What’s Old?

It’s my opinion that people’s personalities really don’t change and, good or bad, that probably applies to me. Although I have mellowed—the idea of throwing a squidger the length of the large hall at the MIT student center (something I once did) now just appalls me.

What’s New?

Work for Global Marine, owner of 28 offshore drilling rigs located around the world. I’m the Treasury Operations Manager, which is a fancy way of saying that I make sure our checks don’t bounce, regardless of what currency they are in. I’m currently long (i.e. own) a lot of Malaysian Ringgits. Any interest?

Living Situation:

Living in the Houston suburbs since October of 1982 with my wife Nancy, son Tom (6½) and son Will (1½). Also, 2 dogs Flossy (named after my mother—same bad teeth) and Holly (got her at Christmas) and 1 cat (Thunder).

Current Winks Status, or Most Recent Winking:

I have not touched a squidger since the 1981 Continentals in Philadelphia. I considered practicing for this, but decided that my ego would be better off if I arrived “cold-turkey”.

Teams You’ve Played With:

HYTHNLBTWOC and (as a free agent) then to ZOO.

When, how and by whom were you introduced to Winks?

Who else? Sunshine!!! I was a freshman at University of Pennsylvania and I couldn’t get my computer program to run. It was on cards and was A=2 B=3 C=A+B Print C. Well, Wharton Economic Forecasting Associates (WEFA) was located down the hall and around the corner, so I went there and this guy with long hair was shooting these little plastic things into a plastic cup. He looked at my program, pointed out where I had left out a comma on the Job Card and got me involved in a squop game. He also taught me how to throw a Frisbee for many hours in the quad.

Special Winks Memories:

In roughly chronological order:

1. First and foremost—meeting Sunshine, a truly strange and wonderful person that I count among my lifetime friends. The things he taught me and the places he took me (the first time I went with him to Boston (as a freshman at Penn eight weeks removed from a rural town of 5,000) I didn’t let him out of my sight. “You’re going to the bathroom, Sunch? Me too.”) had a tremendous impact on me. It really exposed me to the world, far more than college itself. Without him, there would be no winks memories for me. Thank you for your patience, Mr. Shine.
2. 11:54 PM December 5, 1971 was the time and date of the car accident that Carl, Sunshine and I were in. For better or worse, the results of that moment will be with Carl and myself for all of our lives.
3. My winks career was blessed by having some great and very tolerant partners. Prior to that 1st trip to Boston, it had been established that my partner at the HOTT would be Dean. On first meeting he said, “And you must be Bill.” At the time, my strength and my ego was my potting and Dean was very patient with all of my antics and carrying-ons. Far more patient than I would have been.

   After several years paired with Sunshine, (including the phenomenal ’74 Continentals) I became part of the Mr. Bill Show where, once again, we had some great tourneys, most notable the ’81 Continentals.

   In looking back, what really helped my statistics is that I was not a superstar, but rather, at best, a B+ player. In setting pairings for a tournament, I was good enough so that the other pairs could not ignore me and gang up on Dean or Sunshine or Bill and yet I was not so good that there was an over-concentration of talent on my pair, to the detriment of the other pairs on the team.

   Besides being a great player, Bill R was a master at getting the best performances from me. I had some great weekends in the late 70’s as I began to stay at his house, rather than in the MIT dorms or at OAKBYTE. He could talk about his stereo set-up for days and it was always fascinating. The Saturday night candle-pinning expeditions were always one of the highlights of the weekend.

4. Having an absolutely fantastic tournament with Sunshine the year 1974 that Hyth won the Continentals as the darkest of dark horses.
5. After jumping to the Zoo, having 12 dancing girls come in to the tournament hall at MIT (they were Sue’s dorm mates), each carrying a letter of my last name. They ran into the room in order, but when they lined up against the far wall to sing a jingle “Gammerdinger, Gammerdinger, he’s our man, etc.” they were in reverse order and spelled REGNIDREMMAG.
6. In the same tournament as 5., the 1st match was billed as a grudge match, since it was my 1st game as a Zoo-ite. It was Sunshine and Severin against Bill and myself. They should have destroyed us—I think I rolled off the table twice and they went for a blitz but Severin could not buy a pot. He missed 4 or 5 pot attempts from 3″ to 6″ and we were able to win.
7. Getting to know Bozo. For several years in the mid-70’s I rode to Cornell with Dean and Jake Solomon and their friend Bozo, who, frankly, I didn’t care much for. But then one year, he took me tray-sliding in the evening on the Cornell hills. I had a great time! The trays were fast and the snow was good!. We were out there until midnight and were totally soaked by the time we got back to where we were staying, only to discover that everyone else was asleep in all the available beds. We spent the night sleeping on the kitchen floor, each wrapped in a single blanket.
8. In December of 1979, just before I moved to Texas, I was driving around New England, seeing people and doing some skiing. One stop was in New Hampshire where Bob and Mary were living. Bob was between carpenter jobs, had some free time and after some discussions we decided that he would make a modular wall unit for me. We discussed the design and then I went over to Maine for several days, visiting a cousin there. When I returned on the day before I had to leave, Bob had made progress, but still had a lot of work to do. So, after dinner we started working in the woodshop, Bob leading and me assisting. We worked all night, finishing around 7 in the morning. And as we were straightening up and loading it into my car Bob said, “I was concerned how we would work together, but I enjoyed it.” Coming from someone of his carpentry abilities, I still remain very flattered. I subsequently sanded and varnished the unit in San Antonio and it remains the prominent piece of furniture in our living room.
9. The 1980 Continentals
   
   1. Scott Hirsh and I met (he from San Francisco, me from San Antonio) at JFK Airport at about 4 AM. We rented a car and started driving through a snowstorm to Cornell. Somewhere in Metropolitan New York, we came to a large Y intersection in the freeway. At that precise moment, the radio commentator said something about winks. Scott, confused by the intersection and flustered by the winks comment, began to brake the car, throwing it into a sideways skid heading straight for the abutment at the split in the Y. I turned to Scott and (as I remember it) calmly said, “Take your foot off of the brake”. He did, the car immediately snapped around straight and we kept going.
   2. Scott had always wanted to compose a winks song with the closing lines “Open up your Willard Straight, Continentals here we are!” So we did. We practiced it over and over in the car and gave one hitchhiker an absolute shock when we began to sing. (Enclosed are all the words). We entered the hall and sang to rousing applause.

      And finally, (and this is the Weed in me):

   3. What in my mind is, without question, the hands-down winner for the single greatest shot in NATwA history. It is the last shot in the last round of the last game of the ’80 Continentals. Going into the last three games of the tourney, any one of 3 teams could have won it, the Zoo, MIT or Cornell(?). As I remember it, (Sunshine can provide exact facts) in the 3 games, which were all Cornell-Zoo, Zoo won the tourney if Zoo got eight or more points; MIT won the tourney if Zoo got between 4 and 7; and Cornell won if Zoo got 3 or less. (or something like that). Zoo quickly lost the first two games getting (as I remember) 1 point total. Thus Bill and I needed to get 7 to win. Through a combination of good play and strategy on our part (mostly Bill’s) and poor strategy on theirs, we got 5 of my winks in during the game. My 6th was squopped, but Bill freed it, about 4″ from the cup, in the 5th round. I ended rounds so I had but a single try to pot it. If I made it, Renke would pot his winks in the pot-out to get the 7. If I missed it, the game would be over and MIT would win the title. There were 20 to 25 winkers around the table. I went down to the table, flicked my wrist a few times, and then put it in, the wink landing squarely in the bottom. And I smiled. The sad part is that our opponents never played again. Bill raced home behind me and we got the 7.

Cosmic Impact of Winks on Your Life:

On reflection, I think every boy or girl in America who has played competitive sports harbors a secret fantasy of hitting the winning home run with 2 out in the ninth of the seventh game of the World Series. Or throwing the touchdown pass in the Super Bowl. Or shooting the winning basket at the buzzer in the NBA finals. Or whatever their sport is.

I was fortunate enough to have that opportunity to be the hero, to be the star, for at least a moment among a small group of people one February afternoon in 1981 in Ithaca, NY. And I was lucky enough to make it.

The recollections of that moment of jubilation, of pride, of tremendous self-esteem, of “I did it!”, will be with me for the rest of my life. And, it will also always color my feelings to winks and to the people I met through winks in the warmest shades of affections.

Footnote:

In proofing this and reflecting on it (now that the house is quiet- it’s just before 2 am) it occurs to me that my commitment/ involvement with winks and the people in winks was probably reinforced by the time and effort I had to commit to attend tournaments. (Maybe it’s the other way around). A tournament in Cornell or Boston would require from Friday afternoon to late Sunday night with at least 12 hours of traveling. For me, there wasn’t such a thing as a one-day tourney or showing up in the afternoon to play a few games and then leave. Maybe that’s why I never minded 12-game (or even 15-game) tournaments. Playing winks was the reason I had done all that traveling.

CONTINENTALS HERE WE ARE!

By Scott Hirsh/Bill Gammerdinger

Continentals here we are!
Snow and sleet can’t stop our car.
We’re flying, we’re driving
We’re Ithaca-bound.
No stopping our squopping
We can’t wait another round.

Though we are two hours late
We will still be playing great.
Open up your Willard Straight,
Continentals here we are!

February 1980

Sung to: “Open Up Your Golden Gate, San Francisco, Here We Are”
(Whatever that song’s name is)