Scrabble Philosophy

When I was about ten, Scrabble was definitely left behind in favour of Monopoly, Cluedo and Hungry Hippos: games that did not involve being able to spell.  It became a more interesting prospect later on when I realised that I quite liked words and the how the game offered a tactile relationship with them.  I could turn over tiles in my fingers, swap them around, hoping that something incredible would emerge.

At university, we played Scrabble with one purpose: to show off how many dirty or euphemistic words we knew.  I remember one such game played while imbibing copious amounts of wine in a holiday home in Aviemore (in the Highlands of Scotland).  We knew how to enjoy ourselves in the early afternoon in those days.  How my liver survived I don't know.  That's how you know who your real friends are: friends don't take winning too seriously.

Later, in proper adulthood, long after graduation and working life began, Scrabble became a staple on camping trips, something to enjoy sitting outside the tent on languid afternoons. between reading, sleeping, swimming, drinking cold beer and performing "Flight of the Conchord" sketches.  Yes, really.  I'll admit that I've dabbled in online games, but it's just not the same.  I'm old fashioned at heart.

The way I play Scrabble possibly says a great deal about the way in which I approach life.  It's a theory I have been mulling over the last few days, while changing nappies and driving to Supermarkets.  In Scrabble I feel conflicted: do I abide by instinct and play the longest, smartest word I can muster from my disparate tiles, or do I play the word which will gain me the most points? Do I play "quixotic"because I can, or "cox" over a triple word score?  In other words, am I a strategist or a wordsmith hedonist gratified by cleverness over high-scoring? 

If I applied this theory to life, it's interesting.  If I were a strategist, interested only in optimising gain I'd probably be significantly richer and successful.  Some people can say and do the right things, whilst not necessarily believing them, and while not necessarily being the smartest knight in La Mancha, can be promoted into high-powered positions leaving behind the perfectionists. 

What's lovely is that in our precious down time between 8.30pm and 10.00pm, after the children are asleep, the dishes are done and the explosion of toys extricated from under various pieces of furniture, my husband and I can play Scrabble any way we like, striking the balance between the cerebral and the down right filthy.