József

We were playing cards. Many families were in one place, and you could see those faces eager to play something beyond party games, something a bit deeper. So, we taught a young boy how to play Tichu, and then he taught his family. Everyone got hooked on it, and they always had the perfect number of players for Tichu. Now the great thing is that the boy specifically asks his family for permission to come and play Tichu with us. He sees that it’s a kind of connection or environment where you can be in such social situations. It's like a mutual understanding: I love playing cards, you love playing cards, what shall we play?

Máté

This is what we constantly seek as parents or educators—how to support children in being proactive and creating their own gaming situations. And they can do it.

József

And imagine, what I also see is that kids I draw into gaming situations eventually believe that it's good to learn new things. After a while, they become problem-seekers because they realize that solving a problem is beneficial for them. And I get feedback from the math teacher about how great it is that now there are open eyes and ears when explaining a problem, because the kid who enjoys solving problems in games realizes that solving a problem, even in a more mundane context, is good.

Máté

And they start to feel competent. Kids decipher structures—even though they don’t consciously realize it, and neither do adults, but these things unconsciously build up. And these skills can be used anywhere. This transferability is what's incredibly exciting and important.

József

If I spend a lot of time with the kids in these situations, where we struggle together, laugh together, and then one day I tell them we're going to paint a fence in the afternoon, there's no question—we go. Because they associate it with me inviting them into challenges that might not feel good at first, but in the end, they’ll feel a sense of completion and satisfaction.

Máté

In a recent conversation, we talked about how difficult and seemingly impossible it is to explain rules to kids. But I've been explaining game rules to kids for ten years now, kids about whom teachers typically say they can't pay attention at all. And in my experience, it’s not a problem to explain game rules to them. Of course, it matters what, how, to whom, and in what context. It’s about routine and trust too, because they know it will be good; we’re beyond the point of uncertainty about the outcome.

My next question is, do you have a favorite board game story that's beautiful and contains deep pedagogical truths, even if it doesn’t appear so at first?

József

I really love checkers. My initial discovery of that game is very vivid to me. Checkers is a very aggressive game. You have to move forward, you're heading towards each other, and the goal is to destroy the opponent. Moreover, you’re obligated to capture. This is incredibly appealing to teenage boys; many of them sit down to play this game and get completely beaten by a slightly better player. Their pieces wander on the board, they have to capture, and they end up in bad spots. Their own pieces become suicidal on the board. You can observe this well when a somewhat experienced second-grade girl plays against a sixteen-year-old boy who just learned the rules an hour ago and knows three combinations, feeling extremely proud. When I point to the girl and say, "You'll play against her," he feels a bit indignant. It's the ultimate humiliation, playing against a girl. Then he pours his aggression into the already aggressive game, and the girl, who commands her little greedy pieces modestly, keeps them together, making sure they don’t wander off or end up in bad places. That's all she knows. And just with that behavior, she can beat him, and it’s a huge learning moment. The boy had already declared the game to be great because you get to destroy each other’s pieces, and what happens? He gets thoroughly beaten by a girl. From then on, what happens? Does he reclassify the game as not good? No. He realizes he needs to play it differently, calms down, retracts his claws, and starts paying attention on another level. And we’re talking about an abstract game, not a role-playing game. A game based on mathematical principles and the resulting game situation starts to show you something about your own behavior, and if you understand that, you start to recalibrate. That’s what’s very powerful for me, seeing these recalibrations.

Máté

It's great that you shared that story because a similar one of mine made it into my book, and it’s one of my favorites. Two teenage boys were playing Jaipur, a two-player board game. And they were playing it standing up. I interpreted it a bit through the lens of aggression because they usually challenge each other in such ways, but how beautiful it was...

József

Now they’re boxing on another dimension.

Máté

Yes, it was very good, and they fully followed the rules, peacefully moving pieces around. The only aggressive aspect was that both were standing. There were chairs around the table, but they didn’t use them in the usual way. I loved how they incorporated themselves and used a new tool for this. Do you remember a few years ago when we went to play badminton and were working on the "Playing Well" book and talked a lot about handicapping? It came up there too. I thought, I'm younger than you, taller than you, I easily hit two hundred with my mom by the lake, you don't need to give me a handicap. Even if you’re a badminton coach. And I don't know if you remember, we played a few rounds, and it became obvious that there was no point in playing seriously together because we weren't on the same level, so I eventually accepted the handicap. My question now is, do you have a story about giving a handicap that you'd like to share?