Evil Sudoku

Sudoku is the number one most irritating puzzle on the face of this planet. That’s why I’m addicted to it.

Let me first say how big a fraud Sudoku is in the puzzle-making business. It lacks the sophistication of a crossword, where someone has to think up questions or clues, fit them with answers, then fit the answers in a clever pattern, often with a theme. Sudoku is stupid nine numbers in a cube, nine by nine. The questions and answers are the same in every puzzle! Furthermore, it’s completely logically based, which means no human ever has to touch puzzle generation, AND there’s A FINITE NUMBER OF POSSIBLE SOLUTIONS (a number I’m sure a computer could pronounce). The concept is so ridiculously fragile it is insane that Sudoku could be at all challenging—which is what makes it so irritating!

You are driven to find the solution, not just to the puzzle you’re working on, but to seek a universal set of rules, a code book which would unlock EVERY Sudoku puzzle.

Pairing is important. Take a three by three cube and only write down the possibilities that come in pairs. Look for “covalent bonds,” my term for two pair of numbers that fall in the same two squares within a mini cube. Covalent bonds bump all other possibilities out of those two cubes. They are especially useful if the two squares align with a column or row. Probably you know this already.

Once you define the covalent bonds, work the puzzle again and look for new gimmies. This is simple stuff.

When you’re stuck again, try to balance the puzzle. Look for where a significant twin in one mini cube matches a significant twin in another mini cube along the same row or column. Think about squares that are pivot points, and which significant numbers are more important than others. That’s the tricky part.

When I buy a new puzzle book, I start in the “diabolical” section and work backwards. By the time I get to the beginning of “hard,” it’s just busy work without thought. I have my personal pitfalls, though. Six is hard for me to see apparently; I’ve noticed that if I’m going to mess up anywhere, it will be with a number six. And I can significantly handicap myself with alcohol; even the bunny slope grids are hard for me to complete after only one beer.

So this makes me ask myself, could I beat all puzzles if I truly concentrate? Or is it like lobbing in tennis with me? I can squarely play against an opponent with a low return; however, an opponent who lobs to me every time will defeat me. It’s not because the lobber is a better player; it is because I will wear myself out always running after the ball to return it with force. That is simply a strategy I cannot beat. Are there Sudoku solutions I cannot beat because of me who I am?

Here is my new principle: In a naturally balanced grid, where all open squares have paired possibilities except for one square with three possibilities, the most insignificant of the triple is the answer to that square.

If you think too hard, you can completely balance every grid. It is very logical and feels right, but then you cannot solve the puzzle. If you force balance the grid, you corner yourself into making an irrational decision that will not be correct. The grid is based on nine squares, an odd number, and therefore must be unbalanced in order to solve. You have to make that logical decision as to where it will be unbalanced, then the puzzle is yours.

Any Sudoku player knows that if you start finding answers quickly and if the puzzle suddenly becomes easy, then you’ve done something wrong and you’re soon going to meet yourself putting the same number in a row, column or mini-cube. That’s why I have confidence in my new principle. I can only test it on Saturday or Sunday puzzles, and I haven’t had enough naturally balancing occurrences to say my solution is FDA approved. I’m going to have to disprove my new principle slowly, but the slowness has its appeal. If I solve Sudoku as a whole with a complete set of universal rules, then I’d have to take up Cribbage.