In a world where fun often means competition, one writer boldly declares her disdain for games, arguing that they should be banned for those over twelve. Emily Watkins, a freelance writer from London, shares her personal take on the matter, suggesting that genuine social interactions are stifled by the very activities that are meant to enhance them.
A Park Encounter Gone Awry
Recently, while catching up with a friend in the park, the conversation took an unexpected turn. After exchanging life updates, the mood shifted dramatically when her friend proposed a game of table tennis. Instead of enjoying a relaxed chat, the moment was interrupted by the suggestion of a competitive match. “We are no longer speaking,” she quipped, highlighting her true feelings towards recreational games.
For Watkins, the idea of engaging in any game with friends is simply unacceptable, especially once they’ve crossed the threshold into adulthood. While professional athletes may find their calling in competition, she believes that informal games only lead to social awkwardness and a loss of genuine connection.
Games: The Antithesis of Connection
Watkins contends that no social gathering is improved by the introduction of a game. “It feels like cruel and unusual punishment to have organic conversation curtailed by something ghastly like Articulate!” she writes, emphasising her belief that structured activities diminish the quality of interactions. Such sentiments resonate particularly in settings populated by strangers, where the pressure to perform only intensifies the experience.
The writer illustrates her point with a satirical take on team-building exercises, suggesting that the forced camaraderie of games like “Two Truths and a Lie” is akin to torture. “Let’s stick pins in our eyes!” she exclaims, capturing the essence of her frustration with these social conventions.
The Desire for Simple Togetherness
In her manifesto against games, Watkins doesn’t propose replacing them with other activities. Instead, she yearns for a simple gathering space where friends can enjoy each other’s company, preferably with a coffee or a glass of wine in hand. The notion of a pub quiz, often viewed as a light-hearted diversion, falls under her fierce disapproval as well. “They’re actually the most dire of all,” she asserts, critiquing the forced atmosphere that disrupts what could otherwise be an enjoyable evening.
Interestingly, she acknowledges the existence of a passionate community that thrives on competition. These individuals, who fervently engage in games, both intrigue and frighten her. “Maybe I envy their strength of feeling,” she admits, contemplating her own indifference towards competition and her unique shortcomings in various games.
Embracing the Freedom of Non-Competition
Watkins concludes her argument by embracing her position as a non-competitive individual. “The real fun begins as soon as the games stop,” she declares, urging her friend to forgo the paddles in favour of a glass of pinot. This perspective invites readers to reflect on the nature of social interactions and the role of games within them.
In a society that often equates fun with competition, her candid rejection of games offers a refreshing alternative: the joy of simply being together without the constraints of structured play.
Why it Matters
Watkins’ stance on games speaks to a broader cultural conversation about the value of social interactions in an increasingly competitive world. As we navigate relationships, the choice between fostering genuine connections or succumbing to the pressures of structured fun becomes pivotal. By prioritising authentic communication over competition, we may rediscover the essence of togetherness that games often overshadow.