How to Play Cribbage: Mastering the Art of This Timeless Card Game
I've been playing cribbage for nearly thirty years now, and I still remember the first time my grandfather taught me the game on his worn wooden board with ivory pegs. There's something deeply satisfying about this centuries-old game that keeps drawing me back to it, something that goes beyond just counting to 121.
Cribbage occupies this peculiar space in the card game universe. It's not quite as simple as gin rummy, but it's nowhere near as complex as bridge. What makes it special is how it rewards both mathematical precision and gut instinct in equal measure. You can calculate odds all day long, but sometimes you just have to feel which cards to throw into the crib.
The Basics You Actually Need to Know
Let me start with what really matters. Cribbage is played with a standard 52-card deck, and you're racing to 121 points. Why 121? Nobody really knows for sure, though I've heard theories ranging from mathematical elegance to the whims of Sir John Suckling, who supposedly invented the game in the early 1600s. What I do know is that 121 creates the perfect tension – games rarely end in blowouts, but they don't drag on forever either.
You'll need a cribbage board to keep score. Yes, you could use paper and pencil, but that's like eating sushi with a fork – technically possible but missing the point entirely. The board has two tracks of 60 holes each, plus a game hole. You'll use pegs to mark your score, leapfrogging them as you go. There's a visceral pleasure in slamming down that rear peg when you score a big hand.
The game works best with two players, though you can play with three or four. I'll focus on two-player cribbage here because that's the purest form of the game, the one where strategy really shines.
Dealing and the Crib
Each player gets six cards. Now comes your first real decision: you need to throw two cards into the "crib" – a separate hand that belongs to the dealer. This is where cribbage gets interesting. Those two cards you discard? They're not gone. The dealer gets to count them for points later, along with whatever their opponent threw.
I've seen new players agonize over this decision, and rightfully so. Throwing the wrong cards into your opponent's crib can cost you the game. When it's your crib, you want to salt it with good cards. When it's theirs, you're trying to throw garbage without wrecking your own hand.
After everyone discards, the non-dealer cuts the deck, and the dealer flips the top card of the bottom portion. This becomes the "starter" or "cut" card. If it's a jack, the dealer immediately scores two points – we call this "his heels" or "his nibs," depending on where you learned the game. These quirky terms are part of cribbage's charm. The game has its own language, passed down through generations of players.
The Play: Where Psychology Meets Mathematics
Now we play our cards, alternating turns, trying to make the running total add up to specific numbers. You score points for hitting exactly 15 (two points) or 31 (two points). You also score for making pairs, runs, and other combinations during play.
Here's where it gets tactical. Say I play a 7 and announce "seven." You might play an 8, announcing "fifteen for two" and moving your pegs. But if you play another 7, you'd announce "fourteen for two" (because you paired my 7). If I then play a third 7, I'd score six points for three of a kind.
The key constraint: the running total can never exceed 31. If you can't play without going over, you say "go," and your opponent continues playing cards until they can't play either. The last person to play scores a point. Then you start a new count from zero with whatever cards remain.
This phase rewards card counting and memory. I try to track what's been played, especially face cards and aces. If three kings are out and I'm holding the fourth, I know it's safe from being paired. These little edges add up over hundreds of hands.
Counting Your Hand: The Heart of Cribbage
After the play, you count your hands. This is where cribbage reveals its mathematical beauty. You count your four cards plus the starter card for various combinations:
Pairs are worth 2 points. Three of a kind? That's actually three different pairs, so 6 points. Four of a kind counts as six pairs for 12 points. Runs of three or more cards score their length in points. Any combination that adds to 15 scores 2 points.
Then there's the flush – four cards of the same suit in your hand score 4 points, or 5 if the starter matches. But here's a quirk: in the crib, all five cards must be the same suit to score a flush. Why? Because cribbage said so, that's why. These arbitrary rules give the game character.
The non-dealer counts first, then the dealer counts their hand, then the dealer counts the crib. This order matters more than you'd think. I've won games by a single point because I was dealing on the final hand and got to count last.
The Elusive 29
Every cribbage player dreams of the perfect 29-point hand. You need three 5s and a jack in your hand, with the fourth 5 as the starter card – and that jack must match the suit of the starter. I've seen it exactly once in three decades of play, and yes, the guy who got it bought drinks for the whole bar.
More common is the 24-point hand (four 5s and any face card), which I've held maybe a dozen times. There's also the infamous 19-point hand, which is cribbage slang for zero points – no such score is possible, so announcing "nineteen" is a self-deprecating way to admit you've got nothing.
Strategy That Actually Works
Most cribbage strategy guides will tell you to keep your 5s because they combine easily with face cards to make 15. This is true but incomplete. The real insight is that cribbage strategy changes dramatically based on your position in the game.
If you're behind, you need to take risks. Keep that 5-J combination even if it means throwing good cards to your opponent's crib. If you're ahead, play defense. I'll often break up a good hand to avoid giving my opponent's crib any 5s or consecutive cards.
The dealer has a roughly 5-point advantage per hand – between the crib and the guarantee of counting last. This means you should play more aggressively as non-dealer and more conservatively when dealing. I've seen players ignore this and wonder why they keep losing close games.
Pegging strategy during the play phase is its own art form. Sometimes you want to pair your opponent's card for easy points. Sometimes that's exactly what they want you to do because they're holding the third card for a triple. Reading your opponent becomes crucial. Do they hesitate before playing? Do they always lead with their lowest card? Everyone has tells.
The Culture of Cribbage
Cribbage isn't just a game; it's a subculture. Walk into any American Legion hall or small-town bar in New England, and you'll find a cribbage board behind the bar. The game has been a staple of military life since at least World War I. Submariners play it to pass time on long deployments. I learned half of what I know about the game from an old Navy chief who'd slam the table every time he pegged points.
There's an etiquette to cribbage that nobody writes down but everyone knows. You announce your points as you peg them. You let your opponent count their hand without interruption, then you can claim any points they missed – this is called "muggins" and whether you play with it or not says something about what kind of player you are. You never touch another player's cards. You cut exactly once, no fancy shuffling.
Why Cribbage Endures
In an age of flashy modern board games with custom dice and elaborate themes, cribbage endures because it's perfectly designed. The luck element keeps games close, but skill wins out over time. The scoring system creates natural tension – you're always either barely ahead or barely behind. The vocabulary and rituals give it character.
But mostly, cribbage endures because it's a game best played repeatedly with the same opponent. You develop a rivalry, a history. You remember the time they skunked you (won by more than 30 points) or when you needed exactly 5 points to win and miraculously cut a 5 from the deck. These stories accumulate like the wear marks on an old cribbage board.
I taught my daughter to play when she turned twelve, using the same patient explanations my grandfather used with me. She beats me now about a third of the time, and I couldn't be prouder. That's the thing about cribbage – it's not really about the cards or the points. It's about the conversation between hands, the satisfying click of pegs on wood, the accumulated wisdom passed from one generation to the next.
If you're going to learn cribbage, find someone who loves the game to teach you. Buy a decent board – avoid the cheap folding ones and get something solid wood that will last. Play regularly with the same people. Learn the language, embrace the quirks, and don't get too frustrated when you throw your opponent a dozen points by accident.
That's cribbage. It's maddening and satisfying in equal measure, a game that reveals itself slowly over years of play. Once it gets its hooks in you, you'll find yourself carrying a travel board in your bag, always ready for a quick game. You'll start seeing fifteens and runs everywhere. You'll bore non-players with stories about impossible hands and last-second victories.
Welcome to the club. Your deal.
Authoritative Sources:
Wergin, Joseph. Win at Cribbage. Oldcastle Books, 2000.
Anderson, Douglas. All About Cribbage. Winchester Press, 1971.
Colvert, Dan. Play Winning Cribbage. Sterling Publishing, 2009.
"Cribbage." Encyclopedia Britannica, Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., www.britannica.com/topic/cribbage.
American Cribbage Congress. Official Tournament Rules of Cribbage. American Cribbage Congress, 2016.