It was the summer of 1909. I was on the south coast of Spain. Peace was within reach, but a vote to end the war failed. The English and I had worked together for years, but now time was ticking. I desperately wanted peace. "Will you support my army in Spain this fall?" I asked. "Nah. That ain't happenin'," the Englishman replied. He intended to betray me. He walked away, leaving me standing in the hallway, mouth agape.

For the past eight hours I had been in a basement in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, playing Diplomacy with six other men. Brian Ecton, a high school math teacher from Maryland, offered an alliance. I had no reason not to agree. Other players dragged me aside, warning Brian would betray me. I dismissed them all. But here I stood, on the verge of elimination, and the other players were furious.

"Don't you realize some of us traveled a very long distance to win this tournament?" a player from France said. "Because you won't stab this guy, you're going to die." A Scottish player asked, "Am I losing three days' wages to be screwed by you?" I felt stupid, stressed, humiliated. I hated Brian, the other players hated me, and I hated myself most of all.

Diplomacy is "the game that ruins friendships." It requires seven players and seven or eight hours. Since its invention in 1954 by Allan B. Calhamer, it has sold over 300,000 copies and was inducted into Games Magazine's hall of fame.