There are certain events in ones life that bring to a crystal clear point the existence of God. These monumental occasions shine out as testaments to a higher being, one of all presence, all knowledge, and all sight. For some people, it’s having their first child. For others, it’s surviving a car accident. For me, it’s cribbage.
Last night, my brother and his girlfriend, Lindsey, came up for “Taming of the Shrew”. My father, too, came up for this theatrical evening. The play went “fantastic”, one eyewitness said, but who knows if she was telling the truth or not.
Afterwards, the four of us (Megan included), went to Taco John’s. Bryce and I got into a fight outside, and caused a lot of snow damage. A brutal clash of titans, to be sure. The womens got bored and went inside mid-rumble. It was very humid in Taco John’s. So humid, you couldn’t see because of all the vapour. It was practically raining inside, my soggy Quesadilla tasted like “anal”, and Bryce and I are going to star in our very own naked Rausch calender.
Once we got back to the house, only one thought consumed our beings, cribbage. Jeff got down his nice new board and his nice new deck and dealt for the four of us (Megan excluded). The cards were crisp, and luck was in the air.
It was Bryce and I versus Jeff and the Lindster. The first game was underway. Card by card, Bryce and I peg ourselves into the lead. 15 after 15 after 31 with runs, doubles, and sometimes a double or a run into a 15. It was beautiful, like a dance, how Bryce and I so totally trashed Jeff and Lindsey. The game ended with nearly a skunk, but Linds has a little luck on her side, and they were only a few points past.
The next game plays on in quite the same way. Most of our points came from pegging like Blackbeard (pirate humour – get it?). The second game, too, ended with almost a skunk. We were on fire.
The next game sucked. We lost. I forgot all the details because I didn’t much like that game. We were content that we had won two out of three, but we were not content that we had lost one out of three. Either way, there was one game left, and it was late.
Linds says, “We should make this last game worth two.” So we did. The person who won this one would win it all. There was actually nothing physical to win, but I knew in my heart that there was somewhere something. I just had to find it, with my heart.
Megan had since given up on me and my passion. I felt her lingering embrace as she abandoned me to my obsession. Would I ever see her again? Had I just lost her forever? These questions would not haunt me until I slept, fitful and weary. For now, however, we had to ‘bage.
The game went poorly. Bryce and I were far behind in our typical pegging skills. Jeff and Lindsey seemed to be doing way better than they should. Perhaps someone was asleep on God duty. As the game progressed it came down to the last hand. Then it came down to counting the hands.
They were 14 out, and we were 47 out. Bryce dealt, so Jeff counted first. He had a 6. They were now 8 out, and we were 47 out. I look at my hand. I had 7788; Bryce had cut a 6. If you do the math, that means that my hand was worth 24 points! Screams, joy. This is amazing, but we’re still 23 out, and they are 8 out. Lindsey counts her hand. She has 2. That’s right, just 2. They are 6 out, and we are 23 out. Bryce puts down his hand. He has 4456.
If you count that – that’s 24. Two 24 hands in one game? Both by players on the same team? With just enough points to give us a win by one point? That, my friends, is a miracle. That, my friends, is why I believe in God.