Face to Face

Matt Thumser

The difference is personal. Board games and console games are really not all that different, if you look at it. Sure, console games like Halo and Madden may be more immersive; but with a little imagination, board games like Risk and Monopoly can place us in their own world for hours on end. Both types of games follow Jesper Juul’s definition of a game. They both pit us against each other, making a winner and a loser. They both serve to entertain us.

I have no preference when it comes to playing each type of game. I’ve had great experiences with each type, and I’ve had really bad experiences with each type. Who hasn’t felt the adrenaline rush fueled by the cash you earn at the end of a grueling game of Life; and who hasn’t grown frustrated with the tediousness of a game of Monopoly that drags on for hours? It’s the same with console games; the joy of scoring a touchdown to win as time expires in Madden, and the anger of an unbeatable level of Super Mario Bros.

Indeed, console and board games are very similar. The difference between them, however, is personal. The interactions between players are vastly different in the two media of games. Board games are personal; you know all of the players in the game. This isn’t present in console games, where you can just shut off the console if losing. In most cases, your friends won’t let you do that in the middle of a board game.

Sweet, Glorious Australia

by Calvin Patimeteeporn

It had been 3.5 hours of playing and our Risk game was finally coming to a close. My allies had been completely wiped off the board and a previously “neutral” friend sided with my enemy and I was left to defend Asia.

By myself.

I prayed every time I rolled the dice and I  heard my friends’ maniacal laughter grow as my they pushed back my army further and further into Asia. The room was filled with yelling, trash-talking, and laughing at this point and I was loving it, despite the fact that half of my army was slaughtered in less than 4 turns. But soon enough, the sinking feeling set in my stomach as I realized how far my peers have beaten down my army.And then, I saw the solution.

Australia.

Sweet, glorious Australia.

I rushed my army in that direction and succeeded in holding back their armies from there. We reached a stalemate  after another hour of constant fighting and decided to end the constant death that surrounded Australia. While, I did not win the game, I had never had that much fun with a piece of cardboard, plastic figures, and dice. The whole sense of the cliche “warm feelings” as the game progressed (or regressed) was a winning experience in itself.

With console games, while there is still the option of playing with friends (and even some online) it never gives the same feeling. When I played Xbox Live with Halo, I was actually insulted and “face-humped” in the game, which, surprisingly, does not give me the “warm cuddly feeling.” My other experiences with online gaming, including Lord of the Rings: Online resulted in the almost same experience. Being called a “newb” multiple times is not as rewarding as it sounds.

However, this might just be the ravings of an old teenager who lives at the end of the block shaking his cane at youngsters. But I am more inclined toward traditional board games. Sure they don’t have 3D worlds to explore and they don’t have amazing character designs and graphics, but they do have a medium in which my friends and I can project our inner Napoleons.

Even if my Napoleon gets trapped and retreats into Australia.

Risk over Halo anyday

By Aneel Henry

8 cans of Red Bull, 10 cookies, 6 treaties and 2 broken friendships later the game of risk ends in world domination. The winner runs around the table in a sort of victory ritual, hooting in excitement and beating his hands on his chest to clearly display his newly earned alpha male status.

I’m sure that most who have ever played an extended board game (like Risk or Monopoly) have witnessed a natural phenomenon much like the one I just described. The victory against the opponent, the conquering of the planet, and the complete and utter genocide committed upon all who stand in the victors way culminate in an immense rush of accomplishment and ecstasy for the victor. This degree of emotional investment is critical in creating a successful game. It is not the map design, or the quality of the pieces, or the rolling of die that makes board games like Risk fun. It is the intense competition that springs from direct person-to-person relations that make Risk and Monopoly universally appealing.

Unlike board games, console and online games are not direct interactions with other human beings but interpersonal competition reproduced through a medium (the TV or computer screen). Although this competition can be just as intense, it is much harder for a video game to produce the level of personal interaction achieved while playing a board game. Many companies have tried and succeeded in stimulating personalized competition with inventions like Xbox live, and massively multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPG). These games link each unique avatar directly to a person, thereby stimulating intense competition that admittedly has the capacity to equal or surpass that of board games.

Despite attempts at recreating the intimacy of board games, I feel video games have not captured the universal human spirit of competition. Although many love video games, there is a large percentage of the population that finds the medium through which the competition is stimulated (TV, PC, etc) too confusing or not engaging enough to capture their attention. There is no equivalent to a board game. In a video game, it is impossible to fully personalize an opponent to the degree a board game achieves. There is nothing like watching the excitement melt off of your opponents face as your army wipes him off the map. Or just watching a player truly debate over the best strategy to win, concentrating so hard that you can practically see the gears turning in his/her head. Although video games, to some extent, have captured the competitive spirit of a select group of people, they have not been able to emotionally engage the player as board games have successfully done.