“Fifteen two, fifteen four, that’s all there is, there ain’t no more,” said my dad, as he moved his peg four holes forward on the cribbage board.
The scene was nearly always the same; people sitting around the kitchen table, often at night, but during the day on weekends or holidays. The “usual” players were me, my brother Jim, my dad, cousin Howard, Uncle Jim and Uncle Bill. When other couples visited, the men would usually join in. Grandma sometimes played the game with her grandkids.
Uncle Jim made the cribbage board we used from an oak table leaf. He had a drill press and created several of them from that same piece of wood.Brass pegs, made from a brazing rod, were stored in a hole in the side of the board that was covered by a small piece of tin can attached with a screw.
“Looks like a 19 hand to me,” Uncle Jim might say, trying to suppress a grin as the other player continued to survey his cards, attempting to come up with a combination that would total 15, for two points. (For the uninitiated, 19 is an impossible score, equal to zero.)
This was part of the entertainment in a rural U. P. household near Manistique in the 1950s. The men would often have a couple of beers during the games and maybe a ‘bump’ or two from the Seagram’s 7 Crown bottle. The boys would drink Orange Crush from ribbed, brown bottles. Sometimes Mom or Grandma would pop some corn in a large kettle on the stove.
During the games, the men often retold escapades of their younger years, much to the delight of us kids. This happened only when the women were not in the kitchen. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure the games were all that important. It may have been just being together that made it worthwhile. It was always the best two out of three and then a challenger took on the winner for the next two or three games. If there were at least six players available, we played in teams of two.
“Well, let’s see if we can skunk you guys again.”
Although no scores were written down, some facts from an earlier game might be brought up later. Most often, this was having been skunked or - heaven forbid - DOUBLE SKUNKED. On a one-to-one basis, past failings were not brought up, but if you had played ‘partners’, that was a different story, as much ribbing took place.
When finished counting up points, you might hear someone say, “Have you got all you want?” That meant you had missed some points and it was usually dad telling his son to do a recount. Other opponents would just say, “And I’ll take two points for nubs.” (If the Jack in a person’s hand matched the suit of the card turned up on the deck, it was “Nubs”, good for two points, and often overlooked.)
It was fun back then. There was some thinking involved when deciding which cards to discard when it was your ‘crib’. Near the end of the game, it was important to keep good ‘pegging’ (low numbered) cards in your hand. These were just some elements of the game we liked to play.
That was part of how we “stood it,” as in, “Grandpa, how could you stand it without TV, CDs and iPods?”
The cribbage board followed me to college, but pretty much stayed in a drawer. There were too many other things to do. In years to come, it became tough to find anyone who knew how to play the game. The board now rests in a corner of a desk drawer where it has been stored, unused, for many years.
“Fifteen two, fifteen four, five, six, seven and a pair makes nine. Gotcha.”
Nothing seemed better at the time.
A version of this story was published in the May/June 2015 issue of Senior Perspectives.
