An Abbreviated Play-by-Play

So the Atlantic City tournament has come and gone and, boo-hoo, I didn't win.  I will confess - I came in 59th out of 160, not that I am counting.  But the scores are printed in cyberspace, as Arlene said, for all to see, for eternity.  You can see it by clicking here -->  Tournament Scores

I do not feel so badly, however.  It was the tightest tournament I have ever played in.  It is obvious to me that the bar has been raised.  The top score was Gail Zuckerman with 875 points.  Yes, you read right.  That is the highest score I have ever seen for a weekend tournament and I really tip my hat to this formidable player.  Certain people seemed to be on fire while the rest of us slugged it out for 59th place.

Some things that I noticed:  People are going to mahjongg school.  Many of the players in AC did not learn from their grandmother or peeking between the bannister and watching Aunt Tillie.  No, they shelled out for lessons or signed up in their communities for a structured program, and it showed.  There were numerous wall games, extremely defensive playing and a strict adherence to the rules.  Great to see, but oh, so hard to win!  I'm starting to tell the difference between those who graduated from Linda Feinstein's Manhattan Mahjong Club and those who learned at the 92nd Street Y.  And those Hadassah girls really stole the show.  A great first time showing for the gen-Ys.


Another thing:  The scoring made a difference.  At the Mahjongg Madness tournaments, you get a minus ten if you throw in to zero or one exposure, minus 20 for two or more.  In other tournaments I've played in you are not penalized for throwing in to zero or one, but get minus 20 for two and minus 30 for three. As a rule I play a less risky game in a tournament because every point counts, but of course if there are no exposures you don't know what tiles are risky.  It's always a surprise when someone mahjes early and you are minus 10.  You would think the scores would be lower because there would be more minuses, but from the high scores you can see that's not the case.  Some players griped about this rule, but there is always a penalty for throwing mahj, even when someone has no exposures you still have to pay them double.   That's another poll question:  Should a player be penalized for throwing to no exposures?


I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.  My SO has taken the cat, the birds and his cigars and fled to Florida, leaving me with an empty house to fill with mahj, and I plan to.


Happy mahj!

A Mahjongg Parable

Once upon a time there was a mah jongg playing family called the Hills; Joanne, an inner-city teacher in her early 50s; Joan, her mother, a retired human resources administrator, and Jane, her daughter, a 28-year-old unemployed Iraq war vet.  They were thrilled to be invited to play in a lower Manhattan community center with some gals they had met at a tournament; Mavis Lehman and Leona Morgan.
  "We play a $20 pie," Mavis said.  A little steeper than the Hills were used to, but it was their chance to play with the big boys, and they accepted the challenge.
"League rules?" Joanne asked.
"League rules!" said Mavis and Leona.

So they trekked downtown on a cold Sunday and took their seats at the table.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," said Leona.  "We add a zero to the value of the card.  So a 25 cent hand is 2.50.   And if you roll a double and you win it's double.  If it's a wall game we put $1 in the kitty and the next one to win gets it all."  It was a little late to back out now, and it was a $20 pie, so the game started.

The playing was tough.  Mavis won the first game, a self-picked quint hand that paid $8 all.  Then two wall games.  Then Mavis picked mahj on a 25 cent hand, which paid $5 all plus $10 from the kitty.  Then another wall game. Then Leona won one, a 25 cent consecutive run which paid $2.50 from the Hills, $5 from Mavis plus another $5 from the kitty.  The pie looked like this:

Suddenly Mavis got up, put on her coat and said, "It was nice playing with you gals.  I've got to go now."
"What?  You can't do that!  You won almost all our money." said G.I. Jane.
"I'm quitting while I'm ahead," Mavis said.  "There's no rule against it.  Call the League if you don't like it."  Whereupon she scooped up her coin-laden mah jongg purse, put on her chinchilla wrap, got into her little Maserati Quattroporte and drove away.
Leona was shocked, and said.  "My friend, Barbara Goldman, is a trustee at the League.  I'm going to call her and see how to handle this."
"Call the President," said Joan Hill.
"It's a Sunday, but Barbara has the President's ear."
She called her friend and explain the situation, then waited on hold.  After a few minutes Barbara Goldman returned and asked to be put on speakerphone.  The girls gathered around the phone.
"Here's what you do," she said.  Now, the Hills have $1.50 apiece, right?  Each of you must take a dollar and give it to Leona."
"What?  Why should we?  She already won some and has more than she started with, said Jo Hill.
Ms. Goldman paused, then said, "......blah, blah, blah.....we can't let her fail, and you will have the opportunity to win back your money several times over, just give it time. But no more playing ten times the card. And by the way, Leona, we haven't received your contribution yet."

So the four players returned to the table.  The Hills, always law-abiding citizens, did as they were told and gave $1 each to subsidize Leona.  They played a few lackluster games, with the same 50 cents going back and forth between Leona and Joanne, after which the gals called it quits and headed back to Main Street, vowing never to return.  The final division of the pie looked like this:

Happy Mahj for those of you who can still afford to play this Thanksgiving.
We are the 99%.