G&G XIV: A Good Long Time

It feels like it's been a good long time since we last got together for Gaming & Guinness, and at eleven-and-a-half months, I suppose it has been. Eight of us finally reconvened (for the fourteenth time!) for a weekend dedicated to playing games, drinking beers, staying up too late and laughing a lot

Well, it started out as a weekend. Then one year, I suggested the miniature gamers get together on Thursday so those who didn't have an army could opt out if they wanted, but everyone came anyhow. Then people started showing up on Wednesday evening so we could get an early start on Thursday.

This year, early arrivals by the out-of-towners and favourably oriented work schedules for everyone else had us all on-site at Totty's place by 1:00 Wednesday afternoon, a new record. After a quick lunch, we kicked things off with the upsized, drinking version of Jenga (also known as JenG&Ga).

We moved on to a series of smaller games, including Anomia, Zombie Dice and Timeline.

The next day we played a game of X-Wing Miniatures set on a meticulously recreated Death Star trench. 

Best of all, I got be Luke Skywalker! (That's me in the lead X-Wing.)

Just like in the movie, the timely arrival of the Millennium Falcon enabled the Rebels (Scott, Mike, Pete and I) to deploy a proton torpedo into the fabled exhaust port and destroy the Death Star.

Everyone agreed that Scott outdid himself and that this was the best-looking gaming table we'd ever played on. Most importantly, everyone had a good time while decked out in appropriate t-shirts.

...and in Pete's case, thematic bedding. (And also a Death Star waffle iron!)

At the other end of the spectrum of gaming esthetics, Vintage Miniatures Deathmatch returned that evening for the third time, pitting (mostly) old-timey miniatures against one another in gladiatorial combat! This year we added power-ups tokens to the field which not only kept things moving, but also made them more fatal in a few instances.

Sadly, Brother Cadbury was unable to repeat his victory from the year before, falling to Scott's war-maiden Katilinia, the eventual champion.

After a delicious dinner of Maui ribs grilled up by Jeff, it was time for some asymmetric gaming in The Thing: Infection at Outpost 31. This game is so well done that I can briefly overcome my dislike of social deduction mechanics and just throw myself into the scenarios presented. We played well, defeating the creature handily when we encountered it, but despite reaching the helicopter, we lost the game when we stranded Pete (a hapless human) and took Scott instead, who turned out to have been the second imitation spawned in the game.

I made breakfast the next morning, and afterwards, Earl entertained us with enough Wits & Wagers trivia questions for two whole games, and Scott won both of them handily.

Then it was downtown to GTFO for a competitive escape room experience. Jeff, Pete and both Mikes managed to beat the Scott, Earl, Rob and I into Europa 4836's sole escape pod.

Win or lose, at least we all look good, right? I was very happy with how the shirts I'd ordered turned out.

I didn't take any pictures of our game of Captain Sonar, the brilliant team submarine game that Island Mike introduced us to last year, nor of Rock Band, but it's an interesting contrast as the former requires sobriety and concentration and the other actually discourages it, at least for most of us.

Saturday afternoon was our Battletech game, and I had selected sides with equal tonnages and re-acquired my original maps from the person I had traded them to (cheers, Jay!), but was dissatisfied with the idea of a straight-up slugfest. 

I threw out the barest bones of a scenario to the group, and within a half hour, we had a great one all doped out: diagonal deployment zones, with three objectives spread across the middle of the board. Spending a complete turn on the objective let you claim the equivalent of 70 tons of destroyed enemy 'mech, and the first team to end a turn with 210 tons or more would be the winner.

It was a real back and forth affair, and although Scott, Mike, Rob and I played our House Steiner forces very strategically, the balance shifted when Earl's battered 80-ton Zeus emerged from the river it had submerged in to cool off and blew the head off my 95-ton Banshee with a single shot from a particle projector cannon.

Saturday night means two things: Pete's exquisite green roasted chili with pork and our premier game: Circus Maximus. 

It's an unforgiving game, and although there were no fatalities this year, two three players ended up not finishing. Scott and I whipped Pete's horses one after other when he was in the corner and ended up with an unsurvivable speed of 35, flipping his chariot and stranding his driver. Rob took the same corner too quickly on the final turn and his double sideslip smashed him into the wall. The corner also finished Earl as he attempted to make up ground.

Jeff outpaced everyone again and took the trophy for the fourth time! Totty was in close pursuit (again), and Island Mike got third place despite having the second slowest horses in the game. Well done, gents!

 

Normally Sunday afternoons are just Totty, Pete and I squeezing in one last small game before I pack up all the crap I've brought, but with Rob's flight leaving just before supper, we had time for something a bit more involved. At my request, Totty brought out his Kickstarter edition of GKR: Heavy Hitters (GKR standing for Giant Killer Robots).

This is a brilliant-looking game (pre-painted figures too) with a fantastic set of card-based mechanics and a scoring system that effectively prevents someone from parking their mecha. Despite taking a hammering from Pete's blue beast, my orange Heavy Hitter managed to destroy four buildings and win the game. If only it supported 8 players so we could have it at G&G proper!

We finished just in time for Pete to bring Rob to the airport. 

I continue to be astonished and touched by how committed we have all become to this silly event, and by just how gratifying it feels to commit to camaraderie among such excellent fellows for the better part of a week. By my figuring, G&G XIV ran for about 99 hours, its longest iteration yet. It was truly a good, long time.

And I already can't wait for next year.

Stickin' It to King's Landing - Game of Thrones S8, Reviewed

Please note: This review is primarily a trojan horse for my commentary on fandom, but I will nonetheless attempt to keep it spoiler-free!

Nearly a quarter-century ago, George R.R. Martin published the first book in his "Song of Ice and Fire" series. Originally envisioned as a trilogy, the series is now expected to encompass seven books, of which only five have been published.

Eight years ago, HBO launched a television adaptation of the series, dedicating a ten-episode season to each book, eventually overtaking them (with Martin's blessing), and doing the final book as two shortened seasons. For almost a decade, viewers have followed the ups and (mostly) downs of the Stark family and the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Last night, the televised journey of almost a decade came to an end, and Audrey, Jeff and I got to watch it tonight.

I hope there will be another series as galvanizing and engrossing as Game of Thrones in the future, and I am sure there eventually will be - something less bingeable and worth making an appointment or. Something worth speculating about and, yes - even being enraged by.

Dissatisfaction with last week's episode has spawned a petition with almost over a million signatures demanding the eighth season be remade with "competent writers." but I'm pretty sure television (and more importantly, art) doesn't work that way.

The level of entitlement perceived by fans is approaching dangerously ludicrous levels. Less than 24 hours after Twilight star Robert Pattinson was announced as a potential candidate to replace Ben Affleck as the movie version of Batman, petitions have sprung to life asking that the part be recast. I understand that legacy, multi-generational characters like Batman have a special place in people's hearts, but Jiminy Christmas, the arrogance on display here leaves me gobsmacked.

No one loved it when Michael Keaton was cast as the title role in 1989's Batman, and he did just fine (and made a lot of dough for Warner Bros. to boot). Later movies in that series were flawed for sure, but I am unsure just how much of the blame can be levelled at Val Kilmer and George Clooney. Very few people were impressed when Christian Bale donned the cape and cowl for Batman Begins, but the real outrage came when "pretty boy" Heath Ledger had the unmitigated gall and temerity to play legendary villain the Joker!

Of course, Ledger won tremendous plaudits working off a brilliant script and in addition to making oodles of dollars for WB, he was honoured with a (tragically posthumous) Oscar for his portrayal. I hope Pattinson, an actor who has little draw for me personally but who I know has credibility among many directors I admire, gets an opportunity to prove them all wrong as Bruce Wayne and his menacing alter ego.

Don't misunderstand me -  I am all for people expressing their opinions, and I am glad that the internet allows them to do that, but the sanctimonious manner in which some people try to upbraid creatives who have to work within the constraints of financing, studio notes, availability and scheduling in order to put coherent entertainment in front of our collective noses leaves me absolutely slack-jawed.

You didn't like season eight? By all means, voice your opinion! Write a letter, tell your friends who haven't watched yet not to bother, cancel your subscription to HBO. But I hope you don't think your million signatures is going to change anything - I doubt you will even get an edited version on disc when it comes out - except for where they remove the coffee cups and water bottles, perhaps.

For my part, although I feel the pacing of this season felt terribly rushed, I feel showrunners David Benioff and D.B. Weiss got us where we needed to go, even if they should have taken more time to get there. There were elements that I felt were objectionable, absolutely - a lack of compelling motivation here, a bungled farewell there, and a heel turn that, despite being telegraphed and foreshadowed, still managed to feel unearned. But overall, I think they told the story they set out to tell and presented us with the bittersweet ending that we should have been preparing ourselves for.

What I perceived as flaws could have been handled by a more deft hand in the director's chair, and I will blog about that in a future (spoiler-filled) post. In the meantime though, I'm not saddened by what transpired in the ending so much as I am at reaching the end of an eight-year journey into a richly realized world of knights and dragons, bravery and betrayal, compassionate cynicism and brash idealism.

Martin's story and D&D's adaptation have done a wonderful job of reminding us of the appeal of these timeless stories while simultaneously stripping away much of the romanticism and naivete associated with them. Like all things that end, the finale of Game of Thrones was never going to please everyone, but I found it to be a satisfying conclusion to almost a decade's worth of television.

Should I live so long, hopefully the books will do likewise!

On Birthdays, and Being a Known Quantity

There are very few among us who don't want to be understood, to be recognized, to have our presence acknowledged (if not celebrated) and our absences lamented.

I have been away from work since the start of the month due to some unpleasantness that transpired there and thus was not present for the traditional workplace commemoration of my birthday last week. Cake is good, gifts and cards are wonderful, but the best part is just getting away from the daily grind with the excellent people you share it with and enjoying each other's company for a few moments.

Yesterday afternoon I got a text from a work colleague saying that a parcel had been left on my step for me (they had not wanted to ring the bell due to a bout of sickness that has been lingering with them for over a week). I sent a thank-you text expressing my surprise and collected the package from the front.

I guess they know my tastes pretty well, as it was a magnificent pre-painted model of Thor from the comics (i.e. not Chris Hemsworth). Far more meaningful though was the card signed by not only my teammates but almost a dozen other people from the floor I work on, a number of whom had inquired about me both before and after my departure. It was truly touching.

One of the things I have tried to do in recent weeks is to never lose sight of the fact that I have a lot of people in my corner. When you get down on yourself sometimes, it can be easy to forget both the frequency and degree of affection and respect that others have for us. Being reminded of this from time to time is both a blessing and a balm, and I am grateful.

My family was also tremendously accommodating, and a day that started out tinged with sadness and physical discomfort took several turns for the better.

We went out for dinner at Craft Beer Market, where our early arrival meant there were happy hour specials on top of the 52% discount I received for my birthday. More importantly, Glory I fulfilled our long-standing goal of splitting the legendary 20-Napkin Burger. Dinner was accompanied by three exquisite pints, including the Wizard's Revenge Milkshake IPA from New Level Brewing in Calgary.

When we returned home I was presented with more gifts, including a new Monster Manual and Pickle Rick bookmark for it, as well as a coupon for a snuggie in the fabric of my choice and a copy of 1977's Slapshot on BluRay, but in a VHS-style box. Once again - it is good to be known.

I was only a little apprehensive when I put Slapshot on afterwards - after all, you can never be sure how oldies like this will be taken by the next generation. But I was gratified at how much the girls laughed, and it's a relief to know that references to the Hanson Brothers and Ogie Ogelthorpe have an opportunity to live on a little longer.

Ending the day full of good food and drink, surrounded by loved ones and laughter? It's hard to imagine a better birthday after all.

Top Qualities

Glory and I were at loose ends on a Sunday afternoon when we had the house to ourselves. This doesn't happen too often and we wanted to take advantage of it. She suggested we play a boardgame, and of the three I suggested, she selected Stratego. I dusted off our vintage (1962) edition of the classic game and we had at 'er.

Stratego is a great mix of strategy and luck, and I suggest more of the latter was in play for my victory. I could hear the gears meshing in Glory's cold-addled brain as we played though, and I know many of my stratagems will find no toehold the next time we face off.

As good a game as it is, the tedious setup and attendant overthinking make it a poor candidate for back-to-back play, so instead I dug into the closet and excavated my collection of tops and the stadium for combatting with them.

They are better known as Beyblades now, but when I was a kid, the most intriguing game I ever saw advertised was Battling Tops. Here was a game where something actually happened! There was motion, kineticism, and all the other qualities I had in mind when I purchased them over a decade ago.

I'd love to tell you that I got them with the girls in mind, but the truth is, they were for me and my mates. We unleashed them at G&G V and a handful of times since. I'd even gotten some more as gifts a few Christmases back, but the bigger, flashier models lacked both the performance and appeal of the smaller knockoffs I'd bought at Comex Hobby in West Edmonton Mall back when I worked there.

Glory was happy to see them reappear, and we spent over an hour testing launchers, experimenting with left spin vs. right spin and comparing the various scales of tops as we battled it out in the Heavy Metal Stadium.

It was a lot of fun, and we thought we would shoot some slo-mo video with the iPad for additional giggles. It was actually handy for determining match winners in a couple of photo-finish situations.

Mostly though, we enjoyed the instant replay feature to see how close to the exit some tops came:

...and some of the more dramatic match finishes:

I lack the physics and engineering wherewithal to tell you why some tops fare better than others, or why aggressiveness attacking often trumps endurance but not every time. Regardless of how they work though, I am astonished at how quickly we move to imbue them with human characteristics like stamina, agility, and even courage.

I quickly became attached to a battered blue top that I would have sworn to you had the heart of a champion. Blueboy won more matches than any other single top.

Moreover, he did so despite having a chunk ripped off of him in an early match, demonstrating real heart and astonishing quantities of both chutzpah and temerity for an inanimate object (to hear me tell it, at least).

Can a toy top have character? It's doubtful. But conversely, when Blueboy finally lost a step and succumbed to a (much larger, probably juiced) competitor in a gruelling matchup, his green replacement fared so poorly that he didn't even warrant a name. That didn't stop me from threatening to shitcan every green top in the house if he didn't shape up, though. I recognize such abusive tactics rarely garner the desired results (and did not in this case either) but in truth it was a little bit liberating, knowing that the top's feelings were unlikely to be hurt, and also seeing how amused Glory was by my misbehaviour.

Somewhere in the hazy middle region between an appreciation for our tendency to anthropomorphize everything we possibly can and the simple elation of two carefree people playing with age-inappropriate toys, my youngest and I had a truly enjoyable Sunday afternoon, and put a particularly trying week just a little further behind us.