Holy witch’s elbow! IT’S COLD OUT THERE! Seems like a few weeks ago, I was sitting pretty at 60 degrees. Wait… it was a few weeks ago! In the warm and cozy desert in Las Vegas! Seems so far away, doesn’t it?  But while the weather isn’t as warm, we’re feeling a different kind of heat here in Greater Cincinnati. We’re basking in the heat of competition. Could there be another reason to get out and do something over a cold and ice covered weekend? You bet! We are headed South, to the icy tracks of Kentucky. No, were not talking about the bobsled tracks of the Olympics. They’re closing up shop this weekend in Vancouver. Cornhole calls! The beginning of a whole new year of Championship Cornhole, some serious drama and a pretty big surprise is about to be had. This time, I am not just the Talking Head, I am a part of the story. Guys, I am in the game!

Notes from the Field, 3/1/10: Welcome to the Icehole!

Dateline- Turfway Park, Florence Kentucky- A cold Friday night approached with no promise of a warm up soon. With several inches of snow getting ready to descend on the Ohio River Valley, things were cooling off at the local horse track. Turfway Park is a classic horse racing venue, with all the trappings of racing: simulcasting from races all over the country, a tasty buffet meal and a classic flair for drama already built into the venue. It’s a little strange though, the place was so enormous! It seems around every corner, there was a new place to sit and place bets: Private rooms, grandstands, rows of betting computers. It was easy to get lost.

But as much fun as it might be to bet on the ponies, we were here on another mission: It was time to stage the Icehole Classic, the beginning of the 2010 professional Cornhole season. The first of the Master’s Series, Icehole is the first step in the circuit of Cornhole that will carry players in the ACO across the landscape that will take us back to Las Vegas in January 2011. And while that’s a long way off, we have some blades to hone before we hit the ice. I have to step up my game, in more than one way.

I officially became the “Voice of the ACO” in Las Vegas at the ACO Nationals and was part of the team that crowned the King of Cornhole at that tournament. What a difference a month makes. In the process of a month, I have grown my Facebook page from 122 to 142 fans, mostly on the strength of players at the tournaments. I cannot honestly remember meeting so many people and trying to remember so many names in such a short period. As much fun as I had in the last show, I was really nervous. A few stumbles and a lot of review on the results later, I needed more polish. This time, I felt a great deal more like a part of the team. That meant I was easily recognizable, that I was a part of the official staff. It also meant everyone remembered my name and I had to remember theirs.

Oh no.

Admittedly, with some, that was easier than I thought. You always remember the big names: Matt Guy and his son Brett, Steve Vanderver and Randy Atha, as well as many of the guys I play at home base AL 450. But others, with compelling stories, emerge in the great list of wonderful people in attendance. Memorable at this tournament were some new friends: Dave “The Raptor” Sutton, Dyana “D” Tolliver, Sheri “Egg” Eggleton. And others, Dale Smith, Tom Bobo… the list goes on.

But appearing next to them in the list of names I was reviewing in the Pro-Am list, was a very familiar one. One that I never expected to see on a list of competitors in the ACO. Yet there it was: Gregory Williams. It was on the list of Amateurs ready to play in the opening round. Standing next to me at the registration desk, was the man who had entered my name. And now, I wanted to kill Frank Geers. By the way, anyone who knows Frank, knows the smile of the Imp. He was wearing it when he looked at me. “You ready?”

To those of you in pro competition, I know this isn’t a big deal. Try for a moment to put yourself in my shoes. Try to remember what it was to face something bigger than yourself.

I felt like passing out.

In fact, approaching all of them at this new venue, lining up to be the best, was one thing. As a non-player character in the ACO, it was time to test my metal in the Pro-Am Tournament. And I was really nervous once again. I was a little relieved in the selection: I was playing with a partner I knew. Kevin Pinkerton routinely plays in Milford in my league and is a great guy to have throwing with you. His use of a batting glove on his throwing hand has earned him the nickname “The Glove.” By the way, if you giggle a little at that, you won’t when you face off against him: He only plays competitive games with the glove on. So when he kicks your backside all over the court without using it, you will understand you have been schooled. I doubt you will be laughing after a couple of boards.

We stepped to the board in the first round, a double elimination game that was a 1 game match. Our first “Luck of the Draw” opponent? You guessed it: it was my luck, not Kevin’s that was working. We drew Randy Atha.

Randy Atha, for those not in the know, entered this tournament as the #4 seed. He and his partner, a great thrower, reminded me of two things: I stink at this game, and I was going to suffer a LOT of guilt afterwards, for kicking Kevin out of the match too soon. But wait! I had an awesome partner! Kevin Pinkerton is ranked as one of the best throwers in the ACO!

Well, that didn’t take long!

If there was a way to finish a round faster, it hasn’t been invented yet. I folded like a lawn chair in the last round of throws, offering my neck to the other team within a very short time. Kevin, the magnanimous professional, smiled and shook my hand. “You did good,” he lied. Randy Atha, in a very genuine moment, offered me tips on improving my game. Not to bespoil your reputation as a hot head Randy; we’ll keep that between us.. no one really reads this column anyway.

And so we moved into the rest of the show: The Top Gun series took center stage. While the list of names in the big block was similar, and the results were the same as Vegas, we got there in a very dramatic fashion. Unlike Vegas, there were several marathon matches, one of the most dramatic involving a back and forth match between the all too familiar Dave Sutton and Matt Guy. Several rounds later, we were there again: The ever fateful match between a resolved #2 Steve Vanderver and the resolute #1 Matt Guy. They battled for a little less than an hour. Matt took the first match of the season with a lot of cheers and a familiar friend to shake his hand.

Because you know Matt and Steve are friends, right?

One of the more telling scenes was during a match that Matt’s son Brett was tearing into, I saw Matt on the sideline. Through the game, Matt was showing all the signs of a proud papa. Rooting for him under his breath, secretly pumping his fist far enough away to not be noticed by his son, Matt demonstrated a great deal of pride. There, patting him on the back, who else was cheering his son on? Steve Vanderver was chatting with his deadliest adversary/opponent like it was another regular day. Wow.

And I guess, to these two giants in this new sport, it was a regular day. This would be the reason this game, and this competition, is so hot. As we all made our way out of the park after the competition was over, I went to a car to share a drink with Steve and Dale, looking to finish the day with a little fun. En-route to the car, sliding across the appropriately icy parking lot, I was thinking about how much the people in this competition genuinely enjoy spending time with each other. It is a great group of people, all with aspirations of making it a sport that grows. In the next few years, through promotion, popularity and just plain great fun, this league and all those in it, are looking to see big things. We are professionals, after all.

It is my honor to learn more about playing better, making less mistakes in announcing the matches and becoming a bigger part of the game itself. Maybe next time, I will not embarrass my partner in a Pro-Am quite so much, and will remember more of the names of the folks in a competition. Hopefully, next time, we will see you on the great icy plains of the Icehole. Or something a little warmer. Because wherever you go, you will see it: the gleaming city at the end of the road. To get there, you have to brave icy fields and great competitions. Your road, paved with frozen competitors, had better be trod lightly, because it is not uncommon for someone who lost to you last time, to thaw out and finish you in the next round. Happy icy weekend folks, we will look forward to seeing you in a little better and less chilly venue next time. The game is upon us. Get in it. And maybe, just maybe, we will…

…See you on the field.

P.S. This article was overseen and edited by a very unlikely partner. My son Sandy, who I originally started writing these notes for, is now helping me with editing the material. Notes From the Field are getting better because of that. And now, it looks like I have a writing team. Getting better everyday folks! Pitch on!