MONOPOLY

We’ve been playing the Monopoly app. I said I’d never play Monopoly again - it’s just long and awful, but Sammy persuaded me the app would be different.

Sure - the maths is taken out of it and that, to be fair, does make it more fun. There’s no ‘banker’ trying to calculate the change from a £500 note. Neither is there anyone across the board jumping up and down with glee because you landed on Leicester Square, while you have to work out how to pay them with the pile of scraps you’ve got left plus three stations. It’s all done for you - in itself, removing any of those classic arguments that seem to go hand-in-hand with this terrible game. The app works out what you owe and dispassionately tells you to pay up.

Much like the real world I suppose.

Now then. I know Monopoly is designed to teach you how the world works. I know that it’s a bit of a satirical swipe at capitalism, and I know that these days that message hits home harder than ever. Nevertheless, while Sammy crushed me into the ground with her ruthless tactics, I remembered that Monopoly also gives you a sinking feeling of hopelessness and despair - no doubt to mirror the feelings of pretty much everyone… except the super wealthy. Some people roll sixes and own all the stuff; others don’t, and there’s almost nothing they can do about it. It’s an important lesson kids, but it still kind of sucks. Get used to it.

It’s cleverly done. The early dice rolls determine what you land on, and once the balance tips in favour of Old Kent Road instead of Mayfair, you’re doomed to realise that survival is about making it round the board, back to Go, collecting your £200 salary, and hoping for a bit of luck next time around. Which feels scarily similar to every month, actually.

Our neighbours have just had to move out because the landlord has put the rent up. They’ve got no choice but to take the kids to live in a hotel room until a council house turns up. Meanwhile the landlord will get his new tenants, will profit from the rent, and presumably pay off the mortgage on the property if he hasn’t done so already. The kids knocked our door to say thank you for being good neighbours and goodbye. I felt like crying.

Of course the goal of Monopoly is to end up with all the money; the clue’s in the name. But I think the real aim of the game is to make everyone else around the table bankrupt. And that is cruel and miserable, isn’t it? What actually happens is that as each player runs out of assets, they just leave the table until the last two tycoons are left to battle over the board. Even if you win, it’s really not that fun. By that time, everyone who’s still speaking to you has moved on to a second helping of Christmas pudding, and the rest are sullenly watching The Sound of Music.

Anyway. I forgave her for putting two houses on Mayfair and Park Lane and tried cheering myself up. Someone should invent a sort of reverse-Monopoly where the aim is to end up with the least money and do the most good. It could be called Philanthropy or something, and instead of ending it either smug or depressed, you actually feel positive about the world.

Or, I guess, you could just play something else.