Bruce Roach, you’re killing me.
But when he resigns because I’ve whined in a chat message that the current game will go down as our biggest blowout yet, that doesn’t count as a victory for me.
In our most recent game, leading 329-298 with only three tiles in front of me and zero available for either of us to draw from, I didn’t think I had it clinched by any means. Despite 13 straight previous defeats, however, I still didn’t foresee he’d play all seven of his tiles to close out the game with a 53-point score.
It’s been a lesson in patience. And humility. But this one was just plain painful.
It’s the beauty of Words with Friends.
Although I’ve lost to him 14 straight times, give or take, I’ll take two or three days off, then fire up another game. This one’s going to be the one, I think to myself.
On some occasions, the beating is bad enough that I’m left hoping I can keep him under 500 points. On other occasions it’s been within seven or eight points that I just couldn’t muster on my last play.
There are life lessons here as well. My sons would tell you we have a few family sayings. The one that relates here is, “Hulls never quit.” Now, I should admit that this is a relative saying. Meaning, there are times when it’s best to take Seth Godin’s advice from 2006 on quitting, or perhaps Seth’s 2008 advice on quitting.
There are times when it’s cheaper and smarter to quit. A silly Words with Friends game has never fallen under that rule.
So I’ll keep plugging away against my friend of 25 years. At some point I’ll punch through for a victory. Maybe sooner, maybe later. In the meantime, I’m learning humility. In huge doses.