While I've attempted to write a longform article about my experience at the Urban Axes (Baltimore) New Year's Day Over/Under tourney, I find that there's a lot to say and it might be a bit...I dunno...slow-paced for what you, dear reader, may like. While I still intend to write that post, I thought it might behoove me in the meantime to share some of the more entertaining notes that I wrote whilst slowly losing cognitive function at the tourney, day-of.
So, without much explanation and perhaps entirely too confusing to make sense of, here are a series of notes I wrote to myself while competing in the Premier side of a marathon tourney.
6:45 am, Otter Guy's Homestead
I think this rooster remembers what it's like to be a dinosaur, and the noises it is making at me both comfort and concern me.
8:45 am
Why is there so much excitement over this quilt? It's a quilt. We have so many of these where I'm from. Is this regional? Are quilts rare outside of Dutch country?
...and I'm in the Premier side of the tourney. Despite only throwing Premier at over/under tourneys and maybe twice before. Urban Axes likes to keep me humble.
9:30 am
In my very first match, I hit a big axe bull and a premier clutch. I can hear heaven's trumpets. Toot Toot yah bastards.
...Alex James throws big axe like a predator going after prey.
...I fuggin hate premier clutch.
12:30 pm
My Premier thoughts have shifted:
Before: Fuck Premier
Now: Fuck Premier, but a very sincere and hearty fuck you to Premier clutch
Body check: I'm sweaty and starting to feel the weight on my feet. But I'm not yet disassociating, which is nice.
...I realize I'm not really engaging with the "under" side all that much, but I don't know many people on that side, and I'm scared.
2:04 pm
My cognitive abilities are starting to slip. I just excused myself after bumping into a table. To the table. I apologized to a table.
3:00 pm
I ate a crab cake and crab balls. This, for a native Marylander, is essential to a successful new year. Then I got utterly destroyed by Alex. Life is a balance.
3:05 pm
(Gandalf quote about "Long I fell, and he fell with me" thing) - A note, reader: I don't know what I was trying to suggest here. Like, I know the quote, but why?
3:08 pm
I won my first match since who knows how long, reinforcing my belief that all native-born Marylanders must consume crab to regain power. Also, my brain is certainly shut off. I feel like I'm watching a movie of myself in 1st person.
4:23 pm
If I could choose to win my next four matches or get 30 minutes in bed with several large, well muscled people kneading my muscles, I'd be covered in hot stones before you could say "tap axes switch sides"
6:05, pre-tourney break
My goal is to not get knocked out right away, and then watch Otter Guy go much further than me. If that means I get to chill out for a while, that's alright by me.
Tourney Round 1
Won my first match, who knows how.
Tourney Round 2
Nope.
Tourney Round 3
Nope.
8:15 pm
Alex James thought it very important that I knew the cup of yellow liquid she handed to Otter Guy was, absolutely, not piss.
10:15 pm
Leaving Baltimore, heading to Lancaster. My body is a roadmap of pain.
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