Why didn't I let people know I'd be in Atlanta so that I could get together with area friends? Because it was one of those things where MY schedule was unknown, and where the schedules of my traveling companions (reader GregL and someone else whom I won't name because I didn't think to consult about naming) were even MORE unknown. I couldn't know in advance where I would be, or what I'd be doing, at any given time, so I couldn't commit to seeing anyone either at the venue or elsewhere on a schedule I could expect to keep.
This was my first ever IRL backgammon event. In fact, I played more games of backgammon on a physical board (as opposed to online or on computer) this weekend than I had in my entire life before that.
I entered the "novice" tournament because I saw no reason to over-estimate my abilities and put down entry fees on something I'd quickly be eliminated from. These were events with substantial purses (well into four figures per tournament) and entry fees to match those purses; the people who play at that level are so far out of my league that it would have just been pitiful. I got to meet some of those people; there were a few who were definitely Big Deals in the backgammon community (which is just as quirky in its own ways as other niche/hobbyist/gaming communities).
In the low-entry-fee "novice" tournament, though, I did much better than I expected to. I doubted I'd win a single game, but I won three three-point matches and lost two, tying for second place. The winner got to a 4-1 record, meaning she could not lose versus other players' records, so the tournament automatically ended (I'm told this is a tournament scheme called "Swiss Rules").
Interestingly (at least to me), the only match the tournament winner lost was to me. There was no purse, but the winner did get a cool trophy.
In the in-between times, the three of us were able to eat at the original Chick-fil-A location (which is attached to its still-operating predecessor diner, the Dwarf House), maybe 1/4 mile from the event venue, and GregL and I managed outings to the spot where Margaret Mitchell was killed, and to Stone Mountain:
The trip was somewhat exhausting, and not just because of the 1 mile (each way) hike with an 850 meter elevation change at Stone Mountain. Since news and politics is what I do, I really needed to get some work done when Trump picked this weekend to launch Operation Forget About Epstein, Here Let Me Help with You Do That With an Iran Distraction. And I had to do that work on a laptop, which I don't like much. But it all worked out.
We got back to Greg's house about midnight last night, after which I had about an hour of motorcycling to get home, and went right back to work. I ended up with about two hours of sleep, so there's probably a nap in the cards today.
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