What to Do If... You Want to Buy Yet Another Board Game

Imagine the scene: it is a gorgeous Saturday afternoon and three of your board game buddies visit you at your house. Your wife and kids are at a relative's house, so you have the house completely open. After the cursory hellos and opening refreshments, everyone meanders somewhat swiftly to your dining room table to play a somewhat complicated, but richly-thematic, board game. After a 15-minute explanation by the owner, you and your friends engage in what turns out to be a very enthralling round of gaming. Excited by the discovery (though mindful of your usual, well-known pattern of purchasing every board game you remotely enjoy), you remember the game, about which you cannot stop talking with your friends. The day ends on a high note as your buddies conclude a session with another intriguing, but somewhat less absorbing, board game.

Shortly after the last friend leaves, your family returns home. Without hesitation, you share your gaming experience with your wife, who rolls her eyes as if to say, "You want ANOTHER board game?"

...To which you quietly nod, as if communicating telepathically, "Yes!"

Whether you are a man or woman, you have probably experienced a similar exchange with your spouse; such is the life of an enthusiast of any hobby -- in this case, an enthusiast of board games. Yet, another scenario often plays out: you acquire the wonderful game only to attempt to teach your family or another group of friends and encounter a markedly non-positive response. They just do not like it. Now, you are stuck with a game that nobody else enjoys in your immediate social circle and your only chance of ever playing it again would be if you reconvened the original group, which (for whatever reason) is a very occasional occurrence. To augment your nascent depression, your spouse often (but lovingly) reminds you of how your hobby has once again led you to possess another fancy paperweight/shelf decoration/space-taking white elephant. 

...This may also sound familiar.

If it is not obvious, I have purchased games my family does not like more than once. This experience motivates me to spare you that same fate. I shall share some questions I ask myself whenever I am exposed to a game that I am tempted to buy. I must admit that thought I often refrain from making a frivolous acquisition, I do succumb to the occasional purchase.

What is appealing about this game?

Whether it is because of theme, mechanics, popularity, or even the fun time you had playing this game with your gamer friends, it is extremely helpful to identify, isolate, and analyze the reasons why the game appeals to you. These reasons help in answering the questions after this one.

What games do I already have that are similar to this one?

Compare the game you want to buy with the ones you have in your collection. If you have games of a similar theme, figure out what differentiates this potential purchase from the games you own. If you have games with similar mechanics, determine if the other factors differentiate the potential purchase enough to justify buying it. I have ruled out a few games because they were almost the same as games I already had. You also have to resist the "cult of the new" temptation of buying something simply because it is novel; new becomes old really fast, so a game should have more to it than just being new.

How often will I play this game?

For those folks that are relative rookies in the board gaming hobby, you will most likely play your modest inventory of games often. However, for those who have been in the hobby for more than a few years, every new purchase may take time away from your other games. This is affected by other factors: the expected time-per-player number, the complexity of the game, the amount of players the game accommodates, and the whether a game involves turn-based or simultaneous play represent aspects of games that can affect how often a game is played. If you have a bevy of 3-4-player games and the new one is in that player count, the new game may compete with the others for time. If the new game is a short one (say, 30-60 minutes maximum), it may slot into a gaming night agenda with other games. Cogitate seriously about how often you can play the new game, especially in light of the next question...

Will this game take away from time spent on the other games I own?

The tragic irony of any hobby is that the more you buy new things, the less you use the older things, and board games are no different. This is evident a few years after you become an enthusiast; you start out buying gateway games like Ticket to Ride or Pandemic, but as you acquire more games, you find that you are playing those gateway games much less. Eventually, the games you purchased 10 years ago only come out when you happen to invite casual players to your gaming parties or lunchtime gatherings.

Another situation you may encounter is when you play a beloved game less and less because of the other games; you would love to set up that beloved game, but you find yourself drawn to the more recently-bought ones. When you consider that new game, think about how often those old games will get played and if you even care. If you care, you may want to ponder how much you want the new game.

What games would I offload to make room for this one? Whether you have a vibrant local community of gamers to whom you can offer and sell your old games, you are an avid eBay user who markets your games, or an extremely generous friend who offloads games onto unsuspecting friends and family members, ridding yourself of old games creates space in your inventory, which may facilitate that new purchase. Opening up slots in your gaming shelf also addresses the previous questions; by eliminating certain games, you create more time play the new game while possibly erasing games with similar themes or mechanics from your collection. If you are not a seller or giver, though, the next question is crucial...

Would my family or friends really play this game?

Let us imagine that you have gotten this far in reflecting on why to buy that intriguingly novel game. Even though you have games that are strikingly similar to this new one, and you are perfectly fine with apportioning time to your other games while accommodating this game in your group's playing schedule, you have to ask yourself the most essential question of if your family and/or friends will play this game at all. Some may argue that even playing ONE time is justification enough; think about how four matinee tickets to a movie can set you back $28, which can also be the price of a game on sale and you will understand that point. Others may argue that they have multiple gaming groups and the new game will address one or more of those groups; if so, then buy it without any reservations.

Yet, I really recommend asking yourself honestly if your primary group is going to play the game. My primary group is my family; sadly, as the years have gone by and my sons have become teenagers who are NOT that interested in board games, there is much less enthusiasm to play games in my house. I have had to accept the harsh reality that unless I find a consistent gaming group, I would be hard-pressed to condone acquiring new games. If you are facing that reality, or an analogous one that may involve the dissolution of your gaming group or the common life changes that draw your gaming buddies away from the table (e.g. marriage, new baby, new job, and so on), then buying games may not be reasonable.

For game collectors: some people love to acquire new games just to put on their shelves and enjoy the mere fact of owning them. To those folks, I thank you for supporting the hobby. This article largely does not apply to you, particularly if you have the spare income to engage in collecting board games. Keep in mind, of course, that few games appreciate in value as collector items. Sure, if you own the first edition of the Dune board game in Near-Mint condition or some other limited edition, then you could most likely turn a nice profit compared to the original purchase price.

Outside of those exceptions, board games are generally not collectibles that rise or fall in the secondary market (in my experience) like baseball cards or comic books. Despite that, if you like buying beautiful games that instill that pride of ownership (and you are buying comfortably within your family's budget), then feel free to exercise your rights as a consumer.

***

I consider the thought process of whether or not to purchase a game as an algorithm that can either spare you from needlessly spending thousands of dollars or (in a few cases) complicate the buying process enough to dissuade you from buying anything. Nowadays, as a 10-year veteran of the hobby, I walk into board game stores and either buy expansions, card sleeves, or nothing at all because I really want to play the games I already own. Whenever I am tempted to buy, I run the algorithm through my mind. Ultimately, I do enjoy buying board games, which is a tendency that is turning me more into a collector than a player, which is somewhat tragic. It is like buying nice tools just to mount on a garage wall, or buying a sports car just to wipe it occasionally with a cheese cloth and gawk at it; indeed, having it is pleasurable, but I am not allowing the item to serve its purpose. That leads into grander questions about art and decoration; why have such things in your house if all they do is sit there? To that, I say this: isn't life better when your home environment is just a little prettier? If you elevate (or reduce?) board games to art or decoration, then no amount of questions can really stop someone from buying that odd board game once in a while.

Are There Board Games to Suit All (or Most) Moods and Occasions?

Over the last 25 years, the board game hobby has seen revolutionary change. Before the mid-1990s, board games could have been categorized in two basic groups. On one hand, there were casual-player games like Monopoly, Risk, Clue, Scrabble, and Trouble, which were available in toy stores and big-box stores everywhere; they were ubiquitous and well-known, but not always highly regarded. Conversely, there were decidedly esoteric games that involved complicated rules and many chits. These included railroading games and war simulation games. Rare were the games that straddled both camps; games such as Axis & Allies and Fortress America were two examples of games that involved complex rules, but still somehow inserted themselves into the public consciousness. (Note that I'm not including role-playing games or collectible card games in this discussion.) Then, in 1995, a curious game called Settlers of Catan was published, followed by El Grande (1996), Tikal (1999), Carcassonne (2001), and Ticket to Ride (2004), along with a plethora of intriguing titles. These games ushered in a new era of games that populated a middle ground between casual board games and esoteric board games, combining relative complexity with accessibility and aesthetic craftsmanship. They could be somewhat easy to learn by casual players, intricate enough to engage old-school esoteric gamers, and be downright beautiful on the table. Nowadays, the games on the market exist as a testament and response to the increasingly-demanding standards of consumers that expect artistry, well-written and test rules, and theme.

Despite the revolutionary transformation of the board game hobby, there is one question that is as prevalent as ever: are there board games that are suitable for all people and all occasions? Obviously, the answer is a resounding "No," so the question we should ask is, "Are there any games that come close?" To that query, the answer is a resounding "Maybe." Before you form your own mental list of games to suit most occasions, let me share with you some questions that I ask myself when I prepare to host or attend any gathering, whether it's a board game day, a birthday party, or just an extended family gathering.

Before I continue, one useful metric (or better or worse) to which I refer that is available for each game on boardgamegeek.com is the Weight of the game. Users rate games on a score of 1 (Light) to 5 (Heavy). Though I'm not a fan of quantitative scores for qualitative information, this metric is good enough for you to compare games. It has also been very handy for informing my game-buying decisions when thinking about my family. Note, however, that the ratings were entered by hobby gamers; what they think is "Light" might be a little heavy for the non-gamer. As a rule of thumb, I consider games between 1 and 1.5 as "a little challenging for non-gamers, but not too bad," between 1.5 and 2 as "requiring some hand-holding and more explanation," and between 2 and 2.5 as "requiring the patience and guidance of an expert if this person has any chance of gleaning any fun from the session." Oh, and for games at 3 or higher... well, I'd stay away from those until your would-be gamer has had a few sessions with the "gateway games."

Who is invited to the game session?
The most crucial question you can address is the composition of your invitee list. Do you have board game enthusiasts, non-gamers, or people who fall somewhere in between those two groups? Did you invite people who actually do not like games? Depending on who is attending, you have to assess your game collection and determine which games match your invitees. For casual gamers, skew towards 2 or under. For your enthusiasts, aim for at least a high 2 (2.8, for instance).

What's the occasion?
Barring the possibility that your event is a dedicated board game session, your invitees will not be mentally prepared to break up into separate groups and game tables. I have found that people mostly want the freedom to intermingle and talk to many different people. For the gamer host, this can be frustrating, but you have to think about the people; usually, when people hear "Party," they think of everyone interacting with each other, not tables in different rooms for focused gaming. Thus, games that involve (almost) everyone are more readily accepted.

Beyond that, consider the purpose of the session. Is it a birthday party? Maybe choose party games like Codenames (1.3), Taboo (1.22 -- yes, I said Taboo), or Pictionary (1.24). Is it a family gathering of aunts and uncles? Once again, party games or games that involve more than eight people are effective in engaging the entire group. Are two families with four or fewer members (each) present? Then, consider a game like Seven Wonders (Weight: 2.3) that involves simultaneous play or team games like Secrets (Weight: 1.27).

Do any of your invitees NOT like games?
This is a tough one because one unenthusiastic person can stymy any attempt at a game. At best, that one person will wander in and out of the room as they bounce between the refreshments table and your game table; at worst, he or she will distract the table with side comments and scuttle the session. In either case, the person is neither trying to be awful nor trying to sabotage the game; for whatever reason, he or she just doesn't like games. Maybe it's because of a childhood memory, or maybe it's because they're not competitive. Whatever the case, this person has yet to have a favorable experience with games.

With individuals like this, there may be NO game that suits them, but that shouldn't stop you from organizing a game. Give advance notice to your invitees that you will organize a game; then, take the non-gamer aside and ask him or her to participate. If your attendee declines, then offer the freedom of observing. For your reluctant gamer type, skew towards simpler games at a Weight of 2 or less. Among the best at that Weight for large groups include Codenames, Dixit (1.2 -- especially the Odyssey edition), and One Night Ultimate Werewolf (1.4). A lesser-known game with a traitor element is Saboteur (1.33).

How much time do I have?
If your gathering is not a dedicated gaming session, then only a portion of your scheduled time will be committed to board games. With this in mind, aim for shorter games. Another data point that you find on boardgamegeek.com is Playing Time, which assists you in determining a suitable game for your gathering. However, I recommend adding 50% more time to that; for instance, a game with a Playing Time of 30 minutes may actually take 45 minutes because of setup and instruction. Generally, select a game that fits well under your projected play time.

***

Thanks to Board Game Geek's website, you can answer the question of "Are there any games that come close to suiting all occasions?" based on Playing Time and Weight with a fair degree of confidence. In my experience, I have found that a confluence of medium Playing Time length (1-2 hours) and a Weight between 1 and 2.5 often ensures that the games you choose will target most audiences. Simpler gateway games like Codenames and Dixit have been easy to teach and fun for gamers; slightly more complex "Next Step" games like 7 Wonders have required a bit more teaching and guidance, but have won over people and turned casuals into nascent gamers. Will such games enthrall esoteric gamers? Well, games that fall in this confluence of data points should entertain them enough outside of a dedicated board game night, but they may become withdrawn and slightly resistant if your game night consisted of games with a Weight of less than, say, 2.3, though I would concede that this is not a rule.  It is indeed amazing how Board Game Geek data points can help in selecting games...

Yet, if you would prefer to trust your own knowledge and intuition, just imagine the perspective of each of your would-be participants. In the past, I have often relied on hunches in selecting games. I have made mistakes, but those mistakes were borne more out of my inability to understand the other person's perspective than out of a lack of effort or information. In other words, you truly have to put yourself in that person's position. Imagine being a non-gamer and what that feels like. It's easy: simply think about a hobby you don't like and then extrapolate from there. If you succeed, you'll understand how boring, unexciting, or daunting board games can be to such a person. After all, these are feelings and thoughts I have when I think about, say, building sheds or scrapbooking (which are NOT bad hobbies at all; they're just not my hobbies). Once you can conceptualize those feelings, you discover that you can choose games that are not-so-painful for the non-gamer.

Madden 93: 1HN Hammer Redemption

Last night, I pulled off what I had never thought I would actually do, despite the numerous opportunities that were granted me in the past: I bought the Sega Genesis game cartridge for John Madden Football 93 (or Madden 93). Several months ago, I had spotted it in a local retrogame store; believe it or not, there is a store dedicated to retro video game cartridges in my town! Feeling a bit down about my prospects of an X-Wing Miniatures Game match being shattered as my sparring partner comforted his distraught friend, I ventured to that store and, for seven measly American dollars, I acquired that once long-lost gem for myself. To be honest, though, it wasn't really "long-lost," as much as it was destroyed in a fit of anger. I shall elucidate...

During my second year of college, I purchased a Sega Genesis Model One from KB Toys in Los Angeles. At the time, the Model One Genesis was on sale for $129 or something like that, and I knew that this was a great deal. I had wanted a Genesis for some time, having been the owner of a Nintendo Entertainment System which had been long outmoded by then. Throughout my high school years, my friends Ed and Tim owned a Genesis. We used to spend evenings playing various games, especially Madden 92 (I wrote a post about that). After acquiring that magical piece of 16-bit hardware, I meandered home and plugged it into my old CRT television with the provided RF adapter. I inserted my first game cartridge, Sonic the Hedgehog, and fired up the console. Sure enough, the Genesis was as fun as it was during my high school days.

I don't remember exactly when I acquired Madden 93, but I know that by 1994 (when I acquired the Genesis), it was an older game. Nonetheless, I bought it and played it numerous times with Ed, who was one of my roommates at UCLA. One of my all-time favorite video game memories was playing alongside Ed as the 1985 Chicago Bears. We may a simple rule for ourselves to enhance the challenge of playing against the computer: we could NOT score on offensive plays. We could score after an interception, a fumble, a punt, a kickoff, or as a result of a safety; otherwise, we had to punt the ball. We experienced some hilarious scenarios. One scenario was after we would intercept the ball, run it to the opposition's 4-yard-line, and then get tackled; because we couldn't score on offense, we had to punt, so we had to angle our punt to the sidelines AND kick with as little power as possible to move the ball to the 1-yard-line! Another funny scenario was trying to rush the quarterback at the same time only to have both of our sprites dive past the fortunate quarterback. We used to shift the defensive line off to one side and rush from other other side. We also got really good at batting down passes... I don't know if we could win in a modern football game in this way, but I can say with certainty that doing so wouldn't be as delightful as it was with Madden 93 on the Sega Genesis.

Anyway, as my second year of college came to a close, I moved out of the apartment I shared with Ed and moved into a studio apartment with Chris. To summarize very briefly, Chris and I were like oil and water; we didn't mesh very well. In retrospect, I recognize that he was a very nice guy and was more selfless than a lot of college students, but our senses of humor were very different to the point where his sarcasm offended me to the core. Because he was my roommate, he would sometimes challenge me in a sports game on the Genesis; usually it was NHL 95 or Madden 93, which I was still playing despite my owning Madden 94 (in my opinion, the game quality got worse between Madden 93 and Madden 94). During those games, Chris was highly proficient at mind games. For instance, if he were losing, he would say, "Oh, I had to scratch my arm, so I messed up that play," as if my winning were accidental; conversely, if he were winning, he would tout his video game greatness. It used to wear on me like the proverbial nails on a chalkboard. One day, Ed visited me and made an off-hand comment about Chris. For reasons I still do not fully understand, I was enraged at being reminded of Chris, so I proceeded to smash my beloved Madden 93 cartridge with a hammer and threw the entire package down the garbage chute.

Thus, I destroyed the cartridge. That was 24 years ago.

For years, I regretted my rash actions. It was very counterproductive for me to annihilate my own property, but to do so with a game I thoroughly enjoyed was an especially poignant regret. Up until the end of my college days, I had a problem with anger that occasionally drove me to destroy things. Even as a born-again Christian now, I am still plagued with this rage, but I do not wreck things as I used to do. It is a tendency that I endeavor to eliminate in my character.

Fast-forward to last night. After I purchased Madden 93 for the second time, I feel as if I have corrected a past mistake. I know that God is not concerned with wrecked cartridges or video games, but I would like to think that He chose to bless me with it again. I vow to care for this cartridge and enjoy it again with Ed, as well as my sons.

By the way, regarding the game itself, it is one of the easiest football games to learn in the world of video games, especially compared to Madden games on the XBox or PlayStation. With three buttons and a directional pad, Madden 93 on the Sega Genesis is fun, fast, and readily accessible. Also, you receive the benefit of learning about American football. Of course, you would have to accept that in 1993 there were no two-point-conversions, Texans, Ravens, or Titans. Set those differences aside and you're in for a night full of entertainment.

To quote John Madden: BOOM! He'll remember that number!

Ten Years and Counting!

Hello, everyone! This is a quick post to recognize that today is the 10-year anniversary of the RetroBeliever blog! I was perusing my old posts and went as far back as the first one, which is here:

https://retrobeliever.blogspot.com/2010/01/welcome-to-retrobeliever.html

Since that first post, the blog has changed quite a bit. Initially, I focused on retro videogames from a Christian perspective, but I have since extended my reach into board games and popular U.S. culture. More often than not, my posts have tended towards a nostalgic perspective because what I write generally comes from looking backwards. Over the last few years, I have gravitated a lot more towards board games and rules, so I'm intrigued by the possibilities of what I may post in the future.

As of this date, my focus has been on loss, death, and being lost. Many of my thoughts have dwelled on those subjects because of recent events and what seems to be a mid-life crisis I am experiencing. I am at a point where I am fairly convinced I have already lived more than half of my life on this earth. It has caused me to cling to God desperately, and yet I feel sadness at how meaningless many of my pursuits will be when I have left this earth. In heaven, board games, video games, movies, TV shows, and even the fond remembrances of the past won't necessarily matter. What will matter, though, are the connections I made with people through those interests and events and whether or not I impacted them in the name of Jesus. Everything else is ephemeral.

I look at my 16- and 14-year-old sons and ponder the future ahead of them. There is some much for them to experience. If I were to die today, I would want them to know that I love them dearly and want the best for them on this earth, as well as for them to be in the presence of God in eternity. I pray that they can live their lives while making wise decisions and avoiding egregious mistakes and sins. I know that many of us learn through tragedy and error, but, as a father, I would prefer that they would not have to face many of those situations.

I am thankful for my wife, though I am not worthy of her. She is spiritually stronger than me and more inclined to read her Bible daily and pray. She leads her women's group with compassion and fairness. She yearns for the best for our sons to the point of physical pain. There is a part of me that would have wanted a better husband for her, but God had a plan when He put me in her path. She has made me better, yet I am woefully inadequate.

Lastly, with loving respect of my mom, I want to mention my dad, who passed away over three years ago. On the day before he died, I prayed with my dad and he indicated with nods that he gave his life to the Lord. If, in the entirety of my life, I could lead one person to Christ, it would have been my dad. Of course, I pray the same for my mom, but my dad seemed much further from God. When he died, I was stricken with grief, yet I was filled with hope that I will meet him again.

Thank you for reading my blog posts. You may have read one, or you may have read many, but I am grateful, nonetheless. I write these posts for an audience of one hoping that others happen upon them. May your gaming be fun and eternally purposeful!

Kobe Bryant: 1HN Clipper Nemesis

During my college days in the 1990s, I was a Los Angeles Clippers fan. No, this was before Blake Griffin, Chris Paul, and Lob City. No, this was even before Elton Brand, Corey Maggette, Sam Cassell, Cutino Mobley, and divisional playoff exits against the Phoenix Suns. Yes, it was the lean years of Loy Vaught, Rodney Rogers, Brent Barry, and lots of losing. They were a team that barely got on Channel 13 in Los Angeles with Ralph Waller doing his level best to provide expert play-by-play announcing and a semi-apathetic Bill Walton commentating. The Clippers were still owned by a penny-pinching owner and played in a desperately outdated L.A. Sports Arena. The mid-90s were not the salad days for this team.

Meanwhile, across town, the Lakers were also a middling team. I enjoyed that team with Cedric Ceballos scoring off garbage rebounds, Elden Campbell showing frustrating flashes of brilliance with long stretches of mediocrity, and a vibrant, young duo of Nick Van Exel and Eddie Jones playing consistently well. Then, in 1996, the Lakers acquired a high school phenomenon named Kobe Bryant in a post-draft day trade with the then-Charlotte Hornets for center Vlade Divac. Oh, and then they acquired Shaquille O'Neal... These were DEFINITELY not the salad days for the Clippers.

During my last year at UCLA, Kobe came off the bench and showed his own flashes of brilliance. I must have watched several Lakers games on NBC with my roommates during that year, and played as him in NBA Live 97. Recently, I played that game again, and discovered (again) that Kobe's attributes were not good enough for him to pull off crossovers. Indeed, his attributes in that weren't what they would end up being in future iterations of the classic EA Sports game, but they were certainly better than a lot of benchwarmers. In real life, sure, he had the Utah airballs and the Lakers crashed out of the playoffs, but he had that astounding combination of youth, athleticism, skill even at a young age, and audacity that indicated he would be something special in basketball.

In 1997, I left for Japan. In 1998, I returned, only to leave again in 1999. During my five continuous years in Japan, I followed the NBA and the exploits of the Lakers. I was able to watch the first game of the Finals against the Sixers, during which Allen Iverson and friends defeated the Shaq-and-Kobe Lakers only to lose the next four games. The Lakers would go on to win three championships in a row. I returned to the U.S. for the last time in 2004... and rooted for the superstar-less Pistons to beat the Lakers, which they did after Karl Malone went down with an injury. From 1996 to 2016, Kobe Bryant was ever-present for me as a Clippers basketball fan. I have to admit that I wasn't a rabid fan of Kobe Bryant, but he was difficult to avoid in Southern California. I would hear all about his exploits on drive-time AM radio as I inched my way home in the midst of traffic, and I'm rather convinced that he played particularly hard against the Clippers, who continued to be the also-rans of Los Angeles, even into the early days of the aforementioned Chris Paul and Blake Griffin. Three years ago, Kobe would end up retiring, but not before scoring 60 points in his last game as a professional basketball player. From the five NBA championships to the two gold medals (and eventually even an Oscar), Kobe served as one of the premier players of basketball, both globally and in the United States. He was also trilingual (English, Italian, and Spanish), which earned my linguistic respect. In any case, I didn't know Kobe Bryant personally, but whenever I chose to reinsert myself with basketball fandom, he seemed to be there.

Yesterday, as I left a movie theater with my family, my oldest son told me that Kobe Bryant had died. I found this news so incredible that I had to check the Internet myself. He, his daughter, and seven others died in a horrific helicopter crash earlier that day. I was shocked not only because nine people died in a tragic fashion, but also because a part of my past had passed away. After the previous seven days during which my family and I mourned the passing of three far-too-young men because of a senseless act of road rage, the deaths of nine souls caused me to revisit that sadness. Kobe Bryant wasn't any more or less important than the other eight people who lost their lives, but he has been etched in my memory as one of those sports figures that was a constant from my college days to my child-rearing adult days.

I lift up the families of the people who lost their lives in that helicopter crash. I pray that these families find comfort and solace in God.

When Board Games Don't Matter

Last Sunday, six young men piled into a silver Toyota and drove to a house on a dare. Apparently, the dare involved ringing someone's doorbell and then running away just before the door was opened. One of the young men ran to the front door, rang the doorbell, and bolted to the waiting getaway car. A middle-aged man answered the door and spied the Toyota escape down his street. Extremely enraged, the squat man rushed to his own while sedan, started it, and sped in pursuit of the young men. As the older man caught up to the silver car, he bumped it at high speed. From what has been reported, he bumped it more than once. After a particularly forceful impact, the young driver of the silver car suffered a concussion and blacked out.

The silver car careened off the road and collided with a tree.

The angry driver fled the scene.

Of the six teens, three of them passed away. Two of the survivors were brothers of the deceased. The driver also survived. My family and I knew all three of the deceased young men. We know two of the survivors. We even spotted them at church earlier that day.

When I reflect on this tragedy, I ponder how I did not do my part in youth ministry to impact these guys. This is not to say that any past interventions would have prevented this horrific outcome, but I think about how every young person deserves our attention. Every youngster needs the love and wisdom of adults to guide them. I find my mind and memory drifting to past moments during which I was in close proximity to them. I dwell on how I could have interacted with them, how I could have been more intentional with my conversations with them, and how I could have looked past whatever was happening to show them that Jesus loves them.

Then I think about my sons and how these boys were sons to fathers that loved them. I know I cannot fully understand what those fathers are feeling today; when I imagine it, the searing pain of loss is palpable, but probably doesn't approach the anguish of these men. Yet, I can comprehend enough to view my sons in a different light. I am thankful that my sons are still with me, but I have guilt about being thankful when those three fathers do not have that option.

I know that these boys are in the presence of God right now, and I know that God is present in tragedy. He has brought a church together in mourning, He has brought justice upon the perpetrator, and He has reached the hearts of many of the youths in the community. Yet, we all mourn. In a way that is essential for any human being, we should be devastated emotionally for we will not see these young men again in this lifetime. We will not see their smiling faces except in videos and photos...

But I know we'll see them again in a place where the sins of humanity are stripped away. There will be joy on that day.

Board games don't matter today. More than ever, what matters is God and people. What matters is that we hold on to our loved ones and those that need God's love with both hands for as long as we can because our time with each other here on this earth is excruciatingly short. The good news is that eternity is long. Treasure your loved ones now and prepare them for what is to come after this very brief sojourn through this life.

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28).

The Expectant Look of the Lost

Every board gamer aims to conduct, or at least participate in, that ideal and miraculous board game gathering during which every person is thoroughly engaged and focused. At such an event, there are simultaneous games being played at various tables with each table run by an expert who can explain the rules and guide the proceedings. Those same tables are populated with players who are well-versed in the conventions of gameplay; they know the difference between deck-building and action-selection, the probability of rolling one result over another, and the merits of card sleeves and customized box inserts. No one is waiting for the action to come to them; each player is reading the rules, enacting strategy, and generally playing without the expectation of help or hand-holding. This is the best any board gamer could ever want.

Of course, this kind of gathering can be dishearteningly rare. More often than not, the resident board game enthusiast of a social group is THE authority on games, so he is called upon to pick the right game, teach a disparate group of learners about the game, know every rule, explain every tactic and strategy, and ensure that everyone is engaged and enjoying the experience. When this social group convenes for the odd board game night, most of them stare at the gamer, expecting him to conjure up fun as a magician would conjure up a rabbit from a silk top hat….

Stop RIGHT there…

That’s the look that I want to focus on in this article. It’s that glare… that look of waiting for one to do something. Physically, the head cranes forward slightly, the eyebrows are unfurrowed, and the lips are slightly pursed as if the person is trying to communicate escalating boredom through their eyes only. It’s a look charged with pressure, cautious anticipation, slight disapproval at the concept of playing a “board game…” It’s the same look that most people make when they attend a party but the host has been derelict in his duties and has, instead, opted to play X-Box in the guest bedroom while everyone else fends for themselves. It’s a look…

It’s a look that drives me crazy… but it’s the kind of look you’re going to have to handle.

See… most people don’t play board games with the interest or intensity that you do. Most people have jobs, make house payments, watch TV, spend time with their kids, spend time on their phones, and spend time yelling at their kids who spend time on their phones. If anyone is enthusiastic about something, it’s a myriad of other things besides board games, so when these people go to your house, they expect you to entertain them with your hobby.

You’re not alone, though. Every hobby’s enthusiasts have to endure this.

Yet, you’re going to have to accept it. For the longest time, I had (and still have) trouble with that expectant kind of demeanor. As you can tell in the title of this article, I have come to label that look as the “expectant look of the lost” (or ELL) because that’s what your non-board-gamer friends are:

LOST

This is the crux of my article. When I think about ELL, I consider how it is no use becoming bitter or upset when your non-gamer friends have no clue about how to participate in a board game party. It’s also no use expecting them to meet the high standards you secretly harbor about the aforementioned parties. Obviously, I state these points because I struggle with them, too, and my hope is to encapsulate the frustrations you might feel as a board game enthusiast.

Now, normally, I would frame this article as a “What to Do If…” article and list ways to cope with the issue, but I do not want to rely on that formula for this article. Frankly, I don’t necessarily have solutions for ELL because, well, it speaks into the inherent impatience of people (maybe just Americans?). People demonstrate this look for numerous reasons because, even though they are among friends and are generally safe from danger, they have little understanding or control over the proceedings but do not want to look overtly impatient. In my opinion, handling this can be reduced to the type of person you are.

If you are an introvert like me who fancies himself to be a person who is sensitive to other people’s feelings, you may see fit to read the room and decide NOT to play games; it’s the “high road,” but it causes the evening to be less fun for you. If you’re a lively extrovert, you may just enforce your will and drag people into game time; this may affect people somewhat negatively and sour them to gaming. If you a staunch planner type, you may want to plan ahead, assign key people to lead game tables, and organize people by table; some people do not like being treated like high school students, though. If you’re spontaneous, you may have to learn to overlook people’s quizzical looks and just play. I know that there are several viable approaches to this issue, but each one depends on you and who is in the room with you.

This leads me to something that I have not adequately addressed: why I am writing this article in the first place. Indeed, commiseration and catharsis are two motivators; ELL has been a thorn in my side for a long time, and I hope that others can relate. Moreover, the classic raison-d’etre of “writing a blog entry as a personal reflection” prevails. Setting these reasons aside, I know I am writing this article because of a core disillusionment I sense in myself about board games: essentially, they (or any other hobby) do not fill the God-shaped hole in all of us, and they certainly do no fill that hole in others.

This further leads me to a revelation: like almost every hobby, board gaming is a momentary distraction that ultimately leads to dissatisfaction and the desperate acquisition of more games to stave off the oncoming dissatisfaction. In this way, ELL is not the other person’s problem; it’s OUR problem. People are looking to us to entertain them; in a bizarre twist, we are looking to board games to entertain US. If we think about it long and hard enough, we find that everyone will be left wanting eventually. We are all LOST.

I realize that board games are fun, but I also know that I have to put them in their correct place. They are social lubricants, distractions, baubles, discussion topics, and ways to connect with others. They do NOT take away our boredom or impatience. They do NOT make our everyday lives more exciting and intriguing. In other words, board games are not that important. Once we come to grips with that, I wager that we find it easier to cope with the expectant look of the lost. We may never have that perfect board game party, but we can certainly form thrilling connections with others and forge lifelong friendships.

With that said, it doesn’t hurt to have a few gamer friends help you organize and run a board game party. With their assistance, a board game day with casual players can be supercharged and fun.