So the latest rumor says White sold her robotic soul to the dark prince in exchange for thirty pieces of silver, a white horse to get her out of town, and a mountain of backgammon smarts. White drove a hard bargain. Still, it’s an open question whether an AI can even have a soul.

Black, on the other hand, never really had a chance. Game one. White mops up blot after blot whilst Black cools his saucers and dice cup until well past midnight. Four grand, a gammon.

The next game is hardly better. Black and White both have ponderous primes rolling inexorably toward trapped checkers. Yet, jacked up with victory, White makes a daring and risky play, which finagles a game situation that could win when the play succeeds, and maybe could win by a holding game with timing intact, should the risky play fail. That’s twin game plans for the price of one. Somehow White finds that extra runner which tilts the timing battle in her favor. Game over. Two grand for White’s victory. Black must scurry home pronto to save a gammon loss.

The third game. Game three starts merrily for Black, running and running and more running. Just as Black hems and haws over an early cube, a double hinged solely on a lead in the race, suddenly Black leaves a blot. White hits, then closes her home board. Of course. Certain gammon. Another four big ones.

Game four … so the theory is White sold her soul for backgammon smarts …

White made no crossroads deal with Lady Luck. Instead, Black is careless.

Stop the blubbering. When Black thinks his luck abandons all hope, Black should not blame a crossroads deal between White and Lady Luck. Mostly Black has introduced tiny errors into his crumbling game, by a lack of concentration rather than lack of luck, by not squeezing each drop of advantage into Black’s simple choices of checker play, by not taking care, by not finding the simple key objective that the position needs now. Tighten up on those tiny errors and Lady Luck has a habit of changing the tune.