Then the bastard introduced me to Blood Bowl, a Games Workshop game based on the Warhammer universe, and suddenly I was one hooked monkey.

If you're not familiar with the Games Workshop style of games, the word I can best use to some up the feverish sense of involvement is "covetousness". The game is played with pewter or plastic-cast miniatures that you get to paint, and there are some fun ones, and when you see other people's really cool players, you want to have some that look just as cool, if not more so. So you end up buying lots of paint, and lots of figures, and spend hours feverishly hunched over a magnifying glass staring at a little human or orc or elf (or whatever) that's somewhere between an inch and three inches high, with a mind-numbing amount of detail.

It gets to the point where you feel true physical pain when one of your 4-hours-to-paint players gets killed his first time out on the field.

Observe my lousy paint job:

Ripper Bolgrot

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