RISK: A Game For Liars and Backstabbers Print E-mail
Written by Darrell Gabonia   
Wednesday, 03 May 2006
RISK: A Game For Liars and BackstabbersAm I a bitter person? No, I am not. At least not normally. But you my friend have pushed me to my proverbial limit, and I am not a man who uses the word “proverbial” lightly. I keep that word reserved in a special angry-rant box along with other angry-rant words such as “hamper” and “judicial” and “dorkameter.”  In that same box you’ll find the words to every Pearl Jam song EVER. Not because I find them angry, but because I’m not a very organized person. I also like to keep my hair short during the summer. I find it kind of irritating when it gets shaggy. I wish I could pull off that cool suburban hipster thing, but you know what? It’s not in the cards for me! Wait a minute... We were talking about Risk. Oh, how clever of you to turn the tables, but now the tables are... positioned correctly... again.

I admire and hate you all at once. We both plot for global domination in this cardboard world. You with your Green army. Me with my Blue. The other four players are mere pawns in our merciless machinations. Fodder. Cowards. Content with their Australias and weak diplomacies they attack once then quickly refortify. But you are like me. We are Northern America and Europe with our tentative Greenland/Iceland treaty and relentless paths of destruction. Will we meet in Africa where Red has found her temporary reprieve? Or will we meet in Asia where Grey and Yellow battle endlessly for unpronounceable territories? Let the red dice roll. Let the white dice answer. There will be blood. There will be gun smoke. There will be dismembered plastic limbs.

Then there will be that horrible, deceptive, evil, but sweet like Raisinets word.

“Alliance.”

And despite everything we’ve been through, I will believe you.

And with one fell swoop Asia has been decimated. Australia proves not to be the impenetrable fortress she thought she was. South America can’t even muster a decent defense against the onslaught machine. And for a moment it’s glorious.

Then it happens. Just as it has in every game for the past decade. Out of the dark continent the Red army emerges with a full battalion of canons and men on horses waiving swords. Suddenly, my borders are compromised. My troops are too depleted and reinforcements won’t be arriving for another round. Western Europe is crumbling and my empire is on the verge of extinction. But we persevere. We hold, taking a sizable portion of the Red army down.

“Counter strike!” I scream at you. “Hit North Africa with everything you’ve got!”

You smile, oh so devilishly. “Greenland attacks Iceland.”

And it makes perfect sense. Green and Red were the real alliance all along. I was played for a fool.

The invasion comes fast but never painlessly. Iceland is an open door. Scandinavia soon follows. And the mighty Ukraine is unable to dent the machine.

But when Great Britain falls it remains unfinished. Red seems genuinely surprise when you march into Africa unopposed.

In the end, the fault rests squarely on my shoulders. You made me trust you, North America. And so help me God, it will happen again.


Darrell Gabonia is a 23 year old student living in San Francisco.

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