NerD&Diest Xmas Ever

 Merry Christmas, my ten of readers!

Our holidays and gifts will always be a little nerdy just because of who we are, but this year’s felt even more so than usual.

Audrey got me this cute Dice Dungeon, so I can incarcerate dice that fail me as a player.

Bryce and Sara gave us this wonderful personalized decoration for our tree, and gave the girls some scented candles shaped like polyhedral dice that I forgot to photograph.

But I was very happy with the gift Audrey and I put together for the group of us, and gratified that it was well received.

A couple of years ago, Bryce and Sara asked if I could teach them to play D&D, which I was only too happy to do. And although I had no intention at the time of running yet another campaign, we eventually folded the Tyranny of Dragons campaign I was running with the family and started Rime of the Frostmaiden with Bryce and Sara.

Bryce’s sister Jenni, a doctor doing her residency in Vancouver, was curious about playing and then her boyfriend Joe (another doctor) asked if he could watch one time. Obviously I refused, rolling up a rogue with him instead and he seemed to enjoy himself as well. Now the group has eight players, but it is rare that everyone’s schedule allows them to attend at the same time - possibly for the best!

Not too far into the campaign, set in the far North of Icewind Dale, Bryce suggested giving their group a name - something very rare from when I started playing, but increasingly common nowadays. I appreciated it because referring to the group as “the party,” “the adventurers,” or “those guys” and so on can get pretty tiresome. His suggestion of “Icehawks” met with the group’s s approval and was thus adopted.

Then I started noodling around with Word (my graphic design program of choice, solely because I don’t know any others), I came up with a logo, and Audrey and I decided to get it printed on some baseball shirts a la The Hellfire Club from Stranger Things.

We got them done up by Print Machine in Old Strathcona (delightful people to deal with), picked them up in November and somehow managed to hide them and not spill the beans until Dec 18 when we got together in Fort Saskatchewan. Bryce, Sara, Bobby and the girls were instructed to open their differently wrapped gifts at the same time, and the response upon the reveal was very positive indeed!

Joe and Jenni got theirs Christmas Day and were quick to share another group picture. Joe’s testimonial was succinct but articulate: “Team shirts are dope.”

So! The next time you are stuck for gift ideas, consider custom nerdwear - it worked out very well for us!

A Messi Finish - World Cup 2022

I am not the biggest sports fan in the world by any measure, but do root for my various home teams and enjoy a good contest sometimes even without context, but I do have an enduring weakness for international team sports.

When all the talk of contract negotiations, free agents, salary caps and whole teams being bought and sold like chattels, it can be difficult to discern the difference between the sports pages and financial section sometimes. But in an event like the World Cup, when everyone competes for a spot on the national side and then fights to qualify for the tourney and then tries to battle their way out of group and eventually lift one of the globe's most iconic sports trophies, and only get to make the attempt once every four years? That's something pretty special.

And even though the governing body is almost irredeemably corrupt and the host nation bribed their way to an economic and sportswashing victory (and tip my hat to anyone with more willpower than myself, able to boycott this event), there are still thrilling stories to be found.

Canada scoring their first goal at a World Cup in more than three decades.

Amazing upsets like Saudia Arabia beating the eventual champions, Argentina.

So much of the world lining up to cheer for Morocco, the first African team to make it to the semi-finals.

I have a number of teams I cheer for until I have to make a choice (which, tragically, seldom happens) including England, Holland, my home nation (obvsly!) and most any African team (who seem to have a lot of the best nicknames, like Les Fennecs, the Atlas Lions and the Black Stars). But as we went into the final, it was less about my cheering for Argentina and Lionel Messi and more cheering against France, the returning champions. 

It wasn't always this way - I remember scheduling our return from a trip to Gettysburg in 1998 so that a friend could watch the final between France and Brazil, with el Canarhinhos heavily favoured but les Bleus obliterating them 3-0, a true underdog victory.

But their behaviour on and off the pitch in 2010, including a player strike and the team being recalled to France in semi-disgrace, really soured me on the team. And so I have resolutely cheered against the Gallic side, despite their obvious skill, despite their many strengths, and two marvelous players like the goalkeeper Lloris and 23-year-old phenom Mbappe.

After today though, and what many commentators are calling the greatest Wrold Cup Final in the tournament's near century of existence, and possibly one of the greatest matches of football in the history of the sport, I can let it go.

I was cheering for Argentina, eager to show up the reigning champions and hoping retiring legend Lionel Messi could gain the last accolade that has eluded him, and I got that, but I got so much more.

• Exemplary football played by gifted athletes with skill and tenacity.
• Besides stars like Messi and Mbappe, the chance to marvel at the astonishing speed of Enzo Fernandes and the astounding goalkeeping of Emiliano Martinez/
• An indomitable French side which, despite rumours of a virus infecting the team, managed to come back from a 2-0 deficit to push the game into extra time, then answer a goal late in extra time to push the game into PKs.
• Fantastic officiating, with Polish referee Szymon Marciniak making bold, tough calls in a high-pressure environment.
• After a grueling tournament and 120 minutes of play,m descending into a penalty shootout - possibly one of the most feared and hated ways to end a major tournament until you realize they used to replay the entire match or decide it with a coin toss.

Football is not everyone's sport, and overall I probably prefer the pace of hockey, but watching world-class athletes run around an enormous pitch for up to two hours of virtually uninterrupted play gives them a claim on standards of endurance no other team sport can hope to match.

It also might explain the surfeit of emotions at the ends of every elimination game: players on both sides with tears in their eyes of either relief or anguish, grown men wracked with sobs, inconsolable due to lost opportunities that may never come again. 

Today's final game was an astonishing window into human competition, in all its artificiality and sincerity. It ensured a legend for Messi bordering on divinity, and has wiped away my dispassion for an excellent French squad that I have no doubt will be a force to be reckoned with yet again in 2026.

Truly a match for the ages, and a sporting event the likes of which I may never see again. Amazing!

Stout Testers

 I have a deep-seated and abiding love for sharing the things I enjoy, and take tremendous pleasure in seeing people take an interest in the thing I share with them, whether it is a creative artist, a movie or album, a boardgame I introduced them to, or even painting miniatures. 

One of the most rewarding examples though was introducing my brother-in-law Jerry to the joy of strong dark beers, particularly Russian Imperial and Bourbon barrel-aged stouts. A few Christmases back we got into some of them and they have become a perennial favourite since. In fact, since moving to Houston Jerry has made a point of picking the limited edition Goose Island Bourbon County stouts that are only available on Black Friday, and has been relentlessly generous in sharing them over the holidays and when I visited him and Tara in October.

Last year at Christmas, I was shocked when gave me a lovely gift box of a vertical tasting of Bourbon Countystouts from 2017, 2018 and 2019. Unlike regular beers strong stouts like these (e.g. 14.2% ABV) can be cellared like a wine for years, increasing in complexity as they mature. Jerry had heard that you were taking your chances once you got past the five-year mark, and had suggested to me that drinking these three lovely bottles might be something to be done sooner, rather than later.

I found two willing testers in Totty and the Rare Hipster, and when I told Jerry earlier in the week that we were tucking into them on Friday, the excitement in his voice was palpable. Quite extraordinary for someone going into the hospital tomorrow night for chemotherapy in preparation for a stem cell transplant!

Before the lads arrived, I printed placemats so that we could have all three vintages served at once without risk of misplacing a glass and having to guess which glass held which year. I had seen this done by the Glenlivet people when I won a chance to drink a 50-year-old single malt.

I decanted the beers into Kolsch glasses - not the best choice for a stout, honestly, but I felt that consistency between the vessels would be critical for identifying different characteristics - and both gentlemen in attendance commented on the rich aroma coming from the tall, thin glasses.

With little preamble beyond talking about the provenance of the Bourbon County brand and reading the copy from the back of the gift box, we tucked into the beers.

In our excitement and zeal we started with the oldest first, which was probably a mistake but WOW, did that 2017 bottle make an impression. Smooth, rich, dark, sweet and strong, with more caramel than chocolate notes as Pete observed, and hints of dark fruit detected by Mike.

Compared to the 2018 and 2019, I felt the mouthfeel was different; smoother and perhaps a touch less carbonation. But honestly, my palate is not sophisticated enough to articulate the differences between the three. I agree with Pete that the 2019 had more of the dark chocolate aftertaste I normally associate with these types of beers, but in truth, the differences in taste and texture were subtle while the flavour and nose were impactful and delicious. 

As the beers warmed, they became even more complex, with the strong boozy taste moving more forward and prompting us to savour each successive sip, and taking deep appreciative sniffs in between.

And of course, giving them high scores and rankings on the beer tracking app we all use, Untappd - apologies for not initially tagging you Jerry!

Perhaps best of all, we had no agenda beyond drinking the beers and enjoying each other's company - no games to set up, no shows to get back to. Languidly draining our Kolsch glasses gave us a long overdue opportunity to catch up at a busy time of year.

All too soon however, the Goose Island beers were gone, and we moved on to some others the lads had brought. I quite enjoyed the Robo Crow imperial stout from Sea Change that Mike had purchased upon release today (and which has a delightful label) and also appreciated the smooth Nitro Milk Stout from Left Hand that Pete had brought. I will have to try them again later, while not under the immediate shadow of something as amazing as the Bourbon County variety.

So much to be grateful for that Friday night - a generous brother-in-law with exemplary taste in beers, the outstanding stouts themselves and having dear friends to share them with. Thanks to all, and to Goose Island for making such amazing beverages!

Cold Weather Comeback

Last Thursday night saw a significant shuffling of cars and unraveling of extension cords in our household, as the overnight low approached 40 below zero, Celsius.

The Jeep that Glory drives to work at the diner was booked in for emissions recall the next morning, and the block heater cord on the Flex had been torn off somehow prior to the previous winter. This meant the older Ford needed to be brought into the garage and the Jeep plugged in out front to ensure both vehicles would start the next day (which, mercifully, both did).

Having the day off felicitated this, a trip to Costco, and the ability to pick Glory up at the end of her school day so she wouldn't have to wait at the bus stop in weather bitterly cold even for Edmonton.

Less than 24 hours later, however, it had warmed up enough that Canéla and I actually made it to the dog park for the first time this week. The cold and snow required dressing her up in her jacket and boots ("Muttlucks"), something she is not fond of in the slightest, but which was achieved without bloodshed.

The wind kept it a bit below -20° C, but once we passed through the double gate at Lauderdale Off-Leash Park, she spent most of her time there on the run, playing with several other dogs (for a change).

I've been bringing the clicker and treat bag with me to try to improve her recall, and while I don't appreciate how much more food-motivated she appears to be these days (not leaving strangers who have given her treats, etc.), watching her come running towards me is still pretty rewarding.

There are so many more important things to talk about at the moment that it honestly feels quasi-irresponsible to spend one of my weekly blog posts talking about simple successes and basic joy despite the best efforts of the cold. 

But all the important stuff - the Alberta Sovereignty Act, the growing healthcare crisis, the enabling of fascists and anti-democracy types in social media and elsewhere - they all make me angry, and there are enough other, smarter, people writing about them that taking time to focus on a happy dog running to me across the snow felt like the right choice after a really enjoyable weekend.