Saturday 20 August 2011

Did You Feel The Breeze?

Tonight I played a few games of cribbage. It has been quite some time since I played and it was a lot of fun. I lost, which is what I excel at.

I find that watching other people win at cards is fun for me. For some reason not only does it make them happy, but they seem to think it is quite an accomplishment to win. I can see how it would be a feather in the cap if you beat someone that had a lot of skill and actually knew how to count without screwing up. I have never mastered the counting, and although it isn’t terribly difficult, I seem to have a mental block. I have mentioned before that I am mathematically challenged.

Fifteen two, fifteen four and the rest don’t score. Nirvana is 29, which is the perfect hand, five fives and a jack, I think. I have played with people that regale you with stories of past wins and all of the hands that went into that particular win. This could have been twenty years ago, but judging by the glassy eyes and the shit eating grins it could very well have happened minutes ago. I can talk trash with the best of them, and sometimes I actually win. The effect of my winning without knowing all of the ins and outs of technique; and which cards should or shouldn’t be played at a particular time, just seems to suck the life right out of my opponents. This doesn’t happen often, or I would have even fewer friends than I have now.

There was this game about 35 or 36 years ago that I remember like it was yesterday. I was playing with Louise and Brian who by all and any standard you want to use, would be my superiors in the game. They were quite pleasant for most of the evening, until I started to win. I am a great loser, but a terrible winner. I haven’t had enough practice I suppose. It turns out that people don’t like it when you mock them and laugh in their faces if they get a shitty hand. No matter how often I observe these phenomena it never seems to make an impression. So, this game I could do no wrong and they couldn’t score a point to save their lives. I would get all of the pegging points and my hands would be very good. I was well on the way to double skunking both of them when they got up and walked away! They just walked away! You can’t walk away from the best game I have ever had! Toss me a bone!

In a life where there is far more losing than winning, to have such a momentous win just ripped from your hands at the moment of your triumph, Well, there are no words for it. I still like both of these people, but I would never trust them with a state secret, a helpless animal, to call 911 or any of the many things that so called responsible people would do.

Until I get an acknowledgement of their despicable behaviour, they will remain on my “don’t trust these cheating, lying bastards” list. Since it has been well over thirty years and nary a hint of remorse from either one, I can only conclude that I will get this as a deathbed confession. I will try to be a good winner in the “who lives the longest” game, but I have a feeling that I will still be saying to them “Did you feel the breeze as I passed you?”


  1. Probably when hell freezes over.
    We used to play cribbage a lot at the cottage.

  2. Hey Ken, Am I the Brian of which you speak here? I have absolutely no memory of this happening.... were we into the Ouzo?

  3. Yes Brian, it was you. Back then we couldn't even spell Ouzo. Louise can't believe that you don't remember. It was a classic move she says. I think I have made my feelings known on the subject.