The competitive spirit has a lot to contend with

We often hear of team spirit and how participation in sports or games inculcates certain virtues. These include how to play fair, to admit defeat gracefully and to take victory in one’s stride. They are life lessons which stand us in good stead in everyday life.

However, there is also the flip side to gamesmanship. Competitors in Scrabble tournaments have been known to go to drastic lengths such as swallowing tiles to prevent handing anyone else an advantage. Then there are those tricky alphabets, the arrangement of which can be an extreme mental challenge.

In other sports, we have heard about ears being bitten off (though I suspect Tyson must be quite pleased with the publicity that that action generated) and the use of performance-enhancing drugs. When they are caught, they plead ignorance and pass on the buck by saying they were only taking a drink given by a coach. And if you can’t trust your mentor, whom can you trust?

In my family, board games or fun with a pack of cards was de rigueur. However, arriving at a consensus was a time-consuming task. Many a time more effort was spent on this than on the activity itself. That’s usually the case when the players are an aggressive, opinionated lot. The suggestions played to our weaknesses or to our strengths, depending on who was making these. Since there were five of us, the majority vote was always taken and very often the one who was not so sure whose side to lean on, was pressured into agreeing in the interests of harmony.

So many somnolent afternoons were spent with heads bent in utmost concentration over a monopoly board or, in earlier stages of childhood, snakes or ladders. Those long hours began amicably enough but trouble began to brew as soon as one person seemed to have all the luck and you saw all your properties being swallowed up. That was when the challenges began. Every roll of the dice was scrutinised minutely and every landing examined for any discrepancy such as an uneven surface.

As soon as the game became so one-sided it wasn’t fun any more, the excuses began. A favourite one was proclaiming that it had become boring and the suggestion of switching to another. Of course, the siblings always saw through this ruse and soon you were fending off accusations of being a poor loser or, simply, a bad player. Such allegations made the blood rush to your head and you found yourself saying in the most nonchalant tone you could muster, “Okay, let’s continue.” And as the losing streak reached profound proportions, you began to pray for deliverance. This usually came in the form of a call from the parents who had heard enough of the bickering and weren’t averse to putting the brakes on what was quickly turning into a raucous free-for-all.

The card games were another pastime which began in good spirits. Then, suddenly, there was a change in the rules. These were usually effected by an older sibling when he saw his chances of victory stymied by a precocious brat. The changes were introduced in the guise of making the game more interesting or challenging, which usually won approval. But, as time passed by, and the ‘inventor’ was found declaring his hand once too often, suspicion reared its ugly head. That’s when the blame game began. He was asked to provide proof of the validity of his regulations. This was given by reiterating the same in an authoritarian tone. But the younger players always called his bluff.

Soon what had started out in bonhomie turned into a deadly duel of words and ended with cards being tossed all over amid parents’ admonition to clear up or else…