November 6th, 2007
The Spirit of the Game
I should like to say a few words this week about the general atmosphere I hope the UK Masters will be played. It should be a happy-go-lucky festival, with everyone enjoying the play, with no disputes, spats, arguments or controversies. The tournament’s two directors Eric Guedj and Andrew Sarjeant are both experienced, firm but fair referees, and will be hoping for the same. And yet, it is unlikely they are going to be able to spend the time whilst the matches are on, in the corner filing their nails. Disputes and spats will inevitably arise, because I’m afraid, that’s backgammon.
Why is this? Why, where spirit, honour and camaraderie are involved, does BG not quite make the best of a lasting job? Well, one five letter word has something to do with it: money! The chase of the filthy lucre can certainly bring out the worst in people, as sometimes ridiculous lengths are pursued to squeeze every last ounce of equity out of a situation. Two areas where disputes arise are in the act of spectating a match, and in checker misplays.
A few months later, I was watching another friendly after-dinner mini-jackpot match where a hitting play was possible, but it would have been suicidal as the fellow had three blots in his home board, and a huge lead in the race. “Got him!” I wittily surmised. Once again his opponent went ‘ape’. “You’re not allowed to say that! He may’ve hit!” And then continued to tear into me. Ruined my night, I tell ya’.
My most public and distressing ‘bollocking’ came at the hands of the great Falafel this summer. It was past 2am in England and Israel’s incredible Nations Cup match, and Israel were in the middle of their mind-boggling come back from 0-6 down to 7. In one game which had had more dizzying swings than a fun fair, Falafel threw a 66 that effectively and finally, broke contact and sealed the race. “Aaaaaah!” I said. Big mistake. Falafel went for me with more vehemence than anyone for many years. “You really can’t do that,” he barked, “extremely disrespectful and unacceptable!”
“I just said ‘Aaaaaah’,” I replied, dumbfounded.
“Yeah, but I heard the semantics of it, you might as well have booed.” [It was here that I got seriously befuddled as I confused the word ‘semantic’ with ‘semitic’.]
I shuffled from the table, dejected and humiliated that one of my heroes in the game had shot me down in flames. Goodness, I thought, the man’s an ogre. Which of course is nonsense. The next day Falafel sought me out for a friendly chat, and asked all about who I was, what I did and where I was from. I mentioned my marathon running, and he gazed upon me with fascinated curiosity, as though I were a duckbilled platypus plunked in his bathtub. The man wasn’t an ogre at all, he was a lamb!
However, in all three of the above instances the reactions to my innocent indiscretions were overcooked, and yet all came from charismatic, intelligent people. A polite, light-hearted, ‘ssshhh’ would have sufficed. Every situation is unique of course, and if a spectator is obviously behaving with antagonism, that is different, but most of the time people mean no harm.
In the tournament, illegal plays can stand – if the opponent doesn’t object. You’ll also be allowed to condone illegal plays. Spectators of course, must never interject. I make no secret that I loathe this rule, as it only leads to bitterness and unrest. You can’t play illegally on the internet, or in Chouette, so why in tournaments? But that currently is the world recognized rule, and WSOB would be ill-advised to go against what everyone else does, even though Andrew Sarjeant has indicated to me, that from the feedback of the players, it is something they’d like to see. The ‘illegal plays are legal’ rule gives those with a fast sleight of hand an edge, as they can cleverly do something illegal, but if their opponent (perhaps of poor eyesight or elderly, or concentrating on his own game) doesn’t notice, the tournament referee is not allowed to correct the misplay, as happened in two very high profile moments as this year’s World Championships.
Making a mechanical error which has nothing to do with your skill as a player, doesn’t exist in any other sport. Imagine if a tennis player dropped his racket, and then wasn’t allowed to use it for the rest of the game, or if a golfer forgot to pick up his tee, and then wasn’t allowed to use a tee at the next hole. Ridiculous. And yet, in BG, you make a purely honest, mechanical error, like taking yourself instead of your opponent, or forgetting to bring your checker down from the bar, and he is allowed to pounce, and insist that the move stands (Rule 6.5). Alternatively, he can display just a touch of humanity, and allow you to play your correct dice.
Ahh, but then you’re giving away equity, I hear you cry. Fine, so be it! I reply, with sugar on top. We’re not curing cancer here. We’re not fighting for our countries. Guideline number 1.1 of Gammonitis requires that all players play with a spirit of fairness and honour. Condoning misplays only surfaces at the end of rule 6.6. Let’s all try to increase the etiquette and compassion of the game a few notches. I’ve played all sorts of sports and games for very many years, and it is only in backgammon that I’ve witnessed a level of harshness not usually found in nature.
We can all work together at the UK Masters and beyond, to give the human side of BG a facelift. We can strive to cut out the petty disputes and sharking, and to promote the spirit and magic of the game, and not its darker side. Andrew and Eric for their part, can then put their nail files to better use.
