Scrabble Prodigy Mack Meller Minds His Ps and Qs, Catches a Few Zs, and Is Never at a Loss for Words
n 2011, Mack Meller went to Stamford, Connecticut, for a Scrabble tournament. In the fi rst round, as he was settling in, the tournament director interrupted play for an announcement. This was highly irregular. But the news warranted it: Joel Sherman, a forty-nine-year-old former world champion from the Bronx, had just fi nished a game with 803 points — a new world record in tournament play and the fi rst time a tournament player had ever broken 800. Meller and his opponent, having stopped their clocks (in tournament Scrabble each player is allotted twenty-fi ve minutes to make all of his or her plays), placed their tiles face down and walked over to Sherman’s board. So did lots of other players. Meller couldn’t believe it. Eight hundred! That was Scrabble’s holy grail. Sherman had used all seven of his letters — called a “bingo” and good for fi fty extra points — seven times. It was a feat for the ages, but Sherman didn’t win the tournament. Meller did. He was eleven years old. t’s Thursday night, and Meller, now a lanky, sociable seventeen-year-old Columbia fi rst-year, leaves his room in Furnald Hall and heads for the subway. He carries his Scrabble traveling bag, which contains a round board, a chess clock, and a drawstring sack fi lled with exactly one hundred yellow plastic tiles. He gets out in Midtown and walks to a fi fteen-story building at Lexington and East 58th, where, in a room on the twelfth fl oor, the Manhattan Scrabble Club holds its weekly rodeo.
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