The jubilation of winning things yesterday has turned to the more traditional levels of despair that I normally experience with games nights.
And I didn’t just fall at Daniel’s hands (or dice throws), Carole came along and trounced us both this evening. At everything.
She even managed to bust out her crafty “I have no idea what is going on” face, whilst secretly winning when we turned to the last game of the evening – dice-based market simulator Corinth.
I even played Ticket to Ride which, despite being the gateway drug which got us into this board game nonsense in the first place, is probably my least favourite game. And I’m not just saying that because I LOSE EVERY SINGLE TIME I PLAY IT. I mean, partly it’s that. I just hate the losing. I hate all the build-up where I think I’ve done okay and then just losing.
Unsurprisingly I lost.
The winning score, Daniel’s, was one hundred and seventeen. I had sixty-nine. Which apart from the obvious coolness because it’s sixty-nine and it’s rude, was the worst score on the board. And I’d completed the most routes. Just in a very small area. I tried for quantity over quality. And all I got was a number childish people snigger about.
It took the edge off all the loses. A little bit. A very little bit.