In the last year I’ve been lucky enough to attend three different board game conventions: The UK Games Expo (read my report here), GridCon, and most recently, AireCon (read my report here). Each was a very different experience, from the commercial craziness of UKGE, through to the play-focused intimacy of GridCon. What they all have in common though, is being surrounded by like-minded people.

My next turn

During a bit of downtime at AireCon, I grabbed some food, and sat at the edge of the Open Gaming area. As I looked around the hall, it dawned on me. A room filled with hundreds of people playing games, all with one thing in common. Nobody there was worrying about ‘real life’ while they were playing. Almost universally, people of all kinds were laughing and talking to new friends, old friends, or planning their next turn.

Anyone who’s ever undertaken any kind of CBT for depression and anxiety knows the value of mindfulness. The idea of only concentrating on the here and now, not worrying or dwelling on the thoughts spiraling in your head. Focusing on your next turn in a board game does exactly that. I watched as scores of people, young and old, had their heads down, normal life forgotten. All that matters in that moment is ‘my next turn’, and that reprieve from your own mind can be priceless. Between planning your turn and talking to others, there’s simply very little time to continue your internal monologue.

We’re very lucky and very privileged to be able to play games, talk about them on the internet, and have the time, money, and possibility of going to a convention. And while I, and a lot of my readers, don’t have to worry about day-to-day survival, modern life is tough. The financial and social burdens we bring upon ourselves are exhausting. Having a few days to yourself at one of these events is a holiday, it’s like leaving the motorway of life for some respite in a service station, before rejoining the rat race.

Birds of a feather

That’s not to say that all of the people at a board game convention are the same – far from it. The people I’ve met and played games with are the most diverse bunch I’ve ever met. As it happens, that’s one of the first big mental health benefits to be taken from attending a convention. To take-in the sheer diversity in the building, and to realise that everyone – regardless of social background, race, belief, gender, or disability – belongs in that space.

I come from a very rural part of the UK. When I was growing up there weren’t many opportunities for people who’d label themselves as geeks, to come together to share a niche interest. It’s something which can feel very isolating. Although it’s easier to find a sense of community with the internet, there’s a lot to be said for actually meeting people in the flesh.

It’s very easy to carry anxiety and worry from your childhood and teenage years in later life. That little voice in your head that says “What if nobody likes me? What if I don’t fit in? What if I panic?” needs very little reinforcement at times. If you do have it within you to attend something, however small, the rewards can have such a huge impact on you. Despite being nervous each time I’ve gone away to a convention, every time I’ve left I’ve felt happy, energised, enthusiastic, and counting the days until the next time I get to see my new friends again.

Too much, too soon

What if this all sounds great, but you just don’t have it in you to attend something at the moment? We’ve just gone through two years of lockdowns, isolation, sickness and death, thanks to Covid-19. It’s no wonder that more and more people are suffering from anxiety and depression. People I’ve known my whole life have been affected for the first time, so its impact cannot be overstated.

Going to a convention for the first time can feel pretty intimidating, especially when you’ve no idea what to expect. I had an anxiety spike when I turned up at UKGE, despite having been to other conventions in the past for martial arts. For some people, that’s a bridge too far, and I’d recommend attending a small, local event first before heading to something like UKGE. That said, AireCon had a fantastic area called Roll Through It which was quiet, away from the crowds, and allowed people to deal with things at their pace.

If that still sounds too much, I understand. If you truly do wish to feel like a part of a community, and want to make those first steps towards meeting people and experiencing the buzz of a games convention, there are a few things you can do to work towards it. Joining an online community is a great idea. Find a content creator you enjoy, and see if they have any community options for you to join.

From personal experience, I can vouch for the people in the Board Game Trading & Chat UK Facebook group, but the place which has really helped me find a community is the Slack server that comes as part of my Patreon subscription for Paul Grogan and his Gaming Rules! channel. Everyone is different, and it’s important to say that my experience might not mirror yours, but it’s a good place to start if you ask me.

Last orders

So in summary, if you’ve taken up this hobby over the last couple of years, and are wondering why anyone would want to travel halfway across the country to sit and play games with strangers for a few days, just give it a chance. The pandemic has taken a lot out of a lot of people, and with the world on the cusp of returning to a new normal, if you feel up to trying, I heartily recommend attending a convention.

Please, feel free to add links to your favourite conventions in the comments, and I’ll edit this post to add them in. As well as the links above, I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t recommend heading along to the Punchboard Discord Server, where you can hang out in a very relaxed environment, with some very wonderful people.

Also, please remember that I’m not a mental health professional. I’m just a nerdy chap who’s had a lifetime of on-off depression and anxiety, difficulty making friends, and this post is based on my personal experiences. If you’re in the UK and would like more help with your mental health, the NHS is a great place to start.

The post Conventional Medicine appeared first on Punchboard.

In this post I’m taking a look at some of the under-appreciated heroes of game nights: the bits and pieces that keep people like me tidy, and help make the most of our precious leisure time. Things which sometimes mean the difference between a game coming off the shelf, or staying there like a wallflower at a dance, watching on while others have all the fun.

In praise of the humble box insert

People love a good box insert. They make the game’s contents look nice, they are incredibly satisfying to put things away at the end of the game, but most importantly they make the game setup much quicker. Does that really matter? Heck yes, it does! Those of you who enjoy a game with a lot of pieces, think about that game for a moment. Think about clearing the table, opening the box, and then looking down at a pile of baggies big enough to get you pulled aside at an airport.

I like heavy Euro games, and the sheer number of different types of tokens and pieces in some of them is genuinely daunting. Anachrony is an outstanding game, but I don’t play it as often as I want to, because opening and organising everything takes me ages. I don’t have much free time, and I’ll end up spending a significant portion of it just setting the game up to play. How ridiculous is that?

At the opposite end of the scale, I don’t mind choosing Euphoria (review here), even with its expansion included, even though it’s got tons of dice and components. The included insert from GameTrayz makes things so easy to find and setup, and then to pack away afterwards. A place for everything, and everything in its place, as the saying goes. What happens when your game isn’t like PARKS, or Jamaica though, and doesn’t come with a custom-made insert?

Do-it-yourself

The first thing you can try is to make an insert for yourself. I’ve done this with different methods, and varying levels of success. Some people love working with foamcore to create inserts, and I had a go at it myself. I bought the knives, board, steel rulers, dress-making pins and enough PVA glue to stick an elephant to the ceiling. I designed and made an insert for Maracaibo, and while it works, there was so much faffing around, and I ended up covered in more glue than my eight-year-old would have. The better option, if you have access to it, is 3D printing.

3D printing is very precise, but it’s pretty slow going. I printed inserts for Nusfjord and Anno 1800, and they took me days each. Literally days of my poor printer whirring its way through the filament. The end results are great though, and Nusfjord now has player boxes which you can lift out and drop on the table, with everything a player needs. Is it worth doing? It depends on your levels of patience and frustration I suppose. The Anno 1800 insert was almost a necessity for me, as sorting and setting up 44 individual piles of tiles, on top of the cards and resources, takes an age. As a result, I’ll certainly play it more than I might have done otherwise.

And there’s the rub. Straight away I’m saying that I’ll play a game I really enjoy more, just because setting it up is now easier, and less time-consuming. That’s just mad.

Off-the-shelf

The industry recognises the desire for a good insert, so several companies have stepped-up and produce insert kits that you can buy and assemble at home. The most famous of these are the Folded Space inserts. The material they’re made out of is very similar to foamcore, but thicker, and precision cut. All you need to assemble them is some PVA glue, and in my case, a child to supervise. Another great option is e-Raptor, who make their inserts from a harder material, but use interlocking pieces and require no glue. They’re more expensive, but really well-made.

If you’ve never used a box insert like one of these before, you might be sceptical. Spending money on a game you’ve already paid for, just to organise it? That’s money that could be better spent on new games, surely? If this sounds like you, and if you’ve ever felt reluctance to play one of your games just because you know how much time and effort it’s going to take before you even play, then I urge you to try one.

So, you’ve got your game all sorted out and easier to setup and pack away, but what else can you do to make your experience better, and make the most of your time?

Hold me closer

How many times has a rule book told you to make piles of tokens or resources next to the board? Piles of cardboard tokens and wooden pieces strewn over what table space is left, after your cardboard monstrosity claims as much as it can. How many times have those piles spread out, mixed together, or made a bid for freedom, over the edge of the table?

Many of you may already use something as a bits holder, but I’ve played games with a lot of people who have never tried it. It’s such a simple thing to do, and you don’t have to spend any money to do it. If you do buy something you can do it on a budget. Some of the most popular options I’ve seen are silicone muffin cases, and the little glass pots that those Gü desserts come in. How good is that? Chocolate pudding, a token holder, and doing your part of the environment by re-using the pots. That’s my excuse anyway.

I have some 3D printed trays which stack together for storage, and have spouts which help with taking pieces, and for tipping pieces into their bags. Plenty of Etsy shops sell these, and if you have access to a 3D printer you can get the files for it for free, here.

It’s maybe a small thing, but once again, it’s something which makes the whole experience better. Nothing falls to the floor, you don’t reach for a brick and pick up wood, and perhaps most importantly, packing the game away is easier. Open a baggy, tip the pot into it, seal it up.

“Come on now Adam, isn’t this a bit over the top? Saving a few seconds putting things in a bag?”. I don’t think so.

Greater than the sum of its parts

If you’re lucky enough to have all the free time you want, maybe these issues don’t affect you. For me, however, all of these small things have a combined effect that’s really valuable. On a normal day I might have a couple of hours free in the evening to play something. I know how long each game takes to play, so when I’m thinking of playing something that’s going to take 90-120 minutes, every minute I claw back from setting up and packing away is precious.

I know that Anno 1800 takes me at least 15 minutes to setup if I have everything in baggies. When I sit down at the end of a long day of work and being dad, that’s demoralising. Now that I’ve printed this amazing insert though, I can go from it being on the shelf, to being ready to play in under five minutes. When I play Terraforming Mars I use my bits trays for the abundance of cubes it comes with, and bagging them up afterwards takes literally seconds. If I go along to games night with my group, that setup and tear-down time can mean the difference between getting to play another small game that night, or not.

In some of these cases we’re talking about small margins, I know, but sometimes they matter. Our leisure time is fiercely fought-for, with TV, streaming services, video games, social media and any number of other hobbies all vying for our attention. I love board games, I’m passionate about the benefits and fun they provide people with, and anything that helps someone choose to play one instead of stagnating in front of the TV, is a good thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we need that downtime too sometimes, but as an advocate for the mental and social benefits a board game delivers, I want to help you make the most of your time around a table. Get organised, and see if it helps you too.

The post Sort Your Life Out appeared first on Punchboard.

When the Covid-19 pandemic hit, life as we know it suffered seismic disruption. Schools, business, retail – everything changed. Anyone who is part of a hobby or club really felt the impact too, as meeting-up with other humans was suddenly a big no-no. What then, for board gamers? People whose hobby revolves around games and interactions with other people, pushing pieces of wood and plastic back-and-forth across a table. Some temporarily hung up their dice towers, not content to make-do. Others flocked to online games, via offerings such as Tabletop Simulator, Board Game Arena, and Tabletopia. But for a lot of people – yours truly included – it steered us in another direction: solo board gaming.

Those three words on their own – “solo board gaming” – seem pretty paradoxical to some. The concept of taking a hobby that relies on people around a table and doing it on your own. How do you even do it? When I’ve told friends that I play these games on my own, their faces speak volumes. They look like I’ve just tried to explain why I think it’s a good idea to add smoked fish to a jam sandwich.

The most common response I heard was “Why not just play a video game?”, and in fairness, it’s a good question. There are thousands of video games out there designed to be played by yourself, so, why bother playing a board game alone?

The security blanket

I’ve had an on-off relationship with depression during my forty-something years. I’m lucky that I can spot the warning signs now, but for a lot of people, the mental health issues that lockdown brought with it were something new to contend with. Board games are really important to a lot of people, and losing that piece of recreation, the social interactions, and the simple joy that a game can give them, was a huge blow. There’s a lot to be said for the comfort that familiarity brings to people. For example, If I’m poorly, I’ll always watch the same three or four films that make me feel comforted. Familiarity makes us feel safe.

The physical interaction with a board game is such a tangible thing. Choosing a box on the shelf, sliding the lid off, and pulling out the baggies and boards. These simple actions can trigger almost Pavlovian responses in our brains. It puts you in that happy place, your worries and anxieties get shunted to the background to make room for wooden meeples on a cardboard landscape. Tackling depression (in my own experience) is about breaking cycles of thought. Playing a familiar game for a couple of hours can offer precious respite from your own brain, and sometimes that’s all you need.

Keeping focus

I should mention that I’m not against playing video games. Far from it, I’ve played games almost daily for the last forty years. But when it comes to playing video games, my attention span is terrible. I’ll play quick-fix games like Rocket League, where I can play for ten minutes and walk away, or longer adventure games that end up in the tens of hours. The problem is there’s always something else on the periphery of my thoughts when I’m at the computer. Another screen showing me something to grab my attention, another of my backlog of hundreds of unplayed games to tempt me, calling me onto the rocks of distraction like digital Sirens.

If I take the time to clear the table, choose a game from my shelves, and set it up, then I’ve made a commitment. I’m invested. For the next couple of hours, the only thing that matters is the game developing in front of me. It has a start, and it has an end, and for some reason there are so few video games that fill that same space for me. Games that I can start and then play to completion in a two-hour timeframe, games where I dictate the speed and flow of events. In those couple of hours, all I think about is my next move, my strategy, how I’m going to get those next few pieces of wood I need to build that house. As I mentioned above, that interruption to your own internal monologue is priceless sometimes.

Let’s get physical

I’m going to use that word again: tangible. There’s something special about the physical components when it comes to playing board games, and it’s not something I can easily explain. There’s a very personal connection that comes from laying the board, the cards, and the components out. It’s a similar story when it comes to actually playing the game. If I want to shuffle a deck of cards in Tabletop Simulator, I hover my pointer over it and press R on my keyboard. Guaranteed random shuffles in a fraction of a second. But picking the cards up and performing those shuffles – it’s engaging and tactile. It might take hundreds of times longer to do, but that doesn’t matter.

I defy anyone to not feel satisfaction when you place cubes into socketed double-layer player boards, or to play with your resource cubes, stack your meeples, or make neat little piles of currency. All of these superfluous actions add nothing to the game, but the experience of playing that game is fundamentally altered. Even drawing the box down off the shelf, to me, adds an amount of excitement and anticipation before I’ve got anywhere near the game. That’s a feeling I could never replicate by sitting at my computer and clicking Start on a game in Steam.

Is it worth it?

All of this gushing over what a wonderful thing it is, to manhandle a board game, is all well and good, but let’s talk about the most important thing. What is it like to play a board game by yourself? It’s not an easy question to answer, because it varies from game to game. The majority of games with a solo option use one of two methods to play. Some challenge you to beat your own best scores, with the mechanisms of the game remaining unchanged. My favourite way to play, however, is against an automa, or AI opponent.

To the uninitiated, the idea of an AI opponent – the equivalent of a CPU player in a video game – seems preposterous in a board game. How can a deck of cards make intelligent decisions? Surely it’s just random chance!? The truth, however, is often an experience which is streamlined and built on probability and simple decision hierarchies. What that means to you and I, is that you can easily mimic the experience of competing against another player, while you’re on you own.

The biggest problem with playing solo, and it’s one that’s insurmountable to some people, is still missing the human interaction. You aren’t laughing and joking, you’re not suspiciously eyeing-up your neighbour, and you’re not freaking-out because someone’s eating a bag of cheese Doritos at the table. But you’re still playing a game you love, or a new game that you’re learning, and you can still engage with like-minded people online and feel like you’re a part of a connected community.

Saving throws

It’s no exaggeration to say that board games have been instrumental in keeping my mental health in check over the last year or so. Although I’m not conscious of it at the time, when I finish playing a game, even a heavy euro game, I suddenly become aware of having not worried for the duration. That break from myself is like a miniature holiday. But playing games solo isn’t just about fighting depression, it’s about having fun, and playing games solo is fun. It’s not for everyone, I understand that, but it’s a far better option than you might imagine.

Video games have their place, and I continue to play them far more than I probably ought to. It’s just that now there’s another option for my recreation. The quiet peace of an evening sitting at a table with the noise of the day gone, and without a screen straining my eyes, is wonderful. Passive entertainment doesn’t fill the same gap for me, so reading a book or watching TV does very little to hold my attention.

Maybe playing solo board games will be a hit for you, and maybe it won’t. Realising it’s a viable option though, and one which more and more people are choosing, is the first step. If you’re looking for ideas of games that you can play by yourself, I’ve tagged up every solo-compatible game I’ve reviewed, and you can browse through them by clicking here.

The post Why Not Just Play a Video Game? appeared first on Punchboard.

Playing Games for Mental Health Benefits

I’ve suffered with depression for a long while now. I don’t have it as bad as a lot of people, but when I get a bad spell, it’s really bad. The way it manifests itself for me is with these spirals. Something, usually something negative, will spiral around and around in my mind. I can’t think about anything else, and the more I think about whatever it is, the worse I feel. For me to feel better when things get that way, I need to break that cycle, but as anyone who’s had the same thing knows, that’s much easier said than done. You can’t focus, and because you’re just not getting that serotonin in the same way any more, you don’t enjoy things the same way. You don’t want to put on some music, or watch a film, or see friends. It’s horrible.

So what’s all that got to do with board games? Well since lockdown began, I’ve been extra mindful of my mental health. I knew the situation could certainly trigger a bad bout if I wasn’t careful, so I took steps. Literally at first, I made sure I got out and walked whenever I could, I started riding my bike again, as I know from experience they help. But what about the rest of the time when I’m inside? I can play video games, sure, but my attention wavers and I lose interest, and by the time my son gets to sleep, I don’t want to sit at a desk using the same computer I’ve been working at for eight hours already that day. So I went back to my board games.

When I initially got into the hobby in 2010-ish, I really got into it. I researched, I bought, and I played. When my son was born eight years ago, my games went onto shelves and stayed there, thanks to work and parental commitments, they just kind of stayed there. When lockdown began I got them back out and started to look at what I could play, with one eye on solo play. My other half isn’t really into games at all, so if I want to play something then 99% of the time it’s by myself. I’ve bolstered my collection with some great solo games in the last five months, and that’s where my opening sentence comes back into focus.

When I play a game, I invest in it. My focus is solely on the game. I’m thinking, planning, following a story, working on a strategy – whatever I’m doing in the game, it’s all I’m thinking about. That’s so important as it gives your brain a break. For that time you’re not drowning in negative thoughts, you’re actually breaking that cycle. Mindfulness gets a lot of press lately, being mentally present in the here and now, and while this isn’t necessarily the same thing, it does go some way towards those ends. All of your concentration is on the few square feet of table in front of you, or even just the cards in your hand, but the point is that your point of focus isn’t internal any more.

I appreciate that this is all very personal, and what’s true for one person (me), isn’t necessarily true for others (you). When I pack a game away I feel refreshed, even after a very thinky game. Sometimes the game even sticks with me afterwards for hours and creeps into my thoughts, which is a welcome interruption. I’m very thankful to this rewarding, inclusive hobby, and by and large the people who share that passion with me. I’ve met some really wonderful people, if only virtually. I’ve had designers reach out and thank me for kind words I’ve written. Most importantly, it’s kept me sane, and made sure my brain gets the break it needs from obsessing over anything and everything a few times a week.

Important Note

If you believe you’re having trouble with your own mental health, please reach out and get some help. Your local GP/doctor can help, and here in the UK there are some great resources, such as this page from the NHS.

The post Games and mental Health appeared first on Punchboard.