Easy Stuff

I regularly play Scrabble with my husband, and I also have a game on my computer that I can play against different skill levels. I have four names that I play under:

• SusanNovice
• SusanIntermediate
• SusanAdvanced
• SusanExpert

I play each name against the corresponding skill level of the computer, which so kindly keeps track of my statistics. According to the computer, I beat the Novice level 100% of the time. I beat the Intermediate level a respectable 90% of the time. I am able to best the Advanced level 54% of the time, and my current statistic for beating the Expert level is 27%.

I find when I am playing against the Novice level I hardly look at the score, beating it comes so easily. Every once in a while, I will notice that I have not been paying attention and the computer is close to beating me. However, once on the alert, I am always able to make a few good plays and maintain my lead. No growth there. The computer plays words I know, and I make my plays without a lot of contemplation or effort because I know I can win easily.

When I play against the Intermediate level, I am slightly less lackadaisical. I watch the score, because every now and then the computer comes out with a high-scoring bonus word (when you play all seven tiles) and shoots ahead. I beat this level except when the competition is having an exceptionally good game. When I lose, it is often because I played a weak first half of the game, and was blindsided by my opponent because I assumed an easy victory was in store.

Hard Stuff

After I have played against those two skill levels, I am warmed up and ready to take on the challenge of the next two levels. I have shown that I can beat the Advanced level more than half the time, but I have to be on my toes from the start.

When I first see my rack of letters, it is easy to decide whether or not this is going to be a good game, but I tell myself not to judge by my initial draw. I am fighting not only against the artificial intelligence that can scan an entire dictionary in seconds, but also against my own human nature and the feeling that I am beaten before I even begin.

I also have to fight against my tendency to hold out too long for a big play, forgetting that several respectable plays add up to a big play and that conversely, several lame plays followed by a big play dilute the big play. I have to remind myself to watch the score and to try and come up with a play that puts or keeps me ahead, while still being on the lookout for bonus plays. Even when the computer is ahead by a substantial lead, I am able to remind myself of past victories when I have come from behind.

When I play against the Expert level, I know my chances of victory are small. I strive to play the best game I can and consider myself successful if I make a respectable showing. Sometimes the computer blows me out of the water at the beginning of the game. A few plays into it, I am behind by 200 points or more as the computer flashes bonus words that I have never heard before onto the screen.

I try to pay attention to and learn these new words so that I can whip them out when playing against my husband, another worthy opponent.

I make myself resist the urge to hit the “start new game” button and see if I can begin again with a better chance of victory. When I see what I think is a good move, I force myself to look at the board again and see if there is a better move. I keep myself apprised of places I can hook onto.

If “have” has been played, I hold onto an “n,” knowing that I can play “haven” in a possible bonus play. I hoard my “ing” and “tion” endings. I play defensively. No matter how good the play may be, I can't set the computer up with a hook to a triple or a word that can be made plural with a wide open space on either side, because inevitably my opponent finds and uses those before I can amass the necessary letters to take advantage of the hook myself.

When the computer is overwhelmingly far ahead, I won't allow myself to make lame moves just to end the game. The victory, I tell myself, is in giving your all until the end, regardless of what the scoreboard reads.

Adversity Really Does Make Us Stronger

I am always looking for life lessons, and they abound in the game of Scrabble. I see parallels between these different levels and the adversity in our lives. Here are my Scrabble statistics.

• Novice level average points per turn 15.92
• Intermediate average points per turn 16.77
• Advanced average points per turn 17.03
• Expert average points per turn 19.42

The harder the opponent, the better I play. My ratings go from 1144 for Novice to 1214 for Intermediate, to 1236 for Advanced to 1419 for Expert. Adversity really does make us stronger.

Although I enjoy beating the Novice and Intermediate levels, there is not a lot of growth involved. I can be lazy and inattentive and still win. It is through the greater challenges that I improve my skills.

When I achieve a hard-fought victory against the greater opponent, it counts for something more. It gives me confidence. It spurs me on. Past victories become part of my arsenal, arming me with the knowledge that I can prevail. Even though every game won't end in a triumph, and for the Expert level, few do, those attempts are added to my statistics and my efforts count in the larger scheme of things.

This is important, because I, for one, have struggled to figure out how even my failures factor into my life experience and can be turned to the positive.

The important thing is to keep trying, to do your best even when things look the bleakest — especially when things look the bleakest. You never know. Someday you might surprise yourself, and just when it looks like there is no way out, play “inquirer” across the bottom of the board on a triple triple and capture a victory.