Lafayette’s Grande Dame de Mah Jongg, Pat Link, is experiencing a peak in popularity, just like the strategic tile game she loves.
At 92, in what she calls her third era of life (teaching and tour organizing were her first two), she has turned her home into a Mah Jongg parlor where she welcomes players, up to six times a week, to clack tiles and enjoy the comradery that forms around the tables.
The game has multiple accepted spellings, but Link teaches and plays by the rules ofthe National Mah Jongg League, which uses “Mah Jongg.”
On a recent game day, Link welcomed new players to learn more about the game that is played obsessively by its adorers. With coiffed hair, full makeup and an aura of calm concentration, she presided over her Vegas-style automatedtable in a back room of her home.
As the table sucked a set of tiles down a hole in its center, she gave players a quick history lesson while showing off her antique wooden tile set which included what she playfully called, “Mr. Babineaux’s red book of rules,” explaining, “I’m originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, but for some reason, I want to Cajun-ify Joseph Park Babcock.”
Babcock, born in Lafayette, Indiana, was an employee of Standard Oil in China who brought “Mah-Jongg” to the United States in the early 1920s. His red book of rules is considered closer to the rules of China where the game originated — closer than the over 40 known variations played globally.
The ladies around Link’s table — with its well-lit, self-rolling dice— had dabbled in some of these variations.
Carol Saucier, the longest-playing participant with 45 years of tile clacking under her belt, learned the Wright-Patterson variation, created by the Officer’s Wives Club at the Air Force base of the same name. Someone had played Riichi, a Japanese form, on vacation once.
Before she connected with Link, Leslie Leonpacher learned a form of party Mah Jongg which the table dubbed “Cahj Jongg,” when they heard her description of the loose rules and lack of cards.
Around Link’s tables, players follow the rules of the National Mah Jongg League which uses “the card”— a small folding brochure covered in what appears to be colorful hieroglyphics but actually are lists of various hands (patterned tile combinations) needed to win. Link explained that, as you play, the patterns become ingrained in your mental muscle memory.
At the table, players swiftly discarded and pulled symbol-rich printed tiles, attention focused, calling out, “Three dot … Eight bam … Six crack … Red dragon.”
“The game is stimulating and challenging. It’s neurologically good for you,” Link said.
“Unless you lose all the time, then you want to kill people,” one player said, countering with a smile, despite being down $2.
The monetary stakes are low, serving more as a way to keep score rather than to get rich; some days they play only for prizes.
Just when players have memorized the hands listed on the card, the Mah Jongg New Year rolls around on April 1, and the National League issues new cards with new hands to learn— one of the reasons cited when people talk about the cognitive benefits of the game.
At the nonautomated table in Link’s dining room, the tiles made a clickety-clacking sound as they were shuffled. Collectively shifting and tumbling the hard, smooth tiles, each player relaxed their focus and the chatting flowed. There was talk of plans for the weekend, upcoming tournaments and past games.
The question arose, “Why is Mah Jongg so popular now?”
“I would love to know,” said Link, who has been playing for 32 years and teaching the game for over a decade, adding, “I’ve met so many people. My life wouldn’t be as rich without Mah Jongg. I’m never lonely.”
A couple of players cited the pandemic, as it was a game people could play outdoors. Coming out of those isolating times, people were eager to gather together and reconnect. Another person mentioned the 2018 movie, “Crazy Rich Asians,” which features an intense Mah Jongg scene.
No matter the reason, the game is hot right now— even the South Regional Library branch of the Lafayette Public Library is hosting lessons. By her estimates, Link has taught over half of Lafayette’s players.
She has devised lesson plans to teach groups of four to six players the National Mah Jongg Leaguevariation in eight weeks. She starts with learning the tiles, then the history, then the “touchy-feely” of the tiles, followed by the rules in incremental steps. Her final advice to learners is to play online as much as possible to create the mental muscle memory required to play swiftly since the game is most fun when it flows at a good pace. (On her handle is “allons.”)
Link is an advocate of the National League rules— the standard for tournaments. People seek her out for her commitment to the rules as well as her no-nonsense approach which she mixes with a dry sense of humor. Using the organizational skills she honed in her second era of life as owner of the tour company Allons a Lafayette, she recently helped her granddaughter host a highly successful charity fundraising tournament in Shreveport.
In Lafayette, she hosts an annual tournament, scheduled for June 23 this year, at the Petroleum Club.
“For Pat, it’s about building community,” Leonpacher said.
One of Link’s recently widowed students shared that Mah Jongg helps her to fill the void after her husband's death.It’s a planned event that allows her to meet people, giving her an added dimension to life.
“Pat is the Grande Dame of Mah Jongg,” said player and student Ali Romero. “If you get invited to play at her house, you say ‘yes!'”
She recalled a time when Link had encouraged her with a wry comment that made her laugh.
“When I was new, I was nervous. Pat’s kind of scary,” Romero said. “Once, I kept complaining about not having a good hand, and she said, ‘Well, Ali, maybe you’re not a good player.’”
To an outsider, these words might sound harsh, but to sit at the table with Link and witness her take delight in the game is to know that her words are taken as encouragement by the players who adore her and show up regularly for the community she has created.