We’ve all been there. You open a new board game, dive into the setup, and maybe even read the rulebook twice. That first playthrough? Magical. The mechanics click, the art is gorgeous, everyone’s laughing (or at least pretending to understand the scoring). But then it just sits there. On your shelf. Untouched.
These are the board games that shine once and then somehow never make it back to the table. Maybe they’re too long or too complicated. Whatever the reason, they deserve love, but probably only once. Here are the games you’ll obsess over briefly, then quietly retire forever.
10
7th Continent
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure, Then Choose-Something-Else
7th Continent is an explorer’s dream: a massive map and a choose-your-own-adventure format that feels genuinely epic. I fell in love with it over a long weekend, flipping hundreds of terrain cards and whispering “just one more tile” until 2 a.m.
But once I hit a dead-end on my second curse and had to backtrack through 80% of the island, my enthusiasm vanished. The thought of restarting from scratch? Nope. It was amazing but just once. After that, I went back to shorter games where getting eaten by a bird doesn’t cost three hours.
9
Eldritch Horror
It’s You vs. Cthulhu (And The Rulebook)
Eldritch Horror throws you into a global race to stop apocalyptic doom. And that first game? Incredible. You’re globetrotting, collecting clues, sealing gates, and constantly just barely surviving. But it’s also 40 decks deep, full of edge-case rules, and takes 30 minutes just to set up.
That stunning box with linen finish and gold-foiled edges? It’s going to haunt your shelf for years. Just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean you’ll play it twice.
After your first win (or loss), you’ll probably look at the table, the mess of tokens, and your mentally fried teammates and think: “That was great. Let’s… not do that again.” Fun, yes. Repeatable? Not without a dedicated group and lots of coffee.
8
Tokaido
A Peaceful Journey You Only Need Once
Tokaido is gorgeous. Everything from the minimalist art to the calming gameplay screams “meditative board game experience.” The game can be absolutely full of zen moments: collecting souvenirs, visiting hot springs, eating perfect meals.
But it turns out, peaceful walks don’t have much replay value. Once you’ve seen the sights, it starts to feel more like a waiting room than a journey. I still recommend it to newcomers and then quietly suggest something with dice the next game night.
7
Betrayal At House On The Hill
The First Game Is Spooky. The Next One Is Broken.
Betrayal nails the vibe: spooky house, creepy characters, random hauntings. That first playthrough is chaotic in the best way. But the more you play, the more cracks show. Some scenarios are unbalanced. Some haunts break down if someone opens the wrong door at the wrong time.
And once you’ve seen a few endings, they start to blend. You might remember your first betrayal or horrible loss, but after that, things start mattering a whole lot less!
6
Scythe
Gorgeous Game, But It’s a Full-Time Job
Scythe is one of the most beautifully produced games I own (and I wanted to love it). The alternate-history mechs, the player mats, the smooth resource engine. It all clicked during my first session and felt like discovering a new hobby. Then I didn’t play it for three months and forgot everything.
If the phrase “engine-building tableau” makes your group go quiet, maybe pick something a little lighter. The right crowd makes or breaks whether a game sees the light of day again.
The rules aren’t hard, but they’re just dense enough that a casual group will never touch them again. My copy sits in perfect condition, still admired, still unplayed. It’s like owning a luxury car but never taking it out of the garage because the clutch makes you nervous.
5
Twilight Imperium
The Greatest Game You’ll Never Have Time For
Twilight Imperium is a space opera in a box, and that box is the size of a coffee table. The factions are deep, and the game somehow makes taxes fun. I genuinely loved my one full playthrough (all eight hours of it).
But getting six friends to commit to a full day, read the rulebook, and not bail halfway through? That was a one-time miracle. It now lives in my closet like a trophy of ambition, reminding me that some games are just too big to fail and too big to play.
4
Gloomhaven
You Played The First Five Scenarios. Admit It.
Gloomhaven is brilliant. It’s tactical combat, branching storylines, and upgradeable cards that hooked many players instantly. Some even label all the storage trays like a responsible adult. But somewhere between “unlock this new class” and “track 20 modifiers,” it’s easy to lose steam.
A lot of one-and-done games are mentally exhausting. Not because they’re bad, but because they ask you to solve puzzles and manage six mini economies on your first try. Some games just demand more than your weekend brain can give.
We said we’d come back. We didn’t, and now it is a $150 box of guilt sitting under the coffee table, judging me. I know Gloomhaven is good. I also know I’ll probably never play it again without a campaign babysitter.
3
T.I.M.E Stories
A Time-Travel Puzzle With Zero Replay Value
T.I.M.E Stories is the kind of game that leaves you thinking, “Wow, that was clever.” Then you realize you’ll never play it again unless you buy more scenarios. I loved the first one: whiteboard scribbles, tense debates, and just the right amount of “oh no, we messed up.”
But when it ended, so did my motivation. I didn’t want to replay the same story, and the idea of buying five expansions for more one-and-done puzzles felt exhausting. Great game, amazing concept, zero longevity.
2
Root
Adorable Animals, Aggressively Complicated Rules
Root is what happens when woodland creatures declare war, and everyone needs their separate rulebook to keep up. I was sold on the art style and asymmetric factions, until I realized teaching the game takes longer than playing it.
I adored my first game once everything clicked. But unless you’re playing weekly, no one remembers how to be the Vagabond. Or the Woodland Alliance. Or anyone. Every time I suggest playing it again, I see the fear in my friends’ eyes. And honestly? I don’t blame them.
1
Pandemic Legacy (Season 1)
You Can Only Save The World Once
Pandemic Legacy is an experience full stop. My group played it obsessively for a few months, unlocking new content and genuinely panicking over diseases. It felt like an HBO miniseries in board game form.
But here’s the catch: once it’s over, it’s over. You can’t reset it. You can’t play it again. It becomes a memento of your past teamwork and maybe a couple of bad decisions. I don’t regret a single moment, but I also don’t need another permanently altered game box on my shelf (I’ve since trashed it for this reason). One beautiful, chaotic ride was enough.
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