One evening last month I sat down to a first session with a game I had been really been looking forward to. My goal: get two turns in. I wasn't planning to play a whole game; I wasn't even planning for two correct turns. I was planning for two turns with a bunch of take-backs and oopsies and lessons learned so I could beat my understanding of the game into shape. That way when I sat down to it the second time, I'd be all ready to go. I love this part of gaming.

It’s a common misconception that playing a lot of games means you are good at them. There are obviously some games that only pay off with experience, where knowing the rules will surely give you an advantage. There are some that you know well enough to have a fighting chance, even if you don’t win all that often. But we also all have “kryptonite” games. Those are the games that we always lose. They might be a constant source of heartbreak, where we always find a wait to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. They might be games where we just cannot wrap our head around how to win. But one thing is for sure: we almost always lose them. We all have that list of games, but here are mine.

"You need to teach that boy how to go on offense."

Before you can fully understand how concerned I was when these words left my wife's lips I have to review something about the nature of twins.  In each pair, one is the good, the other the evil.  The boy my wife was speaking about in the sentence above is the evil.  You never teach an evil twin how to go on offense.

"You need to teach that boy how to go on offense."

Before you can fully understand how concerned I was when these words left my wife's lips I have to review something about the nature of twins.  In each pair, one is the good, the other the evil.  The boy my wife was speaking about in the sentence above is the evil.  You never teach an evil twin how to go on offense.

A couple of months ago I had the pleasure of reviewing A Few Acres of Snow, Martin Wallace’s game of the American colonial wars. In short, I decided it was a deep and demanding game that was worthwhile only if you had the time - and a willing opponent - to devote to working through the strategies properly. Alas, it seemed that some people took my advice only too well and worked through the strategies in such intricate and amazing detail that they found a way, if executed with great precision, to break the game and pretty much guarantee a win for the English.

You know I had a big intro for this article written, about sinking aircraft carriers, finding grails and bagging chicks, but it’s all just a distraction from the real topic.  It's a good one; let’s talk about Leaving Earth.

"I want my team to lose today."

This isn't the kind of thing you expect a coach to say to you when you're shaking his hand over top of home plate.  But Wally wasn't kidding -- he wanted his girls to lose.  In fact he wanted his girls to lose big, and he thought our team had the best shot at doing it.

Way, way back in the mists of time – well, about a year anyway – before there was the term “Ameritrash” I used to call the sorts of games that I like the most “multiplayer conflict games”. Since this is not only a bit of a mouthful, but uninspiring and not terribly meaningful either, it’s no surprise that it didn’t catch on in the way that Ameritrash did as a term. But I still find myself trotting it out from time to time because the games that it’s supposed to refer to are still my favourite games and because the concept of AT and my concept of MCG’s overlap heavily but have significant areas of territory which they share with other game styles.

Sometimes it’s not what you know, but who you know.  This morning, when Tomb hit the table in front of me for perhaps the fifth time, I had an ace in the hole that virtually none of the rest of you will have – Sippi Steve.

May Getaway days don’t exactly leap out of the gate at 6am.  Part of our play space is one of the bedrooms this year (we’re rarely in the same house more than once or twice and this is a new venue this year), so more than a few players are up past midnight.  I turned off the light around 1am and was back in the gaming room with my packet of Pop-Tarts by 8.  The early people often kick off the day with lighter fare and this morning was no exception.  Aquädukt is a game from the time of dirt-cheap Euros, when small publishers created games before they sold them (how quaint!) and often put them on cheap stock for the first printing to see if they would catch fire.  My copy of Aquädukt cost me $1.99, plus shipping years back, and included the cheesiest d20 I’ve ever seen.  Given my Dungeons and Dragons pedigree (30 years at the time I purchased this), that’s saying something.  I played it a bit then gave the copy to a friend. He put it in his church’s collection and another buddy pulled it from there to bring to this event.  The good news is that someone between here and there replaced the d20 in it with a respectable one. One that might even return somewhat fair results.  There was only one way to find out, so we cracked it open.

At times, the May Getaway makes for odd bedfellows.

Greeting ladies and gents, this is the first report from the 2019 May Getaway to Dewey Beach.  Each year 15 buddies and I rent a beach house in the off-season and spend three days and four nights playing games, focusing on the big games.  For today’s installment I’ll review the first of three games I got in on day one, with a brief review of how it played out in our particular session.

On the short list of games that don’t require another review, Space Hulk is near the top.  But on occasion, you stumble into absurdity, and that happened during the May Getaway when my buddy Sam opened his box to find he had left all his Genestealers at home on his workbench for painting.

Big Box.  No, BIG box.  And big play. 

"The game is on.  I'm flat on my belly, inching forward through scrubby brush trying to keep as low as I possibly can.  With yesterday's rain I'm good and dirty.  My weapon's out in front of me and every few feet I'm sighting down it, laying it on its side so that neither it nor I have to rise even an inch above the undergrowth.  Success or failure depends upon surprise; lives are in the balance

Not really.  This is laser-tag at a kid's birthday party.

I write a game review site, like about every other fourth gamer nerd on the planet. So I feel qualified to make unreasonable assumptions about people I haven't met, because I must be an expert - I write a game review site. And one thing I feel compelled to note is that gamers take this gaming crap way too seriously - me included.

Nothing Like a good story for the little ones...

Lil' chtulhu is not a member of Fortress Ameritrash

A quick overview of what it takes to get set up with RetroPie on the Raspberry Pi 3.

When I was first introduced to the albums of the Beatles, my favorite album was The White Album. Since I had only known their hits, my first exposure to the Fab Four’s albums was overwhelming and kind of wonderful. Every song took me to a different place, and those places were always surprising. As I listened to their other albums, I found that pretty much all of their stuff was terrific. Rubber Soul and Revolver were tighter than The White Album. Abbey Road was more polished. Sgt. Pepper was more revolutionary, and A Hard Day’s Night was just punchier and more fun. But after all these years with The Beatles, I keep coming back to the White Album, even though it’s something of a mess.