In a world obsessed with televised poker and blackjack tournaments, it’s refreshing to know that I’m not the only one who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the World Series of [insert card game here].
Yesterday we spent time with some old high school cronies I recently became re-acquainted with, Tim and Ed. I hadn’t seen or heard from either one in about 10 years. That’s until one day I came across Ed while on my way to work.
Long story short, we’ve all been hanging out every now and then. Back in the day we’d play crazy-ass Triple Yahtzee tournaments until the wee hours of the morning. And last night was no exception. We played two games of Triple Yahtzee, both of which were won by Tim, and two games of Sorry! It’d been a long time since I played Sorry! and didn’t realize just what a pain it can be. But revenge can be had in this game. And it’s sweet.
Before we did any of this, we went to the park to hit some baseballs and play catch. Jesus, did that feel good on my 36-year-old bones. I woke up sore but had the most fun I’d had in years. Ann also joined they fray, playing catch sans mitt. She can. That’s the way her father used to play catch with her. And she’d damn good, too. But give her a mitt and you can forget it, buddy.
By the way, do you know what a bitch it is to find Triple Yahtzee scorecards in stores? The only place I could find them before was K-Mart. I’m glad I found them and bought a bunch last time. It’s not like we couldn’t have used the scorecards from the old Yahtzee games that Ann’s grandfather left behind–still in the box and un-opened. Check out his, now our, vintage collection:
Fine and well. But what the hell is that over in the corner, in the green box?
It’s called Kismet, a Yahtzee rip-off game. They call a five-of-a-kind a “Kismet” and Chances “Yarboroughs”.
Yarboroughs? No wonder the damn thing flopped.