I’ve occasionally tossed around poker metaphors when discussing politics. Well, let’s be honest, I toss around poker metaphors when discussing anything (for example, I was recently trying to explain to a group of skeptical baseball fans why baseball is just like poker: pitching a fastball is a bet, a breaking ball is a bluff, a walk is a fold). I’ve also been known to pontificate about poker as literature.
But poker as politics is a metaphor you can go a long way with, and in fact somebody has recently created an entire blog about this subject, PokerAndPolitics.com, which rightfully points out that George W. Bush must be a terrible poker player, based on the way he’s misplayed so many hands in Iraq. Dummy, you don’t go all-in with a questionable hand when you’ve got a big stack! So true, so true.
However, I’m worried that the whole poker metaphor might become commonplace, so I’d like to talk about a different game, Risk, which I played several times this summer. What do poker and Risk have in common? Well, they both teach one very, very important life skill that is essential to success in any field: restraint.
This is important, so I would like to say the word again: restraint. Without restraint, you cannot win at poker, and you cannot win at Risk. Witness: this past summer I found myself in a perfect position to take the entire continent of Africa from Southern Europe, thus wiping out my opponent Matthew and taking Matthew’s cards, which put me in great position to wipe my other two opponents Andy and Daniel out of Asia and North America and conquer the world.
Never mind the fact that Matthew is my eleven year old nephew (familial bonds and mercy towards youth have nothing to do with game-winning strategy). I needed Matthew’s cards, and that meant I needed Africa, and since I had nineteen soldiers to his eleven I had no doubt I could make this work. The game was in my hands.
First roll: Matthew wins both dice. I now have seventeen soldiers.
Second roll: Matthew wins both dice. I now have fifteen soldiers.
This is where restraint kicks in. I stood staring at the board for about five minutes, caressing the dice slowly in my hands (as Matthew squirmed and Daniel and Andy yelled at me to hurry up). I caressed and thought, caressed and thought. Then I slapped the dice down on the table, decision made: my turn was over.
I could win with nineteen against eleven. I could probably win with fifteen against eleven but I didn’t like the odds. I backed away and began thinking up a new strategy, and needless to say two hours later I took Kamchatka from Irkutsk and won the entire game.
Restraint. Such an important lesson to learn, and this is one reason it’s so important for children to play games — not just dumb games but tough games, intense games, games that it kills you to lose. You learn what it really takes to win in life. And what it takes, more often than some people think, is not a whole lot of bluster and confidence. If you’re not capable of carefully evaluating your own position, your own strengths and weaknesses, than you will play like a fool and be recognized as such by all your opponents. If you tend to “go for it” because you believe you’re invincible, your game is as good as over, before it even begins.
Restraint. This is what George W. Bush did not demonstrate when he decided to invade Iraq in 2003.
I wonder if George Bush played a lot of games when he was a kid.
I believe I could kick Bush’s ass at Risk. In fact, I believe Matthew could kick Bush’s ass at Risk. And Matthew’s just eleven, but he plays a lot of games.