WordSmith: A full house at the bingo with granny
In days gone by, my uncle Michael dropped Granny and I off at a dark alleyway in Cavan Town. I was cold and anxious; which Granny sensed, because her warm hand found mine as she led me up the bleak old alley.
The alley once lead to the production offices of this very newspaper; but we weren’t going there – we had no news to report. The alley was also the location of a multi-purpose sports hall; and this night, its purpose was a bingo-hall. In the bustling queue for bingo-books, the conversation combined to create a babbling soundtrack to my first bingo.
Granny handed me my bingo book, “How come you’ve got two?” I asked. “I do two, and I’ll be keeping my eye on yours, too,” she said, walking towards the main event. As we neared the entrance, the bingo-babble increased in audio until it drowned out any individual sound. When we walked into the main-hall, it literally took my breath away as I became engulfed in a thick fog – cigarette smoke so dense it caught in the back of my throat and stung my eyes. When Granny disappeared into the fog, I felt a mild panic; but I managed to spot her shoes and followed them to our seats.
Granny’s Bingo prowess astonished me, she managed to check off her own two books while keeping a steady eye on mine. I struggled to keep up with the bingo caller and Granny’s pen continually flew to my book to cross off numbers I’d missed.
By half time I’d become more adept and Granny’s interventions lessened. Come the second half my confidence grew and I managed a full game without Granny’s help.
When the bingo man announced, “Now, we have the big one, the Jackpot is a whole five hundred pounds for a Full-House!”
The numbers came fast and furious, but I kept up. From somewhere behind me there came an enormous roar that made me jump, “CHECK!” This was for the line, and while the bingo man checked the book, granny pointed to mine, “Look at that box, you’ve a quare few numbers gone on it, you could be in luck.”
I didn’t have time to think about what she was saying because the bingo man called out, “One more time, 79.” It was in my box, I struck it off and felt Granny’s tension rise. His next two numbers were elsewhere on my page, Granny slumped.
“Young and keen, 15.” It was in my box. Granny sat up. “Lucky for some, 13.” It wasn’t lucky for me. Yet, Granny remained primed.
My nerves began to build when only two numbers remained in my box. I prayed they wouldn’t come up, because I was fearful of shouting, “Check,” and having my English accent reverberate around the packed sports hall.
“Make them wait, 58.” That was in my box. I was one number away from the jackpot.
“Hit the floor, 74.” That was it, I crossed it off, and shouted – nothing! Granny elbowed me.
Yet still, I sat there, staring at my full bingo box unable to speak. The book was snatched from my hand, “CHECKKKKKKKKKKK!” Granny jumped up waving my book like a winner while I sat mute, like a loser.
My first bingo and I’d won the jackpot. I had a whole five hundred pounds in my hand, more money than I’d ever seen in my life. “Put that safe in your pocket, now,” said Granny, proudly.
I walked away from that building a wealthy kid. And in the years to come the venue became a kind of rite of passage for me, and many more.
I remember the space as a mega-venue, a vast and robust building akin to The National Concert Hall. Over the years, I often wondered why such an iconic event-space was demolished. Then recently, a picture of it popped up – and I saw in reality it was little more than a big shed.
But, that’s not to belittle its hosting-prowess. The place was a: sports venue, bingo hall, dance and roller-disco, concert hall; it even went global when it gathered people of all nationalities to our town for the Cavan International Song Contest.
The Sports Centre may no longer exist, but in minds and memories near and far – the place still holds a Full-House.
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