Puerto Rico 1897: Special Edition

I have no idea how I managed it, but I reached this point without ever playing Puerto Rico. It is a landmark, genre-defining title and all that, yet it had never called to me. Still, it deserved its chance, and I could see at once why its reputation carries such weight.

At heart, it is honest worker placement: make your choices, squeeze value from them, and watch carefully what you leave open for everyone else. Honest worker placement is like hardtack: it fills you up, but you do wonder whether a better focaccia was available.

The interaction mostly lives in timing, and in who chooses to pass. I saw the familiar complaint first-hand: one player passing can hand the win to somebody else. It stings when it happens, although Puerto Rico is hardly alone in having that weakness.

Then there is this Special Edition. The production is a proper showpiece, with table appeal that, for me, even surpasses the splendid Burgundy. It is the sort of box that reminds you, after a Tuesday at work, why we still clear a table for cardboard and wooden bits.

I did not have a bad time; I simply did not find the focaccia I had hoped for. I would play Puerto Rico 1897: Special Edition again for the bling alone; as a game, it is quietly respectable rather than essential to me.