OCMS/Little Grill

Last night Lindsey and I went to probably our favorite place to eat in our area, the Little Grill Collective ("If it was in Staunton, we'd be in trouble" ~ Lindsey). It's about a half hour away in Harrisonburg, VA. It's worker owned and very vegetarian/vegan friendly. AND it's delicious. Everybody wins.

Like many restaurants, Little Grill has pictures of the more notable people who have passed through. Last night we noticed that bluegrass heavyweights Old Crow Medicine Show come through from time to time. Their picture was signed "Little Grill is home sweet home eternal." Our waitress said that they apparently had some of their first shows at Little Grill open mic nights.

Awesome.

"Philly."

I'd been looking for a weekly free bar poker game to get into in Staunton. I found one just a couple blocks from my apartment at Downtown at the Clocktower. Last week was the first time I ventured down to play. I walked in and it was real obvious that I was the new kid from out of town. I hadn't played in a bar game in a while, which made it a short stay (I was back home in just over an hour), so going into the game 2 nights ago I was hoping to have a more respectable showing.

One of the main differences in games down here is that people pick where they sit. I chose the friendliest-looking table (the only one with people smiling) to both help my comfort level in a new place and because I figured it'd be slightly easier to play there. My old friend Jonny Rashid would often say that you're there to win and that being nice is an inhibition in poker.

They also deal until they get an Ace to determine the dealer instead of high-carding. This often leads to almost 4 laps around the table.

So the first hand is dealt and I get K-Q offsuit. I see the flop and it comes out K-8-K. Trip-Kings is not too shabby for an opening hand. People like to check down here, so I check to try to get a feel for the situation. The turn comes out a 10. I bet. people fold around until the woman before me goes all-in. I start mulling over the possibilities. I assume she has a King. She would need a 10 or an Ace to beat me. I call. We flip cards and she has K-J. Not bad for a first hand.

Play goes on and before I know it we're down to 2 of 4 tables left and I'm in the middle of the pack. I get a hand of like 10-J and I consider playing it until a guy at the end of the table makes a fairly large bet. Myself and the other remaining player fold. Big-bet-guy shows us his 2-3 offsuit. After seeing the respect he'd gotten throughout the night from regular players and a play like that, I knew I was gonna have a rough time with him.

I match up against him again at the final table. I had a middle pair (like a Jack or something in the hand) and he makes another significant bet. I told him he did it before, I gotta make sure he doesn't get me again. He does, but he had the better hand this time. Him: 2 Me: 0.

I knock out two people in one hand and it sets me up against him heads up for the game. We're pretty evenly chipped (I believe he had a slight edge). I proceed to outplay him pretty fiercely - I had some help from some pocket 6s, 8s, and Aces along the way - and win the game. The new kid (they started calling me "Philly" earlier). While gathering my gift certificate to the restaurant, t-shirt, and keychain, the guy running the tournament, Chris, kind of pulls me aside and goes "you know he's the king, right? You just beat the best." I told him I knew the guy wasn't messing around. I wouldn't say I'm a better player than him, being the new guy plays to your advantage because no one knows how you play. But it certainly wasn't from pure luck, I needed a decent idea of what I was doing to win. It was a great night. I hit trip-7s a couple times (with pockets), and had quad-8s at the first table too. I played well and made few bad decisions.

I won't lie. It was and is a great feeling. I went into a totally new place all alone. I stared the king in the face after he handled me on two occasions and took him down. It was a good moment. I met Lindsey for a celebratory late Coffee on the Corner dinner and couldn't hide my smile.

We'll see how it goes next week when a bunch of folks are waiting for me.

Peace.

God's love is awesome.

I was having a pretty solid day at work today. I opened, which aside from being at the store at 5:30 in the morning, is great. You get out early and there's a steady flow of work.

At around 1:15 I shifted around a pitcher of frappucino mix. It falls on the floor and spills all over, leaving a nasty mess. I was pissed. I had to pull out the mini-fridge that it's stored in to mop underneath because the mix is going everywhere. When standing up, I hit my head on the underside of the counter. More pissed.

When this happens, my brain starts running. I start mentally kicking myself:
"You're such a waste. A 25-year-old-married-college-grad working for less than $8 an hour and you can't even put a stupid pitcher in a refrigerator."

Fortunately my lovely wife Lindsey was also working at the time and proceeded to remind me of some much needed truth: I'm a child of God and he loves me. My worth is not based on what I do for a "living," but rather on the fact that God loves me. The goal is to share that love with anyone and everyone that comes into my store every time they come in.

It was a prime example of God's love. We do something stupid, and his love is constant. He stays right there with us and reminds us of it. I mean, we still have to stand in the sticky, sugary, mess we made on the floor, which helps motivate us to not do it again. But he loves us the whole way.

Thank you Jesus.

Jeremy Roenick.

One of my all-time favorite Flyers retired on my birthday 2 days ago. Here's the nhl.tv video.

There's also a great article on The Hockey News. I remember the preseason before Roenick's first year with the Flyers. I went with Jeremy, our brothers, and Jeremy's dad to Trenton to see a game with the Flyers and Islanders. Roenick had signed that offseason, and I'd forgotten that he was now a member of my favorite team. We stood right against the bars where the players came out of the tunnel and watched them go by just about a foot from us. When I saw J.R., I yelled "Jeremy Roenick!" out of pure excitement. He was a stud player now suiting up for my team, I was stoked. I was not even trying to get his attention. He looked right at me, and with a big smile, high-fived me with his right glove without saying a word or missing a beat. From that moment he was one of my favorites.

In April (or early May) of my freshman year at Temple, the Flyers made a great playoff run that tok them within a game of the Stanley Cup Final. They played the Maple Leafs in the second round and the sixth game went to overtime. It was one of the most intense periods I've ever seen. Mad stressful too. J.R. netted the game winner and sent the Flyers to the next round. I remember my heart pounding for about 15 minute after the game. It was awesome.

I'll miss you J.R.