With the right mix of people gaming can be a blast, but it only takes one to ruin the experience for everyone. Of the kinds of people I dread playing, there is one kind that utterly offends me. These are the players who consider themselves the most adept and experienced often at a particular game.

Jeremy Avery accurately dubbed these so-called experts The Jedi of Puerto Rico. These players have determined the optimal move for every gaming situation and they’re actually offended when the “incompetent” opposition makes a suboptimal move. They’ll grumble against, perhaps criticize, the “inferior” player who has messed up their plans or has inadvertently advantaged another. They’ll condescendingly provide instruction for proper thinking and future decision making. They’ll explain why their way is the way.

This egotistical persona is not limited to “the experts.” In some cases, you’ll have intelligent–even unintelligent–people who simply, convicted by their beliefs, argue against the move a player is about to make. I’m not talking about the friendly dispensing of advice either. I don’t mind table talk or even being offered suggestions. I do mind when a player continues to coerce me even after I’ve heard him out and indicated that I’m thoroughly satisfied with my own move.

I mean, who do these guys really think they are!? I was pretty sure I let them have their turns. Now that it’s mine, courteously permit me to think for myself.

I’ve played with coercing people whose won’t back down until their point has either been conceded or acted upon. There may even be merit to their advice. Regardless, I enjoy playing games for the opportunity to make my own decisions, to try them out, and to learn from them for myself. I’m willing to live with the consequences of my choices, good or bad. I don’t need somebody criticizing me for not taking their superior suggestion or becoming indignant because their best laid plans were hinged on my acting accordingly. There is no accordingly–only what I do or do not do–so long as I exhibit integrity, play honestly, and act sportsmanly.

Players who depend on players taking predictable actions are playing games in a fantasy world. It’s far too tricky to consistently and accurately predict the motivating forces and considerations by which people make their decisions. At best, one can develop a knack for anticipating other players, especially the familiar ones. All that withstanding, no one player has the right to expect anything other than good and proper conduct. None of this is changed by the fact that any player has played the game online a thousand times.

These whiners should stop grumbling and complaining and just play, or otherwise find a similar-minded group of players with which to play the optimal, predictable, auto-pilot version of the game. Or better yet, they ought program a few AI-bots to play the game just the way they like. Hopefully that preoccupation will allow us amateurs to play our games in peace.
Expect only a fair and level playing field

As a gamer I have very few expectations about what constitutes fair game play. I expect an honest game and a level playing field where no player has an undue advantage. Favoritism is one of the few things that corrupts an otherwise level playing field. Even if one’s chances of winning have gone to the wayside, to whack someone else’s troops to the deliberate benefit of one’s boyfriend is flat out wrong. Anyone would feel victimized by such blatantly-obvious external biases.

Yet, players can sometimes feel victimized by decisions that seem either arbitrary or biased by other suspect, external factors. The tell-tale sign that a player feels victimized is when he asks the antagonist, “why me?” or otherwise requests justification. There’s nothing wrong with asking, but even victimized players must understand that withholding information can be a necessary part of concealing strategy or of playing the metagame.

The antagonist is in no way obligated to defend his actions. It is possible, especially in an unfamiliar game, that a player’s moves are exploratory or even arbitrary. Because we can’t really know that someone is motivated by external biases, we owe everyone the benefit of the doubt.

Still, it’s easy to feel robbed when subject to the deciding play of a kingmaker. Normally, players ought play to their own direct (or indirect) benefit or to no one’s benefit at all. In this way, players explicitly exhibit their lack of bias. On the contrary, it’s not unfair for players to act on biases formed within the context of a game. How can the antagonist become indignant when his victim, at a deciding moment, hands victory to another? This sort of kingmaking mirrors real-world diplomacy.
Kingmaking ethics

Days before this article was scheduled to appear, I had a run in with kingmaking. I was playing a 5-player game of Hacienda using the combined variants. One other player and myself were leading the pack with one player between us in the seating order. My contender on his turn gained a sizeable lead; 3 animal cards remained. Realizing the situation I knew I had to catch or overtake his score lest he deplete the animal card supply and seal his victory. When my turn arrived, I was barely able to match his score. Had the two players to my left taken any animal cards he could have scored and ended the game. Fortunately, no cards were taken. On his next turn he increased his score by 7 points and took an animal card leaving just 2. Beautiful! I realized that I could on my next turn gain 9 points and end the game myself locking the win.

In my wildest dreams I never anticipated what would follow. The player between the leader and myself who had been trailing the whole game increased his score barely leaping out of last place–and then he ended the game. My sure-fire victory had been swindled! I incredulously asked, “Why in the world did you do that!?” His reply was that he didn’t want to finish in last place.

Had I ended the game, just as I had planned, he would have retained his exact position. In fact, he could have scored more points and gained yet another position. All he succeeded at doing was kingmaking, and I explained all this to him. In a funny way, I could see that he was proud of himself. He had a sort of half smile on his face when he quickly slapped down 4 bucks to purchase the last two animal cards. That half smile made his justification somewhat suspect. Plus, I felt further cheated because both he and the winner had had an extra turn.

I contemplated this very post in which I had commented on kingmaking even before this anecdote was added. The player who ended the game was completely within his rights for just the reason he cited. It seemed a weak reason, but of course I’m biased.

I’ve concluded one thing, however, about kingmaking and players who do it. The weaker the justification, the more unsavory the act. Personally, I would need a solid basis for kingmaking and would be prepared to justify it–a past vendetta or a much stronger finish, but certainly not a near-last-place finish. The justification for gaining so little exemplifies the most unsavory sort of kingmaking.

I remember participating in a Carcassonne tournament at the World Boardgaming Championships the year I got into gaming. In a field of five players, one had a substantial lead and couple of us followed. The leader and another way-behind player were duking it out on the farming frontier. In the last couple rounds it was clear that the farming contender needed a key tile to connect up his farmers and completely steal the massive farmland. In the last round that player didn’t draw the needed tile–but I did! I dubiously played it to the contender’s huge gain.

Well, you can imagine the exasperation of the leader. He was enraged and lectured me for my obviously stupid, kingmaking move. Not having calculated the entire unscored landscape but relying on my gut, I explained that I might win or at the very least dramatically improve my position. Well I didn’t win. But I did finish in second place ahead of the former leader and only a mere couple points behind the player whose farmer I connected. In discussing the game with the would-be winner afterwards, I clearly remember that with the light shed by the final scoring he did understand my position and so cast aside his hard feelings. He explained that he thought I was a clueless newbie who, for some arbitrary reason, handed victory to another.

This second anecdote further solidifies my point: the key to good kingmaking is in the justification. Arbitrary kingmaking with little-to-no shread of reason will be considered a rude, potentially unsportsmanlike, act. When kingmaking, at the very least, be prepared to explain yourself.

Thus far I’ve discussed the grounds for a level playing field. I’ve discussed the one thing that most every player detests: kingmaking. Yet, there is another form of aggression to which players hate being subject.

Players can be victimized because of their reputation, real or perceived. Although the reputable player may begrudge being attacked even when his chips are down, he has little cause for argument. It is completely reasonable and legitimate for people to play harder against opponents they deem more formidable.

Here ends a players rightful expectations. Other than keeping it honest players have every right to play as they see fit.
My objectives by my means

I’m free to determine my own objectives and their means. I could try a long shot at victory which, if it fails, will have dramatic consequence. I could play conservatively. I could play for position when I’ve conceded my chances of victory. I could attack the leader. Or I could step on a second- or third-place player en route to my goals. I could do something in one game and something completely different, and totally inconsistent in the next. Each and every decision I make belongs entirely to me. Though being subject to some of these things may feel unfair, each is as legitimate as the next. If you wish to offer advice, I’ll hear you out, but be willing to clam up and live with the consequences when I choose otherwise.

Games are full of different choices and approaches. Some appear better than others. Yet, no matter how much better one move looks than the next, there is rarely a cut-and-dry way to tell for sure. More than once I incredulously asked a player, “Why in the world did you do that?” who went on to win the game. We often see things so clearly for ourselves that we become blind to other perhaps better possibilities. Or in thinking we’ve grasped all the factors that matter, we ignore other subtle but relevant factors…
It’s more than just logic

In a game years ago, an intelligent friend of mine argued that my retaliatory attack on him for an earlier provocation wouldn’t advance me toward winning. After hearing his argument ad nauseam I opted to follow through with the attack. He had fixed in his mind that each and every decision ought be based purely on the logical path to winning. It didn’t matter if he provoked me a dozen times, so long as there was a better route to my victory or another player more likely to win, I had no right to return in kind.

Ridiculous!

This assumes that playing games is a matter of pure logic. However, since people not robots encircle game tables, there will always be a metagame that brings emotion and psychology into the mix. Making suboptimal moves if only to follow through with threats or promised responses, paints a portrait of the gamer. Exhibiting consistent follow through adds leverage to future promises and threats. These psychological and emotional elements that exist over the game board are part of an invisible-but-very-real metagame. In some ways, the metagame has greater strength and longevity than any single logical game that exists directly on the board. The metagame when played in familiar groups carries forward into each and every game.

I’m not a win-at-all-costs gamer. What I want from playing games is fun, a challenge, and to play a solid game. However, my version of a “solid” game has me using all of the tools at my disposal–some of those tools grounded in reason and logic and some grounded in emotion and psychology. Arguing that a game should be played only in and of itself is not a universal truth but a personal conviction. In my book, players may play by their own rules, for their own reasons, and by any style they wish.

Take Medici. During an auction, a player not in any of my commodities bids on the cards I want to “keep me honest” and to deflate their value. I have a choice to make. I can bid for the cards gaining marginal benefit or I can pass penalizing the price inflater.

I don’t care how you slice it, I’m playing “fair and square” no matter which choice I make. Taking the cards might increase my chances of winning–and it might not. There are no certainties. Even if the cards have retained a good margin of value it’s my right to choose. Don’t pout because I failed to do what you thought I must.
Pride is the root

Above all playing games is about people. No one person deserves to have fun at the expense of everyone else. And no one person should impose expectations on how others should play. People can be incredibly proud. I think that’s the heart of the matter.

In fact, in speaking of motivating factors, and the differences that make each person unique, I’ll mention one about myself. I admire humility and detest arrogance. When my tactical choices force me to choose between an arrogant player or some other player, you can guess the target of my attack.

I once played a game of Puerto Rico with a new group of people. I lost. When I returned home I read several of the online session reports and ultimately came across the report detailing that game. In it the victor spoke to the general incompetence of the opposition and how victory was handily attained. She cited her grasp of the importance of early money as though the rest of us were oblivious to this understanding. Now, I’m no schmuck, but the fact is Puerto Rico is a highly tactical game in which others can thwart your outright attempts to earn income.

Puerto Rico is a great product of the boardgaming hobby. Yet, its great popularity gave rise to many self-proclaimed experts. Though I greatly enjoy the game, it is the one game in which I’m most often subject to “expert” criticism.
Blather on but convey respect

Boardgaming is a tremendous hobby, but I learned long ago that playing games are only as fun as the group with which you play them. I’ve made some of the very mistakes about which I’ve spoken so I don’t mean to be too self-righteous or critical. No matter how many times you’ve played a game, no matter how dubious another player’s move appears, treat everyone with respect. Talk smack and offer advice to your heart’s content. Good-spirited table talk enriches gaming.

Just don’t become indignant because a player on his turn doesn’t do just what you think he should. Don’t coerce him even after he’s heard and declined your advice. And don’t condescend. You’ve had your turn already. Permit your fellow player the same courtesy.

UPDATE:
I recently discovered that we played Hacienda incorrectly. Regardless of which player depletes the animal deck, all players take the exact same number of turns.