TUESDAY THOUGHTS: GAMES

I had a great conversation with my best friend a while back. 

Somehow, we got to talking about games, and the danger of assuming that one either doesn't know how to play, or isn't hip to the rules.

 

I told her that I've never been exactly competitive. She already knew that. 

Ever since childhood, (or maybe as a result of things I experienced in childhood), playing for fun has always been my preference. 

Even if I'm watching a game, no matter the sport, I don't root for any team in particular. 

I appreciate good plays, fairness, sportsmanship, and skill-- no matter who demonstrates it. 

If the home team wins, that's just a bonus.

 

I think the keys to playing a game are that everyone involved knows upfront that it is one, and everyone plays by the same rules. 

If one is not too sure how to play, maybe they should watch from the sidelines until they get the hang of it. 

It's a wise thing to know when you're in over your head, and playing in the game is not your thing.

It's also important to know, and heartily accept when the game is over, so as to not exert any unnecessary effort. There's no sense in scoring points that don't count. That's just called practice. 

Practice is good, but it's not the game. Practice prepares you for the game. 

You may not want to play, but if you're gonna play, (or even if you find yourself somehow caught up in the game), in order to survive, you have to be able to recognize the fakes, sneaks, reverses, penalties and fouls. You want to be smart. You have to protect yourself. 

The game prepares you for the stuff that really matters.

As a kid, in my mind, life or death were never at stake, so I didn't see the need for getting loud, mad, critical, or talking trash. That kind of behavior always seemed to cast a dark cloud over the game. Some of the trash talking was funny, but some folks just didn't take it well--especially if they were losing badly. 

You just knew that no matter who won, it wouldn't end well. 

Games were never personal (until I grew up and found out that there's a wide variety of games people play that require no boards, dice, pieces, fake money, balls, bats or nets. No. These games involve vital organs and the rules change without warning).

 

I never understood how something that started out lighthearted and happy,  could turn into an all out war which prompted shouts of, "Dag ya'll. It's just a game!" 

Others played for sport, while another group played for blood. 

For some, it wasn't just a game. 

You wondered why. 

How did feelings get hurt? 

How did people stop speaking? 

How did friends become enemies? Over a game? 

 On playgrounds all over the world in every language someone decides, "I'm not playing with you anymore. You don't know how to play". 

Or the more contemporary "It ain't that deep".

Usually, the person who started the game, controlled how it was played. 

Everyone was always at the mercy of the owner of the tools of the game, if there were any. 

However, no matter how each person played, who started it, or who brought the ball, you always knew when the game was over. 

You may not have liked that the game suddenly ended-- maybe because street lights had come on (the universal signal to go inside your house), or that someone was just tired, or got bored, or mad or hurt, but when it was over, you knew it. 

Either someone took their ball and left, or the ball got lost, deflated or stolen. 

Game over. 

 Maybe the teacher, who wasn't even playing, walked in the midst of the game and said, "Line up now". 

No one had to step in and say "time". 

It was clear. 

Perhaps because things were getting too heated, someone just up and said, "I'm not playing anymore", and walked away. 

It may have been that someone got tired of being criticized for making costly mistakes which would guarantee their team a loss, so they faked an injury. Nobody wanted to keep playing if somebody was hollering and limping, or rolling around on the ground in agony. That wouldn't be sympathetic. 

If the game required a specific number of players, even one person's departure, for whatever reason, meant the game would be improperly played, or it would be useless to continue. Things just didn't feel right. Rules didn't work. Everyone lost their enthusiasm. 

Unless someone else stepped in to play, or the player who left changed his mind and got back in the game, the game was over.

 

On that rare occasion when it was just clear to everyone that the game was never going to end, a unanimous decision was made. 

"Okay. This is getting ridiculous. Let's stop playing". 

It's like the end of a scrabble game when everybody is sitting there with consonants and no vowels. "Ya'll wanna call it a night?"

The worst thing in the world was watching one lone person, who hadn't even wanted to play in the first place, holding the ball and trying to get everyone else to keep playing. "Come on ya'll! We got ten more minutes!" 

They'd gotten caught up in the game and were actually enjoying themselves. It was serious. 

There was strategy to be mapped out. 

Skills to master. 

A reputation at stake. 

They were in the lead. 

All of a sudden, with no warning, the game was over, and there they were. 

 No explanation. 

No score. 

No plans for when the game would continue. 

No idea if they would ever even play again. 

So, they'd stay on the field or playground and bounce, and throw and kick the ball all by themselves just to feel as if the game was still going on--just to see if anyone would reconsider, and start it up again. Everyone around them would be playing down the whole scene. "Look at that nut. Ain't nobody even playing no more." 

It was bordering on cruelty. 

Fact is, it was just a game to everyone else. 

Some games were never meant to be played alone, so it doesn't make sense to play solo and think you're going to get decent results.

I was reminded of the JUMANJI story. 

Two kids find a game. 

They start to play, then decide to quit. 

The game, however, keeps playing. 

A serious ball is in motion and they don't even know it. 

The little boy says something like, "It thinks we're still playing". 

The game has control of them, and they're forced to play. 

The game demands their attention. 

It's not allowing anyone to walk away. 

Other people get caught up in it. 

They have no idea a game is being played. 

Valuable time is lost. 

Wild things, that have no logical explanation, begin to happen. 

Secrets are kept. 

Damage control is needed. 

Someone concocts a good story to cover up the truth about the players. 

A game was being played,  and it got horribly out of hand. 

 This time, though, it can't just end abruptly. 

This game won't allow the players to leave a mess, cause confusion, and just walk away. 

The players find out the hard way that they have messed with the wrong game. 

The game is teaching the lesson, and is in control. 

The players just look stupid. 

This game wasn't concerned with keeping score. 

It was a life or death thing. 

Play the game wrong, and the players could find themselves transformed into something they didn't recognize, lost in a place with no way out, or literally scared to death. 

What looked like fun, wasn't.

 

In the end, the players realize that they have to finish what they started. 

The players got played. 

The game demanded a conclusion, or it was just going to keep playing until everyone involved was "out". 

The players didn't want to, but finishing the game was the only way for things to get back to normal. 

The story ended nicely, but no one was in a hurry to play, or be played again. 

Wisdom and experience dictated that the game be buried before anybody else got hurt. 

Many a broken, bruised, bloodied person has been caught by surprise, and in disbelief, asked a culprit, "Why did you DO that?" 

The always piss-poor, unacceptable answer was, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I was just playing".