Oh how I do so agree with Emily Watkins in her article on participatory games (The hill I will die on: Games are the opposite of fun, and I’d ban them for anyone over 12, 1 August). Do people not know and appreciate the sentiments of the poem Leisure by WH Davies, which begins with: “What is this life if, full of care, / We have no time to stand and stare”? Why the restless urge to pursue some activity with others rather than engage in the art of conversation or simply enjoy the pleasure of one’s own company?
My local park, which is a lovely green space with a duck pond and where I like to walk with my dog most days, is taken over on a Sunday morning by folk engaging in a parkrun. Help ma boab, whatever next? They can’t even manage to canter around on their own if that be their thing. Oh no, it has to be an organised event in the company of others, with stewards shouting encouragement to them as they circumnavigate the park following each other like lemmings. No wonder Anthony Newley sang Stop the World – I Want to Get Off.
Janet Knowlson
Perth
Anyone who professes to hate games in any shape or form has clearly been subjected to the worst kinds: interminable games of Monopoly at Christmas (with the wrong rules), Trivial Pursuit with family members who seem to know everything, and Cards against Humanity – a race to the bottom of rudeness and impropriety.
Modern, simple tabletop games are the ultimate ice-breaker and way to make bonds in this digital age. No one needs to feel inferior or superior; for many people they are just a great way to spend an hour or two with friends and family. Try Flip 7, Just One or Wavelength for entertaining, accessible modern games.
Peter Hazlewood
Calne, Wiltshire
I appreciate Emily Watkins’ clearly tongue-in-cheek lack of appreciation for competitive games, but I am moved to reply particularly since you used table tennis to illustrate her article.
I am by no means a fitness freak, but I’ve been playing table tennis all my life. I now play a few times a week at a top club where I would be considered only average. Table tennis is one of the few sports where men and women can compete on a level playing field. And this is also true of age groups. I am often beaten by players as young as 10 who are likely to go on to international standard if they continue with this wonderful sport.
I have made 100 new friends at my club. This is exercise which doesn’t feel like exercise. It’s not a chore because it is fun and social. Don’t give up, people. Find the thing you enjoy and it will keep you so very well.
Martin Macarthur
Chertsey, Surrey
I moved to a new country 15 years ago. I’ve worked here, studied here, even been for coffee and wine here. Yet it was only in the last six months, after meeting a new couple of friends over a beer, and being introduced to playing board games together, as adults, that connecting with people actually felt effortless.
I thoroughly enjoyed it, but only now, reflecting on this article, do I understand that that first game wasn’t the point. It broke down barriers, allowed us to relax, and to enjoy something that one of us sitting at that table was genuinely passionate about. It let us interact without the pressure that conversation alone can often bring. Those acquaintances soon became friends, and we have continued to play games since.
At a time when many people are still struggling to build meaningful relationships after the disruption of the pandemic, it seems a shame to dismiss something that has helped so many people find community. Board games don’t replace conversation, but rather help create the conditions for it. They provide common ground for strangers, especially those of us who find small talk difficult or who are building a life far from where they grew up. That has been my experience.
Games aren’t for everyone, and that’s perfectly fine. But portraying them as the opposite of genuine human connection ignores the experience of many of us who have found exactly the opposite to be true.
James Stanier
Helsinki, Finland
I could not agree more with Emily Watkins. I pale at the idea of games because I am not competitive – except perhaps intellectually or at the sport of shared dreams, thoughts, sentiments, laughter, exploring humility, being human with another person. If I turn up at a table with others, it is not to offload the moment for something artificial and trivial, it is to learn more about the life and experience of others and thereby better contextualise and appreciate my own.
Elizabeth Barbour
Roanoke, Virginia, US
