Scrabblegate 2008

Each morning you wake up wondering what the day will bring – good or bad? Never do you think that a belief system will be shaken, that all you hold dear and true will be questioned and the very fabric of your moral compass will be ripped asunder. And the reason for this?

Quiff. Or rather, quif.

The day started out like any other – there were no rumbles of distant thunder or ominous crows flying overhead that would have given us an inkling of the dramas yet to come.

The day continued like any other – again without any black cats crossing our paths or four horsemen taking a canter down the street.

But tea was had, clearing up was done and soon the words that would change the course of our lives were to be uttered. ‘Does anyone want a game of Scrabble?’ (Admittedly, these precise words were not used. It was actually a good 5-minute conversation that consisted of:

Person 1: [From upstairs at the games cupboard] Does anyone want to play a game?
Person 2: [From downstairs in the kitchen] Okay. How about Scrabble?
Person 1: Is Scrabble okay with everyone?
Person 2: [Shouting] Yes!
Person 1: Anyone else?
Person 2: [Still shouting] Yes!
Person 1: [In a angry and shouty voice that should have been a warning of things to come] I can only hear one voice answering me. Does anyone else want to play Scrabble or not?
Person 3 & 4: [Blissfully unaware of the brouhaha their lack of answering has caused] Oh, okay then.

And so it began.

The game was going along fine (although not for me because I was losing!) when I managed to place the word ‘fax’. That’s right F-A-X! It’s a flipping word. It may be short for something but I didn’t hear anyone complaining when Dad put down the word ‘eh’. I mean come on – we’re supposed to be intelligent people and we’re happy enough with ‘eh’! I personally think that the reason for the commotion was because it was on a triple word. (I know – it was a blinder! I must remember to pray to the Scrabble gods in thanks!)

On the next turn, still smarting because fax was placed on the board the following went down: Q-U-I-F.

Hold the phone, says I, that’s so not how you spell quiff. It’s got 2 f’s.

The player in question (and brace yourself for this) – Mum – said that she was sure that this was how it was spelled and I had been allowed fax so she should be allowed this. So, graciously (or at least a really poor attempt at it) I said that it was fine (it wasn’t), there was no need to check our Official Scrabble Dictionary. (That’s right – OFFICIAL! If they say fax is fine, then fax is fine!)

The game carried on and I pulled back in an amazing display of skill (but apparently not modesty) to be on the cusp of winning the game – only to fall short by a measly 3 points. I came in third. (I know – third – it shames me to say it!)

The ruckus over the word fax continued (despite coming third) and in a fit of pique I decided to look up the word quif. Funnily enough, it was not in the dictionary.

And then it happened.

“I know”, said mum. “You spell it with 2 f’s”.

The fallout was cataclysmic. After a beat of stunned silence, Debbie’s wails could be heard from as far away as East Kilbride as she processed the knowledge that mum had lied. Lied. I still can barely believe it. Dad (if he even was aware of what was going on) must have been questioning how he could be married to someone for 29 (count them) years and not have seen this side of her.

Remorse was not to be found (despite the fact it would score about 9 points!) and mum continued to ascertain she had won the game.

The scandal continued when it was revealed that Debbie had profited by the ‘q’ of ‘quif’ and on a triple letter no less. I now know how politicians feel when a scandal rocks the cabinet, bringing down everyone and their sister. Debbie, by default had cheated too.

Being the only upstanding one left (except Dad – but he was fourth!) I declared myself winner of the game. But at what cost? Our family has been rocked to its foundations and games night will never be the same again.

Furthermore – I will never be able to look at Elvis again without thinking of this night. 5th October, 2008 – the night of Scrabblegate.

B x