July 1, 1998.  Late nights playing games. (#183)

Summer in Jeromeville is hot, sunny, and fairly dry most of the time.  Today the high was only a relatively pleasant 85 degrees, so early in the afternoon, I went for a bike ride.  I rode all around the Coventry Greenbelts in north Jeromeville, then I continued down B Street toward downtown and west on Fifth.  The trees were green and full of leaves this time of year, and after I crossed Highway 117, with open fields on one side of the road, I could smell trees and nature in the air.

I turned north through another greenbelt, west on Darlington Avenue, north on Lakeside, and then back home on Coventry Boulevard.  I put my bike in the backyard and walked inside, soaked with sweat.  I took a shower and got dressed, then walked back to the kitchen to get a glass of water.  It was then that I noticed the blinking light on the telephone answering machine.

“Hey, Greg.  It’s Taylor.  Tonight after The Edge, if you can, we’re gonna hang out at my house and play games.  We came up with a way to play Settlers with more than four players, by combining two boards.  Also, bring your Dog Crap and Vince game.  We’ll play that too.  See you tonight!”

Settlers of Catan, the same game whose name would be shortened by its publisher to Catan in the 2010s, was a strategy board game that was quickly spreading in popularity among my social circles.  The game featured players settling on an island, competing for resources and using the resources to expand their settlements and earn points.  Dog Crap and Vince was a board game that I created recently, based on characters that I created as a teenager.  After I taught myself the basics of HTML two years ago, I created a website with episodes of a Dog Crap and Vince series, in a format that was a hybrid of short stories and comic books.  I had played this game once with this same group of friends.

I did not bother calling Taylor back, since I would be seeing him in less than an hour.  The Edge, the youth group for junior high school students at Jeromeville Covenant Church, met tonight.  The Edge used a different format for weekly meetings during the summer: instead of meeting at the church, we went to the house of someone with a swimming pool, and we held a pool party until it was dark, followed by a short large group Bible lesson.  There were no small group discussions and no corny youth group games, unless people decided they wanted to play a game in the pool.  A number of church families volunteered to host the pool parties.  Growing up, I always thought swimming pools were something that only rich people had.  I wondered if the prevalence of swimming pools among families at my church meant that swimming pools were more common than I thought, especially in the warmer inland climate of Jeromeville compared to the cooler coastal region of Plumdale, or if Jeromeville, outside of the student population, was more affluent than Plumdale.  Probably both.

None of my roommates were home now, and I did not know where they were.  I showered, got dressed in swimming shorts, and headed to the car holding my Bible and a backpack with a towel and dry clothes inside..  I drove north about a mile and a half, to an address unfamiliar to me.  This house belonged to the McLaren family, who had twin boys entering junior high school this year.  I met their boys, James and Stephen, a couple weeks ago on the Mystery Trip.

The McLarens’ house was fairly large, two stories high.  The yard backed up to one of the Greenbelt bike paths, so I had been past their back fence on my bike many times without realizing it.  The bike path followed the northern boundary of the Jeromeville city limits; on the other side was a drainage ditch, currently dry, and farmland beyond that.  I knocked on the door, and a tall, middle-aged man with thinning hair answered.  “Hi,” he said.  “You’re one of the leaders with The Edge, right?”

“Yes,” I replied.  “I’m Greg.”

“Bill McLaren.  Nice to meet you.”  Mr. McLaren shook my hand.  “They’re all out back. The bathroom is over there if you need to change.”

“Thanks,” I said.  “I will afterward.  I came already dressed for swimming.”

I walked across the living room and kitchen into the backyard, where I saw familiar faces.  “Hey, Greg,” said Adam White, the youth pastor.  He was wearing long swimming shorts probably more suited to surfing; he did not appear to have gotten in the pool yet.  Next to him, a portable stereo played this year’s Edge Mix tape, with Christian music from artists including Five Iron Frenzy, Jars of Clay, and the O.C. Supertones.

I got in the pool, keeping my shirt on.  I hated for people to see my hairy chest.  I swam around a bit, just enjoying being wet.  Some kids were hitting a beach ball around, and when it came to me, I hit it back in the direction of other people.  After a while, I got out and changed into the dry clothes that I brought.

I loved being a youth leader, I enjoyed getting to hang out with the kids, but I also enjoyed the bonds that we formed as the youth staff.  And as the students listened to Noah teaching the Bible lesson, I kept thinking about going to Taylor’s house afterward.

I drove straight from the McLarens’ house to the house that Taylor shared with a few other guys, including Adam, and Martin Rhodes, who had been a leader at The Edge but was now working with the high school group.  I put the shoe box containing my Dog Crap and Vince game on the table, next to two opened Settlers of Catan games.  Noah had already arrived, and Brody, Courtney, and Cambria arrived a few minutes after me.  Noah and Taylor were shuffling the tiles of their two Catan games together.

“How many do we have playing?” Noah asked.

“Me, you, Greg, Courtney, Cambria, Brody,” Taylor said.  “That’s six.”

“Me too!” Martin called out from the other room.

“Seven,” Taylor said, putting one set of player pieces back in the box and distributing the other seven.  The game came with red, blue, white, and orange pieces, and Noah had painted his brown, yellow, green, and black, to distinguish them from the others.  I picked up the brown pieces.

“Are any of the rules different?” Cambria asked.

“Just the layout of the board,” Taylor explained.  He dealt the randomly shuffled game tiles into an elongated island with a slightly narrower spot in the middle, almost like a figure 8 shape.  “This was the best layout we could come up with using this number of tiles.”

We rolled to see who would place the first settlement.  Courtney won the roll, which put me fifth by where I was sitting.  Going fifth meant that the best spots on the board would be taken by the time my turn came, but with a bigger board, maybe there would still be a good place left.  When my turn came, as I was thinking about where to put my starting settlement, Adam walked over to our game.  “You guys are just starting?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Noah said.  “It’s probably going to take longer with seven of us playing.”

“You’ll be up all night!”

“I was playing this last week with Noah and Brent Wang, and we really did stay up all night,” Taylor said.

“This game is evil,” Adam joked.  “It makes you stay up all night and not sleep.  I’m going to start pronouncing it ‘Settlers of Satan.’”  I laughed at Adam’s joke.

The game progressed slowly.  Noah jumped out to an early lead as his numbers were frequently rolled.  By the time everyone had taken two turns, I had only drawn two resource cards the entire game, and I was beginning to get frustrated that my numbers were not getting rolled.

“Come on,” I said, annoyed.  “My numbers aren’t getting rolled!  We haven’t had an 8 yet, and I put both of my settlements on 8s.”

“And Noah is getting really lucky with those 5s and 6s,” Cambria observed.

Noah continued spreading out his settlements.  Taylor, working in a more confined area because others placed their settlements near his, concentrated on trading for ore, so that he could build larger cities in a smaller area and soldiers to defend them from the robber.  Noah looked like an early favorite, but Taylor’s strategy allowed him to catch up later.  It seemed obvious that one of those two would win.  Another thing quickly became obvious: a seven-player game of Catan would take a long, long time.

“Anyone have wheat?” Noah asked.  “I can give wood.”

I reached for the wheat card in my hand; I needed wood.  But then I reconsidered and said, “I don’t know if I want to help you win.”

“I don’t usually trade unless it’s something that will directly help me,” Taylor suggested.  “And even then, sometimes it’s better to see if you can get something else out of it.  Like remember a while ago, when Courtney wanted sheep, and I asked for two cards in return.”

“Good idea,” I said.  My experience playing Catan with this group was that everyone often discussed strategy openly after the game, and sometimes even during the game.  I still had a lot to learn.

We went around the board twice more, and finally, Noah won, almost two and a half hours after we started.  “I wonder if there’s any way we could speed the game up?” Martin asked.

“Is it possible for two people to take their turns at the same time?” I asked.

“I’m just not sure how to do that,” Taylor explained.  “Too much to keep track of. Noah and I tried to think of a way to make the game go faster, but we couldn’t.  We’ll just have to make sure we have lots of time whenever we play with this many people.”

“That’s fine.  I have plenty of time tonight.  I don’t have to be up in the morning.”

“Are you enjoying your summer, Greg?” Courtney asked.

“I am.  I’ve just been going to this on Wednesdays, and the Bible study at the De Anza house on Thursdays.  And I heard U-Life is meeting during the summer, so I might try going there next week.”

“U-Life meets during the summer?”

“Yeah, at the Baptist church, not on campus.  Of all the mid-week Christian college groups in Jeromeville, I think it’s the only one that meets during the summer.  And I know a few people there.”

“Let me know how that goes,” Courtney requested.

“I need to go,” Cambria said.  “Courtney? Do you want to come with me or stay here and get a ride home with someone?”

“I’ll go with you,” Courtney answered.  “Bye, everyone!  I’ll see you Sunday?”

“Yeah,” I replied.  Courtney and Cambria finished saying goodbye to everyone, and Martin went to bed a few minutes later, leaving me, Noah, Taylor, and Brody sitting around the table.  “You ready to play Dog Crap and Vince?” Taylor asked.

“Yeah!” I said.  I got the game out and began shuffling cards.  I was hoping that I would not have to spend a lot of time explaining the game, since all three of the others had played before, but they had only played once.  Noah asked for a refresher of the rules, and the others agreed, so I began explaining. I told them about the race to complete the three goals and go back home, and about the Item cards and Encounter cards, and about fighting each other.

“You printed all these rules out, right?” Brody asked.  “I want to make sure you’re not cheating, since, you know, you wrote the game.”

“I don’t cheat,” I said, as I pulled the printed game rules out of the box.  “I want to win fairly.”

“Right.”

“Oh!  Also, whoever suggested last time having little pieces to keep after you complete each goal, so you know what everyone has done, I did that.”  I put the goal pieces in a pile next to the board.

After I finished explaining the game and answering questions, we rolled to see who would take the first turn, and I rolled highest.  “This game is rigged,” Noah said, laughing.

“Am I going to have to deal with this all night?” I asked indignantly.  “My game isn’t rigged!  Besides, being the creator of the game doesn’t really give me much of an advantage.  Part of it depends on what cards are drawn and the dice rolls.”

“We’re just giving you a hard time.”

“I know.”

Despite what I said, I did draw the right cards and make the right rolls, and I jumped out to a quick lead, being the first to complete two of the goals.  As I endured more jokes about the game being fixed, Brody sent my character to Detention.  I played a Get Out Of Detention card on my next turn and continued moving toward the third goal, the train station, so I could ride the train to Fish Boy’s house and be trained as a video game master.

I failed the roll to find Fish Boy.  “I got lost trying to find Fish Boy,” I said.  The rules said that I had to leave and come back, and I did not have enough money to buy another train ticket.  By the time I returned and completed the task, Noah was very close to getting his third goal as well.  Brody put me in Detention a second time and placed a Roadblock in front of Home, the space we all needed to go after completing the goals to win the game.  The Roadblock meant that only Brody could enter Home now.

“How am I supposed to get home?” Noah asked after completing his final goal on his next turn.  “How do you get past a Roadblock?”

“Get a Bomb,” Brody said. “Blow it up.”

“Does anyone want to sell me a Bomb? I’ll give you all my money.  I don’t really need it anymore.”

“I’ll do that,” Taylor said, “if you promise not to put me in Detention or fight me for the rest of the game.”

“Deal.”  Noah gave Taylor all of his game money, and Taylor gave Noah his Bomb card.

“That’s not fair!” I said.  “You can’t form alliances.”

“Do the rules say you can’t?” Taylor asked.

I paused.  The rules did explicitly allow players to buy, sell, and trade items, but they were silent on the issue of alliances.  “I guess not,” I replied.

A little later, Taylor had also completed his third goal, so the three of us were all trying to reach Home.  In order to prolong the excitement of the game, I wrote the rules so that a player needed an exact roll to reach Home and win.  If I was two spaces away from Home and I rolled three on the die, I would need to go three spaces in a different direction instead.  I put a Roadblock next to Home, so that the others would not be able to get in.  A couple turns later, Noah was next to my Roadblock, and Taylor put his own Roadblock on the other side of Noah.

“I’m trapped!” Noah said.  “I don’t have a Bomb!”

“I guess you’re not going to win,” I said.  “You can still roll the die every turn, because you get to draw an Item every time you roll 1.”

“Can I negotiate with the person who controls the Roadblock?  Like, Greg, can I give you a dollar to get past your Roadblock?”

“No,” I said.  “Besides, even if you could, I would want more than that.  You gave all your money to Taylor to buy the other Bomb, and you’ve only gotten one dollar since then.”

After a few more turns, Taylor began to agree with Noah.  “You should make a rule that a player trapped by Roadblocks can use money to get out.  Or maybe just a limit on the number of turns a Roadblock is good for.”

“Or just not allow anyone to place a Roadblock where someone would be trapped,” Noah added.

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, sighing.  “I’ll think about it.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Taylor explained.  “This is how real games are made.  You have to play-test it with other people to find out if there are any issues with the rules, like this.”

“We can’t really change the rules in the middle of the game, though..”

A few turns later, Taylor approached my roadblock from the opposite side of where Noah was.  He blew it up with a bomb, and rolled correctly on his first try.  Taylor had won.

“Good game,” I said.

“Yeah,” Taylor replied.  “Next time we play, we’ll try whatever rule change you like best about the Roadblocks.”

“Sounds good.”

“Probably night tonight, though.  It’s really late.”

“Yeah,” Noah agreed.  “I have to get to bed.”

“I’m probably gonna be up all night anyway,” Brody said.  “I’m up for another game.”

“Maybe next week after The Edge,” Taylor replied.

I yawned, then said, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“No problem,” Taylor said.  “We’ll probably do this again next week.  Bring your game again.”

“I will!”

A few weeks ago, I got the idea for the Dog Crap and Vince board game during a study break, when I was studying for finals.  I mostly just wanted to make a silly game with the characters who had been such a big part of my life over the last few years.  I never really thought about the fact that I would actually play this game with friends.

I did eventually add a rule that players could not place a Roadblock in a way to leave a player trapped.  However, if a player had the bad luck to be forcibly moved, by an Encounter card or by being sent to Detention, and this new position left the player stuck behind a Roadblock before the player moved there, that remained legal.  I discovered that it was possible to use this to one’s advantage, with the right combination of Items; place a Roadblock in front of Detention first, then play the Evidence item, which sends the player to Detention.

During that summer of 1998, Wednesday became the day of the week that I looked forward to the most.  Every Wednesday night started with a pool party for The Edge, then most of the time the leaders would migrate to Taylor’s house and stay up very late playing Settlers of Catan, the Dog Crap and Vince game, or both.  After a few months, it became clear that Catan was the preferred game among these friends, although we still occasionally played Dog Crap and Vince.

It did not take long for our group to begin making house rules and variations for Catan.  Over the next several years, the publishers made numerous expansions to the game, and many of their expansions duplicated our variations, although with rules that were not always identical to ours.  We made a rule for building over water before the Seafarers of Catan expansion was published, for example.  And another expansion included extra pieces and more tiles for a larger board, to be played with five or six players.  This expansion added a rule where players could build, but not trade, between turns.  This solved the major problem with our large group variation: building between turns kept the game shorter, and players did not have to wait as long before doing something.

Summer ended, I started my student teaching program, classes started for those still in school, and The Edge went back to its normal schedule in September.  We still played Catan and other games occasionally, but not every week, and not into the late hours of the night.  Until that happened, though, I had something fun to look forward to every week in the summer of 1998, and to this day Catan is still one of my favorite games.

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