How I Found My Backgammon Sensei

By Emmaly Wiederholt

It was one of those brutally cold days in San Francisco. I know what you’re thinking, all of you who don’t live in San Francisco. It’s California; how cold can it get? But those of you who know this city well know that 40 degrees has a way of worming under your skin and everything everywhere is frigid and damp.

Well it was one of those days. So naturally my roommate and dear friend Malinda and I decided to make Kahlua coffees and go sit in the park. We bundled up, grabbed blankets and food, and headed toward our favorite spot, a meadow behind the rose garden.

Malinda had just started seeing her boyfriend Jake at the time. And you know how new couples are. They’ll go to great lengths to be together. Really great lengths. Like going and sitting in the park on a frigidly cold day with just a t shirt and a green zip up hoodie on. Yup, Jake came and sat with us dressed like it was 65.

Jake, who sat there shivering, did something that day that changed the course of this essay. I like to think it might have even changed the course of history, but I’ll err on the side of humility. Anyway, you’ve probably already guessed what he did. It’s obvious right? A dude wants to go hang out with his new girl and try to be on good terms with his girl’s best friend. What would you do? Duh! You’d bring a Backgammon board!

Backgammon was something I loosely associated with the back of my grandparent’s board game cupboard. What was this old-school briefcase containing ancient runes and poker chips?

“Th-th-th-is is h-h-h-how y-y-you p-p-p-play,” stammered the freezing Jake. It was Malinda and I versus Jake. Jake, who, legend has it, beat a dragon blindfolded and upside down at Backgammon. Yes, that very same Jake.

"Th-th-there are th-th-three rules. 1) T-t-talk shit. 2) Use y-y-your willpower.” I honestly don’t remember Jake’s third rule. But with these foreboding words the game commenced.

Well we beat him. And I like to think our natural good looks and wit had everything to do with it, but it could have equally been Jake’s frostbite. But more important than beating Jake (I know, what on earth could possibly be more important than beating Jake?!?!) was that I wanted to play again!

I loved the simple logic and beautiful complexity of the game. It was like a full-bodied wine (hey, I live in wine country, what kind of simile did you expect?). Notes of vanilla! Delicately balanced tannins! Okay, maybe this simile doesn’t work so well after all, but you get the point. I was hooked.

And Jake became my sensei. I know, this story doesn’t do much for Jake’s public image. He’s dumb enough to come sit in subzero temperatures dressed like it’s California or something, and then two noobz beat him on their first try. But it was more than that. It was obvious that Jake didn’t see the object of the game as winning. He saw it more as an exercise in living.

You know the rest of the story. I went on to become an internationally acclaimed Backgammon superstar. I’ve played in the halftime super bowl show. I’ve played at Obama’s inauguration. But my stardom isn’t the moral of the story. The moral is: pick your sensei wisely. He may catapult you to fame and fortune but he may also break your sink and flood your bathroom.