Going overboard

An instant fix for boredom was resorting to board games to while away time. The use of the past tense implies such activities seem to have passed their sell-by date. However, it was heartening to revisit the excitement and argument during a recent family gathering.

Two generations were represented; the younger reacting to the suggestion with a widening of the eyes and an exchange of disbelieving looks among cousins. One could almost 'hear' their thoughts which seemed to label their elders as pathetic figures with antiquated ideas when it came to entertainment.

The only way to counter their ennui was to challenge them by commenting that they didn't have it in them to excel in such sport. The gauntlet laid down, there was a brief moment before their assent was gained. One of the games named 'Taboo' required guessing a particular word hinted at by a player who was free to use other words to provide a description. But the use of other forms of the same word was taboo. Gestures were also forbidden, making the task of conveying the meaning particularly difficult for those whose conversation was generally accompanied by rapid hand movement.

There was a timer but the first seeds of discord were sown when one team suddenly realised that their one minute seemed to be running out rather fast. The discovery of time 'fixing' by an overturning of the timer much before the time actually ran out generated a bitter dispute, with accusations flung at each other and furious denials. And no, it wasn't the young ones who were the most vociferous. Some of the most vocal criticism came from those who were supposedly older and wiser.

In fact, the manipulation resulted in a taking of sides, with dissent within the teams as family members were split evenly between the two sides. This was clearly a case of misguided loyalties, with some swiftly changing sides in the argument when it became apparent that a particular team seemed to have won a moral victory.

After about 15 minutes of interrupted play, realisation dawned that there was a game to be completed. A truce was declared and an arbiter was appointed. The only problem was that this judge happened to be related to everyone in the room.

Further arguments

As play resumed and further arguments erupted, it seemed that this venerable gentleman couldn't please anyone. Every judgment he pronounced thereafter was met with cries of nepotism, depending on whom he had favoured. When play could not be resumed because of the clamour, there was an appeal to switch games before there was any blood drawn.

The next option was Scattergories, a high tech version of a game played in childhood where one painstakingly drew columns on sheets of paper torn out of old exercise books. Now everything was printed, pencils were provided and one threw dice to decide on which alphabet to start the list with. There seemed to be no way that this could degenerate into a brawl. When we played this aeons ago, one of the players recited the alphabet, stopping at a particular letter at the behest of others. There were cries of dismay if this happened to be X. Try thinking of a place's name with X and you'll know what I mean. Especially if you happen to be less than ten years old!

Surely we were old enough now not to fall back into old habits. Or that's we thought. But as we raced against the clock to list 12 items in various categories, there were insidious attempts to pull the wool over others' eyes. Some of the answers were so obviously concocted but defended steadfastly when their validity was questioned. Imagination was kickstarted and lying came naturally to lips more accustomed to never being doubted.

I must sadly admit here that the evening ended not in camaraderie but in chaos, the game all but forgotten as the air grew thick with insults and accusations flowing fast and furiously.