As I’ve journeyed through the world of board games and tasted the flavors and smelled the smells and seen the sights that everyone is familiar with (Settlers, Ascension, Ticket to Ride, Lords of Waterdeep, etc.) I’ve developed a sense for what to expect from a game. It’s not that I judge a book by its cover, but more like I know how a jacket would feel on my shoulders before putting it on – or how a pair of shoes will fit by looking at them on the rack. It’s not often that a game surprises me.
If you’ve never heard the term “Alpha Gamer”, I’ll define it
for you here. An Alpha Gamer is the guy or gal who tells you when it’s your
move, what your moves could be, what the best move is, and whether or not you’re
doing the right thing. These things are usually accompanied by a steady stream
of comments about the game – sometimes table talk, sometimes just annoying
feedback better left in a job-performance review. You know somebody like this.
Heck, you could be thinking of me right now, I’ve certainly been guilty of it
in my playgroup.
The number one thing I love about Hanabi – it COMPLETELY
eliminates alpha gaming, which is a HUGE deal for a co-operative game, the type
that most often breaks down into a single player “leading” and others standing
by as human piece-moving machines. There are two reasons this is true:
1) Information isn’t available to all players. Because
I can’t see my own hand, I can’t tell you what your best move is, which means I
have to constantly think about how to set YOU up for success, based on information
I have that you don’t have.
2) The rules prohibit a startling amount of information
from being shared. Even if I know what the best play for you is, I’m not
allowed to tell you.
Every turn I'm allowed to give one piece of information
to another player, a “clue” – I can reach across the table and touch another
player’s cards, indicating that they’re either a specific number, or a specific
color.
Here’s the catch – I can’t just pick one card. I have to describe all the cards that fit the description I’m using. If you’ve got four 1’s of four different colors, I have to point to all four of them. If you’ve got a hand full of green cards, I can’t pick only one. This means clues are used pretty specifically to signal when a player should play or discard a card. Discarding a card is the only way to regenerate clues, of which we're given only eight for the entirety of the game. If eight seems like a lot, think again; most of the game is played under pressure created by the need to discard cards, often blindly, to regenerate clues.
Here’s the catch – I can’t just pick one card. I have to describe all the cards that fit the description I’m using. If you’ve got four 1’s of four different colors, I have to point to all four of them. If you’ve got a hand full of green cards, I can’t pick only one. This means clues are used pretty specifically to signal when a player should play or discard a card. Discarding a card is the only way to regenerate clues, of which we're given only eight for the entirety of the game. If eight seems like a lot, think again; most of the game is played under pressure created by the need to discard cards, often blindly, to regenerate clues.
Keep the above in mind while I give you the final details –
there are a limited number of each card in each color (to be expected), and
since we’ve got to build each colored stack from 1-5, in order, if a player
discards a card that we’d need later, that stack is now doomed to be worth
less at the end of the game. If that’s not enough pressure, if a player
attempts to play a card and the card isn’t a legal play – meaning it’s not the next
number, in sequence, on its color’s stack – then the “fuse” on the fireworks
burns a little more. Three missed plays make the fireworks go off early, and the team’s
score is the total of the highest card on each stack. If players manage to
avoid an early finale, the game ends with a single extra round after the deck
runs out of cards.
The game is made for 2-5 players, and is equally enjoyable
with any number. I was impressed by how fun it was with just my wife and I
playing – it felt like doing a puzzle together, but one where we could each see
pieces the other couldn’t. We play a ton of games together, and this was a new
experience we enjoyed, particularly because we know we’re good at solving
puzzles (the car we won in a scavenger hunt is proof of that) and we enjoy the
challenge.
If you’ve got kids, I think this would be a pretty neat way
to teach critical thinking skills. Even as an adult and a lover of logic
puzzles, it isn't easy for me to recognize the best play, or the cleanest path
to victory. Hanabi requires forward thinking, listening skills, and logical
reasoning, each in large amounts - perfect for developing the minds of our young, adventurous companions.
It says a lot to me that I’m thinking about a $15 card game
a week after I’ve played it. It fits squarely into my current rotation of GREAT
card games – Love Letter, Council of Verona, Coup, and now Hanabi. Pick it up
if you’re a lover of logic problems, or if you want a new, surprisingly elegant puzzle to
enjoy with your family and friends.
JR Honeycutt is a full-time husband and game-player, and co-host of The Nerd Nighters. You can find him on Twitter at @JayAhre or at a Friendly Local Game Store in Dallas/Fort Worth, Texas.
Rawr, nerdnight I am learning this.
ReplyDeleteWill do! Or tomorrow night!
ReplyDelete