An excerpt from chapter 3 of my memoirs
Cards formed a significant, if not substantial, portion of ASSETS recreational life. Particularly popular was the collectible card game Magic: The Gathering; my small collection of common and uncommon cards from Revised and 4th Edition attest to this. I received my first set of cards, a 4th Edition starter deck, at a classmate's birthday party (Scott Hathaway; thanks Colin) in either fourth or fifth grade, and was subsequently bilked out of an Aladdin's Ring; at the time, how could I possibly have known about its rarity, especially when confronted with the impeccable logic of "it costs EIGHT whole mana to cast"? I've lost other rare cards to the Nether Void over the years, like Titania's Song and Kormus Bell, but I believe I'm fortunate enough never to have lost anything especially valuable, never having had anything especially valuable to lose.
Of course, normal card games with a standard deck were played as well, the most popular (at least among the people I associated with) easily being Kemps. I remember deriving a significant amount of fun from devising and performing elaborate, ostentatious signals and watching what opponents had crafted, much more fun than actually manipulating the cards themselves. Sure, the game might be more fulfilling when played strategically, trying to outsmart opponents through bluffs and subtle signs, but to a young person in an environment that fostered creativity, it was much more attractive for a signal to be an Irish jig, started on the left foot for a four-of-a-kind and the right for a bluff.
The dominant feature of the back area of the school grounds where the first half of lunch recess was held was easily the sprawling playground complex. An organic structure comprising swings, balance beams, wooden pathways, climbing areas, and slides, its appearance to a young child must have been awe inspiring. I unfortunately don't have any pictures of the structure to share, so luckily it's not our focus here.
Between the playground and the 50's classroom wing stood a grand monkeypod tree, providing shade for a large, roughly circular area of the field. Underneath the tree sat wooden tables, eternally covered with monkeypod pods. There were not many flat, seldom-traveled areas on the playground, and those that existed were constructed with long wooden beams, creating slits through which cards could be easily lost. Therefore, the typical venues of card games of any kind were those dirty, yet secure, tables.
I don't remember exactly whose idea it was, under that tree, to play a game of strip poker; in fact, I don't even remember exactly who was playing or even how many of us there were that day (although I think the number was four). Naturally, it being the first time any of us had played, we were all a little fuzzy on the logistics, most notably the fact that strip poker is significantly more enjoyable when played with members of both sexes, not just with people of the male persuasion.
Nevertheless, we played on, each of us discarding one article of clothing for each hand in which we did not come in first. Back then, I had the habit of wearing a jacket to school every day, regardless of season or temperature. It wasn't a fashion statement as much as a forced idiosyncrasy; I'd wear the thing even during P.E., which afforded odd looks from classmates and faculty alike. This habit, along with my insistence that glasses were something you wore and therefore counted as a garment, gave me a slight advantage over my compatriots.
We were all fairly evenly matched, losing shoes, socks, and miscellany at roughly the same rate. The first person to end up being clad only in a shirt, shorts, and undergarments was Matt Balkin, who then proceeded to go on a several hand winning streak amid cries of "TAKE YOUR SHIRT OFF." Luckily, we hecklers soon got our wish as Matt finally lost another hand and had a very important decision to make: remove his shirt, remove his shorts, or stall. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to waste too much time as a teacher soon blew the whistle signifying the end of the designated fun period. We quickly packed up the cards and re-clad ourselves.
Everyone lined up at the stairs of the 50's wing, ready to walk to the courtyard and eat lunch. The second half of recess took place in the central, graveled courtyard of ASSETS. There were two different seating areas: the wooden stairs in front of the 30's wing which were similar in construction to the playground, or the covered tables in the courtyard itself which cards could not be lost underneath. We restarted our game at the table furthest from the center of the courtyard, at the end of a flagellum of tables extending from the middle.
How we were caught has been lost in the fog of my memory. Perhaps we were found by a supervising teacher making her rounds, or maybe a schoolmate at a nearby table overheard our mischief and reported us to the proper authorities. Whatever the details, we were apprehended before any of us got close to the shirt-removing phase and brought forth to counselors to receive judgment.
One of ASSETS's forms of punitive punishment was the "office visit," which was added to the unfortunate student's record; at the second office visit, a parent would be called to be informed of the student's indiscretions, and at the third, the student would be suspended from school for a day and all three office visits would be removed, resetting the counter. I don't believe any of us received an office visit for the game, since I don't think playing strip poker was strictly against the rules except in the case where it led a dress code violation. However, we were definitely given a stern talking-to, and poker, as well as other "gambling" games such as blackjack where clothes could be wagered, were banned indefinitely on school grounds.
I'd love to say that our actions were legendary, that we went down in school history for being the only students foolhardy enough to play strip poker on campus. I doubt, however, that our tale is told among students today, or even that it was told at all by anyone who did not participate in the game. In fact, I'd be surprised if the ban is still imposed, or was in effect when I stopped attending after eighth grade. Still, even if the only result of our actions was an obscure, inconsequential anecdote, it's still our obscure, inconsequential anecdote, and a fond, misguided memory.
Of course, normal card games with a standard deck were played as well, the most popular (at least among the people I associated with) easily being Kemps. I remember deriving a significant amount of fun from devising and performing elaborate, ostentatious signals and watching what opponents had crafted, much more fun than actually manipulating the cards themselves. Sure, the game might be more fulfilling when played strategically, trying to outsmart opponents through bluffs and subtle signs, but to a young person in an environment that fostered creativity, it was much more attractive for a signal to be an Irish jig, started on the left foot for a four-of-a-kind and the right for a bluff.
The dominant feature of the back area of the school grounds where the first half of lunch recess was held was easily the sprawling playground complex. An organic structure comprising swings, balance beams, wooden pathways, climbing areas, and slides, its appearance to a young child must have been awe inspiring. I unfortunately don't have any pictures of the structure to share, so luckily it's not our focus here.
Between the playground and the 50's classroom wing stood a grand monkeypod tree, providing shade for a large, roughly circular area of the field. Underneath the tree sat wooden tables, eternally covered with monkeypod pods. There were not many flat, seldom-traveled areas on the playground, and those that existed were constructed with long wooden beams, creating slits through which cards could be easily lost. Therefore, the typical venues of card games of any kind were those dirty, yet secure, tables.
I don't remember exactly whose idea it was, under that tree, to play a game of strip poker; in fact, I don't even remember exactly who was playing or even how many of us there were that day (although I think the number was four). Naturally, it being the first time any of us had played, we were all a little fuzzy on the logistics, most notably the fact that strip poker is significantly more enjoyable when played with members of both sexes, not just with people of the male persuasion.
Nevertheless, we played on, each of us discarding one article of clothing for each hand in which we did not come in first. Back then, I had the habit of wearing a jacket to school every day, regardless of season or temperature. It wasn't a fashion statement as much as a forced idiosyncrasy; I'd wear the thing even during P.E., which afforded odd looks from classmates and faculty alike. This habit, along with my insistence that glasses were something you wore and therefore counted as a garment, gave me a slight advantage over my compatriots.
We were all fairly evenly matched, losing shoes, socks, and miscellany at roughly the same rate. The first person to end up being clad only in a shirt, shorts, and undergarments was Matt Balkin, who then proceeded to go on a several hand winning streak amid cries of "TAKE YOUR SHIRT OFF." Luckily, we hecklers soon got our wish as Matt finally lost another hand and had a very important decision to make: remove his shirt, remove his shorts, or stall. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to waste too much time as a teacher soon blew the whistle signifying the end of the designated fun period. We quickly packed up the cards and re-clad ourselves.
Everyone lined up at the stairs of the 50's wing, ready to walk to the courtyard and eat lunch. The second half of recess took place in the central, graveled courtyard of ASSETS. There were two different seating areas: the wooden stairs in front of the 30's wing which were similar in construction to the playground, or the covered tables in the courtyard itself which cards could not be lost underneath. We restarted our game at the table furthest from the center of the courtyard, at the end of a flagellum of tables extending from the middle.
How we were caught has been lost in the fog of my memory. Perhaps we were found by a supervising teacher making her rounds, or maybe a schoolmate at a nearby table overheard our mischief and reported us to the proper authorities. Whatever the details, we were apprehended before any of us got close to the shirt-removing phase and brought forth to counselors to receive judgment.
One of ASSETS's forms of punitive punishment was the "office visit," which was added to the unfortunate student's record; at the second office visit, a parent would be called to be informed of the student's indiscretions, and at the third, the student would be suspended from school for a day and all three office visits would be removed, resetting the counter. I don't believe any of us received an office visit for the game, since I don't think playing strip poker was strictly against the rules except in the case where it led a dress code violation. However, we were definitely given a stern talking-to, and poker, as well as other "gambling" games such as blackjack where clothes could be wagered, were banned indefinitely on school grounds.
I'd love to say that our actions were legendary, that we went down in school history for being the only students foolhardy enough to play strip poker on campus. I doubt, however, that our tale is told among students today, or even that it was told at all by anyone who did not participate in the game. In fact, I'd be surprised if the ban is still imposed, or was in effect when I stopped attending after eighth grade. Still, even if the only result of our actions was an obscure, inconsequential anecdote, it's still our obscure, inconsequential anecdote, and a fond, misguided memory.