With another year of tabletop gaming behind me, it’s time to look back on my 2025 at the game table. I wrote up a similar post last year, for comparison, which you can find here. And as with last year, I logged my plays in the Board Game Stats app.
Summary Statistics
I squeezed in a lot more gaming this year, totaling 330 plays. I think this is due to two things. First, I was a much more regular attendee at my weekly game group, and second, I played many more games online this year. The latter was driven in part by a dear gaming friend who moved out of the country in January, which led us to keep a pretty continuous stream of asynchronous games going on Board Game Arena. In total, I played exactly half of my logged games online, mostly on BGA or Yucata.
My biggest month for games was March, when I played 37 games, but I also hit 36 plays in August and October. In total, I played 154 different titles this year, exactly 100 of which I played once. I’m very fortunate to be part of a gaming group that likes sharing new games with each other, and this brings a lot of variety to our table.
Fives and Dimes
Of the games that hit the table more than once in 2025, the pattern looks a bit similar to last year’s. I played one quarter (25+ plays), two dimes (10+ plays), and 11 nickels (5+ plays):
I won’t go through every game at the top of this year’s list, but I do want to comment on some notable appearances:
No surprise, Mottainai again tops my list. It is one of Carl Chudyk’s designs that feature multi-use cards (along with the outstanding Glory to Rome, Innovation, and others), and the one major downside shared by all of these designs is a challenging teach. Using the same cards in multiple ways can be hard to grasp for new players, and it takes quite a while to get into the game. However, once players have the hang of things, games typically breeze by, but it’s hard to get over the hump. Fortunately, the lovely community of players on Yucata make it possible to pick up a quick game anytime.
Also unsurprisingly, Clank Legacy 2 clocked in at 10 plays. Last year my group got two sessions into the twelve session campaign, and although we had a multi-week layoff over the summer, we did reach the end by autumn.
Rebirth is a Reiner Knizia design that arrived in late 2024, but didn’t hit the table until this year. The good doctor has returned to tile-laying mechanics, and I am a huge fan of this one. Rebirth is reminiscent of Knizia tile-layers like Samurai and Babylonia, in terms of both mechanics and quality. Players add tiles to a shared board trying to both create large contiguous areas of identical tiles and surround resources and occupy settlements. This edition contains two similar, but intriguingly distinct variants, one for Ireland and the other for Scotland, which suggests expansions may someday follow. Of the games I played for the first time this year, it’s far and away my favorite.
Flip 7 is a quick and easy push-your-luck card game that looks a bit similar to the casino game Blackjack. Players receive cards one at a time into a face-up tableau, most of which are number cards that are worth points equal to their value, but getting a pair causes you to bust, losing all of your cards and scoring 0 points for the round. Added to this basic framework are just a handful of additional cards that offer insurance against busting, or force players to stop or take cards, creating a very swingy but accessible family game. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it seemed to gain some purchase even outside the hobby, reaching the shelves of just about every big box store I’ve been in lately. The production quality feels a bit flimsy, but the publisher has clearly prioritized wide distribution at an affordable (~$8 USD) price point. I could see this game joining Uno, Flip-Bo, and Phase 10 in the pantheon of family card game classics.
Heul doch! Mau Mau (or, as my game group calls it, “Onions”) is a card game I had never heard of before a frequent tablemate picked it up at a game convention flea market. Like a lot of the games that hit our table frequently, it’s a quick filler that we play while we’re waiting for players to arrive or as an end-of-night palate cleanser. Each player is dealt a hand of cards that they try to use to build a scoring pile in front of them, adding cards that match the top card in either number or suit, with a couple of important hitches. First, if a card is playable on a neighbor’s score pile, it must go there instead of one’s own. Second, if a player has no legal play (or if they choose to voluntarily), they may play a card face down on their score pile, which may be topped in the next round with any card. In final scoring, face up score cards are worth their face values, but the number of face down cards in the pile removes all the cards of that rank. (That is, if you wind up with five face down cards in your pile, you don’t score any of your fives.) With a couple of action cards to add variety, there’s enough strategy to be interesting but enough chaos to keep things light. It doesn’t appear to be widely available, but if you happen across a cheap copy, its unique design and simple gameplay make it well worth it.
I saw The Gang on a few year-end recommendation lists, and I understand why. It’s a cooperative card game based on the Texas Hold ‘Em variant of poker. It helps to be familiar with the ranking of poker hands, but I think the game is pretty accessible to novices as well. At its heart, the game consists of guessing the relative ranks of all players’ hands solely through a bidding mechanic. After each set of community cards are revealed, players rebid, just as in a normal game of hold ‘em. There are some additional mechanics that advanced players can add on, but its core alone is a clever twist on a classic table game that plays quite well.
Finally, Oracle of Delphi is an older (2016) Stefan Feld game that I encountered for the first time this year and loved. Players take on the role of classical Greek heroes racing to complete 12 trials and be the first to return home, but the clever card-based action selection and the various “divine favors” players can earn create interesting choices and strategic depth. Sadly, it’s out of print and used copies are somewhat rare, but thanks to Yucata, I wouldn’t be surprised to see it on this list again next year.
Arcs
One notable game that didn’t make it to the top of my play list was the much hyped and much debated Arcs. I played a couple of standalone games in 2024, but not the Blighted Reach campaign, which I really hoped to try in 2025. Unfortunately, after one more standalone game and one campaign session, I don’t think Arcs will make it to my game group’s table again. I would absolutely love to give it another go, but I’ll need to find tablemates who aren’t on the “hate it” side of the “love it or hate it” divide.
I understand at least some reasons for Arcs’ divisiveness. It looks like a space-themed 4X game, but it doesn’t play out as a satisfying power fantasy like most games in that genre. The play experience of Arcs does not promise you a sense of continuous growth—you can’t guarantee that your little planetary empire will get bigger, stronger, or more powerful. Indeed, because of its unusual card driven action selection mechanic (which, as an aside, is only obliquely related to trick taking), you can’t even be sure you can take strategically optimal actions on any given turn, and that clearly frustrates some players.
I don’t think I’ve played Arcs enough to explain how to play it best, but I have played it enough to say with confidence that no matter what its detractors say, it’s not a broken design. Rather, it seems to be trying to force players to attend carefully to their opponents’ strengths and strategies and move boldly and opportunistically when they can. I believe the design is an attempt to capture the dramatic sweep of a classic space opera, but you can’t deliver the feeling of a miraculous victory against impossible odds if players always feel strong, powerful, and capable. Steadily climbing a power curve doesn’t encourage dramatic, hopeful gambits. Quite the opposite: it’s much smarter under those conditions to bide your time until success is assured.
Cole Wehrle, Arcs’ designer, has once again taken an ambitious risk and created a design that runs counter to commercial trends in the hobby. It’s heartening that he is able to enjoy success and acclaim while doing this. Arcs is not a “feel bad” game, but the market is so overcrowded with hyper-palatable games determined to avoid any experience players won’t enjoy that I understand why some react negatively to it. Still, I sense something powerful and rewarding at the heart of Arcs’ design, and I still hope to get the full experience sometime in the future.
Other Games
I also had thoughts on a few games that didn’t make it to the table as much in 2025.
Fishing: Of the new trick taking games I played in 2025, this is the one that sticks out the most to me for its creativity and strategic potential. Fishing is played over the course of several hands, with stronger and stronger cards being introduced after each one. The clever hook here is that each player’s hand is dealt first from a private deck formed by the cards they won in prior hands, so winning tricks scores points but guarantees weaker hands in later rounds. I only encountered this one near the end of the year, but I’m hoping to get deeper into it in the year to come.
Molly House: This is another innovative design that came out in 2025 with Cole Wehrle’s name on it (co-designed by him and Jo Kelly). At a high level, players are Mollies, members of a community of gender-defying libertines in 18th century London who must work together to create joy or be destroyed by the Society of the Reformation of Manners. At this level, there is a loyalty/betrayal mechanic, where players who cannot win through joy creation can risk turning in the other Mollies as an alternative path to victory. At a more granular level, the gameplay is built around Festivities where joy is created through cardplay. Each player contributes cards in turn, and if the right combination of cards are present, those who contributed them score joy. The catch is that some cards put participants at risk of exposure, and failing to build a scoring combo results in a boring party, which is a thief of joy. The game’s semi-competitive feel is very evocative of a clandestine social scene full of risky relationships that may suddenly transform from supportive to spiteful. It’s not a game we’ll play every night, but I definitely intend to play more.
I enjoy games that try to model politics, and Votes for Women was one I played for the first time this year that immediately calls to mind its inspiration, 1960: The Making of the President, While the latter models a presidential campaign and the electoral college, the former models the campaign to pass a constitutional amendment, specifically the Nineteenth. In many ways, it’s a simpler, streamlined design that incorporates the specific history of the fight for women’s suffrage with fairly clean mechanics. It’s also possible to play solo or competitively with up to 4 players, and the 3 player configuration takes advantage of one of the game’s more interesting design choices, which is to model the challenges in coordinating the Suffragist side of the conflict using two distinct sets of player resources that are aligned but not interchangeable. This is Tory Brown’s debut design, and a promising one at that.
A licensed title based on the Alfred Hitchcock movie, Rear Window is a mystery/deduction game whose core mechanic of a silent “Director” laying out cards to help detectives solve a murder is reminiscent of Mysterium. And while the core gameplay is good, I was even more impressed by the art direction, which did a fantastic job of capturing the aesthetic of both the film and the era from which it originated. All of the components have a midcentury illustrated style that would feel perfectly at home on Jimmy Stewart’s coffee table. With so many licensed titles being cheap cash grabs, Rear Window was a truly impressive effort from the sadly now-defunct Funko Games.
Looking Ahead to 2026
It’s going to be a lot harder to predict the coming year at my game table. I think it quite unlikely that I will log anywhere near as many games as I did last year. I expect to be traveling for work a bit more than I have of late, so that will reduce the number of game nights I can attend. But, if my recent trend of playing more games online continues, that might somewhat make up for it.
This is also the first year in a long time that I don’t have any new games I’m keen to get playing. My longstanding goal, going back well over a year, is to get a proper in-person session of Dune going. Maybe this will be the year for that. Perhaps there will be another campaign game as well, but at this point, nothing is scheduled. Truthfully, I’ll be very happy if I play enough Fishing to get a real feel for it.
In any case, I go into 2026 with an open mind and an open dance card. If you’re in the hobby (or want to be), I wish you a great year of gaming, and if you’re interested, get in touch and we can meet up sometime around the virtual table.
If you spend time in the board gaming community, you’ll eventually hear people talk about the “Golden Age of Board Games.” The one small problem is that nobody seems to agree on exactly when or what this golden age is. Historians may place it in the distant past, while newer gamers and industry voices tend to say we’re living through it right now, or perhaps that it just recently ended.
I believe the story is more complicated. The past few years have undoubtedly been good ones for certain types of games and certain industry business models. These prosperous times have attracted investment and attention, but they’ve also created a market crowded with similar products and a more homogenous gaming culture. And as any ecologist will tell you, homogenous ecosystems also tend to be fragile. That fragility leads publishers to grow conservative, fearful that changing customer preferences or economic conditions could threaten their businesses. It’s not easy being golden.
Setup Phase: Laying the Board on the Table
I don’t claim to be a historian of games, just someone with the perspective of a lifelong gamer. I grew up in a house where my parents kept a closet full of board games we played regularly. As a kid, I pored over my dad’s SPI games, careful not to lose a counter or damage a paper map. Over the years, my gaming touchstones grew to include Dungeons and Dragons, Axis & Allies, and Diplomacy. I learned to play Magic the Gathering on the wildly unbalanced Unlimited Edition. And sometime in college, between games of Axis and Allies and Diplomacy, I played my first game of Settlers of Catan (now simply CATAN).
After college, I got more involved with Play by Email Diplomacy. I have never been a big convention-goer, but I attended a few around this time, including DipCon XXXIV in Denver, where I was playing at the table next to Edi Birsan’s legendary Immaculate Concession. My wargaming peaked around these years with an epic World in Flames campaign and explorations of classic games from before my time, like Flat Top. I have even beheld firsthand the immensity of The Campaign for North Africa, considered by some the longest and most complex wargame ever published.
Like many American game enthusiasts in the 1990s, my perspective on board games’ potential was reshaped by contact with contemporary European design. While “eurogame” has become a vaguely defined term today, it originally referred specifically to games developed and published in Europe, characterized by language-independent design, indirect player conflict, and non-military themes.
Although I remain a game omnivore who enjoys everything from wargames to party games, most of my current gaming falls into what I would categorize as “hobby gaming,” which I describe broadly as the activity of the dedicated community that has arisen around contemporary tabletop games. As it is in most hobbies, the gaming community is integrally connected to a network of professional and commercial interests, including publishers, retailers, conventions, and media.
Opening Moves: What Makes an Age Golden?
When people claim we’re in a golden age of board gaming, they typically point to the volume of new releases, the quality of designs (referring variously to design or production quality), the size of the market, and the proliferation of board gaming events.
I used to hear more celebration of game diversity, but this seems less common now than it was 20 years ago. This reflects a real shift in the industry toward larger, more elaborately produced games and away from smaller, more economical ones. Crowdfunding platforms, which have become critical channels for discovery and marketing, contribute to the escalating expectations around new major releases. Where crowdfunding once largely served to help small publishers validate demand for projects, it now draws consumers’ attention to projects’ growing scale and ambition. You’re not just buying a game, you’re participating in a campaign! As more and more money rolls in and the game swells with stretch goals and bonus materials, the excitement of the campaign can overshadow the long-delayed enjoyment of playing the finished product.
Publishers have adapted to these raised expectations by adopting familiar strategies from other parts of the media world, relying on established intellectual property, sequels, and series to manage risk. This isn’t entirely new, of course. Before Settlers was CATAN, there were Seafarers, Cities and Knights, expansions, and expansions for expansions. But when one of the most popular recent releases, Wingspan, spawned fantasy (Wyrmspan) and aquatic (Finspan) followups, the community couldn’t help poking a little fun at the emerging pattern of “Thingspans”.
Early Game: The Play Remains the Same
The repetitiousness of popular new releases is no joke. When Wingspan became a commercial success with its then-unusual birdwatching theme, the market responded with all manner of plant- and animal- and nature-themed card collecting games. Even visual presentation serves a commercial end: talented artists do amazing work, but once successful, the industry transforms them into marketable brands. And that’s not even considering the recognizably one-note visual slop of AI-generated graphics, sadly becoming more common.
Gameplay itself is growing monotonous, in part due to the growing role of conventions in the hobby. Playing with strangers in a convention setting is very different from playing with friends at home. Some players react badly when they feel they’re being attacked, so managing conflict at a table can be challenging. It’s even more difficult when friends and strangers play together, as often happens at conventions. It’s no accident that designers and publishers attuned to the needs of convention play tend to create games with limited player interaction, sometimes derisively called “multiplayer solitaire.”
This may be my own bias talking here. I’ve never been comfortable at large conventions, and even my limited participation has exposed me to bad experiences with problem players. But interestingly, Diplomacy—a game with an undeserved reputation as a “friendship killer”—has one of the most cordial communities I’ve encountered in the hobby. I have only ever had positive experiences playing this high-conflict, betrayal-heavy game face-to-face with strangers at conventions. One reason may be that it’s an established game with a dedicated community, whereas mainstream hobby gaming focuses on newer releases with fewer established expectations.
Midgame: The Consumption Machine
The focus on new releases is driven by board game media and publishers who rely on these channels for publicity. Gaming content increasingly centers on acquiring new games, creating a whole subgenre dedicated to reviews and buying guides. Content creators face tremendous pressure from both audiences and sponsors to produce definitive verdicts on games as early as possible in their release cycles.
With the predominance of crowdfunding, much of this coverage occurs before games are widely available, requiring advance copies and publisher collaboration. Unsurprisingly, this arrangement creates significant conflicts of interest and conditions ripe for misbehavior, as we’ve seen in cases like that of the Quackalope YouTube channel.
Even honest reviewers work under intense time pressure, creating a media environment full of superficial impressions based on little play time and even less reflection. It’s just not possible to produce thoughtful analysis of an unreleased game comparable to what you could create for a game that’s 20 years old, like Twilight Struggle, or 30 years old, like Settlers of Catan, or 66 years old, like Diplomacy.
But this isn’t solely a media issue, and the fact is that most new games aren’t designed to be played in 66 years, or even 20. They’re created to look impressive, drive successful crowdfunding campaigns, be easy to review, learn, and teach, and play reasonably well during early learning sessions (often with unfamiliar players you won’t see again). If particularly ambitious and farsighted, they’ll include hooks for expansions or sequels. In short, they primarily serve the industry’s commercial interests rather than hobbyists’ personal enjoyment.
Interlude: The Things We Lost in the Dark
One example of what today’s “Golden Age” seems unable to produce is Nacht der Magier. This innovative game casts players as wizards gathered around a magic campfire, with a unique twist—it’s played in complete darkness. The elevated board features only a few glow-in-the-dark elements to guide players as they try to land one of their glowing cauldrons in the central divot. They cannot see most of the obstacles that fill the board, and they must end their turn as soon as any piece falls off, signaled by the sound of wood hitting the tabletop.
Such a game would struggle to succeed today. It’s essentially impossible to play at a convention, requiring darkness and light-charged phosphorescent pieces. It can’t be effectively demonstrated in a youtube video. It’s an intimate experience, played huddled together in the dark with hushed voices listening for the clatter of falling pieces to break the tension.
It’s also a bit complex to produce, requiring custom wooden and plastic pieces with glow-in-the-dark printing. And unfortunately, for a game with targeted appeal, production complexity alone likely takes it out of the realm of economic feasibility.
The game may not be for you personally. Its BoardGameGeek reviews are not all glowing. But even though Nacht der Magier isn’t for everyone, I find it hard to argue that it is good for the hobby for there to be so little room for such innovative designs. Hobbyists sometimes look down on “kids’ games,” but it’s precisely through these games—designs for kids that can be enjoyed by grownups—that we transmit our love for this hobby to the next generation of players. My school-aged daughter had a sleepover a few months ago, and I can confirm that Nacht der Magier was a hit.
Late Game: Bright Spots
Despite the challenging environment, designers and publishers continue to do interesting and challenging work. Stonemeier Games, despite receiving gentle ribbing for their Thingspans, consistently produces a variety of high quality designs. Niche publishers like Hollandspiele and New Mill Industries use small print runs and just-in-time production to produce designs that larger publishers can’t or won’t.
On the design side, Cole Wehrle has found commercial and critical success doing diverse and innovative work. His recent games range from asymmetric conflict in a fantasy (Root) or historical setting (Pax Pamir) to sci-fi campaign games that creatively combine gameplay mechanics (Arcs), to an ambitious and earnest exploration of colonialism (John Company). Even if these games don’t appeal to you, they clearly avoid repetition.
While I appreciate these creative outliers, they remain exceptions to the rule. As the industry mainstream grows larger and louder, the vital work being done outside of it seems increasingly marginalized by comparison.
Final Scoring: Reconsidering the Golden Age
Considering how much the hobby has changed during my life, I can’t deny that we’ve likely been living through some kind of golden age. What remains unclear is whether it has ended, and whether it was as golden as it could have been. I can’t celebrate the commercial pressures that have limited our imagination as players and reduced the space for innovation. And I remain particularly skeptical of the role commercial interests play in prioritizing consumption and acquisition over enjoyment.
Speaking for myself, I like variety, creativity, and innovation. I believe a healthy hobby publishes diverse games, even if not all appeal to me personally. And while the end of this golden age may hurt commercial interests, it might not be so bad for the hobby as a whole. After all, many of us now have shelves full of great games, and we’ll have plenty of time to enjoy them while we wait for the next golden age to begin.
Tabletop gaming, mostly in the form of board and card games, is my biggest hobby. I’m also the kind of game nerd who keeps notes. This may sound unusual to outsiders, but it’s common enough within the community that several game logging tools have sprung up, including the one I use, Board Game Stats.
Armed with a year’s worth of data now that the last games of 2024 have been recorded—yes, I did get two plays in on New Year’s Eve—I’m looking back and reflecting on another year in the hobby.
By my standards, I did a lot of gaming this year, logging 278 total plays. My busiest month for gaming was January, when I played 49 games, but I didn’t break 30 in any subsequent month. I was surprised to learn that I logged more games than a few of my convention-going friends just playing online, attending weekly game nights, and playing occasionally on the weekends.
I also played a wide variety of games: 129 different titles hit the table this year. I did most of my gaming in person, with the split around 60-40 between live and online. I did most of my online gaming on Board Game Arena (BGA) and Yucata, in roughly equal proportion.
Fives and Dimes
Gamers who log their plays often share lists of games they’ve played at least five times (nickels), ten times (dimes), or more. This year, I racked up one quarter, three dimes, and nine nickels. A few games stand out when I look at the list:
I’m unsurprised to see Mottainai atop this list for the second year in a row. I’ve been encouraging people to try it for years, but it can be a tough game to teach, and that limits its appeal. I’ll write about it more some other time, because I think it’s underappreciated and deserves the attention. For now, I’ll just say that I think it shines as a fast two-player duel, and I’ve found a wonderful community of players on Yucata who share my enthusiasm for it. I played it less often than I did in 2023, but I fully expect it to be my top game again in 2025.
Ticket to Ride: Legends of the West is a legacy game based on Ticket to Ride. It took my group about six months to play the full campaign. I’ve only played one other legacy game (Betrayal Legacy), so my basis for comparison is limited, but I enjoyed the campaign overall. The game introduces different mechanics from session to session, some persistent and others transient, so there’s quite a bit of variety in the gameplay. I also appreciated the balance between hidden scoring and public scoring in the campaign. My group had a good sense for who was in the lead, but we really did not know how close we were, and everyone felt “in it” throughout.
After playing it 10 times last year, I feel like I finally “get” Ark Nova. I still don’t love it, but I believe I better understand its appeal. All 10 of my plays were online, hosted on Board Game Arena, against friends from my IRL game group. We played all of them asynchronously, meaning we took our turns slowly over the course of several days, and that’s definitely how I prefer to play it. I feel much better connected to what my opponents are doing when I can click over to their tableaus and see what they have going on, something you seldom get to do when you’re at the table together.
Taken together, these 13 games account for 118 plays, or about 42% of my total for the year. My group tends to play a lot of new games, which is wonderful, so it doesn’t surprise me to see that I have a very long tail of 83 games I only played once.
New (To Me) Games
Several games I played for the first time in 2024 left strong impressions. Aside from the already-mentioned Ticket to Ride legacy game, three others stand out: Heat: Pedal to the Metal, Arcs, and HUANG.
Heat was unquestionably the biggest hit of the bunch. It took me a while to get my hands on it, since it seemed to become completely unobtainable after Shut Up & Sit Down’s glowing 2022 review. In my experience, racing games tend to fall to extremes, either very uninteresting or very interesting. It took a couple of years, but I’m delighted to report that Heat is, in fact, very interesting. The design captures the feeling of pushing your car to the limit—requiring you to build up the eponymous heat—but it really makes you pick your spots. Perfectly safe driving is just as unlikely to result in a win as driving like a maniac. And you experience that tension in a streamlined package that’s easy to learn and fast to play.
Arcs is a mid-weight, card-based space combat game that was one of the most talked-about 2024 releases in the hobby board game world. I only played it twice, and I have not been able to play a campaign yet, so I know I haven’t seen everything it has to offer. Sadly, it didn’t catch on with my regular game group. It seems to benefit from multiple plays, as both action selection and scoring can be a bit tricky (pun intended), depending on both cardplay and resource tokens. I want to give it more chances, but it may be hard to get back on the table.
HUANG, on the other hand, was very well received by my game group. Most of us are big fans of Tigris & Euphrates, which HUANG’s design is based on (by way of Yellow & Yangtze, which I’ve never played). It took us a couple of plays to adapt to the differences between the two games, but both are quite accessible to new players without sacrificing the depth that makes them so fun to play again and again. Both games are highly abstracted, somewhat unorthodox civilization builders where players control a set of leaders spread across different dynasties. As they rise, go to war, experience internal conflict, and fall, players try to position their leaders to benefit themselves, even if that means having different leaders on both sides of a conflict. I don’t think HUANG will ever displace T&E from my collection, but it’s different enough that I am happy to have both.
Predictions for 2025
Looking ahead to the new year, I’m optimistic that 2025 will be another good year for games. It’s my great fortune to have a wonderful game group, not to mention non-hobbyist family and friends who are more than obliging when it comes to trying weird games. My plan is to play more of the games in my collection and continue drawing down how many new titles I acquire, something I did pretty well last year.
As I already mentioned, I expect Mottainai to top my list of plays again this year. Just before the new year, I started a campaign of the new Clank! legacy game, so I expect that to make an appearance in this year’s dime list. I’d also be delighted to play the Arcs campaign at least once, and I have a few other games, old and new, that I’d like to get to table at some point. (I’m eager to try Votes for Women and to see if we can’t make Dune happen some weekend.) Beyond that, I’m always hoping to be pleasantly surprised by something unexpected, whether it’s a new release or an overlooked gem. In the end, I’ll be happy as long as I get to spend quality time having fun with good friends around the (real or virtual) table.
