Balderdash

"It doesn't matter whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game."

Whoever said that was obviously a loser.

Saying that winning doesn't matter is Balderdash, which means nonsense. Balderdash also happens to be the name of the lively game I played the other night with some friends.

Here's how the game works. You're given a word, person, movie title, etc. You have to bluff your opponents into believing YOU have the right definition, answer or plot. Here are examples:

Who is Jesse Reno?

Janet Reno's Identical Twin.

What's the plot of the movie, "If Ever I See You Again?"

It's a gripping saga of lost socks in the dryer.

Because of brilliant answers like these, my game piece overtook my friend Cheryl's to win the game. As I crossed the finish line, there was a loud cheer.

The cheer went on for awhile; meanwhile everyone else left to get snacks.

Maybe I was a little obnoxious, but I was excited - I haven't won too many things.  I've never won any trophies. The only plaque I had was removed by the dentist.

The next day I was still basking in the glory of my win when the phone rang.  It was my friend, Cheryl.

"You were probably waiting for me to call," she said.

"Yeah, I was pretty awesome last night, huh?"

"Actually, I'm calling to say that something felt wrong; I couldn't stop thinking about the game all night. Then I realized I made a mistake - I didn't move enough spaces on my last turn. I won after all."

I thought about it for a minute.

"You snooze, you lose," I said.

I couldn't help it; calling me to claim my victory took a lot of nerve. I felt peeved. I felt irritated. I felt like calling her something nasty.

But is there a name for a person who is that petty? That competitive? That obsessed with winning a trivial party game?

The only one I could think of was Kay Miller.

Comments

[Dale Armstrong]

Who else would wake up and dream that she had really won? This is a blog that I can relate to! Great job.
-D

[Don Fifield]

Your Jean size blog reminded me of a time working in an office (you may recall what kind of office) on Saturday mornings when a volunteer came in rather regularly with his small son who went around damaging our typewriters.(about 1950). Men wore felt hats in those days and one Saturday this volunteer came in wearing a new hat. We went to a men's store next door and bought a hat just like his, only one size larger...even had his initials put in it. He left the office that day a bit surprised that his hat came down too far. The next saturday he arrived again with the monster child, and his hat in which he had placed tissue paper around inside the lining. He left with his old had in which we placed the same tissue. The hat, of course, sat on top of his head. It never really got to the point where they had to take him away, but we did have fun, and he never learned what happened.
Uncle Don