My writer’s mind is a strange one, and I wonder if it’s true of others as well. Recently it was National Tug of War Day, and as I was trying to decide what to write, a friend, suggested that I write about childhood games. That seemed like a good idea, and a fun one as well. Before I actually write, I need to walk around with the topic in my head for a while, thinking of points to make or directions to go in or just generally mulling it over. I don’t often end up where I thought I would go when the idea first came to me, although it’s usually recognizable in some way related to the first notion. It was no different that day, but I thought it would be fun to more or less trace the path I took to here.

Of course, my first reaction was to be literal, that is, to write about children’s games, and of course, to begin with Tug of War. I was surprised that I looked back on that particular game with some fondness, since I usually didn’t (and don’t) like/d games of serious contest, especially physical ones. Why, I asked myself, didn’t that seem to be the case of this one? So then I thought of other games, physical, but not really, at least in my own childhood, seriously competitive…and Jump Rope came to mind. I wasn’t very good at most physical stuff, and on most teams was not considered an asset…often chosen last and I became used to it. Yet, I was quite good at jump-roping, at least as we played it in my small village, and never felt ashamed of my “performance” when it was my turn. I could also hold my own in Hop Scotch, maybe because everyone was about the same height as me at the time we were playing it.  I was also good at ice skating, basic forms of it, at least, which was pretty much all we did on the small frozen ponds and large, plough-cleared lakes that were our skating venues in Maine. But I hated Crack the Whip, where it seemed to me the only point was to make the skater at the end of the whip fall down and probably get hurt. That led me to thinking of other games like that that I hated, like Dodge Ball (if I knew we were  playing, I’d try to get out of it, and if that wasn’t possible, I’d deliberately let myself get hit first so I didn’t have to play anymore.) I hate/d “games” where physical attack is the primary point. Volleyball was also painful for me…I wasn’t very good at that either, and rather than being given a chance to improve, my “teammates” would jump in front of me to hit the ball over the net, so I never got a chance to practice nor improve…and I was not an aggressive child, anyhow. Soft ball? I was sent way into the outfield where no kid could actually bat a ball, and stood around during that part of the game waiting until the other side was “out” and it was our team’s turn at bat. When it was my turn at bat…well, I just hoped we were “out” before that happened, and that it wasn’t me that was that third, and last, disappointment of the inning.

There were other physical games, but my musing then led me to games such as board games. How was I at those? I was okay with checkers (we didn’t have any chess players in my town, at least among the kids I’d have played with). Checkers was fairly fast, and it didn’t seem like anyone took it seriously, which was fine by me. I loved Scrabble, which came along when I was a bit older, and, again, didn’t shame myself when playing, and there wasn’t any physical harm involved. I was pretty much ok with losing, and liked winning, but still not overly competitive. But the one game I absolutely hated was Monopoly. Now, I loved those miniature pieces we used to play with…I thought they were really cool. But I absolutely detested that game. I played with friends, and I played with family. It didn’t matter. It was all greed and cheating and chuckling over gaining more property and wealth than the other players. My dad, who was never like that in other circumstances, was one of the worst. He thought it was fun; I thought it was awful.

I then turned to sports. I detest most team sports. As you can imagine, I was not good at them. But, more importantly, just like in Volleyball, I also just detest the blind (or so it seems to me) loyalty to teams, not only when it’s one’s school, but also to professional teams, where choice seems more possible. It doesn’t matter to me…that “loyalty” scares me, as does the adulation of the performers. I know I am definitely in a minority here…I feel that almost every single day, living in a sports-oriented town and state. But I don’t understand that “team spirit” of fans, and I guess, at 77 years of age, I’m never going to.

My mind, then, turned to politics. That should come as no surprise, especially now-a-days. And here I have to admit that I did find the internal Tug-of-War about games and teams and loyalty, laughing at me right in the face. Because I definitely have pretty strong feelings about the “teams” and who I want to win the present Tug-of-War that we are experiencing. At the same time, I cannot bring myself to watch the internal arguments of my own “team” as they publicly vie, in their own Tug-of-War, for the nomination for President. I don’t want them to argue and “be mean” (like in the kids’ games of my childhood). I am torn. I have a couple of preferences, favorites, maybe, but, truly, their public arguing makes my stomach hurt. Yet, more importantly, I want My Team to be able to defeat, to trounce, to rout out, the Other Team. I want that desperately. I am depressed and can’t sleep and often feel despair. I am angry. I am tired. I feel helpless. I am torn because I don’t want these feelings. My heart and my mind are experiencing an adult game, with potentially dire consequences, and it’s a Tug-of-War that I wish I didn’t have to play. It is the Monopoly of my childhood all over again, but in real life.

And so whirled my writer’s mind, taking paths I hadn’t intended, but not surprised when it found itself in each of the steps…I do know how I got here. I really do.

Bev Hartford