[Bob's note: I'm very pleased to have Linda contributing to the blog today. Linda has been playing mahjong for almost as long as I have, and while she tends to be quieter about her strategic insights, I can tell you from firsthand experience that she is one of the most underrated players I've ever sat across from. She was initially hesitant to write for the blog, but I encouraged her, and she's put together a piece about the intersection of mahjong and married life. I think you'll find it relatable. — B.L.]

Mahjong has been a part of our marriage for a long time. Bob and I started playing around the same time, and we've always tried to keep it as something we enjoy together.

I think the most important thing is to remember that it's a game. Win or lose, the important thing is the time you spend together at the table.

[Bob's note: That's Linda's contribution. I told her she could expand on it if she wanted to, but she said that was fine and that I should "fill in whatever else you want to say." So here are some additional thoughts on the topic from my perspective.]

What Linda says above is absolutely true, and I want to build on it, because I think the relationship between mahjong and marriage is one of those topics that people think about but rarely discuss openly.

The "Mahjong Couple" Dynamic

Linda and I play at the same table on Wednesday nights. We've been doing this for years. This creates a unique dynamic that I think is worth examining for other couples who find themselves in a similar situation.

The central tension is this: you are, simultaneously, partners in life and competitors at the table. These roles are not naturally compatible. In life, you support each other. In mahjong, you are trying to defeat each other. Navigating this tension requires communication, maturity, and a clear understanding of boundaries.

I will be honest: this has not always been easy. There have been Wednesday nights where a disagreement at the table has carried over into the car ride home. There have been moments where I've made a call that put Linda's hand in jeopardy and she has—in my reading of the situation—taken it personally. These are growing pains. Every mahjong couple experiences them.

The Issue of Information Sharing

This is the most sensitive topic, and I want to handle it carefully.

When a married couple plays at the same table, there is a natural concern from other players that the couple might share information. This is cheating. Let me be unambiguous about this: Linda and I do not share information during play. We do not communicate about our hands. We do not signal each other. We do not discuss strategy during games in any way that would give one of us an advantage over the other players at the table.

Has this been questioned? Yes. It has. Most notably at a game in January 2003 where a player named Helen accused me of "tipping off" Linda by the way I arranged my rack. This accusation was baseless. I arrange my rack the same way every time—numerically by suit, with flowers at the right end. That's my system. It has nothing to do with what Linda is doing.

Helen and I discussed the matter afterward and she apologized, but the accusation lingered. This is the kind of thing that mahjong couples have to deal with, and it's unfair. We are competitors who happen to be married. The marriage does not make us co-conspirators.

Post-Game Discussion

After games, Linda and I will sometimes discuss hands. This is, in my view, entirely appropriate and, frankly, essential for improvement. The car ride home after Wednesday night has become an informal strategy review session. I'll talk through hands that I played, and Linda will share her perspective.

These discussions have made both of us better players. Linda has a strong intuitive sense for when to abandon a hand—she's better at this than I am, and I've learned from watching her. I believe I'm stronger on the strategic planning side—knowing which hands to pursue based on the initial Charleston—and I think Linda has benefited from hearing my thought process.

The key is that these discussions happen AFTER the game. Never during. The boundary is clear and non-negotiable.

Linda as a Player

I want to take a moment to talk about Linda as a player, because I don't think she gets enough credit. She's not flashy. She doesn't call dramatic kongs or pursue high-risk hands. She plays a steady, methodical game. She reads the table well. She discards conservatively. And she wins—maybe not as often as she could if she took more risks, but she wins consistently, which is a different and, I would argue, more valuable skill.

At the 2004 Tri-County Open, Linda finished 9th out of 28. That's solidly above median, and she did it with a style of play that rarely draws attention. She doesn't need attention. She just wins.

(I finished 14th. We don't dwell on this.)

In Conclusion

Mahjong has been good for our marriage. It gives us a shared language, a shared activity, and a shared community. The challenges are real but manageable. If you're considering playing mahjong with your spouse, my advice is to have the conversation early about boundaries, to be honest about how you handle competition, and to remember that the game is ultimately about enjoyment.

Linda asked me to add that she'd like to write more for the blog in the future, possibly about tile arrangement and storage solutions. I told her she's welcome to contribute anytime.

— Bob Loblaw, with thanks to Linda Loblaw