CabinCon 2022 - Part VIII
Krokinole.
The Sport of Kings.
(Seriously. Look it up.)
I wrote last year about how much fun we had with the game. Not just playing it, but also doing sports commentary for it. Suf and I were up in the booth when we weren't playing while Drew was rinkside. It was great fun and it worked. We talked about suiting up, streaming it this year, all this fun stuff. Kinda lost track of that and it didn't happen. Though I have to give serious props to Ryan for suiting up in style.
I regret that I didn't snap a shot of him in his full uniform, but the red top and headband says it all.
I was a bit tired and probably a bit dehydrated, but I wasn't feeling quite up to snuff. But as they got going, Suf and I sat down and started in with the commentary. But then a sort of weird thing happened: I went negative with said commentary. Last year, when we were talking about everyone else playing krokinole, we were talking about them being splendid athletes, super stars in the krokinole world, etc. It was all just really positive and fun. This year, we were talking about them being relegated to the league from something bigger, I spoke as though I didn't want to be there, I went into some weird improv thing about my ficitious wife running out on me. I was playing a character who was basically just a fool stuck in this place of commentary. And while those characters work sometimes, this one just wasn't working for me. Some of the back and forth bits were funny, but they just weren't working for me. I wasn't having fun doing the commentary and the negativity of the character I created was seeping into my own attempts to enjoy watching krokinole.
It sounds a bit silly. You might just be saying, "Chris, just drop the character and don't be negative anymore." And yes, that's what I did. But not before some of the negativity left me feeling a bit funky about it. It set me up to sort of think through why I'd made that character choice, why it took me a couple of minutes longer to drop than it should have, and why it affected me the way it did. I mean, we take digs at each other all the time. Why was this any different? And honestly? I can't entirely say.
I can say that when I was younger, I didn't really show affection to friends. I was spending time with them, so what else needed to be said? Surely they understood that I wanted to spend time with them and I thought that was enough. While I was in college and immediately after, I shared those kinds of affectionate feelings more often. I'd tell people I loved them, I'd mention how great they are, etc. But I would also still dig at people. Sometimes beyond what was funny and into uncomfortable territory. It sounded more hateful than I intended and I assumed, again, that my friends knew how I felt about them. But I also specifically remember the moment I changed my approach. It had been building for awhile, but I was starting to feel resentful of the multitude of digs my friends were taking at me. It felt crappy. But when I was getting ready to move to St. Louis from Buffalo, my friends threw one last little farewell gathering. It was very thoughtful and I was very touched. We had a good meal, then sat around a firepit and drank whiskey. It was great. But as the night wore on and there were only a couple of us left, more whiskey was consumed and one person asked me why I was moving and "leaving everything behind." I explained that the woman whom I was moving in order to date was worth the risk I was taking and that Buffalo wasn't going anywhere. We went back and forth like this for a couple of minutes as I pointed out that while I couldn't necessarily recover my exact position if I moved back to Buffalo later, I was leaving on good terms and anticipated that I could easily rejoin the agency. I'd miss out on some roles, but I'd just get back to auditioning when I returned. My friends wouldn't be going anywhere and I could just find a new apartment. And at that point, someone called me stupid for leaving. It was suggested that I was leaving just because I was lonely. Some of the guys piled on, repeating the assertion that I was stupid, a fool, didn't know what I was doing, and whatever else.
I've always been a hothead. My temper has often gotten the best of me. I'm angry quite often and in the past, I've gotten fired up, emotional, and started just taking shots wherever I could find them. I'd hold grudges. All that stuff. But when the pileup started, I just didn't want any part of it. I was a little angry that I was basically being called an impulsive child, but I was more sad that I didn't have the support of some people that were supposed to be my closest friends. So I finished my whiskey and said that I thought it was time to call it a night. There were a couple of half-hearted apologies, but I just sort of reiterated that I thought it was time to call it a night and went to bed. The next morning, I got more sincere apologies, but just sort of handwaved them away. I lost touch with every single one of those people after I moved to St. Louis. And honestly? I mostly don't miss them. It was such a crappy way for me to leave my home of six years, but it was also very illuminating. I have never liked being called stupid because I have often thought of myself that way. Growing up, I was surrounded by absolutely brilliant friends. People that went on to start their own computer and clothing companies, inspire me with their incredible art, become scientists and literal surgeons, and in one case, speak Japanese, play a multitude of musical instruments, and become a lawyer. I loved these people, but always felt as though I couldn't possibly hope to keep up with their exploits. Their intelligence.
So feeling dumb was always a sore point for me. Still is, though I'm better at identifying what I'm feeling and why, as well as articulating why I don't like it and standing my ground when I ask people not to call me stupid. But when I was younger, I'd insult other peoples' intelligence as a pretty common dig. I don't do that anymore. I will not call people stupid. My family and friends will never hear me call them that. It just means too much to me not to insult their intelligence. Over the past ten years, I have become much more openly affectionate with my words. I still take digs at people, but I'm careful about what I say and I make sure I share far more love than vitriol, even in jest. I no longer assume people know how I feel. It's important to me that I be transparent in my communication and it's important to me that people feel safe and valued in my company.
I say all of this because here I am, up in the mountains with some really outstanding people who I value and love, and I'm playing this character that's just all vitriol. It felt like time ill-spent. A lot of hot air that we didn't need polluting the weekend we all look forward to every year. These guys know how I feel about them because I've said how I feel about them on multiple occasions. But we still didn't need the negativity in the cabin, even if it was an act and everyone knew it was an act. When I was younger, I'd absolutely double-down because I'd started the joke by thinking it was funny, and dammit, it was going to be funny if I had to drive it into the ground! It was stupid pride, that's all. And as I've gotten older, I don't have the space or time for it.
I played a game of krokinole myself and ended up beating a couple of other guys by sinking my first shot in the middle and then succeeding in keeping a piece or two on the board to score them. But I honestly don't remember much more beyond that because I was so busy being in my head about all of the stuff I wrote above. Ultimately, krokinole this year did not scratch the itch I anticipated it would. Instead, it provided me with illumination. A good reminder that there's no need for me to pollute a good weekend with a bad impression of some washed-up sports commentator who is on the brink of being irrelevant.
I promise you that I don't have any other recap articles that go this way! I barely talked about krokinole at all! But this is what was worth sharing about krokinole this year. We get back to it in the next recap post, but in the meantime, it's not enough to just love your friends and family - let them know that you do. Tell them, show them, send them an African Grey Parrot that can tell them for you, whatever. Just don't take them for granted. I promise that it gets easier the more you do it and that it's absolutely worth your investment of time, energy, and discomfort. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!
**Also, if anyone reading this is interested in this most excellent group of adventurers and their exploits, you should check out their Twitter! They're the Champions of Valinwood!
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