« Blog

Peace, Love, Harmony, and Dad Jokes

Concordia is Latin for "harmony". This is apropos of nothing, except that I took two years of Latin in high school and I rarely get to use it, so I thought I'd share. Apropos of game night, it was my night to pick and I wanted to play Concordia.

This space intentionally left blank

This is the spot in my post where I typically slap in a big yet poorly angled photo of the game box. Concordia's box cover is next-level awful. Like, it's famous for how bad it is. It keeps people away. It's best you don't see it.

Concordia is one of my favorite games. I've wanted to play it with the Fun Group for over a year. But I always end up picking something else. Mostly because I suspect they'll hate it and it'll be painful and it will hurt me. But then Workman made me play Sporadicus. So, you know, payback. (Sporadicus is Latin for "payback".)

Concordia board

Look at that board! And those wooden houses! And those resource-spewing cities! What's not to love?

Two minutes in to the rules explanation, Workman asked about combat. Steve asked how you blow up someone else's warehouse. I don't think they know what "harmony" means, in any language.

But the rules are simple (one of the selling points of the game) and we were playing in no time. I made the mistake of sitting to the left of Workman, which meant he took my moves every turn. If I wanted cards, he Senatored. If I wanted cash, he reverse Prefected. Without fail. Even in harmony, I hate him so very much.

My harmonious little green warehouse

My harmonious little green warehouse.

Workman was head-down and focused the whole game. Once Steve figured out what "two types of goods" actually meant, he was off and running as well. Leon seemed to be building little red houses every turn. Everyone seemed to be doing well. Everyone except me.

One of my favorite things about Concordia is the fact that there is only one scoring round and it happens at the very end. You really have no idea how well you are doing. But I knew. I knew I wasn't getting spread out across the board, I knew I wasn't getting any bang for my buck in Minerva cards, and I knew Workman bought the Weaver. (So very much hatred). I wasn't sure who was winning, but I knew I was losing.

I've noticed something about myself. No matter how many times I've played a game, if I'm teaching it, I don't do well. I don't know if I'm too focused on making sure everyone else knows what to do, or if I'm worried they won't have a good time, or if I just can't multi-task, but I very often finish dead last when I teach a game to the group. Tonight was no exception.

My little green boat colonist. She did good work.

My little green boat colonist. She did good work.

No matter. I still love this game. I love the simple ruleset and the action cards. I love the hint of deck-building and set collection. I love saying "Prefectus Magnus" (which is not, as one might assume, a Roman porn movie.)

I don't think the guys loved it, or even liked it much. They did well...Workman won with 120 points (then demanded to know if that was the highest score I'd ever seen), Steve finished second with 100, and Leon and I tied for last with 84.

I enjoy games where you do a thing or build a thing better than everyone else, but you don't necessarily blow them up in the process. The guys prefer cutthroat, conflict-driven, political games. But despite differing preference, I don't think any of us would ever refuse to play a game that one of us wanted to play. We all, quite literally, will play anything. I like that about us.

After our bout of peace, love, and harmony, we played Love Letter. I won. And I won in a head-to-head finale with Workman where I wanted to draw the Baron, NEEDED to draw the Baron, and actually drew the Baron. Good times. #poundforpoundthebestgameyoucanbuy

And, I almost forgot, I told the best dad joke EVER. Why did the blind man fall into the well? Because he didn't see that well.

You lol'd. You know you did.

Thanks for reading! Happy gaming!