I was dangerously late to this particular party. My editor told me that I should try to play some crokinole while I was at the Penny Arcade Expo in Seattle, as it’s become popular recently, and my first reaction was that he’d just made that word up. When I complained to my board-gaming friends, it turned out that they had all not only played crokinole before, but several already owned their own boards. One was even reasonably certain that he’d played the game with me.
When I got to the demo room on the basement level of the Washington State Convention Center, I discovered maybe a dozen tables that were all dedicated exclusively to crokinole, played on beautiful, handmade wooden boards, and there was a crowd seated at them. It felt as if I was the only person who noticed some kind of cosmic retcon, where an unknown force had decided to re-edit the universe to account for the existence and sudden popularity of a previously unknown Canadian table game.
I know that is not what actually happened. I was just ignorant in a specific way. But it was weird.
For the benefit of others who may not know what in the hell this game is: crokinole is a head-to-head game of finger dexterity where both players compete to slide pucks into the highest-scoring areas of the board. (Editor’s Note: I often just call the game Ping-Puck!) It’s a little bit billiards and a little bit darts and a little bit reminiscent of small children messing around on a bumper pool table. It’s easy to pick up, but is an almost pure test of both geometry skills and hand-eye coordination.
As it was explained to me, crokinole is thought to have been invented in Canada around the mid-1800s. The name might be a corruption of the French word “croquignole,” which is a term for flicking something with the tip of one’s finger.
At the start of the game, both players get a set number of pucks, usually 12, and flick them across the board from the edge of the outer ring, trying to land them as close to the middle as possible. If a puck goes into the hole in the center, it’s extracted and saved; if the puck goes off the board, it’s removed from play.
If a player has any pucks on the board at all, the other player must aim for them on their next shot. You can try to knock them off the board so they aren’t worth anything, or simply bank your shots off of them to get a better score for yourself. If you try to shoot at an opponent’s puck and miss, that’s a foul and your shot is wasted.
Once both sides have used all their shots, remove all the remaining pucks from the board and count them up as per whatever scoring system you’re using, then start a new round. The winner is whoever reaches the target score first.
It takes almost no time to pick up the rules for crokinole, although it’s got a few additional complications that might take you a second, like how, when, and where you’re allowed to shoot. Beyond that, it’s simply a question of how well you’ve developed the related skills.
The biggest barrier, in fact, is simply that pre-made crokinole boards can be a little expensive. The boards used for play at PAX were for sale at prices ranging between $250 to $300, courtesy of the Canadian company Tracey Boards. Even an “inexpensive” board, as found online, can cost $70.
That being said, if you know anyone with any woodworking skill whatsoever, a crokinole board isn’t a difficult project. You simply need a smooth, waxed surface with a few rings on it and some sturdy pegs mounted in the middle. Part of why the prices for new boards skew so high is that so many of them are crafted as fancy artisanal projects, in case you’re the kind of person who wants their crokinole board made from rich mahogany.
I enjoyed the two games of crokinole I’ve played so far, and I’m already thinking about giving a couple of boards out as gifts. It scratches some of the same itches as darts or pool, but requires less space and is accessible for little kids. Getting into crokinole can be weirdly pricey if you don’t have the means to DIY it, but it’s not a bad board game to have in your collection if you’re ever in the mood for something a bit more tactile.