Okay, my first DCC. Coming from a non-professional tournament-observer’s perspective … the event was simply astounding. For the first time, I got to see Efren, Gorst, Filler, T-Rex, SVB, Shaw, Alex, and so many others — in-person, in-action.
Even though my visit was truncated at both ends because of business and personal reasons, this mini-adventure was still a noob’s delight. (I avoided some of the peripheral unpleasantness because I stayed in Louisville at the Seelbach, where my family bunks in for that other Derby. And, I contracted with a Lyft driver for the duration.
Despite food warnings from several Derby veterans, I did find myself in the society of a slab of cheesecake from The Grill. Should a need for an industrial doorstop ever arise … Oh, a culinary tip — stock up on country ham-and-cheese sandwiches with spicy mustard from Morris Deli & Liquors in Louisville.)
I left the Derby with a kaleidoscope of impressions —
> Efren, smiling, playing chess in the casino.
> A young pool player gobbling Skittles between his turns on the TV Table.
> The intricate architecture of scaffolding, lighting, and cameras in that TV Room. Especially the over-table lighting.
> A long line of mostly-older players and spectators waiting to register — were they examples of a misspent or a well-spent youth?
> A striking young blonde girl, in a black, bare-midriff outfit, besting a serious-looking dude at 9-ball.
> The pool-savvy that many of those spectators seemed to possess as I eavesdropped on their ongoing commentaries.
> The friendliness of the equipment and teeshirt vendors. And of the Diamond/Accu-Stats gang.
> The mesmerizing view from the mezzanine, looking down at an orderly mosaic of lovely green felt.
> The ‘No Gambling’ sign upstairs at Caesars.
> The general camaraderie of the spectators.
> The fluid grace and quiet stateliness of Fedor Gorst.
Yeah, I’m hip to the numerous, and justified, complaints about this year’s event. But for my first-ever tournament experience, it was a glorious treat.
Sunny
Postscriptum: Here’s a meager suggestion to help alleviate some of the food angst. There are a few private homes along the road from New Albany to the casino. Perhaps an entrepreneurial sort could offer roadside vittles — burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, etc. Or, she could host food trucks. Or both.
The location could be within half a mile or so of the action. Maybe a private shuttle van could ferry hungry passengers back and forth from the hotel to the fixins. Or, that private van could do deliveries.
Inelegant? Yep. Inconvenient? Of course. Inexpedient? Naturally.
Viva la Derby!
Even though my visit was truncated at both ends because of business and personal reasons, this mini-adventure was still a noob’s delight. (I avoided some of the peripheral unpleasantness because I stayed in Louisville at the Seelbach, where my family bunks in for that other Derby. And, I contracted with a Lyft driver for the duration.
Despite food warnings from several Derby veterans, I did find myself in the society of a slab of cheesecake from The Grill. Should a need for an industrial doorstop ever arise … Oh, a culinary tip — stock up on country ham-and-cheese sandwiches with spicy mustard from Morris Deli & Liquors in Louisville.)
I left the Derby with a kaleidoscope of impressions —
> Efren, smiling, playing chess in the casino.
> A young pool player gobbling Skittles between his turns on the TV Table.
> The intricate architecture of scaffolding, lighting, and cameras in that TV Room. Especially the over-table lighting.
> A long line of mostly-older players and spectators waiting to register — were they examples of a misspent or a well-spent youth?
> A striking young blonde girl, in a black, bare-midriff outfit, besting a serious-looking dude at 9-ball.
> The pool-savvy that many of those spectators seemed to possess as I eavesdropped on their ongoing commentaries.
> The friendliness of the equipment and teeshirt vendors. And of the Diamond/Accu-Stats gang.
> The mesmerizing view from the mezzanine, looking down at an orderly mosaic of lovely green felt.
> The ‘No Gambling’ sign upstairs at Caesars.
> The general camaraderie of the spectators.
> The fluid grace and quiet stateliness of Fedor Gorst.
Yeah, I’m hip to the numerous, and justified, complaints about this year’s event. But for my first-ever tournament experience, it was a glorious treat.
Sunny
Postscriptum: Here’s a meager suggestion to help alleviate some of the food angst. There are a few private homes along the road from New Albany to the casino. Perhaps an entrepreneurial sort could offer roadside vittles — burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, etc. Or, she could host food trucks. Or both.
The location could be within half a mile or so of the action. Maybe a private shuttle van could ferry hungry passengers back and forth from the hotel to the fixins. Or, that private van could do deliveries.
Inelegant? Yep. Inconvenient? Of course. Inexpedient? Naturally.
Viva la Derby!
