OUR LONG NATIONAL NIGHTMARE IS OVER

Finally, and mercifully, the Cardinals have broken their losing streak. It was a night I thought I'd never see--not just because of the depressing losing streak, but because it was Seat Cushion night, which I thought the Cardinals would never have again--after this:

Former Cardinals second baseman Tom Herr -- also selected to the All-Busch Stadium team -- was the catalyst of a moment that might never happen again in sports history. In 1987, Herr hit a walk-off grand slam against the New York Mets in the 10th inning on seat cushion night at Busch Stadium.

"At every opportunity, [fans] were throwing [seat cushions] on the field, the game had to be stopped at a couple of occasions," Herr recalled. "Then the game went to the [10th inning], so whoever still had their seat cushion threw them on the field after the home run. I don't think they had another seat cushion night after that.

It was a moment Cardinals fans never let him forget.

"I don't have one, but I have signed a bunch of them," Herr said.

(That's from this article about the end of Busch Stadium II.)

Two last-at-bat wins on Seat Cushion night--and, yes, tonight the field was littered with them again. Doubtless it'll be another 19 years before they try again...Wish I coulda been there in person.

(Apologies to Pirates fans, whose Long National Nightmare continues apace.)

CHEWING MY KNUCKLES

A game I'm mighty curious abot is Epic of the Peloponnesian War, the latest offering from Clash of Arms. It's a fascinating conflict, and the game looks beautiful. I like the idea of making a Really Good, in-depth treatment of the subject.

What worries me is the first rating comment on the game, from Nate Merchant (natus):

This is not at all a fair rating, for we only played one season. However, from setup to finish it took I am not kidding you *five hours* at least, and I repeat that is ONE season. Now, it was our first game, and there was a lot of checking and re-checking of rules, but this baby is a Monster Game. We also foolishly played the Campaign game, hoping at least to get some turns in.

I don't know. On one hand, who bloody has that kind of time? On another, it's a really neat system. The set-up time is murderous and the rules are pretty freaking complicated for being so short(non-grognards beware!) However, I would like to play it again, seriously this time. After another careful examination of the rules, it may go much more quickly. But it would have to, right? Maybe this is the perfect game for Cyberboard or Vassal. Whatever you do, don't forget your tweezers!

I'm just not sure I'm up to devoting chunks of my life to these games. I used to have a copy of War in Europe...that was insane. I still have my copy of Europa Universalis, though...

I'm curious to see when the first report from a full campaign game comes in. This is the kind of game I'd love to have if it's actually playable.

SPIELBYWEB, MY OLD FRIEND, WE MEET AGAIN

I need some online Amun-Re in my life. If you need some online Amun-Re in your life, over on www.spielbyweb.com there's a game called "Summer Doldrums" which one may enter with the password tajmahalfred.

See you there!

GOOD TO BE HOME

Got back into STL on Wednesday afternoon; by Friday evening, I was back playing games. Good times...

Jorge and Eva had Jay (the inestimable ynnen) and I over for an evening of games and good fellowship. It was good to see them all again after a long layoff; it was especially good to see that Jorge and Eva had their game shelves up, and the games were no longer piled on top of the couch.

First up: Medina. It's kind of an overlooked game. I like it, but it's not a real favorite. There's stuff going on that I just don't think much about. Does anyone go "Oo, I should start the Orange palace near the 4-point tower, so I might get eight points"? I guess I don't approach the game at the level of seriousness it demands. I won; it helped that I sat to the left of Jay, who had never played. He let me start the last black palace--which I badly needed--in an open part of the board, rather than starting it off in the middle of nowhere. That was the whole point differential, as first and last were separated by a mere seven points.

Next up: Dos Rios, one that's new to me that I've wanted to play for a while. I think everyone at the table had the same impression of the game: The mechanics are good, but the endgame and scoring leave a lot to be desired. The pieces are great, I like the moving-the-river mechanic. I like how you can see what kinds of scores are coming up--whether we're going to harvest corn, or wheat, (or maize, or corn), etc.

The trouble is that, at some point, it became clear that either Jay or Jorge was going to win--probably Jay, but if Eva and I really felt like it we could throw the game to Jorge. She and I, though, were quite doomed. This was everyone's first game, so presumably we were playing suboptimally, but it still felt wrong. What struck me was that this should be a "money" game, not a "build things" game--that is, whoever has the most money at the end should win, not whoever has built all their stuff. (Or whoever has four things built, all along the river.)

We were tossing around ideas, and they looked a little something like this (the particular numbers are things I've made up just sitting here):

When a field gets harvested, you get $100 for a hex farmed by a campesino, $200 for a casa, and $500 for a hacienda. The game ends when the sixth bandit comes up, and both rivers are farmed one last time. Whoever has the most money wins.

(Other possibilites exist. Say, at the end you get extra money for each building, or whatever. There are lots of ways to do this sort of thing.)

It seems like there would be less of a kingmaker endgame that way, and it'd be more in keeping with the theme. Has anyone tried anything like this?

As it is, it's not a game I'm on the lookout to play again soon. I'd be curious to try a variant or two, though...

Third game: Fairy Tale. I'd never gotten a chance to play. After one game--where I came in last, I think--I'm a big fan. It's fast, but it's not entirely trivial. The whole game is in the draft. Once you get your five cards, I didn't have any trouble deciding which three I wanted to play, and in which order. Although...I did finish last, so maybe there's a subtlety or five I missed. I was never really into Magic: the Gathering, so I don't do a lot of card-drafting. I like the system; it seems like there could be more uses for it. I wish the little glyphs at the bottom of the card--showing what cards act with it--were a little clearer at a distance, but that's a nitpick. A game I'd gladly play again.

We finished up with Palazzo--a third game that's new to me! I'm not sure if I prefer playing old favorites or a slate of new games; I tend to like whatever I just did, it seems. Palazzo got a fairly lukewarm reception when it came out. It's not a blockbuster, a "you gotta play this" kind of game, but it's quite nice, I think. As many have mentioned, there are a lot of other games in here: A little Alhambra, a touch of Lost Cities, some Clocktowers...but it all comes together.

I won. I followed two principles:

1. Don't buy stuff you can't use;
2. Make the game move quickly.

It's a little like Canasta (possibly--no, definitely--my favorite "traditional" card game). One partnership usually tries to get a bunch of cards and make a bunch of melds; the other tries to go out ASAP, scoring not-so-much but leaving the opposition with a bunch of junk in their hands. Jay and Jorge bought a whole lot of levels, but needed several reorgs to put them together. Meanwhile, everything Eva and I had worked together, so we were looking for a combination of the finishing touches on our palazzi, and to bring out the murals fast so Jay and Jorge would be stuck with some neg-fives. It worked nicely. I won, Eva finished second, and Jay and Jorge were well back.

I won, so clearly I like it--and, indeed, I do. I like games that aren't trivial, but I still somehow seem to grasp on early playings. It's a rare game that baffles me early on, but keeps me coming back for more. Web of Power is one--and, happily, eventually I did grasp the game. Reef Encounter, Tichu...yeah, I just don't understand what's going on there, and I'm really not enthralled enough to keep trying.

A fine gaming start to my stay in STL--hopefully much more to come!

GREETINGS FROM SHEBOYGAN

Sheboygan: Not a well-known tourist destination. Kind of a shame, really, since it's such a pleasant town. It's not especially exciting, it didn't feel like it was beating with life when I walked around downtown, but walking around felt like you're in your favorite shirt, favorite jeans, and wearing your favorite shoes. The lawns are mowed, the houses are painted, and there's a pervasive sense that everything's right with the world.

A lot of Sheboyganites fought in the Civil War in Arkansas, which brought me to the public library in town, which (I was assured) had some archives of interest. My sense is that not too many people come in looking for archival material, as a lot of procedures had to be reviewed by the staff when I announced my purpose. There was a little bit of paperwork nobody was familiar with, and nobody knew what to do with it, but it's in the book: When someone wants to use the archives, they get the Green Forms. So, I dutifully filled out the Green Forms and awaited my boxes.

As usual with archival records, virtually all of it was useless. The most intriguing record was from the commander of the 27th Wisconsin--one of "my" regiments. It didn't tell me anything I didn't know from others, but I was curious if there was anything else from him. Nobody had any idea--everything in the files is from eons ago, so the accession record is either lost or useless.

It's interesting. The stereotypical officer-enlisted men interaction about conditions on the march is that the officers routinely underestimate the hardships faced by the enlisted men. Here, it's the opposite--the officers all wrote after the campaign that their men were starving to death, eating grass, etc. The men all wrote "Eh, it wasn't great, but whatever. We dealt." Or, to paraphrase one letter-writer, "Sure, we ran out of hardtack two days before we got back to Little Rock--but I had plenty of ham." (Ham-on-the-trotter, of course, being available en route. Another diarist wrote of the "amazing chickens" in the region who flew unbidden into their camp stew pots--Shmoo-like. Some diarists are great ironists.)

That only took a half-hour to process, so I walked around downtown Sheboygan. Very storefront-y. Lots of room for pedestrians, not that there were very many of us. Sheboygan isn't really on the way to anything; it's partway between Milwaukee and Green Bay, but I don't think that's an enormously-travelled highway. The area is home to Kohler, makers of fine plumbing fixtures. If you're way more interested in shower heads than I am, you can tour the Kohler factory. (No free samples at the end, though.) I did tour the Kohler Art Center, though, in Sheboygan.

It's not the Met, obviously, but as a small local museum it has a lot going for it. Kohler puts a lot of effort, it would see, into fostering the arts--locally and more broadly. One gallery was devoted to a project it funded for artists to explore representing the human form in ceramics; it didn't pull me in, but whatever. The neat exhibition was called "Utopia," featuring artists creating and depicting imagined worlds. Back when I was unwell, I would compulsively draw maps of imagined worlds--maybe to try to create a little orderly, in-control corner of my life. My sense is that a number of the artists on display in "Utopia" were working through issues of their own, and driven by similar needs.

Few artists in this exhibition would be considered "well-known." One such might be A. G. Rizzoli, a Bay-Area architectural draftsman in the early 20th century who--unbeknownst to anyone until a decade after his death--created this "unreal city." It was laid out kind of like a World's Fair--lots of monumental buildings dedicated to this, that, or the other. Most of the dedications were to his pet philosophical and politcal causes (the huge skyscraper of Euthanasia sticks out in my mind). The buildings were designed according to a complex and little-understood symbolic code--each building represented someone in his life (often his mother--paging Dr. Freud; Dr. Freud, please call your office). The detail in them is incredible; you can't stop looking at them.

Another artist who stands out--forgot his name, of course--uses a .3 mm mechanical lead pencil, and further files down the lead to a "hypodermic point," and with this delicate instrument draws imagined cityscapes. The finished pieces are on letter-sized Strathmore, but the art itself is miniscule--two square inches, maybe. The detail here, too, is insane. We are assured that the artist doesn't use any magnification. This is a good exhibition for people who like OCD-level detail in their art. It's also good if you like very, very outré philosophies expounded in art.

If the Kohler Art Center is famous for anything, it's for their bathrooms. Seriously. Befitting a museum built largely on money from the sale of bathroom fixtures, each restroom is designed by a different artist. They're definitely worth a look. It's...kind of unsettling, honestly, and take it from me: You will be glad that I warned you before you went in. The one I went in had the whole works--floor, walls, urinals, sinks--covered in dark painted tiles that served to camouflage everything. Neat, yes, but perhaps not the most utilitarian restroom in existence.

So, if you find yourself in Sheboygan--for whatever unknown, unknowable reason--give the Kohler Art Center, and the rest of the city, a look. Highly recommended for a stay of a day or three.

ONE GAME SEVEN, COMING UP

Y'know. This has been a heck of a NHL playoffs; after a highly depressing season for this loyal Blues fan, it's good to see some excellent hockey. And this Oilers/'Canes game six...the Oilers came out playing like a team possessed.

Of course, if Edmonton wins Game Seven, their "momentum" from their inspired Game Six will be credited. If they lose, clearly it will be because they "had nothing in the tank" from an exhausting night in Edmonton.

Sportswriting cliches: Gotta love 'em.

GAMING AT THE UNION

Wednesday night is the game night at the U. Wisconsin Memorial Union, and I had the pleasure to attend--making my second game night in a week! It's been a while since I had one of those weeks.

By a little after five enough players had shown up to get three games going. As the "guest," I got to pick a game--I chose El Grande, since it was out, I hadn't played it in a while, I'm pretty good at it, and hey: My choice. I was joined by Mike, Todd...and...um...another guy, who was new to the game. Contrary to my usual gaming personality, I raced out to an early lead thanks to some Special Scoring cards. By the second scoring "timecheck," though, I had been clipped by a point by the newbie. Mike had trailed for much of the game, but made a roaring comeback the last three turns, as I furiously bailed water to keep afloat, and keep the newbie away.

I arranged it so I went into the last round with the high card, so I guaranteed first. I got the card that has every other player evict their caballeros from one province of their choice, which was the card I absolutely could not have played on me--I had all my caballeros concentrated in four provinces. I put my guys in the Castillo in a province to spoil the newbie, and finished first--two points ahead of Mike and the newbie, and some distance ahead of Todd, still.

It was, frankly, an exhilirating game. The top three of us each had a different strategy going. I was concentrating my forces, putting lots of guys in the Castillo, and trying to get special scoring cards. Mike held the King card most of the game, once he locked up New Castille (which by that time had the 8/4/0 scoring tile on it), and had a few second-places going. The newbie had caballeros--and points--in virtually every province, it seemed like. What saved me was that I had teriffic bids; I had high cards the last three rounds, so I could control my destiny to a significant degree. I never "wasted" going first--or got burned going last. A great game--El Grande, and this particular game of it.

Next, Mike and I joined Brett (disclaimer on BGG) for Das Ende des Triumvirats. This one has gotten a fair bit of good press; it was the first time for Mike and me, third or so for Brett. Mike and I played very, very suboptimally. There are three ways to win. Either you put all your provincial control markers on the board (a military victory), make your Triumvir's prestige and military ability points reach the top of the scale (a "competence" victory), or become consul twice (an electoral victory--or whatever it's called). If you win the consulship once, and subsequently get six of the eleven elector markers to come over to you, you get declared Emperor immediately. Mike and I kind of underestimated the power of the electors, and made vastly too little effort to wrest them from Brett--who won in that very manner.

It was OK, I guess. I played sufficiently poorly--and it's sufficiently complex--that I don't feel very qualified to give it a hard-and-fast rating, but I'm not dying to rush out and play it again. Right now I've given it a 6.5. I admire the game; there's a lot going on, there are multiple ways to win, and in our game Crassus (Brett) had boucoup money throughout, which is nice and realistic, I suppose. It just didn't sing for me.

The other gamers were locked into long games--Acquire and Struggle of Empires--so we three pulled out another game, Reef Encounter. I played it online a few months ago; this would be my first game against in-person opposition, with a physical board, and at least half-knowing the rules beforehand. The end result, though, was quite similar--I got slammed to the floor and danced on. I do not understand what's going on in this game. I didn't make quite as many obviously idiotic moves as I made in the SBW one, but I didn't make any more good moves, either.

It's a good game. I can see that; it's obviously very good at what it does. Playing the game well requires no little skill. It's colorful, deep, and has neat mechanics. It's just that not only do I not perceive its deep strategies; I don't perceive the superficial ones, either. I think Reef Encounter is going to be one of those very good games I let other people enjoy, while I focus on enjoying other great games. Luckily, there are many such.

It was a great night--especially since I got to discover (at Todd's urging) the glories of Babcock ice cream. Good gamers, good times. Probably my last set of games on the research junket--but I hope to get some in while I'm in St. Louis, starting Wednesday.

GREETINGS FROM MADISON

Ahh, Madison, Wisconsin. One of America's great college towns--a large university, a relatively small city to house it. A lot of the city's activity revolves around selling things to college students. Hackey sacks, buttons with pithy commentary--and, it would seem, games. I know of three at the moment.

Sunday afternoon, I rolled into town and found Netherworld, a downtown store with, I was assured, Sunday-night gaming. I came early so I parked the car in a parking garage (street parking is nutty even during the summer) and decided to take a walk up to State Street Mall, the "main street" of university-centered commerce by the University of Wisconsin. "It's, like, right here," I said to myself. "I don't need the map; I'll just leave it in the truck." Oops! Five miles of walking later--first I got lost, then I got stubborn--I finally made it.

State Street is quite the scene. It's called a Mall, but it's a long street of shops, really, rather than a real "mall." Bookstores, junk stores, restaurants for every taste--there are two Nepali joints. Me? I went to Subway. I felt like a loser, passing up a cournicopia of edible delights, but...I mean, the one Nepali place with a menu on the window had dinner specials starting at a mere $25. So I went for cheap.

At six or so, I made it back to Netherworld--which was all of three blocks away, of course. (If it weren't for getting lost, I'd have trouble getting enough exercise.) No games had started yet--well, except for Magic: the Gathering, which I don't happen to play--so I puttered around. After fifteen minutes or so, a game of Amun-Re started up--with me in it, of course. It was the first game for three of the five of us. Amun-Re has a little bit of a learning curve--there are a lot of rules, and the glyphs on the power cards are not always transparently clear--but I think they did a fine job overall. I was in fourth after the Old Kingdom, about a dozen points back. I ended up winning by two, the OK leader coming second. The weird thing is that I didn't really have that much money at the end of the Old Kingdom; I just got exactly what I wanted in the New. Probably this has something to do with three newbies. I spent most of the game going second; the player to my right had the Pharoah for all but two turns.

We shuffled around, and the next game I played was Mykerinos, the latest Ystari creation. It's a very clean area-majority game. I refer the curious to Greg Schloesser's session report for a game description, and stick to some commentary.

First, the theme is, in my opinion, tissue-thin. I didn't mind; I found the gameplay sufficiently intriguing that I didn't need to try to get sucked in. No clue how the powers shake out; I saw every one be useful at one time or another. I specialized in collecting Lady Violet cards, which let you play a "free" cube. That was good for me mostly because other people kept the rounds alive for me. I'd like to play a few more times, see how everything works in multiple playings.

For the time being, I give it a seven. That might turn into a six, six and a half. I'm not sure if it's a game that, in a few years, I'd think to myself "Man, I need to get some Mykerinos in." Favorable impression early on, though. I finished second.

Finally, we played Stefan Dorra's latest, Buccaneer. It's a light, fluffy confection. The major skill being tested is how well you can keep track of the value of the stacks. I'm pretty good at this sort of counting, so I won--but everyone was within nine points, I think. Here's how it works.

You're all pirates, going for booty. You have five men under you--wooden discs with values of 5, 4, 3, 2, and "?". You start the game with $10, and there are three ships in the middle of the table.

Each ship card has several parts. Most of the card is taken up with a pretty snazzy picture of the boat in question. The most important part shows how much booty is on board. Each ship has a certain amount of gold, and one or two "special" prize chits. The cards also have a "?" value--defining the strength of the "?" pirate discs--and an indicator of how many pirates are required to take the ship over.

You start the game with five "stacks" in front of you--each of your pirate discs, in a stack by itself. On your turn, you take a stack in front of you and either add an opponent's pirate to the bottom of your stack, or--if it's large enough--board a ship.

The top pirate on the stack is the "captain," and gets the first choice of special treasure chits on the ship. The pirate under the captain is the "first mate," and gets the other special chit, if there is one. After that, the gold is divvied up. This takes place from the bottom disc to the top. Let's say that there are five discs in the stack, from bottom to top: Black 5, Red 4, Blue "?", Red 2, and Green 5.

Let's say that the ship gives "?" pirates a value of 2, and has 22 gold on board. Black would get five gold, then Red 4, Blue 2, and Red 2. That leaves nine, all of which goes to the captain.

Now--let's say that, for the same stack, "?" is worth six, and the ship only has fifteen gold. Black would take 5 from the ship, Red four, Blue six--which is all fifteen. The Red 2 pirate is then paid out of Green's own money--as Green controls the captain--and Green gets nothing.

If you have three pirates in a stack, but you're not the captain, when the captain player's turn comes up, you can "mutiny" and force that player to board something with that stack. (That way, you can't just hijack a stack and keep pirates out of circulation.) There can also only be nine pirates in any given stack.

At the end of the game, you get a point for each gold piece you have, plus if you have more of a particular kind of special tresure chit than anyone else, you get the value of the chit (6, 9, 12, or 15)--ties divide the points among them--plus one for every "stray" chit you have.

Money and treasure is open, as are the tops of all the stacks. Thus, as mentioned, all you have to do to have perfect information is "count" the stacks.

It's filler. It moves quickly, you get to go "arr!" a lot, and--again--spiffy boat pictures. I give it a six, for what it is. Again, it's not a game where I'd ever say "Man, I wish I could get a game of Buccaneer in right now." Waiting for players, ending the night...that's its niche. The thing is, there are a lot of such games, and I don't think there's anything setting it apart.

Won two games, came in second in the third--A good night, for me. I'll be hititng another game night on Wednesday--looking forward to that.

HEADING STRAIGHT FOR THE SOURCE

On Friday nights, there's a boardgame group meeting at The Source, the Twin Cities' Palace O'Gaming. It's called the First Minnesota--after the Civil War regiment; if it were the Third Minnesota (the regiment I came to town to research), that'd have been even better.

I apparently came on an off night. There were usually only three games going on at once. Most of the open gaming was taken up by the HeroClix folks, who were very enthusiastic about drawing new people in.

I played three games. The first was against Gene, Adrian, and...another guy (EDIT: Mike. Thanks, Adrian!). We played La Strada, which I've only managed to play solo so I was looking for a game. It's light fare. It's a game of territory as much as connection--kind of like Blokus, in a sense. Gene and Adrian got blocked out of a huge chunk of the board, meaning that Mike and I would be duking it out for first place. I managed to win, as I better exploited the rest of the board. It's a fun game; I give it a 7. It's not a game I'd want to play all the time, but as a warm-up game it's great.

Mike left us then for a marathon 18XX game. I didn't notice which one it was. These are some serious 18XX players, from what I could gather. 18XX, like ASL, is a lifestyle choice I leave to others.

Mike's space was taken by Jeff. We pulled out another Martin Wallace game, Princes of the Renaissance. Gene had played before; this was the first time for the rest of us.

I liked it a lot. There's a lot of stuff going on, and I like how there seem to be a few different ways to proceed. The trick is picking out a strategy and exploiting it--buying the most useful forces, city tiles, and so on. You can't just feel your way forward. I also like how there are two kinds of currency in the game--money and influence. Some things you spend money on, others influence. You usually need one to get the other.

I had the family, I forget which, that lets you get involved in wars cheaper. Getting into wars--you play a condottiere, basically--is usually good for you. Much like most renaissance wars in Italy, actual combat losses are few--once you buy a troop tile, it fights for you for the rest of the game. First, a player proposes a war--picking an attacker and a defender. Then people bid on the privilege of providing one's army's services to the warring cities. If you win the bid, you get (the next turn) an amount of money equal to the city's current prestige value. (This value goes up and down throughout the game, usually as a result of the outcome of wars.) The player controlling the winning side gets a "laurel," which are worth VP at the end of the game.

I immediately bought a city card that increased my family's ability--thus, after that, I had two Influence Points reduced from my "war" bids instead of one. I then endeavored to get myself involved on one side or another of every single war. I had money coming out of my ears, and plenty of laurels to boot. I ended up winning, with 30 VP. Gene had 22--he'd have tied with me, but the last couple of player-actions took him down a few notches. Adrian had 21 points, Jeff 20. (I think that's how it shaked out.) Good stuff--I gave it an eight. It's a game I'd really like to play again soon.

The last game we played was Heart of Africa. I found it lacking, and rate it a three. Chris Farrell thought likewise, and I refer the curious reader to his reasons why, as they are identical to my own. (He does end up rating it higher than I do, though.) The final score was superficially close; Gene won, I came in second, just a few points back; Adrian just a point behind me. (Jeff took one for the team to keep Gene from winning at one point and finished far in the rear; it was a heroic sacrifice but was doomed to futility.) However, Adrian had no chance to win. I had a chance to win only if Gene made a serious, horrible bidding blunder. Gene had the game sewn up for a good ten turns before he at last put a final bullet into us.

Basically, it's a lot of interesting game mechanics that just don't mesh very well. That, and the ideograms on the action tiles are less than totally helpful, and sometimes just mistaken. I finished second and did virtually nothing the whole game except lose a battle. (I won one, too, after the game was unofficially decided.)

It's odd. Phalanx has yet to make a game I'm lukewarm on. Waterloo, Heart of Africa, First World War, Il Principe, Nero...yuck. (Some of those I gave up on, granted, having only read the rules and some reviews. I still won't play them.) Age of Napoleon, Revolution, That's My Fish, Naval Battles...love it. Mesopotamia I haven't tried.

We then talked shop for a while, which is another of my favorite gaming pastimes.

A great game evening; I discovered a new favorite game of mine--although, who knows, that could change after subsequent plays--along with a "comfort food" game, and...well, I discovered once and for all that a game that looked kind of interesting could safely stay on the store shelf. If you're in the area on Friday nights, givethe First Minnesota a look.

NOTES FROM THE ROAD

Des Moines, I like. Granted, the street system is all kinds of screwed up--the street numbers and addresses seem to jump around a lot. For instance, at one point I was looking for a 6800 University Ave. To do that, I had to drive past--coming from the east--a 7000, 7500, 8800, 4600, 3000, and 12393 University Ave. The State Archives are, according to the directions I had, at 6th and Locust. I show up at 6th and Locust...and find a nice bookstore, but no archives. After purchasing my books--yes, both relevant to my new line of work--I asked the proprietor where the Archives were. He said that they were on the other Sixth. I asked about the odd street-numbering system. He has no idea where it came from, but it was good for business--he got several out-of-town researchers every week looking for the archives and finding him, instead.

Des Moines also has an excellent art museum. They have one of my favorite Sargents--I love the sublime sneer on the boy's face--next to a terrific Bacon. Another of my favorites, by Diebenkorn, faces off against a lame Jeff Koons as if to mock it. It's housed in a Richard Meier building--much smaller than the Getty, to be sure--that really does a fantastic job. I didn't have nearly enough time to visit it.

Des Moines' major problem, other than the street numbering, is its Tex-Mex. I mean...I ordered an enchilada, chile relleno, and cheese quesadilla combo and I swear the enchilada and chile relleno were covered in (gulp) brown gravy. The sopapilla consisted of nachos covered with chocolate sauce with whipped cream and a cherry on top. It was horrifying, but the place was packed. Ah well...

I'm in Minneapolis now, writing from its archives, which were easier to find than Iowa's, and open--unlike Kansas'--and has WiFi, which is an improvement from both. Sadly, it doesn't have squat--I thought it had more, but I was wrong--so I'm mostly going to soak up WiFi for a little while.

This is the first town where I was honked at for not running a red light. After way too little of a sample size, traffic is nutty up here. Granted, I'm coming off months of Springfield, Lawrence, and Des Moines, so I may just need to reacclimatize myself. I did visit the Mall of America--still the world's largest, I think--and I must say I wasn't has horrified as I guess I kind of expected. The great thing about a huge mall, pulling in scads of people, is that it lets really small-niche businesses operate. I think there was a store selling nothing but horse magnets. There were a couple of game stores, neither of which was too shabby. One was a Games by James, which I recall from Austin--I think GBJ went under the waves a few years ago, in what I was given to understand (umpteenth-hand) was through some financial shennanigans, but either that was wrong, was limited to Austin locations, or the company revived itself.

I visited The Source. The following is a newly-updated list of my favorite game stores:

1. The Source
2. [vacant]
3. Great Hall Games (in Austin)

Sorry, Rob and Beka, but this place is amazing. They have everything! I've never even imagined anything like it. They had games I thought I'd never see again, games I thought weren't being sold in stores...It's an incredible store. Make a point of visiting if you find yourself in the Twin Cities. I may have to get that $25 copy of Machiavelli they had...

A LONG DAY AT THE OFFICE

On Monday, I headed off on my long journey, visiting the state archives of much of the midwest. First up was Kansas. The drive from Springfield to Topeka is easy enough, and despite having to navigate a roundabout I found myself at the door of the Kansas Historical Society...which, like apparently every other state office in Kansas, is closed on Mondays. Curses! Luckily, they only have one thing I can't get on interlibrary loan, so it's not a great loss.

I spent the next few hours bumming around nearby Lawrence, KS. Found some nice bookstores. They have a very college-towny downtown area--lots of shops, a combination of upscale and hippie. Much like Austin, there were plenty of rude homeless teenagers with dogs. I imagine that they got the dogs via the same "program" that exists (existed?) in Austin. I'm not sure what the thinking was there: "We just got some grant money? What should we do? Fund some job training?" "Why don't we give 'em all dogs?" "Brilliant!"

Just sayin' it's p'raps not the most efficient use of limited resources.

Shortly thereafter, I made my way out to the lovely home of Chad (aka chaddyboy 2000) and Caylyn Krizan--just back from their honeymoon! Nothing says the honeymoon is over quite like having gamers over, I say. There's still some settling-in to do, but the Krizans are off to an excellent start.

Gaming was to begin at seven. Jim Paprocki and others (names forgotten--I need a notebook, darn it), for a total of six of us. Kind of an unwieldy number. We decided to play Zepter von Zavandor--Outpost Reloaded. I'd not played Outpost in...gosh, ages, and I hadn't played it well back then. I'm not sure if it was the theme, but for whatever reason I found it much easier to follow what was going on with this version. I came in third. We all played sub-optimally, I think. I appreciate the game more than I actively like it. It just kind of drags for me. If it were a two-hour game, it'd be great.

We all stuck around for Diamant. It's a fine press-your-luck game. There are many such. What it seems to add is cowboy/miner meeples, with which one can play out all manner of...humorous skits, we'll call them. Some of these skits are based loosely on recent motion pictures set in the American West. So there's that. I did pretty badly. Last? Next-to-last?

Half the merry band left at this point, and the other three of us played Gemblo. We each took a turn going first--good thing, since the first player won or tied for first each game. It's pretty--even the extraneous velour bag--but I'm not sure it would fill a niche for me that Blokus doesn't--except for the five/six player thing.

So, three games I wouldn't buy--but I enjoyed myself immensely nevertheless. Always good to play games with good gamers, I say, and Chad and the bunch definitely qualify.

Thanks again, Chad and Caylyn!

ALSO

It was decided, around the table tonight, that I am "just like Ben Folds." I'm not entirely certain what this means; it is rare that I am compared (apparently with favor) to singer/songwriter pianomen.

Just thought I'd pass that along.

BLIND SQUIRREL FINDS ACORN: NEWS AT ELEVEN

Y'know, this trip around the midwest might just be my most concentrated gaming month in a long time. I'm hitting a lot of game nights here and there--hopefully good stuff awaits. June started off with a bang, as Susan and Gary had me over for games, along with Susan's sister Sharon and her husband Mickey. For me, it was one new game and a few veterans.

There wasn't a stack picked out this time, so we looked over the shelves. The Markers have their shelves arranged in a fun way: By who won the game last. I've never seen that before, but it's a great idea. Fun for bragging rights--"You'll note," Susan told me, "that my shelves have the most games on them." "Yeah," replied Gary, "but 'my' games are better." I highly recommend the system to all.

Sharon and Mickey are not regular gamers, so we made sure to pick out a game everyone knew. That game was Modern Art.

I am not, historically, any good at Modern Art. Some auction games I'm OK at; some...less so. Modern Art usually is an exercise in watching me come up with ludicrous bids in in-the-fist auctions. "Dude," people tell me, "the rest of us don't even have that much money." (Those who have played Goa with me may recall similar experiences.)

Let's take a look inside Alfred's brain when he picks up his Modern Art cards:

Oo! Pretty colors! Let's see...that's...two of this color, three of that color...AWESOME! I got the big-nosed Lite Metal guy! Hi, big-nosed Lite Metal guy! What do these symbols mean, again? Oo--I don't like the Dollar-Sign ones. That means I make up a price and people laugh at me. Put those at the end.

Let's pick up his thoughts again, when it's Alfred's turn in a once-around auction.

OK, first: Is it possible for me to bid? It is--shoot. That means I have to make a decision. OK: Don't let 'em see you sweat. Now...do I want to bid on this because I have cards by the same guy in my hand? Or is that why I wouldn't want to bid on it? Gosh darn it...OK, snap decision time. [covers watch with hand] If the second hand is between one and thirty seconds, I up the bid by one. After thirty seconds, I pass. OK, here we go--one, two...

Aaaand just for grins, Alfred's mind while playing Tichu, Wizard, or most other trick-taking games that aren't Hearts (and I don't want any !@*$ about how Tichu isn't really a trick-taking game; it's got cards, I suck at it--it's a trick-taking game):

What are these cards? They look...funny. And I sure do have a lot of them. Wait...where did I get these cards? Where am I? How did I get here? HELLLLP!!!

Enough of that.

What I'm saying is that my grasp of Modern Art auction strategy is less than ideal. In this game, though, I had a few things going for me. First, my initial hand was a "sampler"--I wasn't "long" in much of anything, so I didn't have to worry throughout the whole game that I should be doing something because I was long/short in a particular artist. Second, very few fixed-price auctions came up, and I didn't have to do one until the very end, and in all cases it was blisteringly obvious whether to buy the thing, on the one occasion when it came to me. The once-around auctions were still trouble; I never bid enough. I'm not sure why this is a problem; I'm good at Medici, after all.

Anyway, I only bought one entirely extraneous piece of art, which is pretty good by my standards. Usually I have two or three fourth- and fifth-place pieces in my gallery every round. I didn't have too many hard choices the whole game. We counted up our money after three rounds, and glory be I beat Sharon by about $5. Go me!

Next up, I was asked to teach Sharon and Mickey Santiago. That sounds wrong...I was asked to teach Santiago to Sharon and Mickey. (That's better. I don't know the Santiagos from a hole in the wall.) It had been a while since I had taught anyone Santiago, so my "patter" was a little rusty. Sadly, Mickey never quite grasped the final field scoring; he was under the impression that it was the number of farmers you have in the field, times the number of farms in the field on which you have farmers. I'm pretty sure I covered that, but it was a kind of confused narrative, I think. I should whip up a little player-aid card for it.

Anyway, I won. It was, as with many of my victories, somewhat tainted, but I take 'em any way I can get 'em. Mickey wasn't fond of the game even before he discovered the misunderstanding for field scoring; I always get a little bummed whenever someone I teach a favorite game of mine to doesn't like it. That's not really rational--it's not like I have infalliable taste in games--but I like people to like things I like...such as five-player Santiago.

We cleared our palates with one of Mickey and Sharon's favorite games--Dragon's Gold. This one was new to me.

I'm not the best negotiator. Diplomacy...yeah. Played it once, and I think that'll do me for the rest of my life. Dragon's Gold is, essentially, a game of negotiation.

Basically, everyone commands a small band of warriors, and you have been contracted to rid the kingdom of its dragons--eighteen of them, each of which guards a hoard of precious items. Four are face-up at any given time, and each has a strength value, as does each warrior. On your turn, you place a warrior facing-off against a dragon. When the accumulated warrior points equals or exceeds the dragon's strength, then everyone who has a warrior in that fight has to sit down and agree on how to split up the dragon's hoard. You have one minute. If there is no agreement in a minute, then nobody gets anything. The various things you find in the hoard score variously, and there are some special powers warriors have, and some super-special cards that seem kind of lame that we didn't play with, but that's the gist.

We were unusually docile negotiators, I think. All but the last couple of hoards were split up without undue strain. I imagine that in a more...assertive environment this might not be the case, and hoards might go by the wayside more often than not. Playing Dragon's Gold, or almost any such negotiation game, in that kind of group would make me want to go hide somewhere. Just not my kind of game, y'know? I like the idea of Dragon's Gold, but I'm not sure I'd ever play it very often.

I came in second. I underestimated the value of gold/silver/magic items, the things that score for you no-matter-what. (The other things score only if you have more than anyone else.) I had a few items that went to waste, but otherwise I ran a pretty efficient operation. I enjoyed the game, but...it's not the kind of game where I'd ever look at it on the shelf and think, "Man, I wish I could play some Dragon's Gold right now." Most of my other Euros, I do get that feeling. It's fun, but it's not going into the collection.

Sharon and Mickey had to leave, and I did too pretty soon, but I had time for one more game, a three-player game of For Sale. I thought I was doing pretty well, but in reality I got creamed. That always bugs me--when I do a whole lot worse than I thought I was when the final scores get tallied. Ah well...I bid poorly on a couple of the houses, which is what probably did me in.

A fun game night--I batted .500, albeit with a possible asterisk. Many thanks again to the Markers--particularly for the Key Lime/Cheesecake frozen custard brought in by Gary. Some primo stuff, there.

Coming next: Life on the road returns.

THAT GAMES MAGAZINE CONTEST

The results are in. They say that there were only five people with a perfect slate--I think that includes me, but I haven't received any word yet. Hope I didn't misspell something...

In other "go me" news, a paper of mine has been selected for an upcoming History conference, so I'll have at least one thing on my CV when I apply for PhD programs.

SPELLING BEE

I've been idly following the National Spelling Bee the last couple of days. It was never something I did--I was in GeoBee, though--but the Spelling Bee is one of the great oddball competitions out there. (I also watch hot dog eating contests, bake-offs...almost any crazy thing you can think of.)

Here's a sample round. I almost feel disappointed whenever they spell a word I've used in conversation. This is a good competition for you if you're a budding doctor--lots of medical terminology. (So far, I've found only one disorder I actually have experience with, thank goodness.) Not much historical terminology, although "zouave" came up.

Wall-to-wall liveblogging of the event can be found here.