Why ‘bored games’ aren’t all that bad
It’s the last leg of our two-week trip to the U.S, and we’re in Atlanta to visit family: my aunt, uncle, seven cousins and one cousin-in-law. After 10 days on the road, we are in dire need of home cooking and free babysitting. Out of all the cities we have visited, Atlanta feels the most like Toronto.
We arrive to find my cousins in the grip of a new obsession — board games. Or as I like to call them, “bored games.”
I’m not a game person. When my students want to play a game in class, I distract them with a test. When my kids want to play hide and seek, I distract them with chocolate. When my friends want to play Taboo or Settlers of Catan, I wander over to browse their bookshelves. I can’t be bothered to muster the energy to pretend to care.
I wish I wasn’t like this, but I take Shakespeare’s words to heart: “To thine own self be true.” The truth is, I avoid games because I am a childishly, spectacularly bad loser. It’s usually better for everyone if I don’t play at all.
So when my cousin Salwa tells us about their new interest in board games, I try not to cry. Ten days with no one to talk to other than my kids and husband have made me desperate for real conversation. And if that means I have to play a “bored game,” well . . . what happens in Atlanta, stays in Georgia. Also, a good guest shows an interest in their hosts’ hobbies.
They tell us about their game collection, listing titles such as Ticket to Ride, Dominion, The Resistance, Shadows over Camelot, King of Tokyo and One Night Ultimate Werewolf. I’ve never heard of any of these games. What happened to Scrabble, Monopoly and Life? Maybe this is an American thing. “These are considered gateway games,” my cousin Hisham, resident Games Master, tells us. Gateway to what? I wonder.
After dinner, my husband, kids and cousins play a round of One Night Ultimate Werewolf, while I play Ticket to Ride, a strategy game involving trains, with my aunt, uncle and Salwa. I come in last place, but it’s not too painful. I might even have enjoyed myself.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crowd has moved on to The Resistance, a social deduction game involving spies and intrigue. They get louder the longer they play, as accusations fly around the circle and my cousins argue over loyalties. I play a few rounds too, and manage to
Travel broadens your horizons and helps you grow as a person. That can be the only explanation for my transformation from hater to go-with-the-flow mediocre gamer
keep my identity a secret until the end. For the first time in my life I’m playing a game, and not hating every second.
It’s not the game, I realize, but the players. My cousins are really into the competition, and their over-the-top theatricality is hilarious, without a trace of sore-loser-dom.
The next day, Mohamed, (a.k.a. “the awesome one”) along with my younger cousins, introduce my kids to King of Tokyo while my husband and I are indoctrinated into Dominion, a fast-paced strategy card game. I lose again, but I don’t throw down my cards and sulk, so that’s a win for me. That night they take us to an Austin Powers-themed escape room, and I even feebly suggest a few clues. Travel broadens your horizons and helps you grow as a person. That can be the only explanation for my startling transformation from hater to go - with-the -flow mediocre gamer. I have opted in, and the rewards of participation are clear: fun, laughter, togetherness. When we leave four days later, I have played (and cheerfully lost) five different types of games. My American cousins are a good influence on me.
A few days after we return to Toronto, my husband orders Ticket to Ride, Dominion and The Resistance to play at home with whoever we can convince to join our ranks. We have crossed the threshold and are well past the gateway. Let the games begin! Uzma Jalaluddin is a high school teacher in the York Region. She writes about parenting and other life adventures. Reach her at ujalaluddin@outlook.com