Rabbit Rabbit

No no, I’m not referring to the goofy poem and mime game by crazy Czech genius Vlaada Chvatil, that’s Bunny Bunny (Moose Moose). I’m referring to the superstition that saying “rabbit rabbit” the first thing each new month brings you good luck that month, and if said on January 1st the good luck follows you through the new year.

2012 has been a great year for me. I am truly a lucky person, and not just because I played (and won) a bit more than my fair share of games. I won’t clog a board game blog with sappy non-gaming stuff, but I want to thank each and every one of you who read this, as you were undoubtedly a part of making this year so amazing.

Josh and I are excited to continue pouring out our thoughts on this wonderful hobby into the site. For my part, I’m hoping to give you more content, and I already have some stuff I would love to talk about. In 2013, be on the lookout for:

  • More actual honest-to-God board game reviews.
  • A blow by blow of the not one but two Risk: Legacy campaigns I’m a part of.
  • Me to finally admit that Monopoly is pretty much a piece of s***.
  • Whatever kooky crap about gaming occurs to me that I think would make an entertaining read.

And above all, let us not forget what it’s all about; a celebration of games, gamers, and the gaming culture that we love so much. Any Game Good. Let’s spend 2013 proving it.

-Brandon

I’ve never said “Rabbit Rabbit” (and I think only first heard of it on January 1st 2012) and let me tell you, the fact that I can’t find a good link to the improv warm up “Bunny Bunny (toki toki)” is breaking my heart. And Yet!: I too am looking forward to 2013.

2012 wasn’t the best year for me, but after a long December there is reason to believe that maybe this year will be better than the last. And this site and its mission (spend time with friends, playing games) is a big part of that. My big plans for boardgaming in the new year?

  • Get out to Unity games, or something like that. (My boardgaming social circle has dwindled over the last few years, since friends keep moving hundreds of miles away. Time to repopulate)
  • Get a game of Nomic going. (They never seem to end, but I’ve had three really good experiences with their start)
  • Console Brandon when he admits that Monopoly is a piece of crap, and remind him that his memories of having fun with it are still good. (It’s not like those old movies where you realize the blatant racism or misogyny and can’t look at them the same way. You had good times together! It’s okay buddy!)
  • Get a guest post up (Justus, Shauna, I’m looking in your directions)

Now, let’s have some fun, shall we? Who’s free next Wednesday?

-Josh

We don’t have a picture of us gaming. Because we don’t take pictures while we’re gaming. On account of the gaming. But it does look almost exactly like this. Right down to that ugly white pit stain of mine. Happy Holidays!

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On Monopoly Part 3: Monopoly Streets

I love Monopoly. This puts me in the vast minority of people in every gaming group I’ve been in since I was thirteen. And while I do enjoy the game, and defend it at every turn, I do also understand that it’s a pretty shite game. I have a great deal to say about Monopoly, both good and bad.

And I’d like to know whether or not the digitization of the game holds up.

So yes, this is a board game site. And Monopoly Streets is a video game (for all the major consoles). But it IS Monopoly, and Monopoly is a board game. So I can talk about it. You can’t stop me.

Monopoly has come out in many forms. Novelty Monopoly re-skins aside, the game has had many iterations, including releases on every major console since the NES. There are card games, dice games, electronic banking versions, and new designs to the board (my personal favorite is the Onyx Edition, though the deeds and money are a bit too small). But the board game itself has not changed much since the modern version hit the shelves more than 70 years ago. When an edition of Monopoly came out for the Xbox I was thrilled. My good friend and fellow Monopoly enthusiast Nick lives in Florida, and this could have been a fantastic way for us to play Monopoly together.

Except it had no online support. Bull. F***ing. S***. Why the hell would you get a Monopoly video game you can’t play online? What is this, the eighties? And who would sit around and play Monopoly on the Xbox? You may as well break out the board, you’re bound to have a copy laying around. The game went back almost immediately (some in-game achievement hunting aside).

Fast forward a couple years. Monopoly Streets comes out, and delivers online play. The $30 price tag is a bit steep to buy out-right, but I rent it and put it through the paces. So how does it match up? Let’s get into the nitty-gritty and compare the minutiae of this digitized version of the classic game.

If Monopoly was a city I’d vandalize it

The Grand Splendor

One of Monopoly Streets’ biggest selling points is the different boards. You can play on the classic board, or in a 3D cityscape version. They also have a space-age board, cheese board, ice board, etc. They look kind of cool, and for a game lauded as much for its iconic imagery as the game itself, it bears mentioning. But collecting digital versions of boards (and some cost real cash) isn’t at all like owning a physical copy. And the boards have no effect on gameplay.

It’s neat watching your characters march around the board, wearing or riding their pieces. They, and Mr. Monopoly, all have voices, which I promptly muted 30 seconds into the game. When you just want to play the game, these sorts of things need to be skip-able, and thank God, they are. With the exception of the intro and end victory screen, all movement and dialogue is skip-able and mute-able (mutable means something completely different).

The updated boards and pieces (again, some cost real cash, what a rip-off) are a neat addition, but it’s not what interests me. I wanted to see how this stacks up against a live game. The rules, and the people.

Nuts And Bolts

The game itself plays pretty smoothly. You can play with the avatars that each piece has (the battleship has a captain, the top hat is worn by an infant Richie Rich, etc.), or use your Xbox Live avatar, which I recommend, because the in-game voices are annoying as hell, as is Mr. Monopoly. As I mentioned before, you can skip most dialogue, but you’ll still hear the character voices before each roll, so it’s best to turn the voices all the way off and be prepared to hit the B button a lot.

The rules for auctioning deeds in Monopoly isn’t exactly standardized; the auction can be run any way the players wish, though when the auctioneer also has a vested interest in the bidding there’s a conflict of interest. In Monopoly Streets the system is pretty sleek; there’s a 20 second (adjustable) time limit, during which players raise and lower their current bids, all viewable. It becomes a game of cat-and-mouse, raising to beat someone, lowering to make sure you’re not caught with the deed, trying to get the best value for the purchase. It’s quick, which is critical, but the sliding scale doesn’t have a lot of control; just pressing up doesn’t increase the bids quick enough. There are buttons to increase and decrease the bid by $10, and most times I would just use those, but it would be nice to have a more robust bidding system. The AI can change their bids rapidly, human players should be able to as well.

Trades can only happen with the current player, and then only once he’s rolled the dice. This is again designed to speed the game along, and I like it. It would be nice if players would use mics and chat about prospective trades to speed things along further and minimize downtime, but that doesn’t happen often.

Building can also only happen at the end of your turn. I like this change too; ordinarily you can build at any time, including during other players’ turns (but not between dice rolls and the movement). This has the potential to grind the pace of the game down as folks chime in, and it can cause conflict when there’s a housing shortage. Ordinarily the houses have to be auctioned off, but the rules for that aren’t very well defined. Here there’s no confusion, and it forces you to make a tactical decision before you relinquish the dice. It also speeds things up, which I’m always a fan of.

Overall the game plays very smoothly for a digital version of the original. The original rules are preserved, and a great deal of customization is allowed to accommodate favored house rules, new versions, or little tweaks you think would improve the numbers (houses sell back for less, or more, jail can last more or fewer turns, etc.).

But the question remains; how does it work with other people?

The Humanity

$#!^*@%

There’s online play. And you can still play with people locally on one console/TV. Oddly enough, you can’t combine the two. That seems awfully unfair to me, but what do I know about programming?

When playing an online game, if somebody leaves before they’re bankrupted, the game sends you back to the menu. There’s not a lot preventing people from pissing off and ruining your game. I’ve seen it happen a number of times: system crash, people get tired of watching trades happen, somebody’s just losing and doesn’t want to stick around to their end. Sometimes a bot comes in to replace them, but if the host leaves you’re chucked back to the lobby. It’s a very irritating setup.

It’s kind of funny, the way the lobby is set up. There are ranked matches, which must follow one of the pre-defined rule sets, of which there are many. There are custom matches, where you can play with custom rule-sets, and presumably they don’t apply to your online ranking. And you can sort the games in the lobby by; players in game; alphabetically by rule set; max number of players; and alphabetically by user name. But the funny thing is that there’s never enough games to merit such organization. There’s often not any games at all. Also, you can see the name of the custom rules set someone has set up, but not the rules themselves. And since nobody chats online, you can’t ask; you just have to figure it out as you play. You also need to be careful not to hit “ready” if you don’t want to jump into a two-player game; the game starts when everyone is “ready.”

One unfortunate thing about the game is there’s no enforcement to get a player to end their turn. There’s a time limit, but it gets reset when a player chooses to either build/mortgage, or conduct a trade. Even if they don’t do those things, the clock still resets, so there’s nothing to stop a player from constantly offering trades when nobody is interested, or simply stall the game. And if someone gets frustrated and leaves, it’s back to the lobby. Monopoly can cause raw feelings, which can lead to poor sportsmanship, and that coupled with anonymity usually leads to aborted games.

The Verdict

The game can be easily summed up as: if you like Monopoly, you’ll probably like Monopoly Streets. Still, the Devil is in the details. The graphics are neat if you like that sort of thing. The game implementation is solid, and only frustrating at times. The community is pretty weak, but not yet dead.

It doesn’t fit the scenario I specifically want, that me, my girlfriend, Nick and his wife could play a game together, since the hot seat/online play doesn’t blend (not that Katie likes the game at all, but I feel this would be the best place for her to give it another chance). If it had a better community I’d love it, but that’s something no game designer can simply fix.

UPDATE: The last time I played a match two guys with remarkably similar screen names ended up trading mid-game, before anyone was in trouble, so one guy got everything. The disc was immediately (after submitting Code of Conduct violations to Microsoft on both names) returned to its Gamefly envelope and sent back.

On Monopoly part 2: Beyond Boardwalk

I love Monopoly. This puts me in the vast minority of people in every gaming group I’ve been in since I was thirteen. And while I do enjoy the game, and defend it at every turn, I do also understand that it’s a pretty shite game. I have a lot to say about Monopoly, both good and bad.

This weekend was no exception.

Lots of people in the world love Monopoly. Some like it for its artistic merits, some appreciate the history (did you know that Monopoly games sent to POWs in World War II had hidden cash, maps, and tools to help soldiers escape?), and some crazy individuals are really excited about playing the game itself. A couple of friends named Noel Gunther and Richard Hutton got together with some friends around 1985, and realized why they stopped playing when they grew up. The game has issues; too long, too much luck, too much dead time. They set out to create a list of rules changes that would give the game more skill, more risk, more challenge and, ideally, more fun. They published a book in November 1986 called Beyond Boardwalk and Park Place (and you’ll have an easier time finding the book at your local library than that Amazon link), which codified their rules changes, added some history and a few gags, and made out to change the face of Monopoly. I’m told it didn’t sell well.

Cut to 2009. My friend and fellow games nut Toby (name changed to protect him) sends me a PDF of a book he found at the Worcester public library. I’m hooked on the idea, but I can’t get anyone to play the damn thing until years later, and that breaks bad due to a massive divergence in investment at the table. But I never lost hope, and this last weekend, in a campground it Pittsfield MA with a group of like-minded nerds, I finally got the session of Beyond Boardwalk I wanted. The results were mixed, but positive overall. I think.

Gentlemen, I’ve brought you here to discuss a proposition…

The Rules

I’ll assume you know most of the rules of Monopoly, but I’ll highlight a few overlooked ones. We didn’t use every rule Beyond boardwalk states, but we did use most of them. I’ll explain them here, as well as why I think they work so well.

1) Deeds now cost twice their list price to purchase outright. Otherwise they go into auction, starting at half the list price plus $10.

In Monopoly everyone starts with $1500. The total cost for every deed in the game is $5690. There’s enough money in the system to buy everything, and there’s very little consequence to buying everything you land on. This changes that. It Introduces a lot more auctions, yet gives an option to buy the deed with no contest. This way, every purchase you make is important. Buy too much too soon and you’re busted. The auction base price insures nobody can buy a deed for less than its mortgage value and sell it for a quick buck. On that note:

2) No mortgages. Deeds can be sold back to the bank for half price.

The way most Monopoly games work is, once you have your winning Monopoly, everything else gets mortgaged for cash. $10 and $20 rents are insignificant at that stage. So the board looks like a wasteland with a few high value locations designed to crush an opponent. With this rule, you need the cash, you have to lose the deed. And since you probably paid more for it than what you’re getting, it’s a loss some cannot afford to take.

3) $1 bills are gone; round all fees up to the nearest $5.

Everyone was all for this. Sometimes it’s fun to gripe over 2 dollars, but Monopoly has never been decided by single digit fees.

4) While in Jail, you cannot build, you cannot bid on deeds, and you only collect half the rent to which you’re entitled.

In the late game, Jail is super awesome. There’s nothing to buy, the Go money isn’t significant, and moving only increases your chances of hitting an opposing player’s monopoly. Not moving for up to 3 turns is great, usually, so this rule makes it much more of a risk.

5) Fees from Chance, Community Chest, Income and Luxury tax are paid into a Free Parking Pot. Hit the spot, get the pot.

This is in there because money exits the system so quickly, so this is a way to put some back in. Plus it’s fun to hit, honestly. Nobody landed on it, so it’s irrelevant.

6) You can only by houses immediately before you roll on your turn.

The optimal strategy in Monopoly is to build right before an opponent who could hit your spaces rolls. You minimize risk of getting hit with rent you can’t pay, and maximize the chances of that invested capital paying off immediately. Now there’s risk. It also speeds the game up, and gets around house auctions when there’s a housing shortage.

7) Uneven building

This house rule has been floating around for a while, and for a game with little disposable cash it’s a good strategic and pragmatic inclusion. Basically, once you have the monopoly, you can build freely. This means you can get a 3-house hard hitter without buying the other stuff up. It allows for another strategic element and, mini-spoiler, if one of the players used it better he would have won soundly.

8) Cash on hand is hidden information

The standard rules of Monopoly state that money is on the table, and if someone asks you are obligated to tell them how much cash you have. For a game with a lot of auctions, it’s important information, especially when you play with aggressive players who like to bluff you with up-bidding when they’re effectively broke. It’s another strategic element, and benefits those who are paying attention.

9) Trading options are expanded beyond assets.*

Officially, you can only trade deeds, cash, and that the “get out of jail free” card. This game allows house rule trades. A few quick examples are; immunity, short or long-term; forcing opponents to not trade with others; split income for Monopolies; etc. This can lengthen the game, but the wheeling and dealing is a critical component of Monopoly, and this has the chance to reward savvy players greatly. Our own addendum to this: trades and deals were fully binding. No promising free rides and reneging.

We didn’t use a rule that made the utilities part of the railroad system, because we felt it made railroads too powerful. We also updated the Income tax and Luxury Tax costs to current Monopoly standards ($200 and $100 at all times, respectively), and we were off.

The Four consulted the Codex, and did consign themselves to the Fates. The Game had begun.

Before The Storm

Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

There were four of us: me, John Fraley, Auston Habershaw, and John Serpico, in that order. A prototypical game many months prior showed me that Fraley and Serpico would play with the kind of high-level competitiveness I was looking for. And based on stories of past games and what I knew of the man, Auston would be a strong fourth. He was also willing to play. Early on a small fight about starting pieces leads me to believe that I have picked the right men. Right next to us a rousing game of Cards Against Humanity was being played. The massive juxtaposition of these games, in play and in community, did not escape me, and while laughter was had, my stalwart companions and I silently agreed to solder through this gritty expanse that is a Monopoly game.

Early Play

I try not to discuss strategy too much when playing a game. If someone is new, and they ask my opinion, I’ll give it, but not otherwise, for many reasons. One is that it bogs down the explanation of the game. Another is that it’s usually un-welcome; you don’t sit at a game to have it played for you, and God Damn it if I can’t get that thought through to some of my hard-core gamer acquaintances. And unless you’re trying to sweet-talk and subtly manipulate other players into doing what you want (a somewhat dirty, but totally legal tactic; I call it Silver Tongue, and Ted Vessenes is a master of it) it hinders your chances of winning. The Beyond Boardwalk game I envision is full of cutthroat men eager to leverage every asset they can bring to bear. So it was with a small amount of trepidation that I kept mostly silent when I saw some dangerous early mistakes being made.

Everyone at the table seems to think that, now that deeds cost twice their list price, that they’re actually worth that. Auston plows through with the habit of buying everything he lands on outright, while auctions see deeds going for very close to double the list price. That’s all well and good when these are deeds you need, but nobody really needs them. If you land on a deed, send it to auction, and buy it for less than twice the list price, you saved yourself some money. But if someone else landed there, and you dropped that cash , you’re kind of shooting yourself in the foot. So it was that I held back, hung on to my cash, and waited for people to drain themselves. Auston was tapped fairly quickly. Serpico and Fraley lasted longer, but their purchases were too unfocused. I fought to get a couple of the light purples and little else. To be fair, they never panned out.

At one point I have one yellow, Serpico has the other. Someone lands on the third, and Fraley and Auston bow out of the bidding quickly. Up until now deeds have been going for hefty costs. So when Serpico bids around $200 for Ventnor, low by any standards, I simply let him have it, to some confused looks. Now I decided it was time to discuss a bit of strategy.

“Anyone know why I did that?” I ask, in my best educator’s voice. Silence. I’m not hiding my money that well, so they know it’s not lack of funds. “Serp and I already have the yellows. Whether he or I have the third, we still have it between us, and one is just as good as two.” Auston picks up on what I’m getting at, Fraley gets it a minute later. I hope I don’t sound condescending in my explanation; I genuinely want the people I’m playing with to learn Monopoly and play it better.

I wasn’t bragging. I swear.

Somewhere along the line Serpico gets Boardwalk. When Park Place gets hit, Fraley and Auston aren’t in any position to bid. I convince Serp to let me have it for the low price of $250, and in exchange I give it to him in exchange for the yellows. It’s good news for me and Serp, bad news for Fraley and Auston.

Mid Game

All I have for deeds are two light purples that didn’t pan out, and the yellow Monopoly. And I couldn’t be happier. In plain Monopoly, you can buy deeds crazily. Even when you don’t need them, the trading fodder is a wonderful thing to have, and the ability to simply block Monopolies is often reason enough to sit on a deed. But what many people don’t realize is, once you have a monopoly of sufficient strength, everything else is ancillary, if you have money to develop it. And all my not-buying is paying off now.

With uneven building I decide to spread a few houses between two deeds. It’s early enough that I could spend heavily on development and not worry about hitting a big rent, but also early enough that too many deeds are out there to be out of bidding power. Still, I try to take advantage of the situation; a couple of players are coming up on my area, with a 6 and 7 putting them on Atlantic and Ventnor respectively. The timing is too good to ignore. I don’t recall if it paid off the first time, but it did at least once, and in a game as cash-strapped as this, once is enough.

Fraley and Auston are suffering, but they have potential between them. I have cash to develop, but I wait. And it’s a good thing I do; the third Orange goes up to bid. Auston can’t get it, but if Fraley can they’ve already talked out some trades that give them monopolies. So I do what might be the most tactical and vicious thing I do this session; I buy it. I have the money to outbid, and I have every intention to sit on it. Without that lynchpin to make the trade, Fraley and Auston don’t have a deal to make.

My yellows begin to pay off. The writing’s on the wall for Auston. Cards Against Humanity roars on in the background providing numerous raunchy laughs to everyone, but here in Atlantic City we’re settling in for the grind.

It’s hard to determine when Serpico is feeling down, or when he’s trying to garner some sympathy through tactical bitching. What’s tactical bitching? Flashback…

BBQ’ing in Serpico’s backyard, a bunch of nerds are talking nerdy stuff. A discussion of the game Small World comes up. Erik is telling a tale of a friend who would whine and moan every time he was attacked. “Oh come on,” “Aw Jeez,” and my all-time hated one, “I’ve lost now,” all come spilling forth. Until the last turn.

“Okay, I’m going to attack [REDACTED].”

“Aww, damn, I… oh wait, I’ve taken all my turns, never mind.” His whining is that calculated kind of manipulation to throw people off his scent. I’ve known players like that. I hate players like that. Serpico hates players like that. So imagine my surprise when…

“The game’s pretty much done, I’m screwed. I just wanna build my house, just to be part of something.”

Here’s the thing; whether or not you think you’re out, you’re not out, so I don’t buy it. We know the score. You stamp three houses on either dark Blue, you’re not out. The one thing that throws me, however, is that he builds on Park Place, not Boardwalk. My guess is that, at the time, a 7 would’ve landed an opponent there, and once he committed to building there he stuck with it. But Boardwalk isn’t that much different from getting hit, probability-wise. In fact, it gets hit more, on account of the Chance card that sends you there. Hindsight is 20-20, and a couple of people did hit Boardwalk while it was still undeveloped. That would’ve been the turning point for Serpico. And while he moaned about being out, I was quick to note that he only needed one person to hit him and he was essentially the victor.

Therein lays one of the problems of Monopoly. You only feel good when other people are getting screwed. Every time someone skirts by your properties it’s a kick in the teeth. No matter how much you tweak the game, at its core you’re still at the whim of the dice.

Feels this way sometimes

End Game

Things are looking down for Fraley; he hits Serp at Boardwalk for a decent amount. But now is the perfect time to enact another one of Beyond Boardwalk’s more interesting rules

10) Voluntary Bankruptcy

The way it works is, at any time when you’re not in debt you can voluntarily declare bankruptcy. You turn in all cash and deeds to the bank. You then get Baltic, Mediterranean, and $800. If anyone owns them they get $120 per deed, plus full price for any houses and hotels on them. Auston gets $240, Fraley passes go and has $1000 to work with. He doesn’t build on the Browns (another change in the new Monopoly sets; the “dark purples” are now brown).

It’s a funny scenario. There are now a bunch of deeds in the bank that nobody but one guy can afford. He’s able to buy the same deeds that got him in trouble, but way cheaper. It’s like Freddie Mac all over again.**

Auston bankrupts on my spot. There’s a bit of argument as to what happens with his deeds. The official rule is this: when a player bankrupts on a player, all his assets go to the player who took him out. I get the deeds, but I don’t have the cash to improve on them. Not letting others have them is good enough.

Fraley can’t get a monopoly. Serpico finally hits my yellows and has to break down his dark blues. That’s effectively game end, so we call it. I win, and I thank everyone profusely for the game.

The win doesn’t feel like I thought it would. I think it’s because Monopoly is a game about crushing your opponents, and it doesn’t feel great to do that. You want everyone to have fun, and it’s hard for everyone to have fun in Monopoly; it’s usually just the one guy at any given time.

Post Mortem

One exchange Fraley and I had during the game I found very heartening:

Fraley: “Hmm. I learned something during this game.”

Me: “…Uh, are you going to tell us what that is?”

Fraley: “No.”

Me: “Hmm. Well, let me ask you this. Are you not telling me because it’s information you hope to use against me in a future play of this?”

Fraley: “Yes.”

Me: “Well that’s way better than knowing what it is you learned. I look forward to our next game.”

I still love Monopoly, from the stretches of tedium to the brief moments of triumph and defeat when that one (un)lucky roll hits. I’m becoming more acutely aware that I may be the only one, or at least one of a few, too few in my circle to get a game going. But I won’t stop fighting for it.

* Auston told us that when he used to play with friends they would sell die rolls. Like, if another player needed that 7 to hit a deed they wanted, and another player rolled it, they’d look at the dice, look at the player, and say, “for $100, that could be YOUR seven…” It never occurred to me that your roll could be a sell-able asset. I think I wouldn’t like it, but it’s a neat idea.

** It’s not like Freddie Mac

On Monopoly, Part 1: Home Sweet House Rules

I love Monopoly. This puts me in the vast minority of people in every gaming group I’ve been in since I was thirteen. And while I do enjoy the game, and defend it at every turn, I do also understand that it’s a pretty shite game.  I have a lot to say about Monopoly, both good and bad.

It was true for me as a child, and it is true today.

Look at this Suave motherfucker

When you’re a kid you don’t usually appreciate the subtleties of a complex board game. Chutes and Ladders, Candy Land, Cooties, Hi-Ho Cherry-O, these are your choices. They teach us simple things like counting, pattern recognition, colors, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit about probabilities and a lot about luck. They are designed to entertain children, and give families an activity to share. Monopoly does these things, but ask your parents if their goal in playing Monopoly was to teach you about savvy trading, auctioneering, probabilities on dice rolls, return on investment and cost analysis. Their goal was to keep their kids from chewing the house down. And the things that make that more effective are; lengthening the game, not eliminating players, not punishing kids who will throw fits, and generally keeping the “game” as an activity to share, not a cutthroat endeavor to reduce your opponents to nothing but pocket lint and a scowl.

I loved this game as a kid. I’d rope anyone willing to play into a game. I have very vivid memories of dragging my brother Ryan into a game, watching him get totally bored, and throw the game so he could do other things. I loved hitting Free Parking and raking in free cash. I loved that everyone could gather around the game and be a family. I don’t remember how most games turned out, but I remember a lot of smiles.

If I had to teach young me how the game was really played, I’d probably hate myself.

My uncle Sammy (actual uncle, not the guy with the flag suit) played games with the kids. He would’ve taught me how the game was truly played, if doing that didn’t harm his chances of defeating the kids. He played with a rule that, if you built, you didn’t “get to roll.” It’s in quotes, because rolling dice is super fun for a kid, why wouldn’t you want to do it all the time? Well, the same reason jail is super sweet late game: movement is a liability. If you can build one house a turn and stay anchored, holy shit balls, do it! He’d also fake dice rolls, fast-move pieces and grab the dice to cover his tracks, not pay you rent if you didn’t ask for it immediately after he landed (whoops, already rolled, not paying now), and do what it took to win.

What a fuckin’ shitheel.

Nobody in the family talks to him anymore. Still, I learned about shrewdness from him. I also learned about cheating. Not the cookie-cutter black-and-white “cheating is wrong kids!” stuff you get from Sesame Street and after school specials. I got the more subtle, more real-world lesson: Cheating is fine, if you have no shame. If you get away with it, you have nobody but yourself to answer to. And it’s a truly wretched endeavor.

But Monopoly is an iconic piece of Americana. It has an interesting and storied history, and has become an internationally recognizable game played by millions. It has seen dozens of iterations, and decades of play-testing, and continues to be updated. The Luxury and Income Tax costs have changed to reflect the U.K. version, and a speed die has been added to current prints that, well, make the game go faster (It was used in the 2009 National and World Championships). Nearly everyone you know has played Monopoly at some point.

And nearly every last one of them has never played the original rules.

So it wouldn’t be until years later that I would finally get the full rules, and their importance for the game. Common complaints about Monopoly are 1)It’s boring, 2) It takes too long, 3) eliminating players sucks, 4) it’s completely random. There are more, but most are variations on those ideas. So let’s address house rules, and how some of them pertain to these complaints.

Free Parking money and double salary for landing on GO are common house rules. They add money to the system, and in a game where bankruptcy is the end condition, giving more money to players prolongs the game. A more nuanced change it makes is that cheaper Monopolies lose their potency, as their rents become more inconsequential. If the game goes long enough, there could be so much money that nobody’s going to go bankrupt, and nobody has the wherewithal to just stop. It’s the main reason gripes 1 and 2 exist. But kids love luck, and parents love a lack of mayhem, so keep those dice rolling!

Another rule that you’d have to be a sado-masochist to try to teach children is that of the auction. When a deed is landed on, and that person doesn’t want to buy it, the deed goes to auction. Without this, deeds don’t get purchased as quickly, and the game drags. Some savvy players will push the deed to auction even though they want it, so they can try to snag it cheap. Or they’ll try to finagle other players into buying it at higher prices to sap their opponents’ cash. But try to get a kid to sit still for that.

Did you know that there’s a reason there aren’t enough houses and hotels for every deed? That’s on purpose. There are 32 houses and 12 hotels in a Monopoly game (plus a couple extras for when your kids lose or swallow a couple of them). When they’re gone, they’re not available until someone sells houses or builds hotels to free some up. While we’re at it, properties must be built up evenly. When you build a house on a new monopoly, the next house has to be on one of the undeveloped deeds. The third must be on the remaining slot. Then it starts over. It’s a bit lofty an idea for a kid; some adults refuse to get it. My favorite tactic in Monopoly, when I can do it, is to obtain cheap monopolies, say the light blues and pinks or oranges, and the dark purples (brown in the new set) if I can, and buy as many houses as I can. Even if an opponent gets their monopoly, they can’t improve on it, and I just have to wait it out. But try explaining to a kid the those extra houses aren’t for sale, and no, they can’t have any even though other people do. Or if they have houses, but can’t have hotels, because they can’t build the one more house to get all their deeds to four, so hotels are out of reach. Then explain even building to them. Then listen to them yell about it not being fair. Then try not to eviscerate anyone in the household before blowing your own head off. Or hell, just take the other Monopoly set you have because the first one got wet or bit or something, and use those. It’s just going to be easier.

As for gripes 3 and 4, well, yes. Eliminating players sucks. Most Euro games don’t have player elimination, because making your friend sit out while everyone else gets to play sucks, or worse, they get to have fun elsewhere while everyone else is stuck in a game they don’t like and won’t quit for some weird reason (maybe they were taught as kids that quitting is bad, and the thought of leaving a game nobody likes is somehow the same as that). The game is random, but within a set of probabilities. Dice rolling frequency is basic knowledge any gamer should have, and it’s not too difficult to teach kids. Catan teaches it far better than Monopoly, but Monopoly applies it in a different, more tactile manner. And the official rules keep the game moving, allow for more interesting choices, and make the game a more “game-y” experience than most people remember from their youth.

But Monopoly remains the same at its core; get rich, reduce your opponents to bankruptcy, feel kind of awkward about it when you’re done. That hasn’t changed, and as my recent play-through with hard-core gamers and a hard-core rules update, it’s still exquisitely bitter-sweet. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.