It’s a short column today. By the time you read this, I’ll probably be on the road to Cleveland.
The current plan is to play in the Grand Prix Trial the night before the event, try to grab some byes. Chances are fair that I won’t be able to get those byes, but I have to try. The eternal drive for the Tour is a tough jones to kick. Haven’t you heard? We’re all pushing a boulder up a hill, kohei – and before the end of the road, we all swing eventually. The gallows, that eternal school of Magic hard knocks, spares no man.
Oh, I don’t know precisely how I’m going to hang myself (figuratively speaking) at this event, but I’m sure I’ll find out with, as they say, the quickness. It might be keeping the wrong land or the wrong hand or making the wrong play, I might get a game loss for something stupid like drawing extra cards (GP Detroit, Day 2) or taking inappropriate notes (Canadian Nationals), or I could forget to de-sideboard (numerous times). Maybe I’ll be late for a match because I caught the equipment in the zipper in my haste to make it back from the urinal.
Failing that, I might just get smoked for land like Andystok did in Round 1 vs. Brian David-Marshall in the latest installment of”Walking To Houston.”
Even if I don’t get the byes, I hold as an incantation against these unfortunate possibilities the fact that I made Day 2 at GP Detroit (at that time the largest North American Grand Prix ever) without any byes, and won the second amateur prize of $1000. That was Invasion Block limited. For some reason, I’m not nearly as confident about my ability to repeat that accomplishment when the format is OBC. I can’t shake the feeling that any good finish is going to require tremendous luck as well as excellent play. I can provide the second half of that equation, as long as I’m on my game… But luck can only be portioned out by the cosmos.
The cosmos are sometimes stingy. When they handed out luck back at the place where I also picked up my soul, I must have been off dropping a deuce, because I don’t think I got all of it.
Anyhow, more uncertain whining is not the point of this short article. I just wanted to tell everyone out there in computerland that it’s perfectly fine to come up and say hello to me during the Grand Prix. In fact, I encourage it. To that end, here’s a quick primer on how to track down the author of”The Daily Shot.”
Guide To Finding Geordie At Grand Prix Cleveland:
If you want to track down the elusive internet writer, a species rarely seen outside of the nest (or,”basement”), you need to get the lowdown on the habits and appearance of said target.
Geordie is 5’7″, 160 lbs., white (or”Caucasian,” if you prefer), and 22 years of age. He has black hair. Geordie will probably be wearing his”Canadian Nationals Competitor” T-Shirt, and don’t forget to look for the glasses – they look just like the ones that chaos theorist Ian Malcolm wore in”Jurassic Park.” Geordie has blue”Tommy Hilfiger” sneakers with the edges stained green from repeated lawnmowing duty.
There’s a fair chance that Geordie will be wearing shorts. If he is, look for a duo of pasty-white knees/calves with a complete lack of a tan- the legs of a man who only goes outside by accident. There will probably be about a hundred people fitting this description, but it can help you narrow the field down.
A quick way to attract Geordie is to stand on a chair and yell, “I need someone to do match coverage; first one to volunteer gets a free cheeseburger!”
Another good way to attract Geordie is to yell, “Hey, there’s Wakefield!” This will doubtless attract many people – but the person who comes running looking to punch Jamie in the face will be me.
If you’re looking to find Geordie in his natural habitat, check the bottom tables for people who look like they want to climb a bell tower and commit some sort of homicide. Anyone having fun just playing Magic is automatically disqualified from your search. Try to concentrate on the guys who are grouchy, banging their hands on the table, swearing, and generally acting like little babies.
Check the dealers tables for people trying to sell crappy cards. Geordie is a student/freelance writer who has almost no income, and you can bet he’ll be pestering dealers as soon as he runs out of money to pay for the $15 hamburgers at the convention centre.
Find Josh Bennett and ask him if he knows”Geordie, from Canada.” All us Canadians know each other. I think I might have wrestled a polar bear with OMC, or shared an igloo with him at one time or another.
Oh, and I’ll be wearing my nametag. I think.
Anyhow, there’s your guide to finding Geordie. It’s like”Where’s Waldo?”, except Waldo is more popular with the ladies. See you there, gamers. Don’t be afraid to say”hi.”