Word Addict: secrets of a world SCRABBLE champion

PTERIONnoun, a place where several skull bones meet. Plural pteria

HARTALS hartal, noun, a stoppage of work

GLEDnoun, a bird of prey

REDDverb, to put in order

AREDD aread verb, to declare

Elsewhere the two other Aussies had lost, American Chris Lipe and Canadian and 2005 World Champion Adam Logan being the victors and meeting in the other semifinal. I was up against Dave Wiegand after he’d beaten Brett Smitheram 2–0. The semifinals were best-of-five, or first to win three.

I had played Dave a number of times elsewhere, not to mention the three matches earlier in the tournament. I got off to an inauspicious start by going second and challenging FARCY (a disease of horses), giving Wiegand an extra five points. With the aid of the blank, I soon got down bonuses of (L)UNARIST and VITAMINS to give me a decent lead. Eventually MOTLIE(S)T followed and I was in control. Not obscuring a cheap X play allowed Dave to catch up and put me under a bit of pressure, with the Z and blank unseen. It got a little bit edgy, but fortunately I drew the Z and that sealed the game.

One up, we both started the next game by exchanging. After a bit of a staircase pattern Wiegand hit me with IN(G)LOBED and MIELIES. The E in the latter gave me TAILGAT(E), but crucially Dave could cash in on the hook to grab the initiative. I gambled by setting up a juicy S hook, but it backfired and I was left needing an improbable bonus. It didn’t materialize. 1–1.

Not much to say about the third game. I couldn’t do a great deal and quickly found myself 2–1 down and again needing to win the next couple of games to stay in the World Championships. The fourth game was nip and tuck throughout. I’d got ahead with ERISTIC and Dave edged ahead with RELINES. I was twelve points behind when I played ORACLE, keeping an E back. I drew DFFST? and sat waiting for what felt like an eternity to see what Wiegand would play. Would he mess up the easy ST?FFED bonus? I wracked my brain in the meantime trying to find an alternative elsewhere just in case. I pondered over DESTAFF* and DAFF(I)EST. Finally Dave played and my easy seven-letter word was left untouched. I put ST?FFED down, declared the blank as A (I don’t know why, I’m well known for saying ‘get stuffed’), and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Two all.

The decider didn’t really get the game it deserved. I ran away with the game. It was anti-climactic, but I didn’t care. I was in the final and had the rest of the day off. In the other semi, Adam Logan had come from 2–0 down to force a decider, but Chris Lipe blitzed him in the fifth game, opening up with RECRUIT, REGENTAL, POLEWARD, and JUNK to be 314 after four moves and eventually winning 562–443. So the final was set: USA’s Chris Lipe versus Craig Beevers of England.

LUNARISTnoun, a person who believes the moon influences weather

INGLOBEDverb, to enclose as in a globe

MIELIES mielie, noun, an ear of maize

ERISTICnoun, a person who engages in debate

DAFFIEST daffy, adjective, another word for daft

REGENTALadjective, relating to regent, a ruler or administrator

POLEWARDadjective, aimed at or towards a pole

Lots of handshakes and wishes of good luck ensued, then I walked the three miles back to the hostel. All the time I’d been away my partner Karen had been texting me with messages of support. As the event progressed, I was on the online-streamed game more often, so a few friends and family got to watch me live. I can’t begin to imagine how stressful that would be. I was grateful for all the remarks and attention, but also trying to keep level-headed. I tried not to let myself think about what it would mean to other people, as that would put on more pressure than just doing it for me. The next day I awoke to the sound of water dropping on the ground. It was raining and walking suddenly lost its appeal. I got all my best wetproof gear on and a change of clothes and ambled my way to the ExCeL. The weather never relented. I think my shoes were still soaking when I put them back on in the evening.

After a few bits and pieces Chris and I sat down at the smartboard – the Scrabble set with all the technology and cameras pointing at it. It would be our home for the next few hours. We were both wandering about in socks, slightly amazed at getting this far. I’d earlier made a comment about us being the two ‘weakest’ players of the eight quarterfinalists. In terms of rating I was the seventh best player and Lipe eighth. But it was all meaningless now. The first player to get three wins would be crowned World Champion. I won the draw to start and hoped that no more ING-S words would come up. A top player should really study those sorts of words specifically, so they know which ones take an S and which don’t, but I felt like I didn’t have a clue. I was mentally fatigued and just wanted easy stuff to show up. My first rack came AAMNOO? – aarrghh. My other weakness. MANOAO had been added only three years previously and I knew I was bad on the new words. I spent over five minutes trying to work out whether it was good or not. The game situation made it a much bigger error to play a phoney. So I chickened out and exchanged.

I got the bonus next turn, but more mistakes followed. I missed AUX(I)NIC for sixty-four. Unbeknownst to me, Chris had missed a few things too, but he moved ahead with LY(R)ICIST and I struggled with triple Is. Eventually my rack balanced out and I hastily played (U)NRINSED to go sixty-seven ahead. I kicked myself when it allowed Lipe to hit back immediately with SINTERE(D) onto the D, although in hindsight he would have got a bonus even if I’d played a more defensive option.

I was getting really low on time now. I knew my tile tracking was out but didn’t know by how much. I played off my only two vowels, knowing there were still six more to come with four tiles in the bag and seven on Lipe’s rack. I went eighteen points ahead and picked three tiles out. All consonants. I was sitting there with BFLNSTT with AADEOOUQ unseen. I thought for sure I’d blown it. He’s bound to have QU and score. Even if he doesn’t he can play out whilst I’m crippled with seven consonants.

Then (Z)OOEA went down. I’m still in this. I had less than a minute left. I knew QUA was out but wasn’t sure what the other letter on Chris’ rack was. I quickly played B(E)LTS through the E provided by ZOOEA and in the process blocked Lipe’s outplay. His last tile was a D. I just assumed he would block my only winning play of F(O)NT making (I)F, but I was willing him to go somewhere else. He put QUA down elsewhere and my heart skipped as I thought he was going to extend it to QUAR(E) or QUAT(E). I quickly threw F(O)NT down. Twenty-four and out. I was bewildered. I had won hadn’t I? How did that happen? Why didn’t my outplay get blocked? We confirmed scores, 403–389 in my favour.

MANOAOnoun, a coniferous forest tree

AUXINICadjective, relating to auxin, any of various plant hormones

SINTERED sinter, verb, to form lumps or masses by heating or pressure or both

ZOOEAnoun, the larval stage of crabs

QUAREadjective, remarkable or strange

QUATEnoun, fortune, destiny

I was still getting my head around the fact that I’d won the opening game when the next one kicked off with Chris’ opening bonus of BUNGLES. I played safe again, not being 100 per cent sure of FIRK and being rewarded with a bonus of my own. I lost around eight minutes trying to work out if BLOKARTS was the new word that’s allowed, or the old spelling (which had a W in) that got deleted. Eventually I played it and Lipe held the play before accepting it. I exhaled deeply and proceeded to draw my new tiles. I picked the second blank and got OPERATIC soon after.

Soon after I put down PAYOUT, knowing it was volatile but the right move, and created two big triple word lanes. Fortune favoured me as I drew the Z and got down ZETA for sixty-nine. Things were really going against Chris. He was over 100 down now and tried to open things up, but gave me one of the two floaters (letters through which you can play an eight-letter word) needed to go with EEHQRSU. I had been contemplating whether QUEERISH was good, but the C provided me with a nice safe CHEQUERS and the game was effectively over after seven moves each. I eventually won game two 524 to 419. I was now one game from being World Champion.

We had a break for food and I was able to think about the permutations, pondering how bad it would be to lose from this position, but knowing anyone could lose three games in a row. Better players than I had lost five or six consecutive games in the past. Even though I was out of the spotlight I felt tense and just wanted to fast forward to the end result and prize ceremony.

After what felt like an age, we got back to the Scrabble board and began the third game. I was going first and picked out my tiles. My brain was feeling laggy. UPDRAGS popped up in my head, but not straight away which generally makes me more likely to think I’ve made it up. Again I oscillated between going for it and thinking it wasn’t a word. I chose poorly and opted for PUG instead. Chris immediately followed it with JOLLIES. I was playing catch up for the rest of the game, which flowed well for both of us. GUENONS, SQUIZ, FELONIES, LIMBATE, and BIVALENT for Lipe and SHEDDERS, WRACK, OVEREYE, and UPTRAIN for me. But I was kicking myself the whole time for passing up the chance to try the bonus first up. Chris had won 509–464 in a game lasting only nineteen moves. Sure enough I discovered UPDRAGS was good immediately after. I was left wondering if I’d blown my chance.

FIRKverb, to strike with a whip

BLOKARTS blokart noun, a single seat wheeled land vehicle with a sail

UPDRAGS updrag, verb, to drag upward

GUENONS guenon noun, a genus of monkeys having long hind limbs, tail and long hair surrounding the face

SQUIZnoun, a look or glance, especially an inquisitive one

LIMBATEadjective, having an edge or border of a different colour from the rest

OVEREYEverb, to look out over

UPTRAINverb, to train up, to teach or educate

Chris started the next game off with HYENA, which mildly amused me as it is a nickname my sister has given me. Apparently I laugh like one, as well as being entertained by the downfall of others. I’ll leave others to judge. Anyway the play gave me the floater I needed as I sat there with NORSTUV. After a bit of double checking I put down V(E)NTROUS. I immediately drew a blank, but a load of vowels to go with it. I got another low scoring bonus down though GAIE(T)IES, whilst Lipe kept scoring with thirties. Blank number two came out and this time I had more options.

Holding DEIIOR? I could score seventy-seven by playing a word starting from a T on the board. But it meant creating a massive hotspot. I didn’t like any of my options, but I eventually settled for DIORITE and held my breath to see if I got hit by a big reply. Sure enough X(E)NIC went down, and despite starting with three consecutive bonuses I was only up by thirty-seven. I picked out two Us but had some scoring potential. A few more twenties and thirties followed for each of us before Chris hit me with DIRECTE(R) and my lead cut to just six points.

I spent a long time on the next turn knowing how crucial it was. I held the ugly EEGLLLT. It’s one of those racks where you’re desperate to play something tight but you can’t really score either. I wanted to shut down the board but it wasn’t possible to do it right away. I went for GLEET in the top right corner. It looked like an aggressive move but it turned tiles over, scored, and next move I knew I would be able to shut most of the board down. Sure enough, next turn I played VI(L)LA through the L I’d provided, killing an -S bonus lane which was always a big worry. I felt like a heavy favourite. Then I picked the Q.

I scoured the board looking for options whilst I waited for Lipe to play. He was only thirty-six behind, but I might have had to change the Q and waste a turn, or worse get stuck with it at the end. With fifteen tiles in the bag, I searched hard for ways of playing it off one, two, if not three moves ahead. Then I saw the T sitting next to the bottom centre triple word score. I could play (T)ALAQ there for forty-two!

I hoped desperately that Chris would go elsewhere. the T was a good scoring spot, so if he hit a good score there and took out my Q play I was in big trouble. I had no decent alternative. There were no Is or Us to come and none I could use on the board. Finally LORN went down and I got my forty-two points and shedded the Q. I had a buffer now, and only an unlikely bonus or a big mistake could take the title away from me.

VENTROUSadjective, adventurous

GAIETIESnoun, the state or condition of being merry, bright or lively

DIORITEnoun, a dark coarse-grained igneous plutonic rock

XENICadjective, denoting the presence of bacteria

GLEETverb, to discharge pus or mucus from the urethra