Settling for Catan

(Vacation is over, as is my enormous, soul-sucking “day job” project, so I can finally sink my teeth into a few posts I’ve been looking forward to writing about for a while.)

Some good friends came to stay with us for a couple of nights while we vacationed in a cabin next to a small lake in Vermont in August. Hanging out with them really was a wonderful change of pace. They’re far more educated, sophisticated, and smart than many of the people we know locally, so we had the pleasure of carrying on serious, adult conversation and activities. (I don’t mean to disparage the friends we see more often, but they fulfill a different friendship niche.)

After my daughter went to bed, our friends expressed interest in trying a game. Looking through what we’d brought, we opted for the least geeky offering: Settlers Of Catan. Without the expansion, we couldn’t all play. My wife opted to knit and sit in as professional, equal-opportunity kibbitzer.

And then I started explaining the rules. I like to think I do a good job explaining rules. I work as a technical writer in my day job, so I’m no stranger to explaining technical specialized concepts to a non-specialized audience.

So I wasn’t prepared for the downright hostility. One player in particular hated everything she heard me say about the game. It sounded too complicated, too strategic (”It’s like chess!”), too competitive.

This woman is no fool. She’s a high-powered lawyer who has a ready grasp of any topic you can think of. She reads widely and achieves everything she sets out to get. She’s also extremely nice.
But as I realized that, I realized the root of her hostility. She didn’t think the game was too complicated, strategic, or competitive. She was too competitive. She liked explicitly non-competitive games but bridled at the possibility of a game she might lose.

She did not want to lose.

A little gentle ribbing on this point got us through the rules explanation and into play. And alas, she fared very poorly. She lost badly, even though I deliberately made a few bad strategic decisions that I knew would go in her favor.

But the friendly atmosphere, the good humor, and the inherent fun of the game won her over. She was the first to ask to play again (everyone was amenable), and even though she didn’t win that time, she wanted to play one more time.

Our three games kept us up till two in the morning, and even though we had trouble keeping our eyes open, we had a grand time.

So what did I learn? That a game can’t be appreciated without being played. That personal relationship skills come into play even before the board is set up.

And most importantly: that “non-gamers” may be non-gamers for want of opportunity and gentle introduction rather than because they wouldn’t like that game.

I have some other friends (somewhat more geeky but not by much) who I’ve been courting to play a roleplaying game (Buffy The Vampire Slayer seems like a good choice, as they’re big fans of the show). I’ve been cautious and hesitant, not wanting to scare them away.

I think now it’s time to get over that. When they try it, they’ll love it.

Add comment August 27th, 2007