By David Crow
Conversations
David Crow
My paternal grandparents loved to play cards. When company came, there was bound to be a card game after supper. If they had a lot of company, it invariably turned into a card party with a round robin tournament.
It was equal parts social and competitive. More than a little pride might be on the line, depending upon the players. I spent many Ozark nights sitting at the card table in my grandparents’ home conversing, teasing and generally enjoying the company of others.
My grandparents knew many card games. They played pinochle and cribbage, and occasionally they’d mix in a game of whist. But they favored faster paced, team versus team games, so two games in particular became the mainstays of their card table. The first was uno, which I’m sure you’ve heard of. The second was called pitch, which I’m sure you haven’t heard of.
They liked to play pitch the most. Pitch is a Midwestern derivative of what New Englanders know as setback, played with nine cards in each hand, eleven points and four players on two teams of two. As a nod to my New England roots, I will confess that I have nightmares about playing setback. I spent a lot of winter nights at setback with my father and brother and whoever else had the misfortune to be at the table, when my father famously gave what he called the “Ed-Crow-Cutthroat-Setback-Masterclass.” Everyone’s change jar got cleaned out when dad was on the prowl at the setback table. I always start awake from those nightmares when I hear the taunting refrain of, “a penny a point and a nickel a set.”
Pitch has the same furious pace of setback, but with more points and team play. At times it seemed to go even faster. If you want to play well, it is important to stay focused on each trick and remember which cards fell. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself going set (not making your bid for you bridge players out there) and wondering what happened. The fast pace favors a good memory, a sharp eye and a couple of other “dark arts” abilities.
Among the more, shall we say, dedicated pitch players, the ability to needle and distract opponents with witty banter is as celebrated as a player’s ability to play the game. During card parties at my grandparents’ house it didn’t take long for the chatter to turn into a buzzing din that underscored the tension of the evening. A player’s ability to, ahem, bend, flout or get around the rules of the game in creative and original ways is also a sort of badge of honor. A master pitch player can outplay you, make you laugh-sneeze Coca Cola out of your nose with a witty remark and deftly cheat you all at the same time.
To give the games even more spice, my grandparents played for high stakes. The evening’s losers were assigned tasks such as washing the dishes, feeding the dogs or hulling the daily mess of beans picked from the garden. I hate hulling beans. Ever have blisters on the tips of your thumbs? Try hulling a peck of green beans and you’ll see what I mean.
After my grandparents passed away, pitch kind of slipped off the radar in my family in favor of other games, including that nightmare setback. It had a dormancy of about a decade.
But after hearing my parents, my brother and me relive some pitch memories and playfully air old grudges still carried because of particularly artful cheats, my children foolishly expressed an interest in the games. We were only too happy to oblige and broke out the deck of cards with “Big” and “Little” written on the jokers. We proceeded to give them epic whippings along with the attendant taunts and cheats. They fell in love as quickly as I had. Pitch made a roaring comeback.
With summer coming, my kids are a little more grown, but they still look forward to summer nights with their grandparents and parents around the pitch table. All the cellphones are put away and everyone breaks out their best game face. Soon the cards and the jibes are flying, and there’s a smile on every face. The stakes aren’t quite as high – no one has to hull beans. But they might have to shuck corn or mow the grass, so quick is the word and sharp is the action.
I don’t know what card games you play or used to play, but I humbly suggest that this summer you dust it off and teach your kids and/or grandkids. Play for high stakes, like nibbing a peck of strawberries, and I promise it will be some of the best fun you’ve had in years.
Until next time, y’all come out!
David Crow lives in Orange with his wife and three children. He practices law and he asks everyone to call him “Dave.” Only his mother and his wife call him “David,” and only when they’re mad at him. You can contact Dave at Sit.a.Spell.and.Visit@gmail.com. He’ll always find a half hour for a good chat.