Rules Discussion: King-making

Last week, a buddy of mine mentioned a concept that is somewhat rampant in board games: king-making. As far as I understand it, king-making involves when one or more players have no chance to win in a particular game; in that game, those players may choose (together or individually) to elevate a particular player who has a good chance of winning. Obviously, this is an element of directly confrontational multi-player games; a prime example is Risk, in which one or more players can ally to battle a superior foe. It's also an element of games that involve acquisition of a finite amount of resources or positions to occupy; in games like Stone Age or Alien Frontiers, you can block an opponent by seizing a spot and/or collecting resources before that opponent.

I can't think of many excellent examples right now, but king-making can be frustrating for the front-runner who is playing extremely well, but is squashed by two opponents who think that the fourth player in the mix should be the victor. Based on my experience, this is often not a conscious decision, per se, but rather a response to being in an untenable position. Players never start a game thinking about what they would do if they are losing; yet, when they are position in which victory is nigh impossible, they may make a snap judgment to play some kind of role besides "also-ran"; in other words, when all else is lost, you might as well play the "spoiler."

In my opinion, king-making is a kind of "cheese" because one loses not because he or she made a mistake or just didn't get favorable outcomes, but because of other people and their machinations. I've always thought that the sweetest victory is when one plays his or her best game and wins, especially when all other players have played their best games and there were few, if any, mistakes made by anyone. To win because you played better than a bunch of great players is truly an exhilarating experience, but losing to king-making doesn't feel fun at all. Instead, one feels like victory was robbed from him or her by also-rans so that some other player could win. I suppose this is inherent to gaming, but, unlike many things in life, the self-imposed drive to win should spur every player to play their best, even when they cannot win instead of trying to knock the current leader out. In a way, by being a selfish game player, you are being generous by giving all other players the best competition you can; this makes games fun, whether those games are board, card, video, or sports games. King-making rings of "sour grapes" to me.

NBA Jam: 2HN Basketball Buffoonery

During my UCLA days in the early to mid-1990s, the video game console wars were in full effect with Sega and Nintendo jockeying for the top spot in the marketplace, specifically the media war between the Sega Genesis and the Super Nintendo. At the time, people either owned one or the other and rarely owned both, as if either company loyalty was that important or consoles and games were just too expensive to invest in two separate systems. As consoles became closer to arcade quality in their presentation of graphics and sound, video game cabinet manufacturers seemed to up the ante, having already introduced laserdisc-based games like Dragon's Lair and Firefox (based on the Clint Eastwood movie) and rolling out games with superior graphics, sound, and two-player gameplay like the once-ubiquitous Street Fighter II, Mortal Kombat, and NBA Jam. Initially, Sega and Nintendo, though capable of (then) superlative home-based video games, struggled to convert arcade-based games like Street Fighter II and NBA Jam to their consoles... but they eventually succeeded with differing results. While Nintendo (and, to some extent, Sega) did well to port Street Fighter II to the Super Nintendo, NBA Jam was not nearly the game it was in the arcade.

For anyone who wasn't born before 1990, let me introduce you to the concept of NBA Jam: it's essentially two-on-two basketball with 1990s NBA basketball stars. Do you like the Lakers? Well, you can play with James Worthy and Vlade Divac. Do you like the Golden State Warriors and long for the days of Run-TMC (Tim Hardaway, Mitch Richmond, and Chris Mullin)? Cool, because you could play with Hardaway and Mullin. Oh, you say that you love the Bulls? Of course, you can play with Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen... or NOT! Instead, you got Pippen and Horace Grant. How about Orlando Magic? Okay, you got Shaquille O'Neal, but you only got Penny Hardaway depending on which console you played the game. Much of who appeared in NBA Jam was dependent on licensing issues and the issues individual players had with royalties and such monetary concerns.

When it came to gameplay, it didn't matter with whom one played because NBA Jam was all about two things: thunderous dunks and fiery three-pointers. The fun of this game was in its uncomplicated, yet undeniably cheesy gameplay which often went like this: with one of your players (it really didn't matter who), you dribble the ball up the floor and either pass to your other player and dunk with heart-pumping authority or you loft a three-pointer from "way downtown." The first dunk of a streak of dunks was rather perfunctory, but the more a particular player dunked, the more acrobatic and gravity-defying the animations became. Likewise, the more a player drained three-pointers, the more the ball would burst into flame and the console or arcade cabinet's speakers would declare that he was "ON FIRE!" or "En fuego!"

The graphics of NBA Jam in the arcade were bright, garish, and eye-popping with each player looking like bobbleheads that are handed out at baseball stadiums as promotional items. Besides that, the uniforms of the players were shadowy reflections of the real-life uniforms, though the home floor of each team was emblazoned with that team's logos and colors to remind us that this WAS the NBA. What was even more indelible in my memory, however, was the sounds of the game: the crowd cheering, the realistic screech of sneakers on hardwood, and the play-by-play announcers' exclamatory remarks all created a hyper-realistic feel that went beyond anything one would watch during an NBA game on television.

In the 1990s, NBA Jam was ever-present in arcades on UCLA's campus and in local arcades and amusement centers I used to visit. I may have played the arcade version of the game once or twice on a lark, but I don't remember doing so. Yet, I'll always recall the NBA Jam announcer blurting, "Rony Seikaly... for three... He's on fire!" even though Rony Seikaly was not known for his three-point shooting. People used to line up their quarters to challenge the reigning player in the arcade; those battles were certainly fun to watch, at least for a few minutes. I never really developed an interest in NBA Jam, but I appreciated its presence in the arcades, at least because the game only added to the animated, noisy buffoonery that was, and still is, inherent to the video arcade lifestyle and motif.

Just last weekend, my wife and I happened upon a garage sale in one of the older homes in our area. Being a semi-avid video game cartridge collector, I reasoned (and hoped) that this older home would have a treasure trove of older games and consoles because the older homes were where peoples lived long enough to accumulate junk from the 1990s and before. Sure enough, I rummaged through a box of discarded and dusty game consoles to find a filthy Super Nintendo console and two cartridges: NBA Jam and Super Mario World 2 (about which I will write later). Both cartridges set me back a few bucks, which I handed to the homeowner with a thin veneer of calm hiding the unrepentant joy and enthusiasm that welled up from within me. Those cartridges were an uncommon find, especially now when savvy sellers are well-aware of the value of retro game cartridges on eBay. I gleefully took both cartridges home, gingerly yet aggressively cleaned the copper pins with Windex and Q-Tips, and washed the outsides of both cartridges with some Greased Lightning and a microfiber cloth. Thankfully, I got both cartridges working in my trusty Retro Duo.

I discovered two things that day: one was that Super Mario World 2 was as awesome as what I had read in a couple of reviews; the other was the NBA Jam on the Super Nintendo was a poor imitation of the arcade version. I played NBA Jam on the SNES for a few minutes to "test" the game's functions and playability and, sadly, found it dull compared to EA Sports' NBA Live series of games. It was just pass-pass-dunk, pass-pass-three, pass-pass-have ball stolen-watch as the computer dunks on my flailing sprites. Oh well... At least the cartridge was cheap and buying it triggered enough of those nostalgic feelings about the arcades of my youth to offset how mediocre NBA  Jam for the SNES was, and still is.

Why Families Need Board Games, Part II: Reinforcing Personal Contact

My wife told me an intriguing story. During her visit to the dentist, she overheard a young girl asking her father if she could play a game on his cellular phone. My wife described the girl as being "whiny," which seems to be the chosen tone of many children. At the same time, my youngest son devoured 11 chapters of a book. Upon first hearing this story, one may not find anything that intriguing, but to me this story reinforces the importance of disconnecting from the digital and connecting to others and with concrete objects in the "real." Indeed, personal contact is one way in which board games will save the world, but the strongest impediment might be games of another kind...

The most salient trend in gaming is how games become more and more intricate and engrossing for the player: games are now more complex, more visually appealing, and more portable than ever. Games look sharper and crisper, and set the challenge bar high enough with less cheese than in the past; with games like Plague or Bad Piggies, players benefit from engaging graphics, top-notch sound effects, and enough detail and complication to occupy even the most jaded gamer. Also, gone are the days of needing a Game Gear or Game Boy or even having to pay money for cartridges; just get a smartphone or a tablet, download a free game app, and one can play most games anywhere and only have to tolerate the periodic advertisement. People can play everything from first-person shooters to virtual board games; one of my gaming buddies even played Ticket to Ride for the first time... on an iPad! No longer do you need game realia (such as game pieces or dice), console, cartridges, or even opponents; the computer can provide an opponent or opponents anytime, anywhere.

Considering the convenience of computer games now, plugging into the digital world is somewhat more appealing than whipping out a game board or game books, and finding "experienced" players is easier now that computer intelligence and game programming can frustrate veteran players without the skulduggery inherent to old video games, such as spotty hit detection. However, people are now, more than ever, tempted to disconnect from others. Many video game and computer game players may now be less apt to challenge live opponents, let alone engage a human being in conversation. Sure, people that play online RPGs can connect with players through a chat window or by audiovisual communication, but it all happens in a world disjointed from reality. 

We are becoming more isolated and separated, but this is one trend that board games can restrict. By taking out a board, some pieces, and some cards, one is required to find human opponents. Once one finds human opponents, one has to communicate with these opponents, whether it be friendly conversation or playful, competitive banter. One has to move pieces, read rules, and manipulate realia to make the game happen. People's brains take back the role computers have stolen from our unsuspecting grasps; their brains make the "graphics" move, our eyes ingest and admire the game pieces, and our hands carry these items from game table to game table. Board games anchor people in reality, while stimulating conversations, compelling players to match wits with organic foes, and even driving us to go out and find those foes.

As the "world" pulls us farther and further apart, seducing us with a hyper-reality of bright colors and endless opponents whom we would never have to befriend, it creates the illusion of interconnection with social media sites like Facebook and Twitter and deceives us into believing in our self-reliance. We buy into the idea that we don't need other people; we just need a computer. Yet, people are alone in their offices, chatting with each other through screens. It all seems so (William) Gibsonesque a la Neuromancer, but we need to touch each other; we need to touch this world. So, next time, instead of playing Ticket to Ride on a tablet, or asking Daddy for his smartphone, take the board game with you. Play Yahtzee in the doctor's office or Fluxx on the train. Invite your friends or even ask friendly passengers around you to play. We need personal contact; the "world" cannot overwhelm us if we (dare I say) stick together.

Double Dribble: 1HN Wacky Cheese Shots

(First of all, shout out to Rich for suggesting this game. I hadn't considered writing about it, but I do have some fond memories to share about it, so here goes...)

Double Dribble was a basketball game that was produced by Konami and released in 1987 in the United States. One year later, I got Double Dribble as a gift (I think). At the time, Double Dribble was the most realistic basketball simulation you could get for the NES with 5-on-5 action that at least resembled pro basketball. There were four teams named after cities (Boston, Chicago, Los Angeles, and New York), with each city differentiated by colors and mascots. When selecting your team, an on-screen character shot a ball through a hoop corresponding with that team and play began.

Double Dribble plays like any basketball game: you pass, you shoot, you rebound, and you steal the ball... again and again and again. Like many NES games, much of what happens in the game is laden with cheese as steals become rampant, opponents block each other's dunks, and fast breaks happen with alarming regularity because there are no energy meters for players. Oh, and there are those crazy shots that you can make almost 90% of the time...

I remember it well. I flew to Indiana in 1990 to visit my relatives. At the time, I was in high school and had mostly set aside video games in favor of role-playing games, but that's a previous post... Anyway, I went to my cousin's house and she had an NES console and Double Dribble. Apparently, her boyfriend, Eric, was an NES player; he declared to me that he was "pretty good" at Double Dribble. Thinking that I was "pretty good" too, I accepted his challenge to play against each other. After one 5-minute quarter, it was, like, 40 to 2 and Eric was wiping the floor with me.

How? Well, he taught me a shot that almost always worked: basically, you run your player, who is in possession of the ball, into the upper corner of the court, press down the shoot button, and then release while you are well out of bounds (but before you land). As I witnessed his Double Dribble prowess with this magic shot, I was neither embarrassed nor angry, but in sheer awe of Eric. I still hold him in high regard because of that shot. I would go on to incorporate Eric's shot into my game and began recording my scores for games with 5-minute quarters: 197-4 (with a few 2-pointers mixed in), 196-2. I even think I had a couple of shutouts... all because I could steal the ball and immediately make that wacky cheese shot.

Double Dribble is still a part of my family's NES collection, though it doesn't see much play these days. I did try to play it recently and replicate that cheese shot, but I was unable to do so. Wikipedia corroborates my recollection of that shot by explaining how to do it (as well as about other "hot spots" in the game). So, if you're looking to fascinate your friends and thoroughly trounce them with an NES game, practice the money shots and then challenge them to Double Dribble and watch them behold you with a gaze of reverent admiration.

Doorways to Adventure: 1HN Treasure Hunting, VHS-style

Back in the 1980s, you got to watch the latest movies either on cable TV or by renting the VHS cassette at a local video rental store. I am not including laserdisc or Betamax because hardly anyone owned either medium and Betamax died in the early 80s. Anyway, if you didn't have cable TV, you watched movies on VHS. In the mid-80s, Pressman, among other companies, came up with an intriguing idea: instead of using a video-cassette recorder (VCR) to just watch movies, why not create games that use VHS cassettes, along with game cards and other realia? At the time, this was a novel idea; yeah, we had Atari, Intellivision, and Colecovision (until the NES emerged in 1985), so using a TV for interactive entertainment wasn't entirely new, but using a VCR for a game was unexplored territory.

In 1986, for Christmas, I asked for two games that incorporated VHS: Doorways to Adventure and Doorways to Horror, both created by Pressman. My parents gave me Doorways to Adventure, and I am glad they did. Doorways to Adventure is actually a rather straightforward game: the object of the game is to obtain the highest combined value of treasures by the time the VHS tape ends. Let me describe the format for you. First, you watch the first segment on the tape, which was some amusing or overly dramatic scene from some classic B-level adventure or action movie (such as Abbott and Costello clips). As you watch the movie clip, you are told that there is a particular kind of treasure on which you were to bid, be it precious metals, an art object, a deed to property, or jewelry. Next, you are told that you have to pay a ransom in the form of food, clothing, a shield, or other object (in the context of gameplay, these ransom objects are special blue-backed cards you retain in your hand). If you do not possess the appropriate ransom card, you must pay a bribe from a pool of money you are given at the start of the game. After you have either paid the ransom or bribe for the object, all players put out bid cards (special yellow-backed cards) face-down and then flip the cards simultaneously. Whoever has the highest bid wins the object. After the winning player receives a treasure card corresponding with the object, someone rolls a special color-coded die; the VHS cassette is then fast-forwarded to the next clip with a "doorway" title screen with the same color as what was was rolled. These steps are repeated until the end of the tape is reached. I could go in-depth about the prevalent strategies in the game, such as which kinds of treasure are more advantageous to obtain or the role of the "Key" and how to steal it, but the basic gist of the game is that you try to end up with highest total value of treasure, all the while bidding against other players and watching some hilariously cheesy movie clips of movies dating from the 1930s to the 1970s.

For a 12-year-old, Doorways to Adventures was undeniably fun, but I faced one problem: I was an only child, which meant I didn't have brothers or sisters that I could ask/compel to play with me. Also, my parents weren't the gaming types; they much preferred watching TV or hanging out with their friends when they chose to do so. With this in mind, I didn't have a ready pool of opponents against which I could play. I did have my friend Brian, who was game to play a few times; but, beyond him, the landscape of prospective competitors was barren and lifeless. Thus, the game was largely unplayed and remained in my closet for several years until it was packed up with my other board games and put into storage at my grandma's house.

A few years ago, I rediscovered the game in my grandma's rafters and showed it to my sons and wife. My sons were intrigued, so I relearned the game and played it with them. At first, my sons were confused by the rules, but they caught on quickly and were outbidding each other (and me) by the time we passed through the first few doorways. They began to grasp the concept that, for example, getting a bunch of Precious Metals was more profitable than focusing on Art Objects in the long run. They also enjoyed stealing the Key from each other and stealing treasure from each other whenever one spotted water or fire in a movie clip (note: there are "Steal Treasure with Water" and "Steal Treasure with Fire" cards that allow you to take an opponent's treasure if water or fire are present in the movie clip). We eventually roped my wife into playing a game with us, which can last two hours. Despite the length, when we all have the time to play, we are consistently amused and bemused in equal measure as treasures are gained and lost with alarming regularity.

Doorways to Adventure is an integral part of my family's game rotation, though the game length can be incredibly protracted if bidding and stealing become fierce. This is so much so that whenever one of us suggests that game for Family Night, the other three of us will cringe, look at the clock, and say, "That game takes TOO long." Nonetheless, Doorways to Adventure is one of those games, along with some of my NES games, that is seeing new life now because, unlike the time of my youth, I have a pool of people with whom I can play. Whenever I have the time and mental space to play Doorways to Adventure, I feel like the 12-year-old inside of me gets to do what he never got to do in 1986: play his games with other people. Considering that, I implore you, the reader, to hold onto, or find, your old games because someday you may have a new generation of opponents with whom to play right under your own roof.

Madden 2004: 1HN Cheesy Skill Levels

Here is a link to an article I wrote a few years ago about Madden 2004 on the PC:

A Treatise on Madden, Madness, and Cheesy Skill Levels

In short, though Madden 2004 is manageable at the Rookie level and a lot of fun, it becomes inordinately hard the higher you set the difficulty: you can't throw across the middle or run anywhere but UP the middle, and linebackers suddenly develop awesome hands for interceptions. This game was a far cry from the fare to which I was accustomed from my Genesis days. That said, Madden 2004 had much to offer and is playable on Windows XP or Windows Vista without a hitch.

Anyway, if you can get it cheap, I'd recommend it, but for nothing more than $5 or so.