The Death of Brian

 I (Sam, our de facto blogger Andrew being a late drop-out) arrived at Joe's place a little later than usual to find just three gamers at the table: the host, Ian, and Martin. They were puzzling out hidden codes in Break the Code, a game that broke my mind when I played it. All I can remember at the time is thinking what the fuck do all these numbers mean just as Joe announced he'd cracked it. Martin and Ian had no such qualms, though, and whilst I munched through a sandwich they all won the game at the same time. 

What next? Martin began campaigning to play Brian Boru, the trick-taking game of Irish border control. Despite my emerald heritage, Joe's love of trick-taking and Ian's fascination with borders, nobody really bit. Both Joe and I said we'd be up for playing it again, but it wasn't high on our wishlists. 

"Yeah" Martin sighed. "That's the problem with games" 

He rattled the box seductively one last time, and then put it away. But for how long?

Instead we played Babylonia, reducing Martin's chances of victory from 100% to a more competitive 90 or so. Joe began well, harvesting point-scoring opportunities in a kind of guerrilla-esque approach. Martin and Ian schemed. I attempted to build a connection of tiles all the way across the map, and found my plans regularly harpooned by three dickheads who kept getting in my way.

Or possibly it's more correct to say I sucked big time. As Joe's momentum slackened a little mid-game, it became a fight between Martin and Ian, and Martin snuck his farmers into operation a fraction before Ian could, pushing his narrow lead into a more substantial one. 

Although Ian was scoring plenty for cities, it wasn't enough, and he ended the game before Martin could scalp any points for himself:

Martin 168

Ian 141

Joe 127

Sam 114

Next up was Set & Match: Doubles, as Martin and I took on Ian and Joe.

This was hilarious. The scoring is identical to real tennis, and the court is pretty much the same too. Where the game comes to life is in both the flicking, and the clever way momentum swings during rallies, pushing one side further towards the point if your 'shot' lands in a tricky-to-get-to place: the corners of the court; right by the net and so on. 

Joe and Ian kept getting the yips and hit multiple double-faults. Joe managed to serially flip the tennis ball disc over and send it rolling off court. I was more at home with this game (push something with your finger) than Babylonia (use your brain) and enjoying thwacking the 'ball' diagonally cross-court: Martin and I ran out winning three sets to love.

We then swapped Wimbledon for the Mariana, and crewed up for Mission: Deep Sea. My notes here say

1 Sam fucks up

2 twice

3 we succeed

which is probably as succinct a way of putting it as any. Computing all the possibilities in a round of The Crew is a struggle for me at the best of times, and I was starting to feel tired. I'm glad we managed to succeed in our mission, even though I've no idea what it was.

Joe had insidiously laid out Memoarrr! on the table and we were tempted. I'd forgotten how much fun it is - a simple memory game where whatever the player before you turned over, you must now reveal a card that matches either the animal, or the colour.

We all struggled at times, Martin most of all, and cursed the seeming absence of tortoises. And although Martin won the last two rounds, thanks to the skewy scoring system it didn't do him much good:

Sam 6
Joe 4
Martin 3
Ian 2

It was only just gone ten but I was shattered and had to head home. In my absence, they played Art Robbery (not sure who won) and after Ian left, Joe beat Martin at LLAMA. Until next time!