Why Haggis is the greatest modern climbing game
What makes Haggis such an enduring game? I'm diving in.
In 2010, Haggis, arguably the greatest modern climbing game, saw its release by Indie Boards and Cards, known then for The Resistance (Eskridge, 2009) who would later be known for Coup (Tahta, 2012) and Flash Point: Fire Recue (Lanzing, 2010).
I recognize that it’s a controversial statement, calling Haggis the greatest modern climbing game. Tichu (Hotstettler, 1991) exists and still has a massive following, though I find the ‘meta’ around the game to be more of a hinderance than a help. This is a common concern with partnership games, though, and I’m talking about Haggis here in its two- and three-player play, not as a fixed-partnership game — Haggis and Neeps — or even as a three-player variable-partnership game — Haggis and Tatties. I’ll be talking about Haggis in its original form, which was the only edition truly available until Portland Game Collective republished the game in 2023. The mention of Tichu is not an arbitrary reference, though; designer Sean Ross told The Inquisitive Meeple in 2014 that “the main goal of the design was to try to have an experience that was similar, if not identical, to what Tichu offered but with fewer players.”
This is not a look at Tichu, though we can’t get far discussing it. This is also not a look at other climbing games, though we can’t get too far from Haggis before we need to talk about that, too. Tichu, after all, took a lot from other games, with the Chinese card game Zheng Fen being the most-cited example. At least partly because I can’t read any form of Chinese, I’ve struggled to find when this particular game first came into being. Other games are a bit easier to pinpoint — Big Two, another Chinese card game, is reported as first being played in the early 1980s.
Many shedding and climbing games feature a general strategy of going out first. (In fact, I think you can say that all shedding games have that goal, though I do suspect there are some tangential examples that do things just a little bit differently.) Unlike shedding games, climbing games like Tichu, Zheng Fen and Haggis operate a bit differently: Going out may be important, but it’s not the only goal, nor is it the ultimate goal. You’re trying instead to capture points, which you gain by winning certain cards. You’ll win them by playing higher-ranked cards, but with all three of these, there’s a little bit of a twist: You can play over higher-ranked cards if you play a “bomb,” which is a set of cards formed by some criteria specific to the game. A bomb is an opportunity to interrupt a sequence of play. It can put a player in the driver’s seat, or it might just make life harder for an opponent.
In Tichu, a bomb is either four of a kind or a sequence of five or more cards in one suit. A higher-ranked bomb — which is to say, a bomb composed of more cards, or a bomb with the same number of cards but with higher-ranked cards — can beat a bomb. Haggis follows that lead, but its bombs are of a different makeup. Rather than being a long run or a big set, a bomb in Haggis comes in two forms. The first is a combination of the cards 3, 5, 7 and 9, either in four different suits (a ‘rainbow bomb’) or in a single suit (a ‘flush bomb’). The former is the weakest of the bombs; the latter is the strongest. There’s one more form, but for that, we have to discuss another of Haggis’s innovations: Wilds.
In the interview linked above, Ross discusses his use of wilds in Haggis, citing an earlier two-player climbing game, Teech for Two (Levy, 2005) as its initial source. In that game, you receive three wild cards each round — two 2s and a Joker. Those wilds are used in runs and sets, with the Joker being of a higher value than the 2s. (Using a deuce as nearly the highest-value card is likely a nod to Big Two, where it’s the highest-ranked card.) In Haggis, players are given the three royal cards; the Jack, Queen and King are wilds, and there’s a natural ranking at play. But more than simply being wild cards you can use, the royal cards form bombs between the rainbow bomb and the flush bomb. There are three in total: a J,Q bomb, a Q,K bomb, and a J,Q,K bomb, with the last being the most valuable.
The extension of bombs into wild cards and the disjoint bomb cards give Haggis its signature feel in card play. The melds the game uses are fairly traditional, in that you have sets (multiple cards of the same rank), sequences (suited cards in sequential order) and stairs (multiple sets of suited cards in sequential order). But if you’re hoping to make a sequence, you might find that you’ll have to give up a card that you can use to make a bomb, or maybe you’ll find you need to use a royal card to do the same — but will it cost you an opportunity to interrupt your opponent?
That tension is at the heart of Haggis: As a player, you are always making a gamble with your opponent’s cards and the eight cards not in the game. Those eight cards form ‘the haggis,’ and they score points for the player who went out first. In Haggis, both players score points for the cards they capture. The standard scoring sees the 3, 5, 7 and 9 worth a point apiece, the Jack worth two points, the Queen worth three, and the King worth five — so capturing cards used to make bombs becomes even more valuable. Not every round you play will feature a 3/5/7/9 bomb, given the random distribution of the cards, though you can always count on the royal cards. That adds further to the decision-making tension: If you use a wild in a sequence or a set, and it’s beaten by the opponent, you could end up in a points deficit, even if you go out first. There’s one more thing to consider, too: If you win a trick with a bomb, your opponent captures the cards, and thus captures the points. Is it worth it to give your opponent those cards just so you have an opportunity to lead? The answer might be yes, but you’ll find you have to think about it.
Finally, betting in Haggis is not just something you’re doing implicitly when you make a decision; it’s also something you’re doing explicitly before you play a card, should you choose. You can choose between making a ‘Baby Bet’ (5 points), a ‘Little Bet’ (15 points) and a ‘Big Bet’ (30 points). If you make a bet and go out first, you’ll win your bet and the accompanying points. If you make a bet and don’t go out first, you’ll lose your bet, and your opponent gains the points. Finding the balance in your betting becomes crucial, and I’ve certainly made some very poorly considered bets.
Haggis is ultimately a tense game. You’re faced with impactful decisions at every turn. Whether it’s when to use a bomb, when to play a wild card, or when to when to strategically pass, you’ll have to think about outcomes constantly. That’s a great thing.
Haggis is designed by Sean Ross, illustrated in its most recent edition by Sai Beppu, and published by Portland Game Collective.
It should be clear by this point that Sean Ross has been involved in the climbing game scene for some time, and that he’s one of the innovators in the genre today. He regularly releases his rules publicly, many of which can be played with one or two traditional decks of cards.
I thought it might be nice to touch on a few of his other designs before ending here, because there are a few I’ve really enjoyed (and many I’ve yet to play).
Bacon (2024) is a fixed-partnership climbing game that’s best with six players. I played it at six at TTUTCON last year, and it just sang. Sizzled? It sizzled. Illustrated by William Harris, published by Allplay.
Greasy Spoon (2025) is a two-player climbing game with a really interesting set of melds, which are divided into three categories. You can’t beat a meld with a different category, only a stronger meld of the same category. It’s pretty great. Illustrated by Carly A-F, published by New Mill Industries. Web published in 2023.
Vidrasso (2021) adds a strawman to two-player trick-taking, which really shifts the feeling you’d expect from a trick-taker. Web-published, available on Board Game Arena.
Dickory (2025) is a two-player climbing game where the rank of your cards is constantly shifting based on a metaphorical “conveyor belt” of cards. The right-most card dictates the highest rank, with the cards running from 1 to 12, like a clock. Illustrated by Imogen Oh, published by New Mill Industries. Web published in 2021.
Hey, thank you for reading Don’t Eat the Meeples this week! I hope you understand my love for Haggis (the game — I’ve not tried the food). If you’re looking to play a game of it on BGA, just drop me an invite (moonty is my username there) — I’d love to play with you. (And if you’ve played with me before and stomped me — I’d love to be stomped again. Or maybe I’ve improved a tiny bit; time will tell.)