COMMENTARY: Big Ticket Bingo, my favorite/least favorite game

By Grace Bonamico

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It was only the second day of the semester, and already Five Towns College was hosting one of my favorite campus events, and one of the most emotionally exhausting games I know: Big Ticket Bingo. Since my second semester in the spring of 2024, I’ve made it a point to attend the event whenever possible, showing up with the same hopeful optimism each time. I’ve never won so much as a keychain. Still, I keep coming back, chasing the same prize everyone else in the room has their eye on: a television.

Big Ticket Bingo gives away TVs often, just often enough to make them feel attainable. Over the semesters, I’ve come painfully close, sometimes missing the winning number by only one or two calls. That near-miss heartbreak has become part of the experience. Walking into the event this time, I felt the familiar mix of excitement and dread. I told myself, confidently, and perhaps foolishly, that today was the day. I was finally going to win the TV.*

I arrived with friends Tyler McCready and Sam Clopper, fellow Mass Communications students. We claimed seats near the front of the room, strategically close to the prize table. Sitting there, I could see everything laid out in plain view, but most importantly, a 50-inch Vizio 4K smart TV. Seeing it in person only intensified my determination. It felt like a sign.

Right before the first round began, donuts were set out for students. I grabbed one without really knowing what kind it was, but it turned out to be surprisingly good, the kind of small win that gives you a boost of confidence going into a game you desperately want to conquer.

The goal for the first round was to make an F on the bingo board, with the prize being Five Towns College–branded gear from the shop in the Downbeat. As the bingo cage started spinning, that familiar rush of excitement hit. The sound of the balls rattling around signaled that the game was officially underway.

The round started not very well for me. I didn’t have two of the first three numbers called, and the one I did have, I-19, wasn’t particularly helpful. Still, as the game went on, I managed to pick up a few numbers here and there. Some were useful, others not so much. Midway through the round, I got distracted by a text from a friend saying she needed to buy more jars, ironic, considering I had been with her last week when she bought 20 of them. That brief distraction caused me to miss a few numbers, including G-55, which I needed, and I only caught it thanks to my friends who pointed it out.

In the end, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t even close to completing the F when someone else called bingo. The first round was over. One down, two to go. The TV was still within reach.

The second round immediately felt more intense. This time, players had to form a T on their boards, and the prize was an Instax camera. The energy in the room noticeably shifted when this was announced, with students leaning forward in their seats, fully locked in.

Once again, I missed two of the first three numbers called, and the one I did get, G-46, didn’t bring me any closer to a T. A few calls later, N-38 was announced, and suddenly things started to look up. With each number, the anticipation in the room grew louder and heavier, almost distracting enough to make you miss what was happening on your own board.

I didn’t realize how close I was until it was too late. I was only a few numbers away, two, to be exact, when someone across the room shouted “Bingo!” Just like that, the round was over. I stared down at my board in disbelief. So close, yet so far.

This was it, the final round and my last chance. All that stood between me and the TV was a C-shaped pattern on my board. I finally noticed the strange trend as the round began: for the third time that afternoon, I didn’t have the first two numbers called, but I did have the third, G-51. And history repeated itself for a third time, as it wasn’t very helpful.

As the game went on, I tuned out everything else. The conversations, the movement in the room, the prizes on the table, none of it mattered. My focus narrowed to my board and the numbers being called. About halfway through, I started to worry that the numbers I was getting weren’t lining up the way I needed them to. Almost immediately after that thought crossed my mind, G-47 was called, a number I desperately needed. The tension in the room was palpable as the remaining balls dwindled. When I took a moment to assess my board, my heart sank. I was five numbers away. Five numbers away from winning a TV. It was close enough to be hopeful, but far enough to hurt.

Then, inevitably, someone else called “Bingo!” For the fourth time in my Big Ticket Bingo career, I had come painfully close, close enough to imagine somehow getting that TV back home, but not close enough to actually win it.

I didn’t leave with a prize, but I didn’t leave disappointed either. I spent the afternoon with friends, shared laughs, and eased myself into the rhythm of a new semester. And just like I say every time, I’m confident that next time will be different. Next time, that TV is mine.

*This was said confidently before the game began, before I won absolutely nothing.