Not the beginning you wanted, eh?

Son, that sure is no way to start any game of backgammon, let alone one in our sessions or chouettes. You must play the game fickle, play it slippery, then pause with cunning. Later on, play it hot and sweaty as summer jailbait. Or launch a sudden attack, a brutal one, blots and hits and mayhem: Sound the Attack. Into hot blooded rage!

Unless … unless those cold dice say otherwise: Your cold defeat, then a lateral arabesque to the old age home, crisloid board adorned with the golden points, some high anchors, a 4pt or 3pt, contest between barpoint and barpoint, a splatter of outfield builders buried in sniper holes.

Best yet, a stellar Prime, long and lean, discreetly set in a safe haven with servants and dancing girls and all-night backgammon over at the home board on the beach — drinks pricey but stakes smoking. And wait. Just wait.

No checker is dancing on the bar.

And the cube is still centered.

Thoughts on all that, son?