomfort myself by putting myself in a situation that could have turned into another Dallas Open '06.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Low Gear

I had slept very little when I saw that the time was 7:14, I thought "I am so fucked." And then I thought, no, the word "fucked" is not strong enough to describe just how bad my predicament is. I'm going to lose all my games on Saturday due to fatigue. On Sunday I'll have slept more, but I have run into bad tiles, I'm going to do so poorly I'll end up under 1600 and competing in Division 3 in Orlando with Chris Lipe.

Mountain Maiden and Not-Bradley-Whitmarsh had breakfast covered, muffins. I stopped first at Foodland, home of the world's lamest bakery, and then I spotted a Cracker Barrel, the restaurant in most need of A) changing it's name; or B) actively recruiting more patrons of color.

I reached the Red Roof at 9:36 and called Mountain Maiden. She and roomie came out shortly, and I was able to see that Not-Bradley-Whitmarsh was most definitely not Bradley Whitmarsh. Oh, that's not to say that he was a Jesse Day or anything like that. I know Jesse Day. I've played against Jesse Day. And you, Not-Bradley-Whitmarsh, are no Jesse Day! Nevertheless, I was struck by a sudden feeling of having stepped into a hopeless situation.

As we drove to the school, I commented that whoever got to play me first was going to be really lucky given how tired I was. I have to wonder if it was cosmic fate, then, that my first opponent was none other than Not-Bradley-Whitmarsh. When I saw my first rack, DEINST?, I thought "Yes!" Exactly what I needed in my brain-dead state, a gimme rack. But after expending a whopping 7 minutes I could not find either of the two double-doubles. As punishment for this failure, the tile gods bestowed upon me BILNSUW, BLNSUVX, COSUVVX, EOURVVX, EEERVVW, and EEEINTV before I was finally able to balance my rack. Meanwhile, Not-Bradley-Whitmarsh had gradually crept up to take the lead, and then he bingoed. I had done one good thing, forced him to bingo to the triple, and I was able to cut his lead to 20, but I just couldn't keep up from that point. As I witnessed my lead evaporate, the part of my brain that could think spent the whole game wondering--should I have traded in or tried to play through, and if so, when???

Nope, Quackle doesn't like the exchange, but it does like good plays as opposed to the awful decisions I was making. I played an awful game.

Annotated Game

Almost lost to Marc Broering when he drew the second blank at the end and managed to set up two bingo spots. I took my best shot and blocked the S hook, BAGuETS, and was extremely lucky he did not find GABfEST. My fatigue seemed to abate slightly during the game, but maybe it was just the tiles. I was still pretty much out of it, as evidenced by the fact that after just six plays against #14 Gerry Smith, I was down to close to 10 minutes while she had more than 20. Granted, she had started out hooking DEAREsT to my HADING, which made my decisions hard, but I think my brain was just freezing up every time I looked at the board. All of a sudden I'd look at the clock and several minutes would have disappeared. I had to start throwing down the fist thing that came to mind and hope to eat up her time in case I couldn't bingo. Fortunately, I did manage to bingo (took a chance on hooking BERLINs to SHADING) and from that point I ran away with the game.

Stupid word study. If I had not been anagramming 8s, I would not have convinced myself that I had seen HABITUED* as an angram of HABITUDE. Of course, I never would have taken such a chance to begin with if Brian Bowman, who had luckbagged me in our first meeting (or so I remember), had not started off so nonchalantly with cAHIERS, then VER(S)EMAN, then (M)AX for 57, and then continued solid scoring. Of course, given that I managed to draw the second bingo for BEsTRID and only lost by 16, I can only blame myself for having lost that turn.

For lunch, pizza was ordered, for those who wanted in. I lacked the energy to go anywhere, so I put myself down for two slices. They were underwhelming, and I benefitted more from coffee, tea, and fake excedrin.


Dan Stock up first after lunch, and I got exactly what a brain-dead person needs--two early blank bingos and a closed board.

Both blanks and generally superior tiles again, against Mr. WOOFY*, Tim Michaels, but he can blame himself for his fate. He admitted after the game that he could have played double-double AMORI(N)I for 36 to take the lead (and block my bingo), but instead he tried to hit a triple with MOIR*. That boy is clever though--he "accidentally" tossed the R halfway across the room, and as I went to find it for him I fully expected it to be an L. But I had learned from the WOOFY* incident, and I was not about to let another phony get by.

Underdog Matthew Ridout was killing 'em in first place, undefeated, but I had a blank on my opening rack. Oops, spoke too soon. Turned over those final tiles to find FNPTTW?. Missed gENT(R)IFY and (R)ENoTIFY to play FE(R)NY and drew into INNPTV?. Yuck. PINN(ED) scored, but I was then stuck with CNOQTV?. All that fumbling with the blank finally paid off, however, because I still had it when Matthew opened up a 3x3, and I got down S(L)ITTeRS. After the game, Matthew said my 53-point lead made him feel like he had to try (R)EHOMING*, and I told him that if he had just playing HOM(ER)ING like he did next turn, he would only have been down 23 points. He didn't have to try the phony, and it was certainly foolish against someone whose been through 15,000 sevens and is working through 10,000 eights.

Okay, I hereby declare that Thomas Hall has a lifetime exemption from all jokes about Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ned Flanders, or otherwise. Thomas did me a real solid during our game, when I pulled up FABLE to play FLAB elsewhere but left the E on the board. Later, after he mistracked and let me play out my Q, to lose the game, he didn't realize I was not out and started chatting, while his clock was running. I alerted him before he went over time, but my kindness pales in comparison to his letting me just pick up the E. For my part, I learned from my mistake in Dayton against Luebkemann, where I simply picked up my word after misdesignating the blank instead of letting a director rule or letting Looby decide whether to be the "bad guy". In this case, I flatly told Thomas that it was up to him, and he told me to just pick up the E. Perhaps he was just tired after 8 rounds. Perhaps he wasn't thinking straight because of time trouble and the effects of a particularly grueling board. Perhaps he just thought he had the game won, with the S and blank. Regardless, his letting me slide ended up costing him, possibly first place and a couple of hundred dollars. Maybe--it's possible we would have played again, and that I might have won anyway.

Annotated Game

After the game, I asked Brad how he would have ruled, had Thomas chosen to call the director. He said that Thomas would have had the option to challenge the play, because it was disconnected. But if Thomas chose not to challenge, the E would have had to stay. Removing it was incorrect. I seem to remember that at club, a director ruled that the play was illegal and had to be removed--it was not an option. I wonder how others would rule.

Tired as I was, I was motivated by my nature to accompany a group to the Blue Grass Kitchen. Pretty decent food, though my burrito was a little spicy.

After taking Mountain Maiden and Not-Bradley-Whitmarsh back to the Red Roof, I was so tired I just went over to the Loews. The parking lot was smattered with vehicles, including a camper, so I decided it was safe. It was already past 10:00 PM, and it looks like those cars were there to stay. But over the course of 30 minutes to an hour I heard car after car leaving, and I started to feel exposed. I went back to my spot next to the apartment complex.

Sunday, April 6, 2008


7:35, the song running through my head upon wakening was the same song that had jinxed me in Farmingdale. I quickly switched to some new R.E.M. Did I avoid the jinx?

I picked up Mountain Maiden and Not-Bradley-Whitmarsh earlier, a bit past 8:00, so we could find breakfast. The player who had suggested the Blue Grass Kitchen the night before had mentioned a bagel place downtown, but we could not find it. Running out of time, we had to go to Tudor's Biscuit World. I had eaten a breakfast sandwich from there years earlier and found it underwhelming, so I disavowed myself of any responsibility before we entered.

I must mention that the biscuit sandwiches at Biscuit World have unusual names, like "Ron", and "Mary B".

While my opening rack of AAEILUV against Pete Ziegler looked bad, it actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Pete had luckbagged me in Rocky River, and he had opened by exchanging, so I full expected a bingo to come down. It did, PETARDS, but he hook (ELUVIA)E*. I don't think so--that list of five-vowel sevens is just as valuable (and much shorter) than five-vowel eights. I followed with ORD(I)NAOLS, ZAX for 56, OUTGRIN(S) for 83, and Q(I) for 31. Sounds like I was cruising to victory, right? Nope, not so fast. I hadn't been able to stop Pete from bingoing, of course, but it was his bingo-bango a few turns later, (R)EINVITE and CLAYIES(T), that started to worry me. Had I not drawn PERIOD(I)c, I would have been in trouble. Sure enough, he bingoed again (after playing off six tiles, and through two tiles, after I had tried to block), AG(EN)TrIES, and only a 42-point YOK saved me. My rack was otherwise crap, IIKOOUY, as was my next rack, ACIIOUU. Ha dit not been for YOK, I might have actually lost that game.

I must commend Brad on his tsh-aided Swiss Pairings. Much better than round-robin. In fact, he started doing round-by-round pairings early, with three rounds to go. That game me some time to kill before Round 10, and I thought I might do something about my increasingly itchy face. I started out to the car to retrieve my razor, but I stopped midway, realizing that I could not shave while in first place, and risk jinxing myself. Geez, that could have been a disaster!

Ziggy again next round, and another possible disaster, when I became the one to phony, MA(T)EN*. I only led by 28, so I could have lost the momentum right there, but Pete only scored 10. But then he bingoed, SIALOID, forcing me to burn my blank for a 54-point JEb(E)L to retake the lead. I managed to draw the other blank, and I then I unsuringly challenged off VENATIV(E)* for the win.

I guess I should have shaved after all, because against Matthew Rideout, whose rating was in the 1300s, abecause he went 0-4 in the early bird, I was killed by a dearth of vowels in the middle game.

His win meant he had a chance to infect me with his rating for a third time, and even though I opened with OLESTRA and later drew a blank for (S)ULTRIEr, I had to struggle. I really wouldn't have thought facing a 1300s-player three times could be that tough!

With daylight, no rain, and a half-way decent amount of sleep, the ride back was much more pleasant, and it even included the Bihlmeyer Effect. Along I-68 in MD, we passed a sign for the Billmeyer/Bell Grove WMA. I had really thought that with Joe not going to WV, and not playing in Bayside, and with no developments on the athletic front, that this blog would be wholly absent of any mention of Bihlmeyer. But that Bihlmeyer effect is powerful.

Kailash, when it rises

I guess it was sometime in 1997 that I first read that George Lucas was finally going to produce a second trilogy of Star Wars films. From that point until May 20, 1999, I awaited the release of Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menance with great eagerness. I read as much as I could about the films. I paid for a screening of The Water Boy just so I could see the first teaser trailer (and then I went back to work, as did several geeks in the audience (not that I'm a geek, mind you)). Fast forward to 1997, when I found myself at the Cinemark Tinseltown in Plano, TX, a week before March 20th, waiting nearly 24 hours in order to simply buy tickets for the premiere. A week later, I waited, along with others, taking shifts, for 50 hours in order to be the very first group in line and assure ourselves the best seats for a group of 19.

And then, finally, the curtain rose, and The Phantom Menance commenced. I imagine many of you already know what comes next. Though extremely enjoyable, the experience was underwhelming. Many defenders of Lucas have said that no film could have lived up to the hype of a 16-year wait. I enjoyed the film, mind you, but the thrill was nowhere near what I had been imagining, and I found myself craving more. Still, I was extremely grateful that the prequel had been produced, and as soon as the end credits rolled you can bet I was already thinking ahead to 2002 and the next film. Call me an optimist. I can't stop myself from fantasizing about experiences that exceed my wildest dreams, even when they turn out no so much.

Monday, April 7, 2008

I saw that Thomas made what seems like a huge mistake when he played CEP for 15 instead of (MY)C/CEP for 31. It's possible he was intentionally avoiding creating a new line with the P, but if so, I question that decision. Seeing that error made me feel not as bad for having won that game on that procedural error if his. On the other hand, I myself was going to great lengths to avoid creating new lines or hooks--Quackle really dislikes E(XI)T, so I can understand his mistake. Furthermore, I made a huge mistake of my own, not seeing the L hook for aNGUISH.

That night, I went 5-0 at club, to extend the 3% lead I had acquired over Petree and Oliger for club dominance, but I could not have done it without excellent tiles. My mind was hardly in the game the whole night, and I would not have been able to play if I had drawn dreck.

All I could think about, really, was Narnia and how great I would feel when I finally returned to that magical land Narnia is special indeed. I imagined myself splashing about gleefully in a stream like Charlotte Staples Lewis when she landed on the island. Of course, that moment of joy was quickly cut short, and I felt a sense of dread, because if the film turned out poor, my disappointment would be unmeasurable.

My longing for Narnia was so great at times that I felt dizzy. At other times I felt weak. I was merely pushing tiles around with little regard for optimum play. I just wanted to hit my clock as quickly as possible and return to my dreams of Narnia.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

My Life Is Not a Movie or Maybe

Do you ever wonder what it feels like right before a person commits suicide? For example, when I person is standing at the edge of a building, or a cliff, and looking down at the vast drop, what is she thinking? Does she understand what is about to happen before she takes that step?

No. That is a horrible analogy. Much too dramatic, and incorrect because a person does not actually understand what happens after death. A better analogy, perhaps, is that of the gambler at the racetrack with the last of his mortgage money. He is drowning in debt, and he knows that he is more likely to lose his home too than to hit the trifecta. He understands this well even as he fills out that ticket and hands over that money.

I guess that is a better analogy for my situation, but I have to said that in all that preparation for the SATs I did in high school, I don't think we were ever presented with an analogy for doing something that you know will be disastrous.

There are certainly enough examples of how a person's grand plans rarely ever work. Only in the movies, usually bad movies. In good movies, like Of Mice and Men, the plans don't turn out so well.

I went 5-0 at club again, besting John Luebkemann twice and Jan Dixon once, to take over the top spot in Wilmington (I think), in addition to Downingtown. Just like the night before, I started out feeling fine, but as the night progressed I was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread about what might be transpiring 112 miles away. Achieving club dominance was great, but I just couldn't get May 16th out of my head.


Andy: Rule 1 violations are always the most fun to read.
Brian Bowman: Luckbagged you in Independence? I don't know what your racks were, but I don't recall mine being anything special. I guess you have to teel yourself something to explain away a loss to a 1300-player Anyway, congrats on winning this tourney just like you won that one.
Brendan Sullivan: By the way, where did you get the impression that I looked like Brad Whitmarsh in the first place? I've heard the Jess Day comparison far more often, not that either of them are remotely accurate . . .


#1 - NBW    
12.9 kINDEST  
3.4 WI(Z)  
12.7 BL(OW)N  
29.9 COS  
6 (D)OUX  
10.9 VR(O)W  
0 (N)IEVE  
1.5 EN(D)UE  
2.2 TOY  
0 ERG  
23.2 QI  
12.5 (L)EAFAGE  
0 AT  
#2 - Broering    
0* NUN  
1.9 SIZAR  
0 HALV(A)  
0 JAGS  
0 NAW  
10.9 BEAU(X)  
0 PUMA  
11.3 TILT(H)  
36.5 ETA  
0 QI  
0 (R)OOD  
#3 - Smith    
3.1 DARK  
0.7 SUNN  
0 FI(N)NY  
0 ZEP  
8.2 M(U)M  
0 VUG  
4.6 TAD  
0 J(E)LLY  
0 FA  
0 (J)EE  
0 TA(B)OO  
#4 - Bowman    
0 J(A)W  
2.2 H(A)BITUE  
10.2 SK(I)P  
32.2 lose turn ((HABITUE)D*)  
6.3 YOGI(C)  
8.7 FO(E)  
8.1 YOR(E)  
12.5 P(U)TZ  
29.2 U(H)  
0 I(R)E  
0 SNOG  
#5 - Stock    
1.2 UNWIT -UW (AEINT),WITAN (not best)
0 JA(W)  
0 (D)EViANTS  
2.9 SEANcES  
7.3 LOT(I)  
0 MOUE  
4.2 TUFA AFTO(S)A (not best)
12.6 BY  
9.7 CIGARE(T)  
5.5 K(I) NO(M)OS
1.7 (G)ONG  
9.2 HORN  
0* FUD  
19 (Q)I  
#6 - Michaels    
5.2 APO  
0.2 (J)EED  
0 Q(I)  
0 VA(U)LT  
8.2 FOB  
0 FUCKE(D)  
12.8 TAX  
14.6 (A)HI  
0 E(MIC)  
#7 - Ridout    
0 -FPTW (NT?)  
0 PINN(ED)  
5.6 -CQV should keep C!!!
0 S(L)ITTeRS  
0 GAIT  
6.8 VIEW  
6.9 GR(A)AL  
0 FIE  
0 QU(A)  
6.7 BIRK  
21 (PEAG)E miss Matthew's better J play
11 NOtA NAOs
#8 - Hall    
0 GOB  
0 AZON  
2.3 DOURIN(E)S SOURDI(N)E (saw but failed to compute extra 2 pts)
0 TOO(N) if I had played THEW before, I would have had MOO(N) for more points!!!
0 VIEW  
0.7 (TOON)IE (N)AOI (board is too tight to give up 12 pts for a bingo leave)
16.3 E(XI)T too defensive?
4.3 AR(G)O(N) RAVI(N) (too open?)
22.9 VI(E) miss L(aNGUISH) hook
41.3 (EXIT)ER* ditto
19.1 FLAB ditto
#9 - Ziegler    
2.6 ELUVIA 8F 8G
15.6 ORD(I)NALS miss (ELUVIA)L hook
0 ZAX  
0 Q(I)  
0 WE(E)T  
0 MA(C)H  
0 YOK  
10 (P)IU  
3 (D)U(E)  
0 CIAO  
#10 - Ziegler    
0 OW  
39 lose turn (MA(T)EN*)  
11.5 MAN  
10.3 JEb(E)L JUT(E) (preferred to score),JUr(E)L,JUL(E)p
5.6 (D)AY  
2.5 (M)ICE  
3.4 OH  
0 (V)UGG  
0 QuOT(E)  
20 (E)TA  
#11 - Ridout    
2.3 CAN CRANIA,CARINA (not best),ARNICA (not best)
3.1 XI  
1 (L)UV  
6.1 (F)AIN  
8 WITE  
1.4 ED  
8.2 P(E)T  
0 TR(O)G  
0.4* -DQTT (GNS) keeping G for HI hook
0.9* FUG(U)S  
0 OOT  
0 cOIR  
#12 - Ridout    
0.5 OLESTRA 8F  
14.6 KRON(A)  
0 VO(M)ER  
0 CASE  
0 GUI(R)O  
2 LEI  
0 PIBET* intentional phony
0 (S)ULTRIEr  
8.6 AD(Z) blocking
0* HW(A)N more blocking
2 GOBO  

1 - L - 9.6 (115.2)
2 - W - 6.5 (90.6)
3 - W - 6.8 (109)
4 - L - 8.4 (109.4)
5 - W - 5.2 (73.3)
6 - W - 4.0 (52.1)
7 - W - 5.0 (75.4)
8 - W - 7.9 (110.5)
9 - W - 5.1 (66.6)
10 - W - 8.7 (137.1)
11 - L - 1.7 (26)
12 - W - 4.3 (56.3)

Avg: 6.1

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