Bernie in the field of fun

I don't mean to brag. I didn't mean to brag when I first told you that I was given the Ifill-Raynolds Award for "outstanding achievement in the field of fun." But, see, I was only told I received the award, I mean, I received the award, but I didn't get it, I mean I didn't get something tangible, except for the plastic stencil I told you about. I guess I mean I didn't get something tangibly award-looking until now. And I'm embarrassed to say that now, now that I have this shiny, engraved, ready-to-hang award, I find myself allowing myself to believe that I really received this award. Really.

Which makes me muse on the whole trophies and awards thing, and how I've worked so hard to create games that are played just for the sheer fun of it all, trophy-less, awardless, scoreless games.

Because I believe that people need to play more than they need to win.

And, frankly, the older I get, the less fun it is to win, and the more fun just to be able to play, just to be able.

Maybe I've forgotten to mention how deeply, satisfyingly, meaningly, majorly kinds of fun I'm having with this award thing, with having it in my hands like this. This elaborately rendered, shiny plaque, this engraved affirmation, from many of my own peers, of my very own, life-long work.

And because I have already found the place to hang this award, I get a kind of fun just looking at it. A meaningful kind of fun. Already more meaningful. Already more fun.




from Bernie DeKoven, funsmith