Remember Wordle?
The Mastermind-like game where you try to guess a five-letter word using six guesses?
It has a hold on my soul.
For those unfamiliar with Wordle and missed the temporary craze, each guess will have letters highlighted in different colours.
Letters in the right spot are given a green box, letters which are correct but in the wrong spot are yellow, and letters which aren’t in the word at all are black (or white, depending on whether you’re either playing in dark mode, or you’re playing it in the wrong mode).
It had a brief, dizzying high after it went viral, and then its creator sold it to the New York Times for several squillion dollars (citation needed), and then like pogs, Pokemon Go and a million other short-term fads, it disappeared.
I never stopped playing. This might sound like I’m trying to brag, but I know I’m the lamest man in the world and saying I still play Wordle is the furthest thing from a brag.
I kept going partially because my parents started just as the faze fizzed out, and it was a nice way to let them know I’m alive without actually have to phone them once a week.
(I still call my mum at least once a week, get off my back.)
Despite the at-times intense rivalry which can develop in the family Wordle chat, and the same in the office with my boss Christine Anderson, the banter is not the main reason I’m still going.
I’m still going because I’m completely unable to stop.
I’m still chasing my white whale, harpoon in hand.
I need to get the word in one solitary guess.
Thursday will be the 400th time I play Wordle, and it will be the 400th time I open with the word SNAKE.
On October 28, 2022, the word was SNEAK, and I’ve never been so close to God as in that moment.
There are 2309 eligible Wordle words.
Thursday will be word 592.
If I have to keep playing for 1717 more days — nearly five more years — I will.
I need this hole-in-one.
I need to be free of this relentless curse.
Wordle is coiled around my heart, a snake squeezing my soul.
I won’t rest easy until I slay it.
EDIT: My father has demanded an amendment to this article, to tell the world he achieved the hole-in-one once with ‘DREAM’.
He said he felt “oh yeah - whatever” after achieving my lifelong dream. Bastard.
Max Stainkamph is the deputy editor at The News