Risk: An Obsession

I love Risk. 

I began playing Risk at the comely age of ten, back in H-town. My father and uncle introduced me to it. Why would grown men introduce a simple child to play such a complex game, perhaps the most complex of board games? Probably so they could have fun kicking my ass.

Yes, it is true. Those early years were lean. Victory was rare, and it often only came in an alliance. A deal made by the devils, amongst the sweetest of angels. Sadly, I was too often the pawn in my pears epic struggle to destroy one another. 

The game of Risk goes back many a year in my family's history. My father and uncle began hating each other since as early as 1962. They still recall, in near perfect recall, how my dad once charged into my uncle with a 20 man army, who in turn only had a 1 man army. Somehow, through some twisted miracle (or shall we call it fate?), my uncle held off the entire army with that one man army and proceeded to stage the inevitable comeback.

You probably wonder if I was the only one invited to this struggle on par with that of King Lear.  I was not. My sister, Sarah, was also invited to this blood bath. Traditionally, my uncle would take blue, my father yellow, my sister red, and I green. It was the will of things.

As time progressed, so too did my power and knowledge. So too did my corruption. 

In fact, my mother would always shout from the other room, "Stop playing that evil game! It stirs evil in this house!" She was properly ignored. Yet, maybe she had a point.

Hmm...

After being the whipping boy for a couple of years, and the pawn of the old men's struggle for superiority and acceptance, I started to branch out on my own. I would manipulate the alliances to favor myself. I would win by taking Africa! Do you know how hard it is to win this friggin' game by strategically holding onto Africa?! (Editors Note: If you have Toto's Africa, play it now.)

For whatever reason, all alliances were born with a handshake. Like that was some badge of honor! Cha Right! Here's how alliances would be formed. A scenario:

FADE IN:

A table is illuminated by a large over-hanging light. Two men sit opposite each other, RICHARD and RON. To each of their sides, sit two children, JONATHAN and SARAH. They are surrounded by a warm ambiance of light, which glows with a dull warmth over the center of the table. Darkness surrounds the outskirts of each them.

As we glean closer, we see they are all hovered around a board. Richard CHORTLES in his throat, and looks down. We look with him to discover that they are all in the middle of a game of Risk.

RON

Don't do it Richard. You're making a big mistake. If you do it

your armies will be vanquished, your women slaughtered, and I

will emerge the victor!

JONATHAN

Do it dad! 

RICHARD

Shhh! I'm thinking.

Richard's fist hovers over the plots of land labeled on the board as "Western Australia". The hand lingers, and the drops a pile of armies onto the area.

RON

Damn. Damn! You fool. Well, you've done it now. I have to conquer

your pitiful armies, until the cower in fear from my mighty fist.

Sarah leans over the table. She looks over at her father, Richard. 

Ron looks at his nephew, Jonathan. Everyone but Richard SIGHS. The sound is so deep, it nearly bakes the room.

Ron looks back at the table and takes a longer look. It lingers thick.

RON

That's it! Alliance. It's the only way to win.

RICHARD

You don't need to do that Ron.

RON

Silence. We must to win! I'm going to beat you. Yes. I'm going to beat you.

Ron turns to Jonathan and thrusts out his hand in defiance of his younger brother. Jonathan is reluctant. 

JONATHAN

But I can win if I just take these two countries...

RON

No. You'll be defeated. It's foolishness. 

RICHARD

You better do it, Jonathan.

With his father supporting his own brother, Jonathan makes the decision and puts his hand into the sweaty palm of his uncles.

RICHARD

Sarah?

Sarah and Richard nod knowingly, and another alliance is born.

The scene saturates as the heat as been turned up another notch.

FADE OUT

A crucial note. Alliances were always, always, formed as follows: Uncle Ron + Me. Dad + Sarah. There was never an exception to this. How this actually came about, I don't really know. It is a tradition lost to history. 

Any way. We would play nearly every Sunday night, until eventually I would get good enough where I was starting to win the game most times. On my own.

Eventually, the game started to lose its flavor when my uncle and dad would just pile their armies into crusades of hate and try to wipe the other out as quickly as possible. Sadly, this killed the fun of what had become a fantastic tradition until the inevitable occurred: The tradition ended. :(

Oh, we still play Risk from time to time. The passion to extinguish each other's existence on a map designed strictly for global domination and superiority still burns. Yet gone is the desire to make it a commonality. Which is a shame, really.

As my record goes? Who knows! I do know I am 5-1 in my last 6 games. Games that span over the past 8 years. 

The board game has become a dying art form, replaced by another love of yours and mine, video games. In fact, you can find all your favorite board games online now. That calls for another :(

Risk. I love you. Always and forever. I won't leave you and forget you like my fathers did. My children shall remember, revere, and know you as I have known you. 

P.S. Australia is the key to the world, dude. Remember that, and you too shall prevail. You were gifted this knowledge because you read this whole posting. Thank me now.