You know what’s embarrassing? I bought 5 Second Rule probably eight years ago thinking it’d be this fun, easy party game. Wrong. First time we played it at one of our regular game nights, I completely froze when Linda asked me to name three breakfast foods. Breakfast foods! I eat breakfast every single day, but apparently under pressure my brain just decided that food doesn’t exist.
The thing about 5 Second Rule that nobody warns you about is how it makes you feel like an idiot. You’re sitting there, that little timer making its annoying marble sound, and suddenly you can’t remember a single thing that fits the category. I once got “things with wheels” and spent three seconds trying to remember what a car was called. A car! It’s not like I don’t drive one every day to work.
But here’s what happened that got me hooked despite the humiliation. We were playing at my friend Dave’s house, and his teenage son just demolished all of us adults. Kid was rattling off answers like he had them memorized. That got me thinking – maybe there’s actually some strategy to this stupid game beyond just hoping your brain doesn’t shut down.
So I started paying attention to how people played, especially the ones who consistently won. Turns out the good players weren’t necessarily smarter or more knowledgeable. They had patterns. They’d always start with the same types of answers for similar categories. It wasn’t about being creative or impressive – it was about being fast and reliable.
That’s when I developed what I call my “boring answer system.” For every category that might come up, I needed three completely predictable answers that I could spit out without thinking. Animals? Dog, cat, bird. Every time. Countries? USA, Mexico, Canada. Foods? Pizza, hamburger, chicken. These aren’t interesting answers, but interesting wasn’t getting me points.
The breakthrough came about three years into playing regularly. We were at this little game tournament at Samurai Comics here in Phoenix – nothing serious, just local folks competing for store credit. I’d been practicing my default lists, felt pretty confident. Then they hit me with “things that are bumpy” and my prepared lists were useless. I sat there frantically trying to make my animal list work somehow before finally stammering “road, pickle, golf ball.” Won that round, barely.
That’s when I realized the default list thing only gets you so far. You need flexibility within the system. Instead of just memorizing specific lists, I started thinking in broader categories that could overlap. Kitchen stuff, outdoor stuff, things you wear, parts of your body, emotions. Each one becomes like a mental file folder I can grab from quickly.
Say you get “things that are yellow” – that doesn’t match any of my standard categories exactly, but I can pull from food (banana, corn), objects (school bus, pencil), or nature (sun, flower). Having these broader mental folders means I’m never starting completely from scratch, even with weird categories.
The physical part of playing matters way more than I expected. I used to death-grip that little timer button, which actually made me slower somehow. Now I barely touch it, just resting my thumb there ready to press. Same thing with how I sit – hunched over the table holding my breath like it’s life or death just makes everything harder.
Breathing is actually huge. Most people, myself included for years, hold their breath when the timer starts. Your brain needs oxygen to work fast. Now I take one deep breath right when they read the category, then give my answers on the exhale. Sounds ridiculous but it genuinely helps.
Here’s something I learned playing with different groups over the years. With family or casual friends, obvious answers work fine. Nobody’s trying to be difficult. But when you’re playing with competitive board gamers, they’ll challenge borderline answers just to mess with you. Got to factor that in.
I’ve found there’s a sweet spot for answer specificity in competitive games. You want to be specific enough that nobody questions it, but not so specific that you waste time thinking. For “things in a garage,” say “toolbox” instead of “tools” but don’t go crazy with “metric socket wrench set.” One level more specific than obvious usually works.
The practice part is where I probably went overboard. Started doing mental category games everywhere – waiting in line at the insurance office, walking around the neighborhood, during commercial breaks watching TV. Five things that are cold. Five things made of metal. Five things you’d find at a birthday party. Linda thinks I’m nuts, but it builds those mental pathways you need when the pressure’s on.
That timer creates artificial stress that genuinely changes how your brain works. Under time pressure, you lose access to memory networks that work fine normally. That’s why easy stuff becomes impossible. The solution is making your go-to answers so automatic they bypass the parts of your brain that freeze up.
One trick I picked up watching really good players is externalizing your thinking. Instead of trying to silently come up with three perfect answers, start saying related words out loud while you think. For “things that fly,” you might say “wings… sky… birds…” and those trigger words help you find actual answers. Sounds weird but it works.
Don’t try to think of all three answers before saying any of them either. I wasted years doing that. Now I just blurt out my first solid answer and let that help trigger the second and third. Often saying something out loud helps your brain find the next thing.
My biggest advice is to start with categories that feel natural to you and build confidence before tackling harder ones. Everyone’s brain works differently with different topics. Mine happens to click with household objects, animals, and food items. Yours might be movies, sports, or whatever. Figure out your strengths and use those to build momentum in games.
The weird thing is, after all these years and probably three hundred games of 5 Second Rule, I still lose regularly. Amy destroys me every time she visits, especially on pop culture categories. But that panic response I used to get is mostly gone now. When someone suggests breaking out 5 Second Rule, I actually get excited instead of dreading it. Plus I’ve gotten pretty good at “things you’d find in an insurance office” thanks to thirty years of practice there.
These days my biggest problem is that I’ve gotten so used to my default answers that sometimes I say them even when they don’t quite fit. Last week I said “dog, cat, bird” for “things that are red” before my brain caught up. But hey, cardinals are birds and they’re red, so it worked out anyway.
Lawrence’s Phoenix home is half game shelf, half museum. He’s played hundreds of titles and still gets excited about every new box. His posts focus on accessibility, replayability, and helping regular folks find the right game for their table.
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