by Justin Bell

After a recent business trip, I returned home and made a few updates in my home office before shutting down the laptops. I walked out of my office and took a peek to my right, into the game closet.

My closet is a small nook with an actual door (I don’t want visitors to necessarily see the depths of my obsession) that includes the hookups for a washing machine, tile floors, and just enough shelf space to hold my collection. It’s also the room where I keep the two halves of my Game Topper game table and the Costco folding table it lives on top of when I host game nights.

Between a smaller shelf facing the entryway and a larger set of shelves to the right, I’ve got space for a mix of about 200 games, depending on box size. But space is getting tight. If you ask my wife, space is already pretty tight. I only keep about 10% of the review copies I get each year and I already have a sizable personal collection, so we are almost completely in “one in, one out” territory.

It is time to make hard decisions. Only the cream of the crop is going to stick around when I’m done with the current purge.



I have visited friends who own game collections that number in the hundreds. I have a couple friends with collections that exceed a thousand titles. I have an industry connection who has north of two thousand games. I’m sure someone will respond to this article with thoughts on why they will never part with a single member of their three or four THOUSAND game collection.

Many of you are collectors, an impressive hobby in and of itself. I know many people buy games with the express goal of never playing most of their games, adding boxes purely to have them live on their shelves. Sadly, they never hear the voices coming from the boxes.

“Please, play me!” the box seems to be saying. “I thought you bought me to love me.”

“In a way, I did,” you say. “I bought you to love you, but only to look at you, to admire you from afar. No one will ever shuffle your cards, or manipulate your components, or unfurl your board. No, handsome $82 board game product, you will remain here, on shelf 134 of my room-wide Kallax, for eternity.”

“But, I was made for play! I was produced in a factory far from here to be appreciated by the players, on a table! This shelf will not do!”

“Quiet down, handsome $82 board game product,” you reply. “The decision is final. My shelves are a museum, and I look forward to seeing your smiling side box art staring back at me when I walk past you on the way to the kitchen.”

At my house, I only possess games for the purposes of semi-regular play. When those games are not getting enough play, I move them out. It’s strictly business. Some people have a library of hundreds of books that collect dust; others, a liquor cabinet full of spirits that never get consumed. To each their own.

My collection is reaching a breaking point. I used to believe that I needed to own no more than 52 games, because I play games often enough to get at least one of my own games tabled every week. Reviewing games has changed that calculus, because now most of my game nights are either review game nights, family game days, play con events, or instances where I enjoy the collections of others. Thankfully, there is a lot of crossover for the latter, so when someone wants to table a game that I also own, I nod in approval…I’d love to play your copy of Orléans, because I haven’t played my copy all year.

This has helped me focus on the current exercise. I want to winnow these 200 games (technically, 205 games, per the BGG link to my collection) down to about a hundred this year. That mix will mean about 50 family/party games and about 50 hobby games. That means the games in the Maybe Pile are going to go soon, and I’ll be a little pushier to ensure those get played quickly.

The games that I think I love enough to keep, but don’t ever suggest tabling, have to go, too. If it’s a game that is out of this world, truly the cream of the crop, best in class for its respective category, it stays.

If I love the game, and anyone else I know also loves it and plans to keep their copy, my copy is a goner. If a game is not on the personal Mount Rushmore of a category, that game is gonna hit the streets. For example, I count on five specific titles to keep me happy on the nights I vote for party games: Wavelength, Just One, Codenames, Caution Signs, and Decrypto. Those games are more than enough. But what about Belratti? OK, alright, fine…I can make room for six.

The auction game section is full up: Stockpile: Epic Edition, Amun-Re, The Princes of Florence, Container, and Railway Boom. For Sale will stay because I want to have a quick auction game option. Auction/bidding mechanics are all over the place at my house, in many forms, including in titles like Coimbra and all of the train games.

The Lacerda collection previously held as many as ten slots in the collection, and now it is down to seven. No purging needed there; the current selection is tight. Sitting in the same zip code as the Lacerda games lies Carnegie, my #2 game of 2022. I think Carnegie is genius, but even writing this paragraph gives me pause: I haven’t put Carnegie on a table in more than two years.

I’ve played Carnegie a few times on Board Game Arena, a place where I KNOW I will play it more than I will play my physical copy at home. That means Carnegie and its expansion are getting moved to the donation pile. This hurts my soul, but I know it’s the right move. While I love the beauty of that board and the satisfying nature of play, it doesn’t come out enough to justify its space in my collection even a moment longer.



Maybe that’s it, then. It’s not only the fact that a game has to be the cream of the crop. It has to draw enough attention that I NEED to play a physical version of it at least once or twice a year.

That made the purge exercise even easier.

Valeria: Card Kingdoms? Exceptional, and my favorite of the “roll dice, get stuff” genre. And, a goner, because I haven’t felt the emotional connection to table it in a couple years now. Ayar: Children of the Sun? A personal top-10 pick from 2025…and, a game that I have not played since I wrapped up my review plays, so it is getting moved into the donation pile. Illiterati? Love it. But word games don’t surface as often in my house any more, so 1973’s Montage will be the only title I need to fit the word game/association bill for the time being. That means it is time to find a new home for Illiterati.

The exercise continued deep into the night I began drafting this article.

Huge fan of The Red Cathedral. But its expansion, Contractors? It was a mixed bag in my play groups, and I haven’t integrated the expansion content in the plays it has gotten since. So, the expansion has to go. The Mombasa redux, Skymines? A blast. The card system is something I still admire. I just haven’t admired it enough to put Skymines back on the table, and every time I go back to re-read the rules, I find myself more enamored with something else that I want to table instead. Love the game, love those storage tuckboxes, love that the game got a retheme. But Skymines is moving out.

For years, I screamed to the masses that designer Martin Wallace’s most underrated design was the skirmish game Wildlands. I still think the game is badly underrated. Those feelings haven’t helped me push the game to the table more, so it’s a goner too.

Magnate: The First City? Love it. It’s hard to find a legitimately fun city builder that plays in about an hour, even at the full player count. But the box is a behemoth, and more importantly, a friend in my local playgroups is never getting rid of his copy. If I can play his, I don’t need mine. The third shelf actually thanked me when I moved the Magnate box off the shelf.

“Thanks,” Shelf Three said. (I think I heard its voice, but that may have been the cocktail I had earlier that evening.) “I wouldn’t mind some card games living on top of me for the next few months. My back is killing me.”

All in, I pulled 33 games off the shelves. I took a moment to stare at the now-former members of my collection because I wanted to be sure. Am I really going to move these games out? It felt like the right decision, but I wanted to give the games one last chance to tell me that I am wrong.

Sometimes, there’s the pull of sunk cost. A couple of these games cost a pretty penny at the time, and maybe I don’t want to see them go just yet. In other cases, a portion of a game is something I love even if the complete package is an up-and-down affair. For example, maybe one game mechanic really sings to me, such as the rondels of Sabika, the real-time play of Wildstyle, and the engine-building magic of Raising Robots. But in each of these cases, I haven’t really made eye contact with these boxes in at least a year.

After piling all the purged games back in my office, I walked back into my game closet to stare at the remaining games one more time. Is each one a game I can really see myself trying to push the table if I get to pick something for an upcoming game night?

One by one, I revalidated my feelings. I still have some work to do, to clear some more space. But for now, the collection is all cream. Now I just have to clear more time to play my favorites.