by Justin Bell

I learned a lot by watching Rodney Smith this weekend.

Like many of you, I know Rodney from his YouTube channel Watch It Played. Prior to Gen Con 2026, I hadn’t met Rodney in person at any of the other shows I’ve attended as a member of the media. At Gen Con, I had the chance to join Rodney and fellow tabletop media writer Dale Yu of Opinionated Gamers for a demo of Mercenaries Wanted, an upcoming game from Cephalofair (Gloomhaven, Frosthaven, Founders of Gloomhaven).

Mercenaries Wanted was a lot of fun, as one might expect given the brand pedigree. But that’s not what I will remember from the experience, even with some of the best smack talk and commentary of the weekend.

What I’ll remember is what happened after we finished the demo. Rodney, Dale and I exchanged pleasantries and parted ways; as we stood up from the table, a group of maybe five or six attendees stopped Rodney to say thanks for the work he does on Watch It Played. Our demo finished late on the first day of the convention; everyone was tired, and with maybe an hour or two before the expo hall day wrapped up, I’m sure Rodney had other meetings to attend, and I was running off to a meeting as well.

However, watching Rodney’s reaction to these attendees was something special. Rodney treated them like a consummate professional. Made small talk for a few minutes. Was overwhelmingly kind, even for a Canadian known for his excessive kindness. (No one does nice like Canadians, right?) For a guy who I’m certain was stopped like this a hundred times over the course of the weekend, Rodney treated these individuals like it was the first time someone had ever complimented him for his work, almost like they were family.

This theme resonated throughout my time in Indianapolis over the weekend. In the board game industry, it’s hard to beat the quality of the people.



The people who work in the board game industry are collectively the nicest people on the planet.

I know that now, because I’ve been a member of the tabletop media space for about five years. The Rodney Smiths of the world are great, and I spent time with many other content creators at the show, from channels I both know and love, as well as newer channels, podcasts, and blogs that feature people I’m excited to get to know soon.

Whether you agree with their opinions or whether you enjoy their content is secondary, at least to me; their intention is in the right place. I am always impressed with the passion of these folks for other people, both their followers and fans as well as their peers. I ran into so many creators this weekend I lost count: David from Man vs. Meeple, Professor Meg, Keith Law, Zazu, Tim Chuon, Ryan Guerra, Stella from Meeple University, The Dice Tower, Chris from The Nerdy Sole, Banzainator, Paula Deming, Ezeekat, Alison and Daniel from Play the Game HQ, a bunch of the folks from Tantrum House.

All of them are wonderful. Many of them treat every convention like it is a college reunion, with big hugs available for both long-time friends and brand-new acquaintances. These folks fraternize with gamers just like Rodney does, and when I have been at shows ranging from PAX Unplugged to SPIEL Essen to BGG Con to Dice Tower West, it’s always fun to soak in their appreciation for their corner of the hobby.



Publishers are great, too. I spent 20 minutes catching up with Dave Campbell from Taco Cat Games (formerly Dolphin Hat Games) about sneakers, and card games, and of course goats and cheese and a little pizza. I ran into my former media contact from Gamewright and we talked about why she is considering a return to the tabletop industry after spending a couple years away. I talked to the current contacts at Gamewright about Buffalo, New York and my time growing up in Rochester. I had dinner with a friend from Trick or Treat Studios, breakfast with folks from Eagle-Gryphon, drinks with Mighty Boards and eggs with Luma Imports, and during those meetups, we essentially didn’t talk about games at all.

I love spending time with random segments of the gaming community. I spent some time with members of the Tabletop Gaymers Association. I did a fly-by with the speed puzzlers near the Ravensburger booth. (Doing a 500-piece puzzle, unseen and from scratch, in 22 minutes is absolutely not my thing.) The Northern Virginia Gamers community was running a table featuring Ares Zombies (Always Ready!) and I kept dropping by each day to see the progression of chalk outlines, dead bodies, destruction and scenery changes across the city map built up by the players.

I don’t live in Northern Virginia and I don’t even know what Ares Zombies is, but it didn’t matter; just chatting with some of the people playing to learn more about why they love the game is why I love the people…it’s not about the game, it’s about bringing people together who share a passion for anything, games or otherwise.



Sometimes, I get the chance to chill with game designers. On the second day of the show, I spent about an hour with Kevin Delger and Jacob Schacht, the men behind Asterisk Games and the co-designers of one of my favorite games of 2024, Railways of the Lost Atlas. We made a point to meet in person at Gen Con this year, even though we didn’t technically have anything to talk about beyond a swap of the duo’s new expansion, Landmarks of the Lost Atlas.

But like every other meetup at the show, the conversation flowed easily and we didn’t talk that much about games. Naturally, we did, at least eventually; Asterisk is working on something new, and I talked about my impressions about the show so far. But then, we really didn’t talk about games, instead flying all over the place about topics ranging from hotels to Minneapolis to other conventions to weight loss to great food and having the right groups for game night.

The Asterisk guys claimed that they are not in the same category of social butterfly that I occupy, but I saw none of that. Instead, I saw what I see every time I hang out with gamers: people who love spending time with other people, with games or without.



On one of the first nights with my Wednesday gaming crew in Chicago post-COVID, I remember a few of us trying to figure out what we were going to play that night. As usual, everyone had opinions.

“Honestly, I don’t really care what we play tonight,” I said.

“You must have something you want to play though,” someone responded.

“Sure, maybe; but I don’t actually come to game night for the games. I come for the people…and for the treats.” (One of the folks in that Wednesday group is a world-class baker.)

Naturally, everyone made fun of this statement, and it still took us another 20 minutes to pick a game. But the sentiment remained: I can find groups to play the games I want, but finding the right people to join on nights to play the right games takes some people a lifetime. Lucky for me, I’ve already struck gold.

This has carried me into my time as a member of the tabletop media and content creation space. I’ve worked in food and beverage, I’ve worked in professional services, I’ve worked in the sports industry, and I’ve worked in retail. Now that I’ve spent so much time in tabletop, it has become easy to see why I think the people in the board game industry are so unique.

These people get the chance to make games and bring people joy for a living. As a job, they’ve taken on work that allows them to create chances for fun experiences with a targeted audience. Creating art is fun, and finding people willing to join that adventure is such a thrill. I see it in the eyes of everyone I meet when I go to shows.

That includes the players.



I talked to dozens of players across my four-day run at Gen Con 2026, and the sentiment I came away with was pure joy. Folks were going out of their way to spend cash. Players called out shirts, hats, costumes, and shoes worn by others: “I love your tattoos!!” Some people waited patiently, sometimes for hours, to buy a single card or a single set of new dice or a copy of a hot game or game-themed swag, from t-shirts to underwear to swords to $10,000 gaming tables.

If we are being honest, Gen Con didn’t have a great show. Sure, things operated smoothly on site and people found their way to the booths that had their games. Events appeared to run mostly without a hitch. Cosplay was solid throughout the show and activities scattered between the Indiana Convention Center, hotel lobbies and Lucas Oil Stadium sounded like they gave fans what they wanted.

But from a logistics perspective, Gen Con was at times a bumpy ride this year. Downtown Indianapolis was essentially a big, orange traffic cone, with construction, hazard signs and closed streets littering every part of the city within a mile of the ICC. Traffic was so bad on Thursday and Friday that a few EXHIBITORS were late to the show if they had to drive in from hotels around the area. I stayed near the Indianapolis International Airport this year, and my ride into town on Thursday–normally a drive that should take about 25 minutes–took 70 minutes thanks to a comedy of traffic issues, closed highway exits, and morning rush hour volume.

And maybe you heard: a tornado warning turned into a roof leak at the ICC that damaged or destroyed some vendor inventory and served up a decent amount of water issues at nearby hotels. Rumors of a future vendor hall expansion only added to the worry that Gen Con might be trying to write checks its collective body can’t cash, to paraphrase a quote from the 40-year-old classic flick, Top Gun.

Despite these troubles, I rarely heard players complain about the extra baggage. The players came to play games, but more importantly, they came to experience something special with their partners, their kids, their gaming groups, and total strangers.

That’s because it was never really about the games, the traffic, or the high costs to make a huge trip to Indy. The players would do it all over again for the people, and I would too. Whether it is players, publishers, creators or anyone else tied to this space, nothing beats hang time with people who love the hobby!