Scrabble is in my DNA (not a permissible word by the way). On childhood holidays, we would always bring a board with us, stowed safely in our hand luggage in case of urgent need en route to our destination. While some teenagers were off surfing or trying their luck in Mediterranean nightclubs, I was tussling over high-scoring tiles and arguing with my brother about his latest dubious two-letter word discovery.
My dad, not a natural Scrabbler, would usually be somewhere in the background, guffawing loudly at his annual dose of Bill Bryson. We sometimes encouraged him to join us, but he took painfully long over each turn, and would eventually play something like CAT for a measly six points. We left him to his travelogues.
He needn’t have worried. It took me months to beat him, by which time my own rating had become faintly more respectable – thanks in part to several crushing victories over my children – and so any loss he might suffer against me would invoke a lesser penalty. My rare wins against my younger sibling are a cause for guttural celebration. His usual excellence is a cause for admiring irritation. In one game, he put out all seven letters on six separate occasions.
One Scrabble update and I suddenly understand the furore over the England shirts
Read MoreFor instance, it’s rare that I find myself chatting to friends or colleagues about the position of an object in the sky, expressed as an angle related to a distance on the horizon of the Earth – but AZIMUTH makes for a cracking seven-letter move.
In a recent game against my mother, the best score I could achieve was with the word VAG. “That’s a bit rude,” she scolded me via an in-app text message. And indeed, I would have felt moderately embarrassed about it had she not played QUIM three turns earlier. When I pointed that out to her, she replied brusquely: “That’s different – I’m an old lady.”
Still, needs must, and such is the plethora of synonyms for certain parts of the human body that it’s almost inevitable to find yourself putting down BUTT, NOB or worse from time to time.
As it happened, mum had just dropped the C-bomb on a triple word square, so I think she’d have approved.
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