I really like mahjong, especially when I'm playing an unwinnable and hopeless game, that's when I'm having the most fun, when I'm almost reaching the point of tears.
The suffering, the struggling, the unfairness.
Fighting just to turn the score in your odds even if the chance of it happening is basically 0, even if the wall is laughing at you, even if your opponents are luckshitting and kicking you in the stomach.
And you know it's pointless, and that you are likely never going to make it, but maybe a miracle can still save you, somehow.

It's not the big hands, it's not the autistic optimization, nor the easy luckshitting that makes mahjong worth it for me. It's the cope that maybe my soul is strong enough to keep fighting injustice, overcome the universe itself and claim back what was once mine. Even if I know it's never going to happen.
Even if I know it's pointless.
I still fight.