May 23, 2025: The First Game's The Hardest

We recently gathered with some family to play a new game, because that's how we roll. (Literally! See, because there were dice in the game, and . . . <ahem>)

Anyway! It was the first time I'd played the game, and it'd clearly been a while for the others. So, due to a couple of misunderstandings of the rules, I ended up missing out on one of the core scoring functions, and — long story short — I can happily say I came in dead-last place owing to that rules error, not because of any colossal strategic blunders on my part.

I'd found my footing after the game ended, and felt reasonably confident for a rematch . . . but by then we were out of game-playing time. Hopefully I'll retain all that knowledge for a future session of that game.

What I found interesting in thinking about that experience is how often the first time participating ends up feeling so weird and different compared to subsequent plays, after everyone's gotten used to the rules — or, if it's one new player, how that player not knowing basic strategies can throw the entire balance of the experience off. And it seems odd to me because it's a fairly rare form of entertainment that has that phenomenon. It's not like, "Oh, the first time you watch Iron Man the odds are decent you'll spend most of the time staring at the ceiling, but future viewings of the movie will make sense." Or: "Yeah . . . the first time someone drives the S-class Hesportra Sedan, everyone tends to crash into a tree." But for games, it's just sort of common and assumed that the first game or two are going to be a mess.

There aren't any real conclusions or action items here, outside of my stroking my goatee and saying, "That's interesting." Mostly, it gives me an appreciation for games like (say) Munchkin, where even if I don't know what I'm doing for the first few turns, I'm laughing and having a good time.

-- Steven Marsh