What to Do If... You Don't Want to Play Gateway Games (But You're Playing with Casuals)

As a board game enthusiast, it can be challenging to play with people who aren't enthusiasts. Such folks are often called "casual players" or just "casuals." It's a term that is somewhat pervasive in American vernacular when discussing people who only engage in an activity occasionally. This is especially the case with board games because most people do not pursue this hobby with the kind of passion to drive them to play regularly. However, for the board game enthusiast, herein lies the rub: more often than not, you get a hankering to play a board game (particularly a somewhat complicated one), but the only people that are readily available are casuals, whether they're co-workers, friends, or family members, so you assume the challenge of teaching casuals how to play a reasonably difficult game. Of course, many of us know how this ends: lots of blank expressions, yawns, head scratches, and a general desire for the casuals to extricate themselves from this train-wreck game session as expeditiously as possible.

This scenario is not uncommon, and it is one I've encountered several times, but what undergirds these situations is that apparent gap of interest and understanding between the enthusiast and the casual. Thankfully, unlike with sports in which differences in ability can result in lopsided victories and un-fun to be had by all parties, board games exist at varying levels of complexity. Among board gamers, games that are somewhat strategically rich and a cut above Monopoly are called "gateway games" with simple rules, short setup, and a sense of agency that differs greatly from the likes of Candy Land and Chutes and Ladders, to be sure. Games like Ticket to Ride, Carcassonne, Pandemic, and Settlers of Catan inhabit this ideological space of gaming. Now, don't get me wrong; these games are fun and a credit to the hobby, but there are times when the board game enthusiast wants more out of the gaming session than these games, which leads me to the crux of this article.

Here are some approaches you might try if you have a group of casual players, but do not want to play gateway games:

Research and Buy a New Game
If you navigate to Board Game Geek, you can view lists of how enthusiasts rate games. One list that is relevant to the kinds of games that casuals may enjoy is the Family Games list. On that list, you will find the classic gateway games, as well as some of the newer titles. My advice with this list is to find 3-5 games that catch your fancy and read reviews about them. They may be games that are less complex than what you truly desire, but you may find some gems that both are new to you and satisfy your urge for something more than gateway games.

Besides Board Game Geek, I recommend visiting Target, Barnes & Noble (if you're in the United States), or even the local board game specialty store. At Target, browse the "Strategy Games" section; at Barnes & Noble, browse the titles and find one that is thematically and mechanically appealing; and, at your local game store, ask the counter person (or owner) about their recommendations.

If you do NOT want to buy a new game...

Make Your Shortlist
In your existing collection, rule out the gateway offerings that you may have, but also think about your experiences with each game and consider your personal assessment of their levels of difficulty. Then, cull down all of the initial candidate games to a list of five to seven games that you would really like to play.

Look at Time and Player Count
Then, without much thought, examine your list while looking at only two criteria: time to play (which is sometimes calculated as a minutes-to-player ratio) and player count. Player count is important because you have to accommodate your entire group of casual-player friends, but expected time of play for each player is not necessarily crucial as a determinant for the length of your game session as much as an indirect indication of complexity; basically, the longer the game, the more complex it might be. This isn't a foolproof method of checking complexity, but this metric does give you some idea.

Determine the Game's Complexity
The beauty of gateway games is that though they are strategically rich, they are not painfully complicated. Many of these games have simple rulesets. For example, Carcassonne's turn order is easy to grasp: draw a tile, place one of your tile's edges against a compatible edge, and then choose whether or not to place an available worker on a feature of that tile. Once you understand the scoring of each feature, especially end-game farmer scoring, the mechanics of the game aren't daunting. Of course, the richness of Carcassonne lies in the discoveries players make as they gain experience. I suggest aiming for games that harness this beauty; at the very least, choose games that have a repeatable turn order and provide a reference card or sheet to help players along the way.

Consider The Number of Interwoven Mechanics
Working from the assumption that you are a board game aficionado, you are most likely aware of the mechanics of each game that you own. Is a game a deck-builder? Is it a worker-placement game? Does it involve set collection? Are there push-your-luck elements? Inherently, each identifiable game mechanic is no more intricate than any other mechanic, but some are more pervasive among casuals; for instance, set collection is a common mechanic found in many basic card games. However, I often keep in mind how many mechanics function inter-connectedly. Take Lewis & Clark; this game involves hand management and hand-building, worker placement, resource management, and even a racing element. With all of these mechanics in motion, even experienced board gamers have some initial problems with understanding the flow. Try to choose games that minimize the number of mechanics that prevail. For help with this, look up any particular game on Board Game Geek to discover how many mechanic categories are ascribed to that game.

Check Out the Components
A simple rule of thumb I use is the fewer the number of types of components involved in a game, the less complicated it probably is. For example, a game that has tokens, ships, three decks of cards, cardboard chits, dice, a game board, AND additional game props is most likely an overwhelming experience for the casual. Yet, a game with a set of dice, player pieces, two decks of cards, and a game board may seem less threatening. There is no magic number for types of components, but I generally take mental stock of what items are included in a game to decide if a game would suit my group of casual players. Despite this, watch out for games that appear simple with few components, but have cards that serve multiple purposes (e.g., Twilight Struggle), more than four types of tokens, chits, cubes, and/or bits, asymmetrical player powers, random starting board states, or a combination of these concepts.

Ponder the Attractiveness of the Theme
Let's admit it: some things may seem boring to the casual player. Trading in the Mediterranean? It had better be a visually-stunning game. Stock market trading? It had better have a lot of yelling. Space or science fiction? Make sure your group likes sci-fi. When choosing a game, think about your casual friends and what they might like. When in doubt, stick to popular tropes (Marvel, Star Wars, Disney, Star Trek, Harry Potter, or the like) or themes that are reminiscent of themes that are currently popular.

However, I have found that certain themes can backfire. For instance, though Game of Thrones and other sword-and-sorcery shows are popular, the medieval fantasy milieu is NOT for everyone and may be a turn-off. During one session when I presented Shadows over Camelot to my group, one of my not-so-casual friends quipped that the game was TOO nerdy for him, as if his traumatic memories of Dungeons & Dragons (or any other fantasy-themed game) had infected his outlook on knights and wizards. Identifying these "backfire" themes can be difficult, so I recommend adhering to the basic approach of avoiding themes that have stigmas attached to them, such as fantasy or sci-fi. I'll admit it: though nerdiness is en vogue now, some of your non-gamer friends may have no interest in stereotypically "nerdy" genres. Consider themes that are more universally relatable, such as transportation, economics, or crime.

Head-Simulate the Session
After all of your analysis, try to put yourself in the minds of your casual-player friends. Imagine conducting the gaming session with them, taking into account the non-gamerness of each person; this is the essence of head-simulation. Would they enjoy this game? Would they spend too much time asking questions? Does the game become bogged down? By doing this, you can avoid some stolid game sessions that, consequently, convince your friends that board games are boring.

Go with Your Gut
Even if one of your shortlisted games passes the various tests I have posited, I strongly advise you to rely on your "gut reaction." Sometimes, there are intangible elements to weigh, including your own ability (or inability) to teach a particular game effectively, your own qualms against a certain game, or even your past bad experiences with that game. Your intuition (i.e. your gut) should suffice in considering these things. Ultimately, if you feel that a game just won't work for your casual friends, put it back on the shelf and move on to the next game.


The hardest thing for any board game enthusiast to do is to admit that board games are just NOT the way to go when it comes to entertainment for a particular evening. I have walked into many adult gatherings with my duffle bag of games in hand, ready to expose my friends to some truly wonderful creations, but deciding not to open my duffle after all. I try to read the room, sensing if the host would be open to me hijacking the party by declaring that I'm starting a board game. Or, if I'm the host, I might detect that "odd" desire of people to "just relax" and not want to use their brains for anything besides socializing. Sure, there are awesome social games that fit this crowd (such as Two Rooms & A Boom or One Night Werewolf), but this is an article about non-gateway games for casuals... Occasionally, the best thing to do is not to play; save the games for another day when the conditions are right.

Is Chess Really the Best Board Game Ever?

(Note: in this article, I capitalized Chess, Go, and Shogi, even though they are not often capitalized in writing, to not only pay homage to these games, but also to have their names stylistically resemble the names of modern games.)
In the United States, as many of you know, most people who do not play board games as a passionate hobby have heard of such games as Monopoly, Sorry, Clue, Risk, Connect Four, Stratego, Candy Land, Chutes (or Snakes) and Ladders, Checkers, Backgammon, and, of course, Chess. Some of them are fine games even now, but some are outmoded and/or involve no sense of agency or decision-making whatsoever (I'm looking at you, Chutes and Ladders), yet Chess seems to retain that mystique as being a "classic" game. To be sure, Chess is so widely played and has such longevity that it has been venerated to "best game of all time" status by many folks, at least as far as I can tell. You could probably ask any person on the street about the best board game of all time, and I would not be surprised that Chess is mentioned more than once.

The funny thing about Chess, though, is that for all of its history and (clearly) international recognition as a game for really smart people who make a profession out of studying and playing it, finding people who really ENJOY Chess can be a very challenging task. Indeed, there are grandmasters, wannabe grandmasters, local tournament winners, and even faux-protegies who fancy Chess. These same folks plunge headfirst into study, memorizing openings and closings, dissecting past matches, and learning so much about the vagaries of the game that they come to see in-game patterns of play that are only visible to a true Chess enthusiast. I believe that it is because of this level of erudition and perceived difficulty that people somewhat begrudgingly acknowledge Chess as the best game of all time; some people even use Chess as a determiner of how intelligent or strategic a person is, which is incredible for a game to be vaunted to that status.

It is these same folks that underscore the greatest challenge presented to the would-be player of Chess: to be good at it, you have to study and study and practice and study. This may be true of many pastimes and even other board games, but Chess elevates this requirement to a very high level such that only staunch enthusiasts really enjoy Chess. I suppose that a degree of mastery of anything both dictates if one enjoys that thing and how much he or she enjoys that thing with other people. If you know how to play some tennis, you will enjoy tennis with people of similar skill level, practice habits, determination to improve, and play experience. However, if you are a casual weekend warrior who plays against a former Division I college tennis star, both you and the almost-pro would not have a fun time (unless the would-be pro is sadistic and relishes trouncing sad-sack casuals). In any case, practice and study (and even, dare I say, natural ability) are key to enjoying tennis, Chess, or whatever, but some pastimes require it more than others (such as Chess).

This leads me back to the question posed in the title of this post: is Chess the best board game of all time? Well, let's splay out its credentials: simple rules for movement and attack, elegant board and piece design, wide-ranging global availability and recognition, centuries of tried-and-true competitive play, and the accessibility of volumes of scholarly study of which any student of the game can avail himself or herself. Add to that the myriad of rebadged sets (Lord of the Rings Chess, Civil War Chess, Mario Chess, and so on!), levels of competition, and variations (Shogi!) and you have a venerable game that is appreciated and adored the world over... Yet I contend something that a few others have suggested...

Chess is outdated, abstract, inaccessible to the casual UNLESS he or she plays against another casual player, limited in gameplay, and so exclusive that you must commit serious study (or possess immense, natural, genius-level skill) to be remotely competitive.

So... let me unpack that recognizably controversial statement. First of all, Chess is a centuries-old game, which is fine except that, especially in the last, say, 30 years, there has been a wealth of deep, rich board games and card games that have been developed and published that are replete with theme and fluff (i.e. little theme nuggets that work within the rules to reinforce game play) that enliven such games. To find out more, simply navigate to www.boardgamegeek.com and browse the top 200 strategy games.

Secondly, as I pointed out earlier, you have to dedicate time and focus to compete in Chess, which makes it less out-of-the-box playable against semi-skilled players than a game like Ticket to Ride or Carcassonne. Sure, both of these games have randomness, and Chess does not, but I contend that it's only enough randomness to give the inexperienced player a little boost. Some have decried randomness as a "crutch" that can punish expert play, but there is a skill to mitigating randomness. For example, in the X-Wing Miniatures Game, your attack and defense dice rolls may stymy your good flying and firing-arc aiming, but you can improve your chances with well-chosen upgrades that allow for re-rolls or by selecting the right action to perform, such as getting that Focus token that increases your hit percentage per die from 50% to 75%. Dealing with randomness is a skill set that is necessary in life, and it is something absent in Chess (which is NOT an ironclad argument against Chess, per se, but it does reinforce my point that Chess does not really support the inexperienced player).

Thirdly, even though computers have calculated the millions of possible moves in Chess, in practice, as the game state progresses, your options are very limited. For instance, after six moves, the board is in a state in which there are more horrible moves that can lead to capture than excellent moves (or even harmless moves) that allow you to advance your pieces. Though some may contend that this is a GOOD thing which compels people to find the true value of any piece and weigh its sacrifice against better future position or (even better) baiting an opponent to expose a strong piece for capture, that feeling of agency is illusory. To me, Chess has always felt like it's "on rails," which is an inexorable path; eventually, there is going to be a bloodbath that manifests itself in a rapid cascade of sacrifices until one player ends up with more materiel. Funnily enough, this substantiates my point because, ultimately, there is only ONE victory condition in Chess: the capture of the king, which is in and of itself quite limiting.

Lastly, let's discuss the exclusive nature of Chess with more depth. Once again, if you do not study and practice, you are nothing more than a casual player who knows the rules, but little else. There's nothing wrong with that... until you encounter a friend or co-worker who is looking for an opponent and is found wanting when she realizes that she can utterly defeat you every time. Even worse than that, though, is the almost-fact that unless you are somewhat equal to your opponent, the game is not really fun for either of you. Now, some may point at competitive Chess and say that Magnus Carlsen must not be having fun when he's defeating other "lesser" grandmasters, but the difference between him and those players is (and this is my somewhat unresearched contention) miniscule. We're talking about minute differences in skill level; on a "bad day," Carlsen could lose to any of those players. That's why games between grandmasters involve multiple matches; on any given day, one grandmaster, at least in theory, can beat another one. Anyway, unless you're competing at a grandmaster level, any appreciable skill level difference can render Chess un-fun for the lesser player (unless the lesser player is learning actively through defeat). That, primarily, is why Chess is exclusive, but I can also point out that it always plays as a two-player game unless you have a wonky four-player version of Chess (which is super-fun, actually).

Now that I've stated all of this, I will venture to guess that you, the reader, are mentally shooting down each argument with these thoughts:

• Just because Chess is old doesn't mean that it's outdated or awful.
• I hate many games because of the randomness; card draws, dice rolls, and other randomizers have ruined game sessions for me.
• Randomness is indeed a crutch and you're a sad individual who needs crutches to beat better players.
• Of course you have to study and practice! Every sport and worthwhile game is like that!
• I don't play competitive Chess anyway. I just enjoy it.
• Chess is eminently accessible. It's played all over the world and is much cheaper than most of your fancy board games (particularly X-Wing!).

Here's my controversial response to all of these statements: you're absolutely right! I cannot refute any of these statements, which makes me think that much of what I've proffered is a personal position and NOT a statement of fact, so let me try this statement:

There are so many beautiful, strategically-deep, slightly random games out there that allow people to exercise creativity and guile without the "on rails" feeling of Chess and WON'T break your budget.

One example of this is Agricola. For $45 USD, you get a worker-placement game that is only as random as the stage cards that are revealed (if you play the Family Edition with no Occupation or Minor Improvement cards) and has a few paths to victory, though you ultimately win with a diverse farm. It also plays up to four players out of the box.

How about Great Western Trail? For about $40 USD (depending on the time of day), you can play a wonderfully-illustrated game that can have a different starting board state each game and a random set of cows in hand, but provides that feeling of agency as you build buildings along a path to help you and disrupt your opponent.

There is even a Chess variant that lets you deploy one of your opponent's captured pieces as your own piece during the next turn: Shogi. The pieces move somewhat similarly to Chess, except nothing beats the thrill of dropping your Gold attacking piece in a position that is very close to the opponent's king. In Japan, the pieces and the board were roughly $15 to $20 USD, and I cannot imagine they would be much more expensive elsewhere.

There may even be folks out there that prefer Go to Chess because of the fluid nature of the game and the even higher numbers of possible moves than Chess. I've never played Go, but I can state this: it took much longer for developers to create a computer program to beat top Go players than it did to create programs to beat top Chess players.

Let's return to the question: is Chess the best board game ever? Unequivocally, I'd say "No," not necessarily because of the panoply of arguments I've put there as the wide recognition that almost-equally-venerable Go is better than Chess as a game of creativity and organic play. Even if you don't agree with THAT statement, I would wager that I've cast a lot of doubt on the assertion that Chess could even be considered the best board game ever, which is what I feel I have achieved with this post. Of course, this is not to state that Chess is awful or a "bad game." Actually, it's IS one of the best for all of the reasons I've mentioned (even in my arguments against it), and it is a fine representative of abstract games in the hobby, but I feel we have come a long way in the board gaming hobby to where you can be a farmer, a cattle rancher, a vegetable trader, a trader in the Mediterranean, a car builder, or even a Space Lion AND have meaningful in-game decisions. Chess is no longer the best, but one of the best of the abstract games.

As I conclude, let me posit a somewhat tangential argument. The Beatles are publicly regarded as arguably the best rock band of all time with their blend of musicianship, songwriting, Top Ten hits, marketability, good looks (generally), and four decent-to-great lead singers who each had successful solo careers (Ringo did have the first solo hit song, by the way). One would be hard-pressed to argue otherwise because of the breadth of evidence. However, I put forth that The Police had three superior musicians, one superlative songwriter and singer (though I must admit that John Lennon's writing was as superlative as Sting's when it comes to depth and introspection) and were also marketable with good looks. In my mind, The Police were the better band, but they also benefited from the groundwork laid by The Beatles, whose diverse genre-bending catalog of songs expanded the rock landscape. Chess is similar: modern board games owe their existence to Chess. In this way, we should always elevate Chess, but also keep in mind that better creations were devised on its shoulders.