Many,
many years ago—many, many, many, many (if we go really want to
go back that far)—I began playing Words with Friends.
Some of this, I’ve mentioned before.
My
sister, nieces and nephew were visiting, they played, and this
trash talk led to that trash talk led to setting the app up on
my phone and off we went.
Well,
there’s funny thing about Words with Friends. Occasionally
games get created with people you’ve never met previously. (And
honestly, even in the best of circumstances, may never meet in
person.)
For
me, my habits and thoughts about continuing play with a person
is simple. Person that made the final move to end a game is charged
with clicking the rematch option to start the new game.
I
have zero clue where this came from for me. Probably nothing more
complicated than playing a game against my sister or nephew, one
match ended and there was no question another would be started,
and it just made sense that whoever wrapped up one should carry
out the effort to move along to the next.
For
whatever reason, that has become what I consider the way to do
things.
Over
the years I have been introduced to many great people. Have several
games currently active against a few. I’ve never met them or spoken
with them or interacted with them in any way outside of the gaming
app. But we’ve played dozens of games (if not more), shared good
wishes (and other messages), and sure, a handful I might truly
call friends. Here’s the funny thing though…
Those
dozens of games and years of informal friendship? Yeah, they basically
all happened because each of us approaches that transition from
one game to the next in the same fashion. Ender of one is starter
of next.
There
are plenty of people that I’ve shared only one or two games with.
Nothing active right now, and I’m not looking any of them up to
start a new contest. And the reason we lost touch… no longer play…
is nothing more complicated than a game ended on their turn but
they didn’t click to start a rematch.
(This
is where things cross over into a bit of stunning awareness, lightbulb
moments, and head scratching possibilities.)
It’s
possible that they believe differently. Maybe they believe whoever
went last to close out one game should be given the honor of the
second move in a rematch. Maybe they believe the winner (or loser)
of a game should be the one to start the new contest. Whatever
it may be, the circumstances played out in such a way that my
“if you finish one you start the next” approach went up against
their version of game continuation. It’s possible it wasn’t that
they didn’t want another game. Might not have been that they had
any issues of some type. They just expected me to start the new
game when I didn’t believe it was up to me to do so. Things happened,
game ended, time passed, connection closed.
In
the title I promised something about life lessons here, so that’s
where we head next. The thought (and connection to my wandering)
being easy enough… often times, for both simple and complex moments,
the realities of a misunderstanding might be nothing more than
an uncommunicated difference. Nothing sinister. Nothing mysterious.
Our
world though… it’s shrinking. Consider that growing up, I lived
in Rhode Island, and telephone calls between two points in the
state would be subjected to long distance charges.
Rhode
Island phone calls! Long distance charges. And yet, today on a
smartphone you can easily place calls internationally for free.
Communication
and understanding are more important than ever in overcoming differences,
especially when it comes to driving certain results.
For
me, I started this out by talking about a few people I was never
going to meet and potential differences in expectations. When
I send out some messages for holiday wishes and general thoughts
during a game, it does on occasion strike me that I might have
missed an opportunity to stay in touch with some great people
for no other reason than—figuratively—different ideas about who
might hold the door open.
Make
of that what you will.