Personal essays
The thrill of defeat
So close
I’ve learned to love watching rugby after Maggie started playing. Until she explained the game to me, I have to admit that it looked like a bunch of people running around fairly randomly stopping every once in a while for an all encompassing hug.
“Oh Daniel,” you say, “I hope this isn’t a post about rugby.”
It’s not - but it is where we begin.
I suppose many of our pass-times seem random to people who don’t know the rules and have nothing invested in learning them.
Last year I was in Paris during the rugby world cup. I watched the games there and in the following weeks on television and it was a fantastic tournament. This time of year I always enjoy the six nations tournament which features France, England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, and Italy each playing each other.
Poor Italy never seems to win. Last year they lost all five games. Their closes came against France where they came back in the second half and had a real chance. At the very end of the game they were moving down the field so close to scoring and knocked the ball forward giving the ball and the game to France.
A couple of weeks ago Italy faced France again. It looked a lot like last year. France dominated in the first half and Italy came back in the second half. With ten minutes left in the game Italy scored to tie it. When the time ran out at 80 minutes France had the ball - but in rugby the game doesn’t end when the time runs out if you’re in the middle of something. Italy ends up being awarded a penalty and is close enough to kick the ball to score and win.
So Garbisi places the ball on the tee and he has a minute to kick the ball. Just before he kicks it, the ball falls off the tee. Garbisi has to reset the ball and rush his kick and it starts to drift right but it looks like it’s going to go through - NO, it bounces off the right goal post and the game ends in a tie.
The week before Scotland had scored with no time left but somehow the ball got caught on an opponents shoe. In rugby it’s not a score unless the ball touches the grass. The other team can get under the ball and hold it up and it’s not a score. Some how the other team’s show was ruled to have held the ball up so the game ended in a Scotland loss.
These “almosts” were thrilling to watch. It felt as if Italy should have won and felt even more that Scotland should have won.
Instead it was a tie and a loss.
Gambling
I always think of gamblers when I think of almost.
Years ago I went to a conference in Las Vegas and my mother-in-law told me to gamble while I was there.
I know there are people who win but most people don’t.
I mean, walk into a casino and look around you at the huge buildings with expensive decor. What do you think pays for all of that?
Sure, there are people who win, but most people don’t. And even those who win, talk about their winnings but don’t tend to talk about the many times they lost.
Most of the casual gamblers I know, the ones who say “Well, I’m in Las Vegas, I’ll gamble a bit.”
Most of them have an allowable limit. They put some amount of money, say $200 in their front pocket and that’s the money they’ve budgeted to lose. Playing with that money is the cost of the show they’re going to.
I’m more conservative about such things, so I got two dollars worth of nickels and played the nickel slots until I lost it all.
There’s something about slot machines though. Sometimes you know you’re going to lose when the second slot comes to a rest, but sometimes the possibility of a win is still there. It’s not until the third slot comes to a rest that you find out that you’ve bounced off of the far post.
In slots, however, it’s so easy to play again. Just play one more time. There’s a little excitement when the dials start spinning and perhaps a little more just before the last one comes to a rest.
So close. If only this one was different I could have won the big jackpot.
But you lost.
Yeah, but I was close.
Twenty minutes later I’d lost my two dollars. I’d also lost my interest in the game.
Technology
I used to play solitaire when I was a kid.
Now, these are the old days so we didn’t have computers and we certainly didn’t have smart phones.
We would take a deck of cards and shuffle them.
You young kids may need to search to see what a deck of cards is and what it means to shuffle them.
It wasn’t hard but it wasn’t trivial. You’d mix the cards then cut the cards a couple of times and then have to deal them out.
Like, you’d take the cards one by one and place them face up or face down to set up the game.
And then you’d play.
There were two things about physical cards that are different from playing on a device.
First, on a device the rules are enforced by the app. There are strict rules you have to play by.
With physical cards, I just didn’t feel like shuffling and dealing again so sometimes I would modify the rules a bit.
Second, on a device the shuffle and deal is so trivial that as soon as you finish a game you tap a button and play again. In fact, most games make such a fuss when you win that you couldn’t possibly not play again.
I don’t play solitaire anymore, but I’ve had to remove some games from my phone because I was spending too much time playing them for no apparent reason. They weren’t that fun, there seemed to be little point in the game, but - win or lose - as soon as I finished playing a game I’d tap a button to play again.
What did I win?
Nothing. In fact, often I wouldn’t win. It didn’t matter. There were absolutely no stakes. But I had to play again.
I’ve somehow convinced myself that Wordle, Sudoku, and the Daily Mini are good for me so I haven’t removed them.
But I’ve removed many of the other games that I mindlessly opened and played.
Dating apps
And then I considered the dating apps on my phone.
Are they really good for me?
They certainly took up a bunch of time. I would return to them to see who had appeared in my queue.
One of the sites would present me with someone each day that their algorithm had determined was a perfect match.
The person was invariably a conservative though my profile says “I’m liberal and it’s important to me.”
They would be looking for marriage - I’m not.
Suggested topics for discussion might include, “why vaccines are a hoax” and first date suggestions were that we ride our motorcycles to the lake.
Perfect match.
But every day, usually multiple times, I’d open the two dating apps on my phone to see what awaited me there.
One of the apps shows people nearby so when I traveled I would see the suggestions for Chicago, New York, London, Bologna, Barcelona, … It helped me see the place that I live in another light and not a flattering one.
Every once in a while I’d find a woman who seemed like she might be a decent fit and I’d swipe right.
It’s an app. If I was playing with a deck of cards I would change the rules so I’d have a “maybe” stack but in the app your choices are only “yes” or “no” before you see the next person.
Opening the app was like putting a nickel in the machine. There was a slight thrill.
Swiping right was like putting the wheels in motion and watching the first two slots stop.
Often I wouldn’t hear back.
Sometimes I would hear back and the conversation wouldn’t go anywhere.
Sometimes we’d meet for coffee and it would be quickly clear that this was not a good idea.
Whatever - I wasn’t actually dating any more while being on the dating apps than I had been when I wasn’t.
Anyway, a couple of weeks ago I had a coffee date set up and the woman messaged to cancel.
It broke the spell.
It made me stop and ask what I was doing.
I wasn’t paying for the dating apps but every day I was getting an offer to spend money to raise my chances of getting a match.
This was an online Casino designed to bring in a lot of money.
Sure there are people who won - but most of the people playing didn’t.
I don’t regret the nickels I put into that app but something changed.
I lost interest in the game.
I suspended my profiles, deleted the apps, and, I have to say, I’ve been happier since.
Essay from Dim Sum Thinking Newsletter 206. Read the rest of the Newsletter or subscribe