Before I even begin, let me first say something.
This post is NOT, I REPEAT, NOT about Twin Lakes football or athletics.
*sigh*
Okay. Glad to get that off my chest.
I DO, however, need to talk about an EPIC basketball game last night.
And if you weren't at the Berry Bowl, you missed a hum-dinger of an NCC showdown.
Logansport. Anderson.
Two teams who have had their share of amazing matchups in the past.
Two teams who wanted to get off to a 1-0 start in the uber-competitive NCC.
It was no-holds-barred, drag-out, physical, and competitive to the end last night.
Unfortunately, somebody had to win, and somebody had to lose.
Thankfully for Berry faithful, Logan pulled out a 74-73 victory on the home floor.
It was grind-it-out from start to finish.
Logan seemed to have the upper hand early on, making good plays and showing that defense to shut down Anderson's talented players.
Logan led by 3 after one quarter and expanded the lead to 5 at the half, 32-27.
Logan's amazing sophomore, Antonio Penny, already had 14 points at the break.
That alone shows you how impressive of a player he is, and what a contributor he is to the offense.
But then Logan seemed to ONCE AGAIN have that one bad quarter that always plagues them. Anderson tightened up the defense and forced the Berries into some bad mistakes, as the Indians outscored Logan 18-9 in the third to take a 45-41 lead heading into the final stanza.
The Indians seemed to have grabbed control of the game and looked to send the Berry faithful in a disappointing drive home.
But Mr. Penny would refuse to let that happen.
With Logan trailing 60-57 in the final seconds, Penny was all alone behind the three-point line and drilled the triple with 7 seconds to go. Anderson drove the length of the floor and got into the lane, but two Berries were there to meet the attempt and the shot was blocked, sending the game into the first overtime.
The Berries won the opening tip and seemed to grab momentum back, making steals and big plays, especially when Penny drove to the hole and scored plus a foul, giving Logan a 68-64 lead. The fans began to hope that it was all but over.
However, Penny has struggled from the foul line lately, and he missed the shot, keeping the Indians' hopes alive.
Then, Logan fans became more worried when Penny fouled out of the game late in the first overtime.
The Berries would have to step up without their star, who scored a career-high 34 points.
Anderson would tie the game at 68-68, but the Berries had one final chance to win, even after a critical turnover that led to the tie. Bo Bullard went the length of the floor and let fly a 30-foot jumper, but like Gordon Hayward's shot against Duke in the title game last year, it rattled out and we needed a second overtime to decide this barnburner.
Neither team really grabbed momentum in the second stanza, but Anderson was slowly gaining momentum. The Indians took a 73-72 lead after two free throws, and forced Logansport to call a timeout with 12 seconds to play.
After the timeout, Anderson's defense did another amazing job of cutting off any attempt for senior Austen Hildebrand to get into the lane, but Hildebrand found a cutting Cameron Biggs wide open beside the basket.
Bounce pass. Layup. Buzzer.
BERRIES WIN!!!!
It was an amazing ending to an amazing basketball game.
Now, Logansport stands at 4-2, 1-0 in the NCC, and heads to Lafayette tonight for a showdown with the McCutcheon Mavericks.
***MCCUTCHEON SCOUTING REPORT***
Don't be fooled by McCutcheon's 2-4 record.
The Mavs have been competitive in all four of their losses, losing by 2 to West Lafayette, 1 to Frankfort, and 9 to Lafayette Jeff and Harrison.
The Mavs finished 7th in the J&C Hoops Classic, after beating Benton Central 51-38 in the 7th place game and the other win came easily, 51-28, against North Montgomery.
Rick Peckinpaugh has always done an amazing job as Mavs head coach. He's been there now for 26 years and 32 overall, and his teams are always competitive.
Bottom line, his teams always come ready to play, especially at home.
What does concern me the most is the fatigue factor for Logansport, having to play one night after Anderson gave them everything they could handle.
But the thing about McCutcheon that the Berries could exploit is that McCutcheon mostly can't score (they only average 51 points per game and have scored 51 in their two wins), and they haven't won any close, grind-it-out games. McCutcheon isn't used to that style; they are used to winning easily.
If McCutcheon can completely shut down Penny and the offense and catch Logan napping after a tough game, this one may get ugly quickly. But if the Berries come ready and refreshed and can put up points in bunches, McCutcheon may (or may not) struggle to keep up and they'll be out of it.
PREDICTION: All Logansport has to do is hold McCutcheon under 51 points and they'll be in good shape. Considering the way Logan's O has looked lately and the D is playing well in strides, I think Logan can do JUST ENOUGH to earn another victory. The Berries are 1-2 on the road this season. They need a big road win for another confidence booster, and this would certainly continue those steps in the right direction. LOGANSPORT 56, MCCUTCHEON 49
Twin Lakes travels to North White tonight and Pioneer hosts Argos. Good luck to all, enjoy the games, and see you next weekend!
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Mired in Mediocrity: How Long Do You Give A Coach?
I know, I know.
The football season is over.
I should just move on to basketball and see if that gets any better than last season.
I shouldn't spew any more about Twin Lakes football.
But...
*BUZZER*
Sorry, I have to.
So, if you came to this blog thinking I was going to write a light-hearted story on the basketball outlook, or Logansport basketball, or shoot even Purdue basketball and how good it's looking without Robbie Hummel...yeah those can wait til later.
THIS IS IMPORTANT.
How long, Twin Lakes?
How long are you going to give a coach who is clearly putting the football program back into mediocrity?
At least during my time as a student, Twin Lakes was relevant in Class 3A. Twin Lakes was a team that Hoosier conference opponents and other schools actually FEARED. Whenever a team like West Lafayette or Rensselaer came into the Reservation, they were expecting a knock-down, drag-out, beat-you-into-the-grass type of game.
But now it's like Twin Lakes has turned into styrofoam.
What was once a dragon is now a goldfish. It's something you want to flush down the toilet after a couple of weeks.
No one, I repeat, NO ONE is intimidated by Twin Lakes football anymore.
Especially not the last four years, when Brad Urban has failed to develop talent and left each season with a losing record and a first-round sectional defeat.
The only exceptions being his first season in 2006 (I really don't count that though; he did go 7-3 but that was mostly with Coach Hay's previous class) and then the following year which still had a losing regular season but the team somehow won 2 sectional games only to lose in the final to Western.
Of course they lost to Western!
Western is always good!
Know why?
They probably have a coach that can develop STINKING FOOTBALL TALENT!
With apologies to Bill Nye, consider the following:
*Urban is 21-31 in five years with the Indians. Do the math; that's below 50 percent.
*Records the last four years: 5-7, 2-8, 4-6, 3-7. That equates to 14-28 over the past 4 seasons...do the math, 33 percent winning percentage.
*The Indians have not won a sectional game since the 2007 season. The scores of the last 3 opening losses: 50-20, 32-7, 38-7. Do the math and that's a combined beatdown of 120-34.
*The Indians have not won a Hoosier Conference title under Urban's direction (obviously). The last came in 2005.
*The Indians are 0-4 against Logansport under Urban's direction. Why do they play the Berries again?
*Quick, name who else Urban has never beaten from the Hoosier Conference over the past four seasons.
*Give up? The answers: Rensselaer and West Lafayette. Where did they finish in the conference this year?
*Yep, 1st and 2nd. Surprised? I'm not.
*Urban's longest winning streak over the last four seasons? Three games. THREE.
*Urban's longest losing streak over the last four seasons? SEVEN GAMES. SEVEN!
So let me explain all of this and piece it together.
No winning seasons the last four years.
A losing streak longer than a winning streak.
Three consecutive sectional opening round losses by huge margins.
Going from a 3A, Hoosier Conference powerhouse that everyone fears to a pushover.
All because of a coach that fails to develop talent and makes play calls that make Danny Hope and the Purdue offense look pleasing to watch.
What happened to "next man up", Brad Urban?
Don't give me the excuse that Dylan McKay wasn't available for most of this season. I already wrote a whole sphiel on how Twin Lakes messed THAT one up.
You have to have every player ready for every play, no matter what.
You have to have a gameplan for every opponent, and one that you know will work.
You cannot second guess ANYTHING.
I don't know if I can pinpoint the mediocrity to one thing, many things, or Urban himself.
But he's the coach. And coaches are ultimately held responsible.
It's like the Dallas Cowboys. They no longer wanted to be mediocre with a 1-7 record, so they fired Wade Phillips mid-season. And he really hadn't been great in seasons past.
It's like Minnesota this year. They no longer wanted to be mediocre with a 1-9 record, so they fired Tim Brewster this season. Brewster had done NOTHING for the program since he took over. Not even a winning record. 6-6 was his best year, and they lost the bowl games he took part in. Sorry, Tim, but Minnesota is no Central Catholic.
It's like EVERY OTHER situation with a professional or college franchise. They want fans in the seats every night, because they want them to come out and see a competitive team with a chance to at least put up a winning record and 100% effort every night.
But with Twin Lakes football, this is not happening.
Period.
So I know we're about ready to dive into basketball season - and who knows - this year's Indians team might surprise and actually be better than the past couple seasons, which have also been difficult.
But I ask you Twin Lakes fans, alumnus, boosters, parents, and especially the players - are you willing to be mired in mediocrity? Or is somebody going to pull the trigger and say enough is enough?
Until that day comes, I'll keep ranting, raving, and simply laughing while Twin Lakes football is trying to pull its feet from the muck and continues to slowly sink in its own quicksand.
How long will you give him, Twin Lakes?
How long?
The football season is over.
I should just move on to basketball and see if that gets any better than last season.
I shouldn't spew any more about Twin Lakes football.
But...
*BUZZER*
Sorry, I have to.
So, if you came to this blog thinking I was going to write a light-hearted story on the basketball outlook, or Logansport basketball, or shoot even Purdue basketball and how good it's looking without Robbie Hummel...yeah those can wait til later.
THIS IS IMPORTANT.
How long, Twin Lakes?
How long are you going to give a coach who is clearly putting the football program back into mediocrity?
At least during my time as a student, Twin Lakes was relevant in Class 3A. Twin Lakes was a team that Hoosier conference opponents and other schools actually FEARED. Whenever a team like West Lafayette or Rensselaer came into the Reservation, they were expecting a knock-down, drag-out, beat-you-into-the-grass type of game.
But now it's like Twin Lakes has turned into styrofoam.
What was once a dragon is now a goldfish. It's something you want to flush down the toilet after a couple of weeks.
No one, I repeat, NO ONE is intimidated by Twin Lakes football anymore.
Especially not the last four years, when Brad Urban has failed to develop talent and left each season with a losing record and a first-round sectional defeat.
The only exceptions being his first season in 2006 (I really don't count that though; he did go 7-3 but that was mostly with Coach Hay's previous class) and then the following year which still had a losing regular season but the team somehow won 2 sectional games only to lose in the final to Western.
Of course they lost to Western!
Western is always good!
Know why?
They probably have a coach that can develop STINKING FOOTBALL TALENT!
With apologies to Bill Nye, consider the following:
*Urban is 21-31 in five years with the Indians. Do the math; that's below 50 percent.
*Records the last four years: 5-7, 2-8, 4-6, 3-7. That equates to 14-28 over the past 4 seasons...do the math, 33 percent winning percentage.
*The Indians have not won a sectional game since the 2007 season. The scores of the last 3 opening losses: 50-20, 32-7, 38-7. Do the math and that's a combined beatdown of 120-34.
*The Indians have not won a Hoosier Conference title under Urban's direction (obviously). The last came in 2005.
*The Indians are 0-4 against Logansport under Urban's direction. Why do they play the Berries again?
*Quick, name who else Urban has never beaten from the Hoosier Conference over the past four seasons.
*Give up? The answers: Rensselaer and West Lafayette. Where did they finish in the conference this year?
*Yep, 1st and 2nd. Surprised? I'm not.
*Urban's longest winning streak over the last four seasons? Three games. THREE.
*Urban's longest losing streak over the last four seasons? SEVEN GAMES. SEVEN!
So let me explain all of this and piece it together.
No winning seasons the last four years.
A losing streak longer than a winning streak.
Three consecutive sectional opening round losses by huge margins.
Going from a 3A, Hoosier Conference powerhouse that everyone fears to a pushover.
All because of a coach that fails to develop talent and makes play calls that make Danny Hope and the Purdue offense look pleasing to watch.
What happened to "next man up", Brad Urban?
Don't give me the excuse that Dylan McKay wasn't available for most of this season. I already wrote a whole sphiel on how Twin Lakes messed THAT one up.
You have to have every player ready for every play, no matter what.
You have to have a gameplan for every opponent, and one that you know will work.
You cannot second guess ANYTHING.
I don't know if I can pinpoint the mediocrity to one thing, many things, or Urban himself.
But he's the coach. And coaches are ultimately held responsible.
It's like the Dallas Cowboys. They no longer wanted to be mediocre with a 1-7 record, so they fired Wade Phillips mid-season. And he really hadn't been great in seasons past.
It's like Minnesota this year. They no longer wanted to be mediocre with a 1-9 record, so they fired Tim Brewster this season. Brewster had done NOTHING for the program since he took over. Not even a winning record. 6-6 was his best year, and they lost the bowl games he took part in. Sorry, Tim, but Minnesota is no Central Catholic.
It's like EVERY OTHER situation with a professional or college franchise. They want fans in the seats every night, because they want them to come out and see a competitive team with a chance to at least put up a winning record and 100% effort every night.
But with Twin Lakes football, this is not happening.
Period.
So I know we're about ready to dive into basketball season - and who knows - this year's Indians team might surprise and actually be better than the past couple seasons, which have also been difficult.
But I ask you Twin Lakes fans, alumnus, boosters, parents, and especially the players - are you willing to be mired in mediocrity? Or is somebody going to pull the trigger and say enough is enough?
Until that day comes, I'll keep ranting, raving, and simply laughing while Twin Lakes football is trying to pull its feet from the muck and continues to slowly sink in its own quicksand.
How long will you give him, Twin Lakes?
How long?
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Well, I'm giving in, but I BETTER see a win
I know I said in my prior post that I will NEVER attend another Twin Lakes home game until Brad Urban is no longer the Indians' head coach.
Well, my best friend wants to go to this week's clash with Delphi.
And really, how can I say no to him?
Besides, Delphi is honestly one of two winnable games on the Indians' schedule (besides pitiful Benton Central).
But I BETTER see a win.
If the Indians don't beat the Oracles and lose to them for an unfathomable second straight season, the dark cloud that already hangs over this season is just going to get considerably larger.
With more lightning and thunder included.
What is now a light shower may turn into a full-blown hurricane.
Hurricane Pitiful, that's what it would be.
And it wouldn't be just the remnants either, but the full storm over land.
Scary, I know.
But that's how it's been in Indians nation for the past several seasons. They've weathered difficult storms, but this year - this storm - could be the one that bursts open the flood gates and actually has the athletic director calling the National Guard and terminating the man in charge.
Unless you beat Delphi.
Unless you spring some upsets down the road, such as Rensselaer and West Lafayette.
Because the Twin Lakes Dam is on the verge of seriously bursting.
And no ounce of sandbagging would save it if this team starts 0-4.
Believe me.
*NOTE: I was actually somewhat impressed by TL's one-point defeat to 9th ranked Sheridan on the road, but again, I disagree with a terrible call at the end of the game to go for two instead of kicking the extra point and playing an overtime. What, was Urban THAT SCARED of playing one more period with the Blackhawks for one final time? Did he really think he had better odds in that situation? Well, the ending then was predictable - a stuffed run. This is the Indians' final matchup EVER with the Blackhawks, since Sheridan will join the Hoosier Heartland conference next season while Central Catholic joins the Hoosier Conference. So, really, it only gets worse doesn't it? But thank you, Sheridan, for all the memories. We certainly won't miss you, and we can only hope (and pray) that CC doesn't destroy EVERYBODY.*
Well, my best friend wants to go to this week's clash with Delphi.
And really, how can I say no to him?
Besides, Delphi is honestly one of two winnable games on the Indians' schedule (besides pitiful Benton Central).
But I BETTER see a win.
If the Indians don't beat the Oracles and lose to them for an unfathomable second straight season, the dark cloud that already hangs over this season is just going to get considerably larger.
With more lightning and thunder included.
What is now a light shower may turn into a full-blown hurricane.
Hurricane Pitiful, that's what it would be.
And it wouldn't be just the remnants either, but the full storm over land.
Scary, I know.
But that's how it's been in Indians nation for the past several seasons. They've weathered difficult storms, but this year - this storm - could be the one that bursts open the flood gates and actually has the athletic director calling the National Guard and terminating the man in charge.
Unless you beat Delphi.
Unless you spring some upsets down the road, such as Rensselaer and West Lafayette.
Because the Twin Lakes Dam is on the verge of seriously bursting.
And no ounce of sandbagging would save it if this team starts 0-4.
Believe me.
*NOTE: I was actually somewhat impressed by TL's one-point defeat to 9th ranked Sheridan on the road, but again, I disagree with a terrible call at the end of the game to go for two instead of kicking the extra point and playing an overtime. What, was Urban THAT SCARED of playing one more period with the Blackhawks for one final time? Did he really think he had better odds in that situation? Well, the ending then was predictable - a stuffed run. This is the Indians' final matchup EVER with the Blackhawks, since Sheridan will join the Hoosier Heartland conference next season while Central Catholic joins the Hoosier Conference. So, really, it only gets worse doesn't it? But thank you, Sheridan, for all the memories. We certainly won't miss you, and we can only hope (and pray) that CC doesn't destroy EVERYBODY.*
Saturday, August 28, 2010
August 28: Brad Urban gives us more ridiculous comments
After another non-surprising Twin Lakes loss, 34-13, to the Frankfort Hot Dogs last night, coach Brad Urban gave me more ridiculous comments to talk about this morning.
Let's quickly review WHY Twin Lakes lost last night.
The offense committed four turnovers, most of those being turned into Frankfort points because the defense lets trains, trucks, and the kitchen sink run through it.
Okay? Let's see what the BRILLIANT coach had to say.
"It's not that the kids aren't giving the effort. We don't focus on one player, we rotate four or five guys on the offense-"
STOP.
Um, there's ONE problem.
WHERE'S THE STAR?
There is none in your offense. Oh, wait, I forgot, he's NOWHERE TO BE FOUND right now because you still refuse to tell anybody why.
Um, CONTINUITY is the name of the game here, coach. Shuffling only confuses the offense even more unless they truly know the position they are playing.
And it doesn't exactly confuse the defense because everyone runs the same formation. That goes back to your horrendous play calling, too.
BUT WAIT! HERE'S THE GEM that REALLY set me off!
"We're 2 games through the non-conference, but those two losses don't matter. We play at Sheridan next week, and the conference games start to matter."
I TURNED THE RADIO OFF.
Um, EXCUSE ME?
What did coach Herm Edwards famously say?
"YOU PLAY TO WIN THE GAME. And when you start telling me, it doesn't matter, then retire. GET OUT!"
When you start telling fans and alumni that wins and losses don't matter, maybe you should follow Herm's advice, Coach, and get out before this season possibly gets any worse.
This is a downward spiral that I just can't see the Indians getting out of anytime soon. And I refuse to attend another Indians game until this 'coach' is gone and the program actually starts taking steps to not only win games again, but actually be competitive.
What gold will you bring us next week after the Sheridan loss? Only time will tell!
Let's quickly review WHY Twin Lakes lost last night.
The offense committed four turnovers, most of those being turned into Frankfort points because the defense lets trains, trucks, and the kitchen sink run through it.
Okay? Let's see what the BRILLIANT coach had to say.
"It's not that the kids aren't giving the effort. We don't focus on one player, we rotate four or five guys on the offense-"
STOP.
Um, there's ONE problem.
WHERE'S THE STAR?
There is none in your offense. Oh, wait, I forgot, he's NOWHERE TO BE FOUND right now because you still refuse to tell anybody why.
Um, CONTINUITY is the name of the game here, coach. Shuffling only confuses the offense even more unless they truly know the position they are playing.
And it doesn't exactly confuse the defense because everyone runs the same formation. That goes back to your horrendous play calling, too.
BUT WAIT! HERE'S THE GEM that REALLY set me off!
"We're 2 games through the non-conference, but those two losses don't matter. We play at Sheridan next week, and the conference games start to matter."
I TURNED THE RADIO OFF.
Um, EXCUSE ME?
What did coach Herm Edwards famously say?
"YOU PLAY TO WIN THE GAME. And when you start telling me, it doesn't matter, then retire. GET OUT!"
When you start telling fans and alumni that wins and losses don't matter, maybe you should follow Herm's advice, Coach, and get out before this season possibly gets any worse.
This is a downward spiral that I just can't see the Indians getting out of anytime soon. And I refuse to attend another Indians game until this 'coach' is gone and the program actually starts taking steps to not only win games again, but actually be competitive.
What gold will you bring us next week after the Sheridan loss? Only time will tell!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Twin Lakes is doing the wrong thing on McKay situation
I understand that Twin Lakes hasn't exactly been a winning football team the past few years.
It's been tough being a fan and an alumnus when it comes to the gridiron.
And I try to put an optimistic spin on things each game.
But after Week 1 of the 2010 season, I can no longer do that.
Because coach Brad Urban has shoved the last straw into this camel's back.
5-7, 2-8, 4-6 the last three seasons. That was bad enough.
A 26-7 season opening loss to Logansport, the 4th straight time the team has lost to the Berries. Sure, tough to stomach.
A fumble on the 1-yard line and two bad snaps. Eh, forgivable.
But it was something Urban told the Journal and Courier after the game that has me giving up on Twin Lakes football.
Last year's leading running back, Dylan McKay, didn't even make an appearance against Logansport. The running game combined for 36 yards on 15 carries without him.
Why, you ask?
Urban said he couldn't elaborate on the reason.
BOOM. The final straw.
I immediately knew he was trying to protect the player, and it's not an injury. It has to be an off-the-field concern that's something REALLY severe, because he also said McKay was out indefinitely.
But the way Urban - and Twin Lakes - is treating this situation is wrong.
Tell the fans and the alumni SOMETHING. Don't leave the fans in the dark and have us fear the worst for a nice kid and a player that has potential, who is also your best talent.
Lie to us.
Give us something to chew on.
But no - nothing said in the media whatsoever, and not even elaborating like it's some big secret or some 8th Wonder of the World.
Whatever.
If Brad Urban's job is to simply sabotage Twin Lakes football and actually get fired, he's doing a wonderful job of that.
Because without McKay, the Twin Lakes running game is nonexistent. Call NORAD, you're not going to find running on this team's radar. It's now a one-dimensional system. That, and the defense is so porous that at this moment, they have nothing to stop Frankfort, Sheridan, Rensselaer, West Lafayette, Tipton, North Judson, or even Central Catholic, who won't play them til 2011.
So, I guarantee this. Without McKay, Twin Lakes goes 1-9 or 2-8, counting another early sectional loss.
Do the math. You can't be an optimist anymore if you're an Indians fan, because when it comes to football, Brad Urban and his system are doing everything WRONG when it comes to on and off the field.
It's been tough being a fan and an alumnus when it comes to the gridiron.
And I try to put an optimistic spin on things each game.
But after Week 1 of the 2010 season, I can no longer do that.
Because coach Brad Urban has shoved the last straw into this camel's back.
5-7, 2-8, 4-6 the last three seasons. That was bad enough.
A 26-7 season opening loss to Logansport, the 4th straight time the team has lost to the Berries. Sure, tough to stomach.
A fumble on the 1-yard line and two bad snaps. Eh, forgivable.
But it was something Urban told the Journal and Courier after the game that has me giving up on Twin Lakes football.
Last year's leading running back, Dylan McKay, didn't even make an appearance against Logansport. The running game combined for 36 yards on 15 carries without him.
Why, you ask?
Urban said he couldn't elaborate on the reason.
BOOM. The final straw.
I immediately knew he was trying to protect the player, and it's not an injury. It has to be an off-the-field concern that's something REALLY severe, because he also said McKay was out indefinitely.
But the way Urban - and Twin Lakes - is treating this situation is wrong.
Tell the fans and the alumni SOMETHING. Don't leave the fans in the dark and have us fear the worst for a nice kid and a player that has potential, who is also your best talent.
Lie to us.
Give us something to chew on.
But no - nothing said in the media whatsoever, and not even elaborating like it's some big secret or some 8th Wonder of the World.
Whatever.
If Brad Urban's job is to simply sabotage Twin Lakes football and actually get fired, he's doing a wonderful job of that.
Because without McKay, the Twin Lakes running game is nonexistent. Call NORAD, you're not going to find running on this team's radar. It's now a one-dimensional system. That, and the defense is so porous that at this moment, they have nothing to stop Frankfort, Sheridan, Rensselaer, West Lafayette, Tipton, North Judson, or even Central Catholic, who won't play them til 2011.
So, I guarantee this. Without McKay, Twin Lakes goes 1-9 or 2-8, counting another early sectional loss.
Do the math. You can't be an optimist anymore if you're an Indians fan, because when it comes to football, Brad Urban and his system are doing everything WRONG when it comes to on and off the field.
Monday, March 22, 2010
PokerStars Recap 3/22/2010
I'm a big-time Texas Hold 'Em Poker player. My best friend and I have been playing hold-em matches for five years. We've played online and played in one live tournament. We always talk about the WSOP and watch as many events as we can to learn new strategies.
Tonight, I jumped on PokerStars for the first time in a LONG time (seriously), and actually, I had a pretty good night.
I started with 5,231 in chips. I've been higher before, but I have had two slumps during the summer on both this one and Full Tilt. I have a higher total on Full Tilt. I'll probably play it next when I'm in the mood.
I came to the first table and only put 500 in to start. I wasn't hitting anything and it quickly evaporated, so I was down to 4,731. I wasn't feeling too good about already being in the red.
I switched rooms and things quickly improved. I was nailing showdowns left and right, winning 2 hands in a row with pretty good pots (and hands), including a flopped full house and some strong two-pairs. When the crowd dwindled, I ended up leaving that room up 4,155, bringing my total count to 8,886. I was confident I could end the night with over 10,000 in chips.
The swagger continued as I switched to Mars VII. I started strong, winning a few pots here and there to pass the 10,000 total mark. But then I fell into another slump and gave up a little too much. I went all-in with King-Ace and nothing helped. I was back down to 7,886, but still ahead in total.
I laid down another 1,000 as I switched to Veritas VIII, and things looked good early as I won the first hand I played with a two-pair over a measly 7-A that didn't even hit the board. I was quickly up to 8,906 and things looked good. Then again, I had good cards at the start but nothing was hitting or I was getting beat by better hands. I left the room after losing to a full house. I ended up losing 137 in that room, and decided to call it a night after two disappointing performances.
In the end, my total now stands at 7,749, so I was +2,518 for the night. I was fairly pleased, but I felt like I was starting to get too confident and felt like I could win hands that could be beatable. At first, I was reading players like a book; eventually the more I got, the ability wore away and I started kicking myself for dumb plays.
But the stats tell a pretty good story. I played 36 of 54 hands, a solid 66%. This is about average for most players. I played 7 of 8 from the big blind, 9 of 12 from the small blind, and 20 of 34 in other positions. I started strong in the showdowns winning my first 6, but ended up only 8 for 14 (57 percent).
The way I see it, it could have been a heckuva lot better. But anytime I end up in the green, I feel like the night went pretty well. I did leave a lot on the table though. I'm just glad I gained more than I lost in the end. At least I know when to get out of the table's way. :-)
As I said, I'll probably be playing Full Tilt next time I'm in the mood. I've had my share of good runs and bad runs on that one...who knows what the next time's going to bring. But that's why I love the game, and at this point in my life, I can't imagine giving it up.
Tonight, I jumped on PokerStars for the first time in a LONG time (seriously), and actually, I had a pretty good night.
I started with 5,231 in chips. I've been higher before, but I have had two slumps during the summer on both this one and Full Tilt. I have a higher total on Full Tilt. I'll probably play it next when I'm in the mood.
I came to the first table and only put 500 in to start. I wasn't hitting anything and it quickly evaporated, so I was down to 4,731. I wasn't feeling too good about already being in the red.
I switched rooms and things quickly improved. I was nailing showdowns left and right, winning 2 hands in a row with pretty good pots (and hands), including a flopped full house and some strong two-pairs. When the crowd dwindled, I ended up leaving that room up 4,155, bringing my total count to 8,886. I was confident I could end the night with over 10,000 in chips.
The swagger continued as I switched to Mars VII. I started strong, winning a few pots here and there to pass the 10,000 total mark. But then I fell into another slump and gave up a little too much. I went all-in with King-Ace and nothing helped. I was back down to 7,886, but still ahead in total.
I laid down another 1,000 as I switched to Veritas VIII, and things looked good early as I won the first hand I played with a two-pair over a measly 7-A that didn't even hit the board. I was quickly up to 8,906 and things looked good. Then again, I had good cards at the start but nothing was hitting or I was getting beat by better hands. I left the room after losing to a full house. I ended up losing 137 in that room, and decided to call it a night after two disappointing performances.
In the end, my total now stands at 7,749, so I was +2,518 for the night. I was fairly pleased, but I felt like I was starting to get too confident and felt like I could win hands that could be beatable. At first, I was reading players like a book; eventually the more I got, the ability wore away and I started kicking myself for dumb plays.
But the stats tell a pretty good story. I played 36 of 54 hands, a solid 66%. This is about average for most players. I played 7 of 8 from the big blind, 9 of 12 from the small blind, and 20 of 34 in other positions. I started strong in the showdowns winning my first 6, but ended up only 8 for 14 (57 percent).
The way I see it, it could have been a heckuva lot better. But anytime I end up in the green, I feel like the night went pretty well. I did leave a lot on the table though. I'm just glad I gained more than I lost in the end. At least I know when to get out of the table's way. :-)
As I said, I'll probably be playing Full Tilt next time I'm in the mood. I've had my share of good runs and bad runs on that one...who knows what the next time's going to bring. But that's why I love the game, and at this point in my life, I can't imagine giving it up.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Chapter 6: The Mysterious Haven City
Lena smiled and nodded. “Haven City is in a very beautiful place. As you found out, it’s just off the coast of Brazil, on a tiny island called Sandista. As I said, it’s always been prosperous. The citizens live in a very close-knit society, our kingdom rules with an iron fist, we try our best to keep the enemy out…and of course…” She said the next statement with a laugh “we can’t forget about the Precursors.”
Chris perked up. “The Precursors? Are these like, the ones who founded Haven City?”
Lena nodded. “Yes. But they’re not who you might think. You see, the Precursors were these creatures called ottsels, which is a combination between a otter and a weasel. They can swim and walk on land, are very intelligent, and basically built Haven City from the ground up. No one really knows how they were able to accumulate so much wealth in the early stages, but ever since they returned to the waters, the people who came over have been very thankful that the ottsels left the city just how they designed it.”
Chris was very intrigued now. He wanted to ask these ottsels so many questions.
“So, these ottsels…are there any of them left?”
Lena shook her head. “The Precursors are rarely seen. Sometimes they’ll make appearances here and there just to check on their city, but otherwise they mostly have their own lives in our waters now. As far as I know, when Steve and I were shelled out, there were none in the city.”
“Aw…bummer.” Chris said. “Now who can I ask all my questions to when I get there?”
Lena gave him a shocking look. “You’re not actually thinking of going there, are you?”
Chris looked in her eyes. “I have to. I have to find a story there that can save the newspaper. I don’t know why, but I think there’s a reason why the dart that I threw took me there.”
Lena also had a moment. Could it be? Could it be that maybe, just maybe, one of the ottsels is signaling for help?
Lena knew she couldn’t talk Chris out of it. She said calmly, “The Thunderbolts may be moving in for their last invasion at any moment. It may be the biggest one of them all. Since they already have the King, they may try to take over Haven City completely.”
Chris swallowed. He didn’t want to be part of a rescue mission; he just wanted to write a great story!
But Lena pulled out something from under the sink. It was a HUGE blasting gun.
“Take this for your own protection. You will likely need it. And if you find an ottsel to help you and answer your questions, you will be one lucky reporter, Mr. Saunders.”
Then, just as Steve was walking back in and yelled out, “Has Chris left yet?” Lena gave Chris a quick kiss on the lips.
“LENA!” shouted Steve.
“STEVE! It’s not what you think! I was telling Chris about Haven City and what he needed to do there. He’s going there to save the paper and maybe even the town!”
Steve stared at Chris. Chris just gave him a little wave.
Steve put his hands on Chris’s shoulders. Instead of getting angry, Steve hugged him and cried.
Man oh man, Chris thought. That city and those people are going through total heck. But how do they manage to live so well then?
Steve then said, “Chris, my friend. I was afraid to tell you my story. That’s why I ran out. I didn’t have the strength nor the heart. But now that you know it, Lena and I will definitely support you and be cheering you on from afar. Good luck, son.”
As Steve and Lena walked out the back way home, Chris just sat there, staring into the last of his coffee, and turned off the tape recorder.
“Dear God, what have I gotten myself into?”
But there was no turning back now. Chris had to head home, pack his bags, and leave. The cruise ship for Haven City was leaving at 9 a.m. the next morning.
“Please, please, let me run into an ottsel to help me,” Chris said as he walked those dark, lonely streets home. “’Cause I know I can’t do this alone.”
(Word Count: 4,558 - a mere 9.1%)
Chris perked up. “The Precursors? Are these like, the ones who founded Haven City?”
Lena nodded. “Yes. But they’re not who you might think. You see, the Precursors were these creatures called ottsels, which is a combination between a otter and a weasel. They can swim and walk on land, are very intelligent, and basically built Haven City from the ground up. No one really knows how they were able to accumulate so much wealth in the early stages, but ever since they returned to the waters, the people who came over have been very thankful that the ottsels left the city just how they designed it.”
Chris was very intrigued now. He wanted to ask these ottsels so many questions.
“So, these ottsels…are there any of them left?”
Lena shook her head. “The Precursors are rarely seen. Sometimes they’ll make appearances here and there just to check on their city, but otherwise they mostly have their own lives in our waters now. As far as I know, when Steve and I were shelled out, there were none in the city.”
“Aw…bummer.” Chris said. “Now who can I ask all my questions to when I get there?”
Lena gave him a shocking look. “You’re not actually thinking of going there, are you?”
Chris looked in her eyes. “I have to. I have to find a story there that can save the newspaper. I don’t know why, but I think there’s a reason why the dart that I threw took me there.”
Lena also had a moment. Could it be? Could it be that maybe, just maybe, one of the ottsels is signaling for help?
Lena knew she couldn’t talk Chris out of it. She said calmly, “The Thunderbolts may be moving in for their last invasion at any moment. It may be the biggest one of them all. Since they already have the King, they may try to take over Haven City completely.”
Chris swallowed. He didn’t want to be part of a rescue mission; he just wanted to write a great story!
But Lena pulled out something from under the sink. It was a HUGE blasting gun.
“Take this for your own protection. You will likely need it. And if you find an ottsel to help you and answer your questions, you will be one lucky reporter, Mr. Saunders.”
Then, just as Steve was walking back in and yelled out, “Has Chris left yet?” Lena gave Chris a quick kiss on the lips.
“LENA!” shouted Steve.
“STEVE! It’s not what you think! I was telling Chris about Haven City and what he needed to do there. He’s going there to save the paper and maybe even the town!”
Steve stared at Chris. Chris just gave him a little wave.
Steve put his hands on Chris’s shoulders. Instead of getting angry, Steve hugged him and cried.
Man oh man, Chris thought. That city and those people are going through total heck. But how do they manage to live so well then?
Steve then said, “Chris, my friend. I was afraid to tell you my story. That’s why I ran out. I didn’t have the strength nor the heart. But now that you know it, Lena and I will definitely support you and be cheering you on from afar. Good luck, son.”
As Steve and Lena walked out the back way home, Chris just sat there, staring into the last of his coffee, and turned off the tape recorder.
“Dear God, what have I gotten myself into?”
But there was no turning back now. Chris had to head home, pack his bags, and leave. The cruise ship for Haven City was leaving at 9 a.m. the next morning.
“Please, please, let me run into an ottsel to help me,” Chris said as he walked those dark, lonely streets home. “’Cause I know I can’t do this alone.”
(Word Count: 4,558 - a mere 9.1%)
Chapter 5: The Two Mysterious Individuals
Chris quickly put his computer away. He became intrigued.
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Lena. I work here with Steve, but you rarely see me because I’m so busy. It’s alright, I guess.”
Lena went behind the counter and started making herself a cup. I thought all she did was clean tables, Chris thought.
“So what can you tell me about Haven City? It seemed like Steve was scared crazy when I asked him about it.”
Lena turned and looked Chris deep in the eyes. “Mr. Reporter, there’s so much you can learn, but so little you can share with the public, about Haven City.”
Chris wondered, “Who is this girl?” But he quickly grabbed a tape recorder.
“You don’t mind if I record this, do you? I need as much information as I can get.”
“No, not at all,” Lena said with that infectious smile. “But once you get there, I would be careful…you never know what might happen. Where do you want me to start?” she said as she took a sip of her coffee. “Steve’s story, my story, or background about the city in general?”
“Oh, just go in that order…” Chris said as he sipped. “I didn’t even think that Steve had a story…I figured you did…”
Lena slapped him across the face.
“OW! What the dicken was that for?”
“Why else would Steve run out of his own establishment when you asked him about Haven City? Wake up, Mr. Brilliant Journalist!”
Chris then had an epiphany. “Wait a minute…something happened to him there, didn’t it?”
Lena nodded, then proceeded to tell him their story. Chris hit the record button and listened intently.
“You see, Steve and I…for one thing, we’re kind of…married.”
Chris almost spit out his coffee, but instead barely managed to swallow it down. “Come again? Steve never told me that.”
“Of course he’s not going to tell you that! If he told you, you probably wouldn’t believe it!”
“Very true. Continue.”
“Anyway, also, Steve and I were both born in Haven City.”
Chris couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Then what were they doing in Pittsburgh? He thought.
“You see, Steve and I were living a great life together there. Our king was running the kingdom and city very effectively, and keeping all the intruders at bay. Our city is very prosperous, full of riches. Multiple enemies try and take them from us. Over time, we’ve managed to kill several of them off…except for one…the Thunderbolts.”
“The Thunderbolts?” Chris thought for a minute. “Wait…I did a story one time on them. Aren’t they a bunch of villains who got nowhere in life, so they took out their frustrations by robbing, stealing, and killing?”
“Pretty much.” Lena said as she stared into her coffee. “They are so persistent. Fortunately, though, they’ve cut back to invading only once per season.”
Chris thought to himself – wait a minute, that’s four times a year! But he didn’t want to discuss it; he just continued listening.
“However, one year ago, the Thunderbolts were ready to conduct their winter invasion. We were struggling to keep warm and prices were really going up. It was tough, but we still had to have our defenses intact, and we did…but…” Lena started crying and getting very emotional.
Chris tried to sympathize. “Oh, Lena, it couldn’t have been that bad.”
Lena screamed out, “THEY DID A SNEAK ATTACK! THEY CAPTURED KING QUINN AND TOOK ALMOST ALL THE RICHES FROM THE HOMES!”
Chris said, “Oh…”
Lena sniffled as tears streamed down her face. “We had to get out of Haven City. It was so much destruction. We hardly had anything left. So we just took the next ship that went out, and here we are in Pittsburgh.”
Chris couldn’t believe he had been so blind. He thought his life and his problems were bad, but these two individuals – and so many others – had been through much, much worse.
Chris touched Lena’s cheek. He wanted to cheer her up.
“Lena, I know this is hard for you. But what you tell me could not only help me and the paper, but help the people of Haven City. Can you tell me about the city itself?”
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Lena. I work here with Steve, but you rarely see me because I’m so busy. It’s alright, I guess.”
Lena went behind the counter and started making herself a cup. I thought all she did was clean tables, Chris thought.
“So what can you tell me about Haven City? It seemed like Steve was scared crazy when I asked him about it.”
Lena turned and looked Chris deep in the eyes. “Mr. Reporter, there’s so much you can learn, but so little you can share with the public, about Haven City.”
Chris wondered, “Who is this girl?” But he quickly grabbed a tape recorder.
“You don’t mind if I record this, do you? I need as much information as I can get.”
“No, not at all,” Lena said with that infectious smile. “But once you get there, I would be careful…you never know what might happen. Where do you want me to start?” she said as she took a sip of her coffee. “Steve’s story, my story, or background about the city in general?”
“Oh, just go in that order…” Chris said as he sipped. “I didn’t even think that Steve had a story…I figured you did…”
Lena slapped him across the face.
“OW! What the dicken was that for?”
“Why else would Steve run out of his own establishment when you asked him about Haven City? Wake up, Mr. Brilliant Journalist!”
Chris then had an epiphany. “Wait a minute…something happened to him there, didn’t it?”
Lena nodded, then proceeded to tell him their story. Chris hit the record button and listened intently.
“You see, Steve and I…for one thing, we’re kind of…married.”
Chris almost spit out his coffee, but instead barely managed to swallow it down. “Come again? Steve never told me that.”
“Of course he’s not going to tell you that! If he told you, you probably wouldn’t believe it!”
“Very true. Continue.”
“Anyway, also, Steve and I were both born in Haven City.”
Chris couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Then what were they doing in Pittsburgh? He thought.
“You see, Steve and I were living a great life together there. Our king was running the kingdom and city very effectively, and keeping all the intruders at bay. Our city is very prosperous, full of riches. Multiple enemies try and take them from us. Over time, we’ve managed to kill several of them off…except for one…the Thunderbolts.”
“The Thunderbolts?” Chris thought for a minute. “Wait…I did a story one time on them. Aren’t they a bunch of villains who got nowhere in life, so they took out their frustrations by robbing, stealing, and killing?”
“Pretty much.” Lena said as she stared into her coffee. “They are so persistent. Fortunately, though, they’ve cut back to invading only once per season.”
Chris thought to himself – wait a minute, that’s four times a year! But he didn’t want to discuss it; he just continued listening.
“However, one year ago, the Thunderbolts were ready to conduct their winter invasion. We were struggling to keep warm and prices were really going up. It was tough, but we still had to have our defenses intact, and we did…but…” Lena started crying and getting very emotional.
Chris tried to sympathize. “Oh, Lena, it couldn’t have been that bad.”
Lena screamed out, “THEY DID A SNEAK ATTACK! THEY CAPTURED KING QUINN AND TOOK ALMOST ALL THE RICHES FROM THE HOMES!”
Chris said, “Oh…”
Lena sniffled as tears streamed down her face. “We had to get out of Haven City. It was so much destruction. We hardly had anything left. So we just took the next ship that went out, and here we are in Pittsburgh.”
Chris couldn’t believe he had been so blind. He thought his life and his problems were bad, but these two individuals – and so many others – had been through much, much worse.
Chris touched Lena’s cheek. He wanted to cheer her up.
“Lena, I know this is hard for you. But what you tell me could not only help me and the paper, but help the people of Haven City. Can you tell me about the city itself?”
Chapter 4: The Meeting
Chris walked through the quiet, lonely streets of Pittsburgh that night, thinking out loud to himself.
“There has to be some reason why that dart did what it did,” Chris said. “I think it’s fate that I need to go to this Haven City. There has to be a great story there, just has to be!”
Chris wanted to jump on his laptop right away and start researching this far-away, exotic place, but he desperately needed a cup of coffee first. He was so tired from not only working hard, but drained from working the long hours. He was taking on the role of becoming the paper’s savior, after all.
Hardly anyone was on the streets at night. It was a lonely, empty feeling – a similar feeling that was in Chris’s heart. Could he really do this? Could he somehow rise above all the frustration and disappointment and be seen as a hero?
Chris walked into the Steeltown Café, the only café in Pittsburgh, and the only one open 24 hours. The owner, whom everyone called “Steely Steve”, was surprised to see him as he sat down.
“Chris? Chris Saunders, is that you?”
“Yeah, Steve, it’s me. Give me a tall decaf. I’m struggling here.”
Steve nodded his head and gave Chris a smile as he prepared his coffee. “You look like it. And I know you only come here when there’s something on your mind.”
Chris couldn’t shy from that information. Steve knew him way too well.
“It isn’t about the newspaper situation, is it?”
Yep, Steve knew him.
“Basically. You see, I didn’t want the paper to die, so I decided to step in and be the hero. Now I got to find a big story that’s amazing enough to save the paper.”
Steve sighed and said, “Of course you do. That’s how you are, Chris – you’re the one with all the problems in this town and you think you can fix them all, even the ones that aren’t your own.”
Chris glanced a stern look at Steve. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it. You fight your own personal demons, you deal with the paper’s issues…Whenever there’s something going on, you try to step in and say, ‘I can fix that!’ One person can’t fix everything, Chris.”
Steve set Chris’s coffee on the counter. It was steaming, yet Chris knew it would be tough to wait for it to cool. All he could do was stare into it as he gathered his thoughts.
“Oh, Steve, I know, but…my life has been tough enough. I lose the love of my life as I’m about to take the job of my life, and now the job of my life may be gone unless I do something about it. There was no one else there to help me.”
Steve was starting to get where Chris was coming from, but he wanted to give him one more piece of advice.
“Chris, I wish you nothing but all the luck in the world, but be warned: Sometimes, a savior gets into more opportunities for trouble than for heroism. Remember that. I’m here for you, though, if you need help.”
The coffee had cooled. Chris took a sip. It was pleasantly relaxing. Now remembering where he was and who he was talking to, Chris pulled out his laptop and asked Steve, “You ever hear of a place called Haven City?”
Steve turned to stone. He dropped the plastic cup he was holding and it clattered to the floor.
Steve was starting to shiver. No, not that place! Steve thought. I can’t tell him about what happened to me there…
Steve quickly shot through the back doors and out the exit.
“How weird,” Chris said.
Then, a young female who was cleaning tables was right up against Chris’s chair. Chris turned and looked, flabbergasted.
She smiled and said, “I can tell you about Haven City. You can put that computer away.”
“There has to be some reason why that dart did what it did,” Chris said. “I think it’s fate that I need to go to this Haven City. There has to be a great story there, just has to be!”
Chris wanted to jump on his laptop right away and start researching this far-away, exotic place, but he desperately needed a cup of coffee first. He was so tired from not only working hard, but drained from working the long hours. He was taking on the role of becoming the paper’s savior, after all.
Hardly anyone was on the streets at night. It was a lonely, empty feeling – a similar feeling that was in Chris’s heart. Could he really do this? Could he somehow rise above all the frustration and disappointment and be seen as a hero?
Chris walked into the Steeltown Café, the only café in Pittsburgh, and the only one open 24 hours. The owner, whom everyone called “Steely Steve”, was surprised to see him as he sat down.
“Chris? Chris Saunders, is that you?”
“Yeah, Steve, it’s me. Give me a tall decaf. I’m struggling here.”
Steve nodded his head and gave Chris a smile as he prepared his coffee. “You look like it. And I know you only come here when there’s something on your mind.”
Chris couldn’t shy from that information. Steve knew him way too well.
“It isn’t about the newspaper situation, is it?”
Yep, Steve knew him.
“Basically. You see, I didn’t want the paper to die, so I decided to step in and be the hero. Now I got to find a big story that’s amazing enough to save the paper.”
Steve sighed and said, “Of course you do. That’s how you are, Chris – you’re the one with all the problems in this town and you think you can fix them all, even the ones that aren’t your own.”
Chris glanced a stern look at Steve. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it. You fight your own personal demons, you deal with the paper’s issues…Whenever there’s something going on, you try to step in and say, ‘I can fix that!’ One person can’t fix everything, Chris.”
Steve set Chris’s coffee on the counter. It was steaming, yet Chris knew it would be tough to wait for it to cool. All he could do was stare into it as he gathered his thoughts.
“Oh, Steve, I know, but…my life has been tough enough. I lose the love of my life as I’m about to take the job of my life, and now the job of my life may be gone unless I do something about it. There was no one else there to help me.”
Steve was starting to get where Chris was coming from, but he wanted to give him one more piece of advice.
“Chris, I wish you nothing but all the luck in the world, but be warned: Sometimes, a savior gets into more opportunities for trouble than for heroism. Remember that. I’m here for you, though, if you need help.”
The coffee had cooled. Chris took a sip. It was pleasantly relaxing. Now remembering where he was and who he was talking to, Chris pulled out his laptop and asked Steve, “You ever hear of a place called Haven City?”
Steve turned to stone. He dropped the plastic cup he was holding and it clattered to the floor.
Steve was starting to shiver. No, not that place! Steve thought. I can’t tell him about what happened to me there…
Steve quickly shot through the back doors and out the exit.
“How weird,” Chris said.
Then, a young female who was cleaning tables was right up against Chris’s chair. Chris turned and looked, flabbergasted.
She smiled and said, “I can tell you about Haven City. You can put that computer away.”
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Chris and the Ottsel: Chapter 3: The Ideas
“What the hell have I got myself into?” Chris said to himself as he hunched over his desk on the 10th floor.
It was the same view he had come to know and love. He could see all of downtown. He could see the three rivers. Heck, he could even see his house. But none of that mattered right now. He would lose it all if the paper went down, and now, he was the only one who could save not only himself, but the paper as well.
Chris had a pencil and paper, and was trying to scribble down ideas furiously. But all of them seemed out of reach and just too expensive – the rain forests in Africa, the pollution problems, the rare phenomena – the same song and dance had been done before, and he really couldn’t come up with anything new.
Hours went by. Chris thought to himself, “It’s a wonder Dave hasn’t come in here to check on me.”
At 7:00, Dave finally did. Suddenly, he had changed his dour expression from earlier into one of hope and confidence.
“Hey, hey, Saunders! How are those ideas coming along?”
Chris faked a smile and said, “Oh, they’re coming, sir! Fast and furious! I’m bound to find one that stands out and makes people ooh and aah!”
Dave’s looked changed back to a stern one. “You better. Remember – two weeks…I’m out. ‘Night.”
“Night.” Chris said as his office door closed.
How long can I possibly stay here? Chris thought. I have to make this process shorter.
Chris remembered that he was given a long, huge map of the world his first day that he had never even seen and never even put on his wall, because he felt he would never need to use it. Well, this was one of those times to use it!
Chris quickly reached into his bottom door and pulled out the behemoth poster. He also pulled out his extra-large pushpins and tacked it on his wall, placing them about 3 feet apart on the top and bottom.
“Nice,” Chris said as he admired his work. But now Chris was faced with another dilemma: How would he choose the location?
Randomly placing a finger somewhere? Too boring, and he might get dizzy and faint.
Writing down a list and just narrowing it down? No, and besides he had wasted enough paper already.
He had to find some random way to do it. He looked through the doors. Maybe an old worker had left something in there for this type of situation. Suddenly, he felt something pointy in the 2nd left-hand drawer.
“Ow!” Chris said.
Then, he saw what it was: A dart!
“OW!” Chris screamed, now in a more happy, painfree way, as he picked up the dart. This is the perfect way to do it, Chris thought.
Chris looked at the map, staring hard. He had to think about all the different factors: where to aim, how to shoot, and whether or not he should close his eyes.
Chris quickly decided. In order for it to be completely random, Chris decided to close his eyes, aim for the center at first, then do a number of twists, spins, and other crazy moves until he just let it go.
“That way, I won’t know until I’ve opened my eyes,” Chris said, with a slight laugh.
Chris backed up, away from his desk, toward the opposite wall. He zeroed in on the center of the map at first, pointing the dart at it. At the moment, it was zeroed in on Chris’s first choice: Africa.
“Please, dart…pick a place that I can find a story that’s worthy of saving this paper, and my career.”
Chris closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He then moved left, moved right, spun around, flailed all around, and then launched his arm back and forward. He heard the dart quickly sail through the air with a wheeze, but had no clue where it was going, and didn’t know until he heard the dart hit the map and wall with a BOOSH.
Chris kept his eyes closed for a few seconds, then opened them. His mouth dropped.
The dart wasn’t in Africa. The dart wasn’t even in the United States.
It wasn’t in Europe, nor Asia, not even Antarctica where nothing was.
No, the dart had landed, at first glance, in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of South America.
“Are you kidding? That doesn’t help me! I’ve got to throw again.” Chris said with a sigh. Now he knew he was going to be there all night.
But as Chris approached the map, he saw something. The dart hadn’t landed in the ocean – it had landed on a medium-sized island, just off the Brazilian coast. It had landed smack in the middle.
Chris had his eyes right up to where the dart had embedded itself. He saw two bold words in fairly large print: HAVEN CITY.
“Haven City?” Chris said.
He couldn’t believe it. Why would the magic dart land Chris in a place he’d never heard of, and an island he didn’t even know existed until now?
Chris knew that there had to be a reason, though. Without thinking, he grabbed his briefcase, darted out of the room, went down the elevator, and out the front door.
He had to do some research on this Haven City. What made it so mysterious and interesting, if anything?
(Word Count at this point: 2,440 - a mere 4.8%)
It was the same view he had come to know and love. He could see all of downtown. He could see the three rivers. Heck, he could even see his house. But none of that mattered right now. He would lose it all if the paper went down, and now, he was the only one who could save not only himself, but the paper as well.
Chris had a pencil and paper, and was trying to scribble down ideas furiously. But all of them seemed out of reach and just too expensive – the rain forests in Africa, the pollution problems, the rare phenomena – the same song and dance had been done before, and he really couldn’t come up with anything new.
Hours went by. Chris thought to himself, “It’s a wonder Dave hasn’t come in here to check on me.”
At 7:00, Dave finally did. Suddenly, he had changed his dour expression from earlier into one of hope and confidence.
“Hey, hey, Saunders! How are those ideas coming along?”
Chris faked a smile and said, “Oh, they’re coming, sir! Fast and furious! I’m bound to find one that stands out and makes people ooh and aah!”
Dave’s looked changed back to a stern one. “You better. Remember – two weeks…I’m out. ‘Night.”
“Night.” Chris said as his office door closed.
How long can I possibly stay here? Chris thought. I have to make this process shorter.
Chris remembered that he was given a long, huge map of the world his first day that he had never even seen and never even put on his wall, because he felt he would never need to use it. Well, this was one of those times to use it!
Chris quickly reached into his bottom door and pulled out the behemoth poster. He also pulled out his extra-large pushpins and tacked it on his wall, placing them about 3 feet apart on the top and bottom.
“Nice,” Chris said as he admired his work. But now Chris was faced with another dilemma: How would he choose the location?
Randomly placing a finger somewhere? Too boring, and he might get dizzy and faint.
Writing down a list and just narrowing it down? No, and besides he had wasted enough paper already.
He had to find some random way to do it. He looked through the doors. Maybe an old worker had left something in there for this type of situation. Suddenly, he felt something pointy in the 2nd left-hand drawer.
“Ow!” Chris said.
Then, he saw what it was: A dart!
“OW!” Chris screamed, now in a more happy, painfree way, as he picked up the dart. This is the perfect way to do it, Chris thought.
Chris looked at the map, staring hard. He had to think about all the different factors: where to aim, how to shoot, and whether or not he should close his eyes.
Chris quickly decided. In order for it to be completely random, Chris decided to close his eyes, aim for the center at first, then do a number of twists, spins, and other crazy moves until he just let it go.
“That way, I won’t know until I’ve opened my eyes,” Chris said, with a slight laugh.
Chris backed up, away from his desk, toward the opposite wall. He zeroed in on the center of the map at first, pointing the dart at it. At the moment, it was zeroed in on Chris’s first choice: Africa.
“Please, dart…pick a place that I can find a story that’s worthy of saving this paper, and my career.”
Chris closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He then moved left, moved right, spun around, flailed all around, and then launched his arm back and forward. He heard the dart quickly sail through the air with a wheeze, but had no clue where it was going, and didn’t know until he heard the dart hit the map and wall with a BOOSH.
Chris kept his eyes closed for a few seconds, then opened them. His mouth dropped.
The dart wasn’t in Africa. The dart wasn’t even in the United States.
It wasn’t in Europe, nor Asia, not even Antarctica where nothing was.
No, the dart had landed, at first glance, in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of South America.
“Are you kidding? That doesn’t help me! I’ve got to throw again.” Chris said with a sigh. Now he knew he was going to be there all night.
But as Chris approached the map, he saw something. The dart hadn’t landed in the ocean – it had landed on a medium-sized island, just off the Brazilian coast. It had landed smack in the middle.
Chris had his eyes right up to where the dart had embedded itself. He saw two bold words in fairly large print: HAVEN CITY.
“Haven City?” Chris said.
He couldn’t believe it. Why would the magic dart land Chris in a place he’d never heard of, and an island he didn’t even know existed until now?
Chris knew that there had to be a reason, though. Without thinking, he grabbed his briefcase, darted out of the room, went down the elevator, and out the front door.
He had to do some research on this Haven City. What made it so mysterious and interesting, if anything?
(Word Count at this point: 2,440 - a mere 4.8%)
Chris and the Ottsel: Chapter 2: The Situation
Chris burst through the front doors of the Pittsburgh Picayune main office building. Everything was inside that building – his office, the printing presses, the sweet smell of flowers at the main desk – it was his home. He couldn’t bear to see it go.
He usually said hi to Butch, the main security guard in the morning, but all Chris could get out was, “Sorry Butch, emergency!”
But Chris heard nothing. Butch wasn’t there.
He stopped in his tracks.
“Hello?” his voice echoed.
It seemed as if nobody was there. Damn it, I’m too late! He thought.
Then he heard a faint moaning from an upstairs room.
But it wasn’t just any room. It was the editor’s room.
“Dave,” Chris said with a sigh, as he slowly made his way toward the elevator, to head up to the 20th floor.
Dave Jansen had been in journalism for 30 years. He also started out at the Picayune when he was Chris’s age, and quickly made his way up the totem pole to the editor’s desk. No paper in the Pittsburgh area had been finer, had been run more efficiently, under his direction. But with the Internet and other media outlets taking over, it wasn’t a surprise to see several papers littered around the Pittsburgh streets.
But Chris still knew that the paper was popular. It hadn’t been completely discarded from people’s minds. In reality, it was the only paper in Pittsburgh that really received recognition.
Chris had thoughts racing through his mind as he continued to go up, up, up to the top. What do I say? What will Dave say? I have to sell myself.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he finally made it.
He slightly rapped on the door. He heard a faint noise from under the desk.
“Who…who is it? Nobody should be here; I sent a company wide e-mail to give everyone the day off.”
Chris knew it was Dave. “Dave, it’s just me. Saunders. I don’t check my e-mail in the mornings.”
Dave slowly popped his head up. “Oh, Chris. Well, you should start.”
Chris quickly got to the point.
“Dave, you’ve been here for 30 years. I’m just starting out, but journalism is my life. I love this building. I love this town. I love my desk-“
“Spare me the details, Saunders!” Dave screamed so that the entire floor could hear.
Chris quickly shut his mouth.
Dave took a deep breath and sighed. “Look, Saunders. We’ve done all we can. All our other reporters are telling me day after day they’re running out of story ideas and that we can’t compete with the other media anymore. Pretty soon, it’s going to be advertisements on every page. It’s over, okay? I can’t drag a newspaper in the dirt like this.”
Chris understood how Dave felt. But he had to think of something to be a savior.
“But sir, people still subscribe. They still read it. We’re still the most read paper in Pittsburgh.”
Dave looked hard into Chris’s eyes. “Saunders, we’re the ONLY read paper in Pittsburgh! And our subscriber number is dwindling! And have you noticed all the litter on the streets? That’s OUR work being thrown out for no reason!”
Chris knew the situation was becoming really dire. He knew that he couldn’t convince Dave unless he really threw him a curveball.
“Face it, Saunders. It’s over. I’m selling the building to a condo company in two weeks and we’re shutting down then. For now, we’ll just be putting in reruns of our best stories. Find a new job, move, something. I don’t want to take you down with me. You’re such a hard worker.”
Chris knew this was his chance.
“Then why don’t I try and find a story to save us?”
Dave stared, then chuckled, then busted out laughing. He even shed some tears.
“Seriously, Saunders? You? Not that I don’t have any faith in you, but I just can’t imagine a 21-year-old like yourself picking some random place, finding a random story, and getting enough people interested to make profit and save our paper.”
“What do I have to lose? This is my life, your life, the paper’s life, and the information that our city needs’ life at stake here. Do you really want condos taking over the lifebreath of our medium?”
Dave shook his head. Chris’s face moved closer so it almost met Dave’s.
“Then, sir, I will do whatever I have to ensure that this paper stays intact.”
Dave knew there was no other option. He knew he couldn’t make Chris change his mind now.
Dave sighed again. “Alright, Saunders. I’ll give you the two weeks to find something juicy, report it, write it, and print it. But you’ve got to do it all by yourself since no one else will be allowed in here during that time.”
Chris could figure out how to run everything else. He was a quick learner, after all.
“Yes, sir,” Chris said. “Thank you, sir.”
Chris began to walk out and head toward the elevators, down to his office on the 10th floor.
Dave stopped him. “Saunders?”
“Yes, Dave?”
“If you pull this off, not only will you earn a promotion and a raise, but you will earn the respect of me and the entire city of Pittsburgh.” Dave saluted him. “Good luck, son.”
Chris smiled. His mission had begun, and there was no turning back now.
He usually said hi to Butch, the main security guard in the morning, but all Chris could get out was, “Sorry Butch, emergency!”
But Chris heard nothing. Butch wasn’t there.
He stopped in his tracks.
“Hello?” his voice echoed.
It seemed as if nobody was there. Damn it, I’m too late! He thought.
Then he heard a faint moaning from an upstairs room.
But it wasn’t just any room. It was the editor’s room.
“Dave,” Chris said with a sigh, as he slowly made his way toward the elevator, to head up to the 20th floor.
Dave Jansen had been in journalism for 30 years. He also started out at the Picayune when he was Chris’s age, and quickly made his way up the totem pole to the editor’s desk. No paper in the Pittsburgh area had been finer, had been run more efficiently, under his direction. But with the Internet and other media outlets taking over, it wasn’t a surprise to see several papers littered around the Pittsburgh streets.
But Chris still knew that the paper was popular. It hadn’t been completely discarded from people’s minds. In reality, it was the only paper in Pittsburgh that really received recognition.
Chris had thoughts racing through his mind as he continued to go up, up, up to the top. What do I say? What will Dave say? I have to sell myself.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he finally made it.
He slightly rapped on the door. He heard a faint noise from under the desk.
“Who…who is it? Nobody should be here; I sent a company wide e-mail to give everyone the day off.”
Chris knew it was Dave. “Dave, it’s just me. Saunders. I don’t check my e-mail in the mornings.”
Dave slowly popped his head up. “Oh, Chris. Well, you should start.”
Chris quickly got to the point.
“Dave, you’ve been here for 30 years. I’m just starting out, but journalism is my life. I love this building. I love this town. I love my desk-“
“Spare me the details, Saunders!” Dave screamed so that the entire floor could hear.
Chris quickly shut his mouth.
Dave took a deep breath and sighed. “Look, Saunders. We’ve done all we can. All our other reporters are telling me day after day they’re running out of story ideas and that we can’t compete with the other media anymore. Pretty soon, it’s going to be advertisements on every page. It’s over, okay? I can’t drag a newspaper in the dirt like this.”
Chris understood how Dave felt. But he had to think of something to be a savior.
“But sir, people still subscribe. They still read it. We’re still the most read paper in Pittsburgh.”
Dave looked hard into Chris’s eyes. “Saunders, we’re the ONLY read paper in Pittsburgh! And our subscriber number is dwindling! And have you noticed all the litter on the streets? That’s OUR work being thrown out for no reason!”
Chris knew the situation was becoming really dire. He knew that he couldn’t convince Dave unless he really threw him a curveball.
“Face it, Saunders. It’s over. I’m selling the building to a condo company in two weeks and we’re shutting down then. For now, we’ll just be putting in reruns of our best stories. Find a new job, move, something. I don’t want to take you down with me. You’re such a hard worker.”
Chris knew this was his chance.
“Then why don’t I try and find a story to save us?”
Dave stared, then chuckled, then busted out laughing. He even shed some tears.
“Seriously, Saunders? You? Not that I don’t have any faith in you, but I just can’t imagine a 21-year-old like yourself picking some random place, finding a random story, and getting enough people interested to make profit and save our paper.”
“What do I have to lose? This is my life, your life, the paper’s life, and the information that our city needs’ life at stake here. Do you really want condos taking over the lifebreath of our medium?”
Dave shook his head. Chris’s face moved closer so it almost met Dave’s.
“Then, sir, I will do whatever I have to ensure that this paper stays intact.”
Dave knew there was no other option. He knew he couldn’t make Chris change his mind now.
Dave sighed again. “Alright, Saunders. I’ll give you the two weeks to find something juicy, report it, write it, and print it. But you’ve got to do it all by yourself since no one else will be allowed in here during that time.”
Chris could figure out how to run everything else. He was a quick learner, after all.
“Yes, sir,” Chris said. “Thank you, sir.”
Chris began to walk out and head toward the elevators, down to his office on the 10th floor.
Dave stopped him. “Saunders?”
“Yes, Dave?”
“If you pull this off, not only will you earn a promotion and a raise, but you will earn the respect of me and the entire city of Pittsburgh.” Dave saluted him. “Good luck, son.”
Chris smiled. His mission had begun, and there was no turning back now.
Chris and the Ottsel: Chapter 1
My novel is a slightly fantasy, slightly real story about a young journalist beginning to live his dream as a writer for the Pittsburgh Picayune, and how first he must save it, then save himself from the tribulations of having a character from another world thrust into his life. He's been at the paper for 3 years and is trying to make his way up, but it's hard since he lost the love of his life in a car crash. Then one day, he discovers that the paper is on its last legs and may go under. Feeling that he is the only hope, he convinces his boss to let him be the savior. His adventure takes him to a remote, bustling city on an island he's never heard of. What will happen there? Will the young journalist save the paper? And just who is this character from another world? You'll have to read to find out...
Chapter 1: The Morning
“GOOD…MORNING, PITTSBURGH!!!”
“Ow!”
Chris Saunders banged his head on the empty bed above him as his bedside alarm went off, to the not-so-soothing talk radio station he had put on every morning since…well, the unfortunate accident.
“Gosh dang alarm. Oh well, it gets me up every morning,” he said with a sigh as he stretched and pulled the sheets off, not making his bed.
He had never made his bed again after what had happened. It was too hard for him to have a normal routine, a normal sense of feeling, and even somewhat of a normal life since what happened three years ago.
Three years ago, Chris and his girlfriend, Loretta, had somewhat of a wild and crazy night when Chris finally graduated from high school.
Chris had received his degree in journalism, something he had always strived for. He loved writing and the passion he felt when he wrote. He had actually met Loretta during his sophomore year, as he moved up on the newspaper staff’s totem pole. He was now the sports editor; Loretta was the paper’s manager.
Loretta always welcomed Chris every day with, “There he is, Mr. Writer Extraordinare.” Chris loved Loretta’s sense of humor; it was just as good as his own, if not better.
Eventually, the two would become co-managers during Chris’s senior year. They always would bounce ideas off of each other and a great story would develop and follow, then the whole student body would see it the next day. The two would get their share of amazing compliments, and they always took them in stride.
But the night that Chris Saunders just could never forget was that night. Loretta decided to pop open some champagne to celebrate and have a “night on the town”. Chris didn’t know what that meant, so he went.
And Loretta drove.
And they had a terrible crash where the car flipped multiple times.
And somehow, Chris’s life was spared with only minor cuts and bruises, while Loretta was instantly dead.
“Loretta…God, how I miss you,” Chris said as he ended his flashback. He hated doing it every morning, but that was the way it was as the talk radio blared the morning news.
Like he needed to know anyway – he was a reporter!
Somehow, Chris had managed to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart and earn a job at the Pittsburgh Picayune, the most popular paper in the city. They had seen Chris’s work on the school paper before and were very impressed by his abilities. But Chris had remained in the same house, slept in the same bed, and had the same clock go off since Loretta had died. He felt he couldn’t get rid of them, because if he did, he would feel like he was throwing her away altogether. He couldn’t do that.
Chris got dressed, brushed his teeth, and got himself ready for work when a phrase on the radio caught his attention.
“…the newspaper media industry may take a huge hit. There is talk that the Picayune may be shut down due to lack of interest and stories.”
Chris accidentally swallowed his toothpaste and saliva mix, looked into the mirror and screamed, “WHAT???”
This job was all Chris had now. He had dealt for three years with losing the love of his life; he could not bear the stress of having to lose his pride and joy passion – writing.
Chris flew out the door, realized he had forgotten his briefcase, went back in, grabbed it, and then left in a rush, running past people with looks on their faces as if to say, “You’re through, Saunders.”
He couldn’t let that happen. Not this time.
Chapter 1: The Morning
“GOOD…MORNING, PITTSBURGH!!!”
“Ow!”
Chris Saunders banged his head on the empty bed above him as his bedside alarm went off, to the not-so-soothing talk radio station he had put on every morning since…well, the unfortunate accident.
“Gosh dang alarm. Oh well, it gets me up every morning,” he said with a sigh as he stretched and pulled the sheets off, not making his bed.
He had never made his bed again after what had happened. It was too hard for him to have a normal routine, a normal sense of feeling, and even somewhat of a normal life since what happened three years ago.
Three years ago, Chris and his girlfriend, Loretta, had somewhat of a wild and crazy night when Chris finally graduated from high school.
Chris had received his degree in journalism, something he had always strived for. He loved writing and the passion he felt when he wrote. He had actually met Loretta during his sophomore year, as he moved up on the newspaper staff’s totem pole. He was now the sports editor; Loretta was the paper’s manager.
Loretta always welcomed Chris every day with, “There he is, Mr. Writer Extraordinare.” Chris loved Loretta’s sense of humor; it was just as good as his own, if not better.
Eventually, the two would become co-managers during Chris’s senior year. They always would bounce ideas off of each other and a great story would develop and follow, then the whole student body would see it the next day. The two would get their share of amazing compliments, and they always took them in stride.
But the night that Chris Saunders just could never forget was that night. Loretta decided to pop open some champagne to celebrate and have a “night on the town”. Chris didn’t know what that meant, so he went.
And Loretta drove.
And they had a terrible crash where the car flipped multiple times.
And somehow, Chris’s life was spared with only minor cuts and bruises, while Loretta was instantly dead.
“Loretta…God, how I miss you,” Chris said as he ended his flashback. He hated doing it every morning, but that was the way it was as the talk radio blared the morning news.
Like he needed to know anyway – he was a reporter!
Somehow, Chris had managed to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart and earn a job at the Pittsburgh Picayune, the most popular paper in the city. They had seen Chris’s work on the school paper before and were very impressed by his abilities. But Chris had remained in the same house, slept in the same bed, and had the same clock go off since Loretta had died. He felt he couldn’t get rid of them, because if he did, he would feel like he was throwing her away altogether. He couldn’t do that.
Chris got dressed, brushed his teeth, and got himself ready for work when a phrase on the radio caught his attention.
“…the newspaper media industry may take a huge hit. There is talk that the Picayune may be shut down due to lack of interest and stories.”
Chris accidentally swallowed his toothpaste and saliva mix, looked into the mirror and screamed, “WHAT???”
This job was all Chris had now. He had dealt for three years with losing the love of his life; he could not bear the stress of having to lose his pride and joy passion – writing.
Chris flew out the door, realized he had forgotten his briefcase, went back in, grabbed it, and then left in a rush, running past people with looks on their faces as if to say, “You’re through, Saunders.”
He couldn’t let that happen. Not this time.
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