Do you know which game is sold in 121 countries in 29 different language versions? Which game has sold one hundred million sets worldwide, and is found in one out of every three American homes? It’s Scrabble. Otherwise known as that bloody game.
I’ve been playing a game of online Scrabble with my brother-in-law in South Africa, thanks to Scrabulous. He’s the acknowledged family champion, king of those irritating little words that score many extra points. At one point I mailed him to say it was getting embarrassing how he was thrashing me, and couldn’t we just stop, and he mailed back to say he’d play left-handed. He’s funny like that.
The final score of the inaugural Oxford (he) – Cambridge (me) match was 611 to 239. I am utterly humiliated. Appropriately enough, his last word was “ta”.
I have only one thing to say, “Tidy up your clonisms, you raddled taupe snotting. In future matches, I will ape your squares, dive-boil your hajis, make mana of your flinty eloge and become a maxi biter who will aye your wiz till it boils.”
See, he might be the Scrabble champ, but I’m still the wordsmith of the family.