Brooklyn vs Boston

While at the shindig in Marathon City, Corrie and I teamed up to play two guys from Boston. I think the copious amounts of Pabst helped me in forgetting their names (sorry fellas). The game was Washers, and not the regular old-school Washers Ron plays and taught us; this was a store bought wooden box set, with a large piece of pipe in the middle of the 1'x1' box. We decided to score it as 1 point for the staying in the box, 3 points for a washer staying in the tube, and opponent washers in the same places cancel each other out.

I stood on one side next to the older of the two from Boston, and the younger stood ten feet away next to Corrie. We'd take turns tossing our four washers, with the previous scoring team shooting first, until one team won by getting to 21 first.

I wasn't going to say anything about the New York/Boston battle, but they brought it up immediately, so Corrie and I bought into it.

The game started poorly for us, as washers would bounce out almost every time, and that's given that they'd even hit the box. The Bostonians took an early 12-4 lead. I've said before I'm too competitive to lose that bad that quick. I was buzzing enough to not really mind losing, even to dudes from Boston, as long as it was close.

Screw this, I thought, and started throwing the washers as if I were playing CAPS. The guys looked at me kinda funny. All of a sudden every shot was either staying in the box or bouncing off the pipe in the center. Every single shot. I was on hit. After making three points in one round of my shooting, I shouted over to Corrie, who was having marginal luck with her-father-taught-style (that works better when the piping is level with the ground) to start shooting as for CAPS. Her last shot that round she switched styles, and made a point. 

We roared back, deflating the Bostonian's attitude. They were no longer laughing and giving pointers. They were now determined, and occasionally gave the CAPS toss a try. We had so much more practice, I thought, that even when they figure out the force to use at this distance we'll have won. 

We had pulled ahead, 18-17, when the younger scored one point during his round, tying up the game. That meant it was his playing partner's chance first. He had four great shots, but none of them scored any points. Then it was my turn, and I remember thinking I'm ending this right now. I scored one point on my each of my first three tosses, not even needing my fourth toss, to clinch the game.

Corrie and I shouted a convincing "Brooklyn!" to each other. The two good sports congratulated us and challenged us to a rematch, only to 15 this time, since both our groups were heading away shortly.

Since we were locked in with the CAPS tossing, the second game was a laugher. We were up 14-4 at one point, only to keep missing as it got darker and darker. We finally finished at 15-8.

Those guys were nice, and good at Washers. Like I said, I wasn't going to make it personal between cities, but once it got there, Corrie and I had to represent.