Creative Aging: Play to Win?
We didn't lose the game; we just ran out of time. —Vince Lombardi, Football Coach
My competitive father claimed, “There is no reason to play a game if you don’t play to win.” When he invited family members to play, he asked, “Want to get beat in a game of gin?”
If we accepted his challenge, we tried our best to find a smart-aleck reply such as, “Well, you can TRY to beat me, but you won’t succeed” or “You’ll need lots of luck for that.”
If he lost several games, he challenged his opponent to a final game, saying, “This one is for ALL the marbles, for the WHOLE enchilada, for the championship of the world.”
Over the years, my siblings and I absorbed his standard. We played to win.
When we were kids, this standard sometimes provoked loud arguments during Monopoly games. One brother refused to trade or sell properties unless he gained a significant advantage.
When the game of Risk entered our home, the disagreements became more than parental ears could tolerate. We were soon forbidden to play it.
All the while, Dad maintained his claim. A game was worth playing only if you played to win.
I accepted Dad’s standard. Throughout my life, I played to win. It made games exciting. It added suspense. Would I be able to win this one, or would I be defeated?
Just once, I played to lose. I was a single twenty-something, playing chess with a bachelor in whom I was romantically interested. I was ahead in the game, and didn’t want to be. So I deliberately put my queen in jeopardy. He looked at me, puzzled. In that moment, I knew he had read my ploy. He hesitated, and then captured my queen. He never asked me out again.
I have never deliberately lost a game since then, not even when playing my grandchildren. I simply don’t have it in me.
My sister Kathy and her husband John visited us recently. We played lots of Euchre, a card game of bidding and strategy. We played to win. There was high drama on both sides with lots of suspense—glee over bids made, sadness over bids missed. There was rehash over how bids could have been won if cards had been played in different sequences. We kept track of total wins and losses, with the losers wanting to play another game or two for a chance to even the score.
Kathy and John left on a Sunday morning. That evening we invited a neighborhood couple over to play Crokinole—a game similar to Carom—in which accurate shooting of discs wins the game. Crokinole requires accuracy, but not the same level of focus and concentration as Euchre. Our goal was to have a pleasant time and get better acquainted. We took pleasure in each other’s good shots, lamented with each other on our misses. After a couple of games, we switched partners and played some more. A few times, my competitive nature appeared, but it felt out of place in this context.
The contrast of the two experiences left me curious about competitiveness and aging. I Googled them with several different search phrases, but found no data on whether competitiveness subsides with age. I did, however, find lists of the benefits of game playing for older adults. These benefits included:
-Stress relief. Doing something pleasurable, like games, releases endorphins which raise our mood and relieve stress. Release of these endorphins also improves our immune systems and helps lower our blood pressure.
-Improved brain function. Whether the game is primarily physical or cognitive, it has a positive impact on our reaction speed and critical thinking skills. It reduces the risk of cognitive decline.
-Improved relationships. It reduces social isolation, loneliness, and depression. It creates bonds with others, including with the younger generations.
Reflecting on the differences between the two gaming experiences, I realized that playing to win interfered with some of the benefits of games. When I finished playing Euchre, I was tense and tired. It had not provided stress relief or improved relationships.
When I finished playing Crokinole, I was energized and had built bonds with our neighbors.
In these later years of my life, fierce competition is becoming less attractive, and collaborative experiences more so.
My father may have been partly right, but I am learning that he was also partly wrong.
Adapted from Creative Aging by Carol Van Klompenburg, published 2023, available from Amazon and for Pella-area residents directly from Carol. Carol has an MA in theater arts and is available for reading performances of her writing on aging, moments in her gardens, and other topics.