It’s only Wordle and Wordle is all he has

By SCOTT SAALMAN

Scaramouch

The last thing the world really needs right now is another word nerd writing about his or her Wordle experiences, causing readers to suffer through some egomaniacal writer’s blow-by-blow account of solving Wordle’s “word of the day” in six tries or less.

It’s as painful as hearing a golfer talk about a hole-in-one.

I once made a hole-in-one. My tee-off on a country club’s first hole sliced so errantly that the ball landed inside a green dumpster 20 yards away near the clubhouse. The ball ricocheted several times within the dumpster’s walls so noisily that foursomes before us ducked as if in the crosshairs of a fairway sniper. It was the shot heard around the golf course. It was embarrassing. My membership friend who invited me as a guest never invited me back.

Technically, it was a dumpster-in-one not a hole-in-one, but it sure makes for a better golf story.

Back to Wordle. Prestigious newspapers and magazines, as of late, are allowing staffers space to post their Wordle musings online. I repeat, nothing could be more boring to read. This must stop before there are no readers left to subscribe.

But with that said, have I got one doozy of a Wordle story for you.

Before I dig deeper into my own Wordle wabbit hole, I will pause here, my handful of faithful readers, to offer you a COLUMN ESCAPE HATCH, an invitation to step away and focus on something more important to your life, either because you really don’t care (I understand) about my stupid Wordle story (despite how awesome it really is) or because you simply have never even heard of Wordle. Consider it my Get Out Of Hell Free card to you.

Wordle is a web-based word game. Each day, Wordle releases a blank grid five squares wide and six squares deep. The object is to figure out the “word of the day.” The first step is to simply make a lucky guess and spell out a five-letter word for your first turn. You are then alerted to which letters initially selected are indeed a part of the word of the day, including which letters are already in the correct square (the lettered square turns green) and which letters are part of the daily word but actually belong in a different square (the lettered square turns brownish). You have six turns to figure out the word.

(Editor’s note to Scott: You are down to two readers.)

When I first heard about Wordle in January, I ignored it. I’m a purist at heart when it comes to the art of Scrabble (“the thinking man’s chess”) so I tend to avoid other word game riffraff (an exception being the New York Times’ daily Spelling Bee game).

My daughter Delaney convinced me to try Wordle for the first time on Jan. 29. I figured out the word COULD in four tries, frustrated that it took so long to crack the code to such a boring verb, yet intrigued enough to hopefully solve a Wordle in only two turns eventually. To solve the puzzle in one turn seemed improbable.

(Editor’s note to Scott: You lost another reader. Pick up the pace, man!)

My dear and final reader, here’s where my story gets really exciting. On Feb. 4, only seven days into my Wordle addiction, I achieved the unthinkable: I solved the puzzle in one turn. I kid you not. A WORD-IN-ONE!

I still remember the glorious moment. I was on lunch break. I was in an A E mood, so I started with the first word that came to mind containing A and E.

I entered PLEAT, a word I can’t recall ever speaking prior.

The P square turned green. The L square turned green. The E square turned green. The A square turned green. The T square turned green. Five green squares on the first turn!

(Editor’s note to Scott: You lost your last reader!)

I couldn’t believe my good luck. A Google search revealed that to guess one of the 12,972 accepted five-letter words at random on the first try, your chances are less than a hundredth of a percent.

Less than a hundredth of a percent! I’m math impaired, but I’m certain it means the odds are very low, as low as, say, someone still reading today’s column.

I likely used PLEAT in conversation a hundred times over the following few days. My poor wife. I was so excited, yet there was also a sense of ominousness associated with overcoming such daunting odds. A comic strip came to mind from Cracked “mazagine” in the ‘70s, during which a cowboy named Sagebrush proclaims to have finally found “the meaning to life,” only to get struck immediately by lightning in the next panel. I worried. Will I get struck by lightning, too?

The recent obituary of a guy I knew (he was not struck by lightning) referenced his nine hole-in-ones (now he’s the one in a hole), making me think I should reference my “word-in-one” in my obituary (perhaps just before listing my survivors’ names).

On Feb. 5, still feeling lucky from the day before, I played Powerball for the first time in years.

Did I win, you ask?

(Editor’s note to Scott: Get over yourself. No one is left to even ask that question.)

That this column is about Wordle is answer enough.

Email Scott at scottsaalman@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @SaalmanScott.