This past week was supposed to be the week that I started running again. I figured the beginning of spring would be symbolic of my rebirth as an athlete. For the first time in numerous instances of my trying to become an athlete again, I finally kept my word.
Incidentally, I never got around to finding my old flats. This should come as no surprise to any of you who know me, because I constantly talk about how I'm going to get back in shape, but I never do. I'm all talk and no action. However, while I did not find my running shoes, I was able to locate the old Scrabble board. And by God, Scrabble is a sport and I am an athlete.
Usually, when I make claims in my column, they are unsubstantiated and made up by me. But in this case, I am not the first to claim that Scrabble is a sport. At Christmas, "Santa" gave me a book entitled: Word Freak: Heartbreak, Triumph, Genius and Obsession in the World of Competitive Scrabble. In a description of the book, one reader says, "Like a cross between a linguistic spy and a lexicographic Olympic athlete, journalist Stefan Fatsis gave himself a year to penetrate the highest echelons of international Scrabble competition."
What a perfect description. Like Fatsis, after a week of intense Scrabble, during which I tallied an imposed 7-1 mark, I felt not only like an "Olympic athlete" but also a "linguistic spy."
You don't have to look very far on the Tufts campus to find our very own Scrabble superstar. Linda Giovinazzo is a competitive Scrabble player who moonlights as a programmer analyst in Tufts' TCCS department. Giovinazzo is a member of the Lexington, MA, Scrabble Club. Like any sports team, Giovinazzo's Scrabble club has a roster and standings, and the players also practice. The group is a member of the NSA (National Scrabble Association), and each active member is rated.
Despite these numerous signs hinting that Scrabble is a truly a sport, Giovinazzo was still skeptical that both she and I should be considered athletes. "If you call working your brain muscles then maybe," she said. "Maybe some people work out to prepare, but I don't know if it makes me physically healthy. I never would have called it a sport, no."
Well, Ms. Giovinazzo, you are going to have to accept the fact that you do play a sport and that the two of us actually have something in common with another great Massachusetts athlete - Ted Williams. Yes, I know what you are thinking - what does Ted Williams have to do with Scrabble? Well, both Ms. Giovinazzo and I know how Teddy Ballgame felt during his magical 1941 season when he batted .406, making him the last baseball player ever to do so. On March 19, I, too, reached the 400 mark. I actually one-upped Williams, finishing with a whopping point total of 407. I had never before reached 400 and probably never will again. Giovinazzo has surpassed the 400 mark on several occasions, maxing out at an ungodly 440. The joy, the elation, the right to talk trash.
Unfortunately, Ms. Giovinazzo is a throwback to a time when people played sports simply for the sake of playing - she seems far too nice to engage in any trash talking. I, on the other hand, lack this class. In my opinion, one of the most enjoyable aspects of athletic competition is doing well and then subsequently being able to brag about how good you are. Sadly, these Scrabble games were mostly against my mother. While I do love talking smack to her, I can't say I get the same satisfaction of screaming in her face and calling her a loser as I do when I take my 13-year-old brother out to the backyard, whip him in basketball, and then send him back inside crying.
What I'm trying to say is two-fold. First, that Scrabble is a slightly more classy sport than basketball, for example - more on the lines of say, golf or chess. Secondly, I am not a classy guy. I yell and I curse when I play sports, but maybe that's just want Scrabble needs.
Perhaps, I could become the Happy Gilmore of Scrabble - a charismatic young leader capable of drawing "Generation X" to the game. Just as Happy Gilmore was able to encourage crowds of drunken slobs to come cheer him on at his tournaments, I feel I could have the same effect on the Scrabble world.
Picture this: me in the ring staring down my opponent from across the table and 20 thousand of you people, in the stands at Madison Square Garden, chanting "Let's go Dan. Let's go Dan."
While Mr. Bill Gehling, the Tufts athletic director, has not yet contacted me about a previous column of mine in which I offered my services as a head coach of any varsity sport for free, this could be my big chance to finally be taken seriously. Here is my latest recommendation - make Scrabble a varsity sport at Tufts.
Tufts is an institution that prides itself on academics over athletics. In that light, no athletic scholarships are given at our University. Scrabble is an academic sport, so it only follows that there should be a varsity team for people like me. Who knows, Mr. Gehling might even be able to hire Ms. Giovinazzo as the team's first head coach.
"I think [playing Scrabble is] a great thing for people to do," Giovinazzo said. "It's really growing very rapidly. Harvard has a club. But I don't think they made it a sport."
As a sports columnist whose word means absolutely nothing on the Hill, I implore the administration to do the right thing and make Scrabble a varsity sport. If nothing else it would get me to shut up about me an my dream of playing a varsity sport at Tufts. That should be reason enough add a Scrabble team to the Tufts athletic website www.ase.tufts.edu/athletics today.
