Bring your own birthday

This Tuesday saw the leatherette fliptop diary of the modern world crammed with three vital appointments: The meaningful vote in the Commons on Brexit, the weekly GNN meeting and Ian's birthday. Ian celebrated his new orbit of the sun by wearing a dapper brown waistcoat and by promising to drink all his beers this evening.

We began as a six. Sam (hosting), Stanley, Martin, Joe, Ian and me. Steve was expected in around fifteen minutes. Our first game (after a brief attempt at a 'conversation') was Bring Your Own Book. This fun game involves everyone taking a book (luckily, Sam's house is full of them) and looking through them to find a phrase that would suit a theme drawn at random from a deck of cards. The winner of the round is the funniest. Like a genteel Cards Against Humanity, basically.

For example, the first criterion was "The Meaning of Life," which was ironic since Joe was using a Douglas Adams book. Martin (Streets of Loredo) said "wisdom came too late," but Ian (Among the Thugs) had "underpants full of dodge marks."

Sam's other son, Joe, joined us halfway through and, using a Charlie Brown book, he found the perfect response for A Name For A Cat: "stupid dog." Steve also came in halfway and did great things with a book about knots. We ended when it seemed like we were ready for something more substantial, with Ian getting a birthday win.

Ian 2
Sam, Andrew, Martin, Joe, Joe, Stanley, Steve 1

With one Joe departing for bed, the other Joe successfully corralled Steve and Sam into a game of Western Legends. Meanwhile, Martin, Ian, Stanley and I chose Blue Lagoon, another Knizia mind melter. The rules could hardly be simpler: place settlers and villages across a map to get resources, link islands and gain territory. But my brain is not built for such games and I scored fewer points in the whole game than Martin did in round one. Stanley, too, seemed to dawdle across the map and was kicking himself at the end when he misremembered that he had built a link to another island when, in fact, he hadn't. Martin's win came despite only placing three villages and Ian's last minute comeback wasn't enough to stop him.

Martin 169
Ian 161
Stanley 105
Andrew 94

Meanwhile in Darkrock, Sam was vocally regretting his career choice as an outlaw having lost three games of poker. Joe was the only law giver in the game, the role I had failed at last time. I seem to remember him heading off to the doctor to see him "about my hand size."

As for us, Stanley set off to bed and we remaining three went to peruse Sam's games wall. After spending a few minutes trying to find Ra, all of us convinced that Sam owned a copy, we chose Azul instead. Back in the kitchen, we were shocked to discover that Sam didn't have a copy of Ra, despite our conviction that he had. Clearly a glitch in the matrix.

Anyway, we sat down to play Azul. I started slow (one point in round one) but got stronger, with Martin predicting a win for me mid game. But either he spent too much time looking at my board, or I spent not enough time looking at Ian's, because he snuck past us both at the end for another birthday victory.

Ian 72
Martin 69
Andrew 65

But perhaps most amazingly was my phone's predictive text correctly guessing Martin's score in Azul.

By now there were signs that Sam's game was picking up, with Steve referring to him as Billy The Shit, after being on the receiving end of a hold up.

After Azul, we played Ticket To Ride New York. A sort of mini TtR that doesn't take up a whole evening. Trouble is, it's a bit too short. I misjudged when the game would end badly, failing on my big route while Martin successfully completed two of his.

Martin 38
Ian 27
Andrew 13

Then we played an odd little game called "Good Little Tricks." It's hard to describe without the game in front of you, but the basic premise is that as tricks are taken the cards played are laid out according to suit. If someone wins a trick that leads to all of the cards of a suit being on the table, then they take those cards. And cards are bad. However if you pick up all of the cards, then you actually score nothing and your opponents are lumbered with 27 points each.

I had little idea what was going on, despite my best efforts. Strangely, I was dealt the trump suit (just two cards, a 1 and a 2) all three times.

While I did badly in round one (a familiar pattern by now) falling into a 0-6-21 last place, I then managed to Shoot The Moon in the next two rounds, so it ended...

Andrew 21
Ian 54
Martin 60

Western legends had ended now. In fact, it had appeared to be in the closing stages for some time with Sam one point off the game ending 15 point mark, but unable to dig out one more legendary point to trigger the final round.

Instead it was Honest Joe who did that and then gained four legendary points visiting the "theatre" to seal a win.

Joe 25
Sam 21
Steve 19

Now we were all together we had a rousing game of Fuji Flush, the only game I have any kind of form in, despite it being pure luck. In the first game we began with 2, 2, 2, 3, 3. With the table poised so delicately, which team would Ian chose?

He chose neither, and put down his big swinging dick: a seven, clearing the table. But Martin also put down a seven, and then Joe too, calling it "a greasy twenty one" referring to how easily it would slip past. And he was right. It clearly set him off on the right foot.

Joe 0 cards left
Sam, Andrew, Steve, Martin 1 card left
Ian 2 cards left

Since it had been a very quick game of Fuji Flush, with people pushing through almost every round, we played again. This time my 50% success rate* was maintained as my final card, a 12, piggy backed onto Martin and Joe's 12s.

Andrew 0
Martin 1
Joe, Sam, Ian, Steve 2

Then Martin and Steve left but the others stayed for one more game to give Ian a chance to finish off the last of the three whisky miniatures he'd been given for his birthday (the three beers had been finished long ago). I was fortified by Sam reminding me about a bottle of Sake I'd left here before Christmas.

We played Love Letter. I did worry that Sam's aging, threadbare, much-loved copy might not have enough red cubes for four players, but it turns out there were just enough.

In round one, Sam won on Highest Card with only a Baron! Then in round two Ian asked if I was the King. I confidently said "no" but then checked out of habit. I did have the King after all.

But Sam could not be stopped after his audacious Baron win.

Sam 3
Joe 1
Ian 0
Andrew 0

And with that Ian and I gratefully accepted a lift from Joe. We were both quite drunk by now, as illustrated by Ian suddenly veering off towards the flower beds as he walked down the garden path. Happy birthday indeed.


* I should probably check this.