Bored Games

At age 13, my daughter developed the same summer-time disease that I encountered at her age: backgammon. What began for me as an idle, rainy-day activity turned into a summer long marathon of games played with a very patient neighbor.  I continued to enjoy playing with my friends in college and after more than 20 years, I still lose consistently to my ruthless, darling husband. Yet, like so many things, I go back for more. And now I have a very willing (sometimes too willing) opponent in my youngest child.

            My own mother had no interest in board games of any kind and managed to dodge my pleas to play.  I can only recall a handful of times when my brother and I could entice my parents to play cards or Monopoly with us. My dad called it “monotony” and only when I became an adult, could I truly understand this perspective.

            Summer is prime game-playing time, especially if it is raining or if the midday sun is just too strong for outdoor activities. I remember many hours in the cool, dim dining room of our neighbors’ beach house. They had an enormous old table surrounded by even older, beat up chairs. There could be up to a dozen kids, of varying ages, sitting around that table playing the game of choice for that particular time. One summer, we played Yahtzee almost exclusively. This game, created in the 1950s by a Canadian family while sailing on their yacht, is simple and addictive. You roll five dice and keep score, something along the lines of poker, including three-of-a-kind, open house, and aces. This may very well be my favorite game.

            I could not wait for my first-born to be old enough to play Yahtzee with me. It was simply impossible to convince my husband to join me in the game, so I looked to the infant for help. Finally, when he was about 4, I was able to teach him to play. Thank goodness he loved it too, and I had a captive partner. Generally speaking, he’s a pretty good sport and even today can be talked into playing a game or two with me. The bad news, however, is that he quickly developed a taste and skill for more sophisticated games, such as chess, and I simply could not muster the patience to play such things. My thrill comes from a game that is quick, simple and can be played while having a conversation.

            For awhile I was part of a group of women who held monthly game nights. We would get together and enjoy some snacks and drinks and play whatever game anyone brought. Pictionary was the big favorite and sometimes things got so loud that the kids had to call down from their beds for us to be quiet. Another group of pals taught me a card game called scat. Here, the idea is to pass around a deck of playing cards, adding and subtracting to your own hand until you get 31 points of the same suit. This was my first experience with betting and it was a blast. We could only lose the nine singles that each player brought to the game, so it was no worse a financial loss than buying a movie ticket.  Of course, the ubiquitous eating and drinking and gabbing enhanced the entire event.

            It must seem that I like to play games only with my female compadres. That is partly true. I don’t know why, but it is really tough to talk my husband and other menfolk into playing any group games. He is a killer scrabble player, but only reluctantly plays Monopoly or Pictionary. The guys prefer to hang out in the basement around the pool table. I guess women prefer brighter lighting and a more convivial atmosphere.

            One particularly telling episode in my game playing life happened a few years ago. We decided to play pinochle with another couple on a regular basis. This was pre-children, so we had lots of time to enjoy a leisurely dinner then the card game afterwards. We decided to switch partners and soon it became apparent that no one wanted me on their team (including my own spouse!). This is probably because pinochle is a game of strategy, patience and perhaps, common sense. Since I possess none of these traits, my pinochle playing skills soon proved to be too frustrating for the rest of the players. We moved on to Monopoly, then had babies and started playing Candyland instead.

            Other family games that we have embraced over the years include Uno, dominoes and Scrabble. Uno is the kind of card game that transcends age and language barriers. My kids learned to play the game while we were on vacation in Spain. They were at the kids’ club with children from Germany, England and of course, Spain. Lots of languages were skittering around that pool, yet when the Uno cards came out, everyone came together and played with a seriousness of purpose that I can only hope follows them into their adult years as they pilot our globe into the coming decades.

            Scrabble is a frustrating game for me. My husband was surprised to discover that I, a former spelling bee champion, did not know how to play the game when we first met. He set out to teach me and though my vocabulary and spelling skills surpassed his, his strategic skills outstripped mine, and it is the same today. For example, I can use all of my tiles for a single word and receive 10 lousy points for my cleverness. He, on the other hand, deftly drops one tile in exactly the right place and gathers 31 points for himself. With more than 20 years of experience with this game, he still manages to win handily, every single time we play.

            If given the choice on any Friday night between watching a video on TV and playing a good, lively game of Yahtzee, I would choose the game. I know one of the big game manufacturers was trying to market Friday night as family game night and I like the idea. Sadly, as my kids become deeply embedded in their teen years, it is more difficult to entice them to stay at home and play with their mom. I guess I just love the way a game gets us to face each other, communicate and laugh a bit, and dedicate some serious time to an activity that includes the whole family at once. I sincerely hope that I don’t have to wait for grandchildren to play games with me. Maybe if I offer to skip the Brussels sprouts on Friday, in trade for a family game and a pizza, I might just get their attention – and cooperation.