ArticlesMany years ago – I was still a preteen – my grandparents were hosting a dinner for all of their children and their grandchildren. After dinner, we kids played some cards, while the adults talked.
We were playing Pontoon – which is a gambling game – but rather than using matches for tokens, we borrowed the contents of a coin jar, and dished out the one, two and five cent coins evenly. Using the silver coasters as gambling chips was Daniel’s idea. He declared the small coasters to be worth 10 cents and the large ones 20 cents, and distributed them out.
And so we played for a while. Halfway through, my grandmother cheered us on – and added a new level of competition – by quite generously declaring that we could keep our winnings at the end of the game; the coins need not be returned to the jar.
I was the first to click. I started betting up big, betting in 10 and 20 cent amounts.
I also started making unusual deals – offering to sell a 20 cent chip for only 19 cents. At first, I had many takers, but gradually the others realised what I was up to, and stopped buying and became sellers.
Unusually, it was Andrew who was the last to click. He was still proud of his huge stack of chips – including a 20 cent chip he had negotiated for only 2 cents – when the parents came around and to explain that we were about to leave, and we had to pack up and return the cards to the drawer and the silver coasters to the cupboard.
Andrew learnt a lot about meta-gaming very quickly.
He was losing a car race against a gaming console, and I was taunting him, when he wildly, and without merit, declared that the computer would not win. I taunted him some more, but he repeated his claim.
I looked at the position of the computer player on the track, and compared it to his position. He was losing miserably, and there was no opportunity for him to catch up in the remaining laps. I repeated my taunts, and he challenged me: “I bet you twenty cents that the computer doesn’t beat me.”
Despite the high stakes, I was sure of my position: “You’re on!” I exclaimed.
He immediately reached over and turned off the console.
Comment by Alan Green on September 28, 2006
Cool story.
Reminds me of an episode this last weekend. A friend declared he was playing a game named “Pretend”, where he would pretend to be thinking about something and everyone would have to guess what it was. After a few frustrating minutes, I began pretending, loudly, that I had given the correct answer. It was a good feeling.
Comment by Julian on September 28, 2006
That, in turn, reminds me of the worst game of Bartog I ever played.
The rule that “you may not make a provably incorrect statement” had been removed in this version. You could legally fib to try to confuse other players. It was Richard’s turn to play, but he didn’t move.
“Pick up a card, Richard.” I said
“I already have,” he lied.
I laughed. “Nice one. Now pick up a card.”
“I already have,” he lied.
“Okay, it was funny the first time. Pick up a card.”
“I already have.”
“Okay, in that case, I have already put down all my cards and I won.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
It wasn’t a good feeling, but I couldn’t think of another way out of the impasse.