Developing: Spoon Game Exposé

Ella Russell, Contributing Writer

For the past few months, over 200 CRLS seniors have undergone the trials and tribulations of the Spoon Game. Each player paid a five dollar entrance fee, amassing a combined total of more than $1,000. Half of this money will go to the winner, and half will go to a charity of their choice.

Students signed up in February. After paying the entrance fee, they were added to a Facebook page explaining the rules of the game. The ground rules are simple: Players must carry a white plastic spoon in their hand. Everyone is assigned a target to tag out, which they can do if the target has no spoon in their hands. In the interest of safety and the maintenance of a productive learning environment, there are several safe zones established, including classrooms, bathrooms, workplaces, and school clubs.

The game is further complicated by temporary rules known as wildcards, such as entire floors of CRLS turning unsafe even for spoon carriers, players holding their spoons like lightsabers for May the 4th, and players holding hands with an obliging underclassman.

Four seniors are running the game: Cooper Kelley, Juliette Low Fleury, Ajani Acloque, and Atticus Olivet. They post the wildcards and the “in memoriam” lists comprising people who “died” that day complete with a Hunger Games-esque cannon. To become a Spoon Game admin, they contacted the seniors who ran the game last year. Initially there were five admins, but on March 2nd, the first day of the game, one admin leaked information about targets to their friends. They were kicked out and everyone was given different targets.

“It’s pretty funny to be able to put something on Facebook and the next day have 270-something teenagers walk around … doing some crazy stuff,” says Kelley. However, he finds that “there are other times when it’s just a lot of work for little reward.” According to Olivet, this is in part because Kelley took on the most work. “Especially during some of the really intense weeks, he would get all of the messages and be on his phone the entire time.”

Over the course of the Spoon Game, there have been frequent disputes over wildcards and the validity of kills. For example, when the second floor was made unsafe, Olivet and Acloque remember many tagged out players messaging them, searching for loopholes to get back in the game, asking questions like, “Is the first tile considered the second floor? Or the second tile?” And, “If half of my foot is outside of the staircase and the other half is in, am I on the second floor?” This year’s Spoon Game has “been so intense,” says Olivet, “that [people], when they get out of the game, are sometimes happier.”

This sentiment has increasingly mirrored that of the players as the game stretches on and more people get out. Senior Clara Benoit-Latour was tagged out early on in the game, and she enjoyed her experience, especially the excitement of realizing “that even your friends can backstab you.” Senior Ottavia Rigazzi, one of the final fifteen players to get out, agrees that the beginning was fun when “a lot of people were still in and the wildcards were exciting and original.” However, “the end got a bit boring,” and she “asked [herself] a lot of times if it was worth it to keep playing.”

Nevertheless, some players go to impressive lengths to eliminate other players. If a player has a good relationship with a teacher, the teacher will sometimes give away their target’s schedule. In past years, this type of information has led to players hiding in the bushes outside their target’s house. This year, senior Paley Matteus offered players ten dollars to commit “spoonicide.” The player would message an admin saying they wished to leave the game and dedicate their kill to Matteus. Two players committed “spoonicide,” but Matteus was soon tagged out himself before any more could take him up on his offer.

In addition to the main prize money, a $20 prize goes to the player who has the most kills by the end of the game. The person who plays the “craziest” game, showing creativity and guts in tagging their targets, wins the Brenna Lipset Memorial Prize: $30 and a burrito from Felipe’s.

“I hope it ends smoothly,” remarks Olivet. “I think it will.”

This piece also appears in our May print edition.