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Well,the dream of every kid in the Western Hemisphere is over for another year. It always hits me that the months of slogging through giant chores, making our parents proud with grades that we know we could probably have improved upon and coming around to doing all those things we should have done the first time we were asked... wait, I am talking about me! Yes, Christmas is over. And while the kids regret the slow turn into the cold winter months (unless it means a day off because of snow,) we parents enjoy a few minutes of quiet at the end of the busy season. But not long! Ahead in my future are the colorful lights of a city in the desert, calling to me. OH WAKE UP! We are talking about the ultimate Christmas present: a trip to the greatest party city in the west at the beginning of the coldest part of our winter. There is conflict here: we didn't want the holidays to end, but we need to get out of town. Less than a week divides us from the best show in Las Vegas. Pitch on folks, the King of Cornhole and the National Championship are here!

Notes from the Field, January 2010: The Sleigh Ride to Vegas.

Dateline: Milford, OH- American Legion Post 450 is not the busiest place in the world on a Monday Night, but there is Cornhole to be had. Amongst the memories of Christmas decorations and a last drought of egg nog, it's in the background to the normal play going on. Almost everyone here is talking prep for the big week at the end of January when we will pack up the supply van and head for the city of lights. Nevada calls at this point like a movie star and we start looking at it like a paparazzo stalker, remembering a great holiday.

I am not often one who looks forward past the holidays. A relative of mine counts it down and past like he is marking numbers in an appointment ledger. And while I am still not there, I am feeling amused and excited. I finally have something to look forward to in Winter besides the Super Bowl. The ACO Nationals, the King of Cornhole, is a plane ride away next week. Before I get there, I need to hit Dallas.

I am not talking about a lay over in Texas. Dallas is the name of one of the guys who routinely kicks my butt up and down a cornhole court on Mondays. He has been a kind of an adjunct coach, serving as my sounding board and informant regarding this game. Since my getting involved in the Monday night show, Dallas has been a great example of how much fun this game can be. He is also not afraid to let someone know how competitive he is. Certain I had improved enough to give him game this week, I was looking forward to at least competing with him tonight. Unbeknownst to Dallas, I had been studying his game. And I had indeed found a weakness.

Competitors in any game look for the edge, and I had indeed found a weak spot in Dallas. Watching carefully every week for the last several, I had observed Dallas' shot is usually a “slider;” the practice of hitting the board mid-range and letting the the shot slide up the board into the hole. Don't put a bag behind the hole on the board, or you have given Dallas the game. He uses it as a backstop, dropping them into the hole every time. Put one in front of the hole, and you have become his worst enemy. Of the folks I have watched play Dallas, this move seemed the best course of action. I even discussed it with another player who had battled Dallas in the Monday tourneys. Armed with this knowledge, I readied myself before Dallas arrived, targeting the bottom of the board to turn the tide of the game to me. If I could keep the bags at least on the board, if not in the hole, I would fare better. But another player, Jack Stagge, also warned me about one more thing... Dallas always seems to find a way. While not officially ranked, Dallas has a habit of scaring even the best ranked players in the league. I needed to be careful.

And so I called him out first thing, before the tournament of the night started. Dallas was happy to oblige, offering me the start of the game. My first salvos were weak, but my strategy was standing firm on the shot. And so I launched my attack, dropping a wall of 2 bags on the lower end of the hole. I completely blocked access to the hole via a sliding shot. The only way to drop past the log jam I created, would be an air mail shot. For those not familiar with this shot, an Air Mail is the equivalent of a “swish” in Basketball. Air Mail shots drop through the hole in the board and land with a pretty impressive “thunk,” especially on the wood floor we are playing on here at Post 450. I had him.

It was then I learned a very important lesson: Just because you don't see someone use a weapon, doesn't mean they don't know how to do so.

Dallas didn't use the Air Mail when he played me. Not because he didn't know how, or wasn't good at it, but because he didn't need to do it. On the last throw, he blasted my blockade with a perfect slam dunk Air Mail, canceling my board blockade with two Air Mails in a row. The following round, I refused to give up on my plan, bringing a block to the board again, Dallas continued his assault. I managed to bring him to two pushes in the whole 2 out of 3. The rest was all him. My points in the three games we played? Goose-egg.

Wow.

Through the whole spanking (or dare I say "hole spanking,”) I noticed something about my opponent: he got a REAL kick out of knocking my shots. I still have a lot to learn about this game. Not in an obnoxious way, but in a “I just taught you a lesson” kind of way. Personal Note to Matt Guy: I was definitely holding a clipboard tonight.

And later, we will have to give Dallas the shot of the night as well. During a round against Sean, a particularly tough opponent, with with only two points dividing them, Dallas was staring down a completely blocked hole. Having played for a while, Dallas decided he had messed with Sean long enough. He stepped up to the line and just before he threw the bag, he uttered: “Well, it's time to be done with this.”

The Air Mail Hammer shot he delivered blasted the log jam through the hole like a bran muffin clears a colon. Not taking anything away from the shot, but it wouldn't have had half the impact, had he not declared the win before he threw the impossible. It was like Babe Ruth calling his shot. Way to run it Dallas!

As for me, I have been named: about a month ago, I was declared the “Voice of Cornhole,” a monicker I will happily carry to Vegas next week. Everyone has their strengths. While mine is not playing the game, I do see a better understanding of it due to getting spanked by guys like Dallas. I am looking at strategy, making use of an arsenal of shots to win a game and targeting my board. And while I may not be winning games yet, I am getting some respect. Bring on the calls in Vegas. I am looking forward to it.

To those who are reading this I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. On to Vegas! Safe trip West. We want to...

See you on the Field.