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Hoffmann’s Home Play
The Risk
of Playing Board Games
“W
“Oh, come on,” I tried to win him over, “you make it sound as if you’ve never seen a cucumber stick or a slivered carrot before! Just look, they are organic, totally fresh!”—“Yes, I have,” Dieter admitted, “but these here are far removed from their natural habitat. A game table is not a species-appropriate environment for carrot sticks! Here, we need things from the four major nutrient groups: fat, carbohydrates, salt, and sugar. Many things. Chocolate bars and flips like it best to live in herds.”
“Oh, Dieter. You know yourself that we can’t go on like this. The BMI of our game group has nearly doubled over the years. We are living highly dangerously! And then, all this sitting!
Our risk of cardiovascular diseases ...”—“I can already see the headline,” Dieter snapped: “Player group near Hamburg— collective suicide due to eating salted nuts and hanging out! Experts’ warning: Playing board games is more dangerous
than base-jumping! Guys, we’ve got together for a game of Obsession, not for a fasting cure. I’m going to get a beer.” He walked over to the fridge. “Uhm, Dieter,” I shouted after him, “we don’t have beer anymore. But there is a case of bottles with water next to the door!”
Dieter came back. Sat down. Sighed. “Nuts are actually supposed to be quite healthy,” Annika tossed in shyly, “the German Nutrition Society has recently recommended eating about a handful of them per day. The salt, however ...” Dieter and I rolled our eyes in unison, until we became aware that we didn’t mean to act in concert at all.
My smartphone rang. Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries”—the sound I had set for my movement app. “I thought we could at least stand up every thirty minutes and do a few squats or something
like that,” I explained cheerfully; “this reduces the risk by about 20 percent ...”—“The risk of what?” huffed Dieter, “the risk of having a pleasant evening? The risk of having fun once in a week without being impaired by a ring tone that tears you out of the immersion again? The risk of ...”
“Ring tone! Ring tone my ass, you music philistine!” Dieter and I stood up, eager to fight. “Great!” Annika rejoiced, “I’m in, too!” While she was already zestfully bending her knees, Dieter and I started by taking a deep breath. The right breathing also is very important! Okay, I admit that I had started my health offensive somewhat stupidly. After all, this was a group of players. I had to approach the matter differently. “So, the idea is that none of us will have a positive energy balance at the end of the evening,” I said, “our goal is to burn all the calories we consume, since otherwise, they will convert into negative victory points. And everybody needs to stand up once at the end of each round—otherwise, the selection of actions won’t be refreshed. Got that?”
Dieter nodded approvingly. “Nice try. Of course, I believe
you that you are serious about banning the beer and the chips and the chocolate. I mean, otherwise you would certainly still have such things in the basement, right? I’ll go downstairs for a moment—just to keep moving. Taking stairs is so healthy! Even though I know there will be nothing there.” And he cheerfully jumped down the stairs. First, we heard a “plop” from downstairs, then a rustling. Annika looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders. And passed the chocolate bars to her that I had hidden in the drawer with the scoring pads. For emergencies. (sbw)
Text: Maren Hoffmann•Illustration: Anna Breitling-Stenner
hat is THAT?” With clear disapproval, Dieter stared into the bowl that I had put in the middle of the table—that’s the place where pretzel sticks and chocolate bars used to be.
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