(This is a sequel to my earlier post concerning games, q.v.)

A few additional things games have tried to teach me:

1. Do not underestimate your opponent or your ally.
   "Trust your partner" is an axiom of bridge, and those who neglect it reliably do poorly in that august sport.  In life too, if one condescends to one's allies (actual or potential), one loses.  And one loses both in games and in life by playing on the assumption of the inferiority of others.
2. Play your best game.
   This is not so much in order to win as it is in order to show respect for those with whom one plays.  This implies concentrating, and mustering one's full talent, but it also implies not being overly conventional or predictable, even at the risk of losing.   Playing a boring game wastes their time and yours.  The word of Nietzsche:   "Live dangerously."   In other words:   Play the game in earnest.   Step out a bit, for, in the words of the Sex Pistols:   "You don't do what you want and you fade away."
3. Resignation is honorable.
   This is (I believe) an old chess proverb, but it applies everywhere.   Knowing when to stop avoids wasting your time, and your opponents', and allows you to move on to the next, presumably better game, or a new stage of the same game.   Our moving to the Devil's Litterbox, b/k/a the San Joaquin Valley, was informed by this sort of consideration.   In the literature, philosophical and economic, on decision theory, a lively debate has emerged on the issue of calculating on sunk costs.  
   So far as I can tell, the smart money says to stop throwing money in the well after it clearly establishes its disinclination to grant your wishes.   Some disagree with this, of course...