My people are a competitive lot and nowhere is this more clear than when we play card games. We are vicious and mean under these circumstances and normal people would be excused for dealing themselves out of the game.
I consider myself less competitive than the rest of my family but I’ve made up for that in the form of JT. The boy is so competitive that my mother, the lead genetic carrier of this dominant trait, eventually opts out of games with him, leaving a trail of simmering resentment when she departs the table.
It’s somewhat interesting that JT is so fierce at the card table because in the world of sports, where competition is officially encouraged, he is genuinely a sportsman. He cheers on teammates, celebrates their victories (even if they come at his own expense), and truly cares about his teammates. The kid won an all-conference sportsman award in his first semester of NCAA athletic competition.
It’s clear that the NEWMAC conference has never played cards with the kid.
Nowhere is JT’s ferocity more unpleasant than in the game of Monopoly Deal. We bought it years ago in advance of a snow day and from the age of 8 forward, the kid just roasted me at the game. Over and over, I’d lose to him, millions of dollars in debt, his sinister victory laugh the soundtrack to me shuffling and dealing a new game . Eventually, I just refused to play that game with him.
Whenever he plays cards with T and me, he proposes a round or two of Monopoly Deal. We always say no. But last night, in the spirit of thankfulness, we said yes. It’s a different games with three people, more competitive for everyone and with less room for JT to slaughter the competition wholesale. He won the first two rounds but without the usual wave of destruction. Then T won a few rounds and both of us had the chance to stick it to the boy.
It was delayed gratification for the beatdowns of so many years ago. And in the true spirit of my people, I hope that we play again today.
