Disclaimer

The following account is based on true events, questionable memory, and the standard level of sleep deprivation associated with both the NHS and board-gaming conventions. Names have not been changed because nobody involved has enough dignity at stake to require anonymity. Opinions are my own, scores are regrettably also my own, and any resemblance to a competent rules teach is purely coincidental.

GridCon 6 (Friday only)

The hallowed gathering of 300-ish cardboard enthusiasts, rules explainers, dice chuckers, miniature painters, podcasters, spreadsheet-builders, and “I-swear-I-usually-score-more-than-this” types.

Like many other board gamers, I did not get a ticket.
Not because I forgot, or because of the usual chaos involving wife’s rota, postgraduate doctor strikes, my own job, tennis tournaments, school runs, or the general meteorological unpredictability of Somerset.
No, no — this time I simply “half-heartedly tried”. A noble, time-honoured strategy that rarely works for anything in life, except perhaps for making toast.

Fortunately, several of our Taunton group did secure tickets, which is how I ended up with one for Friday: by inheriting it from Ian’s partner Kay, who couldn’t attend. A simple switch. What could possibly go wrong?

The Birth of “Ray”

Nurse handwriting is a menace.
I wrote “Kay” on the badge. Everyone read Ray.

So there I was, introducing myself as Mike, while wearing a badge proudly declaring that I was someone called Ray — possibly a long-lost cousin, maybe a middle-aged jazz saxophonist, who knows.

Thankfully, Paul Grogan himself had already approved the ticket handover after Ian messaged him weeks earlier (I also suggested he slip in the fact that I’m a Patreon member — always good to influence the Board Game Algorithm).

Thursday Night: Badge Pickup Chaos

Thursday evening was designated “ticket night”. Ian and I queued, collected badges, and I wrote, in retrospect, the world’s most ambiguous “K”.

Thus the legend of Ray was born.

Rob and I agreed to meet the next morning at 9-ish, carefully timed around my son’s school drop-off and my wife’s hospital weekend rota. (She was off Friday… off in the sense of being on duty. Classic NHS wording.)

Kutná Hora Teach: Part I

I began the day with plans for not one but two Kutná Hora teaching sessions. First with Becky from Whose Turn Is It Anyway? (who I also know from the hospital — theatre nurses truly are everywhere), and later with Phil and Alex.

Friday morning, after the school run (always more tactical than any CGE game), Rob and I arrived at 9:10am. The Holiday Inn was already buzzing: full tables, long queues, and a GamesLore stand radiating the gravitational pull of a black hole made of cardboard and temptation.

I grabbed a table next to the GamesLore stand. Prime real estate. Half the convention walked past and stared at Kutná Hora as I unfolded it like some sort of Czech property salesman.

Becky already had a game of Tenby booked, so I loitered, spectated, and successfully recruited Matt and his wife Michelle for the teach.

The teach wasn’t my finest example of pedagogical grace, but everyone got the gist and we set off

Result:

• Becky — 46 (winner)
• Michelle — 43
• Me — 39
• Matt — 37

Low scoring, but with beginners, that’s basically normal. Nobody quite knows what they’re doing until halfway through round four — including the teacher.

Subway: The True Convention Lunch

Hotel food: fine, but priced like a Kickstarter deluxe pledge with neoprene mat. Additionally a 10% service charge was added.

So Subway it was.

Unconscious Mind — The Game That Outscored My Brain

I got pulled into Unconscious Mind, taught by a friendly Swiss chap.
Great game. Stunning art. Deep strategy.

And apparently I understood… none of it.

Winner had 200+ points.
I: “50-odd”.

Not 50-odd as in “somewhere around 50”.
50-odd as in: How did you get quadruple my score?
In medical language: “Patient showing signs of severe strategic confusion.”

The Arnak Rumour: The 49 points Legend

Word spread through the hotel like a scandal in a village hall:

“Stephen scored 49 on Arnak.”

For the non-board gamers reading:
This is impressively bad.
This is “are you sure everything is set up correctly?” territory.

I found Stephen — not in tears, not hiding behind the GamesLore shelves — and he confirmed the score. His defence was robust: he’d been teaching two complete newcomers.

The court accepts this plea.

Square One — A Puzzle for Christmas?

Next up: Square One, the pattern-matching engine-builder successor to Project L.

I came joint last.
Naturally.

But it was fun, family-friendly, tactile, and I’m already rationalising buying it “for my son”. As you do.

Kutná Hora Teach: Part II

Then came Teach #2 with Phil and Alex, joined by Ian James.

Everyone had played before, so rules were faster and we got straight into the Czech mining/urban planning chaos.

Final scores:

• Me — 38
• Phil & Ian — 37
• Alex — 35

Another astonishingly low-scoring four-player game. At this point I’m convinced Kutná Hora has turned into an austerity simulator.

Lost Ruins of Arnak — The Redemption Arc

The final game of the night was Lost Ruins of Arnak using the new Owl Temple from the latest CGE expansion.

Players:

• Stephen (looking for redemption)
• Emma Spence
• Me

After 150 minutes of exploring, digging, researching and faffing with idols:

• Stephen — 85 (winner)
• Me — 79
• Emma — 75

A full redemption.
No 49 in sight.

Midnight, Badge Hand-Off, and Ray Rides Again

At 00:15, I handed my pass back to Ian for Kay — who may or may not spend the weekend explaining why her badge calls her Ray.

After 15 hours of gaming, I played only five games.
Classic convention maths.

GridCon 6 Friday was brilliant, exhausting, social, chaotic and utterly worth it.

Even if, for one glorious day, I lived my life as Ray.