Before I prejudice you any further, let me just preface this review by saying Tribbit is Major Fun. Of course, you probably already concluded that, otherwise it wouldn’t have been awarded the Major Fun seal, nor would it have appeared on the Major Fun award website. But, you see, I find myself having to go to such prematurely exuberant lengths because the game might not be what you might think it is should you be looking at back of the tin (yes, not a box – a tin) first.

Ah, you might say to yourself, cute frogs, with minor differences, such as  ”pocket-watch-carrying frogs,” and “cane-holding frogs,” and “jacket-wearing frogs,” and “frogs of a different color.” You’d probably leap, frog-like-ly, to the conclusion that this is one of those games where you race to arrange your frogs into categories of similitude.

You’d be, of course, correct. But only part correct. And it’s the other part, the part that you lept over in your frog-like haste, wherein the majorness of the fun lies.

So, let’s open the tin, shall we?

Ah, 112 frog cards: child-size, happy-looking frog cards. Twenty-five wooden tokens and a cloth wooden token bag. Obviously, a scorekeeping device. And a timer. Interesting, but not yet illuminating. Hmmm. I’m afraid we must read the rules.

O, joy and clarity! Short, easy to read, illustrated, well-organized, easy-to-understand rules.

See? There are eight different frog traits. You, however, need only to find five different traited frogs, and only three examples of each. You get 16 cards, one of which is extra. So, unlike other trait-matching games, there is not one, but several many potentially winning sets. And if you can’t find, for example, three mustached frogs, you might consider looking for three hat-wearing frogs, mustached, or not. Because there are multi-traited frogs, don’t you know.

Ah. Significantly different. And even more significantly fun.

It is a race, of course. The first player to find five sets of similarly-traited frogs calls, naturally, “Tribbit,” and wins two Tribbit tokens. Then the rest of the players have a sand-timer’s worth to be the next Tribbit-caller, and win one Tribbit token. Then there’s the next round. Interestingly, so many are the traits that, instead of exchanging your cards for a whole new hand, you take the five center cards, one from each of your sets, and trade your five with another player. There are more than enough traits to play with the cards already dealt, and, since you only need five Tribbit tokens to become the Tribbit winner, a game rarely lasts longer than three rounds and there are more than enough undealt cards for a second game.

Designed by Hank Atkins, and brought to us by Mindware, Tribbit is a game for two to six players .It’s almost as much fun to play by yourself, or with only two people, as it is to play with six. You probably should be more than seven years old to experience yourself as a truly competitive Tribbiter.

I’ve been wanting to tell you about Havi Brooks ever since I bumbled my way to her blog, Fluent Self. I’m still fathoming her blog, so I really can’t say anything intelligent about her, except that she is unique, deeply playful, and playfully deep. Luckily, she’s written a page about herself.

Filled with good intentions, and thoughtfully making it possible for you to read what she says about herself without having to go to the extremes of clicking on a link, I only partially abashedly copy and paste below:

Trilingual. But silent! On permanent email sabbatical. Obsessed with patterns. Eccentric. Smart-ass.

Things you believe in.

Love. Love is awesome. And it’s inside you which is kind of weird but also really liberating because it’s there whenever you need it.

The generosity of strangers.

The often hard-to-access inner ability to really, truly get to know yourself — with all of your stuck and pain — and like yourself anyway.

Things you don’t believe in.

Mt. Hood.

Things you wish you believed in.

The Flying Spaghetti Monster. Pastafarianism has a certain appeal.

One thing people might not know about you.

I am extremely passionate about beer.

One thing people probably don’t want to know.

I dislike the word “diphthong” with a passion. In fact, even typing it is creeping me out.

One thing no one should know.

My filing system used to be organized by chakras.

How long have you been doing this?

Oh man. March, 2005. In Berlin. This site went live that August.

I started regularly posting my writing here in June 2008 — see the outrageously packed archives.

In 2010, we opened a secret playground in Portland, and now we’ve expanded into a march larger space called Stompopolis which is the MOST MAGICAL PLACE IN THE WORLD, and that’s where I work/play.

I have no idea what you’re talking about most of the time!

Selma is my business partner. She’s a duck.

The Schmoppet is a schmoppet. He’s purple, charming, and as extroverted as his vocabulary is limited, which is to say: very.See the video of him up at the Frolicsome Bar (Facebook).

Hoppy House is my house. It’s extra-hoppy. Like an IPA. Or a trampoline.

Guns N Rollers is the roller derby team that we’ve sponsored for several years.

Because mindfulness and knocking people down is such a winning combination.

I make up a lot of words. See the glossary for a partial list of Havi-isms.

Life philosophy?

1. Napping is good.
2. So are pretty much all forms of quiet, intentional, guilt-free navel-lint-contemplation.
3. Use your powers for good. Live by what you teach. When you can’t, forgive yourself.

You get these colorful tiles. Ninety of them. Each tile is composed of four quarter-circles, each of a different color. Each player takes the same number of tiles – how many tiles depends on how many (2 to 6) players. In a 2-4-player game, for example, each gets 22 tiles.

You, and all the other players, take a tile out of the tile bag (well, first you have to count out the appropriate number of tiles and put them in the bag). Then you all pick two more tiles. So, now you have one tile on the table in front of you and two tiles in your hand. You pick one of your two tiles and put it adjacent to the tile in front of you. Hopefully, in doing so, you’ll make at least half a circle of the same color between the two tiles.

After everyone has played, you again pick another tile from the bag, giving you again the choice of two tiles. And, again, you try to place one of those tiles next to the tiles already in front of you in such a way as to create as many part or whole circles of the same color as possible. And on and on again, until the last tile has been played.

Even though you are always only picking one of the two tiles in your hand, your options increase as more and more tiles are laid on the table. So there’s a lot to think about, the most exacerbating of which is that sometimes you have no choice other than to put the wrong color in a 3/4-completed circle.

When all the tiles are exhausted, you count up all your completed circles. The player with the most, wins. If there’s a tie, you count your 3/4 circles. If there’s still a tie, even your half-circles get counted.

Though it’s a competitive game, no one is really trying to make anyone else lose. It’s all about your trying to maximize your own score. So it’s what you might call gently competitive. Nonetheless, the challenge is deeply absorbing. Luckily, so to speak, luck is most definitely a factor – but still the most observant player has the best chance of winning.

The tiles are beautiful to watch as the patterns gets built. Because everyone has to wait until the last player has made his or her move before picking another tile, players are forced to be tuned to each other as much as they are to their own growing array of tiles. It’s like playing a good game of solitaire, only more interesting, and with more people. And, like a deck of cards, it invites you to create your own variations.

The game takes 15-30 minutes to play. Easy to learn. Easy to teach. A perfect family game for ages 6 and up. Visually inviting. Far easier to read than a deck of cards. Designed by one of our most prolifically Major Fun designers, Susan McKinley Ross. Available from one of our most prolifically Major Fun companies: Mindware.

A giant panda. The Japanese royal gardens.  Fickle weather. A frantic gardener.

These are the elements of Asmodee’s Takenoko. Any of these elements can earn you the points you need to win, but your opponents have their own objectives and those are quite likely to be at odds with your objectives.

As the story goes, the emperor of Japan has been gifted a rare panda by the emperor of China. The creature is ravenous, and its favorite food is bamboo. The gardener’s job is to keep the bamboo growing so that the giant panda will remain happy. Fortunately the bamboo grows fast. Unfortunately the panda is very hungry.

Takenoko is a strategic board game in which the board is created over the course of the game. In order to grow bamboo, players need to place garden plots. These plots must be properly irrigated in order to grow the bamboo. There are also other improvements that can be made to the plots.

There are a lot of pieces to this game. There are objective cards, garden plots, irrigation trenches, improvement tiles, bamboo sections (in three different colors), action chips, and a die for determining the weather. To their credit the game designers took their time to introduce you to the pieces with a very colorful and very helpful book of instructions. Takenoko does take a bit more time to learn and set up than many other Major Fun games, but I know you will find the game worth it.

On your turn you must roll the weather die and take 2 actions. I’ll come back to the die in a moment but the weather gives you something special you can do on your turn. For your 2 actions, you have 5 choices. You must take 2 different actions. Your choices are: place a garden tile (a place you can grow bamboo), take an irrigation ditch to be used when you need it, send the gardener to grow some bamboo on an irrigated garden plot, send the panda to eat a piece of bamboo, AND FINALLY, draw an objective card. The objective cards are how you earn points. If you can get the garden to meet the requirements of your objective, you earn those points. In a four-person match, when someone finishes their seventh objective, there is one more round and then everyone tallies their points.

The weather die gives the player a unique bonus. There are five bonuses and a wild (player’s choice): take a third action, grow one section of bamboo anywhere, move the panda anywhere, take the same action twice (usually you must take 2 different actions), or take an improvement token.

What you choose depends entirely on what your objectives are. The more difficult the objective, the more points it is worth. And many objectives work against each other. There is a lot going on in the game but the design of the instructions and the materials is so meticulous that once you start playing, you won’t need the rules. Each player has a mat on which he or she keeps track of the action. The mat serves as a miniature set of instructions so each player knows what to do next.

I really appreciated the weather die. This is one of the few random elements of the game, but there are no harmful results. You might WANT a third action but any result on the weather die is to your benefit. You aren’t worrying about good luck or bad luck, rather you have to decide how best to use your good fortune.

The game is beautiful. The pieces are colorful and wonderfully detailed. The gardener and the panda are represented by cute figurines while the garden tiles effectively create the illusion of a manicured garden on your table top. Enjoy the short comic strip on the front of the rule book and then appreciate the care taken in describing and illustrating the rules.

Then dive into the strategy of maintaining an emperor’s garden in the presence of a voracious panda.

For 2 – 4 players, ages 13+

Takenoko was designed by Antoine Bauza and © 2011 by Bombyx and Matagot. Provided for our enjoyment by the good folks at Asmodee.

Riff Raff is a game of rigorous self-assessment, strategic cunning, and Kung-Fu-like dexterity. OK, maybe not so rigorous or cunning. And more of the white-belt level, Kung-Fu-wise. But, for a rocking-boat-in-the-water balancing-type game, surprisingly, shall we say, deep.

Stage one: the setting-up

There are two large cardboard “waves” that bend into three sections. These are placed together on to the parts compartment in the box, so as to form the base for the ship. A wooden collar is then placed over the opening where the two wave-pieces meet. Into this, you “place the joint of the ball-bar on the wooden ring in such a way that the boat sinks into the whole and the two retaining rods come to lie in the troughs of the ring.” Thus assuring something like 360-degree rockability. And then on goes the hull, and the mast goes into the hole in the hull, and a small round bar is placed into the bottommost mast-hole upon which is placed the lower yardarm. And, oh, you know, you get a boat, cunningly counterweighted, tantalizingly tippable, with three yardarms, that have numbers on each end.

Each player (2-4) gets a set of 8 different pieces- wooden, of course, as is the boat and all its parts, except for the metal ball counter-weight, and a deck of ten cards, numbered from one, to, let me see, yes, ten.

Stage two: the up-setting

Each player selects one of her cards. Simultaneously, all players reveal their chosen number. The player with the highest number is captain, and starts the game. The player who has the second highest card goes next, etc. Once a card is played, it gets thrown into somewhere retrievable for the next game. Now here’s the thing about the cards. It’s not just about seeing who gets to go when. It’s also about where you have to put a piece of your cargo. Note the numbers on the ship. Note the corresponding number on the card you played. Ten gets to go first. But then again, that means the player who played a ten has to put a piece of the very top yardarm in the “ten” section.

So, when you select your card, you have to anticipate (predict, potentially; guess, actually) what card the other players might also choose. Which, of course, entails considerations about what card they think you’re likely to choose. Hence the whole strategic cunning part. And the Kung-Fu-like hand-steadiness. And, of course, the rigorous self-assessment (I mean, can I actually get the monkey to hang on the 10 side of the yardarm, given how the whole ship is tilting 1o-wardly?).

The game is surprisingly easy to understand. Consistently engaging. Frequently funny. And probably one of the strategically deepest dexterity games we’ve yet encountered. Major, we say, fun.

Designed by Christoph Cantzler, art by Michael Menzel, published by Zoch, available in the U.S. from Lion Rampant Imports

For people who like to explore the mysteries of balance and steadiness of hand,  Hamsterrolle is an ingenious, and, to our knowledge, unique (and, hence, uniquely fun) challenge.

If it reminds you a bit of one of those wheelish things you find in a hamster cage, you have satisfactorily explained the etymology of the game’s name.

The main component of the game is a large, wooden wheel, divided into 12 sections by steps of different length. There are also four sets of 7 wooden pieces, each piece a different color and shape. In addition, there is a cone-shaped piece, used to steady the wheel in preparation for the beginning of the game. Each of the 2-4 players gets one full set.

Once the cone-shaped piece is in postion, the game begins. The first player places any of her pieces into the first, second, or third compartment (separated by steps) after the cone. From then on, players take turns placing their pieces, either in the same compartment in which the last piece was placed, or the compartment after that, or the compartment after that. If a piece is placed in the same compartment, it must be different than all the other pieces in that compartment, and placed so that it is ahead of the last piece placed.

Sooner or later, the wheel rolls. That establishes the “roll” direction, and all subsequent plays must be made so that the wheel, if it rolls, will continue rolling in the same direction. This can also cause a piece or several to fall out of their compartments. Even if they only fall partly out, they are still considered “yours,” so you must add them to your collection, which is not so good for you, especially when you take into account that the first player to use up all her pieces is the winner.

The game is challenging, absorbing, and takes you enough by surprise to catalyze serious laughter. It can be played by almost any age. The rules can be easily changed to accommodate younger children and older adults. It is elegant, attractive, and major fun.

Watch a couple kids playing:

Now watch the amazingness:

Designed by Jacques Zeimet and produced by Zoch games, Hamsterrolle is recommended for 2-4 players ages 7 and older. It is available in the U.S. from Lion Rampant Imports

Cross Boule is a kinder, gentler, sillier, and, some might claim, much more fun version of a very ancient game that comes to us as pétanque (a.k.a. boules and bocce).

Perhaps the most salient distinction is the balls, or, in this case, round bean bags. (If you go Zoch’s official Cross Boule page, you’ll discover 12 different versions of Cross Boules – all the same, except for the patterns – the significance of which will be explicated later.)(You can also go to the official Cross Boule site - also in German.) The bean bagginess of the balls (traditionally made out of metal, stone, wood or other hard substances) is the key to the many wonders of Cross Boule, namely: you can play anywhere (I haven’t tried playing them underwater yet).

Your standard Cross Boule set comes with two sets of three beany boules, and one beany Jack (the smaller ball that serves as a target). This is pretty much exactly what you’ll find in your standard pétanque/boules/bocce set – except for the beaniness.

As for the rationale for purchasing more Cross Boule sets – each set is designed for two players. You’ll most definitely want to include your friends and theirs. And you want to make sure that each player knows which boule is hers

And now to the significant difference, the distinction that makes Cross Boule the major fun that it truly is: the rules.

So, you’re anywhere, and you call that the “starting area.” The youngest player, starting at the starting area, throws the jack (the smaller boule) anywhere else: under the couch, on top of the 8th stair, in the open drawer. Then players take turns, each throwing one of their beany boules, trying to get as close as possible to the jack in a manner most clearly reminiscent of horseshoes. Now, here’s the major part of the fun: the player who throws the jack also decides how the rest of the boules are to be thrown for the round (e.g.: two-handedly, between your legs, backwards, eyes closed, while wearing an oven mit). Then there’s the scoring, which takes intriguing advantage of the beaniness of the Cross Boule, awarding extra points if you can get one boule to rest on top of another, or if you can get it to land on top of the jack, or if you can make a pyramid out of three boules, or if you can get three in line. And before a round starts, you can redefine the playing area to include or exclude any property of your three-dimensional physical environment.

Allow me to illustrate (in German, but you don’t need the translation)

Cross Boule was designed by Mark Calin Caliman and is distributed in the U.S. by Lion Rampant Imports

Allow me to introduce you to a remarkable puzzle called “Bend-It” with the following confessional.

First, to pique your interest.

Bend-It is unique – a puzzle whose pieces, as you might guess, bend. They are hinged. Because they are hinged, you can bend them. Because you can bend them, each of the six pieces becomes a minor multitude of shapes. The pieces and playing board are self-contained. A transparent lid encloses them, along with the instruction booklet (with 60 different puzzles at five different levels), for easy storage and transportation. The entire puzzle is very durable – enough to withstand weeks of deep pondering and smug sharing. Yes, it’s possible to break the puzzle pieces. And, at times, this is something to which you might be sorely tempted. But, unless you really try to break them, they will last at least until you’ve solved all 60 puzzles – if you live that long.

The 12 “starter”-level puzzles are comfortably easy to solve. That’s because there are ample clues. Well, relatively ample. The first three puzzles show you where to put four pieces. The next five only show you three pieces. And in the remaining four puzzles, there’s only one piece to work from. And then come the rest of the puzzles. Cluelessly.

Now for the confessional:

By the time I reached the first of the clueless ones – the so-called “Junior” puzzles – I, myself, was clueless. I mean, I had no idea, at all, how to solve the puzzles. I mean, none. I was lost, overwhelmed, shaken, riddled with self-doubt, utterly defeated. Despondently, I concluded that should a person of my intrepid ilk find the puzzle too difficult to solve, then this puzzle is simply not, sadly, a candidate for a Major Fun award. It goes, concluded I, far too far beyond the pale of fun, let alone majorness. Alas, sighed I, for the world of fun that such a promising puzzle should prove prohibitively problematic.

And then I stumbled across the inventor’s page wherein, with logic and surpassing clarity the properties of each of the six pieces are discoursed upon, and we learn that, for example, there is only one piece that has one white ball, the consequence of which is that should you find a puzzle in which one white ball is surrounded by black balls, you can be sure that it is the one-white-balled piece what did it. And on and clearly on, with illustrations and explications, the amazing and prolific toy and puzzle designer Raf Peeters, without giving the puzzles away or showing you specific solutions, shares the inner properties of each piece. And I read. And I understood. And I got through the entire Junior Level.

Thus, with joy and rejoicement, I hereby conclude that Bend-It is just as Major Fun as you would want a puzzle to be. O, I exclaim, O the joy!

Bend-It, designed by Raf Peeters, made available through the caring auspices of Smart Games, recommended for smarties at least 7-years-old. Major Fun.

Anti-Virus is a logic puzzle from Smart Games – a company whose products we have come to appreciate for their ingenuity, design, quality, and intelligence.

There are 9 different pieces – each a different configuration of cells, each a different color – and two single-cell white pieces that are immobile. The pieces slide, but the board is designed so that the pieces seem to want only to slide diagonally. The objective of each puzzle (there are 60 of them, of five different levels of difficulty) is to slide the virus – the red, two-celled piece – out of the puzzle frame through the corner exit.

Because of the different shapes of the pieces, they can all too easily be moved into positions of immobility where they block each other. Pieces can be moved together, and, at times, must be for the virus to be set free.

Anti-Virus is very well crafted. It is a sensual as well as intellectual experience. Your fingertips delight in the way they fit into the smooth, concave cells. Your eye delights in the different colors. The diagonal moving is unique, and uniquely fascinating in its oft-unanticipated implications.

The accompanying booklet of puzzles is spiral bound, and shows only one puzzle on each page. The solutions are small enough so that you won’t resort to them accidentally, but clear enough so you can follow them to the full extent your self-respect will allow. As in many exceptionally well-designed puzzles of this kind, each puzzle reveals yet another nuance of the properties of the pieces and movement. When the immobile white cells are finally introduced, you cannot help but be amazed at how profoundly they redefine the very design of the board. The puzzle booklet becomes an archetype for the design of a good curriculum, building on success, enticing the player to explore yet more complex and nuanced properties.

The puzzle fits handily into a cloth, zipper bag, which is good, because you will want to take it pretty much everywhere with you. And yes, if need be, it can be played quite commodiously in the bathroom.

Anti-Virus was designed by Oskar van Deventer, recommended for ages 7+, and is made available by Smart Games.

Attraction is the kind of game that we use to help people 14 and over to understand what the Major Fun seal represents. Exactly the kind. Easy to understand. Easy to learn. Easy to adapt. Takes maybe three minutes to play a round. Then maybe an hour, if you really want to play around. With the rules, if you know what I mean. So many ways to play. So many more once you start making up your own. Compelling. Engaging mind and body and everyone you play with. Fun to play by yourself. More fun to play with friends. Pocket-portable.

You get, as advertised, 25 magnets. They are polished and delightfully light reflecting and irregularly shaped magnets, all of which have one side that is slightly narrower. The reason that is important is that when you start the game, each of the magnets are to be stood on that particular, slightly narrower side. This results in greater mobility and tippability – both of which add significantly the much of the bang you will be getting from your buck, so to speak. You position the magnets anywhere on your flat, smooth, tabletop-like playing area. You can play it on other tabletop-like areas, including tablecloth-covered tabletops and floors. We recommend that you try to position the magnets as closely together as you dare. Because it’s fun. In fact, it’s like a whole nother game. Because, see, the magnets really want to smack into each other and as soon as you put one magnet close to another it swivels on it’s little narrow bottom and looks ever so eager.

OK. So you don’t have to put them that close. In fact, you can put them as far away from each other as you want, and you still get a fun game to play.

Speaking of game: you and however many people are playing with you (probably no more than six – unless you happen to have bought more than one set, which turns out to be an even majorer fun idea) each take one magnet from the array. That magnet is your shooter. On your turn, you put your piece on an edge of the playing area and flick or slide it into the magnet congregation, attempting to, shall we say, attract as many magnets to each other as possible. Those are your magnets. You take them. And keep them. And the next player goes, and the next, and when you run out of table magnets, the person with the most wins. And at some point in the game, you might very well discover that instead of attracting any magnets, they all repel each other. This is both Magnets are moody. You may find this moodiness both amusing and depressing, as it greatly reduces your scoring opportunity for that turn. Fear, however, not. Sooner or later, they’ll all stick together, or fall off the playing surface.

The only reason it’s not the kind of game we’d recommend to people of the 13-and-under persuasion is the magnet part. These are strong magnets. And, if you are feeling sufficiently perverse, swallowable. Further, should you be feeling perverse enough to swallow two, they turn out to be lethal.

Attraction was designed by Jeff Glickman and is made available through R&RGames, recommended for people who are old enough not to try to swallow the pieces.

A review from Boardgamegeek follows