"I’m not sure where this lack of trust comes from."
–Grant Smith
Season five was our biggest and best year yet of Windy City Weasels Diplomacy. Fittingly, it ended yesterday with our biggest and best Weasel Pyle yet.
A total of 26 players participated, and thanks to Nate Cockerill and Matt Sundstrom who volunteered to play on two boards each, we fielded four on the day. Here’s the rundown.
Game No. 105, ended in Fall 1910.
Austria (Martin LeBreton): 0; 4 points.
England (Grant Smith): 12; 156 points.
France (Bob Moore): 0; 8 points.
Germany (Jim O’Kelley): 4; 52 points.
Italy (Peter Yeargin): 5; 62 points.
Russia (Michael Bartlein): 7; 82 points.
Turkey (Bob Kramford): 6; 72 points.
Game No. 106, ended after Fall 1915.
Austria (John Gramila): 9; 110 points.
England (Matt Sundstrom): 0; 7 points.
France (Mike Morrison): 0; 15 points.
Germany (Nate Cockerill): 13; 176 points.
Italy (Aash Anand): 12; 140 points.
Russia (Peter Lokken): 0; 8 points.
Turkey (Tony Prokes): 0; 5 points.
Game No. 107, ended after Fall 1914.
Austria (Eric Brown): 0; 8 points.
England (Greg Duenow): 10; 112 points.
France (Dan Burgess): 8; 92 points.
Germany (Pete McNamara): 0; 10 points.
Italy (Andrew Bartlein): 5; 62 points.
Russia (Christian Kline): 1; 22 points.
Turkey (Sam Bassett): 10; 112 points.
Game No. 108, ended in Spring 1907.
Austria (Amanda Baumgartner): 0; 4 points.
England (Christopher M. Davis): 0; 5 points.
France (Christian MacDonald): 9; 102 points.
Germany (Nate Cockerill): 6; 72 points.
Italy (Matt Sundstrom): 10; 132 points.
Russia (Paul Pignotti): 7; 82 points.
Turkey (Adam Berey): 2; 32 points.
Click here to see the supply center charts.
In addition, host Eric Brown provided commemorative pens for all the players, plus special pens for the following Weasel Pyle V performances:
Best Austria: John Gramila
Best England: Grant Smith
Best France: Christian MacDonald
Best Germany: Nate Cockerill
Best Italy: Aash Anand
Best Russia: Tie, Michael Bartlein and Paul Pignotti, with the award going to Michael for not violating the Prime Directive.
Best Turkey: Sam Bassett
Kit of the Litter (Best New Player): Bob Moore
Most Tenacious: Mike Morrison
Most Mercurial: Sam Bassett
Most Ruthless: Grant Smith
Most Dominant: Nate Cockerill
Now, let’s hear from the Pyle participants in the Comments section below.
This Post Has 3 Comments
First of all, what an amazing Saturday it was, spent at Eric Brown’s place in Wayne! I couldn’t think of a better way to have ended the year. Thanks to Eric for hosting and providing an unlimited supply of food and drink as we dragged our games along for hours on end.
End of Game Statement for Italy in Game 106:
As Italy, I decided to stick in the Eastern Sphere right from the start, and hopefully complete a lepanto. I’d driven down with Mike Morrison and since we’d established a rapport of sorts, agreed that as France and Italy, we’d go our separate ways. Another important partnership was forged with John, who as Austria, agreed to work towards eliminating Turkey with me. John did some great talking when he formed a separate alliance with Russia against Turkey as well. Unfortunately for Tony Prokes (Turkey), we all ganged up against him. In 1901, he built A ANK. This, combined with his only fleet stuck in BLA convinced me to push for the lepanto despite the open stab possibilities in Austria. In 1903 I still had only four dots, but a fleet in EAS, and an Austrian fleet in AEG. By 1905, Turkey had vanished, and Austia was up to eight with CON, RUM and BUL as well. Meanwhile, in the West, a Franco-Saxon alliance had all but eliminated Matt Sundstrom as England. He was stuck with a lone fleet in NTH, which ended up in BRE at the end of the year as France saw my fleet builds and decided he’d keep England alive and use the extra fleet against me. France and I stalemated soon in the Mediterranean and so I stabbed Austria, who stabbed Russia, who was attacking Germany, who was attacking Austria, while being snuck up on by France. For about five years everyone traded dots with everyone else and mass confusion reigned until Austria decisively took out SEV and WAR, almost eliminating Russia from the game. A stray Austrian army had made it to England (BOH-MUN-KIE-DEN-EDI via convoy by German F NTH as some sort of compromise). Then the plan was to take out France and do a 11-11-12 3 way draw. Austria would get all his existing centers plus England. Germany and I would split France. We roughly did this, but along the way got sidetracked by tensions between Austria and I in GRE/BUL (which I owned), and an army I’d left behind in Turkey which I moved to ARM a few times. Germany also took the English dots away from Austria at some point which I remember to have been a major point of contention. At the end of it all, I think there could’ve been a 2-way draw as we were all getting along fine and any two of us could’ve taken out the third. But it was midnight so we decided that once I’d gotten Iberia and Tunis (which the Franchman had vehemently protected, disbanding everything behind it, right until the end), that we’d draw.
I arrived at Eric’s longest running event in Chicago Diplomacy with teeth a chattering as Nate Cockerill pulled up behind Aash, M. Morrison and myself in his Plymouth Mountebuke special PT Cruiser. Nate had the head of a horse clenched in his teeth, (he explained later that he had a run in with the sherrif). Shaking it off into the mosquito infested marsh of Wayne, IL, (which is a pond where the poor trailer folk wash their clothes, apologies to Ma and Pa Kettle!), Nate farted and kicked M. Morrison in the groin. Wow, the competition was fierce this year I pondered in my wee squirrel brain. Luckily I was wearing Jim’s spare panties for good luck. As we all turned and absconced the cinder blocks to Eric Brown’s pole barn / moonshine still / coyote scab bucket pit, Aash accidently knocked over a pitch fork and as it fell knocked out the last lonely tooth of Eric’s pet cocker spaniel pitbull mix Timmy. We all gulped the stale band-aid smelling air and pushed M. Morrison ahead to knock on the barn door. Luckily M. Morrison had just eaten a bunch of cabbage and felt no pain as his knuckles scraped the cheese grater window.
The door was opened by E. Brown, retired Naval Admiral and Gold Medal Javelin winner in the ’36 Berlin Olympics. His mind was sharp. He gazed upon us as sniveling recruits and barked, ‘Attennnnnn-SHUN’! We all clamped our butt cheeks together in unison sounding a flabby clap that caused the fleas on Timmy to jump.
Weasel Pyle 5 was soon started and the boards were called.
Board 107 included:
Admiral Brown, who you’ve already met. As Austria.
Andrew Bartlein. Andrew is a student of Ninja-To at Winnipeg University. He wore all black and had on those weird boots with the toe seperators. He played Italy.
Dan Burgess. Dan is an unemployed butcher who will come to your house and slaughter your hog for you. His knife is very sharp. Dan was France.
Sam Basset as Turkey. Dr. Basset is a professor of Sartre Studies at New York University. He is the premier German Translator of Sartre, and in addition he loves to collect Precious Moments dolls.
Pete McNamara played Germany. Pete is hands down the best anarchist florist in DuPage county.
Christian Kline was called to play Russia. Mr. Kline is an avid skier, loves running in the park, quiet dinners by candlelight, momosas with brunch, pedicures in Tahoe and Earl Grey tea – Hot.
Yours Truly was set to play England.
EOG to follow…
I’d like to interject here to make a correction to Greg’s statement. I did not in fact knock over a pitchfork. While trying to avoid a suspicious looking cluster of brown pellets, I stepped into the slush, awoke the alligator sleeping there, who proceeded to snarl, releasing a foul smell that sent the birds into the heavens. This caused the sky to darken forebodingly and the wind to pick up, creating the impression that lightning would strike next and the earth would shudder. A few seconds later, a pitchfork fell from the sky and almost killed Nate, who was scratching an odd place in an irritated fashion. I suspect it was Eric that threw the pitchfork in cunning jest, but who knows, it might have been Thor, who, since his forced retirement due to the advent of Christianity, has taken to gardening.