Eucher

Eucher. It’s world famous in Michigan. A national past time. For those of you who don’t live here, Eucher is just a card game.

The same fun group that had me join them for the Chili Cook-Off last fall have invited me to join them in a Eucher Tournament. Sadly, I informed the group that I was in violation of Michigan state law requiring each citizen to play. But they were insistent. I was next asked to join a small group the week before tournament play for a training session. At this point I am thinking they only want my $15 buy in for the pot.

There is a long history of card play in my extended family. I was a quiet shy kid for many years until I was violently forced out of my shell by watching a newly acquired segment of my family through marriage shout and scream for hours playing Eucher. In a smoke filled basement these boisterous bunches would pair up around folding card tables for hours on end emptying their purple Crowne Royal sacks of coins on one another. At first I showed some interest, but found my self cowering in the corner after shrills of the winner burst in the air. Eventually I learned to go upstairs to muffle the screams of joy. But no amount of distance could quell the noise in that down river cottage. After a few years of built tolerance, the game moved to a location with thicker insulation.

Do I go? Do I learn this game that gives me Pavlovian pains at the mention of the name? Can I be reconditioned to enjoy this game? Why can’t we all just play Uno or Trivial Pursuit?