How I Waste Time

I survived another date with golf today, and by survived I mean 'had a good time'.

Its always tough when you start hanging out again with someone you used to be close to but then broke up with, and this time is no different. Initially I was tentative with all the usual reservations. But our first date back, in Bermuda, went so well that I was curious to try it again. Still I'm cautious, and this caution more than anything I think led me to wait a little while after the first date to have another go. I mean, I've been hurt before. By golf. Don't think for one instant I've forgotten that. Because I haven't.


And so I had a good time. Once more I was reminded of all the things I like about golf. Being outside, joking with buddies, hitting a decent shot or two. And the best part is being at the point where I don't have to take the relationship too seriously yet. Don't have to rush back into anything. Hell, don't WANT to rush back into anything. Dont' want to open up just yet. Let the spark rekindle, I keep thinking. For goodness sake, don't FORCE anything - maybe that's what happened last time. This time, let the honeymoon phase bloom and play itself out. Just enjoy it along the way.

And then just see what happens. That's my plan, anyway. I'm not thinking too much more forward than that. I'm optimistic, but I'm also in a good place right now - don't want to upset the mix too much. I want to forget about the past, but I don't want to forget the lessons of the past.

We'll just see how it goes. Still, I wonder how long I should wait before setting the next tee time. What is the rule these days? Three days? A week? How long does a guy wait? Oh man, I've just been out of the game so long...


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I'm not sure where that came from. But I did play golf today, and I did have fun. Pete and I hit up the old Baumholder course (remember Baumholder?!? I do!) with a couple of other guys from the 1st Armored Division - guys I'd met before either in or around Iraq. And we had a good time. Some good shots, some (read: more) bad shots, but enough good shots to keep it entertaining and not utterly frustrating. And with expectations still so low, all was in good fun. And I re-iterate: We'll see what happens.


And now to the real purpose of this post. It occured to me the other day that I don't post a whole lot unless I'm traveling. (And even then I slack off.) Of course the travel posts are the most interesting. There's the travel story, the cultural learnings and multiple faux pas I typically make regarding such, and of course the photos including the token picture of me hoisting Pete like a new bride in various locales. And those posts are all well and good, but what about the other things I do? What about the mundane things of lackluster interest that most blogs really revolve around? What happened to those things in my life? Well, good question.

And with that in mind, I present "How I Waste Time", a multi-part series which looks at exactly what I (or Gwen and I) do on all those "wild" nights in Europe when we're not traveling or doing something Euro or Funboy related. People have been begging for this, absolutely begging for it. And who am I not to oblige? (OK, no one's been begging)


Part I - Madden

No conversation about me and wasting time can start, middle, or end without mentioning Madden NFL Football on the Playstation. It is the free time killing Godzilla, stronger than all the rest. Now its true that in terms of grid-iron video games, I was raised mostly on Tecmo Bowl, Super Tecmo Bowl, and a handful of others, and didn't fully convert to Madden until sometime in medical school. From then on, however, I've been a yearly addict of the game, and have pumped countless hours of my finite life into playing it.

Eddie George, Marshall Faulk, Dante Culpepper, Michael Vick, Ray Lewis, Donovan McNabb, and this year's Sean Alexander (the Madden cover) all grace my shelves, and each game has its own memories for me. Starting around Faulk or Culpepper, the game introduced soundtracks with about 15-20 songs per game, all of which I had pounded into my brain hour after hour to the point where I can recognize those songs on the radio, years later even, as "Madden Songs". I know this about them above all else, be it the song name, the band name, whatever. I just know it was in Madden - and then I can sing it word for word. (To date, my favorite Madden songs of all time are Andrew W.K.'s "Party Hard" (circa the Culpepper cover I think), and Green Day's "American Idiot" from the Ray Lewis year.)


For most of the years of my addiction to this game, I played almost exclusively one player seasons in the "Franchise" mode, meaning I would take on an entire franchise (always the Giants, of course) and start playing the season from start to finish. The seasons would come and go, and not only the games themselves, but all aspects of franchise management would be tended to. After the season was over - with me having won the super bowl just about every time (save that one year when I was intern and Ike Hilliard dropped a Kerry Collins slant in the endzone as time was expiring and I lost in the NFC Championship to the then all-powerful Rams - actually I don't want to talk about it) - there were free agent negotiations/signings to attend to and even rookie scouting which culminated in a draft, complete with boos or cheers from computer fans after selections were made. Finally the year turns over and a new season begins. And so on I would play through season after season, building a dynasty, until the next iteration of Madden came out.

I've toyed with other franchises over the years, here and there. The Seahawks when I was in Seattle, Cincinnatti in other years (for some reason, ever since Tecmo Bowl, Cincy has always been one of my go-to football video game franchises...), but 90% of all games I've played are with the Giants. The players progress in skill, and even on all-madden, the game is too easy, so that after three seasons (all Super Bowl winners of course - save that one year. That one DARK year...) all my players are dominant at their positions (skill attributes are raised or lowered based on performance as you go) and I can destroy the next best team like 42-0.

For the past three years at least, I've played on no setting but All-Madden. The most frustrating thing about the All-Madden setting is the rampant computer cheating, which at first is utterly fazing but after one learns the patterns the game becomes playable. Most disconcerting is how the defenders - especially in a zone defense - turn into Spider-Man when the ball is in the air. They leap thirty feet in the air, move with super-sonic closing speed, catching or deflecting everything - you really have to be careful when throwing the ball on All-Madden. As a result, most of my QB's - despite their high touchdown totals - also have high interception totals. I've accepted it for the most part, however there are certain times when its still really annoying. Like when the defensive linemen who drop back into a short, flat zone during a zone blitz are able to leap and one-handedly snag balls in mid-air and start running the other way. Its nuts.


In light of all this, and even with the mighty All-Madden turned on, the challenge of the game had faded somewhat, and before this year I was struggling to think of what else I could do to make the game more challenging, or at least more interesting. And while wandering in the desert one day (literally - I was walking on the FOB in Iraq), I figured it out. (I'm also proud to add that I was probably the first person on FOB Falcon to have Madden 2007 thanks to an amazon.com pre-order. No joke. I really am proud of that.)

I decided to play every game with every team. I would do it by only playing the offenses. I would never play defense. It was crazy. It was insane. It would take forever. It was exactly the thing I needed to do to ground away time in Iraq. (Technical note: To do this, simply go to 'Settings' after every change of posssesion - be it punt, turnover, score, whatever - and switch the controller icon over to the other team. Voila - you're the other team now.)

And now, having tested this theory over the course of this entire year (from August 2006 onward), I can say it works. And it can be a lot more fun than just taking one franchise and dominating all the time. You take it from me.

Mostly the benefits are getting to play with every team and to see every player in action, from Ladainian Thomlinson and Peyton Manning on down to Ron Dayne and Charlie Frye. Every team has its own play-book, its own strengths and weaknesses. And the games are often quite close because guess what? It's me against me! Also its cool when looking at stats to know that every offensive stat was generated by me - no made up computer stats. I'm not sure why, but this "all natural" stat thing is one of the most pleasing elements of playing this way.

I play 6-minute quarters and a full game takes about an hour, maybe just a hair over. I played about six or seven full weeks of the season when I was in Iraq. Then, a with just a few weeks to go (on the deployment, not the Madden season), tragedy struck. My memory card got messed up (dust, maybe?) and the season was erased. It was a tough blow after all the time I had put in. But I resolved to see it through, and started the season back up.

And that is the same season I'm playing today. Whenever I come home from work and feel the need to Madden, I just fire it up and see what game is next on the schedule. I average about a game a day when I'm in town. Currently I'm in week 11 and the playoff picture is slowly starting to form.

Not every game is super fun (late season 3-6 Browns vs. 2-7 Jets, anyone?) , but most games have some interesting element to them and some games are just non-stop fun because the talent level is so high (Colts/Pats, etc). I know people are wondering if I remain objective in all these games. I can assure everyone that I do. Not only are the Giants not in first place in the NFC, they aren't even first in their division, with both the Cowboys and the Eagles ahead of them. So its not like I take McNabb and immediately start throwing picks with him. I play the games even. (If anything, my knowledge of the Giant defense actually hurts them. For example, I know Sam Madison can't run anymore.)

Right now the race is on to finish out this season prior to the next Madden game shipping. It doesn't look good in terms of the timing, but I'm still motivated. Who knows? I might even do the unheard of and hold off on the playing the next Madden game (available in August) until the season I've got going in this one is done. I might just be that crazy.

THIS is what I do.

I just thought everyone would like to know.





Madden In Iraq

Epilogue - This picture was actually during the night of hell when our ammo dump blew up. It was Rams vs. Seahawks. I'll never forget, putting on my body armor, thinking I might blow up, and then, not knowing what else to do, hitting un-pause and continuing to play Madden...Remind me to write out that whole story some time. It was nuts.

Catch Up

Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffin' blog.

Or writing in this thing for that matter. A lot has happened recently, I haven't written a damn thing lately, yada yada. We've all seen this before. So I'll skip the lamenting over of the how or the why of letting this blog fall into the disarray of idleness (or at least I'll pretend to skip over that part while in reality drawing more attention to it), and simply move on with the catch up, catch all, come back post. Here we go.

Bermuda

-Gwen and I went to George and Cristin's wedding in Bermuda several weeks ago and had a pretty fine time. The island, the company, the setting, the reception, the booze, everything was solid. I had never been to the Carribbean before, and as it turns out, I still have never been to the Carribbean, because Bermuda is located in the Atlantic (you idiot), at roughly the same latitude as North Carolina. Did I know that before this trip? Of course not. Public school geography at its finest, of course.

-We arrived in Bermuda to the tropical atmosphere and when in a place like that its very easy to simply relax. Collars, muscle fibers, and attitudes all loosen - there's something in the air and smiles simply come more easily. What a great place.

-The accent of the dark-skinned locals was odd. Some sort of cross between Jamiacan or Carribbean and British. We had a friendly and uber-chatty taxi driver over to the hotel, and in that 30 minutes I learned more about Bermuda (and that accent) than I did in the rest of my time there.

-Within 20 minutes of landing I started singing the Bermuda part of the song "Cocomo" by the Beach Boys every five minutes, a behavior which I repeated for 72 staight hours while awake, (That seemed to taper off the last couple days of the Bermuda trip - it turns out you CAN sing a song too much) driving everyone insane in the process.

-George and Cristin had organized a golf scramble the day before the wedding, and so on the Friday before the big day I found myself staring 18 holes of golf square in the face for the first time in over four years. I had even't swung a club since Iraq (where one night we hit old driving range balls - which we had dunked in the translucent green fluid of broken chem lights - over the FOB wall one night for no good reason while smoking cigars), and I knew after trying a few practice chips that things could ugly quick.

The good news was that Pete and I shared a cart and were in the same foursome. Pete, much like my old roommate John "Boy" Clemenns, has what I would call the ideal golf temperament. He's impossible to anger - or even frustrate - and this proved to ease the tensions of the entire group of four of us, none of whom were very good. But we had a blast all the same. The course with its hills and ocean vistas was absolutely beautiful as expected, and even though one of the guys paired up with us was an Eagles fan, things still went pretty well. (Only three fist fights)

The other good thing was that this was a par-3, 18-hole course, which was a great way to "welcome" myself back into the game of golf. The first time I ever played golf was during the end of my third-year of med school. My friends Cameron, Jamie, Alexi, and I went out and had ourselves a time. That day was fantastic because my expectations were so low and when a good shot did come up, even better. And as I recall, we all ended up getting sauced and having a world-beating burger (best cheeseburger I've ever had) at a place called "Port of Call" in New Orleans later on to cap off the experience. It was a phenomenal day. And then I got addicted to the damn game.

During my fourth year of medical school I started playing more and more golf. Thanks to Papa Stup, I was equipped with some good clubs and all the proper equipment. I never had lessons, but I just played and played over again, trying to improve along the way. Something happened though, and though I did improve, my progress slowed and that 'slowing' led to dire frustrations. Next thing I knew I was leaving the golf course more stressed and frustrated then when I entered it, and as a result I made a clean break with the game going into residency knowing that my psyche couldn't handle the concept of spending my precious few hours off being even more frustrated and stressed than while at work. And so I stopped golfing.

Fast forward to Bermuda, where my expectations had once again lowered to almost nothing. I ended up having a great time that day, though I didn't play particularly well (my short game was a wreck - which doesn't help much on a par 3 course). After losing three balls on three consecutive holes, I simmered down and things went fairly smoothly. I even got a birdie and a few pars before the day was through. Plus Pete and I got buzzed if not more than buzzed and I recall vividly one time driving the rented cart from one beautiful hole to the next, staring out at the ocean, sipping on a cold beer, turing to Pete and saying, "Pete, I've had worse days in my life." And he agreed.

He and I talked about possibly golfing in Germany, which is supposed to have nice courses, and it might happen. If so, I'm sure I'll have fun for a while, then try and get serious about it, then get pissed when I'm playing consistently and yet not playing as good as Tiger Woods, then I'll probably start throwing clubs and then know its time give it up again. But for now, I'm back in the good stages of having golf as a hobby.

-Other phenomenal things about the Bermuda trip were the obvious. Basically the wedding and party and of course seeing a bunch of old residency peeps again. Good times.

Houston

On Sunday Gwen and I travled back to Texas - where everying is bigger - to celebrate my sister's graduation from college. Unfortunately our luggage was lost while on the way back (we got it the next day), but otherwise our travels went smoothly.

That night, at a party for my sister, I had a serious worlds-colliding experience (probably not unlike a much smaller version of what most people experience when they get married) bringing Gwen into a party which had my family, including extended family, the neighborhood friends, Eryn, and even my old college roommate Eric Hurtado (E-Hurt). After many hours of traveling, it was initially a little overwhelming (easily fixed with a few beers) but regardless turned out to be a pretty good experience.

Eryn stayed with us a few days in Houston. As it always, it was great to see him, and the trip included laughing at old pictures of me (high school varsity jacket pictures with wicked high school pseudo-tude are the best) and riveting games of head-to-head PSP action. Eryn destroyed me in most of these (especially tennis). It turns out he's pretty good at video games.

Gwen, Eryn, my sister and I went on a rain-soaked bike ride around my parent's neighborhood, and all of that ended up in a rousing game of Marco Polo in the pool. Yes, we are all college educated adults.

On the Tuesday, my parents rewarded Eryn for all his years of loyal friendship to me by granting him the chance (opportunity, really) to drive three hours and help my sister move from Waco to Dallas. Yes, he obtained the honor of being involved in a move which was helmed by none other than the legendary Papa Stup. It only cost him about 130 dollars (to change his plane ticket), a small price as compared to the infinite spiritutual reward of having things like the "balance point "explained at length and being around a U-haul with a dead battery in the 90 degree heat which could have potentially caused him to miss his flight.

Now its no secret that my San Diego friends are held in low regard for their moving abilities by my dad. A single incident of Iwan "not paying attention" some time after college cost them all infinite credibility in the area. But I like to think that Eryn made up for this with his uncanny ability to secure things to the inside of the truck with rope. His technique was so solid that it caught Papa Stup's all-seeing eye and Eryn was asked to repeat his rope-wizardry several times. Kudos, friend. Kudos, indeed.

In all seriousness, we appreciate Eryn's help that day, and as always it was great to see him and hang out, even if he did miss seeing the spot in Dallas where Kennedy got shot which we drove to not an hour after dropping him off at the airport.


Since the Trip

Since we've gotten back, things have been busy again. Landstuhl is on level TEN all the time these days thanks to this little operation we have continuing in the middle east. I was on call the whole holiday weekend, and it seems like the summer will only get busier as casualties rise and providers leave the hospital to go to other duty stations. More to follow on this, but it looks I'm in for a busy summer of work up here.

Gwen and I did manage to throw a little BBQ yesterday (Monday) for Memorial Day. Gwen bought a grill and though the weather didn't cooperate it stopped raining long enough for us to grill some meat and enjoy some good company. Gwen is quite the hostess when she tries - I was impressed by her ability to arrange all the things so well for the party, despite being on call all weekend.

And now - some pics. I'll try and stay more caught up on this thing in the future.




My Ernie Els-esque swing...








Three beers in...





Pete and I continue our World Tour of this pose - this time with Pete in full Bermuda Shorts






Looking Stylish...




And Again...







"Bermuda, Bahamas, Come on Pretty Mamma..."





Team Madigan






This one sort of stands on its own...