This post began as an afterword to an unboxing post looking at a recent acquisition, Blue vs Gray Deluxe Edition (GMT Games, 2003). I was considering the fact that this
game, which I bought second-hand, had probably been bought with every intention
of play. Yet it looked untouched when took possession of it. Below is what I originally
wrote in the Blue vs. Gray unboxing:
A game this old that remains on a shelf,
unpunched and pristine, tells its own story. I’m under no illusions that there’s
a good chance this copy of Blue vs Gray came from a deceased estate. The online store I bought it from specialises
in these kinds of bulk purchases.
When I was younger, I couldn’t imagine buying a
game and not immediately on arrival home, opening it up, examining the map and
the pieces, maybe even giving the rules a cursory glance before punching out
the units and starting to push some counters around. These days we might call
it “active learning,” or learning by doing. Now I think about it, I don’t have
a single shelf of shame – my games are spread over several locations and some
surfaces – but I must have around two dozen games yet to be punched. It’s a
slippery slope.
I could feel myself being drawn down the rabbit hole by a coupe of competing tensions, including the futility of attempting anything in the face of annihilation; not the sort of thing that belongs in an unboxing post (with the possible exception of the one that made Pandora famous). In the end I decided to carve of this line of thinking and give the notion it's own post to run around in.
Where this all started.
I’m not
a collector; I get some satisfied joy from owning the games I own, but I bought every one
of them with the explicit intention of playing them at some future date. When it
comes to games, I’m an examiner. I don’t think the shrink wrap has stayed on a
game in my possession for more than twenty-four hours before I broke it open to
paw the components and take at least a cursory look at the rules. but more and
more often, a game arrives, and I’ll make that initial examination the contents
and rulebook, but then it gets relegated to a space on a shelf, in the wardrobe,
or the end of my desk, filed next to some nebulous idea of getting to playing
it sometime soon...
If I’m honest
with myself, this behaviour isn’t new. I began writing A Fast Game in part to
hold myself to account in an effort to play more games I already owned. Back
then, I don’t think I owned a single game that was unpunched or unstickered, or
otherwise not ready to grab off the shelf and set up to play. I’m not sure when
that started to change exactly, but I think it must have been about two years
ago. Unboxings were more of an occasional feature of the blog when I began, but
they are a popular feature, and I get positive feedback on them, so they’ve become more common. These days I tend to hold
off punching a game until I’ve at least photographed the components. This has
created a backlog, and now I have at least twenty-three games I can think of
that I haven’t got to properly cracking yet, with another four in-coming in
the next month or so* (while writing this post, I received notice of the
imminent arrival of a copy – my copy – of Cuius Regio (GMT Games,
2026)). I’m going to try to lift my game with the unboxings, although I will likely skip
the bigger games that are already receiving a lot of attention.
This is
all peripheral, though, to what’s been on my mind. Unpunched games are a kind
of a marker of something greater. As I mentioned, the place that I bought the
copy of Blue vs Gray that I now own handles a lot of deceased estates. While
they post a lot of obviously second-hand games, more and more boxed games
appearing in their catalogue are not just unpunched, but still in their
shrink-wrap. I don’t have a problem with the source of these games – I think
most of the previous owners would be pleased if they knew their collection was
getting a second life. But it’s a lot. It’s an awful lot of games that were
bought (presumably) but never even gazed upon.
Recent arrivals. More grist for the anxiety mill.
Due to current circumstances, mortality and its implications are lately never far
from my thoughts. I’ve been thinking a lot about my own collection, and how many
games I still haven’t played (I haven’t crunched the numbers lately, but I think
I’m sitting a little above 30% played). This has kept me awake at night. I wondered
whether I should just sell any game that remained unpunched for more than a
couple of months. I thought about just cancelling thee couple of dozen
preorders I have standing, and a few other options as well. But as I jumped
through these hoops, I came to realise that I wasn’t addressing the issue, just
the evidence. I was busy with the noise, trying to ignore the signal.
I will
someday die. I hope that eventuality doesn't occur for a while, and that in the meantime I will get
to play some of those games I haven’t got to the table yet. And that I’ll get
to spend time with people who I respect and whose company I enjoy, and to drink some good wines, and that I’ll get
to read all those books I’ve been hording in anticipation of retirement. In nearly
all cases, the end-point is inevitable, but not defined. Every unplayed game,
every unread book, every pencilled-in catch-up with friends is an expression of hope in the
face of an indeterminate but unavoidable termination-point.
I'm sure I’ve related this story on the blog elsewhere, but it’s a good story so it’s
worth repeating. The late writer and semiotician Umberto Eco possessed a
library of over 30,000 volumes. Sometimes visitors to his library would ask
him, “Umberto, have you read all of these books?” Often he would grace the questioner with an astonished look, and reply, “What would be the point of a library full
of books I’ve already read?”
So, hereon in, this is going to be my attitude to my game library; what would be the point of only owning a shelf full of games you’ve already played? Well, okay, it’s not quite the same – of course there are dozens of games that I‘ll happily replay, ust as there are books I will no doubt read again, but I’m also content to own games that I’ll get to eventually, given time. Or not. It’s taken me a while to get here, but this is where I am now. I wouldn't say I'm completely anxiety-free, but I believe I am more sanguine regarding my collection.**
An unplayed game is an
opportunity for a new experience, maybe even a shared experience, and one
shouldn’t be ashamed of their Shelf of Shame. I don’t think I really like the
term Shelf of Opportunity, but whatever works. Everyone’s journey is different.
I hope that stack of untended games doesn’t stay unpunched for too long, but I’m
not going to lose any more sleep over them. If there’s a game I don’t get to
play, I hope somebody will take up the mantle. I’m not trying to be morbid. I
just think it would be a shame if others should also get to have some fun.
* Along with Cuius Regio, I'm expecting Coast Watchers: Allied Field Intelligence in the South Pacific, 1942-1943 (GMT Games, 2026), Brandywine: A Time for Heroes (Les 3 Zouaves, 2026) and 1809: Talavera (Tactical Workshop, 2026), all within the next month or so.
** There is, of course the very real tension between the growing collection and the limits of available storage space, but we'll have t tackle that in a future post.
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