Whining Isn't Winning

Sarah and I love to play games--card games, board games, mind games, etc.  We've been learning and teaching them to each other since we started dating.  But I can still remember the first game Sarah set out to introduce to me:  Phase 10.  Not only was it a comical yet somewhat frustrating evening, it was also an introduction into a silly dynamic that is now an ongoing part of our relationship.

This is how that day went early in our relationship when Sarah taught me Phase 10:

Sarah had made a special trip to Bellevue that day to hang out, and while I was finishing a project, she had cleared a spot in the living, laid out a blanket, and set up a picnic lunch for us.  I finally joined her to let the learning begin.  What Sarah hadn't yet learned about me and one of my family traits is that I tend to be a tough learner.  Not necessarily a slow learner, but to be sure, a tough learner.  It's something I inherited from my dad.  When it comes to learning new things, the initial "hump" may be a bit more challenging to get over for us than most.  It just doesn't come to us immediately, and an immediate feeling of defeat and frustration quickly sets in.  

And so, as the teaching began and my lack of success at the game bloomed like a hibiscus before us, I grew sour and frustrated--just like clockwork.  Sarah's feelings were hurt and she too began to grow frustrated--it's just a game... she would patiently repeat from time to time--why are you making such a big deal?  The more Sarah excelled at the game and seemed to run further and further ahead of me, the more soggy and whiny I became--like father, like son.  Finally Sarah gave me the ultimatum I needed:  if you can't learn to play this game without making such a big deal about it, then we aren't going to play.  I agreed I'd settle down and we made it through our first game of Phase 10.  Sarah won by several phases, and I felt like a failure.  Nevertheless, we began another round.

As round two began, Sarah again started to pull ahead right from the start.  I did my best not to start whining, but it seemed as though I could hardly control it.  Sarah looked at me and asked are you really still doing this?  It's a game.  Somebody has to lose.  I agreed but still complained about about the fact I was losing even though I was just learning.  Yet we plodded forward, with Sarah beginning to feel more and more guilty with each successful turn--I'm sorry J, this is just how it's turning out.  

Finally I hit my lucky streak.  One successful turn led into another great turn.  Soon I had caught up.  Sarah was happy for me and said See?  Now you're getting the hang of it!  By the close of that game, I had pulled ahead and won the game.  Sarah asked if I felt better and if all the previous commotion was worth it.  I agreed it wasn't and apologized.  We ended up playing two more games of Phase 10 that day.  I ended up winning both of them with significant margins.  By the end I was feeling quite good at the game and was enjoying myself immensely.  Sarah on the other hand, was beginning to feel frustrated:  you mean to tell me I felt sorry for you, and now I can't win a single game?  I felt badly.  I lost one game and made a big stink, while she lost the next three and was being a good sport about it.  We didn't play anymore Phase 10 that day, or for a while.  

We eventually laughed about our first Phase 10 experience, but it has seemed to haunt us as a reminder that my whining doesn't translate to winning.  The kicker is now Sarah rarely wins against me in Phase 10.  In fact, we've been through this similar process in many new games--she pulls ahead quickly, I whine immediately, and right when Sarah feels bad about winning so greatly I go on to become very good at the game, rarely allowing her the victory.  This happened to us again just the other night during Skip-bo.  I was sulking because I was behind, and yet I eventually pulled ahead to win three of our four games.  

Ultimately, however, no matter how many times I win the game, when I whine my way to final victory, I'm not really winning at all.  It does no good.  My poor wife Sarah is the true winner, no mater how many times she loses a game, because of her patience and willingness to play again and again for the shear sake of spending time with me.  She continues to have much to teach me in her patience

.  I have much to learn.

So as we begin our days today, regardless of our losses, let us each remember that our whining never leads to true winning!

More to come!

Jason <><