It started out as a wonderful way to share something I love with my family. Little did I know the result would shatter my ego into a thousand tiny bits of self-loathing and doubt.
Let me back up a minute. Over the course of my years spent in close proximity to my wife, I’ve encouraged her whenever possible to embrace the way of the nerd. To that end, there have been great successes. To wit, she’s seen every episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation and read every issue of Joss Whedon’s run on Astonishing X-Men. Her favorite superhero movie is X-Men: First Class, and she enthusiastically decorated our son’s bedroom with super hero regalia.
So last year I decided to introduce her to table-top gaming with Talisman, the iconic fantasy-themed board game that’s now in its fourth edition.
I was absolutely thrilled when she took to it like a wizard takes to the command spell. We play one-on-one games several times a month, and she usually asks me to play, rather than the other way around. But then a disturbing trend set in: In a game that relies in large part on lucky dice rolls and drawing helpful cards, she started beating me like a drum over and over again. Like five of the last six games we’ve played.
At first, I just shrugged it off as bad luck. The tables would turn on the next go-round, I figured. But the losing streak weighs more heavily on my mind with each loss, and, I’m ashamed to admit that it’s starting to impact my enjoyment of the game. That’s never been the case for me. Win or lose, I usually just enjoy the experience of sharing a compelling game with friends or family. But my losing streak has completely obliterated my Talisman mojo.
For the Talisman veterans out there, let me illustrate just how bad my luck has been in my recent quests to claim the Crown of Command. In the last game, I had amassed a pretty impressive collection of objects, including the mule and a talisman, while still adventuring around the outer region. I figured I’d scoop up one more strength before I ventured into the middle region and begin my preparations for a run at the crown. Landing on the city, I decided to visit the mystic. The worst-case scenario was she’d turn me into a toad, in which case I’d burn one of my four fate tokens and re-roll.
So I rolled my d6, and bamf! The old witch toads me in a cloud of blue smoke and the stench of brimstone. I played it cool; I’d taken this very possibility into account. Just burn a fate and roll again. So I did, and I came up with the exact same roll. Toaded again, and this time I have to accept the result. So I lost all the killer loot I was counting on to get me through the middle region, and I never recovered. My wife, sensing the blood in the water, made her run for the crown shortly after that. Before I was even able to return to the city to pick up the loot I dropped, she was wearing me down with the command spell.
That double-toading sequence absolutely crushed my gaming soul. At that moment, I hated Talisman with the totality of my being.
It’s now to the point that I’m considering buying a cooperative game like Defenders of the Realm so we can lose together. And from the reviews I’ve read online, it’s really rewarding to play a well designed co-op game with your family. So it’s not like my motives are purely selfish, right? I'm not a terrible husband for feeling this way. Right, guys?
In the meantime, I’ll be right here, stuck squarely between the desire to encourage my wife to share my hobbies and the terror of losing to her for the sixth time in seven games. I feel like the Grim Reaper from Bill & Ted.
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