By Traci Rhoades
Among a number of our couple friends, we’re known as the card-playing friends. It’s a great way to gather around a table and have good conversation, while also working your minds a little. What’s a little friendly competition among friends?
Except for the one guy who turns his hat around backwards when he decides it’s time to get serious. Also, the neighbor who seems to have an extraordinary amount of good luck. Then there’s the time we were camping and I chose to be a sore loser by flipping my cards across the picnic table onto the ground.
Friends, we always have a choice. Yes, this unfortunate incident has gone down in friendship lore and I get to relive the memory often.
In today’s society, where loneliness is spreading like wildfire, and we’re so tired from doing all the things we have to do that hanging out feels like a chore, we intentionally get together and play cards. My competitive streak really has gotten better. It’s fun! At least, we keep getting invited to play.
Growing up in Missouri, the primary four-person card game we played was Spades. Occasionally Hearts, and oh, how it stung to end up with that pesky Queen of Hearts (I’m pretty sure she’s related to the Old Maid). Ten-Point Pitch was another option.
Upon graduation, a high school friend of mine went off to Purdue University, and he came back with a new game he wanted to teach us.
Euchre. Never heard of it. Then I married a Michigander.
Is it possible to grow up in southwest Michigan and not know about Euchre?
Most articles attribute the origin of Euchre to Alsace, France, where it was called “Juckerspiel.” German-speaking immigrants brought it to America in the early 19th century. Similar games were played in Switzerland, “Jucker,” and “Jeu de Trente.” The game even has its own official club in Detroit, founded in 1873.
So where’s the Euchre Belt in the United States? Ohio, western Pennsylvania, southern Michigan, eastern Indiana, and parts of Illinois and Kentucky.
While there are common rules and strategies among these partner card games, each feels distinct. For the most part, however, if you know how to play one, you can pick up on the others pretty quickly. At least your partner hopes you will.
When we play cards on the weekends, we don’t play traditional Euchre. Our camping friends taught us a variation of the game called Pepper. It appears to be even more centralized, particularly popular in Wisconsin and Iowa.
It’s also played with four people, but instead of calling a trump, you go around the table and bid. It’s like Euchre, without the secret, hidden cards. My husband prefers Pepper.
Pepper is also thought to have European roots, originating from an older German game, “Hasenpfeffer,” which might explain why another card opponent felt it necessary to quote Bugs Bunny all night long, from an episode where Yosemite Sam tries to trick him Bugs into going into a pot to be cooked as rabbit stew. “Cook! Bring me Hasenpfeffer!”
I’m not entirely sure that’s why he kept saying the quote, but he definitely thought it was funny. We lost more than a few games that night, so the humor was lost on me.
In all seriousness, I really do like playing cards, I just take it too seriously sometimes. Knowing my readership here, I bet you have your own Euchre memories.
Fight back against the loneliness epidemic, invite a few friends over this weekend and make some new memories around the card table. In the words of Porky Pig, “That’s all Folks!”
—————
Traci Rhoades is a faith writer who advocates for an integrated life rooted in Christ. Her family of three loves living near the beach towns of Lake Michigan.
Among a number of our couple friends, we’re known as the card-playing friends. It’s a great way to gather around a table and have good conversation, while also working your minds a little. What’s a little friendly competition among friends?
Except for the one guy who turns his hat around backwards when he decides it’s time to get serious. Also, the neighbor who seems to have an extraordinary amount of good luck. Then there’s the time we were camping and I chose to be a sore loser by flipping my cards across the picnic table onto the ground.
Friends, we always have a choice. Yes, this unfortunate incident has gone down in friendship lore and I get to relive the memory often.
In today’s society, where loneliness is spreading like wildfire, and we’re so tired from doing all the things we have to do that hanging out feels like a chore, we intentionally get together and play cards. My competitive streak really has gotten better. It’s fun! At least, we keep getting invited to play.
Growing up in Missouri, the primary four-person card game we played was Spades. Occasionally Hearts, and oh, how it stung to end up with that pesky Queen of Hearts (I’m pretty sure she’s related to the Old Maid). Ten-Point Pitch was another option.
Upon graduation, a high school friend of mine went off to Purdue University, and he came back with a new game he wanted to teach us.
Euchre. Never heard of it. Then I married a Michigander.
Is it possible to grow up in southwest Michigan and not know about Euchre?
Most articles attribute the origin of Euchre to Alsace, France, where it was called “Juckerspiel.” German-speaking immigrants brought it to America in the early 19th century. Similar games were played in Switzerland, “Jucker,” and “Jeu de Trente.” The game even has its own official club in Detroit, founded in 1873.
So where’s the Euchre Belt in the United States? Ohio, western Pennsylvania, southern Michigan, eastern Indiana, and parts of Illinois and Kentucky.
While there are common rules and strategies among these partner card games, each feels distinct. For the most part, however, if you know how to play one, you can pick up on the others pretty quickly. At least your partner hopes you will.
When we play cards on the weekends, we don’t play traditional Euchre. Our camping friends taught us a variation of the game called Pepper. It appears to be even more centralized, particularly popular in Wisconsin and Iowa.
It’s also played with four people, but instead of calling a trump, you go around the table and bid. It’s like Euchre, without the secret, hidden cards. My husband prefers Pepper.
Pepper is also thought to have European roots, originating from an older German game, “Hasenpfeffer,” which might explain why another card opponent felt it necessary to quote Bugs Bunny all night long, from an episode where Yosemite Sam tries to trick him Bugs into going into a pot to be cooked as rabbit stew. “Cook! Bring me Hasenpfeffer!”
I’m not entirely sure that’s why he kept saying the quote, but he definitely thought it was funny. We lost more than a few games that night, so the humor was lost on me.
In all seriousness, I really do like playing cards, I just take it too seriously sometimes. Knowing my readership here, I bet you have your own Euchre memories.
Fight back against the loneliness epidemic, invite a few friends over this weekend and make some new memories around the card table. In the words of Porky Pig, “That’s all Folks!”
—————
Traci Rhoades is a faith writer who advocates for an integrated life rooted in Christ. Her family of three loves living near the beach towns of Lake Michigan.
