…with Gary Moss

Archive for May, 2009

It was during my wee years. I must have witnessed some of the big guys, on some leisurely Sunday, out washing their cars. It looked good to me: standing out there in their shorts with shirts off; playing with water; making a dirty old car look clean and new again. It was a couple days later when Richie and I were out back, unsupervised for a short time while mom tended to something very important. There was a bucket with some kind of fabric soaking in it and nearby sat a dirty car that looked like it could use a wash. It never occurred to me that just a step the other way, over my head was a clothesline. I coaxed Richie to help me make someone happy by washing their car. We took our shirts off just like the big boys. The rags in the bucket were too long, so we tore them into smaller rags. (That was hard work, without a knife or scissors. Anyway, I wasn’t ever supposed to use a knife or scissors with my mother’s supervision.) We were doing a great job. The dirt melted off the car when we wiped it with the waterlogged rags. Richie and I were both so proud of the job we were doing.

That’s when it all hit the fan. Mrs. Sonny, our downstairs neighbor, was running in our direction shouting obscenities. I turned around and looked to see who she was yelling at. That’s when I realized that she was yelling at us. It seems as though our rags were the curtains from her living room. (And they weren’t even labeled . . but we couldn’t read yet anyway.)

In 1987, I experienced my first taste of competitive scrabble, NSA style. I was there due to a miscommunication in the local newspaper. It was advertised in the Singles Column. It was in fact a tryout competition to determine which local players would attend a regional event. I was fascinated. I had never seen scrabble played as a timed event. Some players had chess clocks while others used sand-timers. And the words that they played were undecipherable to me. Since I was there already, I paid my money and played. They treated me as if I was fresh meat in a den of lions. I moaned every time one of my opponents slapped down a bingo. I whimpered every time I challenged some word like ‘cwm’ and lost the challenge.

Strangely enough, I didn’t throw my hands up and walk away. Down deep, I knew that I could master this too and I had a sincere desire to at least give it a try. I joined a local club and went weekly, continuing to be slaughtered for months. I read the dictionary and word lists. I ask for and followed the advice of some of the best players in the club: Chuck Armstrong, Paul Epstein, Rod Nivison, Carol Koss, and others. Weeks later, my first win was delicious. I was hooked. In 1989 I attended my first NSA National Tournament in NYC. By then I had a rating of 1342. At that National Tournament I won a cash prize for the ‘Best Finish among with rating of less than 1400′.

When you think you can . . . YOU CAN!

When I began writing this Blog, I had a clear vision of what I was going to write. But as happens sometimes, while sitting and looking at the title that I just created, a wash of ideas and feelings swept over me, with a fear of saying what I really think. But, here goes.

Some of my best friends are believers. And that’s okay, as long as we never talk about our beliefs. Belief is something very personal; something unshakeable; something that is at the essence of our core and defines our very being. We are very rarely going to change what someone else thinks and believes.

Beliefs provide the design of daily living for ‘B’illions of people on the planet. If billions of people are praying to for their personal miracle today, and something random occurs tomorrow that fulfills the hopes of ‘one’, the multitudes lift their eyes to the heavens and declare, “It’s A Miracle.”

I hate it when beliefs get in the way of friendships and relationships. One long time friend of a different faith abruptly ended our friendship when I conducted a fund raising event to benefit Stem Cell Research. More than one woman has put the brakes on a potential relationship unless I would accept Jesus as my savior. I guess I am a magnet to people with strong belief systems.

My personal hero in the Bible is the wife of Job. If you remember the story, Job believed that he was being tested by God. He experienced one misfortune after another. In spite of his trials, Job continued to pray to and bless God. Job’s wife was a much more pragmatic individual. She urged him, “stop praying already and take an action to solve your own problems.”

Closer to home. . . this week a mother, who was taught to believe, took her cancer ridden son and ran with him, to shield him from chemo-therapy, which she believes is so wrong. Science knows that without treatment the boy will die. Science also knows that with treatment the boy has a 90% chance of recovery.

Many scrabble players believe that one improves their game and win percentage by simply playing more often. You can’t argue with them either. That’s what they believe. And when every so often they have an exceptional game, they point to that result and say, “See!” The best scrabble players did not achieve their prowess by praying or putting the OWL2 under their mattress.

All I can say is, “Don’t Count On Miracles.”

For about the last 30 years they coaxed us to join their ranks as they built the NSA (National Scrabble Association). For 30 years, because of their ownership of the ‘Scrabble Brand Word Game’ trademark, we had no option to break away and still play their game, calling it what it is, “SCRABBLE”. For 30 years we paid our dues, did their bidding ‘for free’ as players, club directors, tournament directors, and ambassadors of their game. For 30 years they fed our scrabble addiction, no different than the tobacco companies have fed the nicotine addiction of smokers.

And now during tough economic times, we’ve been booted; we’re no longer any use to them; they can’t afford to keep us going.

They (NSA) did make a feeble attempt to help. The NSA held a meeting on their own dime in December of 2008, inviting their own hand-picked committee of players from different regions of the country. They handed-off the baton to that group without any funding. The group consisted of some of the best players in the land, but not necessarily people with any knowledge about rebuilding an abandoned association.

Personally, I like the individuals who were at that meeting. But being a nice guy is no substitute for having the ability for making the engine run smoothly.

The NSA was an elitist organization, catering primarily to the best players in the game; in my opinion, others were never taken seriously. And the new team in town, the NASPA, is made from the same fabric. From the start, their only solution to funding themselves is by increased taxation on a relatively small group of highly ranked players. Their formula is being challenged, as evidenced by their small membership list, in part due to our weakened economy.

In my opinion, the relative past successes of the NSA was due to its ownership and dictatorial hand in decision making. Likewise, the tenuous authority of committees of the NASPA face formidable challenges from a host of individuals, without any means to enforce anything.

The questions and answers are blowing in the wind, for now. At some point in time, things will settle down and take shape again. Meanwhile, keep on memorizing the dictionary.

I’ve just completed an entire month of cleaning and uncluttering my home. It sure feels great walking into a clean orderly space each time when I walk in the door. It was a lot of hard work getting to here from there. The cleaning was the easiest part. Uncluttering for me was the most difficult. I had accumulated way too much ’stuff’. ‘Stuff’ was piled on every table, crammed onto every shelf, and even pushed under the bed and the sofa.
I had to be willing to let go. Most of the ’stuff’ I had been hanging onto for years was only because it was mine. Now that it’s gone I couldn’t tell you specifically was it was. But I managed to let go of the equivalent of 12 huge garden leaf bags of ’stuff’. Some went into the trash. Some went to GOOD WILL. Some went to friends and family.
The most difficult thing for me now is to break the bad habits that allowed me to create the big mess. I notice that I frequently want to put things off until later. When I get out of bed, NOW, I force myself to make the bed now. (If I put it off until later. . . it never gets made.) When I finish a meal I just want to put the dirty dishes in the sink for now. But I’ve been making myself rinse the dishes and silverware, and put them into the dishwasher. These small steps are very important. The more I stay on top of things, the better things look, and the better I feel about my ability to maintain the process.
One of my life mentors was Bill McGrane. Bill was a teacher and founded The Self-Esteem Institute, in Cincinnati, Ohio. I took part in some of his workshops back in the late 1980’s while reinventing myself. One of the most profound assignments that Bill required of me was to sincerely acknowledge someone every day. The basis for the assignment stemmed from the fact that so many people are driven by their egos. They rarely pause to say thank you, give others praise, or tell those dearest that “I love you”. Time passes so swiftly and too often people live with regrets for never having said something to a dear one who has passed. I learned that lesson well.
If your life is cluttered, unburden yourself now. Take your personal inventory of things you want and need to say to the special people in your life. Acknowledge someone in your circle today and every day. It will provide you with an even higher high than walking into a clean home. (Mom, if you’re reading this. . . . I love you!)

Most often the problem in finding solutions doesn’t lie in the toughness of the question. Getting to the answer usually lies within the motives and openness of the guy/gal seeking the solution.

I’ve been ‘tweeting’ on TWITTER for a few weeks now. I’m most interested in other people’s tweets about scrabble. As a result, I have formed a mental picture of the people who struggle with the game, and then give it up in frustration, claiming to be ‘just poor spellers’.

Most people think that scrabble is simply a game about words and being a good speller. Surprise, that is not the truth. Often, what seems to be obvious can be deceiving. Actually, the game uses words and spelling, but is won with math, probability strategies, and memory.

Most people are enticed by instant gratification. They receive a new scrabble game for Christmas, tear off the wrapping, set up the board, and begin trying to play. They may have never stopped to read the rules of the game, because it is seems obvious how to play. You simply build words in crossword fashion, Right?

Over the last 20 years, I have taught and coached dozens of motivated scrabble wannabes who went on to move up in the ranks among competitive scrabble players. With your hard work and the proper guidance, you too can soar.

There is no magic pill. There is no silver bullet.

Some people catch on quickly. Others take longer to achieve the vision of the board.

For most, it is harder to break a bad habit than to establish a new one. Scrabble players who come to club for the first time, usually have a lot of bad scrabble habits. If and when they choose to see things differently, they thrive.

Do you know those people who are always telling you how they do it, or how they used to do it? Generally, they resist change. They rarely adapt to anything different from their past. (Never marry or hire one of those people.)

Very few things come easy. I have asked myself why that is, so many times. Can we assume that there is a purpose for challenge and struggle? The gyms are filled with people who are working tirelessly to build strength, build endurance, and alter their body mass. Watch them pant; watch them sweat; watch them strain. Scrabble clubs are filled with people who are working tirelessly to build their word knowledge, recognize word patterns, and develop strategies to become more frequent winners. Watch them ponder; watch them close their eyes and visualize; watch them strain.

‘Difficulty strengthens the mind . . . .
as labor does the body.‘

Scientists know Newton’s Laws of Motion: ‘To every action there is always opposed an equal reaction.’ If we care to look, we can witness that the same law applies to so many of the pieces within our lives. Take action in the gym and there will result physical reactions to our labor. Take an action related to study and a level of growth, in knowledge, will occur as well.

That’s how it works. It’s all your choice.

Scrabble can be a dog beat dog world; sometimes it evolves into something more playful like ‘Lady And The Tramp’. One of the things that I enjoy most, and hate most, about the scrabble subculture are the characters that show up at the clubs and tournaments. Okay, I’ll admit it; I am a bit of a character myself. But the truth is, you have no idea who will pop in: students; cab drivers; little old ladies (never underestimate their abilities); doctors (never over estimate their abilities); math teachers; artists; lawyers; night watchmen; Disneyland characters; and IT people (out of work and waiting for their next job). It is always an interesting mix.

The one thing that all scrabble enthusiasts have in common is that they love the game of scrabble, they get off on learning new words, they are highly competitive (even when they say that they are not), and they know a great entertainment bargain when they see it (a night at the club for only $5).

Sometimes people come to scrabble events in the hope of meeting a significant other. That’s not a good reason to show up. There have been a few flings and a few trysts that I’ve known about over the years, and I have indirectly contributed to 2 or 3 marriages of people who have met at my tournaments. . . . but that was simply a coincidence.

If you would enjoy a ‘punny’ experience, if you want a challenge, if you want a frugal night out, then go to a scrabble club in your neighborhood. And when you are in Orange County, California always make plans to drop in at CLUB #350 for a ‘HOT’ scrabble date.

When I play scrabble I want to be an old elephant. They say, if you blow into an elephant’s trunk, it will always remember you. (Big Deal! If you blew into my trunks I would always remember you too.)

I think the point is. . . we all have the ability to remember. The simple truth is that we only chose to use it some of the time; and significant emotional events, like trunk blowing, are unforgettable.

Some years ago I became a teaching assistant at The Dale Carnegie Class. It was in part related to the teachings in the book ‘How To Win Friends And Influence People‘. On the first day of the class, 30 – 40 strangers would walk into the room. The teacher would tell everyone about the power connected to remembering peoples’ names. Then we began a two hour exercise to demonstrate the memory that we didn’t know we possessed. At the end of the 2 hours we each knew the first and last names of every person in the room.

Magic? No, not at all. A systematic technique applied by highly motivated people.

In the scrabble world I hear it all the time: “I can’t learn all that.” “I don’t learn that way.” “I’ll never be able to do that.”

The whiners and moaners are responsible for their own self-fulfilled prophesy. The truth is, unless you have a physical problem like Alzheimer’s, you most likely have a potential for remembering much, much more. . . IF YOU CHOOSE TO.

I also meet a set of people in the scrabble world who come in swinging. At the onset of discovering club and tournament scrabble, I was one out of that mold. At first, the seasoned players demolished me; I lost every game by a huge margin. But as I began to learn all of those strange words and I developed a plan, I found that I began winning.

Part of the secret to developing a skill is that I perceived the learning, including the struggle, to be fun. Others who don’t see it as fun, simply avoid the process. They might still play the game, but they accept their lower level in the ranks.

During my lifetime I’ve met a dyslexic scrabble player who achieved a ranking in the top 100 on the NSA charts.

During my lifetime I’ve met a blind scrabble player who took 1st Place in a tournament against sighted players.

During my lifetime I’ve watcher a watched a quadriplegic player who played, while laying on his stomach on a gurney, with a pencil held in his teeth, pointing to the letters that his assistant placed onto the board. (He was ranked in the 1500’s)

I’m convince that if you can read this, then you can remember more. Ready? Set? Goal.

Becoming a great scrabble player is not different than becoming great at anything else. Remember hearing someone tell you, “If at first you don’t succeed . . . try, try, again”. That’s what it takes to become a master. Or did you think that Tiger Woods was an instant champion when he first picked up a golf club; maybe you think that Dr. Seuss sold his first manuscript; and what’s your take on the space program at NASA?

To become the best at anything we have to pay our dues with sweat, energy, trial and error, practice, spaced repetition, exercise, regimen, ’stick-to-it-ivness’, passion, belief-in-self, and more. With anything less than that, you may be good, but you’ll most likely never be the name on everybody’s lips. We rarely witness the hard work and sacrifice of our celebrity heros. We only notice them when they receive their trophies and awards at the end of a competition.

Most of us are not devoted enough to be the best. We only want to be better. The price is less, but the road to becoming better is lined with the same tools used by our idols.

A True Story. A scrabble player from the ‘kitchen table circuit’ was unbeatable at home. He loved the game and figured that he could join a club and fit right in. The club players welcomed him with open arms and helped make him feel accepted. But when the first game began, everyone put on their competitive hats and there was no mercy. Club players were gracious to kindly pointed out things the newbie needed to know about scoring and the clock and challenges. But they played the games by the rules and expected the same from others. The new player made a few nice plays but was beaten soundly. After each game, seasoned players generously shared their critique of the game. Our newbie was feeling disappointed in his performance and a bit embarrassed receiving pointers from the advanced players. So he turned his attention to one of the weakest links in the club, asking for her advice. I guess he identified with the weaker player and felt less threatened.
I’ve seen this occur more than once. I don’t understand it. If I have a car problem, I want the BEST mechanic. If I need a loan, I want the BEST banker. If I want to become a better scrabble player, I want an EXPERT to teach me.

If and when you chose to become a better scrabble player, I am ready to help you.

When Mary (Margie) Gordon had a game, scoring more than 600 points, last year, you may have thought that she was a ‘national champion’. Well, Margie is special to all of who play at club #350, and that game was a very exciting achievement, but it was the result of many things coming together at the same time: years of playing the game; word knowledge; understanding where to place words to maximize points; knowledge of the tricks of the trade; and a touch of good fortune.

Games in the 600’s aren’t too common, but they do occur at Club #350 and other haunts where serious scrabble players butt heads. One of our occasional visitors at CLub #350 is Mark (Mr. ‘770′) Landsberg, who played his 770 game in an NSA sanctioned tournament, earning him a spot in the Guinness Book of Records.

When I play opponents at online sites, where we don’t know one another, and if I am fortunate to have tiles to create uncommon words and/or high scoring plays, the opponent will often accuse me of cheating and simply abort the game. I find that very frustrating.

The truth is, all players can improve their game and most people have the ability to learn and employ the ‘tricks of the trade’ to achieve greater success and winning.

The question is. . . Is it your priority? Are you willing to devote the time and energy to get yourself from here to there?

For most of the last 20 years I have been a sort of Johnny Appleseed for scrabble. I have created clubs and tournaments in more than 10 states, primarily in Michigan and now in California. As a trained educator, I have developed learning tools and an online class, Scrabble 101, to teach others The Secrets of Winning at Scrabble (available as an ebook.)
http://web.mac.com/jftsoi/www.wordgifts.net

If you want to learn the secrets of stems, hooks, tracking, and more . . . . . Contact me. We can get you started on the road to becoming a more frequent winner by tomorrow.

WARNING ! ! Once you become really good, other lesser players won’t want to play with you, for the dread of losing.