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“GET HIM OFF ME! I screamed, desperate for breath and nearly choking on my own blood.
Another vicious shot to the ribs hit me, full force from an elbow that felt like a cinder block. Why in the hell we thought we could pull this off, I’ll never know. The man was made of fucking granite and it was all I could do to stay on him. Within seconds, what started as a rear naked choke had turned into me just holding on for dear life so he couldn’t come at me head-on. Our “simple” plan to take this asshole down and give him what he deserved had turned into that scene from Rocky III where Balboa is getting his shit ruined at the end of The Fabulous Thunder-Lips’ boot. I didn’t have much time left before my likely shattered ribs were jammed into my heart.
I was being smashed against the rough concrete wall for what felt like the hundredth time, but managed to get my legs around him and hook him at the elbows, leaving his midsection exposed. My co-conspirator Scotty picked himself up from the floor for the third time and ran at the big psychopath with everything he had left. At 215lbs or so, Scotty was no slouch, and when his boot made contact with the man’s ribs I heard a loud snapping sound. The man sagged, his arms relaxing just enough for me to regain my leg lock. Scotty grabbed an old staircase spindle and swung furiously at the man’s skull. He teetered, toppling over stiff-legged like an ancient tree in a perfectly quiet forest.
Scotty and I both collapsed, completely spent after a full five minutes of fighting. His eye was already terribly swollen and one of his teeth had somehow ended up on a nearby workbench. A large patch of Scotty’s hair was gone. I located it a moment later…in the big man’s hand.
I was positive I had at least one cracked rib and the left side of my face was completely numb. I had somehow lost my shirt, so the back side of me was nothing but pink skin scraped raw. My right wrist was most assuredly broken, as it made an agonizingly painful crunching sound when I rotated my hand.
I willed myself back to my feet and looked around for the rope we’d brought.
“This isn’t the movies. He could wake back up at any time. We gotta get him tied up ASAP and finish the job.”
Scotty found the rope beneath the man’s legs and set to work. We had him secured in just under a minute.
“I’m tying triple knots for this guy. If we have to go toe-to-toe with him again he’ll either kill us, or we’ll wish he had.”
Our plan was finally back on course, but we were beaten badly and possibly too weak to finish what we’d started.
Broken wrist and all, I helped Scotty drag that massive human, feet first, up the basement stairs and out to a van I had managed to conjure up out of thin air. His chin bounced off each step as we made our way up to the door, and in my mind I hoped it was breaking teeth every time.
I was scared. Why? Because I knew we were in over our head. Despite our injuries, we’d fought ferociously for quite a long time, yet he never made a sound—not a single peep. Not one grimace of pain or scream of rage. Just nothing. Aside from his initial greeting, the only sound that ever crossed his lips was the sharp exhale as Scotty’s spindle finished the job.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise, really, because he’d never made a sound from the first time I saw him…silently stalking my dreams.
Until recently, I had never wet the bed.
However, the first time I recall specifically making note of not wetting the bed was about 10 years ago. I was deep into one of my usual, stupid dreams; I believe in this one I was back at my old high school, doing only God knows what kind of stupidity. I was probably being chased by a tiger—why is it always a fucking tiger?
I usually have a gun in the tiger dreams, but it never shoots. So after taking a pot shot at the thing with my useless Glock, I feel the overwhelming urge to urinate, and I’m suddenly in the boy’s bathroom.
I find a stall, go to it, and the toilet is broken.
I go to the next stall…I see shoes from underneath.
The next stall has a broken door.
And the last one has overflowed. Water is softly pouring over the side like one of those sweet Infinity pools--only this one doesn’t have a hot bikini chick on a raft. Instead it’s host to a couple turds of significant girth, drifting ever-so-close to the porcelain’s edge and threatening to come crashing down on my Ultra-Boosts.
I have to piss like a racehorse, this bathroom is out of options, and there’s a tiger outside in the hallway leaning against the lockers smoking a cigarette, patiently waiting for me to reappear.
Then I wake up, and realize I need to pee in real life*.*
This shit happens to me…often.
Part of me is driven completely crazy by this little aspect of my subconscious, but I’m actually quite thankful my brain is willing to concoct some Vanilla Sky caliber dream scenarios to stop me from creating a warm, wet spot for my wife to roll over into.
Over the years, everything you can conjure up has had an opportunity to stop me from pissing myself. Tigers, Velociraptors, sinkholes, giant crowds of people watching me, a man with a gun standing in front of the stall, and a giant clown.
I know what you’re thinking…”oh geez, another grown man scared of clowns.”
I am not scared of clowns.
What I’m scared of is a 7 foot tall grown man, willing to dress as a clown standing well within reach of my vulnerable penis.
I have had some epic piss prevention scenarios over the years, and each time it happens it feels like the first time. I do appreciate my brain very much for keeping things dry and I give props for the creativity involved, but recently things took a strange, dark turn.
I was chillin’ in one of my typical dreams. I don’t recall a tiger this time, so more than likely it was one of my staple scenarios…driving a two foot long car, or running like an ape.
At some point, my bladder transports me to the house I grew up in. I make my way to the bathroom in the back of the house, then enter and flip the light switch. Nothing happens, and of course I can’t pee in pitch blackness.
Then suddenly after 10 years, my bladder has entered the game and decides to fight back, showing me a desk lamp sitting on the toilet tank, right next to that JC Penny catalog I used to love so much.
I flip on the lamp, lift the lid and get ready to go, when it suddenly goes dark. Foiled again and frustrated, my full bladder and I turn around to leave and something happens. Someone GRABS me, wraps their arms around me, and says
“Let me try something…”
I roared like a wild animal and shot straight up out of bed, ready to do battle with whoever had just put me in a bear hug, which subsequently scared the ever-loving shit out of my wife--even more so than the time I practically shoved her out of bed because I saw a jellyfish on the wall.
This was different, though. I have never, ever felt physical contact like that in my dreams. It felt as real as anything I’d ever experienced up to that point, and even the next morning I could STILL feel the memory of it, just as any other significant human contact I had ever experienced.
The experience weighed heavily on me for a few days. I knew it was a dream, but I also knew what I felt. It felt very real, and I had to find out for sure. If it happened again it could go further and turn into something I may very well not be able to handle.
So, I concocted a plan. I would drink a metric ass ton of liquid before bed and hope like hell the walnut between my ears would take evasive action and dream something up to stop an unwanted Golden Shower. Then, I would keep my eyes peeled for whoever grabbed me last time, and confront them.
It took some experimentation to eventually achieve success. Water and soda didn’t seem to be doing it, so after a couple unsuccessful weeks I broke out the guaranteed urinary tract assault…vegetable soup. That stuff hits my bladder HARD and doesn’t let up for hours.
I whipped up granny’s recipe, had three big bowls around 7:00, and went to bed at 9:30.
The bathroom trips were relentless that night, but between the 5th and 6th visit I must have finally hit a solid spell of REM sleep and it was “go time.”
The scene was me, alone, walking toward a grassy hillside when I suddenly got that familiar urge to evacuate. There was nothing but grass as far as the eye could see in every direction and I absolutely HATE peeing outside. Then as if my mind was reading my mind, a urinal magically appeared. It was perfectly white and fresh, with a strawberry scented deodorant cake in the bottom and no chewing gum in the bowl area. I smiled at the great fortune bestowed upon me by my bladder and unzipped my imaginary trousers.
Without warning, just as sweet relief was about to hit me, I was facing a wall of dirty, haggard looking soldiers on horseback. These were the gritty, hard-nosed types you see in Braveheart or Game of Thrones. Leather armor, with big wooden shields and rusty swords stained with the blood of their enemies.
My pelvic floor muscles hit the brakes HARD. There was no way I was gonna be able to get my flow on in front of all these people. So I zipped up, with that annoying bladder pressure still tapping me on the shoulder in reminder, and backed up a bit to get a better look at the scene before I would most assuredly wake up.
But I didn’t wake up, and I stood mesmerized as the sea of men parted down the middle and a man walked through. He wasn’t a soldier, and in-fact he looked nothing at all like the men surrounding him. He looked to be mid-thirties, average height, strongly built and dressed in modern day jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with some rock band I didn’t recognize.
He walked up to me and offered his hand. I took it.
A bolt of lightning shot up my arm and that *real* feeling hit me hard. This was it. It was the same guy.
He spoke in a familiar accent.
“I’m Scotty. You’re a hard man to catch--and stronger than you look. I had a hell of a hold on you last time and you got out fast enough to make me rethink my workout regimen."
I gave the only logical reply.
“That’s because I have super strength in my dreams. Why did you grab me?”
His smile had disappeared. Looking at me with serious eyes, he slowly raised a finger and pointed off to his right.
“Because I think he wants to kill you.”
My eyes gently rolled in the direction his extended finger indicated. The soldiers were all gone, but about 50 yards out I could see a lone figure. It was a man. Exceptionally tall, perhaps 6’6”, and broad shouldered. He wore tan Carhartt work pants and a blue denim style shirt rolled up at the sleeves. A receding line of sand colored hair sat in a messy heap on his head, and even at such a distance I could see coal black eyes staring out.
Connected to some stout-looking forearms were giant hands, and in his right was several loops worth of what appeared to be cut-off extension cord. In his left hand was a large canvas bag.
If the work clothes were replaced by a suit and the cord became a briefcase, you wouldn’t look twice at the man. He was THAT ordinary. But with those black eyes, the no-nonsense outfit and chosen accessories in hand, he looked menacing…like a farmhand or mechanic who had “put up with enough of the Democrats’ bullshit” and decided to go stomp the guts out of anyone who didn’t fit his narrative.
As a monster in my dreams though, he wasn’t what I would conjure up. And really to be honest, my personal monster would probably just be someone trying to make me run my fingernails across glossy photo paper. *shudder*
“Dude…I’ve run across you half a dozen times over the past year, and every single time that creepy asshole was watchin’ you from an uncomfortably close distance. He’s out to get you, and I’m not sure what’s stopped him so far.”
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the sandy-haired Man continued to stare directly at me. He hadn’t even flinched, or blinked, or done anything to suggest that he wasn’t just a prop in this nightmare, and it was certainly unsettling. Then, all of a sudden, he slowly turned and walked back over the hill and out of sight.
I turned my eyes back to Scotty.
“Are you a real person? I know this is a dream, but it feels as real as my own life. And why are you seeing me?”
Scotty grinned.
“You might think I’m the weirdest son of a bitch you ever talked to, but I’ll tell ya anyways. I’m very real. I’m also a fitness fanatic, and obsessed with longevity of life. I wanna live to a hundred plus years old and I’ve developed certain methods to keep myself on track to hit that number.”
“Ok?” I said quizzically.
He continued. “One of my anti-aging techniques is makin’ sure I stay in REM sleep as long as possible. REM is essential to optimal health in every way because all the good shit happens to you while you’re at that level of sleep. I take all the steps necessary to keep myself there as much as possible. I sleep in absolute darkness with the perfect temperature and the most comfortable bed. I wear a mask, use a cocktail of natural sleep aids, and anything else I can get my hands on in order to achieve uninterrupted REM”
He shrugged.
“But, I’m 43 years old and the one thing I’m losing control of is the call of nature. A while back I started having to get out of bed to pee every night and it threw my entire plan into chaos. I believe maximal REM sleep is possibly the MOST IMPORTANT factor in longevity. I was in a panic, and in desperation I came up with an idea. Diapers. I decided to wear an adult diaper to bed and train my brain to let me pee in it without coming out of REM. I know it sounds crazy, man. I know it. But I was desperate, and necessity is the mother of invention.”
I’m a pretty open-minded guy so this really wasn’t all that ridiculous to me, but I was definitely laughing…in a polite way.
“So you now wear a diaper at night, and go ahead and wet the bed and deal with the aftermath in the morning? All to stay in REM?”
Nodding, he finished the story.
“I do. And through intensive meditation and focus, I trained my brain to take me to a toilet during my dreams so it doesn’t try to wake me up. Now, I don’t understand the dream world but apparently it exists somewhere other than just inside our own selves, but I’ve been hitting some of these bathrooms at the same time you do. In-fact, every time I see you you’re standing in front of the toilet I need and I end up waking up and ruining my REM period. So, a few weeks back when you walked into that same house and that same bathroom with that godawful rose colored wallpaper, I…
I cut him off.
“My mother chose that wallpaper, asshole.”
He backed up a step.
“Easy there fella, I was just takin’ the piss…no pun intended.”
Scotty continued.
“So as I was saying, I decided I would grab you and see if I could tell you to stop interfering in my bed wetting. But you got out of my hands so fast I didn’t get the chance. But I KNEW at that point that you were real, like me. The energy when I touched you was unbelievable.”
“Yeah, I felt it too, and that’s why I’m back here today. You scared the living shit out of me with that stunt, but I suppose my desire to explore that event was stronger than my sense of self-preservation.”
Scotty pointed over to the now unoccupied piece of land where the sandy-haired man had been standing.
“I think he’s real too, and it seems to me he’s locked in on ya for some sort of nefarious purpose. I think it’s because you stick out in the bathroom situations. Characters he’s conjured up in his own dream scenario aren’t complex enough to walk up to a stall with a broken door and panic. He figured out you’re real and he’s got something in mind for you. Why he hasn’t done anything yet, I don’t know, but I needed to warn you. That night I grabbed you, he was standing in the bedroom doorway at the end of the hallway. He doesn’t seem interested in me, though”
I kicked the dirt at my feet.
“Shit, man. That’s my old bedroom. I end up there in my dreams pretty often, which is odd because I always considered sharing that space with my brother to be a living nightmare. He farted in his sleep constantly.”
Scotty shrugged his shoulders
“I don’t know what to tell you. I know right now I’m at home in Clarksburg, fast asleep to the artificial sound of seagulls in a perfect 67 degrees Farenheit bedroom, wearing a warm, hopefully piss-filled diaper. But this moment is real as well, and I’m afraid if that man gets hold of either of us we may never wake up—or at least not in the lives we currently know. I feel like there’s a reason two strangers in the dream world keep ending up in the same place at the same time. I think I need to help you figure this out.”
I looked at him, a little relieved but still VERY unnerved.
“I sincerely appreciate the warning. I…wait…did you say Clarksburg? Clarksburg, West Virginia?”
With surprise on his face, he said “Uhh..yes. You know of it?”
“Yes. Because I live in Huntington.”
His eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
“YOU ONLY LIVE A COUPLE HOURS FROM ME?”
“It appears so, Scotty. This is really starting to NOT feel like a coincidence.”
Another half hour or so later (I finally had to wake up and pee), Scotty and I parted ways. We shared address and contact information, of which his phone number I managed to forget by the time I woke up. However, I did remember his home address.

***
I took the day off work and made some lame excuse to my wife, then headed for Clarksburg. On the long, boring-ass drive up there I thought about what I might do, say, etc, once I met the real Scotty. I mean…if he really WAS real. I had no guarantee the dude was actually some random guy living in my own state. For all I knew, one of my elaborate dreams was just more elaborate than usual. Plus, I had been to Clarksburg several times for one reason or another over the years so my subconscious could have just conjured up a real address I’d seen on a past visit.
I arrived to town still not quite sure if I was doing something entirely stupid, and made my way down a country road to the address Scotty provided. It was real. The number on the mailbox corresponded with a small, nondescript yellow house situated adjacent to the main road. I pulled into the gravel driveway, exceptionally nervous and definitely packing my pistol just in case it wasn’t Scotty’s house, and instead was actually inhabited by some old creeper.
The poorly maintained front yard contained several pieces of outdoor type exercise equipment and a bike rack was attached to the trailer hitch of the off-road style Tacoma in the driveway. A crooked “26.2” sticker was on the bumper, indicating the driver had run a marathon at some point…or at least knew where to buy a 26.2 sticker. It was quite the coincidence because my truck’s bumper has a sticker that reads “0.0 I don’t run.”
Well…the Scotty I’d met said he was a health nut, so the yard and vehicle fit the description. However, I didn’t see any dirty diapers strewn about. Maybe he leaves his in the Wal-Mart parking lot like everyone else.
I rang the bell, quickly patting my concealed firearm’s holster for peace of mind.
The door opened and there was Scotty “in the flesh” as they say. He had a surprised look on his face, to say the least.
“Wow. You’re real.”
“So are you.” I threw my hands up.
“Well…now what?”
Scotty gestured for me to come inside.
“I have a plan, dude. Allow me to share.”
Scanning my surroundings, I took a seat on the couch. It was a pretty typical place for a bachelor. The TV and home theater gear was too big for the wall they sat adjacent to, while old movie and concert posters adorned the other walls. The kitchen consisted of basic appliances, then what appeared to be a DIY hyperbaric chamber.
“Nice place. Where’s the diaper pail?”
He grinned. “Literally, I would never have divulged that information if your life hadn’t depended on it.”
We got right to the business at hand.
Scotty had a theory. If he and I were in such close proximity, then there must be some kind of geographic layout in our dreams. With that knowledge in hand, he believed that the sandy-haired man must also be reasonably close. We agreed that we had no idea what would happen if he carried out whatever horrors he seemed to have in mind.
Could we die in a dream? If so, would we wake up? If we woke up, would we ever dream again?
We spoke about the situation at length, and decided our first plan should be to follow the man and see if the places he went and things he did would provide some clues as to his real world location.
It took some strategic planning and well-timed liquid consumption, but Scotty and I finally managed to be in the same place at the same time in our dreams again. It was a Sears department store location near where I grew up. I made my way to the rear of the store, then down the hallway that always smells faintly of armpits.
That Sears bathroom is pretty much my go-to when I’m at that mall. It’s only slightly better than a decrepit gas station on Route 66, but it’s almost always empty so I can pee in peace.
Scotty entered a moment later.
“Dude…he’s outside in the tool area. I watched from a distance as he followed you, but you got out of his sight on the way over here. I don’t think he knows where the bathroom is yet, which tells me he’s probably not someone who lives in your local area. Where are we, anyway?
I rolled my eyes as I explained. “It’s a mall near where I grew up. In real life I always pee in this bathroom because it’s always empty. I’ve never actually ended up here in a dream, though.”
We quietly snuck back out through the hallway. Scotty took the lead and checked a few aisles before motioning for me to follow.
And there he was, in the lawn and garden section…looking at axes.
He was even bigger than I’d estimated during our first encounter. He had the look of a person you’d imagine bending steel pipe by hand, or holding up a collapsed roof to rescue his fellow miners.
As the sandy-haired man left that section of the store and began to explore, his size was in stark contrast to his movements. His pace was smooth-- almost delicate even, as he moved throughout the store, and there were no footfalls or clumsily bumping into things amidst the tightly packed aisles.
We stayed out of sight, camouflaged by the dream-manifested store patrons while keeping the man in sight. Eventually he made his way back to the tool area and located the bathrooms. He disappeared into both the men’s and women’s rooms, then reappeared just as quickly and set back out across the store.
We had officially lost him. Now it was time to do some stalking of our own.
Scotty and I watched the big man cross the Sears parking lot, heading right for the traffic loop. We followed bit by bit, keeping low along the line of cars in the crowded lot.
Making his way through a crowd of onlookers participating in what appeared to be a dog fight—more specifically, poodles…Toy Poodles….surprisingly violent little things, too. I made a mental note to be nice to my neighbor’s fluffy puppy.
Passing right through it all as if it didn’t exist, the man stepped out into traffic. He walked directly in front of a car and disappeared as it passed right through his body.
Scotty and I stood there in disbelief for a few seconds, but we knew what had to happen. I exhaled sharply as we stepped in front of a literal rocket ship on wheels. I was sure we were about to get smashed, but instead we were suddenly standing on a quiet residential street. Instantly taking a look around before setting off again, we kept our eyes peeled for the sandy-haired man. It took a few minutes of exploring, but Scotty and I finally caught sight of him standing in front of a small, immaculately maintained house. Light gray with maroon shutters, the surrounding property was comprised of beautiful, lush grass and round, perfectly manicured bushes that put my own landscaping shit-show to complete shame.
Scotty pointed off in the distance and looked over at me.
“Hey. I know this area. That water tower. It’s in Pennsylvania, just across the state line. I used to date a girl that lived over here, somewhere.”
Knowing the answer already, I asked…”So how’d that relationship turn out?”
With a smug look, he said “She was a hippy, and wasn’t fond of shaving or bathing. I couldn’t deal with that.”
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. He threw his hands out in front of him, gesturing.
“OK, OK…she wasn’t down with me wearing a diaper to bed. Some girls like it, though. I swear.”
So anyway…..The man climbed the short section of porch steps and put his hand on the door handle, only to make a sudden about-face as if he’d forgotten something. Scotty and I ducked below the bush line behind which we’d taken up position and watched as the man made his way to a shed several yards off the side of the house. He pulled open the sliding doors and went inside. We could hear him rummaging around and moving things.
A few minutes later he reappeared, and slung over his shoulder was a body in a burlap sack. Judging from the sound of the muffled screams, it was a woman. She was fighting furiously beneath the fabric, thrashing and jabbing at what might as well have been a brick wall. His hands were half the size of her back, and it only took one of them to keep her completely under control.
The woman screamed with all she had, but he didn’t bother to silence her. It was his dream now, and there was no one to hear those cries for help…except for me and my new friend.
As the man entered the house with the woman over his shoulder, Scotty and I began to come up with a plan to save her. We knew she was a real person like the two of us, and if he was going to do what he appeared to be preparing for, we had to stop him.
The plan was simple—and in hindsight, it was also incredibly stupid.
Sneak quietly into the house, free the girl, and beat the piss out of the sandy-haired man until he was unconscious and we could figure out what to do with him. It was perfect. You see it in the movies all the time.
But before we did that…I had a problem.
“Dude…I have to pee reaaaaaaaly bad. It’s gonna wake me up any minute!”
Scotty, of course, had loaded up his real life diaper long ago.
He looked at me with a face as serious as I’ve ever seen.
“You gotta do it. You HAVE TO wet the bed, bro. It’s the only way.”
As if on cue, ten feet in front of me my challenge appeared. It was a ballpark trough.
You know, those stupid, wide open tubs that run the length of the wall at sports stadiums. Anyone and everyone is standing out there with their wiener unguarded, just waiting for some asshole to come by and flick it with his finger while simultaneously giving an atomic wedgie.
I took a step back. “Dude, I can’t. Troughs are literally the most dangerous, vulnerable depositories for urine on the planet. I’d rather piss in front of a thirsty tiger!”
“You HAVE to do it, man. If you don’t, all of this was for nothing. You’ll wake up, and being the chivalrous guy I am, I’ll go in there to rescue the princess and that big bastard will beat me to death and run train on my corpse. I can’t do this without you! Just try!”
So, I tried. I whipped it out, took a few deep breaths, focused on my urethral sphincters, and gave it a shot. After 10 seconds or so there was a trickle…just a tiny bit.
Scotty yelled from behind.
“How’s it going! Anything coming out!”
I was frantic. “It’s not coming out enough! I know I’m about to wake up!”
And just like that he was on me. Scotty came up behind, wrapped his arms around my body right at bladder level, screamed at the top of his lungs “I’M A HETEROSEXUAL MAN!!” and pulled back hard, putting enormous pressure on my bladder.
It went off like a fire hose.
A full minute later I was shaking off the last few drops, which were likely just icing on the cake of the enormous circle of urine that was now on my bed back in the real world. I hoped to god my wife didn’t wake up, but the more likely scenario is that she was about to roll over in it. I was also asking myself if we had remembered to put the mattress liner on after the last laundry day.
I raised my arms in triumph. I never thought I would be so happy to have pissed in my PJ’s.
“Let’s fucking DO THIS!”
So, we went for it. The door wasn’t locked since no one would fuck with the man’s house in his own dream…except two real guys in their own dreams.
We crept into the house slowly and quietly. It was as immaculate as the man’s landscaping. Clean, orderly, with simple furniture and drab carpet that had fresh vacuum marks.
However…the smell. Oh my god, it was putrid. It was beyond putrid--it was a nasty, gut churning, bile rising stench that instantly made my eyes water. We covered our noses but it had absolutely no effect. Breathing through my mouth had me about 1% below the vomit threshold.
It was no matter, though. We had to get to the task at hand.
Scotty and I crept slowly around the house, then heard screams from the direction of the kitchen. Retracing our steps back across the house, we followed the sounds to a basement door. It was closed and had a number on it. That was a little odd for a door inside the house. It said “Room 733.” I gingerly turned the knob and quietly pushed it open. From beyond the basement steps I could hear the sounds of Johnny Cash playing softly, coupled with the light static of a weak radio signal.
We began our slow descent, planning to sneak up on the son-of-a-bitch and whip his ass like nobody’s business. As we reached the bottom of the steps, the stench had reached its peak. It was just too much to handle. My eyes burned furiously and my stomach began to spasm. As my feet hit the floor I looked up, and there he was. Grinning. Like, a genuine, friendly and welcoming smile.
I looked around the room as the sickness tried to overwhelm me. God, I wish I hadn’t. Hanging from the floor joists were people…probably a dozen of them, tightly packed but divided into male/female couples, hanging like the tobacco you see drying in a barn along a country road. A large clamp attached to the joists held each one off the ground by its hair, and a bucket sat underneath to collect all manner of fluids and gunk seeping out.
But something wasn’t right. They were thing…too thin…too flat.
I initially though the bones were missing, but off to the side I could see a body laying horizontally within what looked like a stream press. It was more than one body, actually. Maybe half a dozen? They were just completely, disgustingly, horrifically flattened. Clearly in a preparation stage for the hanging phase of whatever sick process this was.
Off in the opposite corner sat what appeared to be a big cauldron, like witches use in old movies. A gas flame burned beneath it, feeding heat to what I now realized was the second ingredient for the intense stench of death. Rubber.
And, finally, I saw the completed product.
Four bodies, leaned against the wall, in an unnaturally rigid manner. They were very clearly made from skin suits, just like the ones hanging above us, but were stretched absurdly tight…not a single wrinkle was visible. Everything just looked stuffed beyond possibility. Eyelids were closed and had been painted freakishly bright blue with a wide open stare. The mouths were also closed and covered by a big dazzlingly white mouth, not separated into teeth. The artwork was horrendous, like one of those shitty kid pictures your coworkers have hanging in their cubicles.
Everything from the moment we hit the floor until he spoke happened in under ten seconds. No one had moved, the grin never left the man’s face, and when Scotty and I came out of the trance he spoke to us. It was and is the only time I ever heard him speak.
Looking at us wild-eyed and with great enthusiasm, he said in an exceptionally deep and thunderous voice…
“You fellas like horror stories?
You ever read the one about Tommy Taffy?
How about The Pancake Family? I bet I've read 50,000 stories but those are my FAVORITES!”

I do like horror stories, and I’ve read both…and now my body could no longer contain the eruption churning within…
I threw up all over him.
The sandy-haired man’s enthusiasm was instantly gone, replacing itself with a look of pure rage as he cleared away the enormous amount of vomit I’d spewed onto his face and chest.
Scotty and I began to space ourselves out to surround the sandy-haired man, hoping to get him at the same time and get this over with quickly. Unfortunately I wasn’t finished vomiting and as Scotty tried to cross in front of me he slipped, landing hard on his back.
The man lunged at me, but I managed to sidestep, sending him careering into the stairs. He was so wide that I hadn’t even seen the woman behind him whose screams had been the very reason for our descent into this hell hole. I also hadn’t noticed that those screams had stopped.
As he flew past me I got a look at her. She was hanging upside down by her feet, bound with an extension cord, and swaying gently from the momentum of the man releasing his grip. Her back facing me and clad only in underwear, I had a full view of her bloodied body and my eyes locked in on something. It was a tattoo. A dolphin tattoo, to be exact.
I knew this because I bought her that tattoo 15 years ago during our honeymoon in Mexico.
With a gasp I lunged forward and spun her body around to face me. She looked dead. Fluids and blood trickled from fresh wounds in tributaries down her body, seeping into that beautiful auburn hair that had drawn countless compliments throughout her life.
I knelt down and screamed her name, feeling hot breath on my neck as the man grabbed me by the belt. In one fleeting second as his superhuman strength began to lift me off the floor, I saw her eyelids flicker open just a sliver. A rush of adrenaline hit me and I scrambled forward far enough to grab her face, stare into her near lifeless and eyes and scream.
“Annie..........WAKE UP!!!!”
And just like that, she disappeared.
So, if you paid any attention to the opening paragraphs of this tale, you know what happened. He spent 10 agonizingly slow minutes beating us like the bitches we were, while we fought with just enough ferociousness to not get killed, eventually resulting in us getting in a couple lucky shots that finally knocked him unconscious.
So, there we were. We had just loaded the sandy-haired man into the van. He was awake now, bound with his own extension cord and lashed to the van’s floor with ratchet straps. I was amazed he hadn’t tried to speak again.
Now, before you think this will take the turn of your favorite horror films I’ll make something very clear. He wasn’t getting out.
I’ve seen enough shitty tie jobs in those films to know what quality work entails. I hog tied the man, tying knots on top of knots and keeping them away from his hands, Furthermore, I boxed him into the upright position using odds and ends that were already in the van so there would be no rolling over and using some surrounding object to free himself.
Once the van was screaming down the road, Scotty looked over from the driver’s seat.
“What do we do with him?”
Staring straight ahead, I said “Set him on fire and push this van off a cliff. As much as I’d like to take my time slicing this motherfucker wide open, we could wake up at any second.
So, we did just that. Quick and efficient, and he was definitely dead.
Shortly after that I woke up. Reaching over to check on Annie, I found nothing but our dog, sprawled out like he owned the place. I panicked for a moment, then heard the toilet flush.
Annie stepped out of the bathroom and headed toward the door to the hallway, saying “Babe, you won’t believe the nightmare I had. It scared me so bad I’m still shaking a bit.”
“Oh also, I think Cujo peed in the bed.”
Over the next month Scotty and I stayed in contact but hadn’t met up in a dream again. In-fact, I was staying up later and had decided to seriously limit my intake of liquids after 6pm. We had vowed not to look for the sandy haired man, and instead would just lay low despite the absurdity of thinking homicide in a dream could get us arrested in the real world.
But as I’m sure you’ve already guessed, curiosity finally got the better of Scotty.
He’d managed to remember bits and pieces of the location of the man’s house in the dream, and decided to take a trip a few hours north to that small Pennsylvania town he’d recognized by that distinctive water tower. Driving around most of the day, Scotty eventually located the house. He sat in the truck for a few hours, just waiting for the man to come out…or not come out. The perfectly manicured grass was high and unread newspapers littered the sidewalk. Scotty finally decided to exit the truck and just stood in the street, halfway wishing the man would see him and come outside.
A curious neighbor hollered from the house next door and asked Scotty if he was lost, or if he could be of any assistance. Scotty made up some bullshit story about meeting the man there after answering a craigslist ad for some camping gear for sale.
“Oh, Mr. Jepson’s not home. He’s in the hospital. You may have seen it on the news, though. It’s all just so sad because he is absolutely the nicest, most kind person I’ve ever met. It’s such a shame what’s happening to him.”
Deciding it best not to ask any more questions, Scotty thanked the neighbor, got back in his truck and pulled up the local news station’s website. Five minutes later, he called me.
“Dude…he’s dying. Check the news!”
I avoid all forms of news most of the time, so I fired up my Galaxy and hit up the local Pennsylvania stations until I found what I was looking for. The man had been taken to the hospital after going over three weeks without sleep. Nothing could put him out…sleeping pills, anesthetics, and even a full-on medically induced coma. Nothing worked. He remained wide awake.
The sandy-haired man…err...Allen Jepson…was literally disintegrating. Body systems, processes, functions both internal and external…all failing, one miserable second at a time.
I updated myself constantly on the story over the coming days, and eventually saw that Jepson passed away. He died in pure misery, feeling the effects of no drug administered to provide comfort amidst the excruciating pain as his body’s systems shut down, one by one. He screamed in agony until exhaling his dying breath.
So there you have it. The answer to one of life’s great questions…what happens if you die in a dream?
A few days later I found his obituary.
Rev. Allen Edward Jepson, 62, of Montclaive, PA passed away at University Medical Center after a tragic illness.
A voracious reader of folklore and scary tales, people often said he would read through the entire internet if he lived long enough.
Beginning work as a butcher at the age of 14, Mr. Jepson was known throughout his lifetime for possessing remarkable physical power, performing feats of strength for crowds at county fairs, fundraisers, and the like.
Although leading church services was not his primary occupation, in his spare time Pastor Jepson facilitated eternal salvation for thousands of lost souls and enriched the lives of all who had the good fortune to meet and spend time with him.
In addition to countless other selfless endeavors, he was a lifelong supporter of hospice, spending a few final hours at the bedside of over 1,000 residents as they gained their Heavenly wings. Many times, he said “I feel it’s my life’s mission to be present for those who are in their final moments on Earth.”
Reverend Jepson was preceded in death by his dear wife Judith and only son, Tommy.

The real killer

Psycho Betting and Stats 301-Degenalytics Question

!!!!DISCLAIMER:!!!!
Before you even start watching this for entertainment and see if you get offended by this un-P.C. content. Don't be a pussy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Igsb3ejgbL8
If you can't handle it, leave this thread. If you can, then you may proceed to the next level.
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📰📜Story📜📰:
I've been scatter-brained, ire-filled, soul-searching and lost after a 7-day Degen Marathon that brought a shit load of misfortunes. I used to hate social media, but I've learned how to wield the soc. med. sword like a fucking Degen Jedi. I'm going to promote an honest cause where I seek to be victorious in the end. Just you watch you fucking doubters, haters, blockers, scammers. How much grit and intellect would the average fucking person have to endure what I've gone through in the last fucking 48 hours and still come out alive with a sense of greater purpose?
Had about $400 to $500 in righteously earned bonus dollars earned through impossible grinding degen mission that came pretty close to accomplishing (91%).
I would have had some imaginary >$600 BR by now, but instead the roll-over deadline caused the entire deposit to be forfeited and I manage to salvage some $100.
Due to a bonus rollover scheme, 80U of my balance was stuck in bonuses and if I fail to accomplish the roll-over by the deadline, it all gets forfeited.
With a $500-$600 balance, I could have somewhere at $900-1000 by now after a 20-2 W-L record on European football on Wednesday.
How did I get that record yesterday, by sampling a bunch of solid pre-game picks and live betting using my own fucking brain. I consult with the finest in capping. With $10-$20 bet sizes, That would have put me up maybe $15x16 = +$240 at minimum. $1000 was the imaginary bank roll. As of today, betting with $1 units, after Monday-Wednesday's successful run, while Tuesday was a -$50 blip, I converted $100 to about close to $200 (40U).
🤪🤑Psycho Betting🤑🤪:
I learned the art of psycho betting. Taking some well-advised 10U and 30U psycho bets that put my bankroll up a significant amounts, but a big loss does the opposite. Yesterday I manage to hit 4 grand 30U slams in a row, however many on juiced lines, so each $30 bet one returns about $15-20. Thus my bankroll grew nearly +100 units and sits close to $200 from the initial $100 I manage to salvage after that bonus robbery.
If you want to fucking learn the art of Psycho-Betting to the extremest and be successful at it, fucking put in $100 in Bovada (remember to use money that you can afford to lose) and get that fucking bonus for the purpose of looting the bookies in a successful vengeance scheme. This guy is a fucking Artillery: https://twitter.com/GoTimeCappers.
Fucking hit more than 4x30U grand slams yesterday and some 10-20U cherries on top. I tailed his free picks and other through consultation [Haha fucking reddit/sportsbook will probably ban me for promoting another tout, :)].Of course with my $1.5U size on a crippled bank roll, I cannot grow it to as much as I wanted to using GoTime's techniques. I would have been at another +$400 if I had $6 units. It's a high risk and high reward system, but if you are confident with your picks you go big on it. If you lose it, then you grind back with smaller 10U and 20U bets to try to get back to part to be able to do another 30U bet. The goal is to be like 2-1, 3-0 on 30U grand slams a day. There is some level of sustainability and back up plans to execute in case the 30U bet did not work out. It is very improbable for you to lose 10 in a row on well researched picks that the experts in the community have common agreement on. A lot of the times, the lines shift to reward you less for the pick since big money is already on the pick.
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!!!!!DISCLAIMER: DO NOT READ BEYOND HERE IF YOU HATE MATH OR HAVE AN IQ OF < 89!!!!!
Use the chart on: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IQ_classification
Here is a Nice Calculation to do:
📚📑💻Stats 301 Question in Degenalytics💻📑📚**:**
Lastly I asked anyone in the past few days to do a Stats 301 question with Degenalytics Context: To fucking determine the probability that an avg Joe with a $100+100 Bonus Bank-roll or $500 + 250B bank roll can actually pull off the $3000/$7500 grind in some number of N months betting with supposedly 2 full months of real sports (N-2) getting Obliterated by COVID-19. I want you to give me an analytical calculation or a simulation of your work and give me all the possible scenarios.
Then give the final verdict of if that number converges to 0.000% or 100.00% that the average Joe would succeed his false-hope mission for a successful rollover.
In other words think of it like this: If the average joe bets his entire bank roll 12 or more times (roll-over is not x10 because of bookie juice), what is the probability that he will still end up in the green? Also assign a tilt probability factor that the Average Joe would go on some emotional tilt spree to end up bust again? And make it even harder by eliminating 2-3 full months of real sports (N-2.5) and having to bet on Bovada's limited shitty ass lines and shitty live odds.
If you fucking want to eliminate the -2.5 months, then allow the average joe the freedom to bet on N months of e-sports [hahah] and see where that goes.
I had a bad experience betting on e-sports for 2 months and only end up -15-20U. I'm not saying that I lost because I suck at e-sports betting or I tailed the wrong people. The Bovada lines are super shitty and limited. Most of the time, on live esports, all you see are dashed out lines as if they fucking know what the rigged result is and prevent people from doing hedge bets or try to bet opposite spreads when they are winning to guarantee an insurance 1-1 with minimal damage incurred to their bank-roll. The live betting experience on e-sports on the Bovada platform is so bad that you are guaranteed to lose in the long run. Fucking hell Bodog/Bovada even offered me a $250 deposit on 100% bonus after the Rudy Gobert day in Mid March. They advertised the joys and wonders of getting rich betting off esports.
I was so tempted to deposit, however I kind of over-slept and missed out on the dead-line so they closed the bonus offer. Pretty good relief that I did not fuck-up my real credit card and bank account by falling for that scam again. It was an accidental Grace of God moment to fucking avoid that E-sports deposit marketing scam.
BONUS Questions:
A: Calculate the number of months needed and number of successful bets required for the conservative degen 1u bettor to grind out the roll-over playing
$2.00 tug of war with the bookie.
B: Calculate the odds that a professional capper who knows how to adjust unit sizes (1u-5u), do parlays once a while, will succeed the roll-over in some
N-2.5 months or add some e-sports to have fun to keep the N factor.
C.1: Calculate the conditional probabilities for the bettor succeeding in the mission if on the first few days of betting:
i) He loses bet 1 for about $20.
ii) Wins bet 1 for about $20 to earn $17.5.
iii) Goes on a 3 game losing streak
iv) 5 game losing streak
v) Positivity case: The guy got lucky and nearly doubled his bank roll on a decent run from day. Up +100U or $200. [I'm sure that out of bad discipline the average Joe would still go -200U in the long run with a pretty high probability.]
C.2: Determine the mathematical scheme on how the Bookies can use your first few losses to eventually put you in a 60+:40- (Greater than 60% locked in bonus, less than 40% of your deposited money). Bonus:Locked funds ratio.
The Jinx-King answer: It converges to zero [hahaha], but I really am interested in know what other scenarios math and stats people have come up. And your mathematical approaches and formulae used to generate possible scenarios and probabilities. But I think it is safe to say that for the average Joe,the answer is 0.00% success rate. Bodog/Bovada knows this exactly and refuses to put a hiatus on the roll-over deadline. Instead they keep it going so that people can try to wager on e-sports and lose their entire bank roll. They are only interested it getting 100% of your locked funds so that they can buy expensive cruises, yachts, beach mansions, resort packages, etc in Aruba or some other tropical place. Where you got millions of desperate Americans, Canadians in struggling economies with lost jobs and zero positive cash-flow. About 10% or so or perhaps even more deposit money into off-shore gambling websites hoping they can roll-over their bank-roll some ridiculous number of times and make a few bucks to put food on the table.
In fact, it makes matters worst being jobless, having zero cash flow and having locked funds in scamming bookies. If you are not good at casino or sports-betting games, you would have:
A: Lose your entire deposit for failing to grind it out properly.
B: Not grind it out on time on whatever dead-line the roll-over was.
C: Even if you did successfully grind that shit out using conservative 1u betting and play $2 tug of war with the bookie, you will end up just wasting your time grinding it out for hours and hours on end. It would have been better for you to fucking find a job at some farm helping out with harvesting crops or work in meat plants so that food does not go to waste. I bet you I can make more money than your $2 tug of war in one a day picking off cans and bottles off the streets in some exercise walking/running/biking + collection routine then selling it to the recycling center for $0.05-0.25 a unit. Trust me at my university, I spot maybe about 50-200 empty/partially driven cans and bottles left on desks, lecture halls, the floor, libraries, work areas, etc. Supposed that I harvested that shit, I would be making $5-$20 a day collecting it all and going to the recycling center once every week.
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⚖Conclusions⚖:
The fucking company knows this COVID-19 closure shit and want to use it to their advantage to continue to rob millions of their customers. Last week, I tried to call customer service, chat help, email, etc. and management has spoken to plead my case to delay the roll-over dead-line in a pro-rated time frame so that customers with locked balances can resume betting with their full balance when Game 1 of any Major League Sport actually returns. They give me the same bull-shit over and over saying they decline my request. For what reason?

The terms and conditions written in fine print for accepting the bonus conversion challenge. "Rules are Rules."
They were aware my deadline of June 22 at 19:23 ET was approaching soon. They knew I was on a mission to salvage my bank roll before they yank out the 60-75U trapped in bonus balances (i.e. Ghost money). By the end of it, I realize I made a foolish mistake. Most of my wins were just from bonus money and I was rewarded $0.00 on righteous wins on expired bonuses.

Therefore Bonus money only earns bonus money which put my entire bank-roll in a 80:20 ratio where the bookies control 80U in ghost money. By the end of the roll-over deadline, they get to yank out 80U of my balance at the deadline and left me with about $100 (20U) bank roll to regrind.

They knew I was winning consistently making solid picks.

During my 110 hour marathon over the brutal grind of losing more than 70 hours of work, leisure and recreation; 35 hours of sleep; to a fucking impossible grind of trying to roll over some 60% of $7500 on sports I have little knowledge of capping (i.e. E-sports, Table Tennis, European football) after a few days of studying the game, I was picking up my stride to grind it to 91%. They fucking knew that if I had another day to grind, they would be coughing up +$600-800 of withdrawable balance to my account.
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Bio:😎📚🎓👨‍🎓
I am a Fucking PHD Candidate (2-6 months from graduating and not having to pay another round of BS tuition) who does a shitload of mathematics, statistics, simulations, mathematical physics, wrote scientific papers. I've won T.A. Awards, Government/Provincial/Institutional level scholarships, Conference presentations, with even Undergrad honors back in the day. DM me if you need a fucking CV to prove my fucking credentials.
Why am I able to write a lot of shit? Because my fucking brain operates on some max level Intel Xeon chip on overclock mode and I cannot do much to shut it down other than going to sleep. They only way is to write articles that I think might benefit the community.
I have a crazy interest in sports and Degen'ing. I love to fucking put action on sports games, be proud about making the correct calls on the outcome of games before it happens, and then boast to my circle of competitive friends about who's the fucking Boss. As tabboo as society think us degens are, I think this absolute BS. There is a pure enjoyment in watching sports and having action on it. It is nice to get paid beer money to cover a round for your buddies, or earn that rent money over a successful night of betting on shit you actually enjoy watching. Fuck I rather make $300 for one evening of enjoying sports rather than working a 9-5 dull job to try to afford rent/mortgage. If I can fucking pay off all my monthly expenses in 3 fucking successful nights of 3 hr sessions of sports matches, that would be ideal. I would take the lather over a 9-5 rat-race grind.
Overall I am "PRO" in the debate for local single sports betting bookies to be established in Canada. Get these fucking scamming off-shore books like bodog/Bovada who contribute only contribute "Bagel" to the Canadian Economy, but instead make it worst by scamming the masses of hard working or desperate people to leak out some sum of billions of dollars of national GDP. Probably the same applies to all American States, that people should not have to cough up their hard earned $$$$ to off-shore scamming bookies. I shall write an article about this later to justify my arguments later.
Ultimately I my goal is to obliterate or negate the influence of all the cons, scamming bookies, and false touts out there who are just interested in stealing people's $$$. To write out full studies on exposing their schemes in an objective lens.
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Calling me out: (Think I cannot track these pussy downvotes? I know you cowards 😂😜😎)
If you think I'm full of BS, then send me a personal DM to have a 1v1 argument the same way that Stephen A debates sports with Max Kellerman. You can downvote me or flame me with empty hate talk all you want on public threads. But don't be a fucky pussy by avoiding a debate with me. Trust me, I'm going to win and be the last one to state a real point that you will have no comeback for [haha]. Lastly, if you are open to discuss or debate with me about some issues, do some resarch/exploration, betting strategies, etc., I would love your collaboration in some projects I got going on.
Ultimately, I should help every honest worker strive towards Degen success or if not, just to purely enjoy putting action on sports games. If you are too full of yourself, then you are on your own, I bid thee adieu, and wish you all the best. However you will be absolutely declined to all services and counsel I work to provide to friends for free.
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Social Media📺🎬
Some extra Resource to how I got to this point in my mission.
Here it is for starters:
June 23, 2020: The Impossible Pursuit Reddit/sportsbook/Brag and Bitch (Tuesday)
June 24, 2020: Doubling Bank roll and rewarded Bagel: Reddit/sportsbook/Brag and Bitch (Wednesday)
June 24, 2020: How can you win 5 in a row and lose it all simultaneously? Reddit/sportsbook/What is your most impressive win?
Full Twiiter: https://twitter.com/jinxking0p5
All my media: https://twitter.com/jinxking0p5/media
Discord: ????? To be solved.
Challenges: Got a few right in progress now and a couple of drafts I am working on.
The Jinxking Crusade (In progress): https://twitter.com/jinxking0p5/status/1275516258822131714?s=20
Turns out many people cannot withdraw anything out of Bovada/bodog due to some website glitches. Will try to recover a bankroll to attempt a withdrawal, however I am likely to have the same issues too. They will make some lame excuse to not give me a cheque. Definitely no point of pursuing anything in bovada/bodog if they refuse to give you withdrawables. The goal is to get their website off outta here. As well as get them out of advertisements. They definitely pulled off some "Get the fucking money and run scheme" and you will likely not see your money again. GG
The Jinxking Challenge (In progress): https://twitter.com/jinxking0p5/status/1275661929940467713?s=20
Want to expose a bad tout who over prices the service and has a mediocre record? Tail and fade to call their their BS or mediocre non profiting record out. Also good for finding legitimate winners too. This will be a mission to expose shitty touts on Twitter the way Penn & Teller exposes BS in the market.

SFR #7 (Speeder Fan Reaction - Marathon)

SFR #7 (Speeder Fan Reaction - Marathon) (wouldn’t let me crosspost)

Blurryturtle's Wimbledon First Round Writeup

Halfway through the season anyone could use a break, and for those guys in the top of the rankings who’ve earned it, that break is the grasscourt season. Short volleys, a boost for everyone’s serving, appreciative crowds, and exhibition events that feature about the same effort level as the real tour events. With the awe-inspiring grind of the clay tour behind them, the tour’s finest will head to Wimbledon this week for a chance at making history. At this vaunted venue, even 1 match can be talked about for years and with the speed of the grass, upsets are never out of the question. Below are my thoughts about the 1st round of the men’s division.
Djokovic Kohlschreiber : Kohl managed to nab a win against Novak earlier this season in Indian Wells on a slow hardcourt. A couple weeks later he managed to steal a set in Monte Carlo on clay. The progression from favorable conditions to difficult ones continues, and while Kohl is the definition of a professional on the tour, this is one way traffic. I had a chance to watch some of Novak’s exhibition matches this past week, and while the best takeaway was how capable Shapovalov and Garin are on the swift stuff, Novak looked not only engaged but happy to be in contested rallies. If you watch a lot of great champions they are actually at their most engaged and highest level when they are being pressed, and this is revealing of how difficult it is to play at peak level against inferior opponents. Kohl’s W against Novak will keep his attention on the match, and where he struggled a bit in his comeback Novak’s serving game is nearing top level again (he has really been hitting his spots nicely). Novak is my pre-tournament pick for the title here, and I don’t think he drops a set here. Novak in 3.
Kudla Jaziri : Kudla has had a Mischa Zverev like start to 2019. He had to go through qualifying in some events and head to the challenger in Surbiton, but managed to string together some 7 wins through this grass season. Arguably his best surface, he has a great first round draw here in Jaziri, who has been struggling with injury and playing not only sparsely, but on clay at that. Two clay challengers and early exits have been on the menu, and rumblings of dealing with injuries lend to the idea that he probably is not at his peak for Wimbledon but of course cannot afford to pass up 1st rd points and pay in a major. With a big serve and a big forehand, Jaziri is a threat in any set of tennis, but these players are trending in opposite directions. Kudla in 4 at most.
Gulbis Mayer : Although this matchup sits in the Novak section, this is a tidy little spot for someone to steal some very important ranking points with the winner likely facing Hurkacz where they won’t be favored but will certainly have a chance. Gulbis has had 3 subpar losses to start his grass season, and Mayer hasn’t fared much better. The time Mayer tends to need to produce his groundstrokes will hurt him on the grass, and injury rumblings before the French Open coupled with his lack of activity make me think this is a great chance for Gulbis to steal a match and remain relevant on tour. Gulbis in 5.
Hurkacz Lajovic : Grass suits Hurkacz game nicely as he has a big serve and good reaction time on his groundstrokes. A fairly flat backhand moves nicely through the court and although he’s had middling results through the grass season, he’s shown more promise than Lajovic. One of the smaller players on tour with a less than dominant serve, Lajovic prospers primarily through precision and intelligence. That counts for something on grass but what will decide this match will be Hurkacz ability to hold serve with a great deal more ease. Hurkacz in 4.
Auger-Alliassime Pospisil : “Anything is Pospisil,” my friend says for the 400th time. “haha” I type for the 400th time. I am nothing if not loyal. If you watch Vasek Pospisil you think, This is a professional tennis player. Big serve, excellent skill, appears to be in top shape, but the results end there. Grass and the US Open will be his best chance to pick up some points, but this is a terrible first round draw for him. Perhaps injuries have hampered his rise on the tour in the past, but he has shown an impatience on court that speaks to a slight confidence issue in hanging with the top players. While they’re from the same country and this comfort can produce a higher level of tennis from the underdog, FAA’s current form on grass is not to be underestimated. Those saying he has a chance at the title are more hopeful than valid, but he is a favorite against anyone outside the top 30 in any round at this event. An easily repeatable serve, a great reach, and pure athleticism combine to form one of the best coached players I have seen enter the tour in a long time. Injuries cost him his big major debut at the French Open, but I expect him to be prepared for the big stage here and clean up a struggling Pospisil. The best thing I’ve seen from FAA has been the winners he hits to the open court. There are a lot of guys employing the “guide it to the spot and kinda cringe inward and hope” strategy, but this kid hits the ball with length and angle right through the court. This may cause an error here or there but in time (and he has it) it will produce a player whose standard shots are simply more aggressive and repeatable than his opponents. This is a future #1 barring injury. Given Vasek’s main strength is a big serve, he could hold his way to some tiebreakers, but the writing is on the wall. FAA in 4 at most.
Dimitrov Moutet : Dimitrov has yet to have a match this year that did not seem like it was primetime disaster popcorn status. Moutet is likely most known for his gutsy loss in the French to Londero, but he has turned heads this season on the challenger tour and while he’s not the most athletically blessed guy, he’s left handed and has a great deal of determination and confidence about going after his shots. Dimitrov has been know to play too passive and to lose his length, and this is a player who will steal a set if you let him. That loss of focus is an intangible, and so while Moutet will be waiting and hoping for it, Dimitrov SHOULD (big should) win this in 4 sets. With the winner facing FAA, I really am hoping that he does. Dimitrov in 4.
Sonego Gralloers : I glanced at the oddsmakers lines for this and noted that it’s a pickem. Granollers has all but vanished from the main tour this season, and Sonego’s game and stock has been on a constant rise. The expectation of fatigue following his win in Turkey this weekend could play a factor, and Granollers is a get artist who will extend any match. Sonego has the better serve, better forehand, and his backhand slice has proven quite annoying on grasscourts, and I expect fatigue to not be as much of a factor for a young player. Sonego in 5.
Umbert Monfils : Monfils has taken a nice vacation through the start of the grass season, and as stated in his contract, he must play at like one Frenchman in the first two rounds of a major. I haven’t heard injury rumors about him, and while his loss to Kudla is a little troubling I caught that match and he was mostly practicing and enjoying himself. There is a great deal to like about Ugo’s game. He’s a lefty, he has excellent control and poise, and a good enough service game to allow him to remain in the top 100 for a few years at least. Monfils is going to be able to counteract these positives here though, and while he hasn’t shown much determination through the first section of the grass season, for many guys at the peak or end of their career these are warmup events, and I expect Monfils A or B game is enough to get him through this match. Since they’re French and since it’s Monfils, you’re going to have to consider that a 4 or 5 set clash could ensue, so I would avoid betting on it, but Monfils should come through here with relative ease. Monfils in 4.
Medvedev Lorenzi : Lorenzi is the most annoying player on tour who no one should lose to. People do though, and his fight and skill at 37 steal him enough victories each year to keep him just around the 100-150 level. Medvedev is a player capable of the kind of anger and frustration that net Lorenzi most of his wins, but Medvedev in rage mode features no alterations in play and possibly even better serving than usual. This is oneway traffic. Medvedev in 3 incredibly drawn out sets.
Carreno Busta Popyrin : Oddsmakers have Popyrin as a favorite in this one and the reason is the consistency that PCB has shown to lose close matches since his return. He has been losing the first set in almost 75% of his matches since his return from injury and this is a crusher on a surface like grass where it is hard to manufacture breaks which are really where PCB has always made his money. I cannot count the number of times PCB was broken at the end of a set and broke right back. He showed some promise before losing to Sonego in Antalya but he just isn’t back to his peak yet. Popyrin is unproven on tour, and while he’s notched some wins here and there the best thing about his game is his game. Results aside, Popyrin is one of the best talents in terms of ceiling on an Australian roster that features nothing but young talent right now with Kyrgios/De MinauThompson/Bolt etc. This is a real test on a real stage for him as PCB does not give anything away and has a representative service game, and I’d be hard pressed to call a clear winner here. I do think that coming through qualifying will give Popyrin a decent amount of confidence, and that notion that “this guy may be vulnerable” is enough that if he’s able to nose ahead he could win this match. While PCB’s level hasn’t quite returned to 2017 2018 level, he is still the way more experienced player. I expect this to go 5 sets, with the winner being a coinflip. Popyrin in 5.
Chardy Klizan : Chardy has played some grass since the French and Klizan has not, seemingly, played at all. In a bo5 match Klizan may find his game and begin to pressure Chardy, but Chardy’s offense is such that he will likely already have a 1 or 2 set lead before this happens. I don’t see either guy getting blanked, and Chardy simply will be the more prepared player. Chardy in 4-5.
Klahn Goffin : Goffin is back, my friend announced recently. A former high level tennis player and a current pro announcer, his words were just what I’ve been waiting to hear. After an eye injury which seemingly reduced all aspects of his game for months, Goffin finally began to show good form in Hertogenbosh and Halle. Wins over Berretini, Zverev, and Hughes Herbert are the most notable for me, as these players all present defensive challenges that the old Goffin was apt to solve, and the recent Goffin has been apt to get rolled by. A fairly simple first round opponent in Klahn will not present much opposition, and while Goffin can make anything into a match, I believe he would have to throw this one to avoid finding himself in the second round. Goffin in 3.
Edmund Munar : Edmund began to show some excellent quality this week in his match against Evans. After not much of a season, and a first set where Evans showcased his entire variety in exchange for multiple breaks and multiple rounds of applause, Edmund again found a way to apply his forehand in a manner that breaks down his opponents mental game and turns them into defensive grinders. While he wasn’t able to find the cracks in Taylor Fritz game, playing on home soil against a clay court specialist should find him in the driver’s seat. Munar has actually shown more early in the grass season than I expected, holding serve enough to get to a tiebreaker against Fucsovics and Coric. That doesn’t offer much hope in terms of beating an in-form Edmund with the crowd at his back, however, and he will likely bow out and head to the hardcourt swing. Edmund in 3.
Majchrzak Verdasco : Verdasco had the good fortune to be part of Sam Querrey’s return from an ab injury, but still nabbed a set. This is notable for me because had he not shown a spark of competition, it would be easy to write him off here. Some may remember Majchrzak from his marathon match with Kei Nishikori at the AO 2019, where had he not succumbed to cramps he would have likely pulled the upset and already been on the main tour. Life is a struggle however, and while Majchrzak has spent the last few months on the challenger tour, he has been racking up wins and will be ready for this stage. A big serve and crisp groundstrokes make him best suited I believe for a fast hardcourt, but the grass could easily be his coming out party. He came through qualifying and while I’m sure Verdasco won’t be taking this lightly, he will have a hard time shutting the kid out. In a match that will largely be decided by whose offense makes more errors, we may see the first upset of the 1st round here. Verdasco is a guy who requires favorable conditions to compete, and on an outside court against a “random” I don’t think he will do much besides complain if Majchrzak begins to roll. Majchrzak in 4.
Arnaboldi Karlovic : I’ll be honest, I don’t know Arnold Arnaboldi. I don’t know if his first name is Arnold either, but it would be cute if it was, so it is. Having come through qualifying, I can guarantee he is a quality player with a fairly good ability to hold serve, and that’s enough to mean this match will feature tiebreakers. Who will win those tiebreakers? I have no flipping idea. Karlovic matches are the hardest to predict as until he throws in a bad service game he looks unbeatable, and once he’s in a volley it almost appears that he cannot play tennis at all. The grass suits his slices and volleys, and he would appear to be fresh after skipping the clay season and the grass. Karlovic in 4 or 5.
Fabbiano Tsitsipas : After a good week and a nice warmup match with Querrey, Fabbiano has drawn a terrible first round opponent. While he is coming off a loss to FAA, Tsitsipas is one of the best and most well-rounded players on tour right now and has the edge in their past matchups. Fabbiano is a threat for an upset and has pushed some guys in the past, but he’s been a bit unlucky here with the draw and this should be a bit more than he can handle. Tsitsipas in 4.
Anderson Herbert : Is Anderson back? Oddsmakers do not believe so, but also believe so. Anderson sits at -220 on Bovada and in what has been one of his best events in the past, this is a bit low. Herbert is one of the most skilled players on tour and is excellent at net, but his lack of power has at times kept him in matches he should have been able to win in quick fashion. Anderson looked unimpressive in his first match back from injury, and the jury is out on whether he is fully recovered, with a loss to Simon not really lending itself to believing that a deep run at Wimbledon is on the way. For gambling porpoises I would avoid this one, but as a spectator it is another intriguing story at an excellent event. Herbert has been on the edge of some big wins it has seemed at times, and a rusty Anderson may just be his chance to get one. Somebody in 5.
Tipsarevic Nishioka : What a wonderful draw where Thiem plays Querrey and these two get to ball out in the first round. Tipsarevic has made some traction in his return from injury, and Nishioka has made more. While Tipsarevic is a great player with good control and a ceiling higher than Nishioka, that ceiling is well behind him and Nishioka is a difficult player to put away. I expect shockingly long rallies for grasscourt tennis in this one, and I suspect Nishioka will come out ahead in way more of them than Tipsarevic. Nishioka in 4.
Seppi Jarry : A matchup of opposites. Seppi’s best surface. Jarry’s worst. Seppi’s controlled swing is short and allows him to adjust well in the grass. Jarry’s huge swing leads to all kinds of errors on his groundstrokes. Seppi’s strength is poise and consistency. Jarry wins 1 tournament a year and looks like a top 20 player then double faults his way to first round losses for 3 months. Seppi is towards the end of a bright career and his game is beginning to falter. Jarry is at the beginning of his and at probably his best. After a hard to watch loss to Simon a week ago it would be easy to write Jarry off here, but Seppi lacks the big weapons to put this one away in short order. This is another coinflip and given Jarry’s recent struggles I would not be surprised if Seppi wins. Seppi in 5.
Copil Pella : Marius Copil is a player much like Chardy who is simply a joy to watch. He has a huge serve, a great deal of variety, and a beautiful onehanded backhand. Pella is a player without much flair but with way better results. Primarily a claycourt threat, Pella has defied the odds and grinded through a great deal of hardcourt upsets in the past few seasons. This is a match where Copil should be seen as having the edge with court conditions, but the consistency of Pella will likely make the difference if he is able to make it a physical battle. Hard to say on a grass court if he’ll be able to, and Copil has been able to pull upsets in the past when he is serving well. Pella in 5.
Wawrinka Bemelmans : Scary. Bemelmans has just been a non-factor on the tour after being a consistent 1st 2nd round appearer for 2-3 solid years. Now he’s found his way nicely through qualifying, and plays a resurgent Stan. A bad matchup for Ruben, but a nice welcome back to the tour. Stan did lose to Mahut last week, but Mahut’s game was built for grass and going deep the week before a major has never been something the top guys have done. This should be one way traffic for Stan although given Bemelmans qualifying form, he may be able to steal an early set. Wawrinka in 4.
Stebe Opelka : Stebe’s comeback trail hasn’t really offered him many winnable matches. This could be one. Opelka is so inconsistent a veteran like Stebe might be able to hang around long enough to benefit from the errors, but on grass that becomes even less likely. Opelka has probably the best serve on tour when it lands in, and probably the worst service percentages for anyone above 6’5” on tour. When his serve lands in however, it is not coming back. Stebe is not a particularly gifted returner, and his only real chance here lies in Opelka’s poor returning. While it sounds like I’m painting a picture for Stebe to win, I’m mostly cringing at the thought of the match being on Opelka’s raquet. This is a match that will either be oneway traffic for Opelka, or will be lost by him rather than won by Stebe. Opelka in 4 but I wouldn’t put a single penny on it.
Kovalik Haase : Kovalik’s protected ranking has appeared with a very lucky draw. Haase has struggled of late and seems at the twilight of his career. There are not many first round matchups that Kovalik has a chance in, and the same can be said for Haase. Haase is going to have the bigger weapons here, and the rust has shown for Kovalik in the past few events. Haase in 4 or 5.
Gunneswaran Raonic : It’s hard not to like Prajnesh’ freeswinging left hand. He has a very smooth service motion and a good attitude on court. Raonic is on his best surface however, and while injuries have really made his 2019 a complete bust, this is a warmup match. Watching Raonic serve in the early rounds at Wimbledon makes you wonder how he hasn’t won the event before and watching Federer inevitably return almost every one of his serves at 36 makes you wonder what the other guys are doing. We’ll miss out on that matchup this year, but it’ll be someone other than Gunneswaran who makes returns. Raonic in 3.
Khachanov Kwon : I don’t know a ton about Kwon but Khachanov has been hit or miss all season. What I have noticed, however, is that he tends to step up for the big events. Given his ranking, and his relatively stable place on tour, this may be a conscious choice. Wins over Struff, Kecmanovic, and losses to Berretini do represent a significantly harder schedule however, than Kwon’s impressive (most sets won by 2 or more breaks) path through the qualfying. That kind of talent and his alltime high ranking of 123 mean he does have a chance to nab a set (Karen has a habit of losing a set in every match in majors) but he won’t be able to win this one outright. Khachanov in 4.
Giron Lopez : Lopez is easy to hate while you watch him lose and easy to love while you watch him win. The guy is skillful and creative. Grass is his best surface at this stage of his career by far and he has picked up a titles in both of the past two years. He opens his Wimbledon with a match against Giron who first turned heads in the Australian Open by upsetting Chardy and De Minaur at Indian Wells before eventually falling in the third set to Raonic. An athletic player with a good forehand and a quick serve, he’s a bit one dimensional and this may give a significant edge to Lopez. Breaks are hard to come by on grass and Lopez is one of the most proficient servers on the ol Earth hair. Giron’s game (I haven’t watched the qualifiers I’ll admit) is mostly about power and when he was rushed at IW he did make some careless errors. I think given his form in the qualifiers he will definitely win a set, but Lopez should have the edge if the match gets close with his variety and experience. Lopez in 4-5.
Darcis Zverev : Man if they aren’t trying to keep Mischa on tour. How the actual fluff did he manage to draw Darcis here. The problem is actually that Darcis has the kind of wicked slices and variety that are a nightmare to compete against on grass, but the fortunate thing is that he is getting towards the end of his career. This will come down to whether Mischa is able to get profitably to net, and honestly I am not optimistic. Whoever wins is going to get tuned up by RBA. I was a big fan of Darcis in his Fed Cup heroics, and I think he is probably in better form than Zverev here. Darcis in 5.
Gojowczyk Bautista Agut : This guy RBA is the NBA 6th man winner on the ATP. While not regarded as one of the top 10 guys, he is the same amount of difficult to beat every time he steps on court, and when those top 10 guys play him he pushes them as much as anyone else. On the opposite side of the net we have Gojowczyk, who swings like his name and hits clean flat winners from anywhere. Unfortunately, he doesn’t hit as many of them as he misses so far this season, and RBA specializes in punishing this. This match will play about the same as it would on clay, with RBA targetings Gojo’s backhand and hitting as many kick serve to take him out wide and off balance as he can. RBA in 3.
Paire Londero : Londero is adding nicely to his maiden win by notching wins and battling all the way into the grass season. Paire has been the best he ever has, and appears motivated coming into a tournament with a big emphasis on serving and volleying he is one of the shortlist of most talented players at the tactic. This is the classic Paire matchup, a guy who will fight for every point and expose Paire’s impatience, but who doesn’t have the big serving to keep Paire from dictating most of the rallies. If they both show up with frosted tips expect at least one awkward article from Tennis Channel about it, and this is similar to the Verdasco Majchrzak
match in that I do think Londero has a chance if he’s able to get an early lead. I don’t expect Paire’s intensity will be able to win this in straight sets, and I’ll be taking the over here. Paire in 5.
Carballes Baena Kecmanovic : RCB has actually notched some good grasscourt wins to start the season which is an unexpected bonus for a guy who makes most of his dollars on clay. Kecmanovic had a GREAT showing this week in Antalya and for one of the first times on tour will be facing a guy with less offense than him. I’m not sure of the fatigue factor, but given Kecmanovic’s dedication on the challenger tour I imagine his conditioning will get him through at least one or two more matches. Kecmanovic in 4.
Cuevas Dzumhur : Dzumhur finally got a nice win last week over Ebden, and has another chance here against a guy who isn’t famously the most motivated on grass. Cuevas didn’t look great against Jarry, and while I’d like to write him off here, Dzumhur lacks the big serve that Jarry possesses. Dzumhur in 4 tight sets, but I would not be surprised if Cuevas pushes this one to 5, and given Dzumhur’s erratic past, this one isn’t worth predicting.
Vesely Zverev : I love it. If Zverev shows up playing passive, he loses this one in straights. Vesely’s best upsets have come on grass, and he has come through qualifying easily. A big lefty with huge groundstrokes and a powerful serve is the perfect match to get a look at whether Zverev is going to be a threat in this section of the draw or not. I’ll be honest, I don’t suspect he will. Vesely in 4.
Thiem Querrey : Woof. Querrey announced this week that his abdominal issues are behind him, and played some of his best tennis. While a loss to Fritz is not the best, he has struggled with him in the past so it isn’t completely unexpected. Thiem is coming off a brilliant run in the French Open and while he was unfortunate with the weather and scheduling, there’s no shame in losing to Nadal. Grass hasn’t been his favorite surface, but he hasn’t really struggled on it either. A big serve, huge power, and a good base of skill and variety make Thiem a threat to any player at any time on any surface. Querrey is just the opponent, however, to pressure Thiem for time and to take the raquet out of his hand on the serve. With both guys playing at a good level, this one should feature quick sets, several tiebreakers, and a section of the draw that actually looks like it will get easier each round until at least the 4th with Garin/Rublev waiting and the other section featuring dellien/milman/andreozzi/djere. Whoever loses will be disappointed here as this is just the worst 1st round for both. Querrey in 5.
Garin Rublev : Garin looked real efficient and his movement was excellent in his exhibition match against Novak. He’s had a way better 2019 than Rublev who has struggled with injury. Where Rublev has bigger groundstrokes and can get in a great rhythm, he has suffered behind his second serve (double faults at the worst times), and his temper is simply a liability that I think he’s the only one who can’t see. Garin is composed, the better athlete, and in better form. Garin in 4.
Dellien Milman : Oddsmakers have Milman sitting at about -1200. Dellien has been playing clay challengers so this is understandable, but Milman is not the worldbeater that warrants that kind of line. Dellien is a grinder, and Milman is the same. I don’t know if Dellien’s timing will be solid here, and I actually would have liked him to get in some grass practice before the event rather than kind of sticking to his bread and butter. Milman in 3, but if Dellien gets going he could make this a very long 3.
Andreozzi Djere : Neither player has shown much in the way of victories thus far in the grass season. In their previous matchup Djere was able to best him on the slow hardcourts at Indian Wells. Djere is trending upward but grass isn’t exactly his best surface, so this won’t be oneway traffic. Andreozzi hasn’t exactly shown anything that shows he’ll pull the upset so. Tentatively, Djere in 4.
Simon Caruso : Ooooh. Caruso showcased a big forehand and a solid serve at the French, and used the same to good effect to come quickly through qualifying at Wimbledon. Simon managed to wake up after a mundane early season, and looked to be finding his form on the grass. This is one of my popcorn matches for the first round, with Simon being a real slick opponent on the grass but not really having a way to just hit Caruso off the court. On the opposite end, Caruso will need to hit big shots to get through Simon’s defense and will have the chance to. Somebody in 5.
Uchiyama Sandgren : Sandgren has really been hit or miss thus far on the tour. He briefly was very fit and looked to be stepping it up but the results didn’t follow. He notched two mid-level wins in Eastbourne, and while Ichiyama might be looked at as having a better level currently after coming through qualifying, 5 sets with Kubler isn’t really tour level stuff. Sandgren owns the h2h matchup 3-0 in this one, and I do think it’s a bit of a coinflip, but this has to be a mental battle for Uchiyama. I really don’t know who I expect to win this one.
Fucsovics Novak : Tough draws are Marton Fucsovics reward on tour for about two years now. This one is no different. Countryman Dennis Novak seems to only show up for majors, and with his power and crisp serving he is a danger to anyone in the first round. This one can’t go anything but the distance with Novak’s form a great threat but Fucsovics defense and fitness being just a job and a half to hit through. Whoever wins here I expect to beat the winner of Tiafoe and Fognini so i’m excited to find out and hopeful it’s Fuscovics as he’s primed for some major results with his game. Fucsovics in 4-5.
Tiafoe Fognini : Two guys who are sure they’re better than they are. Fognini hasn’t played since Rolan Garros and there’s a part of me that thinks he won’t be making much noise at this event. Tiafoe has been having a disappointing month but has at least been active despite his losses. Whoever wins will earn a war with Fuscovics or Novak and this pleases me. Tiafoe likely has the better chance and the higher level of motivation here. Tiafoe in 4.
Cilic Mannarino : Mannarino is so very capable on grass. His forehand dips so nicely and his serving game is light years better with the aid of the swift stuff. Cilic’s reach should give him the edge here, neutralizing this. Mannarino is working with smaller weapons and it will show here. Despite some disappointing results, Cilic is still a threat and a fairly consistent performer at most majors. Cilic in 4-5 unless his backhand is unable to find the court on returns.
Sousa Jubb : A great draw for Jubb who is making his debut at a major. A great draw for Sousa who isn’t at his best on grass but has been fighting and earning some good wins the past few weeks. Who wins? Probably not Jubb. Inexperience and Sousa’s ability to make matches a physical test are going to rob him of this opportunity, but qualifying as a teenager is simply an amazing accomplishment and given Sousa’s relatively weak backhand, there is a chance Jubb could steal a set. Sousa in 4.
Delbonis Evans : Evans is having the best grasscourt season of anyone. He has gotten in a ton of matches, has had some wars and his skill level is the best it ever has been. A lot of people have been tagging him as a dangerous floater for anyone in the draw, and this is where my opinion deviates. While he’s an excellent skilled player, Evans works with smaller weapons, and has to maintain top level in every match he plays. I don’t believe he’d be favored against most of the top 50, but I was hoping he’d get some winnable matches as his variety is very relaxing to watch. Enter Delbonis. One of the biggest swings on tour and one of the most consistently well performing guys on clay, grass is something he plays but without much success. This is the perfect matchup for Evans, and with Ward/Basilashvili waiting there is a chance Evans can make a third round and get himself some valuable points he will need heading into a very difficult hardcourt season. Evans in 3.
Ward Basilashvili : Basilashvili hits one of the hardest balls on tour, and has to be favored in this match. Ward, however has some nice wins over Kudla/Karlovic/Stakhovsky this season which show he at least will be competitive in this match. Although Basilashvili lost to Fucsovics and Berretini, he represents a step up in level for Ward and it may be the end of the road here for the hometown favorite. Basilashvili in 4.
Shapovalov Berankis : Shap looked good in his exhibition against Novak and this is an ideal first round opponent for him. Berankis will be hard pressed to earn break points against Shap’s offense and Berankis profits mostly from his power and Shap’s defense will be able to negate that. Shapovalov in 4.
Tomic Tsonga : A lot of people were upset with his loss to PCB but Tomic has been trying at tennis and that, my friends, is a miracle. I expect him to try here too and to make this loss respectable. On the other side of the net Tsonga has a bigger serve, better fitness, and the lowest percentage running one handed forehand pass in the game. Tsonga Shap 2nd round should be entertaining. Tsonga in 3 or 4.
Kyrgios Thompson : The mental battle of the year for Kyrgios. Thompson will work hard and make Kyrgios do the same if he wants to win. Will Kyrgios engage and fight and “stoop” to Thompson’s level to get the work done? I haven’t seen anything to indicate that he is capable of that level of fight. I think if Thompson can stay tight in his service games, Kyrgios will get impatient and make an early exit. Kyrgios’ body with someone else’s brain could win Wimbledon, but all his antics and all his injury faking and all his talking to the crowd are just the actions of someone who is scared to try. Scared to find out how good he really is. Scared to care. Less tools, but all Thompson does is care and try. Thompson in 4 depressing sets.
Sugita Nadal : Shame Sugita did not draw someone else as he is a pretty solid grasscourt player. Nadal has bitched and moaned about the seeding and kinda ruined any chance of me cheering for him here, but this should be over in straight sets. Nadal in 3.
Nishikori Monteiro : Good warmup match for Kei and while Monteiro is a dangerous lefty, Nishikori’s backhand neutralizes the crosscourt forehand. This won’t be as simple as Kei in straights for the simple reason that his serve is semi-useless so far this season, but he should be able to get the win because Monteiro just isn’t the offensive terror that can hit Kei off the court. Kei in 3-4.
Istomin Norrie : For a big serve, Istomin’s grass season has been fairly disappointing. Expect that to continue here with the hometown favorite Norrie playing his scrappy game to good effect. A loss to Rosol and Jubb don’t inspire hope in Istomin having the serving together to beat a player on the rise like Norrie. Norrie in 3-4.
Johnson Ramos-Vinols : Johnson has a good chance to get some ranking points here. ARV isn’t much on the grass and hasn’t been that strong at all in 2019. A good serving performance has bolstered Johnson’s confidence in his last few outings and he should roll here. If the writeups seem like they’re getting shorter it’s because omg there are a lot of matches in this tournament. Johnson in 3.
Cecchinato De Minaur : De Minaur season is fast approaching as we get this silly dirt and grass behind us, and while this one on paper should be a lock for De Minaur, he had a disappointing loss to Bedene who is a great grasscourt player but a guy you should be putting away if you want to be considered a “lock.” Still, Cecchinato’s best result on the grass swing has been only coughing up one break per set against Hurkacz, and this will be one way traffic as ADM is unlikely to give up the momentum once he gets it. De Minaur in 4 but probably 3.
Struff Albot : Everybody’s adorable favorite Albot cannot seem to avoid Struff these days. On hardcourt, this is a closer test. On grass, the edge in power and serve favors Struff too much for Albot to do much more than take a set. Struff in 4.
Fritz Berdych : Another great popcorn match. With Berdych having taken much of the past few months off, it’s hard to guess what to expect here. Oddsmakers notched Fritz at -170, and this is a nod to his only real result of the year, which is his title in Eastbourne. Honestly, I would expect his run to continue, but if Berdych is healthy, this will be an epic contest. Fritz in 4 or Berdych in 5.
Andujar Kukushkin : Kukushkin will have too much variety and experience here for Andujar to have a shot at winning this. A claycourt specialist, dont expect much in the way of results from Andujar for the rest of the year. Kukushkin in 3.
Ruud Isner : Isner published one of the most awkward comments of the year this week stating that if he lost in the first round he would go home a net loser. Travelling with his family, a team of coaches, a doctor, and being able to shell out for a house within walking distance of Wimbledon is a beautiful thing and something to be thankful for, not a burden to be pointed out in the media. Playing professional tennis is a blessing, not something to be negotiated at the ol dollar table. Besides, Isner is not going to lose first round. Ruud should make it to a few tiebreakers, but Isner’s serve at Wimbledon is something that will carry him through most matches and the first round is something (barring a secret injury) that he should not experience any fatigue for. Isner in 4.
Berretini Bedene : One of the bright points of this season has been Matteo (win every single close match) Berretini. Simply put, the kid does not blink. With Baghdatis likely waiting in the second round I do expect Berretini to make a nice run here, and it will start with a good grasscourter in Bedene but a guy who traditionally does not beat the top 20-30 guys. Berretini in 3.
Schnur Baghdatis : In what may be his last Wimbledon, Baghdatis has been lucky enough to draw lucky loser Brayden Schnur. I predicted Marcos would be finding his way off the tour a season ago, but he surprised me with his ability to win matches and his exceptionally solid backhand. A quick warmup with FAA last week, and Marcos looks to make at least the second round here against Schnur who has shown promise on the hardcourt but no real results to suggest he will win this one. Baghdatis in 4.
Koepfer Krajinovic : Oddsmakers have this as a pickem and these are two very different men entering this contest. Koepfer plays mostly on the challenger level, but is coming off a grasscourt title in his last outing. Krajinovic hangs with some of the top guys on tour, but hasn’t played since the French Open. I admit I’m not very familiar with Koepfer’s game but it looks like he is the favorite here. Perhaps Kraj is injured or perhaps Koepfer is that good. I am excited for the latter and will be watching this one for sure. No pick.
Ebden Schwartzman : Diego isn’t much on grass. Ebden is just having a terrible season. Grass is traditionally Ebden’s best surface but he hasn’t done much this year, and there’s no reason to think that it will start now. Diego in 3-4.
Pouille Gasquet : As per contract all French players must play each other in every event, or maybe there are just so many of them that this happens? I don’t like this matchup. Gasquet is excellent on grass and while he’s at the middle/tailend of his career, I would love to see him playing towards the end of the first week. Pouille is a great talent and I love his aggression on the court. This is a tough match to call and when I peek and see J Clarke playing Noah Rubin and Bublik playing Barrerre below them, I kinda cringe. Pouille likely has the edge in form and Gasquet the edge on this surface, but it will be hard for either of these guys to put the other away quickly. Somebody french in 5 (probably Pouille).
Bublik Barrere : I’m still waiting for Bubliks talent to match his mental game but it’s starting to materialize. Barrere is a solid talent and has qualified at a few majors already. Bublik leads the h2h with the one win coming by narrow margin (7-6, 7-5) in 2019 but also has been playing better comp so far on the grass. A 5 set win over Liam Broady will give Barrere confidence but may indicate that his level is not quite what it is on clay. Bublik in 5ish.
Clarke Rubin : idc
Harris Federer : Federer in 3.

PSA: 2020 Tokyo Marathon charity entries open up this Monday, July 1 in the US (Tuesday, July 2 in most of the world)

A Season to Dismember

Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. Everything about it has always seemed so magical. For me it has never been about the money spent, no, it was about the love and joy you share with those around you. It's about charity and goodwill towards man as the saying goes. Nothing is more important than staying off that dreaded naughty list though.
It began like every other holiday season. Christmas trees and lights were going up and festive music was dominating every major department store. I was back at the mall with a few friends of mine from work for another round of early shopping. We made our purchases and our donations before splitting up and heading to our respective homes. I was living with my boyfriend Stanley at the time and couldn't wait to get home and show him all the early shopping I'd already finished with. He’d been out of town on a business trip for the last week and I wanted to surprise him. I pulled out of my parking lot and headed home, blasting the usual CD of various Christmas songs that I always kept in the car. I made it home just as he was coming in from his trip; talk about perfect timing!
We spent some time hanging out and talking about his trip and what I had been doing while he was gone. Then we munched the hell out of our dinners, leaving little behind in our ravenous wake. I'd somehow conned him into a relaxing night of laying on the couch and watching Christmas movies. It was one of several little marathons I'd con him into during the holiday season. The way it worked is that we'd each pick a movie, then pick a third together. I knew I was in for a lot of punishment when he'd chosen the Star Wars Christmas Special but that was nothing another joint couldn't solve. I'd decided to get a little payback on him when I chose Santa Claus Conquers the Martians! Just to give ourselves a little reprieve, we'd settled on Nightmare Before Christmas as our collective choice.
With the popcorn and hot chocolate ready, we'd settled down on the couch to watch the Star Wars Christmas Special. We groaned and laughed when it was merited, but even after a while, he regretted the torment that he'd inflicted upon the both of us. By the time it was over we were both thankful.
We stood to stretch and take turns in the bathroom afterward. Then we got some refills of hot chocolate and popcorn for the next movie. Just as we were settling back in on the couch to continue our little marathon, we both received an all-points bulletin alert on my cell phone that read:
“A person in a Santa costume continues to evade police after murdering eight people with an ax in Dayton. The attacks began at the Dayton Mall last Sunday and have since continued to private residences throughout the week.. Little is known about the suspect, but they are considered armed and very dangerous. If you see a Santa engaged in suspicious activity, dial 911 immediately.”
I showed it to Stanley, but he shrugged it off. “Nothing we need to worry about tonight. I'm sure the police will catch them soon enough.” I sighed and acquiesced. “You're probably right. I'd feel safer if we kept the porch lights on tonight though.”
He chuckled faintly and slipped off the couch, moving to the outside light switch and flipping it on. He settled back in next to me and I got the next movie started; Santa Claus Conquers the Martians! While certainly a terrible movie, in my opinion, it's still better than that damned Star Wars Christmas special!
We cuddled up, both moaning and groaning at my awesomely terrible movie decision. It was a lot of fun though, just spending time on the couch with Stanley. We were both busy a lot, so it was nice to finally have some time to ourselves. Just as the movie was ending, we received another alert on our phones. It read as follows:
“Police are still on the hunt for a person dressed as Santa that's been killing unsuspecting victims with an ax throughout the week. The authorities have discovered additional bodies in the nearby city of Riverside, bringing the death toll up to eleven. They appear to be no closer to an arrest. Once again, keep your eyes peeled and remember to dial 911 if you see anything suspicious.”
That sent a shock wave of fear through me; we lived in Riverside. I hopped off the couch and ran to the front door. I pulled the curtains aside on our front bay window and peered up and down the street. It had started snowing, but there was no sign of anyone milling about; just the occasional car now and again. While I felt a little better, the fear was still there. Stanley joined me at the window, wrapping his arms around me. “We're gonna be okay sweetie, I promise.” I balked at that. “How do you know that? I'm sure those eleven people this person has killed felt exactly the same way!” He squeezed me a little tighter. “Would it make you feel better if I did a perimeter check just to be sure?” I nodded at that, turning to look up into his eyes. “Do you think that's wise? I mean, what if that maniac is waiting just outside the door with an ax?” He chuckled faintly. “I'll be right back.”
I was torn between being worried about his safety and being pissed that he wasn't taking this seriously. I followed him to the back door and watched him pull on his coat and walk outside. I followed his progress around the house as best I could, going from window to window to check on him. About ten minutes later he walked in through the back door with a fine coating of snow. He shrugged off his coat and flashed me an award-winning smile. “See? Nothing to worry about. No one's even outside at all. I turned on the garage light just to be safe.” I nodded at his words, feeling much better about the situation.
I turned the TV input over to cable to check the news before we watched our last movie of the night, just to be safe. There was a news bulletin in progress on channel 7, so I turned the volume up. There was a woman in a power suit and a well-dressed man sitting behind a news desk. The man spoke:
“With the death toll now up to eleven, we can only hope there will soon be an end to the madness. Again, we're urging everyone to stay indoors until this person is caught. They were last sighted near Stebbins Highschool in the Valley Plat area. Cops are out patrolling en masse. Stay tuned for more updates.”
The video went back to the anchor desk at the studio before they moved on to the weather report. I glanced over at Stanley. “That's only five blocks away from here.” He nodded to me solemnly. “Getting close, that's for sure. We just have to do as they advised and stay indoors until it all blows over.”
I was on edge. They weren't reporting the names of the victims yet.. Suddenly, I realized we forgot to lock the doors!. I jumped up and startled Stanley. “We have to lock the doors and windows!” He swiftly joined me and we split up, locking every door and window on our respective sides of the house. When we were done we returned to the living room, plopping back onto the couch.
Stanley was the first to speak up. “I just realized something.” I rose a brow at him. “What?” He sighed heavily and jumped to his feet. “The door to the basement outside, I left it unlocked earlier!” I cringed at that. That door led straight down into the basement, and from there it was an easy walk up the stairs to the kitchen. Suddenly we heard a loud crash in the basement, and I darted behind Stanley. “What do we do?” Stanley grabbed the fire poker from its spot next to the fireplace and cast his gaze towards the kitchen. “Stay here, I'm going to check it out.”
I grabbed one of his arms firmly. “Shouldn't we just call the cops?” Stanley shook his head. “If it's nothing I don't want to waste their time. They're on a manhunt after all.” I still didn't like this train of thought at all. “Shouldn't we at least go together?” He sighed and shook his head again. “No, if someone IS down there I need you to be ready to dial 911.”
I supposed that made some sense, but I still didn't like it. Reluctantly I let go of his arm and watched him creep into the kitchen. I heard Stanley open the door from the kitchen to the basement and lethargically descend the stairs. It was an old staircase we'd been meaning to update, so you could easily hear every thump and creak of the boards. I stayed next to the fireplace to give myself some distance. Any moment of time I could buy myself would be more than beneficial if something were to go wrong. I damn near jumped out of my skin when I heard another loud crash from the basement, closely followed by Stanley letting out a scream. “SON OF A BITCH!” I screamed back to him, “What's wrong?!”
Every millisecond of silence that passed sent fear tingling up my spine. I was ready to run down there before he shouted out once again. “Just some damn raccoons babe! I have no idea how they even got in!”
But I knew, and I grinned to myself. I turned on the kitchen radio just in time to catch “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” I paused for a moment, thinking it odd that this particular song had been playing at each place I’d visited. I shrugged it off and pulled the old blood-drenched ax from the walk-in pantry he never looked in. I had just enough time to don the Santa costume too before he made it back up the stairs. When I saw his head enter the doorway up into the kitchen, I leveled that ax and swung for the fences. Blood and bits of bone exploded all over the Frigidaire. Stanley had been a very naughty boy.
I took off the mask and relaxed back into my recliner, flipping the TV back on and turning up the volume. I was just in time for the eleven-o-clock news; the male anchor already launching into the top headline.
“We've been following this story all week. Someone dressed as Santa Claus has been on a blood-filled rampage throughout our town. We can now report the names of some of the victims. The first body found was an elderly mall Santa named Eric Ballsey. He was found behind the Sears at the Dayton Mall. It's from him we believe the suit was taken.”
The suit was a little big on me, and I'd had to add a new notch on the fly to tighten the belt around my waist. I distinctly remember the guy smelling of cheap liquor. I'd even noticed him taking money from the collection stand and slipping it into his own pocket!
“The next few victims have caused big shocks to the local community. A true loss for sure. It was our own Mayor Rydelle, his wife Amy Rydelle, and his top advisor Matthew Smith.”
Mayor Rydelle had always been a vicious little man. He was a known racist and bigot. How he became Mayor in the first place was something many of us had wondered about. I'd found out just last week that it was due to a series of well-placed bribes that had earned him his lofty position. His wife and advisor weren’t any better. I’d eased myself into his home through the backdoor this past Wednesday after a town hall meeting and waited in his bedroom closet. I caught the three of them engaging in the most depraved sexual activities you can imagine. Needless to say, they were very naughty indeed!
“The next victim was Albert Stone, a local man convicted of rape just last year.”
A self-explanatory victim. That trial was a notorious one around the area. A few mistakes had been made by the police, and the whole case ended up being dismissed. He'd taken to strutting around town after that, and we all hated him for it. Naughty, naughty, naughty!
“Multiple bodies were also found at Stebbins High School. Their names are Jonas and Evelyn Stark, Jerry Riggers, and Shane Dempsey. Their remains were found in a dumpster in the teacher’s parking lot.”
That had been a tricky one for sure. I'd caught them behind that building smoking pot and rooting around in the dumpsters over the weekend. They were scourges of the neighborhood; guilty of everything from breaking and entering to extreme animal cruelty. The four of them were naughtier than most. I lured them to the nearby woods, high out of their minds, and took my time playing a nice game of cat and mouse. By the time I was done I had festively colored the nearby pine trees red.
“The most recent victim was Wendy Lyman. Her remains were found in her apartment.”
Ah, Wendy. I took the most pleasure in killing her. This also brings me to Stanley's death. I had proof that the two of them had been engaging in an affair for quite some time now. I lifted a copy of her apartment key from Stanley's office the night he left for his trip. I'd let myself into her apartment and caught her in the shower. Let's just say that Norman Bates ain't got nothing on me. There’s nothing like watching the blood of a naughty woman swirl down the drain.
“The other victims have yet to be identified. Police are hoping that dental records may be their most useful tool in identifying the remains. We will continue to provide information as it comes in. For now, just continue to remain inside your homes and remain vigilant.”
I shut off the TV and helped myself to some more hot chocolate. I'd played my part well and I was proud of that. I knew I needed to be caught for my plan to work. People needed to understand what happens to naughty boys and girls. I would become a new face of fear, a new reminder of what it meant to dishonor the spirit of Christmas! With that in mind, I sat on the couch and placed an anonymous call to the local police station. I told them that I’d seen someone dressed as Santa, covered in blood, enter my neighbor's house. I gave them my address as the location of “the neighbor” of course.
For some reason “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” was playing on repeat through my home stereo. Did I forget there was a cd in there or was there some malfunction with the radio? Either way, it was loud enough to drown out that voice that kept nagging at me these last few days. He'd been the one who'd helped me with my victims. The one who'd been pointing them out to me and showing me their homes. It was a strangely familiar voice that I couldn’t quite put my finger on at the time. I'd found it useful before, but now that I was exhausted, I just wanted it to stop. A woman could only be expected to do so much in one week. I found myself singing along with the music, and was halfway through the fifth twelfth repeat of the song when I heard fists pounding on my front door. I smiled to myself and answered it; happy to see six policemen at my door and eight squad cars surrounding the house. I put on my most pleasant smile as I addressed them. “Evening officers, what can I do for you?”
One of them looked at me oddly while the other two tackled me through the threshold. I remember laughing happily all the way down to the station. I wasn't in a cell for very long before they shipped me here to the Twin Valley Behavioral Center.
That's my story I suppose. It's a year later and I still love Christmas more than ever! A plea of insanity at my trial pretty much guaranteed I'd be staying here for quite some time. It's not all bad here though. I get to listen to Christmas music year-round and I'm even helping with decorations around the building! I've been making a lot of progress in my treatment, and people are actually starting to trust me around here. How else could I have grabbed this phone off an orderly and posted this story?
Not everyone here is friendly though, some are, dare I say it, more than a little naughty. I'm smiling today though because I found something out I wasn’t supposed to know. One of the resident psychiatrists on staff here, Dr. Helzberg, was also my psychiatrist for the last three years. He had been prescribing me a medication called Ibogaine to help with my severe depression, which is apparently a strong hallucinogen that’s considered to be experimental according to one of the other staff doctors. I was taken off of it immediately upon admittance to Twin Valley.
Since being taken off the drug, I’ve been remembering things. In addition to the ibogaine, Doctor Helzberg was also supposed to be conducting some kind of Hypno regression therapy. Instead, during our sessions, he would feed me information about people in town while endlessly playing that famous Christmas song “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Due to the suggestive nature of ibogaine, he slowly made me believe that these people needed to pay for being naughty. That’s when I realized that the voice I’d been hearing had been his all along. I cried for three days when I finally pieced everything together.
I'm still not sure that any of the things I witnessed these people doing were even real. I was as much a victim as those poor people whose lives I took, even if I’m not able to really let myself feel that way. I cried for each and every one of them, as well as their families, but that’s not nearly enough. No matter how bad any of those people might have been, none of them deserved to die; especially not on Christmas.
Since I took this phone, I’ve been considering ways I can start to make amends for the tragedies I was responsible for. Nothing I can do will EVER make up for what I’ve done, but I felt the urge to do something, rather than just rot in this hospital for the rest of my life, when so many people are in pain. I contacted the bank through email and asked for a fund to be set up. I’ve always done well for myself through the years, especially when it comes to my savings. I had a decent stock portfolio, and even owned the house I lived in as well. I instructed the bank to split up all of my assets to sell them off as quickly as possible. An internet search allowed me to find all the families that suffered due to my actions, so I was able to forward those names as beneficiaries of my estate.
I also can’t stop wondering how many other patients have been affected like I was. Is it possible Dr. Helzberg has been responsible for other similar tragedies? If it happened to me, I’m betting it’s happened to others as well. I promised myself right then and there that Doctor Helzberg wouldn’t get away with this. The cycle had to stop with me!
This morning I snuck into the nurse's station. You'd be surprised by the large variety of medications they keep on-site. Too much of the wrong combinations could very well leave someone in a defenseless state. I also happen to know which keys the orderlies possess to unlock certain doors. I hear they installed a new emergency fire ax in the security corridor too.
It's my turn this evening to make the hot chocolate for the staff and patients. It's part of a new program for those of us that have made the most progress. Sort of a way for us to give back I suppose. Well, this is the season for giving after all, and I'm not one to disappoint. It’s like Mother Theresa once said, “It’s not how much we give, but how much love we put into giving,” So, Merry Christmas Dr. Helzberg. I’ll never love any gift as much as the one I’m giving you tonight!

No matter where you are.....It sees you

Hydra Reloaded Alliance Tournament AAR.

Hi everyone,
My name is Bluemelon, member of the HYDRA RELOADED AT Team. I was involved in the leadership, strategy and theorycrafting of Hydra’s AT run this year. This is my second 2nd place in a row, and in AT13 we won with Warlords of the Deep until that victory was removed post tournament due to collusion.
This year, after taking a break in AT 14, Hydra decided to get the gang together for another go. There were some notable changes this year: Duncan and Garmon, notable members and Morale Officers of Hydra Reloaded were not going to take part. Furthermore, the previous head theorycrafters of Kadesh (due to ban) and Leeloo were not joining the team. This meant Hydra had a whole new leadership structure this year. Haart was still captain, main FC and the anchor of the team, but members like Nebula, Water Ubersnol and Niart Gunn stepped up and took important roles in the running of the team.
Having taken a year off, the beginning of this AT was a time of adjustment for Hydra. We managed to gather a group of 16, meaning we couldn’t do in-house tests despite trying our best to do that. We were extraordinarily fortunate to have Vydra Relolded as a practice partner, an even smaller team than ours. Vydra, despite the meme name, are an extremely skilled team, who in AT14 were unfortunate to exit when they did. They were very reliable in testing, executing their setups well and always making sure they had enough to test. Early in testing we were often punished for our theory and execution mistakes and this helped us to get back into our usual form quickly. At the request of Casper and I, Hydra also held a few early practices with Pandemic Legion. This was the first time since AT8 that Hydra practiced with more than one team.
The meta this year was fairly interesting and more diverse than some other tournaments have been. It soon became clear to us from testing that there were 3 overarching archetypes that were the most viable: drone spam, NBC core (be it with a bhaalgorn and logistics, or not), and finally the more finesse control comps that we saw towards the end. Other archetypes like turtles (tinkers) had a part to play as well, but they were much more situational. The difficult part of this year’s meta, and at the same time good from a spectator POV, was that no single archetype could reliably beat all of the others even with perfect execution. Hydra is a team that has historically preferred to make setups that give us the opportunity to out-execute the opponent. Without this ability we had to go outside of our comfort zone a bit and start playing the odds more than we have before. 3 bans made it easier to remove certain setups, however the points changes meant a lot more ships types were available for similar points and you could never guarantee certain threats were gone.

Here’s a rundown of our dramatic run for AT15.
Round 1: Templis Calsf. (45-100)
We were pretty confident going into this match, and what a match it was. We brought a heavy BC core that we believed at the time, and I do not say this lightly, was unbeatable. This illusion was caused by being late to the party: we discovered that a BC core could viable outside of Flagship Bhaalgorn comps only 1-2 weeks before the first weekend.
We weren’t underestimating Templis, this was the same archetype we ended bringing against Tuskers. It was first iteration of the setup that commentators would later call “Octodad”. However, it had not been thoroughly tested or optimised yet so we didn’t have a full grasp on the most efficient way to use it. On top of that our pre-match planning was poor.
Templis was ready to capitalize on this and boy did we get stomped. Our confidence got rocked and our morale was in the gutter. We were questioning our strength. What were we even doing in the past 2 months? We were used to 100-0 matches until the second weekend at least. Below you can see how much it hurt.

[BWARLORD] Bluemelon-07/29/2017 can u come tomorrow
Haart-07/29/2017 idk i honestly don't see a point
[BWARLORD] Bluemelon-07/29/2017 well mate, even nebula is coming back to play
Haart-07/29/2017 you don't come back from losing game 1, i don't know how we're gonna have success while getting out executed and out fc'd by roleplayers

Round 2: Paisti (100-3)
A top 6 team from AT14 in an elimination match on the first weekend. Competent pilots that have participated in tournaments since at least AT9 with affiliations to Genos Occidere from way back. Flag Bhaal, Rabisu. This was 400bn isk on the field in one match. We needed our mojo back and we were not going to lose. We won in 4 minutes against their SleipniGila rush. Confidence was still low, but at least we had a week to recover, and boy was week 2 going to be tough.
Round 3: Quebec United Legions (100-0)
Not a team that has done well historically, but a team that has been around a long time. What do you expect from team which brings heavy neut curses and ASB rooks? Virtually anything. We had brought BC cores twice now and thought it was time to mix it up and show what else we had in our arsenal. A drone spam setup like many others had brought but also with fast tackle and fast drones so we couldn’t easily be outplayed by MJDs. Quebec United Legions went for something completely different and brought a very specific counter against the setups we had shown so far: an armor setup with super high EM, thermal and kinetic resists. Our explosive drones did 80-90% of all the damage in this match. Despite 100-0 score, this match was closer than it looked. The Quebec team attempted to kill all our berserkers and valkyries before we killed their oneiros, and by the time oneiros died, we had only few remaining.
Round 4: Hard Knocks (100-0)
Hard Knocks are a decent team. The alliance is one of the richest in Eve and they have experienced pvpers. If we were going to accomplish anything we had to have a strong showing here.
We had improved our BC spam setup by this point, but not to Octodad levels, and PTSD from the Templis match made us decide to go a different route. Although it was a weaker option in this meta, we went for the patented Hydra special - Shield Flykiller. We made this comp, we own this comp. We expected to fight a drone all-in or similar, but when we landed we saw an arty Sleipnir comp with superior fire power. We realized this match would be about whether we could overcome their setup with superior control, time to earn our reputation for execution. Haart’s frenzied FCing on TS was reminiscent of Garmon as we decimated them in a clean sweep. We were starting to get our confidence back.
In this second weekend it seemed that the teams facing us were bringing things we hadn’t seen from them before to try to surprise us and so we couldn’t rely too much on past performance. By the end of this second weekend we saw that both PL and Volta had joined us in the lower bracket and it seemed that the third weekend was shaping up to be pretty rough.
Round 5: Salt Farmers (100-6)
What can you say about Salt? Their ships have no prop mods, in any of their comps. Against this kind of madness you can only pray. This tournament was going to be a marathon and we couldn’t afford to be predictable, every match we play gives our future opponents more data. Well then, let's overwhelm them with data and force them to worry about everything. We brought out one of our best comps, the famous Purple Mistress of the Shadow (2 Widow/Etana core).
As we landed on grid, they came in with a heavy BC core with double rooks and t2 frigate logistics. We started getting bad feeling about this matchup, especially as we had just finalized our rook/chameleon setup and knew how strong jamming recons were. As the fight started it turned out not only did their rooks have jams, but all their BCs dropped their prop mod for ecm too (so it wasn’t our Widows jamming our own Etana)! Our Widows were jammed often, sometimes leaving etana without cap to tank or rep other ships. Fortunately, their comp was very light on local and remote sensor boosters and we managed to eventually win the e-war battle and break their rooks before losing anything of significance. Another team with another out of the box setup to surprise us, and for a while it was a bit dodgy.
Round 6: Pandemic Legion (100-18) + Flagship
PL vs Hydra is possibly the most storied rivalry in the AT. Going into this round Hydra was 6W/5L in 11 matches, and 3W/2L in 5 series against PL, but both series losses have been in the AT Grand Finals. Likewise, this match would be fitting in any AT Grand Finals, and yet here we were, bo1 elimination. I feel that there is a lot of mutual respect between the two teams and so nothing was going to be held back.
The key to this type of match-up is to not play yourself. You have to be bold but you can’t overthink and get tunnel visioned. We hadn’t repeated a single setup so far and so PL had a lot to think about, and perhaps they expected something new. Given the bans we turned to Shield Fly again, although we had a few other options you simply can't go wrong with it.
When we landed on grid and saw their Flag Bhaal + drone spam comp we were confident. Shield Flykiller flown properly is almost unbeatable by drones and PL’s setup gave us a massive target for all our e-war. It quickly became clear that the win condition here was to put all of our control on their bhaalgorn (6 jams and 3 damps) and go through their drone ships one by one.
They still had a ton of uncontrollable damage but as they were unable to target our logistics or e-war it became a DPS race as they burned Sleipnirs down through Scimitar reps, and we tried to remove enough damage to stabilize before losing too much. As soon as our second Sleipnir stabilized in half structure we knew we had the match. Sorry to meet you so early bros.
Round 7: Exodus (59-0)
Next stop on the loser’s bracket of death, another top team known for good execution. We didn’t have a lot of time to prepare for Exodus but the conditions were right to debut our version of the fun-fun-fun comp which we call BATTLEWARLORD_TRUTH. With such overwhelming control it could outplay most archetypes if your team can execute. There’s been a lot of talk about how overpowered ECM is, but control setups aren’t simple to execute and can fall apart easily.
Exodus brought a slightly modified version of a dual Vindicator comp we saw from Tusker’s. They had an interesting take on the archetype by using tanky Svipuls with sensor boosters but it wasn’t enough, and they were losing ships while not inflicting any significant damage to our superheavy control team. As an aside, the setup wasn’t designed as any sort of counter to Vindicators but it’s especially effective against front loaded cores. This is an extremely frustrating setup to fight against and there wasn’t too much Exodus could do with what they brought, but good on them for being gracious in local.
Round 8: The Tuskers Co. (100-37) + Flagship + Malice
The winners of AT14. Why not? Par for the course in this bracket. We beat them twice in AT13 but even then we felt they could match our execution. Two years on, we expected that this could be our toughest match. They banned triple t2 armour logistics and brought a weakened shotgun archetype. No oppressive control setup from us then, but that’s ok we can play more than one style. Remember that 7BC core from round 1 that lost to Caldari roleplayers? Well here’s the refined 8BC core against the reigning champions. The MJD maneuver coupled with tackle on their neuting ships and our projection annihilated their shotgun team in a 4 minute match. Being honest, it was a bit disappointing as we know they’re better than they showed in this match.
Round 9: Pen is Out (100-59)
We had a long delay at the beginning of this match, which made us very nervous. Although we had the momentum from beating Tuskers, the roughly 40 minute delay slowed it down. However, a fair fight is better than any alternative in the AT, as I learnt to my own crushing displeasure in last years AT finals. Pen is Out were an interesting team with their turtle setups. We banned expecting to fight a Basilisk turtle and figured our 8BC core would be able to handle it. We knew we might have to wait until the heat on its tank ran out but combined with very tanky Navy Scorpions this match ended up being way too close for comfort. Despite the previous pedigree we faced, this was the closest team since Templis to beating us. We have never shouted so much in a match.
One cool thing Pen is Out did was to have supertanky no-prop bombers with 20k ehp that refused to die quickly even after losing their logistics. If we had gone for them first, we would have definitely lost. We liked this idea and borrowed it for an upcoming match.
Round 10: BO3 NCdot 2-0 | (100-48) | (38-0) +1 Rabisu
We had made it through the first stage of the gauntlet. Our first round loss meant we needed to win 8 series in a row without dropping a single match in order to get to a bo3 where our backs wouldn’t be against the wall. The breathing room was nice, but with our momentum, it turned out that we didn’t really need it.
In the first match we expected a counter play to our 8BC core from a Curse/mass tds as that’s an obvious idea to counter what Vydra beat them with. Fortunately, we knew how to outplay it as Vydra had an obsession with testing the Curse in practice. We also thought they might bring their own 8BC core at 0 with close range guns as we had been warping our own 8BC core to 0. To outplay the second possibility we warped in at 20. They ended up bringing a BC core with a Curse and we knew exactly what to do. We shot their Oneiros without locking their Curse and forced him to burn off, we waited for their rep drone swarm to be sent over to him, immediately switched to their Curse and vapourized it before they could react. Back onto their Oneiros, and in 90 seconds the match became a DPS/EHP race which easily favoured us.
After losing with an attempted counter, mass BC bans made sense from them in match 2. These bans seemed to hurt them more than us, as their meta seemed to rely on BCs quite a bit. They faced elimination and we expected them to bring the strongest version of what they had - something something with Flag Bhaal and Rabisu. NCdot fell victim to being predictable, and we guessed right with our 18 bonused+linked jammers, 7 of which were amarr. This was more than enough to suppress all their ships, which only had 3 local and 2 remote sensor boosters. It didn’t help that their bans forced them to use ships from 3 different races.
Round 11: BO3 LAZERHAWKS 2-0 | (33-12) | (100-0)
Firstly, what a run by LAZERHAWKS, especially for a first time team. They were the dark horse this tournament, they hadn’t used anything extraordinary leading up to the final weekend but their ideas were solid.
They had changed things up and brought rooks against Vydra but we decided to take a risk and keep jamming recons open and bring our own fun-fun-fun comp. We hedged our bets a bit by skewing our jammers towards caldari, so we had 6 caldari jammers total out of 18 (when skewing jams you should never go full retard unless you’re running TheSphere). This call saved us as LAZERHAWKS brought a monoracial caldari setup which turned out to be very hard to fight against. It was game of RR drone management and praying to the ECM gods. Both of our Rooks were often jammed, and we were able to lock out their Basilisk for a few double cycles. Control heavy setups are known to collapse if they start losing ships. Fortunately, we were able to stabilize even though we lost 1/3 of our jams before killing anything. We managed to start killing ships, eventually winning on points when 10 minutes expired. You guys really pushed us gf.
After such a hard match we decided we didn’t want to see their Rooks again and banned Caldari recons. Lazerhawks banned BCs. We expected them to think that we would do the same thing that Vydra did to them and bring a gimped version of 8 BCs. So we fielded our Widow/Etana semi-turtle which was heavily modified that morning to be able to beat BC spam. It was supposed to be a surprise for Vydra, with bomber fits based on the fits used by Pen is Out. Lazerhawks brought what we were expecting from NCdot: close-range BCs warping to 0 to counter our LR 8BC core. A bombing run followed up with distributed control and there was nothing Lazerhawks could do. An impressive run from them in any case.
Round 12: BO5 VYDRA RELOLDED: 2-3 | (72-100) | (100-3) | (100-48) | (76-98)
As a team we put every idea we think has merit into testing. One of the downsides of having a single practice partner is that they will see everything you test and understand all the nuances of your comps. Two small teams testing like this will always develop their own trends and metas that other teams with multiple partners will not. For example, the Tuskers/Exodus end-game comp with a dual Vindicator core and a Curse was not something Hydra had ever seen.
While we were busy in the lower bracket Vydra had blown everyone else away in the upper bracket. Using the meta developed in our testing sessions, they had managed to look almost unassailable. But now we were back (from outer space). After 11 hard-fought rounds, and 12 straight wins, the most difficult opponent was still ahead of us. We had the momentum, but they were fresh. They had almost the whole week to design counters to our comps while we still had to focus on all the other teams in our way. They also had the first half of the day to look at our strategy for indications that we had more to show. On top of that, they started the series with a one game advantage in the best of 5.
Going into this the first match we were somewhat confident that it would be a mirror which we executed slightly better in practices. Landing on grid, we found out we were wrong. They had a completely different setup which we had never seen before. We didn’t have time to understand how it worked or identify its strengths and weaknesses, while they understood our setup completely. They had a better DPS/EHP balance with superior tanks. Their setup is less flexible as a general setup but it gave them the edge in this match up. We made it close but it wasn’t enough.
Match 2 and its already match point. Our backs are against the wall again but that’s the story of the tournament for us. At least they showed us their surprise, and we still had our own small surprise. The modified Widows/Etana turtle to survive the 8BC core was meant for Vydra but we had to bring it vs LAZERHAWKS. The original version is less tanky and loses to the 8BC core as they can break the Widows through Etana reps. We hoped that Vydra wouldn’t notice the changes to the fits based on CREST data. Our surprise worked and they brought the 8BC core and primaried a Widow as in testing (this is the point where the esteemed armchair FCs on Twitch started screaming collusion for primarying a Widow). Our bombing run created chaos, and once they lost critical mass it was a clean up job.
Given the bans we didn’t have anything else to surprise them with, and we decided against reusing the same setup. We switched to our 8BC core and tried to force a mirror by banning their drakes. We were confident in a mirror but Vydra pulled out another surprise - an 8BC core with tracking disruptors spammed in the spare mids of their BCs. We played very aggressively and we managed to out-execute them in the arena, especially Niart living to win, that gorgeous human being.
In the short break between matches, we came up with an idea for beating Vydra’s drake setup with our 8BC core. Almost the entire tournament we had managed to avoid overthinking things, but here we stumbled. We tried to signal that we intended to bring ECM by breaking the racial uniformity of Vydra’s drake setup with the Ferox ban. Vydra not finishing with the expected Oneiros ban but instead banning Etana caused us to ban the Oneiros as an out of character reactionary ban. I think the fatigue finally caught up with us.
On field we felt we still had a decent shot at beating their comp. However our pre-match plan had some problems. We decided to use the rear MJD beacon instead of the central one, which makes little sense after we had cleaned up tackle. We weren’t calling the best targets and although it looked like we were trading favourably we could’ve been trading even more efficiently. The passive shield regen of their drakes made killing them difficult in the late game. Casper almost lived to win, but ended up entering Valhalla instead. o7

As sad as I am at losing another AT in the Finals (this Hydra team honestly has the most tragic history lol) I’m proud of what we accomplished. During this AT, Hydra won the most matches in a single tournament out of any other team in AT history: 14 wins in 17 matches, with a 12 match winning streak. We managed to vanquish, some in bo1s, almost every single tournament team of pedigree: Paisti, Hard Knocks, Pandemic Legion, Tuskers, and Exodus, the only top team we didn't have to fight was Volta. If you look at this list, I hope you will appreciate the talent that was overcome, the theorycrafting that was demolished, and the tactics that were outplayed. It is unprecedented that we, from a round 1 defeat, could get even near the finals in such a year of heavy competition. Not only did we manage it, but we nearly did the unthinkable.
I would like to thank the team from the bottom of my heart for such a glorious 4 weeks. Special shout out goes to Haart for carrying this team on his back, picking up the pieces after day 1 and leading us to the end. As well as to the rest of the team for all their contributions to theorycrafting, logistics, and testing: Suitonia, Xo3e, Casper24, Water Ubersnol, Nixor, Nik Domar, Nemiz, Aen Sidhe, Niart, Nebula, Delta, Miyamoto, Knifee, Robopleasure.
This years AT has been a wild ride. Thank you CCP for running the AT and providing access to the Thunderdome. To the commentators and all those who advocate for the tournament and help make it what it is, especially Eve_NT, you guys are amazing. Congratulations Vydra on your victory and thank you for being great sparring partners. Well played to everyone that competed and thanks to all of you reading this.
Bluemelon

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