Memoirs of a Geezer
Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!
This Episode: An Homage to Cribbage... All A-Board...!!
There are those of us who play and enjoy card games as if the activity were a kind of religious ritual, a passion, a necessary endeavor to ensure one's salvation or the attainment of true bliss. And, there are those of us who have never quite embraced the apparent joy of playing cards and the many variations that lure the faithful to green, felt-topped altars and smoky recreation rooms or basement sanctuaries.
Of course, there are exceptions. Cribbage, for example. GeezerHood, my current state of being, is a fine time to to haul out the cribbage board, I must admit. And frequently!
My family was and is devoted to the splendid game of Cribbage, a game of counting 15's, double runs, pairs, three and four of a kind, the fine art of "pegging..." There is a degree of skill, but the cards dealt are of paramount importance if one is be the first to travel successfully along the 121 peg holes on the classic board.
My brother claims to be among the world's finest cribbage players, if not THE finest! He scored a 29-hand during his illustrious career, the highest point total one can achieve when playing the game -- three 5's dealt along with the "right Jack," and then the fourth 5 is cut, and is the same suit as the Jack! My father and paternal grandfather (both now deceased) laid claim to the "best player" title. Perhaps my dear brother feels entitled to be heralded as heir apparent to the throne. Our dear friend, Jimmy J., would argue the point.
Somewhat recently, perhaps seized by a didactic fit of semi-lunacy, I asked my beloved grandson, Seany, if he'd care to learn the game. He agreed. I taught him the rudiments. In our first outing, the little scoundrel actually "skunked" me. The term applies to beating an opponent by 30 points or more, the number that constitutes a "street" in the game of cribbage. There are four of them, perhaps needless to add, given the information offered in paragraph three of this writing. There are also "double skunks," one of the ultimate humiliations one can endure when playing cribbage.
Seany seeks to play his Uncle Kris, my brother, and hopes to "skunk" him. When informed of this outrageous suggestion, Brother Kris responded, "The kid's a real dreamer..."
There's a certain kind of hubris that attaches to the game, as many self-described astute players, or "experts" or champions, feel themselves so extravagantly superior as "masters of the game" that any upstart who might deign to refute their claims are forever labeled "anathema"! (Deserving, perhaps, of "excommunication" from the exalted playing fields of cribbage!?)
My grandson has truly fallen in love with the great game of cribbage, and frequently asks me or his Baba (grandmother / SweetHeart) to make special dates to play a game or two (perhaps three, in case players need to determine the overall winner by means of a rubber match!) He now controls possession of my favorite cribbage board. I fear it may never return to my custody!!
Seany's sister is almost 11 years old. I call her Phi Phi (like "Fee Fee"), or Sweet Angel Face. She, too, has taken to the game of cribbage, and is doing so impressively well. She understands the cards or point counting process and the art of pegging. She and her brother play frequently. It is, after all, a family tradition! It was imperative that both learn the game, and play regularly!
SweetHeart's grandmother had a way of making her grandson, SweetHeart's brother Boobers, a bit crazy when they played. The grandmother would make a smirky face when she'd win, scrunch up her eyes and nose and smile with a kind of excessive "in your face" flavor. Boobers' (actually Bob!) would turn purple in the face and become more than a bit angry. He, too, considered himself the finest player on the planet. Losing for Bobby was not a pleasant experience, and probably, according to him, a rare one! (Hmmm... We wonder if he's playing cribbage in some ethereal place or card table afterlife!)
Here's another thing. Cribbage is often a pastime within a pastime. Fishing, for example. When
it's too dark to "toss a line in," what's there to do? Play cards, of course... Cribbage! Oh, and drink beer, lots of beer. Salted peanuts go well also with cribbage and beer. My own dear father was, in a way, immortalized (if unseen!) in the picture above, painted by my brother, Kris, and entitled, "Dad Wins." A copy hangs proudly on the east wall of my cluttered office. (The fish board at right is a photo of a work of art, not a painting!)
At one point in my brilliant career in marketing communications of one sort or another, I had a cribbage board designed and built by a fine wood working professional. The board sported the shape and logo of a well-know beer producing company, a client of mine at the time. It had a hinged lid for storing playing cards and wooden pegs. I packed it with logo'ed cards and presented it with great 
aplomb and confidence to my client. He kept it, but never placed an order for hundreds as I had hoped. Possibly he felt it was a "one of a kind" treasure, a magnificent keepsake that should never be duplicated or reproduced en masse, an original that only he could possess! (Jerk!)
Oh well, and what the hell, those are the ups and downs of life in commerce. Success is and can be a capricious imp, and that in a way brings us back to the main topic. Is cribbage, therefore, like life, a kind of metaphor? Sometimes we're dealt a 12 or an 18 or a 24 hand, sometimes it's 19! (It's impossible to score 19 in cribbage... can't be done!)
My brother, SweetHeart and I, with like-minded friends, have held Cribbage Tournaments, several in private homes, at least one in a popular saloon. My brother has gone so far as to participate in a fabled cribbage tournament in Las Vegas, NV. Amazing how pervasive the game has become over time... like bowling, maybe??!
In the end, I guess, we simply have to play the cards we're dealt. (Don't you just love tired cliches?) Those of us who are excessively fond of the fine game of cribbage will continue to play on, to count our hands and move our pegs ever closer to the 121st peg hole. Hoping to win. Hoping that one day we'll stare in wonder at three fives and a jack, praying to the gambling gods that our opponent will cut the fourth five! And then, at last, we can pass into oblivion knowing that our lives have been richly fulfilled!!
(Special Note of Dedication: For Brother Kris, SweetHeart, Seany, Phi Phi, Jimmy J. and all of our dear friends and relatives similarly obsessed with Cribbage and the lure of the Double Skunk!!)
Humbly Submitted, 09-23-2020 -- Joel K.
