As anyone who ever played the Atari 2600 version of E.T. will testify, games based on movies tend to suck. And nowhere is this more evident than the world of board games, where every blockbuster harbingers a remainder shelf at Kaybee Toys filled with hastily thrown together “Game Of Life” knockoffs rechristened with the movie’s title. You can always spot a crappy movie adaptation, because it feels obligated to mention that it’s a game right on the box, presumably so you don’t confuse it with a key lime pie. Behold Titanic: The Board Game (Typical review: “Must…not…swallow…own…tongue…”), Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone Quidditch Card Game (typical review: “Broken.”) and The Hours: The Board Game (Typical review …. okay, I made this one up).

Still, every once in a while we get lucky. Such is the case with Lord of the Rings: The Confrontation, a new offering from Fantasy Flight Games. This is not to be confused with the original Lord of the Rings game by the same company. Unlike its Big Brother, Lord of “The Rings: The Confrontation” (hereafter “LotR:C”) is strictly a two-player game, has a third of the rules of the bigger game, plays in a fraction of the time and sells for half the price. But the two games do share one thing in common: they are both amongst the best in my collection.

The central mechanic in LotR:C will be familiar to anyone who has ever played Stratego. The board, which depicts 16 regions of Middle Earth, is positioned diagonally between the two players, so that the person playing “Light” has The Shire in his corner while “Dark” has Mordor in his. The combatants each have nine unique pieces, which they place into their own territories any way they chose. As in Stratego, the “faces” of the pieces show who they are, but the backs — the sides visible to the opponent — are nondescript. Once the forces are arrayed, the battle begins.

On a turn, a player may move one of his pieces one step forward. Because the regions are staggered, brick-style, this usually means that an advancing piece has two territories to choose from. Unless the moved character now resides in a space occupied by an enemy, the player ends his turn. But if both Light and Dark pieces inhabit the same area, a brawl erupts.

Combat is fairly simple. First, both players reveal who is involved in the battle. Because each character has a special power, identifying the warriors is often enough to determine a winner. For example, Gimli’s power is “Instantly defeat the Orcs,” so if the dwarf is revealed and the Orcs prove to be his sparring partner, that’s as far as you go: Orcs dead.

If the fight continues, both players chose a card from their hand and reveal them simultaneously. Most of the cards have numbers on them (from 1-6), and the value of a played card is added to the charatcer’s “Strength” (indicated by a digit on the charatcer’s piece) to determine his combat total. The piece with the lowest total loses and is removed from the game.

All in all a pretty hum-drum system, I’m sure you’ll agree. But what makes LotR:C such an addictive little gem is the asymmetrical nature of the contest. For starters, both players have different goals: the Light player is trying to get Frodo all the way across the board and into Mordor; the Dark player, in turn, just wants Frodo whacked. Secondly, the Dark player has much more raw power than the Light player — higher valued cards, numerically stronger characters, etc. — but the Light player, by virtue of some special cards and character powers — has more tricks up his sleeves. In other words, the Dark player wins through force, the Light player wins through guile, just as you’d want a game based on The Lord of the Rings to play out.

Furthermore, the powers of the pieces are remarkably well suited for the characters they correspond to. Boromir is a time bomb: when he gets in a fight he automatically loses, but he takes the opponent down with him. Sam is generally weak, but if he’s in the same space as Frodo his strength more than doubles. Frodo is useless in a fight, but, when threatened, he can flee to an adjacent territory. The Balrog, meanwhile, defends Moria — anyone who tries to go through the mines is immediately defeated if the Balrog is in the house. And the Flying Nazgul can attack any piece anywhere on the board.

Best of all, the atmosphere of the epic is recreated by the game: Light seems doomed from the get-go, and most victories by the good guys are Pyrrhic in nature. In the last game I played, for example, I threw Sam to the wolves — the Wargs, actually — so that Frodo could move one more step towards Mordor. When you win as Dark, you have to resist to urge to cackle evilly and gloat about your dominance; when you win as Light, your first impulse will be to sigh with relief and wipe the sweat off your brow.

Lord of the Rings: The Confrontation has rapidly become one of my favorite games. I honestly don’t know how long I’ll be playing it — it’s entirely possible that I’ll “burn out” on it in a month or so — but right now I’m itchin’ to play it at every opportunity. It’s thirty bucks, it’s available through Funagain, and it’s the perfect pastime for the long months until The Return of the King hits the theaters in December. You should get it.

Sam Loyd’s “Trick Donkeys” is one of the most elegant puzzles ever invented, and if you’ve never seen it before, I urge you to give it a shot. Click on the image to the left, print out the page, and cut the figure into three parts along the solid lines. Now, position the strip onto the other two pieces so that it looks like each jockey is riding a donkey. Folding is not allowed.

This puzzle was created by one of America’s greatest puzzlists, Sam Lloyd (1844 -1911). Loyd sold his puzzle to P. T. Barnum, who marketed it as “P. T. Barnum’s Trick Mules.” It was printed on a card to be cut into the three pieces. Millions of the cards were sold, and supposedly Loyd earned a fortune — $10.000 — in just a few weeks.

Don’t give up — the solution is really quite simple! If you must, you can see the answer here.

Remember when Dale Earnhardt was killed, and NASCAR fans were mopy for months thereafter? That’s what board game enthusiasts are like today.

In the world of ludology, Sid Sackson was a pioneer, with scores of card and board game to his credit. One of his first (and most highly regarded) games was Acquire, a stock market simulation that is to Monopoly what Citizen Kane is to an episode of Becker. I distinctly remember playing Acquire in my youth and realizing that this particular game was on a completely different level than the Paydays and Operations I had played in the past.

In the years to follow, Sackson would design a series of fantastic games, including many of my personal favorites: Can’t Stop, Kohle, Kies, & Knete, and Focus, one of the first games I ever owned. His book A Gamut of Games is a treasure trove of enjoyable pastimes and brilliant ideas. And by all accounts he was also a really nice guy.

Sid Sackson passed away yesterday at the age of 82. His collection of over 10,000 board games will be auctioned off next week.

What the hell? I wrote a rave review about Puerto Rico and basically called it the best thing since the invention of the pluot, and not a single one of you went out and bought it? You are so disappointing. I mean, okay, I kind of see your point: few of you are avid board game players like myself, so the prospect of buying (much less learning and teaching) a game with 700 rules and twice that many pieces might have seemed a bit daunting. Perhaps you need to be eased into this hobby. So let me make another suggestion: purchase Royal Turf. Now! Do it! Actually, Royal Turf, while a very enjoyable game, isn’t worthy of such exhortations. But if you’ve been toying with the idea of trying out these “Designer Games” I’m always rambling on about, this might be exactly what you’re looking for.

Let’s start with the bad news: The rules that accompany Royal Turf are in German. But it doesn’t matter, honest Native American. You can easily find an English translation on the web (tah-dah!), and since the game is about British horse racing, the names of the horses (the only text on the game components) are English: Albino, Earl Gray, Othello, etc. So don’t let that stop you. The good news is that Royal Turf is very simple to learn, plays in under and hour, and is small enough to fit on the table of a tavern.

The game consists of three races, and each race has three phases: the Betting Phase, the Racing Phase, and the Payout. Before each race, a Movement Card is revealed for each horse, and the animals are queued up at the start of a 33-space racetrack. Each player also receives three betting chips. During the Betting Phase, players place their Betting Chips on the horses of their choice. Players must use all of their chips and cannot bet more than once on a single horse, so at the end of the Betting Phase everyone will have wagered on three of the seven contenders.

And they’re off! During the Racing Phase, each player in turn rolls a special die, and then movies one of the horses forward a specified amount. The die has a Horsehead icon on three of its sides, with the other sides bearing a Horseshoe, a Saddle and a Jockey’s Cap. The Movement Cards show how far each stallion advances for each of the four symbols. The Card for “Sahara Wind,” for example, might indicate that he advances 3 spaces on a Horsehead, 9 spaces on a Cap, 5 spaces for a Saddle and 7 spaces for a Horseshoe. After rolling the die, the player may choose which horse he wishes to advance. Once a horse has moved, his Movement card is pushed aside to indicate that it cannot move again; after all horses have been used, the Cards are restored to their original places and each is again eligible for movement.

The race ends when the third horse crosses the finish line, at which time the horse currently in last place goes to the Losers Box. Each player who bet on a winning horse receives money, dependent on what place the horse came in and how many other players bet on the same horse.

Everyone who bet on the Losing Horse must pay $100 to the bank. After three races, the player with the most money wins.

There are plenty of fun decisions to be made in Royal Turf. After rolling, deciding to move one of your own horses a long distance or moving an opponent’s horse a few spaces is always an agonizing choice (and the other players will cheerfully badger you with their opinions on the matter). Because a moved horse cannot advance again until all the horses have been used, moving an opponent’s stallion forward “1” can seriously hurt their chances of winning. The betting Phase also entails some tough choices. Betting on a popular horse means you’ll get less money if the horse wins, but it also makes a win much more likely.

There’s not a ton of strategy in Royal Turf, but certainly enough to make for an interesting 45 minutes. Best of all, the game, while nowhere near an actual simulation of horse racing, does a good job of recreating the track atmosphere: you’ll find yourself cheering for your favorite pony and groaning with dismay when he’s hobbled by an opponent. Simple rules combined with a popular theme makes this a perfect game for families or groups of friends who just want something to do while sipping beer at the local brewhouse. If you have any interest in games but have been hesitant to take the plunge, Royal Turf would be an excellent place to start.

An entry for Tim of Mooselessness, who is apparently on the verge of buying Puerto Rico.

I have been a board game enthusiast all my adult life, but the thrill, as they say, is largely gone. When I returned from the Peace Corps in 1997 and started collecting modern board games, each one I bought was a wonder to me, full of innovative mechanics and fascinating ideas. It helped that the first few games I purchased were among the best ever made: Manhattan, Modern Art, and the sublime Settlers of Catan. But since that time I have played scores of games, and its become ever more difficult to impress me. I enjoy board games as much as I ever have, but it’s rare that I encounter one that fills me with the rush of admiration I felt for those first few. Still, occasionally a game will come along that manages to overcome my indifference and knock my socks off. El Grande did it, Euphrat & Tigris did it, Princes of Florence did it, and now I have been wowed by Puerto Rico.

In Puerto, each person begins play with his own “player mat” — a small map of the island divided into an upper and lower half. The bottom portion is for plantations, of which there are six types: Corn, Indigo, Sugar, Tobacco, Coffee and Quarries. The first five produce agricultural goods; the Quarries enable you to purchase buildings for cheaper. Buildings, placed in the upper part of the player mat, come in two types: Production Buildings (which allow you to refine your agricultural output) and violet Special Buildings. The object of the game is to acquire the most victory points, which is primarily acheived by shipping goods to the Old World, and by constructing buildings (each of which is worth some measure of points).

Players must manage two other resources. Plantations and buildings do not “work” unless they are manned by Colonists: plantations lacking a Colonist do not produce agricultural goods (or, in the case of the Quarries, do not reduce the cost of buildings), while buildings lacking a Colonist do not do whatever they are designed to do. Players will also earn doubloons throughout the game, which are used to purchase buildings.

Puerto Rico is played over a series of rounds, during which each player takes a turn. On a turn the Active Player chooses one of the seven Role Cards, and then every player (starting with the Active Player) gets to take the Action associated with that role. The Active Player also gets a Privilege — the opportunity to do a little more than everyone else. The Roles are:

This is my favorite puzzle.

You have Some Terminal Condition, which necessitates taking two pills a day: one Pill A and one Pill B. If you neglect to take either pill, you die; if you take more than one A or more than one B, you die. If you don’t take them at exactly the same time, you die.

This morning you are going through you usual routine. You pick up your bottle of A Pills and gently tap one into your palm. Then you pick up your bottle of B Pills and tap it, but two pills accidentally fall into your hand. You now hold three pills (one A and two Bs), you don’t know which are which, and they are completely indistinguishable from each other. The A Pills are the same color as the B Pills, they are the same shape, same size — they are identical in every respect. Man, your doctor is a dumbass. But he’s a rich dumbass, because he’s charging you $10,000,000 a pill! So you dare not throw any away.

Thus, the puzzle: what can you do to ensure that you take only one A Pill and only one B Pill today, without wasting any pills (either today or in the future)?

No answer will be provided here, because this puzzle is so neat that I want you to actually think it over and figure it out. It took me a few days of off and on thought but I eventually got it.

A few years ago I invented a card game called Corporation, the rules of which I posted to my little-read website Acesup.com. As far as I knew no one ever saw it, much less played it. But last night, while egosurfing on Google, I discovered a French translation of the rules, accompanied by a five-star review and a PDF file featuring a specialized deck for the game. Great leapin’ cats!

Now that I realize that I have created the Greatest Game Since Mousetrap, I feel obligated to share it with you, the defective yeti Reading Public. However this game does not come free; oh no. If you actually play Corporation, you must write me afterwards with comments and suggestions on the play of the game. You will alos want to write me because, after playing Corporation with your buddies, I may be the only friend you have left.

Corporation

Hey, what are you doing next weekend? Nothing?! Lame.

• Where to buy a kickball.
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• How to invite your friends over to play kickball.