Dear LPG readers, 

Do you remember the days when the television was not the focal point of an evening at home? I am old enough to remember when there was no television at all, and I imagine that most people over 70 will also recall the day they first owned one or saw one.

Before all that, we had board games. Apart from our meals—more often eaten together at the dining table, facing each other rather than a screen—those games gave everyone a reason to communicate.

One of my favourites was Scrabble. Even though I remain one of the world’s worst spellers, I still enjoy the challenge that the choice of letters in your possession forces your brain to consider.

The paradoxical “fear” of picking up the “Q” or “Z” tile was the worst thing for me. In spite of the high value those tiles carry, it is so hard to find them a niche spot within a credible word, especially where a “triple word score” will truly advance your status in the game.

For a while, when I was first married, after a day at our separate jobs, dinner, and tidying up, the board would take centre stage. Many a game remained there for days at a time while we trusted each other not to cheat by sneaking a peek at the opposing player’s tiles. I remember games that lasted into the late hours, and many enthusiastic players will recall that “one particular word” they learned on the board or that provoked the most focused debate.

In our case, the word Easy was already on the board, and “Easyness” was the word my husband tried to get away with. He had the “I, N, E and two Ss,” but the rules don’t allow you to swap tiles. The debate and research went on well past that Saturday night as we argued about an alternative spelling. Eventually, we left the board and decided the game needed to be put to bed—as did we.

I am not sure how much things have changed over the years, but my husband always had serious issues with losing to his wife.

We left the board on the carpet by the bed, but our first very late Sunday morning words were a continuation of the debate about the spelling in question. There was no internet to settle such arguments back then, and every dictionary in the house was searched in vain for the desired spelling of such an easy word.

We got up so late the next morning that it was not too early to invent the concept of “phone a friend,” long before Who Wants to Be a Millionaire made it famous. Telephone calls were made to friends, who checked their dictionaries with equally unclear results.

Without any definitive answer, and determined to save face, my husband got up a few minutes later, said “oops,” and deliberately tripped over the board as he passed it. At that point, both the game and the debate were over. Who won? Who knows.

As we have grown older, our hobby priorities have changed. While my husband’s love of the game has shifted, his need to appear right has not. I still play, but nowadays my opponent is usually the computer, where arguments over words are settled immediately.

For any other avid Scrabble players reading this, it’s worth remembering that if no one else wants to play, your mobile phone or laptop can be a pretty good opponent. The need to spend hours working out whether a word is allowed is eliminated, and if you have to leave the game, you know the computer won’t cheat or peek at your tiles while you’re not looking.

There is nothing more to be said, really—except that perhaps it is better to argue about an easy word than something more personal…

GP, Rushey Green 

GP offers a few Scrabble facts…

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… and a few places where you can pit you wits against the internet…

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