Yet another post about Foosball. God, I love that game. There are a few people that I play with at work: Gorm, of course; EliseArt, naturally; The Genius and The Kicker. Whenever I play with these folks (usually two against two; or me & The Kicker vs Gorm), we play a game or two (or sometimes three) and call it quits.

However, when Gorm & I play one-on-one, we have our own little game. We call it The Game. It’s very exciting. It also has a very original name. The rules are like every other game of foosball we play, but there are a few exceptions.

The regular rules:

1) No spinning of the rods

2) The middlemen on both teams have to touch the ball before the game starts

3) No scoring from the middlemen

4) The team that gets to 10 first, wins

The rules for The Game:

1) No spinning of the rods

2) The middlemen on both teams have to touch the ball before the game starts

3) Gorm is not allowed to score from the middlemen; any shot Heather gets past Gorm counts

4) The game ends when Heather gets to 10

5) The game score is the number of goals that Gorm gets before Heather gets to 10

6) Heather wins when she gets to 10

7) Gorm wins if Heather does not see The Game through and doesn’t get to 10

Even though the rules are catered to me and allow me a greater chance of winning, Gorm still wins. A lot. Despite my temper tantrums, we diligently play The Game at least once week. In the few months that we’ve been doing this, I’ve made serious strides. I’ve also made a graph. I wouldn’t be a scientist if I didn’t have evidence.

Summary as of Oct 22

The first time we played The Game, we played for an hour and a half before I got to 10; Gorm had 134pts. Even though “I won”, it was a low point in my life. Since then, Gorm has given me lessons and pure practice and sheer determination has helped me achieve lower game scores.

*disclaimer* When I told Gorm that I was going to make a spreadsheet to tabulate the results, I told him that I was going to put only the high scores in, he said that was fine, it’s my spreadsheet after all. Yesterday, I reminded him of this and he called me a bad name. I can’t recall what it was, but the impression I got was that I should be plotting all the scores. I’m not going to.

The second entry had a game score of 73, which is nearly half of the original score. I believe this was actually the second game we played, since I don’t remember ever going above 134. And I don’t remember having a tantrum and walking away (that started happening as I got better at the game. Go figure).

Next was 53, followed by a 52. I was certain that I was plateau-ing and would never break 50. This is when I started walking away from the game. If Gorm hits 54, I lose it; I Hulk out and toss every table in my wake.

Unfortunately, one poor soul has the misfortune of witnessing this escapade EVERY TIME! Every time I say “I’m done! I don’t want to play this game anymore – I hate you!!!!”, I turn around and see this guy standing there. The next time he catches me at the foosball table, he says “I thought you weren’t playing this game anymore, Heather??” It’s pretty funny, except for how much he catches me whining and throwing a tantrum.

Anyway, I broke 50 with an all-time low game score of 28. This was a big moment in my life. I was reveling in my win. I was really pleased with myself.

And then Gorm asked if I wanted to play again. I might lower my score even more. Being that I was delirious from the foosball high I was on, I accepted. Only to fail miserably. Gorm hit 54, I tossed tables and stormed off. “Oh, hello, Tom, I didn’t see you there.”

Yesterday, I got to 22. When I got my final goal, I yelled out (it may or may not have been really loud) “Twenty-fucking-two!!! Yeah!!!!!!”. As I was turning around, the poor janitor behind me turns around with a shocked look on his face. I see the judgment, but that didn’t stop me from doing a happy dance.

Gorm, again, convinced me that I should play again. I might lower my score. I’m on a roll. And then he got 54.

Mother. Fucker.

I’m so consistently inconsistent, it blows my mind. Or maybe that’s the dramatic shift in blood pressure. Not sure.

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