Mouth Musings #6: NYC Edition!
Posted: Wed Apr 03, 2013 10:28 am
So without further ado and in no particular order off the top of my head...
My apologies for the delay on this installment on this past weekend's festivities, but I am still recovering from my Shawshank-like stay at the Hotel Pennsylvania in NYC.
It's not often that when you check into a "hotel" that the warden gives you a key to your cell (I was on Block A on the 9th Floor), and warns you in the process to be careful about leaving your stuff around because there averages about TEN robberies a week in the lobby! I shit you not. Wish I was making this up. I was half expecting him to say that for a couple of cartons of smokes he'd keep the bull queers off of me during my stay. 
I have never stayed in a hotel with a painted concrete shower stall and no soap dish. Hate to admit that that old cliche of dropping the soap came into play, and I was seriously, f!@#ing afraid to pick it up.
And these "accommodations', which came with such "amenities" as a clock radio/eight-track player, a 1970's armoire, a king-size cot of bed (replete with bed bugs and plenty of stains that I don't care to know the origin of ), and an air conditioning/heating unit that was so loud, I might as well have been sleeping on the tarmac of f!@#ing Laguardia! Good thing I got time off for good behavior or...ahhhh, who the hell am I kidding...I just tied the bed sheets together and escaped out the window. Seriously had to be the worst stay for the money in any hotel I have ever stayed in (cost me more than the friggin' Bellagio for goddsakes!). Never again.
Well at least Friday night at the MTM Super went off relatively without a hitch. I say this because we were a bit delayed at start due to a few competitors who had some difficulty arriving on time for various bullshit reasons.
First of the last to arrive was Kenny "Sack" Magner. I had just seen him in the lobby a couple of hours earlier as he was checking in and getting delousing along with the rest of us, after which he said that he was going to go up to his room to rest a bit. Apparently Mr. Magner dozed off into a coma from which he was unable to be roused until just a few minutes from the start of the KDS drawing. This would later explain the team that he put together. My prediction is that there will be no second place finish for the Sarge this year in this one...However, he will again take top honors in outweighing the rest of the league, whatever that counts for. 
In this photo: A happy Sack Magner about to belly up to the draft table
Okay, sorry, Here's something to help get that image out of your heads:
In this photo: Yu Darvish's sister...he may have not been perfect last night, but damned if she's not!
Next to arrive late was the always lovable, eccentric, and completely off his rocker, Dave Deterra. Strange in that just a short while earlier he had arrived with his good buddy, Eddie Gillis, from Rhode Island who apparently gave him very specific instructions as to the whereabouts of the draft location on the 18th floor of the hotel. So Dave being Dave naturally was lost wandering the halls of the 17th floor of the establishment for half and hour with his 1960's orange, leather bowling bag in toe. Unbeknownst to the no doubt horrified inmates on that floor and to hotel security as well, it was not a bomb that this mad scientist was carrying, but very important draft paperwork and the requisite two liter bottles of generic, diet orange soda which are a must for any serious drafter. Thankfully Dave someone how found his way to us on the 18th floor only to berate his buddy Eddie on the faulty directions which were never wrong in the first place. Classic stuff that made for some good laughs, which were only surpassed when Dave proceeded to begin pouring his essential draft nectar into the Styrofoam cups and ice he had brought along from his own private stock.
In this photo: Eddie Gillis and Dave Deterra arrive at the MTM Super event
Okay, ten bucks if you knew what movie that pic was from without looking it up.
Finally making his triumphant entrance was Glenn "Cocktails and Dreams" Schroter. The excuse? Stuck in NYC traffic with an illiterate cabby who not only got him lost, but gave Glenn quite the hickey on his neck before they parted. Glenn, of course insisted it was a shaving accident (yeah right!), but I know a hickey when I see one. He could of at least used the old curling iron alibi, and all of us would have maybe believed him. NOT! He certainly lives a charmed life that Mr. Schroter. Wish I had the kind of money he has...although I wouldn't be spending it on cab driver hickeys, that's for sure!
"I swear, honey, I was just at a fantasy baseball draft with the guys last night!"
When we finally settled in, and the hardware was awarded to last year's champ (more on him in a minute), next came the fun and anticipation of the drawing of the LIVE KDS (which for the record is the way it should be for all live events). For this year I had a bucket of baseballs with each owner's name inked on them from which last year's champ drew the order. For some inexplicable reason, the first couple of names out of the bucket took spots in the middle of the draft, leaving the door open for none other than guess who to pull off his third friggin' number one live event pick this year...Mr. Steve Jupinka himself. Like he needed the help! WTF?! And of course I end up settling for the 12 hole as the third to last ball out of the bucket. Somehow I think Tom found a way to rig it like they do back at the offices of STATS to ensure that I end up at the end of every draft to keep the seven year running joke alive for their own sick, twisted amusement. 
Aside from hating my first overall pick the way things fell to me (Pujols), and maybe one other early round pick that the jury is still out on (Kipnis), I was happy with the way my team turned out especially snagging Kershaw on the turn after round one when the pitching avalanche began. How bad was it? I was snagging closers in the 15th-18th rd. Insane. For the sake of time and space, I won't bore you with how all of the picks went down, but I will say that the competition was elite as usual except for Poopy Tooth, Mike Lins, which should go without saying. Who also, may I add, arrived for the draft sporting his own version of an old school Richard Pryor, free-base cocaine accident of a burnt nose from what I think he said was some sore of bizarre fondue accident. Not really sure because I ended up sitting next to him for the draft, and was only pretending to listen to what he was saying to me the entire night.
In this photo: Fondue, the bane of Poopy Tooth
When it was all over, a bunch of us who could hang around late, hit the steak house for a little late night, post draft celebration. Eddie Gillis was on the fence about attending until he found out it was on me, at which point he proceeded to eat just about everything on the menu. I can't be sure, but I think he had Deterra's old cooler under the table and was also stashing stuff for later.
Kent "Chest Rockwell" Stermon was there. Nice guy who I met for the first time ever. The first thing he did when I shook his hand was to smirk and immediately make comparisons of me to The Magnificent Muraco of old WWF fame. Quite frankly, I don't see the resemblance, and needless to say, Stermon paid the price for his insolent comments.
In this photo: Kent receives an arm bar from yours truly
Others notable NFBC competitors attendance who I got to know a little more about were:
Marc Perlmutter: Last year's champ, who spent the night discussing his undergraduate work at Brown University, his Harvard Law degree, and how he was staying at his place on the Upper West Side because apparently he did not want to condescend to stay with the rest us peons at Hotel Shawshank Pennsylvania for the night. Interesting how guys like this make you feel stupid in about five minutes of conversation. But at least we're all pretty certain it was luck, not intelligence that led him to a title last year, so a repeat is about as likely as me going back to school for an Ivy League degree in Gynecology.
John Lemke: An enigmatic guy who at least clarified more about himself over dinner. Apparently, he is a full time professional gambler, and not a serial killer who keeps young women he kidnaps in a pit in his basement as we had all suspected. At least we cleared that point up, and now know that we can all trust John, the friendly neighborhood Grifter that he is.
Roy Ericson: Somehow the Ice Cream Man was unable to juggle an auction and the MTM Super draft at the same time, so he had to bow out this year. However, that didn't stop him from weaseling in for free meal along with the rest of us. It didn't matter, we needed someone at the table who was loud and uncouth to offset some of the class of the other competitors in attendance.
Ante Meich: Unlike Roy, Mr. Rotties was able to pull off the feat of managing an auction and the MTM Super at the same time! He did this by having some NFBC groupie chick sit in for him who was much more easy on the eyes than Ante who finally showed around round 20. He joined us for a hearty dinner, which is good, because the new solitary confinement diet he's been on has left him looking like a shorter version of Willem Dafoe.
In this photo: Ante Meich all dolled up for dinner after the MTM Super (okay, okay, he didn't have on any make-up that night)
Joe "Showtime" Thelen: Great to have Joe join us for dinner after having one foot in the grave and one on the banana peel last year. Found out in Joe, that we had another genius in our midst (a PHD in Engineering), who is now rotting his mind in retirement along with rest of us playing this crazy, obsessive game that we're all addicted to. Joe confided in me that he was happy to see that I had turned my old age jokes away from him and on to Donn Johnson while I was out in Vegas. Although I was concerned that all the stress of this competition would not be good for his heart, and suggested that he try something more his speed for people his age.
And one last thing, I had the pleasure of being introduced by Steve Jupinka to his brother Lee who I drafted next to in the Main Event then next day. All I can say is good looks obviously do not run in that family.
Hope you enjoyed this latest installment. Back soon with more in-season musings. Post your comments, criticisms, etc.
-MTM
My apologies for the delay on this installment on this past weekend's festivities, but I am still recovering from my Shawshank-like stay at the Hotel Pennsylvania in NYC.
It's not often that when you check into a "hotel" that the warden gives you a key to your cell (I was on Block A on the 9th Floor), and warns you in the process to be careful about leaving your stuff around because there averages about TEN robberies a week in the lobby! I shit you not. Wish I was making this up. I was half expecting him to say that for a couple of cartons of smokes he'd keep the bull queers off of me during my stay. I have never stayed in a hotel with a painted concrete shower stall and no soap dish. Hate to admit that that old cliche of dropping the soap came into play, and I was seriously, f!@#ing afraid to pick it up.
And these "accommodations', which came with such "amenities" as a clock radio/eight-track player, a 1970's armoire, a king-size cot of bed (replete with bed bugs and plenty of stains that I don't care to know the origin of ), and an air conditioning/heating unit that was so loud, I might as well have been sleeping on the tarmac of f!@#ing Laguardia! Good thing I got time off for good behavior or...ahhhh, who the hell am I kidding...I just tied the bed sheets together and escaped out the window. Seriously had to be the worst stay for the money in any hotel I have ever stayed in (cost me more than the friggin' Bellagio for goddsakes!). Never again.Well at least Friday night at the MTM Super went off relatively without a hitch. I say this because we were a bit delayed at start due to a few competitors who had some difficulty arriving on time for various bullshit reasons.
First of the last to arrive was Kenny "Sack" Magner. I had just seen him in the lobby a couple of hours earlier as he was checking in and getting delousing along with the rest of us, after which he said that he was going to go up to his room to rest a bit. Apparently Mr. Magner dozed off into a coma from which he was unable to be roused until just a few minutes from the start of the KDS drawing. This would later explain the team that he put together. My prediction is that there will be no second place finish for the Sarge this year in this one...However, he will again take top honors in outweighing the rest of the league, whatever that counts for.
In this photo: A happy Sack Magner about to belly up to the draft table
Okay, sorry, Here's something to help get that image out of your heads:
In this photo: Yu Darvish's sister...he may have not been perfect last night, but damned if she's not!
Next to arrive late was the always lovable, eccentric, and completely off his rocker, Dave Deterra. Strange in that just a short while earlier he had arrived with his good buddy, Eddie Gillis, from Rhode Island who apparently gave him very specific instructions as to the whereabouts of the draft location on the 18th floor of the hotel. So Dave being Dave naturally was lost wandering the halls of the 17th floor of the establishment for half and hour with his 1960's orange, leather bowling bag in toe. Unbeknownst to the no doubt horrified inmates on that floor and to hotel security as well, it was not a bomb that this mad scientist was carrying, but very important draft paperwork and the requisite two liter bottles of generic, diet orange soda which are a must for any serious drafter.
Thankfully Dave someone how found his way to us on the 18th floor only to berate his buddy Eddie on the faulty directions which were never wrong in the first place. Classic stuff that made for some good laughs, which were only surpassed when Dave proceeded to begin pouring his essential draft nectar into the Styrofoam cups and ice he had brought along from his own private stock. In this photo: Eddie Gillis and Dave Deterra arrive at the MTM Super event
Okay, ten bucks if you knew what movie that pic was from without looking it up.
Finally making his triumphant entrance was Glenn "Cocktails and Dreams" Schroter. The excuse? Stuck in NYC traffic with an illiterate cabby who not only got him lost, but gave Glenn quite the hickey on his neck before they parted. Glenn, of course insisted it was a shaving accident (yeah right!), but I know a hickey when I see one. He could of at least used the old curling iron alibi, and all of us would have maybe believed him. NOT! He certainly lives a charmed life that Mr. Schroter. Wish I had the kind of money he has...although I wouldn't be spending it on cab driver hickeys, that's for sure!
"I swear, honey, I was just at a fantasy baseball draft with the guys last night!"
When we finally settled in, and the hardware was awarded to last year's champ (more on him in a minute), next came the fun and anticipation of the drawing of the LIVE KDS (which for the record is the way it should be for all live events). For this year I had a bucket of baseballs with each owner's name inked on them from which last year's champ drew the order. For some inexplicable reason, the first couple of names out of the bucket took spots in the middle of the draft, leaving the door open for none other than guess who to pull off his third friggin' number one live event pick this year...Mr. Steve Jupinka himself.
Like he needed the help! WTF?! And of course I end up settling for the 12 hole as the third to last ball out of the bucket. Somehow I think Tom found a way to rig it like they do back at the offices of STATS to ensure that I end up at the end of every draft to keep the seven year running joke alive for their own sick, twisted amusement. Aside from hating my first overall pick the way things fell to me (Pujols), and maybe one other early round pick that the jury is still out on (Kipnis), I was happy with the way my team turned out especially snagging Kershaw on the turn after round one when the pitching avalanche began. How bad was it? I was snagging closers in the 15th-18th rd. Insane. For the sake of time and space, I won't bore you with how all of the picks went down, but I will say that the competition was elite as usual except for Poopy Tooth, Mike Lins, which should go without saying. Who also, may I add, arrived for the draft sporting his own version of an old school Richard Pryor, free-base cocaine accident of a burnt nose from what I think he said was some sore of bizarre fondue accident. Not really sure because I ended up sitting next to him for the draft, and was only pretending to listen to what he was saying to me the entire night.
In this photo: Fondue, the bane of Poopy Tooth
When it was all over, a bunch of us who could hang around late, hit the steak house for a little late night, post draft celebration. Eddie Gillis was on the fence about attending until he found out it was on me, at which point he proceeded to eat just about everything on the menu. I can't be sure, but I think he had Deterra's old cooler under the table and was also stashing stuff for later.
Kent "Chest Rockwell" Stermon was there. Nice guy who I met for the first time ever. The first thing he did when I shook his hand was to smirk and immediately make comparisons of me to The Magnificent Muraco of old WWF fame.
Quite frankly, I don't see the resemblance, and needless to say, Stermon paid the price for his insolent comments.In this photo: Kent receives an arm bar from yours truly
Others notable NFBC competitors attendance who I got to know a little more about were:
Marc Perlmutter: Last year's champ, who spent the night discussing his undergraduate work at Brown University, his Harvard Law degree, and how he was staying at his place on the Upper West Side because apparently he did not want to condescend to stay with the rest us peons at Hotel Shawshank Pennsylvania for the night. Interesting how guys like this make you feel stupid in about five minutes of conversation. But at least we're all pretty certain it was luck, not intelligence that led him to a title last year, so a repeat is about as likely as me going back to school for an Ivy League degree in Gynecology. John Lemke: An enigmatic guy who at least clarified more about himself over dinner. Apparently, he is a full time professional gambler, and not a serial killer who keeps young women he kidnaps in a pit in his basement as we had all suspected. At least we cleared that point up, and now know that we can all trust John, the friendly neighborhood Grifter that he is. Roy Ericson: Somehow the Ice Cream Man was unable to juggle an auction and the MTM Super draft at the same time, so he had to bow out this year. However, that didn't stop him from weaseling in for free meal along with the rest of us. It didn't matter, we needed someone at the table who was loud and uncouth to offset some of the class of the other competitors in attendance. Ante Meich: Unlike Roy, Mr. Rotties was able to pull off the feat of managing an auction and the MTM Super at the same time! He did this by having some NFBC groupie chick sit in for him who was much more easy on the eyes than Ante who finally showed around round 20. He joined us for a hearty dinner, which is good, because the new solitary confinement diet he's been on has left him looking like a shorter version of Willem Dafoe. In this photo: Ante Meich all dolled up for dinner after the MTM Super (okay, okay, he didn't have on any make-up that night)
Joe "Showtime" Thelen: Great to have Joe join us for dinner after having one foot in the grave and one on the banana peel last year. Found out in Joe, that we had another genius in our midst (a PHD in Engineering), who is now rotting his mind in retirement along with rest of us playing this crazy, obsessive game that we're all addicted to. Joe confided in me that he was happy to see that I had turned my old age jokes away from him and on to Donn Johnson while I was out in Vegas. Although I was concerned that all the stress of this competition would not be good for his heart, and suggested that he try something more his speed for people his age. And one last thing, I had the pleasure of being introduced by Steve Jupinka to his brother Lee who I drafted next to in the Main Event then next day. All I can say is good looks obviously do not run in that family.
Hope you enjoyed this latest installment. Back soon with more in-season musings. Post your comments, criticisms, etc.
-MTM
Always nice to here positive feedback from someone you roasted so thoroughly on this thread. 
