With my recent foot surgery limiting my ability to walk long distances, and parking in Manhattan being non-existent, my live Scrabble play pretty much dissolved into my occasional games at bookstores with the Scrabble gang or impromptu four ways in my house. Of course, I’ve become a fiend for Scrabulous and the internet Scrabble club, but this past weekend, I was reminded that it’s just not the same.
My nemesis and ersatz Scrabble tutor was in town and we managed to play something like 16 games of timed tournament-style Scrabble.
After the first 6, I received a text saying “I’m a bit in shock that we just split six games of Scrabble.”
I don’t remember all the details, but I will admit that the first two games I won, I drew both blanks, three esses, the x and the q – at most opportune times. However, I did open the first game with the masterful find of ‘ceramic,’ and Fisch incredibly challenged satinet (a common bingo found in the satine rack which any self respecting tournament Scrabble player should have memorized.) And in case you doubted whether he played tournament Scrabble.
He also almost challenged entasis…I was salivating the whole time as he paused to think it over. Incredibly, he then didn’t challenge artesian, which is a phony and lost that game by 60 points. After suffering back to back defeat at the hands of a girl he used to abuse while watching MTV and talking on the phone at the same time, he managed to comeback with a vindictive crushing that resulted in the patented Dawn Summers throwing her tiles on the board in the middle of the game and saying “okay, next game.” Usually a 200 point deficit is involved.
The last game we grinded it out, and in the end, I failed to see the opportunity to use all my remaining tiles “i r l” to play girl and win by the tiles on Fisch’s rack and instead, he finished first and won by the two points for my remaining l. He then spent another minute looking for the play that would have won me the game and proceeded to mock me for being a girl who didn’t play girl to win.
This is why we hate him more than all others.
We played again the next night and it was yet another back to back crushing by yours truly, I opened with something cool…oh…quality! That was awesome…the whole game we were waiting for one of us to extend it with an ine to hit the triple. It didn’t happen.
His short game is vastly superior to mine. Who the hell knew Honda was a real word? Not I said the cat, but my long game crushes his. “You’d be able to find the bingo in this rack,” he’d cry while taking five to ten minutes staring blankly at his rack only to eventually play “retailer” and I’d laugh “hahahaahaha…you couldn’t find retailer in less than an hour. BAHAHAHAHHAA. I won the last game of the night and he said “You’ve never won three in a row before.”
And so after getting crushed in back to back to back games, he swore that he was bringing out his A game.
“I’m crushing you, Dawn.”
He said using the steely eyes.
And sure enough, he opened with a bingo.
“Rewinds” using an s and a blank.
I was sad. And a little worried…until I found “heavier.”
Then he played “pod”
And I bingo again with rolier.
I then drew a blank and an ess and made protons, but he challenged it off the board when I made “shep” with the p. Sad Panda.
And then he took the camera.
However, in the end, I was victorious! Though I squandered my hefty lead and ended up winning by only a few points.
So, having suffered defeat at my hands, once again. Fisch did what anyone else in his position would do.
He threw a tantrum.
Now, I’ve blogged about this before…but yes, either I just bring out the worst in people with all my awesomeness, or the best Scrabble players are just competitive bastards that will do anything to win…including studying for no other reason than they want to crush the people they play with.
“I'm not keeping score anymore. It’s taking all my time and I don’t have enough time.” (This is particularly amusing for me because when we played last Winter, Fisch always took a seven minute handicap and still won 99.999% of our games.) Ah the times, how they are a changing.
Unfortunately Scrabble apparently rewards tantrum throwers and he drew perfect against me. He opened with creation and didn’t look back. He might have had something like four bingoes that game, while I struggled to get to triple digits thanks to a string of craptacular tiles.
The games which followed aren’t at all memorable in any way (oh, he did play “bingoed” as a bingo, which, though I didn’t challenge it, is no good.)
I managed to play more phonies on him including the one that I challenged F-train on one time. Sadly, after running neck and neck for the whole weekend, I had a few bad games and ended up with a 7-10 record, which isn't too shabby for a girl who just learned to play eight months ago. But I have my taste for live competitive Scrabble play back and so I shall make my triumphant return to the club this week.
Watch your back old Fischwoman. I’ve been studying.