The Abject Failure That Is Called "Gateway"

The Abject Failure That Is Called "Gateway"

We all have a story to tell. For many of us we're the star of the tale,for others it's about a friend, or a spouse, or a relative or maybe someone on a plane that looks over your shoulder as you're reading a rule book to something new. It's the story of someone getting hooked on exotic boardgames and seeing the light of just how immersive, how intellectually stimulating, how rewarding it can be to step out of the dark ages of Monopoly into a world enlightenment. We all have one, and it may be that you're actively trying to create a few more stories just like it.

Likely you're considering one of your stories right now. My personal favorite is my own personal entry into modern boardgaming, via what is in my opinion the best candidate for a gateway game you could ever think of -- The Queen's Necklace. Blind bidding, variable market valuation, dynamic ruleset based on cards in play, tons of hidden information, all the things you look for in a classic gateway game are there, except maybe for fiddly bits. Hang on, it has those too now that I think about it. It's a perfect gateway game, and once I played it, I had to have a copy.

That thin, thin slice of amusement is at the heart of the issue.

We classify games as "Gateway" because we think they will be accessible to the unwashed masses. They're pretty, they're simple, they're short and unimposing, and because we can imagine someone who isn't as "enlightened" as ourselves indulging in them and maybe even enjoying the play a bit we've decided that they will provide a bridge to the really good games, and that the journey across that bridge will be smooth and rewarding, at least for some subset of the people that we spend the time to educate. With care and an appropriate amount of nurturing, we can turn these people into gamers.

And so we play. We teach Ma Lost Cities or we give our nephew Ticket to Ride for Christmas. We drop Coloretto in the lap of people playing Rack-O in the hotel lobby. They try them out and . . . hallelujah! They enjoy it! They're in! They're making the journey! We bring our copies of Cartagena and Warrior Knights with us to the next family reunion, and when we offer to set up a game . . .

. . . Ok. At least they're polite about it. They smile and nod and indicate that the tile game with the towns and the roads was fine and that they really enjoyed it, but that's where they'd like it to end. You see, they didn't want to play a "gateway" game and in their mind they didn't. They played a "different" game, and they're comfortable letting it replace Parcheesi and Monopoly on the rare occasion that they sit down to play with friends or family. The new game is fine, but that's where it's going to end because they just don't want to spend the time learning a new game each time they sit down with you and any rules complications are just something they have no interest in or time for. One is enough.

Gateway just failed.  Again.

And fail it does, with remarkable predictability.  More than a few of you shake your head reading this, because even though this has happened to you any number of times, on occasion, and with some of the most surprising people, you've succeeded in making inroads. You've made the difference in someone's life! You've enlightened them and brought them into the inner circle of the gaming elite!

But that's exactly gateway's misconception, and the reason that The Queen's Necklace makes every bit as good a gateway game as the usual suspects do. On those rare occasions where the introduction of a more modern, complex game actually sticks, it's likely that the choice of game is of little consequence or none at all -- you've converted someone that was already standing in the doorway of the church, and your choice of hymm didn't really make a lot of difference either way. In fact selecting a softball may have actually been counterproductive.

Merely a theory? Sure. But Ticket to Ride has more than one million copies in print if the front of its box is to be believed. Agricola, generally touted as the cardboard incarnation of Jesus by the gaming elite, is rumored to be getting printed in groups of only 5,000 or so. Apparently Z-Man isn't expecting the unwashed masses to storm their doors, and for good reason. One million copies of Ticket to Ride likely means four million players of it, and if "gateway" worked, if T2R had led to the harder drugs, if even 1% of the uninitiated had become enlightened through our efforts to show them how much fun gaming can be, then surely sales for highly-regarded titles would be brisker. But they're not, and that just doesn't add up, especially since the two are similar in look, feel and target market. The transition from the entry-level to the advanced simply doesn't happen.

Is it because we're not trying hard enough, or is it because "gateway" doesn't exist? Gateway is a concept that we have talked ourselves into, but in reality it's nothing more than a thin piece of common ground that allows our friends and families to spend time with us enjoyably, or at least tolerably. They permit one title (maybe two) to enter into their world, provided they're simple enough, short enough, polite enough, and pretty enough to let them play without too much hassle or time. It's a thin little slice of something new, and that's all they're looking for. Gateway X was just a fun, accessible game to them, and that's where they want to stop. It's sufficient to scratch their mild itch, and maybe, just maybe, they were telling you that they sat down at the table to spend time with you, not the piece of cardboard on the table in between.

Sag.