Buzz Fleischman - Columnist Page.

You can be a 'Bingolympian'

With the London Olympic Games coming up this summer, let's think about how the average person can compete.

If you forget about weight training, diet, expensive coaches, state of the art gear and the genetics to back it all up there's very little left except BINGO! All we have to do is convince the Olympic committee to sanction Bingo as a competitive sport. Where would we get our training? In a harshly lit basement land of daubers, callers and intense concentration punctuated by random yells.

You too can be just 1 number away from an inner round robin and feel the sweat bead up on your forehead just like the first time you knew you were going to get kissed by a girl who was not related to you.

Let's start at the beginning. I grew up in New Jersey. My mother had taken me to a Bingo game at a church hall. This was not the sort of fun I wanted. I thought about kicking, screaming and throwing a tantrum, but this was just a couple of weeks ago. I figured "what the heck, maybe I'll have beginner's luck".

We walked in an hour early and the place was already filled. Players had staked out their favorite spots. You could just about see the bingo board with the lighted numbers through the smoky haze. It looked like a firefighter's final exam.

It was only a $2 admission, but then there were the specials. If you wanted in on the really big money for the evening you had to purchase extra cards for special games.

A true 'professional' Bingo player will seek out a game every day or night even on vacation in a foreign country where top prizes are often small farm animals.

The average non-player like you and me think that all you do is sit at a long table and place a chip on a number. That's as far from the truth as

Paris Hilton addressing the U.N.

Bingo strategy transcends mere listen, scan and win.

That lady luck has a part in the players strategy is evident in the fact that players line up their daubers to form lucky shapes on their favorite table; people wear their lucky clothes and ink the cards with alternate hands to change their luck.

I went into training right then and there to be a Bingolympian. The games began. My mother played 24 cards, I had 10. You could tell when people got one number away from a bingo. There would be an audible sigh throughout the room when a number was called followed by hushed pleadings to God for the next number to be theirs. It was almost like hearing muted roller coaster squeals from your parents. We were in a regular game and my mother, always vigilant, checked out my cards and said, "You've got it, you've got Bingo, look" She was right. I was trying too hard to soak up the atmosphere and missed a number. In the excitement, I froze. I focused so hard on her words that I didn't know what to do. Background sound was filtered out and I heard her say, "Go ahead, say it"

I screamed "Here! I got it!!!" I was so happy I won. It took a while for my money to be brought over and I wondered if you tip the attendant. The pot was $50 but I found out that 15 other people won. With a smile, she counted out $3.55. It was like winning the fight but going home with torn clothes. I never did yell out the word 'Bingo' but give me 30 cards, a new dauber and a set of blinders, coach and I'll stand up during the last game and when Bingo is called, race for the parking lot with the best of them.

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