For as long as I can remember, games have been part of my life. Charades at Christmas, Apple Bobbing at Hallowe'en, Marbles in the playground and Hide and Seek on the street.
But now games are in decline. As we sit around the turkey, watch television and get drunk, we are less and less sure about how to have a good time together. Can anyone remember how to have fun? During the 19th century, a vast number of games books were published and games became a national obsession.
The mass migration to cities - together with improved working hours, longer holidays and better pay - all meant that people had time on their hands. At the same time gaslight began to replace candles and a revolution in domestic lighting swept the country. Looking for new ways to fill their freshly illuminated evenings the Victorians turned to games.
In our quest for a good time perhaps we should take inspiration from them. Could this Christmas mark the return of genuine, old-fashioned fun?
Someone begins by choosing a book from the shelf. They will be the umpire for this round. The game begins with the umpire reading out the book's first line to give everyone a sense of the prose style. Now everyone writes down their best impression of the book's last line. Everyone pops their suggestions into a hat. At the same time the umpire writes down the actual last line and throws that into the hat too. When all the entries are complete the umpire reads them out. Everyone votes for what they think is the real closing line. You get one point if you vote for the actual last line and one point for everyone who votes for your version. Keep going until everyone has had a go at being the umpire. Whoever has most points at the end wins.
The Station Game
Someone starts by volunteering a train journey. They must give the starting point and the destination. They must also establish a particular "secret" in how they explain their journey.
For example: "I travelled from Edinburgh to, um, London." The secret is the "um" between destinations. Going around the table, the next person must say a journey in response. They might say: "I travelled from London to Manchester," to which the first player would reply: "No, you didn't." Why not? Because the second player hasn't yet twigged that you have to put an "um" between stations.
People continue offering their journeys, all being told: "No, you didn't", until someone might, by accident, say "um" between their stations. The reply would then be: "Yes, you did." Gradually people will figure out why certain journeys are allowed and others not. When the go falls again to the first player, he gives another example of a successful journey, again repeating the clue, saying, for example: "I went from Bristol to, um, Cardiff."
When everyone has solved it, move on. The first person to crack the code should establish the new one.
Sitting around the table a "doucher" is chosen. This person proposes a category with a limited number of examples and which is not too esoteric (say, the films of Tom Cruise). The doucher "locks" an example of this category into his mind.
The doucher takes an eggcup filled with water. They hold it over the head of each player asking them to give an example of the category. They might say Top Gun, Days of Thunder, Rain Man. As soon as someone says the example in the doucher's mind, they are "douched" with the contents of the egg cup.
The soggy victim now takes over the role of doucher, proposes a new category and the game begins again.
This is great when you are sitting around the table, too full to move. Each player shares three things about themselves. Two of these must be true and one false. Everyone in the group gets the chance to interrogate the speaker. The group grills the speaker to discover how well they can back up their claims.
When everyone has had the chance to ask their questions, the group decides together which statement they believe to be the false one. This is the most fun part as everyone struggles to reach a consensus. When a majority decision has been reached, you announce your verdict and discover whether you've successfully deciphered fact from fiction. Watch out for hesitation, faintly concealed smiles and discreet blushing.
This is a modern twist on a game which in the 19th century would have been known as a "catch" game since you are looking to catch someone out. You begin by selecting a "psychiatrist" from the group. It's his job to diagnose the condition everyone is suffering. He leaves the room while the group agrees the condition they might all have. The classic ruse is that everyone answers as if they are the person sitting to their left. The Psychiatrist returns to the room and starts to ask questions of his or her patients. How are they? Do they have any particular fears, dreams et cetera? People have to answer as accurately as possible according to their knowledge of the person to their left (which itself proves very revealing). When the psychiatrist is totally baffled you can help him by suggesting he ask each patient his or her name.
Somebody chooses a word and everyone must write a telegram as an acronym of this word. So, if the first word is "Christmas", then the first word must begin with C, the second with H and so on. To match the telegram style your sentence must contain information in the form of an urgent message. The telegram's content must also relate to the original word. A notable example I collected is "Please Help I've Lost Overall Sense of People's Happy Yearnings" (PHILOSOPHY).
Award three points for the top telegram in each round, two to the second and one to the third. You will need to establish quality by consensus. At the end of four or five rounds declare a winner.
Simon Godwin is the author of Ting Tang Tommy! 88 Alltime Great Games (Fourth Estate)