This week: Long Island in the house, yall! The night begins with a Mr. Magoo level of focus. We’re graced with an uncommonly lovely visitor. We eat broccoli and cookies, not necessarily in that order. Music is played. Plants are burned. A good time is had by most.
Dig it.
(Game Day: September 8, 2025)
“FREED AT LAST!”
Yes, it’s been what the kids these days call “a minute.” But it’s never too late. This is an account of the latest chapter of the EBPG, even though there have been two games in between this and the last chapter. The dates of the previous gatherings don’t really matter. After all, we’re timeless. Also, I forgot them. But in the first game, we got a visit from Cockman’s ladyfriend… girlfriend? case worker? It’s hard to say, really. Her name is Patricia, and the fact that she had the confidence to visit our motley crew in our natural habitat is just the tip of her very personable iceberg. And yes, I realize the iceberg metaphor doesn’t really work, but my delete key is giving me trouble, so I’ll just keep on typing, thank you very much.
Suffice to say the summer was a little slow for the EBPG and details are foggy, or, as they say in San Francisco, normal. Which brings us to this past Monday when not only did the regular crew shuffle in, but, lo and behold, we were joined by the one and only Dave Freed, aka – the Ghost of EBPG’s past.
Dave (middle, with the halo, of the Long Island Freeds) brought his hide and his hair, which is good because we had seen neither for a long time.
Notice how I cleverly covered my side of the table so as to not remind everyone where all their chips* were. ;)
*Cash, that is. Red, blue, white, green, and black gold. Texas Hold ’em tea.
The game started at 6:30. Might seem a bit early, but we ain’t 50 anymore!
Freed, Eddie, Joe, Hank, Matt, and moi truly started with the customary round of Dollar Bob, more commonly known as Omaha. We do this mainly to get in the groove without having to choose different games, just to get everything rolling.
It didn’t work.
Collectively we had the attention span of a group of feral cats at a three hour lecture on estate taxes.
Matt dealt first, but since he screwed it up, I guess technically he also dealt second.
Hank swept the first hand, a welcome-back gift after undergoing aortic valve replacement surgery a couple weeks earlier. I’d like to say it sounds worse than it is, but it’s fucking heart surgery! So, we’re all happy to see Hank back at the table, though I could have done without his constant taunting about how the rest of us all have shitty “used” aortic valves.
Freed usually brings food, but he just ordered it this time – pizza, wings, and… broccoli? Yes, apparently the pizza place near me has a side of broccoli on their menu. And against most odds, it was delicious. Cockman brought his usual: a dozen cookies from Insomnia. We had to balance out the broccoli with somethin’.
We smoked the weed that killed you know who.
Yeah, you know who.
Collateral damage. It’s all just part of maintaining our basic rights, don’t ya know.
Music started a bit late, and only after multiple reminders from the table to, quote, “turn on some fucking music already!” I was in charge of the ear fun, so it got rocky fast with tracks like “Dream Police” by Cheap Trick and “Girl Gone Bad” by Van Halen. Maybe not everybody’s cup of tea, but I was serving the tea, so just shut up and drink it… with all due respect, of course.
We were honored once again with the presence of the aforementioned “personable iceberg,” Patricia. She even brought chicken strips and fries from the Nathan’s near her work.
“What? No broccoli?” said none of us.
Cockman was understandably distracted by his chéri amour and proceeded to go on a losing streak that he complained about bitterly and frequently.
Cockman: “How dare you all make me look bad in front of my girlfriend!”
Us: “We’re pretty sure she ain’t datin’ you for your money.”
Hand ‘o Tha Night
I can’t remember what game we were playing, but it didn’t matter. Hank ended up with four 9’s right there in plain site for everyone to see. This explains the look on Matt’s face, but doesn’t go a long way in explaining why he was still in the hand.
THE SHOWDOWNS
(Small: 5 cards, all up. Big: 7 cards, all up)
SMALL: Hank won the small with cards that were better than everybody else’s.
BIG: I didn’t scribble it in my notes, but I believe it was Joe who took this one down with a straight over Eddie’s two pair.
We will play again someday soon, my friends. And when we do, it will be glorious, as usual.
Peace!
