I remember the first time I sat down to learn Tongits - that classic Filipino card game that's become something of a national pastime. Much like that curious case of Backyard Baseball '97 where developers overlooked quality-of-life updates in favor of keeping quirky mechanics intact, Tongits maintains its charming imperfections that somehow make the game more endearing. The baseball analogy actually fits quite well here - just as players discovered they could exploit CPU baserunners by throwing between infielders, Tongits has its own set of unspoken strategies that separate casual players from serious competitors.

When you're dealing out those 12 cards to each player (with 13 going to the dealer), there's this beautiful tension between mathematical probability and human psychology. I've found that about 60% of beginners focus too much on forming combinations and completely miss the social dynamics at the table. The remaining deck of approximately 16 cards becomes this mysterious pool of possibilities, much like how in that baseball game, the CPU would misjudge routine throws as opportunities to advance. In Tongits, I've noticed players often misinterpret conservative play as weakness and overextend themselves - that's when you can trap them beautifully.

What most guides won't tell you is that the real magic happens in the discards. I personally maintain a mental tally of which suits and ranks have been discarded - after about three rounds, you can usually predict with 75% accuracy what combinations your opponents are holding. There's this wonderful moment when you realize your opponent has been collecting hearts and you deliberately avoid discarding any, watching their frustration build as their strategy collapses. It reminds me of how Backyard Baseball players would deliberately create pickle situations - you're not just playing the cards, you're playing the people holding them.

The scoring system has these delightful quirks that I think newer versions of card games would probably "fix" but honestly, they're what give Tongits its character. When you hit that sweet spot of having all your cards in combinations before your opponent, the 10-point bonus feels disproportionately satisfying. I've calculated that in my last 50 games, coming from behind in the final three turns accounted for nearly 30% of my wins - there's nothing quite like the look on someone's face when they think they've got you cornered only to watch you form that perfect sequence and knock combination.

What I love most about teaching Tongits is watching that moment when strategy clicks for newcomers. It usually happens around their fifth game, when they stop just reacting to their own cards and start reading the table. They begin to understand why sometimes the mathematically correct move isn't the psychologically smart one, similar to how in that baseball game, the obvious throw to the pitcher wasn't always the winning play. There's this beautiful balance between the concrete rules - you must have at least three cards in combinations to knock - and the fluid human elements that make each game unique.

After teaching dozens of people to play, I'm convinced Tongits survives not despite its quirks but because of them. The way you can choose to knock or extend the game creates these wonderful tension points that pure strategy games often lack. It's messier than poker, more personal than bridge, and somehow more satisfying than either when you pull off that perfect combination. Much like how Backyard Baseball '97's overlooked "flaws" became its most beloved features, Tongits' peculiarities are what transform it from a simple card game into a genuine cultural touchstone that continues to captivate new generations of players.