The playwright W.S. Gilbert,
who had been known to turn a phrase or two, once wrote, "Things are seldom
what they seem; skim milk masquerades as cream." These are very sagacious
words which apply to many walks of life, not the least of which are games.
We have all encountered designs which, even though they bore all the hallmarks
of greatness, turned out to be as exciting as solitaire Uno. Conversely, think
of the games which you were certain would be stinkers, which you were forced
to play only upon threat of divorce and/or excessive whining, which nonetheless
turned out to be true gems. Makes you doubt your powers of judgement at times.
The specific reason I
bring all this up was the appearance about a dozen years ago of a production
modestly called "Trump: The Game". To properly set the scene, this
was at a time when it was difficult to find any example of the written word,
including fortune cookies, that didn't blare out the name of Donald J. Trump,
Real Estate Mogul Extraordinaire. Like many right-thinking citizens of the
world, I was sick to death of him. Anyway, I was innocently walking through
my local game store when I spotted this very large, oddly shaped box. Rarely
have I seen a game so uniquely qualified for stinkerhood. Not only was Trump's
name emblazoned all over the box (in approximately 97 point type), there was
an enormous leering photo of The Donald himself right on the front--signed
yet! There were also clever quotes, presumably from the shy and retiring D.T.,
such as "It's not whether you win or lose, but whether you win!"
and "Live the fantasy! Feel the power! Make the deals!". The bottom
of the box showed the game board and it looked like a somewhat simplified
version of Monopoly. And, oh yes, the game cost about $45. In 1989! I proceeded
to run, not walk from the game store, lest dementia should suddenly set in
and I might possibly be tempted to buy this loser.
Evidently, I wasn't the
only person to have this reaction, since the game stacks in the stores seemed
to scarcely diminish throughout that entire summer. The situation must have
been so bleak that, for once in their existence, the game companies took notice
and slashed prices like they never slashed before. Actually, I can't be sure
of exactly what happened--all I know is that during the next summer, T:TG
began appearing all over town for $10, and sometimes even $5 a copy. Well,
hell, I'll buy a bucket of chicken scraps for $5 if it comes with a gameboard
and a rules book. Soon copies of the game began vanishing from store shelves
and appearing in the closets of bargain-hungry gamers. And, like me, they
probably figured if they'd bought it, they might as well try it. And damned
if didn't turn out to be a pretty good game. Ol' W.S. Gilbert would have made
a hell of a game publisher.
Trump is a negotiating
game masquerading as a property game, no doubt to make it more palatable to
the average American game player. The game revolves around eight properties,
ranging from Sports Complexes to Casinos, all of them appropriate to the glitzy
world of Donald Trump. The properties themselves are shallow, hollow, two-part
plastic containers which can hold the game's currency. Each property has a
slot in the side, so that money can be added to it without revealing its contents.
At the beginning of the game, each property begins on its spot on the game
board with $50 million in it. Each player begins the game with $400 million.
The game also uses a deck of 72 Trump cards (what else?); each player starts
with five of these.
The game is played in
two distinct phases. During the first phase (the Buying phase), each player
on his turn first draws a Trump card and then has the option of either rolling
the die and moving their token, or of playing a card. The die is a special
one, with a "T" replacing the 6. If a player rolls a T, she chooses
an opponent and draws a card at random from his hand and then rolls again
until she gets a number. If you keep rolling T's, you keep swiping cards from
your opponents.
The board consists of
18 spaces. Eight of them are the property spaces. If a player lands on one
of these, $10 million from the bank is added to that property's container,
whether the property is owned or not. Four of the spaces allow the player
to put the property of her choice up for sale. On three of those spaces, the
property must be unowned; on the fourth, any property, whether owned or not,
can be selected. Another space lets a player trade a property they own for
any other property, whether owned or not. Three spaces direct the player to
add money ($30 or $50 million) to any unowned property. One other space gives
the player money from the bank; another lets the player take a card from each
opponent.
So most of the spaces
deal with the properties, either adding money to them or changing their ownership.
Before I get to the procedure for selling a property, which is one of the
game's central mechanics, let's take a look at the Trump cards.
Half of the 72 cards
in the deck are profit cards, which let the person who plays them collect
money from the bank if they meet the conditions listed on the card. Some are
based on owning single properties (for example, if you own the Tropical Island,
collect $50 million). Others pay off only if the player owns both of the two
listed properties (one card, for example, awards $110 million if the player
owns both the Cruise Line and the Hotel). Yet others give you cash if you
own any property (to the tune of $40-$50 million). The most lucrative profit
cards pay off if you own any three properties ($160 million) or any four properties
($200 million). So a big part of the game comes from trying to acquire properties
which match the profit cards you have in your hand and holding them long enough
to cash in.
Besides the profit cards,
there are tax cards, which require the player you play them on to hand over
$20 million per property he owns, and cards which force the sale of any property,
whether owned or not. There are also the most interesting group of cards,
the ones that are used during property auctions. The simplest way to show
how these work is to describe how a property is sold.
Properties are put up
for sale due to a player landing on an appropriate space or playing an appropriate
card. The amount of money in the property is not revealed prior to the auction.
First, the players conduct an in-the-fist auction. This establishes a high
bidder. Then, beginning with the player who initiated the auction, each player
takes a single action. One obvious action is to increase your bid so that
you are now the high bidder. However, no bids can be increased until at least
one player has played an "Outside Investor" card. These cards add
from $20 to $60 million to your bid, which you get to keep if you lose the
auction, but there are only eight of them in the deck. Once an Outside Investor
card has been played during the auction, any player can make their bid the
highest one, either by adding cash, playing Investor cards, or both. Another
popular action is playing a "You're Out of the Bidding!" card on
an opponent, which means that for the moment, her bid doesn't count. Often,
this makes another player the high bidder. The only action an ousted player
can do is to play an "I'm Back in the Bidding!" card on herself.
Since there are 13 Out of the Bidding and only 5 Back in the Bidding cards
in the deck, auctions tend to get pretty bloody.
The auction continues,
with each player in clockwise order either increasing their bid over the highest
active player, kicking out an opponent, or climbing back into the fray. Players
can also pass if they can't do anything else or if they just want to await
developments (which is often very wise). The procedure continues as long as
the players keep adding money or playing cards, but once everyone passes in
succession the auction is over. The active player with the highest bid wins
the property and pays their bid to the bank, if the property was unowned,
or to the previous owner, if an owned property was auctioned off. If the auction
for an owned property is won by the original owner, they add their winning
bid to the property itself. In any case, the new owner of the property reveals
how much money it contains and then seals it back up.
The Buying Phase ends
when either all eight properties are purchased or when the last Trump card
is drawn. In the latter case, each of the unowned properties are put up for
sale one by one. The game then continues with the Dealing Phase.
The Dealing Phase is
simplicity itself, but in point of fact, the game's first phase has merely
served as prelude to this endgame. During the Dealing Phase, each player in
turn must either play a card, propose a deal, or pass. Card play is exactly
as in the Buying Phase. Deals can involve just about anything in the game:
cash, cards, properties. These items can be sold, traded, or loaned. You can
promise to carry out future actions or not to perform certain actions. Basically,
just about any deal you can imagine can be proposed. The only restriction
is that both players must try to honor the deal. The player to whom the deal
is offered either accepts or rejects it; then the next player takes his turn.
This process continues until each player has passed in succession (which usually
doesn't happen until the most stubborn player is convinced that there are
no more deals to be had). Then, each player counts up the money they have,
plus all the money in any properties they own. The player with the most money
wins.
Trump: The Game is basically
an embryonic version of the classic negotiation game, Kohle, Kies & Knete.
Obviously, the Sackson game is a more refined design with wilder card play,
but T:TG has the same basic feel and requires the same skills to play well.
Considering the high regard that many aficionados of the gentle art of persuasion
have for KKK, this is high praise indeed, particularly for an American game
of the eighties.
One of the game's small
brilliances is the fact that all the die-rolling in the Buying Phase, which
seems so Monopoly-like, actually yields very little benefit to the active
player. Adding money to properties and triggering sales are important game
functions, but it really doesn't matter whether you land on those spaces or
an opponent does. Collecting lots of cards is good, but that simply makes
you a target for opponents rolling T's. The principal purpose of the Buying
Phase is to gradually distribute cash to the properties and cards to the players.
The game accomplishes this using a familiar mechanic that holds the players'
interest. It also means that the die rolls don't particularly add to the game's
luck factor.
Of course, there is luck
in what Trump cards you draw. But like most negotiation games, T:TG is more
about making the best of what you have then riding a lucky streak. The most
important and enjoyable part of the game is the auctions, and here card play
is very important. First, however, you have to make your opening bid, and
this is not as straightforward as it may seem. Bid too much and you may wind
up needlessly spending cash; you also make yourself a likely target for "You're
Out of the Bidding!" cards. Bid too little and you may never have a chance
to win the property. It all depends upon the desirability of the property
and the cards you hold in your hand.
Once the opening bids
are made, things really get interesting. There are only eight "Outside
Investor" cards in the game and unless one is played during the auction,
no one can increase their bid. So waiting for the right moment to use one
of your Investor cards is essential. Of course, you can always force your
way to the top by putting the top bidders out of the auction. But patience
can be a virtue here as well. Knock too many of the high bidders out and the
fellow behind you can do the same thing to you and walk away with a bargain.
"I'm Back in the Bidding!" cards can help you avoid this fate, but
there are only five of them in the entire game. You've got to pick your spots,
know when to fold 'em, etc., etc. All of this should sound very familiar to
the KKK veterans out there.
By the way, the rule
about how to resolve an auction in which a player purchases his own property
handles a thorny and common situation better than any other game I've seen.
Traditionally in auctions of this kind, the owner of the property is paid
unless he is the winner, in which case he pays the winning bid to the bank.
This puts the property's owner at a considerable disadvantage in the auction:
his opponents can lowball him in the bidding, because if he wins the auction,
he has to pay and gets nothing additional for it. In Trump, a player who successfully
bids for her own property adds the winning bid to the property's cash holding.
Since she'll get this money at the end of the game if she holds onto the property,
she is essentially breaking even (just as if she had lost the property to
an opponent making a fair bid). Of course, she could still take a bath if
she loses a subsequent auction for the property for a cheap bid--say with
the judicious use of "You're Out of the Bidding!" cards. This merely
adds spice to the original auction. Very, very nice.
Trump saves the best
for last with the high-stakes Dealing Phase. Here is where those Profit cards
you weren't able to cash in during the Buying Phase come into play. The advantage
goes not only to the player with superior negotiating skills, but also a vivid
imagination. There really is no limit to the number of different types of
deals that can be proposed; I can't think of any other game of its time that
so encouraged creative dealmaking. In this regard, the game is quite reminiscent
of the much more recent Chinatown or Traders of Genoa. This phase also works
as an equalizer for the players who weren't able to match their cards with
their properties, or who simply never owned a lot of properties at all. With
the right deals, you can still make plenty of money and never touch a property
throughout the whole game.
The end result is an
enjoyable game, particularly for those who love wheeling and dealing. Played
with the right crowd, Trump is a blast, highlighted by the auctions and the
big finish. It can really be a kick seeing the crazy deals some players come
up with--particularly when they're accepted! The game also plays quickly,
with literally no down time. On the negative side, luck can still play a sizable
role, particularly with the Trump cards. Good draws really simplify your life,
and a series of mediocre ones can make you work pretty hard just to hold your
ground. The game can also bog down in the Buying Phase if the For Sale spaces
don't get landed on. And the auctions become much less interesting if a lot
of the good cards get played early. Still, this is quite a good game for its
time, and serves as a fascinating precursor to some of the great negotiation
games of the Nineties.
The components for Trump
are fantastic. Everything is much bigger than it needs to be, much like the
larger-than-life subject of the game. The board is brightly, but not garishly
colored, with the background brush-stroked to resemble marble. The properties
are big (5" long), sturdy, and work quite well as a hidden depository
for the money. The paper currency is functional and holds up well (three guesses
whose picture is on each bill). The cards are nice and stiff, easy to read,
and fashionably illustrated. Best of all are the instructions, which are a
model of clarity and contain numerous examples and illustrations--they could
easily pass for the best rules sets of today. This was quite unexpected at
the time of the game's release and really helped new players easily understand
a rather unusual game. Milton Bradley clearly went all out in the physical
design of this game--which certainly goes a long way toward explaining its
original list price--and they add considerably to the pleasure of playing
it.
In spite of the fact
that it is a genuinely good game, it wouldn't surprise me if I never played
Trump again. The more recent games I've mentioned in this article (KKK, Chinatown,
Genoa) are better designed and include more bargaining/cardplay bang for the
buck. Such, sadly, is the fate of a trailblazer. I do feel that Trump could
do an excellent job of introducing more passive players to the wonderful world
of negotiation games (after all, you're rolling the die and moving around
a board--how nasty can it be?). It can also serve as a good bridge for exposing
your stodgy American gaming buddies to the concepts of German gaming (and
since the game itself is American, they probably won't even realize they're
being indoctrinated). Of course, if your gaming group includes any Donald
Trump haters, you might have to warn them not to jump to any quick conclusions.
After all, it isn't necessary to have written HMS Pinafore to know that you
can't judge a book by its cover.
By Larry Levy