Don’t be that fool
His troops enter my city. With one swift move, he cuts me off from resources and recruitment opportunities. I’m finished. For the next hour and a half, I’ll be dying of boredom trying to gather an army, but I know I’ve just lost my chance at victory.
“You could have met him head-on, sent out a patrol, and stopped his march a province earlier. He wouldn’t have gotten into your city,” says Michał.
“Is that possible? Can you stop him during his turn?” I ask, surprised.
“Well, yeah, before any enemy troop movement, you have the right to launch a counter-attack and strike the marching column.”
“I didn’t know that,” I reply, both furious and embarrassed.
Furious, because I lost this game, I gave up my capital only because I didn’t know one rule. I could have stopped him on the way to the city, then reinforced it, brought in the rest of my troops – the whole situation would have looked completely different, and I would still be in the running for victory.
Embarrassed, because whose fault is it? Well, mine. I wasn’t focused on listening to the rules, I forgot about that rule, I’m the fool who’s losing not because I made poor tactical decisions, but because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know the game rules.
***
Nothing frustrates me more in games than a situation like this. A situation where a fool like me takes away the satisfaction of victory from an opponent, where I make such a basic mistake that the victory loses its flavor. The whole game shifts from “You really played well, congratulations!” to “If I had known that rule, you wouldn’t have won.” bullshit.
And there are two more guys at the table, disappointedly watching me as I wrecked the whole game, as I let the opponent seize my capital effortlessly, and now, with a cruel smile, he turns toward them. I’ve thrown off the balance of the whole game. I’ve ruined the game for all four of us.
I, the fool who sits down to play without knowing all the rules. The fool whose ignorance didn’t just spoil the fun for himself, but for everyone at the table.
So today, a plea – don’t be a fool. Grit your teeth, clench your fists, and when someone explains the rules, listen.
I strongly believe that good board game is the one that tells a good story. You play it and suddenly you are sucked into it, you feel chills on the skin. Emotions grow. In a moment you defend castle. You hear roar of warriors. You smell boiling oil. You are into it.
That's how I design my games. I always want to tell a good story. I want players to be into it. As deep as possible.
I normally don’t like when other people quarterback on someone’s turn. But this is the one situation that I would allow it — when a player is definitely lost, completely, obviously unaware of a *rule* (not a play, but a rule) that is just about to ruin the game for them, I prefer they be „reminded” of it. „Hey, this is actually an option if you need to do it.”
I don’t know what others feel about that. It’s not gonna happen too often, though, because not everyone pays exclusive attention to what others are doing on their turn and how they seem to feel. If it is already too late to make a better decision now, then we just talk about it after the game and hope we can play again correctly next time.