Winning and Losing
October 26, 2011 Leave a comment
I play the game pretty well most of the time. Sometimes though, I get complacent or take ridiculous risks. It’s awesome when they pan out or can be salvaged, feels bad when they don’t. In my last post, I mentioned words with friends and lamented that the woman I’m currently dating hasn’t sat in the winner’s circle in a while. Well, that all changed that night. I knew where the inflection point was in the game too. She’d taken an early lead, but I’d come back and it wasn’t something too far away. Play the game smart and with a bit of luck, I could turn it around. But I got greedy. And decided that I was going to help out lady luck. And instead of going for the small word defensive high scoring play, I went for a long word open low scoring play, in a bid to grab some good letters at the expense of giving up a triple word score. She took the triple and all I got were vowels. . .and an ‘S’. Don’t get me wrong, an ‘S’ is great, but in a sea of vowels, even I’m limited with just what I can do.
So I went on to lose that game. And I felt bad about it for a while. And I had to think, did I feel bad because I lost? No, clearly not. I’ve lost in WWF (words with friends) many times before (including to her). Didn’t feel like this. So, no, that wasn’t it. Whew, because I’ve always felt I was a good loser and if there is one thing anyone hates more about having their worldview destroyed, it’s when it’s their own perception of themselves. So, ego still intact. Hmm, what could it be? Did I feel the loss wasn’t justified? No, I took a risk, a dumb risk and. . . ah – that’s it. I felt that I made a dumb decision. Plain and simple. I didn’t just take a risk that didn’t pan out. I didn’t just try a strategy that didn’t work this time around. I did something which I immediately recognized afterwards as being dumb. And experiencing the results of that always burns. This is good to know. If I can remember this well, it can prove useful in the future. My subconscious has a way of telling me when I know I messed up. I may not logically realize it, but emotionally, it is there.
Of course, the question now becomes, do I still experience something similar when I make a dumb decision, but through chance or luck, don’t actually suffer any negative consequences? Not that losing a WWF game is necessarily a negative consequence, just in this case the game turned so neatly around that move that it makes attempting to evaluate moves afterwards very hard to do (I’m going to write a gripping novel that centers around WWF. It will sell millions. I will become rich!).