This past Sunday I, once-again, ventured into Vancouver's North Shore (I say that it's Vancouver's, but it's really two independent cities named after Vancouver) to roll dice, drink beer, and yell. Sunday's game was Warhammer 40,000, and Sunday's army was Chaos Space Marines.
What I love most about this club I go to ("CHOP!") is that the members are completely concerned only with amusement. They're infamous for being loud; in fact, their name derives from the sidebar in the Warhammer rulebook on page 72, and they're known to yell it out whenever something incredible happens in a game (in which case you're supposed to yell along with them). This might irk some people who desire a more chess-like atmosphere, and it has made some people cringe who aren't used to the Vancouverites' antics (such as my beloved American folk), but I think it's fantastic!
Miniatures gaming is supposed to be fun, and crazy. I think Games Workshop knows this too, as their new rules sets lean more towards this kind of play (see my posts about Warhammer 40k 6th edition during June 2012). Of course, the strategic element has to be primary, but who says you can't season it with wackiness?
Anyway, I digress. CHOP!'s loudness and outgoing approach to wargaming has forced them to find a venue where they can be themselves. They found one in a local lodge in North Vancouver, where they get their own room, and access to as many British pints as they can drink (which is a lot).
Now, I don't mean to paint these guys as amateurs; they're not. They will give you some of the hardest games you've ever played. They're not power gamers in that they'll bend the rules to benefit themselves, but they're not above taking advantage of certain "hidden gems" or oversights on the part of the GW design team.
All-in-all, I have a fantastic time gaming with these guys, and they're hosting a tournament in a couple months, in which I'll take part, and begin a long-desired project on this blog: a tournament preparedness series.
Regarding my game of 40k: I lost, but just barely, against an opponent I respect greatly. He had a terrible series of die rolls, but in the end he snatched victory from the jaws of defeat; or should I say I snatched defeat from the jaws of victory? CHOP! to me, I guess.