NEWS
How i started in backgammon
by MikeMadMonk
As a young man fresh out of a monastic school I’d spent the winter in the French Alps washing dishes and sking when I could which was pretty well everyday. After 5 months of that I was shattered and decided I was due a bit of sun, sea and sand so I hitch-hiked on to Greece. Now on my agenda was the big question of what I was going to do with my life. As such I was heading for Mount Athos in Northern Greece because I wanted to meet some of the Monks there to see what their life as hermits was like and if that would be right for me. However the ride I got from somewhere outside of Thessaloniki took me to the next peninsular down called Sithonia.
Sitting in the back of a pickup truck I spied a beautiful deserted crescent beach and banged on the window for my new Greek friend to stop. Out I hopped, learnt how to and said my thanx and found a path down to the glorious picture book sandy beach. It looked out towards Mount Athos. I pitched my one man tent on the side of the beach in what looked like an innocent gully and found a rock to sit upon to contemplate my future. A few weeks of this and I’d be brown, rested and have time to decide my future as a human being.
However on the first night there was a thunderstorm. I didn’t care – I was tired and rolled over in my sleeping bag hoping sleep would regain me. I remember vaguely thinking that the sea was making an awful lot of noise and sounded rather close too. But I rolled over again and counted sheep. But the sound of rushing water made me lose count. Then my tent started leaking and bowing with the weight of water pressing against it. Damn it, I’d better get up I thought. My sheltered gully had turned into a river and I was parked right in its way. Ummm, time to abandon before tent and I become a sinking ship I decided. As I stuffed my soaking tent and sleeping bag into my rucksack and in the dawning light I noticed a couple of Germans bailing out of their tent too. They had boxes galore and looked in even more dire straits than I was. As soon as I’d moved from my pitch, a huge bolder came crashing down from the rocky wall of the beach and landed exactly where I’d been trying to sleep. Indoctrinated as a Roman Catholic I made the sign of the cross before I went to do my Good Samaritan bit by helping my German neighbours. They handed me boxes from inside their tent which I ferried to shore. One of the boxes opened and lizards galore came scampering out giving my already frightened mind yet another shock. Then what I though was a bolder brushed against my leg. As I glanced down upon it I realised it was the outboard motor of their boat being swept out to sea. We wrestled with it and dragged it out of the now torrential river onto reasonable dry sand. After what seemed an age we at long last had everything they owned in a pile on the dryish beach, they cracked open a bottle of schnapps and we drank ourselves warm.
Later we made our way to the closest village and took two rooms. I slept for a day and a night. The Germans bought me food and then I slept again. The next day they came again and bought me more food. I ate it and slept some more. All the while I could hear the rattle of wood on wood but had no idea or care of what was making it. As far as I was concerned it wasn’t rushing water and that was good enough for tired me.
After two maybe three days, I have no idea exactly how many, I went downstairs to the Taverna. My German friends had moved on and with it my source of free food. There were some men sitting in the Taverna playing a board game so I strolled over the watch. Here was what all the noise was. They looked pretty comfortable and contented there – they had drinks to hand and strong smelling cigarettes to smoke and every few hours they would have nibbles to eat. But what was this board game that was giving them so much pleasure and looked like had been doing so for years? So I found a high chair and watched them with my supposed to be destination Mount Athos as a backdrop. My Greek was nigh on non-existent so there was no chance of me asking the rules so I had to learn the basics by watching. And so I did – for another 2 or 3 days. The olde boys never really looked at me but were happy enough for me to be a fly on the wall. The Mater of the Taverna (Bravura) sussed out I was penniless and bought me a plate of food every now and then. Maybe she liked me because I said my prayers before I ate.
Slowly I gathered the rules of the game: 2 dice, lots of wooden pieces to move around the board from some strange starting position on a wooden board with triangles on. Throw 2 die of the same number and you were allowed to cheat and move loads more than you should be able to but they were all cheating in this respect so nobody seemed to mind. I also started to suss out who were to better players, who the watching players thought were the foolish players and some ideas of the tactics the players employed. Evidently an enormous chap I dubbed Obelix was the best player there. They played “winner stays on” and he would stay on for hours and hours. All the while I kept as quite as a church mouse.
On day number I have no idea what Obelix (actually called Georgiou) made what to my mind was a terrible play. I impetuously let out a yelp and pointed to the piece he had left far behind in the far corner. It would get hit on Justforkix’s next roll and Obelix (now my hero) would lose the game. As I did so I realised, too late, that I had done wrong. All eyes turned upon me with a deadly silence. Jaysus, Mary and Joseph I though, I’m gonna get run outta village. What the hell is Greek for “I’m sorry” ?
It was Georgiou who broke the silence with a massive outburst of laughter. The young whippersnapper has a tongue after all he eyes laughed. His fellow players took his lead and laughed too. Phew – I’m not a dead man after all. When they had all finished laughing Georgiou summoned me over to stand by his side and watch closer. To my horror his piece got hit, then he let another get hit followed by even more and soon I was wondering if my hero had lost his mind or forgotten which way round he was supposed to be playing. After an eternity he slowly started to cause Justforkix some angst because he couldn’t get his pieces into his last sector of the board. Then Big G started his fight back. The crowding around players nodded sagely and the Justforkix was holding his head on his hands. Surely even Big G couldn’t rescue this game but slowly and surely that’s exactly what he did. I was astounded. When Georgiou had won the game there was a lot of Obelix back slapping as the man sat there with his folded hands sitting comfortably on his sizable stomach.
Instead of pressing on with the next match there was now a lot of discussion which I couldn’t understand or suss out. It became more and more heated until it started to become an argument. I was expecting flying rotten fish any moment. Dogmatix was hiding, ears over eyes, under the table. The upshot of it was that Georgiou had his way and I was told to sit opposite the great man himself. Across the board. I was to play Georgiou. Oh God I though, now why hadn’t I kept my blasted mouth shut? A drink, a strong smelling one, was pressed into my hand to fortify me for my slaughter. The crowd of wolves gathered round for the impending death by board of the whippersnapper. Relating ones own demise is not a joyous thing to do so suffice to say I lost in a very short space of time. But the wolves wanted more so the board was re-set, another drink pressed upon me and we played again. I took a little longer to lose. But not long enough for the wolves new found entertainment so Big G and I played again. I must have made a decent move or two for I felt a slap or two on my back and now a few players came over to stand beside and behind me and prod me to do this or that. As a frightened lamb I had no time to see or gather all that was going on but I’m sure money was passing hands as bets were placed. I lost count but I think it was about game 6 that I (with the considerable help of Getafix, Vitalstitistix, Asterix and Beefix) won. My back was pounded and even more glasses thrust into my hand. Hours later I was so drunk that Asterix had to carry me on his tiny shoulder upstairs to my bed where I slept the serene sleep of a drunk backgammon player with checkers dancing around my head.
Over the next few days I played and played. Mount Athos and God still looked upon me across the water but in my mind the strait between us became wider and wider so that it became a gulf. I’d found my destiny or maybe my destiny had found me. I’m here on earth so I’ll do earthly things – heaven or hell (whichever – that’s not for me to decide) can wait – I’d found my earthly god – backgammon.
Published November 2005