William Bonney, notorious outlaw, better known as “Billy The Kid”, got his nickname because he killed his first man at the tender age of 17. Riley “The Kid” Colby got his moniker because he left a trail of moaning cribbage players in his wake before he graduated from junior high.
Our local summer cribbage tournament started today, and I
went down to defeat at the hands of “The Kid”. I didn’t have to, mind you, but
I chose my fate. I am the tournament director, so the first round matches are
all my doing. I thought I was going to emerge as some kind of cribbage super-hero,
by eliminating “The Kid” in the first match, but, alas, it didn’t happen.
When I was asking folks if they wanted to participate in the
tournament, I frequently got… Sure, count me in, but not if I have to play “The
Kid” in the first round. I’ll play anyone else, but not “The Kid”. Riley just
graduated from the 7th grade, and this is his third year of playing
in our cribbage tournaments. I guess a lot of adults don’t like to lose to
someone whose voice hasn’t changed. His reputation precedes him, and for good
reason, as I found out today.
This all started when Riley’s grandfather, Rusty, decided to
teach him how to play cribbage. (Hmm, remind me to take Rusty out of my will). Anyway, Riley played lots and lots of cribbage
games with whoever would play with him, and he soon became an above-average
cribbage player. He entered his first tournament in 2011, and in prior matches
his adult opponents would approach their match with “The Kid” as if it would be
an easy victory. The majority of times, it was not. They came away with a
puzzled look on their face, while “The Kid” had a big smile on his.
Well, enough time has passed that “The Kid” now has a “Rep”…
and it’s a feared one. Well, I thought, I’m not easily shaken. I can look
danger in the eye and not blink. He’s no better than I. “The Kid” puts his
pants on one leg at a time, the same way I do. He drinks the same water I do…
no problem. I was wrong. “The Kid” puts his pants on both legs at time and
drinks some concoction of special brain-enhancing fluid. He beat me, two games
to one.
He also has “roadies”. People kept wandering in and out of the coffee
shop to see how he was doing. Parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, his
sister, a long lost cousin or two… I lost count. Everyone is cheering him on. About
halfway through my match I realized that if I won, I would be looked on as if I
had killed Bambi.
Undaunted, I kept dealing, kept counting, kept pegging, but
alas, I came up short in a tightly-fought, close match. Well, OK… not exactly
tight… He skunked me in our first game… I squeaked out a win in game two… and
then he got a decisive win in the final game..
I really enjoyed playing against “The Kid”. He was first and
foremost, a kid. He would fidget in his seat sometimes… he’d lose his
concentration at times… but best of all he had the “exuberance of youth” you always
see whenever youngsters play anything. It was really refreshing, and that
feeling was well worth all the ribbing I took for being another notch on “The
Kid’s” cribbage board.
As for the next tournament? Well, I’ll still be the director and I’m scheduling “The Kid” for me… a re-match… and you may be walking tall now, “Kid”, but next time…. You’re TOAST!
As for the next tournament? Well, I’ll still be the director and I’m scheduling “The Kid” for me… a re-match… and you may be walking tall now, “Kid”, but next time…. You’re TOAST!
TOAST!!!! Talk about trash talk!!
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