He never came across as a bully. She spent a lot of time belittling him and engaging in personal smears. Holt played that angle to some degree as well.
I wish he had responded with more specifics about her shenanigans.
And in light of all the recent focus on her health, I’m waiting for her minions to bring up the numerous times he took drinks of water. Didn’t see her “rehydrate” at all.
Mr. S’SSS and I felt she left a more positive impression than we expected. For viewers who don’t know the truth of who she is, we were concerned. We don’t think Trump lost any supporters tonight but we think she may have influenced some undecideds in her favor. Hopefully, he’ll change that dynamic next time.
Just a little anecdote about my young teen years. I had an uncle that loved to play pool (billiards for us snobs).
When I was visiting my grandparents I would get bored at their home. Uncle would take me downtown (a small town back east) to the pool hall.
He would watch people play and I would sit and be as bored as ever but would stay attentive.
Uncle would watch and when there was a local champ that would emerge Uncle would step up and ask if he could take a shot at it. The champ would say sure and Uncle would proceed to lose badly. There were side bets of $10 under the table as playing for money was considered gambling and was strictly illegal. This was back in the sixties so $10 wasn’t small. My parent’s mortgage payment was $142 a month.
My Uncle would meekly ask to try a second time and the ‘champ’ said rack ‘em up! Uncle started losing again and I looked around the hall and over at the bar. The barkeep was wiping glasses and would sneak a quick look at Uncle now and then. When he saw me looking his way he smiled back, turned and looked up at the ceiling whistling some tune. There was another man sitting down at the end of the bar that I recognized. It was old Harvey who Grandpop and Uncle would play Gin Rummy with at the Firehouse. Harvey was smiling and had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from breaking out laughing. I didn’t understand what was so funny.
My Uncle lost that second game pretty bad but not as bad as the first. Now he was out $20 and he started cursing that his wife was going to hang him out to dry if he didn’t win that money back. He looked my way and winked while passing his index finger over his lips to let me know to stay quiet. I knew something was wrong because Uncle didn’t have a wife.
Uncle continued looking like he was going to face hell as he pulled his wallet out and looked in the fold. He grew angry as pulled out the only bill larger than the two $1 bills he had in there. It was a $50 bill. Few people carried $50 bills in their wallets that I knew and this was maybe the 2nd or 3rd time in my life I had seen one.
Uncle looked at the ‘champ’ and said he wanted another round bad but whispered he couldn’t let go his $50 (and he couldn’t break it at the bar because it was illegal to play for money in the hall).
The champ stepped up and said he could break Uncle’s $50 for five $10 bills. Uncle looked so confused and troubled. He said he didn’t know what to do. He’d already lost $20 and if he lost another $10 he might as well not even go home. Besides he said, wife knew he had the $50 bill which was the monthly grocery money and she wanted it. If she didn’t get that $50 bill she would think he’d been out drinking with it.
The champ looked at Uncle and said “treble bet”. I did not quite understand what it meant but later learned it meant that if Uncle won, not only would he win $50 but he would win back each of the $10 from the first two games.
Uncle looked at the champ, then looked around cursing “damn woman!” in reference to his fictitious wife, and said “rack ‘em up”!
Uncle broke and sunk the 7 into a corner pocket. Calling out each shot and chalking his stick on each round he sank the 3 into a side pocket, then a bank shot to sink the 5 into a corner, the 4 banked into a side, the 3 on a combo into a corner, the 6 on a slow glancing shot to the side, the 1 on a combo bank shot into a corner and finally he called the 8 into a corner and caused it to do a slow roll right to where he called it.
Uncle reared his head back, placed his stick on the table, reached down to the side table, scooped up all the cash, walked quickly towards the exit door and half way looked back at the champ saying “Thanks for the games! It was real nice playing with ya!”
I had to almost run to catch up with him outside. He took me down to a drugstore where they had an ice cream bar and bought me a chocolate soda.
I learned it’s good to lose. It’s even better to lose twice.