Qwirkle

Qwirkle is an elegant tile game, easy to learn and understand, visually inviting, and increasingly challenging as the game progresses.

There are 108 thick, wooden tiles - thick enough to stand on end, like dominoes. Each tile is imprinted with one of six shapes in one of six colors. Players take turns, adding to an increasingly complex grid of tiles, the rule being that to place a tile it must be either of the same color or shape as the adjacent tiles. You can place several tiles, as long as they are in one line.

Each player starts out with 6 tiles, and replenishes her hand after each play. The game continues until all 108 tiles have been played.

Your score for the turn depends on the number of tiles in the rows or columns adjacent to the tiles you've just placed. So, if one of your tiles brings the number of tiles in a row to, say, 4, and the number of tiles in a column to, for example, 3, you'd score 7 points for that one tile. If your tile is the sixth in a row or column of tiles of the same shape or color, you'd score twice as many points (12). As more tiles are placed, there are more choices, so the search for the high scoring play becomes more and more complex. The challenge is both visual and logical, clear enough to engage a school-age child, and complex enough to invite serious, adult competition. Most importantly, though it is a competitive game, the competition is gentle and inviting. You win more by your ability to find the best possible placement for your pieces than you do by trying to keep your opponent from scoring.

In fact, so satisfying was it to get a high score in any single turn was that we really didn't need to keep a cumulative score. We could admire each other's genius (and luck), while more or less competing to see if one of our plays could score even higher.

Rukshuk

Rukshuk, a.k.a. "The Game of Rock Balancing," is, as you might infer, a game about balancing rocks. Well, not actual rocks, but cunningly contrived, highly rocklike pieces, in 5 different colors. Highly rocklike - hefty, and irregularly shaped rocklike. There are long, flat white "bridge rocks" (each player gets two of these to be used as required). The collection of building rocks includes smaller white pieces, which only count for one point, but all have somewhat flat, and most accommodating surfaces. Thus one can easily imagine oneself building white rock towers and things. Whilst the blue rocks are only flattish on one side, so the idea of stacking one on top of another appears to be, shall we say, not such a good one. Then there are the green rocks (rated as "difficult"), and the highly irregular, 4-point-scoring red rocks (candidly rated "impossible") and of course the high-scoring, but extremely rare gold rocks. None of which is actually a rock.

Then there are the 25 challenge cards, each depicting rock constructs of various difficulty and geographic significance. The Pinnacle formation, for example, is purportedly found on the Galapagos Islands, whereas the Pigeon Rock configuration is somewhere near the city of Beirut.

Players each draw seven rocks from the rock bag, thereby randomizing the scoring potential and challenge, since you really can't tell what color rock you'll be getting until you actually get it. Got it? A Rukshuk card and the sand timer are then turned over to reveal the challenge for the round and to start the rocky contest. Players can build and rebuild their rock construct, attempting to place whatever higher scoring color rocks they have in their indicated multiple-point positions, or not. Once all the sand has fallen, all construction ceases, and the scores are calculated accordingly.

Rukshuk is a surprisingly well-balanced game, if you excuse the expression. It can be played as a solitaire, or with as many as fivc players. The pieces, the fantasy, the challenge cards all work together to make the game intensely involving, even for the nimble-fingered few, wirh just enough chance and strategic depth to entice the less-than-dexterous many.

Destruct 3

There's something primal about Destruct 3. My wife says it's a boy thing. If it is, it's a primal boy thing. Build. Destroy. Build again.

There are 12 small wooden blocks: three T-shape blocks, four L-shape, four longish rectangles, and one shortish. You can use any two of these for a base, upon which the remain ten are to be built. You assemble your construct somewhere in the center of the designated platform. After you've created your version of a stable structure, the enemy (all right, the other players), take turns trying to destroy it.

The are three destruction mechanisms, which one might call, respectively: the Ramp of Doom, the Pendulum of Destiny, and the Catapult of Catastrophe. Each of these is a large wooden structure, to which a ball-and-cord is attached. Which of these devices you get to use is determined by the roll a die. You take the appointed mechanism, position it in any of the 12 mechanism mounts, and do your best/worst.

The scoring is equally ingenious. You get two points for each block you've knocked over, as long as it rests in the center square of the building platform. You get one point for the blocks that remain on the periphery. And no points for blocks that are knocked completely and entirely off the platform all together. Thus, you must temper your destructive impulse, else you will knock the blocks too far from the high-scoring center of the building platform. And, as builder, you get to be both constructively artful and strategically cunning in devising structures that are prone to wide dispersal upon impact.

Destruct 3 is not a kids' game. Not at it's price. It is a maturely crafted, all-wooden, eco-sensitive, heirloom-type, self-contained, hinge-boxed play tool, made of rubber tree wood, because "rubber-tree wood is a by-product of rubber harvests and is a sustainable resource." You may let your kids play with it, as long as they are clear about who owns what and why.

Froggy Boogie

Froggy Boogie is a beautifully crafted, all-wood, many-pieced, memory/race game. There are 9 frogs that are set up in the middle of the play area (table, floor, bed - any flat surface). Each frog has places for two eyes. There are two different kinds of eyes (small cylinders that fit into the frogs eye-holes): One kind has an image of a baby frog on the bottom. The other doesn't. When setting the game up, players put one of each kind of eye in each frog. The challenge, which turns out to be significant enough even for adults (or perhaps especially for adults), is to remember, for each of the nine frogs, which eye has what. Wooden lily pads are placed around the cluster of frogs - this becomes the race track. Players begin the game by selecting a playing piece (one of six differently colored "baby frogs"). Two wooden dice are thrown. Each of the "adult frogs" (the ones with the eyes) is painted in two different colors. The throw of the dice determine exactly which adult frog gets chosen. The player then selects one of that frog's eyes. If there's not a baby frog on the bottom of the eye, the player gets to jump to the next lily pad and guess again. If there is, it's the next player's turn.

If memory isn't your forté it's reassuring to know that you can always rely on luck (there's a 50/50 chance you'll be right). If you're a kid, or you're interested in challenging your memory, you'll find the game challenging enough to make you want to take it most seriously.

The game is very attractive, to children as well as adults. It's colorful and funny - all those cross-eyed frogs. Yes, it requires extra care to keep track of the many pieces. But, because children will find the game fun to set up, and as challenging as it is attractive, the extra care required becomes an additional attraction - the game is its own special "collection" of bright wooden treasures.

The game is a race. The first player to get her baby frog back to the big lily, wins. For older kids, this is great fun - an incentive, an opportunity to demonstrate and be rewarded for a superior memory. For kids who have trouble dealing with losing (or winning), it might be necessary to change the rules a bit.

Luckily, the game is interesting enough, and flexible enough, to allow players to adapt it to the way they have the most fun playing. Because there is no board, you can arrange the frogs in any way you want. In fact, you can even rearrange the frogs during the game - making it all that much more challenging, and making the game that much more of an invitation to play for the whole family.

My grandkids happened to have a problem with competition. So, we played with only two baby frogs: the "Happy Frog" and the "Sad Frog." One of us would throw the dice, and then all of us would select the eye. We pooled our collective memory. If we guessed correctly, we'd move the Happy frog to the next lily. If we were wrong, the Sad frog would advance. No one "owned" either of the frogs. We were like gods, cheering for the Happy frog when the Happy frog won. Cheering for the Sad frog when she got to move. Sure, sure, we wanted to Happy frog to win. But, in the end, it turned out that the Sad frog won. Which, of course, made her Happy. And us, too.

Balanko

Balanko is such a straightforward invitation to fun that you almost don't need to read the rules. There's a ball on a string. There's another ball that rides a curved track. There are pits of various score values - the center and widest pit being, naturally, both the easiest to get the ball into and of the lowest value. There are sliding scorekeepers to keep track of your achievements.

One player releases the rolling ball. The other player releases the swinging ball, hoping that the swinging ball will hit the rolling ball into a high scoring pit. The only other thing you might want to know, suggested-rule-wise, is that the ball-roller, sitting on the opposite side of the game, can try to catch the ball-swinger's, uh, ball. Which is actually a good idea, given that if she doesn't catch the swinging ball, and the rolling ball is still rolling, her opponent can try to catch it and again take yet another swing.

If nothing else happens, sooner or later the swinging ball is going to hit the rolling ball anyway. On the other hand, it could make the rolling ball go into either the ball-swinger's or the ball-roller's pit. So, if one player doesn't catch it, the other player might consider it strategically sound to grab for the swinging ball as soon as it's in range.

Setting it up is a bit less straightforward, but the instructions are clear, the steps few, and it is easy enough to do (once you rid yourself of certain expectations about how it "should" go together) that you won't mind having to take it apart and put it back together. Though you'll probably want to keep it assembled and ready to play with for-practically-ever.

We've given Balanko the coveted "Major Fun Family Game Award" because it is the kind of game that will be as much fun for kids as it will be for adults and probably even more fun for kids and adults together. For similar reasons, it's also getting a Party Games award, even though only two people can play it at a time. And, if that's not enough to interest you, you should know that it is being seriously considered a Keeper.

Poppo

Poppo is what you might call "educational" and what you might even consider a "reading" game, and what you more than likely would classify as a "competitive" game for "little kids." In all cases, you'd be absolutely correct, and, simultaneously, wrong.

Remember a game called "Trouble?" My guess is that what you remember best about it is the "Pop-o-matic" thingy in the middle of the board - a transparent capsule housing a die, that you'd press down, let go, and watch it pop the die to a new number. And that's what you remember so well because popping the pop-o-matic was probably the most fun part of playing the game. Well, that's what at the heart of Poppo. Only the die is 8-sided instead of 6. It has letters on it instead of numbers. And there are two sets of 4 different die-poppers, each with a different combination of letters.

In addition to the die-poppers of endless delight, you also get a a box of cards with 100 different 3- or 4-letter words (illustrated), and a one-minute sand timer. A card is drawn, the timer turned, and two players (or teams) race to be the first to get their Poppo-poppers to spell the word on the card. And that's just about it. You can play it as a solitaire, you can play it cooperatively, you can play it with kids from 4 on up. You read me right, 4-years-old and up.

I first "tasted" it with a group of junior high school kids in a special education class. We evolved the "cooperative" approach together, because it was more fun. Some of the kids just wanted to keep popping - even after they managed to pop their Poppo-poppers to one of the letters in the word we were trying to spell. Others were frustrated by the time pressure. Others had trouble figuring out what letters were available in which Popper. (Each Popper has a different selection of letters, but here's also a wild card on every Popper- so, even if you have the wrong Popper, you'll eventually be able to spell the word anyway.) So we played it together, using all the Poppers, trying to see how many words we could spell before the timer ran out.

Aside from the multitude of instructional benefits that so clearly qualify this game for parental purchase, the important thing is that it's something kids will want to play again and again. There may be faster ways to teach reading or spelling or word recognition, but I don't think there's a way that is more fun than playing Poppo.

Number Chase

Number Chase is a number-guessing game, involving some serious arithmetic skills (like understanding greater than and less than, odd and even, number range and properties). But you don't have to tell the kids that. The game is so clearly fun, so gently challenging and enticing, that it just doesn't matter to the kids that actual arithmetic skills that are being exercised. Who, besides teachers and parents, cares about all that number comparison and identification and deductive reasoning? The important thing is that the game is actually fun enough to play and play again.

Number Chase is one more Major FUN-award-winning game in Playroom Entertainment's Bright Idea series. Designed by award-winning fun-maker Rienhard Staupe, the game consists of 50 thick cards. I emphasize "thick" because it is a testimony to the wisdom of a good game manufacturer - knowing that cards, in the passion of play, get mangled, creased, and generally yucky. By having the good sense to make the cards thick, we are gifted with a game that will last long enough for the whole family to enjoy.

There are 50 cards, numbered, as one might expect, 1-50. To play the game, the cards are placed on the table, sequentially, in 5 rows of ten. One player (let's call her the "emcee") writes down a "secret number" between, as advertised, 1 and 50 (all right, between 0 and 51, if you insist on literal betweeness). The guessing player or players select any card. If it just happens to be the right number, that player wins the round. If not, the card is turned over. On the other side of the card there's a question about the number the players are trying to guess (e.g. "Is the number less than 42?"). The emcee answers yes or no. Then another number is guessed. Another card turned over. Another question revealed ("Does the number have a "5" in it?"). Etc., etc., until the correct number is finally chosen.

Everybody stays involved in the game, because every answer is relevant, even when it's not your turn. So, everyone is having fun, everyone is thinking, deducing, exercising what he or she knows about number properties. And as the guesses become more and more educated, so do the players.

In other words, if you were trying to help educators understand the nature of a successful learning experience, Number Chase is the very game you'd want them to know about.

PDQ - a game for all reasons

PDQ is a sweet little word game - easy to learn, quick (Pretty Darn Quick) as a matter of fact - a game you can play by yourself or with maybe one, or several or even many other people?

You get a deck of 78 letter cards - nice looking, good stock, big, easy-to-read letter cards. You deal out three at a time, face-up. And then you see who can make a word first, or, in case of a tie, who can come up with a longer word. TLP, for example. Tulip. Sure. Or perhaps Platitude. Platitude. Of course. Longer than Tulip. (Did I mention that you can use the letters backwards or forwards?) (Did I also mention that you can use any number of letters before, between or after the three letters that you draw?) (And, of course, the letters have to be in the same order?)

Designed by Jay Thompson to be played by kids as well as adults (kids use just two cards at a time, word game experts can try playing with four), PDQ is pretty darn close to everything you would want in a word game - 5-30 minutes of engaging, challenging, and frequently laugh-producing fun.

Whoonu

Whoonu? Good game. Good question. As in "who knew." Or, "who knew, out of a choice between goldfish, sand castles, climbing trees and fried chicken, you'd like climbing trees the best. Sure, sure, those people who don't know you from Adam wouldn't know such a thing. But even me, your best friend?"

You get 300 cards (a significant amount, but one can't help wonder if there are even more cards waiting to be expanded thereunto), six stacks of six chips, each stack worth one more point, and a small envelope in case you want to be extra certain that no one can see who thought what about you. So, on this turn, you're the one. Everybody else gets four cards. And sure, given that there are only four out of 300 cards, it's just as likely that there'll be something or nothing that you'll really like amongst the four. You remove the cards from the envelope of secrecy, contemplate them for a bit, and then place them, face-up on the table, in order of what you deem to be least to most favorite. Players then claim their cards, and you reward them with the corresponding chip - the highest scoring chip going to your favorite.

The game is just short enough to keep it light, just long enough to keep it involving. The game mechanic of the chips (when the chips are all used up, the round is over) makes the game that much easier to play.

And that's pretty much that. Simple, elegant, just enough luck to keep you from taking anything seriously, just enough to make you want to know as much about everybody as you can. For sure, you'll be learning a lot about each other. For also sure, you'll be laughing a lot, surprised a lot, feeling somehow closer to each other, having had just enough fun so that you don't really care who actually won - because just getting to play Whoonu together is already very much like winning.

Thanks to Kevin and delightful daughter Kelsey Eikenberry for introducing me to Whoonu. Feel free to thank me for introducing it to you.

Cosmic Cows

Cosmic Cows - you gotta love them cows. Tiny little, doll-like, plastic cows. All ten of them.

And then there's the game. You know Yahtzee? OK. Think of it as Yahtzee with cows. And you're playing a Yahtzee kind of tug-of-war with your opponent, trying to get maybe all 5 dice the same so you can super beam the middle cow, as it were, all the way to your winning zone. Kinda like getting a Yahtzee in, uh, Yahtzee. Or maybe a full-house so you can move one cow three spaces closer to you and the other, two. Before, of course, your opponent, no doubt, pulls them back. Ten different cows to shoot for. Five different dice. The number of spaces a cow gets to move depends on how many dice show that number. Oh, and you get three rolls, like as in, well, Yahtzee.

But it's not Yahtzee. It's Cosmic Cows, and darn if those little cows and that dicey equivalent of tug-of-warring them back and forth across the board doesn't make it feel like something really different than Yahtzee. Not like a dice game at all. But a board game. And a sweet, light, semi-strategic board game it is. One that has very cute little plastic cows and is really easy to learn how to play - especially if you know how to play games like Yahtzee.

Chuckers

The people who've developed Chuckers like to call it a "family tossing game."

By "tossing game" they mean a game that involves, well, tossing things, as does, for example, horseshoes, and a variety of bean bag and target games, and of course washer toss, a game called, strangely enough, "cornhole," and most relevantly perhaps that quoits game where you throw rings around pegs.

So, in a way, if you know any one of these games, you'll know how to play Chuckers. In another way, because it combines different aspects of traditional games to result in a completely different, and, arguably, a far more majorly fun game - because it's a family game.

By "family" they mean a game that can be played by just about anybody - especially if you're kinda loose about the rules. Which you can be, easily. Because the game is almost self-explanatory. Because the game is so well made.

And because the game is as much luck as it is skill. Very interesting - how combining luck and skill, in just the right manner, so that you really half believe that you can master the thing, learn the right control, the precision positioning of finger and ring and foot and eye, while at the same time, you half know that it's really luck, not skill - sheer luck that your ring thing landed around the farthest peg or into the farthest target or wound up leaning on a peg, giving you exactly 21 points! Just enough luck so that anyone, regardless of skill, can win. Even you.

The rings you toss are made of rubber and steel. They've got, what you'd call, "heft." The things you toss them into are, however, way heftier. Thick, sturdy, and yes, what you could only call "industrial strength" plastic. They are connected by a rope which is exactly as long as the recommended distance between the two targets. It's a game you can leave out for a while, at a family party, in a playground, a park, a classroom...

Blokus Trigon

Blokus Trigon is a hexagonal version of the Major Fun awarded strategy game, Blokus, which you can now play online.

What's the difference between the hexagonal Trigon and the square Blokus? Well, there is an extra piece (22 vs. 21) in Trigon, and the shapes, though similar in variety to pentominoes, are built of triangles as opposed to squares.

But the rules are basically the same. And the play is basically the same. And both games have variations for 1-4 players (yes, solitaire versions, of significantly enticing challenge, I might add).

I can only think of one significant difference - a purely visual one, which, my friend, is more than significant enough. Since so much of playing Blokus depends on the ability to perceive shapes, changing from a square to a triangular unit makes all the difference. Even for a Blokus master, Blokus Trigon is a whole new game.

Luck of the Draw

Luck of the Draw is described as "a game for the artistically challenged." And I am happy to tell you that this turns out to be a remarkably accurate description of the very people who will have the most fun playing it: the people who don't like games that make them draw.

Which is exactly what Luck of the Draw does. It makes you draw. Things like: a monkey or a space shuttle or a bad hair day; a piranha, a used car or a dream date (there are three things to draw on each card, see, and the roll of the die tells you which one).

But the part of the game that makes the drawing actually fun and the fun actually Major, comes from another deck of cards, called "categories." Categories like: "most over the top," "most dramatic," "stands out like a sore thumb."

For it turns out that these cards, these "category" cards, serve as the criteria by which the drawings are judged, don't you know. So, pretty much despite my assiduous efforts at a 45-second 3-D rendering of the Eiffel Tower in perspective with enticing hints of a chiaroscoro-like Parisian dawn, if the category turns out to be "Best Example of Minimalism," I have no myopic critics to rail against, and nothing to show for my outstanding efforts but unrequited artistic angst. Whilst you, who only managed to draw a large, narrow, and somewhat crooked "A," bask in the applause of your peers.

And for those players who have professional artistic aspirations, Luck of the Draw is a preternaturally poignant experience, capturing, with unavoidable clarity, the famously fickle fortunes of those who stake their livelihood on the currentmost definitions of "good art."

Combo King

Combo King is, from time to time, a game that makes you laugh. Sadly, what you are laughing at is someone else's failure.

A failure of very little significance in the scheme of things, mind you. Which, I believe, is precisely what makes this game as fun as it is.

You have these dice. A significant number, actually. Eight, to be precise. And you have these cards. And on these cards are somewhat Yahtzee-like tasks. A remarkable array of significantly different Yahtzee-like tasks. Like "Use three dice and up to three rolls to get a multiple of five." And if you succeed in this task as described on a card that was in your hand and is now on the table, you get to get rid of the card, and you get chips. You get more chips, wouldn't you know, depending on the odds, you see, against your success. The first player who is out of cards wins.

Amazing how different some of the cards are from each other, and how compelling it is to try to figure out the odds. Similarly intriguing is the fact that the chips you win can be used, don't you see, to purchase things like, say, another roll, or perhaps get another entire turn, or make one of your opponents pickup another card or trade a card with you or, well, you see, here you get to experience, in all its fullness, the "screw" if you'll excuse the expression, "you effect." Again, the oppressed oppress the oppress giving themselves totally over to luck and vindication. It's great fun.

Giza

You get this board, see, with a map showing the location of three pyramids and the Sphinx. And all these easily punch-out-able (I mean, so easily punch-outable that it makes the punch-out ritual itself a delight of great sheerness), thick, cardboard tiles. You each get four. At a time. Some of the tiles aren't so good. Some of the tiles are explosive. Some are worth many more points. Some many less. And you try to build up your entire city, as it were, one card at a time. And perhaps the most shall we say "fascinating" aspect of this game is that, at every turn, you have the choice of of using one of your tiles to do something good for yourself or bad to any of the perhaps 5 other players who also have the choice, on their turn, to use their tiles do something good for themselves, or bad to you. While at the same time, you win just about entirely by the luck of the shall we say "draw?."

It is at least cosmic in its implications, and deeply revelatory of the human condition.

Giza as serious gamers might say, is a "filler." Relatively easy to learn (depending on who's doing the teaching) and fundamentally what one might call a "light-hearted" game. In fact, I'm going to call it that:

"Giza, the light-hearted game of mutual betrayal." - Major Fun, Himself

Tumblin-Dice

Think of perhaps shuffleboard with dice. Think, for example, of a shuffleboard that is on five levels, with, where there were once pucks to slide, dice to, well, slide perhaps or flick or shove. A shuffleboard looking pretty much exactly like this.

Think further of the role, or roll, of luck - how the dice, even though you try to slide them everso carefully, tend to change faces when they descend a level. There's an intimation of the possibility that one could control all of this, making the die land 6-up even by the time it reaches the X4 level after having knocked all the opponents' dice to off-table oblivion. On the other hand, there's an unavoidable element of luck which makes a 7-year-old often as successful as a 57-year-old. Think of this, and you'll understand, almost immediately, why Tumblin' Dice has received a Major Fun Family Game award.

If you know shuffleboard, you'll know how to play Tumblin' Dice. When I introduced the game at the Tasting, I asked my fellow Tasters to play the game without looking at the rules. With almost no discussion, they played almost exactly the way the designer had intended them to. Because the game was so easy to figure out, it is exceptionally welcome in a variety of settings, especially recreation centers, classrooms and my house.

Speaking of classrooms, the game requires enough arithmetical calculations to make it actually useful in almost any elementary school setting. When a die lands in special scoring sections of the board, the face value of the die is multiplied by a given factor. So, in figuring out a total score players exercise both additional and multiplication, and, one might argue, even algebraic skills.

But don't let its educational implications fool you. Tumblin-Dice is an invitation to minutes or hours of play, for kids, for adults, for the whole darn community. Did I mention adults? The kind of adults who might be interested in playing, um, professionally?

It's made as well as it plays - a big, polished, two-piece all wood, table-worthy game that you might never put away. Ever.

Space Faces

"Space Faces" is what you call a game that includes 120 different (that is correct, different, as in no two alike) alien-like heads, printed, in full color, in six concentric rings on a large game board - a board full of Space Faces.

If you happen to look at the faces, eyes, mouths and noses of the 120 different Space Faces, you just might notice that there are 5 different colors of each. So, if you happen to be looking for, say, a Space Face with a yellow face, blue eyes, purple mouth and red nose, you'll find one, and only one.

Which one you're supposed to find is determined by the "Alien Identification Device" - a plastic saucer with a transparent dome, 5 marbles (each of a different color), and a concave surface for the marbles to roll around on, and 4 holes, one for each facial feature. So, you shake the saucer, and the marbles find their holish destinies. One of the holes is twice as deep as it should be, so that the first marble that falls into it is covered by the second. Thus, 5 different colors (marbles), 4 different attributes (holes). It's such an elegant device, and works so efficiently, and it's so fun to play with, that it, alone, is almost enough to make the game a strong candidate for Major Funhood.

Space Faces is a family game for 2-4 players. The challenge (matching, visual discrimination, speed) is enticing and complex enough to interest an adult, and yet well within the mental capacities of a kindergartener.

So now we do in fact have a game that is Major FUN award-worthy. Easy enough for a 4-year-old to understand, complex enough for an adult to enjoy. This is a major achievement in game design.

The game also includes elaborate, toy-like scorekeeping devices, that actually do make the process of keeping score easier. I, on the other hand, prefer not to keep score. It might have something to do with how embarrassed it might make me to reveal how visually inept I am. On the other hand, the game is so much fun that you don't really have to keep score at all. All the more Major the Fun, I say. Especially when you're playing with kids who don't really understand what winning is for or why you should be happy that you made the game end.

Sitting Ducks Gallery

Sitting Ducks Gallery - it's like a carnival game. You know, the one where you shoot ducks. Plastic ducks. Floating in a row. Very much like that. Except there's no gun. And the ducks are printed on cards. And they don't move unless you move them yourself. Which, depending on what card you pick, you sometimes get to do. Other than those minor changes, it's really exactly like a shooting at those floating ducks in a carnival game. Except you're shooting at each other's ducks. And they're not exactly floating.

Playroom Entertainment's "Sitting Ducks Gallery" is at least as fun as the "real thing," and a lot funnier. A "quacky card game" by Keith Meyers, Sitting Ducks Gallery features two sets of cards, a set of 6 targets, and a folding board (the gallery). One set of cards (the deck with the yellow back) is full of ducks (six different colors - one for each player) and water (drawings thereof). The other deck (red-backed) is used to target and shoot and move the ducks, and to, well, duck, so to speak. Targeting is separate from shooting, naturally, which adds a definite strategic tang to the tension.

The game (for 3-6 players, ages 10 and older, with 20-30 minutes to devote to something significantly fun) is humorously illustrated and well-made. We loved the look and feel of the cards and were taken by the cleverness of the simulated shooting gallery. Each player selects a duck color. There are six ducks of each color. The remaining ducks are removed from play. There are 41 cards in the Duck Deck. The other 5 cards are water. The Duck Deck (I love saying that) is shuffled, stacked, and placed on the right side of the shooting gallery board. The top six cards from the DD are then placed on the board, one in each space. There are 52 cards in the Action Deck. Actions include things like: shoot and misfire, double barrel (targeting two adjacent ducks), bump left and right (moving the target marker), various cards that allow you to move the ducks, and two defensive cards: "duck and cover" and "bottoms up." Each player draws a hand of 3 cards. As the game progresses (depending on the action cards played), the ducks move off the board and back into the bottom of the deck - very much like the circulating ducks in a shooting gallery.

It's most definitely a competitive game. Basically, you're trying to shoot everyone else's ducks, hoping, in the mean time, to duck everyone else's shots. One of the things we appreciated most about the game was that even if all your ducks get shot, you still get to stay in the game, shooting merrily away at your opponents until only one player has any ducks left.

Despite all the different kinds of Action Cards, game play continues to be elegant, enjoyable, and essentially ducky. It is easy to learn, and remains fun to the very end. Major FUN.

Castle Keep - a Keeper

Castle Keep is a tile placement game of luck, strategy and significant fun, for 2 to 4 players, ages 8 and up.

There are 90 cardboard tiles (thick, colorful). There are three different kinds of tiles (corner pieces called "towers"), side pieces ("walls"), and central pieces ("keeps"). There are three different shapes of corner and side pieces (straight, zigzag and curvy), and three different colors. You start with any four of them. Your goal: build a complete castle of 9 tiles, with all the outside, adjacent tiles of the same color or shape, and a "keep" whose color matches any tile in the castle. Your other goal: destroy your opponent's castle. Accomplish either, and you win the game.

OK, so destroying an opponent's castle is a little harder than building your own. Well, it should be. You have to have a wall or corner tile that exactly matches (color and shape), and two Keep tiles of the same color as your opponent's Keep.

You might want to be careful about building a castle whose walls are both the same color and shape as their towers. Granted, it's a lot prettier. But there's a price for beauty: if one piece gets attacked, and adjacent pieces are the same color and shape, they are also, well, shall we say "obliterated?"

The two-player version is just different enough (you only build one castle, and try to be the player to complete it) to make it, well, different - different enough to make you have to find a different strategy in order to win. Which makes it like having two different games. And then there's a solitaire version. And then there are variations.

Designed by Richard D. Reece, Castle Keep has just enough strategic elements to entice the serious game player, just enough luck to keep everyone, adults and kids, from getting too serious to know when they're having fun, and is just long enough (around 20 minutes) to keep people deeply and happily engaged.

A definite keeper of Major FUN proportions.

A claimer (I was going to day "disclaimer," but it seemed too negative): rumors have it that Gamewright, the manufacturer of this certifiably Major FUN Award-Winning game, has contracted with Major FUN, him- (and my-) self, to produce a new card game actually designed by the aforementioned. Though these rumors are rumored to be true, this exceptionally good news for all fun kind has in no way impacted the impartiality and integrity of this reviewer. Castle Keep is a game worth keeping, no matter who manufactures it. And that's the troof.

Maask

Maask is a lovely game - easy to learn and understand, easy to play, and, most remarkably, as the game continues, it gets even more interesting.

It's a well-made, wooden game, of the quality we've come to expect from Blue Orange Games. There are 12 wooden pegs that come in 6 different colors. These "jewels" are hidden in 12 wooden cylinders, all of the same color, and placed around a board that looks like a crown. A pair of six-sided dice determine which colors the player is trying to find.

At first, it seems like a simple memory game. If you can remember which color is where, chances are you'll be able to find the colors you roll. Then it gets a little more complex. Once a color is correctly identified, the peg and cylinder become the temporary property of the player who guessed it, who then arranges her prizes in a line in front of her. If you can remember which colors she has where, then you have a better chance of winning when it is your turn, because you can take anyone's "jewels." Of course, this means you have to forget where the colors were originally.

As the game continues, and "jewels" change hands and places, the challenge increases. This goes on until the last jewel is taken from the playing board crown. The rules even encourage the players to help each other, keeping in mind that it is always a strategic decision whom to help and why.

Having two dice to play is an act of compassion on the designer's part, because, with two colors, there's always the chance that you might know where the next one is. If you know where both colors are, you, most deservedly, get another turn.

Maask is a genuine family-worthy game, of interest to anyone who has a memory, fun for anyone who likes to play.

Scoop's Surprises

Every now and then I come across a game so elegant, so simple, so well-designed and made, that I am reminded why I started this whole Major FUN Awards program. Scoop's Surprises is just that kind of game.

Though it will remind you of the "old shell game," it reminds you just enough to make the game easier to learn. Once you start playing, however, you'll rapidly discover that, compared to Scoop's Surprises, the old shell game is mere child's play.

There are four wooden "ice cream cones." Each of these houses three pegs. There are four sets of three different color pegs - vanilla, chocolate, strawberry and mint. The person playing Scoop first moves the cones around, exactly as in the shell game of yore. Depending on the age of the players, Scoop uses three or four (or maybe only two) of the wooden cones, and makes maybe only three or four or maybe five or more switches. Then, and here's where the game gets truly boggling, then Scoop tells you which flavor you have to find.

Having to keep track of not just one, but as many as four different "flavors," the mind basically melts. It can be extremely challenging. Or, with some loving simplification, easy enough for a five-year-old.

Scoop's Surprises is surprisingly easy to learn and even more surprisingly fun to play - for the entire family. Did I tell you Scoop gets to wear a special ice cream hat? And how that hat adds just the right sprinkle of humor to a remarkably well-made, well-conceived, and enduringly entertaining game?

Knock-Out

Knock Out is the second game from the Muggins people to get a Major Fun award. Again, it's made for durability and ease of use - a wooden board, marbles, plastic trays for holding the marbles - and elegantly conceived. And yes, like Muggins, the first "educational game" to receive a Major Fun award, it's value, at least for adults, lies in the learning opportunities the game provides. And, even more importantly, it's fun.

Numbers, from 1-18, are spaced clockwise around the board. A hole above and below each number can be filled in by marbles. Throwing three dice, the object is to use the break up the combined number to capture as many of the numbers as possible. A number can only be captured when both holes are occupied by the same color marble. As you play the game, you get a vivid lesson in probability. The lower numbers are always the first to go - and the most hotly contested. It's a remarkable opportunity to be explore the machinery and mystery of math.

Variations allow for more sophisticated play. There's a "Place Value" level in which the dice can be arranged so the first die represents tens, the second units and the third can be added or subtracted from the total, which is then broken down to its components. For example, a 6, 5 and 3 are rolled. The 6 and 5 become 65. The 3 can be added or subtracted to make 62 or 68. 68 can then be broken down to a 1, 2, 4, 8, 9, 12, 15 and 17.

Above all, it's fun enough to want to play again and again, especially for elementary school children. Major Fun. For kids.

Easy Come, Easy Go, is easy fun

Easy Come, Easy Go is a dice game that starts out as fun, and keeps on being fun until the very end. It's easy to understand, easy to play, and takes maybe an easy 5-10 minutes for a round. And it's easily one of the best dice games on the market.

It'll remind you of Yahtzee, but you'll be wrong. There are 4 dice, and yes, you try to roll them so that they get to a certain total or so they're two of a kind or all of a kind, in a most Yahtzee-like manner. Except that there are only 4 dice. And the dice are numbered from 0 to 5 instead of 1-6. And once you choose not to re-roll a die, you can't roll it again on the next turn. But that's not really what makes this little dice game so much fun.

It's the "prizes" (9 of them, printed on thick card stock). Each prize describes a different dice combination (like "7 exactly" or "3 of a kind, all dice odd".) Your goal is to get three of those prizes, and keep them until it is your turn again. Of course, all prizes remain in play, even though you've staked your claim to one or several. And therein lies the Easy Go, and the deliciously painful fun of watching someone else take one of your cards. So you really never know who wins until the very last moment. And because it's so easy to understand, it's Major FUN, especially for families.

Nice dice cup, too.

Chairs

Chairs is probably one of the most challenging and playworthy dexterity games I've encountered. And I've done a lot of encountering!

As you can see from the illustration, the goal is to stack as many chairs as you can. After several hours of play, our highest stack to date is 7. And that's out of 24 chairs!

The directions recommend two different ways to play - in one, you just take turns and lose points when you make the stack fall, in the other, you distribute the chairs equally and then take turns. The second choice proves the more funworthy. If you make the chairs fall, you add them all to your pile. The first player with no chairs wins. This way, you don't have to do any score keeping - your progress (or regress), being self-evident. You can also pre-determine how long you want to play - depending on how many chairs each player has in the beginning of the game.

Of the several fun-provoking features of Chairs, one of the most appreciated was that all chairs are not alike. There are 8 different styles. So far, my expertise has not increased sufficiently for me to tell you the subtle differences between styles and how they influence their stackability. But I can tell you that it makes the set as interesting to a two-year old as to a 63-year old.

I was so delighted to discover a game that has such a broad range of appeal that I found myself driven to create yet another Major Fun award - one specifically for families. I hope that I find many more games for this category. But I have a feeling that no matter how many more games I find, Chairs is going to prove unique.

Snorta

Snorta is even simpler than the rules make it out to be. And more fun. There's a deck of 100 animal cards. The deck is divided equally between 4-8 players. Players take turns exposing the top card in their pile. When cards match, the first player to make the sound of the other player's animal wins.

Other player's animal? Well, see, there's a bag full of plastic animals. Really nicely sculpted and painted cartoonishly funny-looking animals that live in a cloth drawstring bag. Each player picks, and that becomes the player's animal. And that animal gets hidden in a similarly nicely sculpted barn-like, doghouse-looking thing. So you have to remember everybody's animal. Which isn't so easy - especially when you're looking at cards with other animals printed on them.

If you lose, you have to pick up all the cards that the other player has already turned over. Depending on how long it's been since a match has been drawn, that pile can get punishingly large. So the tension builds. And the excitement mounts. And the laughter frequently turns into something approximating hysteria.

And then there's these occasional "swap" cards hidden in the animal card deck, which let you draw a different animal from the animal sack. Just in case people actually get too good at remembering the animal you used to be.

The mechanics of the game are subtle enough to make you want to play again and again. Even though a match can only involve two players at a time, all players are engaged. If you're not one of the players involved in a match, your pile just grows one card larger - making the possibility of success next round even that much more enticing. If you have a match fight with someone with a large pile, and you lose, it makes the loss that much more punishing. Combine the visual and memory challenge with the sheer silliness of people making animal noises at each other, and you get Snorta - a Major FUN Award-winning party game that's competitive enough to take seriously, and silly enough not to care. Snorta is an ideal family game - one that adults can enjoy (our Tasting group ranged in age from 7-63, including a couple of advanced teens) as much as their kids.

Wordigo

Wordigo really took us by surprise. We see a word-board game and we think: "maybe fun for the guy playing, but agony for the people who are waiting their turns." So we conclude "Word-board game = not really Major FUN material." Then we notice the different boards and four complete sets of tiles. This leads us to conclude that maybe all four of us can play simultaneously. No turn-waiting. Immediate gratification, verbally-playfully speaking. Except that there are six of us. So we play in three teams.

And the game just takes off. Sure, we are confused a little by the different boards in the set, and the funny arrows on the tiles, but we start anyway, racing against each other and the timer, using and drawing tiles and discarding, trying to fill our boards up with words. And then, when the time is reluctantly up, we figure out the scoring, which really gets interesting, strategic-implication-wise. The next round (we hardly ever play more than one round during a "game tasting," but this game was just too darn delicious), we are much more score-conscious so we get strategic and discover we really don't have enough time anyway. We also decide to start with the second board, only to discover that it is actually more challenging than the first.

The game comes with four sets of letter tiles with pouches, four sets of four different game boards (two boards with a different design on each side), the first and probably only seven-minute sand timer in the world, and a score pad. The tiles look remarkably similar to those letter-with-number tiles you see in scoring letter games, but they have arrows on the vowels. The boards are similar to kids' crossword puzzles, but without the clues.

The game can be played simultaneously with up to four players or with teams, which we think is even more fun. And you can even invite the kids to play or compensate for those with different verbal skills. The boards are of varying levels of difficulty. Those who want to can use the easier boards or start with more tiles or maybe recycle their discarded tiles.

Wordigo is the only word game I know of that allows you to use a dictionary while you're playing. Of course, looking something up in a dictionary while the sand is inexorably streaming your time away is perhaps not such a useful option. Unless you're playing in pairs. Which we just happened to be. And even then, we were all too wrapped in the rapture of it all to use anything other than our rapidly muddling minds.

For those of us who enjoyextended moments of time-free deliberation, the game is still entertaining without timers. Players just continue until all the boards have been filled.

Doubles Wild

Warning! It looks like another game of tic tac toe. In fact, it looks like a game of tic tac toe where you roll dice to decide where you can put your marble on the grid. So, it's wooden. So it's really well-made and delicious to feel. But, so what? It's tic tac toe!

Well, it is, and it isn't. The tic tac toe part of it makes it easier to understand and play. The dice part of it, most surprisingly, elevates the game to something surprisingly unique, nail-bitingly exciting and, from time to time, pants-wettingly fun.

See, it's called "Doubles Wild." And it's the wild doubles thing that is at least partly responsible for the fun of it all. Because without the wild doubles thing, you just roll your the dice and move where they tell you to. But with the wild doubles thing, you can position your marble anywhere along the specified row or column. And if you get two doubles (it didn't happen to us during the Tasting, but we all acknowledged the possibility), then you can put your marble anywhere on the board.

And it's also the attack-defend thing. See, if you can land on someone else's piece, you can maybe remove it from play. Maybe, because you have do engage your opponent in the feared "battle of the dice" where you have three chances to try to roll the higher total. And the losing player loses a marble.

And even more surprisingly, it's the roll again thing. If you don't like your first roll, you can roll either or both pair of dice again. So you have to think of the odds. And the strategy. And how desperate you are to keep the other player from winning.

And, as you can almost guess from the first move, it's the more and more marbles on the board thing that really makes the game into what one could only call a Major FUN Award-worthy experience. Because as the board gets populated, so do the strategic implications.

You can play Doubles Wild with two, three or four players. We had six at the time of our tasting, so we decided to play the 3-player version, in teams of two. I wish you could have been there to hear the profundity of reasoning and the intricacy of pro- and con- measurement. We played for an hour, and were surprised by the depth of the game on the average of every three minutes.

Catch 22

Catch 22 will remind you of Parcheesi, which, as everyone knows, is a derivative of the ancient Indian game Pachisi, which has only a little to do with why this game is so darn much fun. The Pachisi-likeness of it all has something to do with the fun - it makes the game feel familiar and that much easier to learn. But let me tell you right now, what we got here is as much like Pachisi as chess.

Yes, there's a bunch of plastic pawns, but you get only one. And there's a die - only one. And there's a board with a track on it - only the track is much more complex. And then there's this bunch of plastic blocks - 5 for each player. And a big bunch of little plastic poker chips. And that, equipment-wise, is basically it.

But the game itself is far more than a race. It's a vendetta.

See, you roll a die and hope that eventually you land on a space with some chips on it. So you can get those chips. Which is cool. And then, once you get enough of them, you try to find the closest open path to one of the finish squares. So you can win. Except if anyone lands on you, that person gets your chips. Which means as soon as you have enough chips, suddenly you're everybody's meat, if you know what I mean. Oh, yes, people can also put their little plastic cubes in your way. And just when you're getting close to the goal, and around all those blocks, there's the possibility that someone will switch places with you and send you somewhere you really don't want to be. And then someone else might pounce on you. And then you can join everyone else trying to steal that guy's gold.

There's a lot more strategy than chance. Way more strategy than you need to keep the game interesting. And just enough chance to keep the game fun. The sudden shifts in fortune make winning unpredictable, and can keep the game going for an hour or more, even though you spent maybe ten minutes figuring out how to play it.

Catch 22 is an ingenious race and chase game, most Major FUN Award-worthy.

Tantrix

It's a puzzle. It's a strategy game. You can buy it online. You can play it online. It's called "Tantrix," and it gets the Major FUN Award.

The hexagonal tiles are made of Bakelite. Touching and smushing them around is almost as delicious as playing with them. The Tantrix Game Pack consists of 56 tiles. Each tile is unique. There are four different color lines - some are curved, some straight, some are even more curved. There are numbers on the other side of each tile. These are used to determine which tiles are to be employed in creating which puzzle. The Discovery Puzzles involve using tiles numbered 1-30. The Rainbow Puzzles require sorting the numbers into like colors. Then there's Tantrix Solitaire. And, of course, the strategy game for 2-4 players.

There's a bit of learning to do in order to play the strategy game, and the puzzles are the perfect training vehicle. Playing online is very satisfying - the interface is intuitive, the online chat adding a feeling of immediacy and community.

Invented in 1987, in New Zealand, by a New Zealish chap named Mike McManaway, Tantrix is a unique puzzle/game, deserving a position of prominence in anyone's game collection.

Pass the Bomb

Pass the Bomb is a fast-paced word game for two or more players 12 and over (a junior version is available for kids 5 and up...read on).

The "bomb" is an electronic, clock-battery-included, cartoonish-bomb-with-fuse-shaped timer that goes off randomly between 10 and 60 seconds after it is activated. I'm mentioning the bomb first because it is the first thing you see when you open the box, and it's fun all by itself. Especially the random going-off part.

However, the genius of the game is, as they say, in the cards. There are 110 of them. Printed on both sides. Each has two or a few letters on it. The game: start the bomb, turn the first card over, say a word that ends with (or starts, or contains) those letters. Then pass the bomb to the next player. Who must say a different word. Etc., etc., until the bomb goes off (through, conceivably, no fault of the player, since it's random).

Whether the letters have to be in the beginning end or middle of a word is determined by the throw of a die, which, because this game is international, is graphic. And, yes, the graphics aren't that immediately obvious. But here I niggle.

The game is engaging and elegant. The losing player keeps the card, so the cards are used to keep score. The game is fast, so everyone stays involved. The challenge steadily increases as time passes and the obvious solutions get used up, so the tension increases. The unpredictable timer, and the brevity of the time allowed are just the right touches to keep the game fun.

As for the Junior version - same bomb, but different cards, and challenge. The card set is a collection of cartoon drawings depicting different scenes. Players then have to name things that might belong in that scene. It turns out that this is easily as fun as the word game. Even if you don't have kids, Pass the Bomb Junior is most funworthy in deed.

Coodju

Who'd think that a spelling game could be interesting enough, fun enough, exciting enough, to make into a party? Well, Matt and Derry, two, young, entrepreneuring game designers, certainly did. Enough to build a whole game company around. And, after playing it for five minutes, I was as convinced as they were.

Coodju is the kind of game the Major FUN Award was invented for. It's innovative, unique, easy to learn, fast, challenging, funny fun - and it's all done with spelling! You (at least 4 of you over-twelve-years-old types) play more or less in teams. Your partner has a card with five words on it. She reads them to you one-at-a-time. All you have to do to win the card is spell the words correctly. Of course, depending on the roll of the die, you might have to spell the words backwards, or inside out, or spell every other letter, or only the vowels or consonants. And depending on the roll of the other die, you might have twice as much time, or get twice or three times as many points, or take away points from the other guys.

You can almost feel those braincells burning as you try to spell a word "outside-in." P-Y-A-T-R is obviously PARTY. But what, one might ask, is H-S-A-S-P-E-P-N-I?

We liked everything about this game. We liked the challenge. We liked the scoring. We liked the dice. We liked the portable, two-compartment card tray that made it so easy for the Reader to keep track of which cards have been used. We liked the box that had the rules printed right on it. We didn't especially like the scoring pad or sand timer. We appreciated having them. And what, after all, is especially to like about scoring pads and sand timers?

And we especially liked knowing that there was a Coodju Lite - a different package with words that seven-year-olds could spell, a spinner instead of dice, and no scorepad. Coodju Lite is an elegant adaptation of Coodju, reduced in complexity to appeal to the age-impaired, but not reduced in play value. In fact, we found that because the cards in Coodju lite were a different color, we could combine games so the whole family could play together. The designers even included a cloth bag, knowing that kids would cherish the game enough to want to take it everywhere.

As to the "we" - last Sunday's Game Tasting group included myself, my wife, Rocky; the amazing Ivory (a beloved, game-addicted regular), and the co-inventorsm them-very-selves. It just so happened that they lived a couple beaches north of us, and, despite my misgivings about undue influence, they turned out to be wonderful, fun people, who appreciated games as much as we did, and we delighted in their delight as much as ours. It was a rare opportunity, and fortunate in deed that they had such genuinely BERNIE-worthy games to share with us.

That inside-out word, for those of you who are still seeking: HAPPINESS.

Sequence

Despite my declared prediliction for "games that make people laugh," every now and then I come across a "serious" game that is so unique, so playable, and so readily invites adaptation and variation, that I just can't let it go by without giving it a Major FUN Award- a game like Sequence.

Sequence is based on the Japanese game of Go-Moku - a kind of tic-tac-toe in which it takes five-in-a-row in order to win. Go-Moku is a classic strategy game, and you'll find a great deal about it on the Internet. This site discusses strategy and interesting variations of the game. There's a site devoted to Go-Moku and it's variations including the classic games of Renju and Pente. Here's the International Internet Go-Moku Foundation. And, for your immediate gratification, here's an online version.

Basing any game on Go-Moku is a fortuitous choice. It is an easy game to understand, even for a seven-year-old. And is strategically deep enough to attract adult play. An even more fortuitous decision is to introduce an element of luck. Suddenly, this game of pure strategy is as much about chance as it is about skill. Which levels the playing field even further, making it an ideal game for a very wide age range. It's a difficult line to straddle, the line between chance and strategy. Sequence not only crosses that line, but arrives at a uniquely playable game.

The Sequence board is a 10x10 grid. A playing card, with the exception of jacks, is depicted on each square in the grid. Jacks are wild. Also included are two decks of cards and three sets of playing pieces. Two to three players or teams can play. Cards are dealt, the squares available for play being determined by the cards that player is holding. Two-eyed Jacks are wild, allowing the player to add a piece anywhere on the board. One-eyed Jacks are called "anti-wild," and are used to remove any piece (the famous "screw-you factor"). The wildness of the Jacks is a prefect touch, adding an extra layer of luck, strategy and interaction.

Given these elements, it is easy to see how readily we can generate new variations and modifications. In addition to the classic Go-Moku variations, we also have cards to play with - cards that can be used to level the playing field (winners have to start the next game with fewer cards), cards that can be declared wild - with all sorts of wild possibilities (reposition one or more of your or your opponent's pieces, reverse direction of play, exchange colors...).

Sequence is an ideal family game. Even for a very large family. The board is well-made, the pieces sturdy, the cards easy to shuffle and hold. And the game is deep enough to withstand hours of play, variation, exploration and invention.

A to Z

There's nothing funny about A to Z, and yet, this game made us laugh, almost non-stop, for an entire hour. Each player or team gets an alphabet board. Dice are rolled. A category is selected from a card. And then that player or team has fifteen or thirty seconds (depending on the dice) to name items that fit the category. As soon as an item is named, its first letter gets covered on the alphabet board. Name as many items as possible within the time limit, each starting with a different letter, and then name more, in a different category, when it gets to be your turn again. The object is to be the first player or team to complete the alphabet. Transparent discs are used to mark which letters have been used.

There were eight of us, so we played it in teams. It turned out to be so much fun to play with a teammate that I'd recommend, even if there are exactly four players, that you play it in two teams. Some of the categories are excruciatingly difficult. Like, names of foreign newspapers, or famous military leaders. Others are delightfully easy, especially for us average American folk - like snack foods or fast food restaurants. So, you might think that success depends on the luck of the category drawn. And you'd continue thinking it until someone throws the dice and the hand symbol appears. Then, when naming items, instead of trying to find things that begin with one of the ever-dwindling assortment of available letters (like Q and Z), you select someone else's board, and remove their discs. Since the letters already covered tend to be those that are easiest to use, things have a way of evening out with depressing rapidity.

The mechanical timer ticks and flips noisily when the time limit is reached. It's a little difficult to see the fifteen second mark (there are only two time limits - either the full 30 seconds or the painfully brief fifteen), affording the opportunity for the only negative criticism I could find for this remarkably absorbing, unique, challenging, easy to understand, and genuinely fun word game.

SET gets a Major FUN award

Today's Major FUN Award goes to a SET, a card game of perception and logic for one or more players, age six and up.

SET is such a fun challenge, so absorbing, so elegantly designed that it got the Major Fun award even though it's not really a party game (though, conceivably, there's no upper limit to the number of players), or a particularly new game (it was invented about twenty-five years ago) or the kind of game that makes you laugh.

Each card has from one to three symbols of one of three different shapes, of one of three different colors, either outlined, shaded or solid. This outlined, shaded or solid bit makes for yet another complication, so the SET makers, if I may so designate them (actually, it's SET Enterprises) have thoughtfully packaged the cards in two separate decks. The smaller deck contains just the solid ("filled") symbols, and is, consequently, much easier to play with.

The game begins by laying out twelve cards, face -up. Simultaneously, players compete to find three cards that comprise a SET. A SET is: "three cards in which each of the card's features, looked at one-by-one, are the same on each card, or, are different on each card." My wife understood this immediately. After playing several rounds, I discovered myself understanding it (I could find SETs) but still not being able to verbalize exactly what a SET is. Apparently, it's one of those left-right brain things. Which is key to why this game is so compelling. And why it works so well with even school-age kids. And why it's won so many awards. Including the coveted Major Fun award.

Also, because the design is so elegant, it invites variations, several of which, including a cooperative version (always my favorite) are described on the SET site.

SET Enterprises also offers a daily puzzle. It's a great way to get a sense of the game, and a genuinely absorbing challenge in and of itself.

SET is a great family game, a great game for school kids, an equally great game for adults, to play by yourself or at a party, or in a restaurant... Challenging. Elegant. Most truly Major FUN Award-worthy.

Apples to Apples

Today's Major FUN Award goes to Apples to Apples. In fact, it goes not only to Apples to Apples, not only to the two editions of Apples to Apples Junior or the Apple to Apple Booster Kits, but also to the veritable makers and marketers of Apples to Apples, Out of the Box Publishing.

But first, let's talk Apples to Apples.

It's a party game - from a little party of four players to a significant party of ten. It's a card game. A lot of cards. 432 cards, by my count. Nicely made, highly-shufflable, plastic-coated, square-cornered cards. Well-designed, easy-to-read cards with cute commentaries. And a card tray to hold three stacks of 'em. And clear rules printed on stiff, coated paper. This is typical of Out of the Box products. Lots of consideration given to look and feel and longtime replay value.

But enough about how it looks. It's how it plays that makes it so Major FUN Award-worthy.

There are two different kinds of cards. The Green Apple cards describe characteristics, like: Influential, Wicked, Distinguished. The Red Apple cards are people, places and things. Each player gets seven Red Apple cards. One player, who gets to be the Judge for that particular turn, selects a Green Apple card. Then everyone else more or less races to play a Red Apple card or two that fits that characteristic. What constitutes a fit can get very iffy in deed. Given, for example, a Green Apple of INFLUENTIAL, which of these cards would you play: COCKROACHES, HOOLIGANS, JAMES BOND, WHEAT, ICEBERGS, GRAVITY, or THE UNIVERSE? Some are clearly iffier than others. One could say that THE UNIVERSE is more influential than HOOLIGANS. In fact, one could even say that GRAVITY is even more influential.

It turns out that that very iffiness is what makes the game such a delight to play. There are no right answers. It's up to the imagination of the players, the judgment of the judge, and whatever subtle pressures one puts on the other.

Because a different player plays Judge each turn, the iffiness gets spread around evenly enough to make the game as fair as it is fun.

As to its Gigglwattage, it varies in intensity. Generally, the game is about a 40-Gigglewatter. But, from time to time, it can get blindingly funny.

And then there's the Major FUN Award that goes to Out-of-the-Box itself. Every game I've looked at from them so far has that well-designed, carefully considered, made-for-easy-fun feeling. And they make good use of their website, going to the extent of offering downloadable rules for each of their games - just in case you need an extra copy.

A Major FUN Award for the game. A Major FUN Award for the company that makes it. O, the enthusiastic endorsement of it all!

Blink

Today's Major FUN Award goes to:



Blink is a card game for two, maybe three players. Since I especially games that tend to make people laugh, Blink is exactly the kind of game the Bernie Award is meant for.

The fun of it is similar to that of the double-solitaire game poetically referred to as "Spit." It's a game of speed and matching. But it's a special deck. And therein lies its, um, specialness.

There are three attributes to each card: color, number and shape. This is one more attribute than a standard deck of cards.

The deck is divided evenly between two players. Each player has a hand of three cards. Two starting cards are turned up. And the game begins. Players simultaneously place a matching card on either of the two starting cards and pick up a replacement from their deck. There's no turn-taking. So, while you're engaged in solemn deliberation as to which of your cards you should place on the card with three red triangles, I blithely slap down my one red star card.

The first player to have played all her cards wins.

The three different attributes are just enough to make potentially excessive demands on your mental powers. The simultaneous play is exactly what is needed to make the game engaging and o so delightfully tense. Which is why you so frequently find yourself laughing helplessly. Since any play can make it easier or more difficult for the other player, there's nothing to take personally. Except the fun.